Red as Fire

"Fire, crimson, brimstone and blood - your death will be a fiery affair." The oracle was always right. He had paid the service and sacrifice, as well as offered a hefty sum of gold. A crate full which the elder eunuchs carried away with such mouth licking greed it disgusted even him, King Kronsus, who was famed for allegedly having entombed a rival in gold. The statue in the courtroom where he did his business was commissioned by his father almost half a century prior and was supposed to be in the likeness of his secret lover and long-time right hand, Kornelius the Wise. Kronsus had it plated with gold only a few years ago but somehow the rumour spread after a courtier had gone missing. Kronsus didn't mind that people thought that of him, it kept vassals in line and enemies distant. There hadn't been a rumour of conspiracy for two years already, and that's the way he liked it. The courtier would later be found in a ditch three days away from the Kingdom, killed by a kick to the head by his own horse which then wandered a way, but no one recognized him and word never reached the Kingdom.

"What does that mean?" he asked the heavily drugged oracle that was teetering on the brink of consciousness as she huffed in the vapors. Kronsus coughed as the young virgin twirled around the centre of the stage that was setup for her, pure marble cooled her heated body as she twirled around. She began to play with herself and moan as the eunuchs lusted after her from nearby, staring at her and wishing they could touch themselves the way they once were able to.

Kronsus was confused but it was clear as day. He would die by fire, there was no way around it. He was whisked away by an apprentice as the eunuchs began to approach the oracle slowly, their wrinkly hands soon to violate the child that was torn from life in the promise that her family would rise in status. It was a blessing in disguise, for she would never discover that her father died by his mistress' hand only four months after her passage into oraclehood nor that her mother died in childbirth - as did the child - a year later. She was shrouded in mystery and kept ignorant and would until she would be sacrificed as well.

"It is clear, good liege of the Kingdom of the Seknots, that you now know how you will perish. You can now take action! You can avoid the death that is prophesied!" The eunuch was young but already missing teeth and looking twenty years his senior. Kronsus recoiled from his disgusting visage. "Ah, yes. Fire will kill me then?" The monk nodded and his habit bounced eagerly with the head. "Could there be any doubt, King Kronsus?" His red, beady eyes started into Kronsus "It is clear as the fires that light this temple, inside and out. You will die a fiery and gruesome death! Why if I were you, I would forbid any fires near me. Keep all hearths cold. Perhaps you could just forsake your Kingdom, go off to a warm isle? There are plenty of-" "What? Abdicate? Are you mad, you lecher?" Kronsus interrupted him and the monk smiled back at him. "Fare ye well, King Kronsus. Fare ye well." He cackled as he continued on into some path of the temple. Kronsus stumbled towards the exit where his bodyguards awaited him, as well as his brother.

"And? What do these horny bastards say?" Karlo didn't believe in any of this foolishness and downright hated it when their father had almost sent off their youngest sister off to the priesthood. He knew what goes on in the temples and vowed that if he ever were to become King, he would try to get rid of their foul practices.

"Oh... Oh it was... It was a sight." Kronsus recalled the smooth body of the girl who could be no older than four and ten years.

Karlo frowned "Don't be drooling like them." He tilted his head towards one of them that was dozing on a pillar in the sun outside of the temple. "The prophecy man, what did they say?"

"Fire, Karlo." Kronsus pulled Karlo closer "Fire... Fire and brimson? Crimson? Brimstone?" Kronsus tried to remember. The druggy air that permeated the temple still clouded his mind.

"Yes, all hallmarks of a fireplace. What of it?"

Kronsus pulled Karlo closer "Fire... will kill me, Karlo..." but Karlo could only scoff. "You know what I think of them brother. Did the priests approve of the spectacle? That's all that matter. Where is the priest anyway?"

Kronsus shrugged "He went in and I have not seen him since the monks took me to the oracle."

Karlo's frown got worse, his brow furrowed even more and he clicked his tongue. "That pig better not..." and Kronsus shrugged, still bothered by the prophecy. He looked out to the area around them, ragged cliff side with steep mountains far off. It had taken them four days to get here, it would still bother him for four more days, for sure.

***

So it came upon the Kingdom of Seknots that the palace was completely dark at night. Kronsus giving up his Kingdom? There hadn't been an abdication for over four hundred years and that was the King who had abdicated due to poor health at the ripe old age of 59. Kronsus made sure that no candles were lit and no fireplaces either. Soon most of the palace would wander out come winter, to surrounding housing to stay warm. Kronsus would stay in his room, covered in pelts and had at least two maids sleep with him besides his wife so that he could stay warm.

Of that arrangement four bastard children were born.

Soon the efficiency of the Kingdom sank and complaints came in during the summer months which were the only times the King would hold court due to the heat and light.

Vassals that would come any other time of the year would only be seen at noon, and often times the cold was so bad it would make some weaker visitors sick. A Duke from the lower regions and one Count from a barony nearby who was visiting his cousin had died from pneumonia induced by the cold floors. This is what the priests said of course, thus stirring up more controversy.

It came thusly that in the end the vassals staged an uprising. Naturally they planned it so that it would happen in winter, when the King was so incapable and slothful that nothing would be done against them. Who other than his own brother would lead those same vassals into the fray, promising advancements and improvements and everything the vassals wanted to hear. All he wanted was power to begin to curb power on the priests and temples.

It was on a cold wintery day when the armies built their tents, setup the trebuchets and catapults, and began to dig trenches. Kronsus went to a window, covered in pelts, and looked out. "What is that going on out there, outside of the walls?" He asked a servant nearby, their breath showing as they spoke "No idea, your highness. Would you like me to ask the marshall?" Kronsus nodded and stared out. The trebuchet were facing towards the palace and the walls. The flags were facing towards him. On a hill he could see horsemen and riders, with noblemen clearly visible armor of prestigious quality. It was a revolt.

He shook his head, it could not be. Sure, he was not being very active during the winter months, but he had to avoid fire. He could not die by fire. There had to be another way. He hurried into the hallway but there were no servants. He rushed down towards the courtroom and his throne. It still stood where it always did, but the hall was empty save for his brother, Karlo, and his two guards. Their fierce eyes pierced his gaze accompanied by mischievous smiles.

"Karlo! What is going on? Have you seen!? There is an army outside the palace. Oh, Karlo. You have to help me." Karlo turned on his heel and smiled at his brother. "The crown, Kronsus." He held out his hand and Kronsus fell to his knees. "Brother!" He begged "What are you doing? You cannot do this to me!"

Karlo shouted "It's over! You are ruining this Kingdom our ancestors fought so hard to keep. Give it up, abdicate and I will send you to the isles of Meri!"

Kronsus took the crown from his head and stared at Karlo. Karlo smiled and though there was a smile, Kronsus saw there was nothing that would change his mind. "No." Kronsus uttered and held on tightly to the crown. Karlo sighed and knew it would not be the first, nor last time, that blood had been spilled in front of that same throne.

He unsheathed his dagger and knelt down to Kronsus, grabbing his head with his right hand. "Neither fire, nor brimstone. Only crimson." He rammed the knife into his brothers head through the neck as blood spilled out of his throat, Kronsus' fear-filled eyes looked upwards, then met Karlo's. Karlo's eyes seemed to be full of care, as though he was looking into the eyes of a sheep at slaughter, or one of the many men he had killed fighting for his brother. The light of those eyes soon went out and the blood spilled onto the floor as he pulled out his dagger.

He defeated fate.