The courtyard of the castle could be heard all the way from the tower of the Court Sorcerer. People from all over Syllina had gathered to witness the knighting of Vandenberg. Some came to see the man himself, to see the face of the one who gave so much to the kingdom. Others came to see his creation, the rumored “electric carriage” to grant the King quick and safe passage throughout the land. No matter the case, no one could contain their excitement.

It was a time to celebrate. Decorations were strewn across every building, every lamppost and every windowsill. The smell of delicacies intoxicated the air, as people set up their shops to sell treats from all corners of the kingdom, from the sickeningly sweet cakes of the northern coastal towns to the sizzling steaks of the southern mountains. People of all walks of life weaved their way through the crowd in hopes that they might get the best view of the ceremony.

From above the courtyard, the king looked down upon his people. He clutched the railing with an aging hand that once drew swords against his foes. But that was a time long past. Arthur Cullen knew they lived in better times. Times of peace. Times where people like Vandenberg were free to create and make their lives a little more comfortable. It brought joy to the man’s heart to see the people below so happy. They moved about from one place to the next, feasting their bellies and meeting new faces. He sometimes forgot what it felt like to simply enjoy a celebration.

“Good afternoon, My Lady,” greeted a voice from behind. Arthur turned to look over his shoulder just as Henrietta stepped onto the balcony. She returned the greeting to treasurer who welcomed her as Theodore followed behind her. The king stepped forward to meet his daughter.

“Henrietta,” He said to her with a small grin. He did not appear quite as well as he did in his painting. His teeth were a little more yellow, his face a little more pale. His hair was not quite so well kept and he didn’t stand quite so straight anymore. But no one could deny that his eyes were the same.

“Father,” She replied with a smile and a small bow. “I pray you’ve been well this morning.”

“Better now that you’re here,” He grinned, chuckling quietly to himself. “And not galavanting about the town. You’ll catch your death frolicking through the streets all day.”

“I do not frolick!” Henrietta laughed.

“Really?” Chimed Theodore, stepping forward to Henrietta’s side. “Then what word should His Majesty use to describe all of that skipping in the streets.”

“Hush! You know no such thing, locked away in that silly tower.” Henrietta laughed again, swatting Theodore’s arm. The king did not laugh, however.

“Mr. Gallagher,” Arthur spoke with a tone that did not quite match the small smile on his face. “I trust you’ve been keeping my daughter away from those books of yours. You are well aware of your responsibilities as Court Sorcerer.”

“I would never show Her Ladyship a single drop of ink, if I thought it would bring her harm,” He responded. “She simply dabbles in minor medicines from time to time. Harmless potions.”

Henrietta couldn’t help but feel a hint of frustration. She felt as though she had earned enough trust from her father to warrant his blessing to review the ancient tomes that lie in the tower. She was as far along in years as Theodore, and found him no wiser than she was. Years of studying economics and politics, strategies and religions, and yet the Old Ways were always just out of reach.

“Good,” said the king, reaching out an arm to place his hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder. He spoke in a low, hushed tone. “I took a chance on you. I saw talent and passion in your work under Mr. Devitt, rest his soul. I pray I did not misplace my trust in you.”

Theodore’s silver eye twitched at the mention of Matthias Devitt, causing him to quickly brush his hand over the area. It ran over the golden tattoo that curved its way around his left eye. Henrietta watched the curious reaction to her father’s words. She sometimes forgot that the tattoo was there. The shape of it always reminded her of fire. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember when he got the thing to begin with.

“Of course not, My King.” Theodore finally spoke up. Arthur gave a nod and released the young man’s shoulder. He seemed content with that answer.

Henrietta wanted to question the rather unusual exchange, but was quickly distracted by the roars of the crowd below. In the distance, drawing rapidly closer, was the mysterious electric carriage. Despite her disinterest with the man inside, Henrietta couldn’t help but marvel at the machine. Dark and sleek, it seemed to glide across the rails embedded in the road like a bullet. Some more daring citizens reached out to touch the machine as it barreled past them.

“A marvel,” muttered one man who stood at the edge of the balcony with a glass of wine in hand.

Arthur stepped forward to watched the invention approach. It seemed to gradually slow itself down as it approached the doors to the castle, where the luckiest of few managed to secure a place, through pushing and loud threats to those trying to sneak past them. Even Theodore couldn’t help but move closer to try and get a better view. The carriage groaned as it pulled to a stop, the crackling hum of electricity fading from the engine. Cheers broke out to welcome the innovator of their time. And yet, the man himself did not emerge.

The seconds crawled by and still nothing. Not a sound came from within. The cheers of moments before quickly turned to whispers and murmuring. The king took a step further to the edge of the balcony, looking down upon the steel black vehicle. A single soldier, clad in armor and a pistol at his hip approached, followed by one Clockwork Man, who stepped forward to the door. He grasped the handle swinging open the entrance and all went silent. Then, a scream broke out and the crowd descended into chaos.

Inside the carriage was the bloody skeleton of Vandenburg, flesh dangling from the bones and clothes ripped to shreds.