*page_break
[b]END OF CHAPTER 1[/b]
*page_break
*ending
[b]Chapter 2[/b]
*page_break
A squat man in scarlet armor walks forward and surveys you and your companions. Suddenly he shouts, "Bring forth the Subjugators!" Ten stocky men carrying large rubber mallets step out of the enemy ranks.
*line_break
You see nine of the men lumber towards Eltariel and Gwinn, mallets swinging in heavy arcs. You then watch as an overweight man approaches you with a hammer. [i]Crap...[/i] The blow swiftly knocks you out.
*page_break [i]Several days later[/i]
Your head is throbbing. Groaning, you try to rub your forehead. You cry out as something sharp bites into your wrist. Slowly opening your eyes, you look down and see your arms and legs are handcuffed to the legs of the bed you are on top of. "Hello?" you yell. No response. Looking around, you see that your captors have placed you in an extremely nice room. Paintings hang from the mahogany walls, giving a splash of color to your otherwise drab surroundings. Besides the bed, there is no other furniture in the room. 
*line_break 
Not knowing what to do, you simply lay there, recovering your strength.
*page_break At least it's comfortable...
A few hours later, you hear a key turning in the door. The door opens and Ciarda sweeps in, violet dress filling the room. 
*line_break
Smiling, she says, "Hello ${name}, how was your trip? Well, I suppose you wouldn't know, those were fairly heavy drugs I gave you. How do you feel now?"
*fake_choice
	#"I'm... fine."
		Ciarda's smile widens. "Ah, very good. I must confess I was a bit worried. Being so far from home must be very difficult."
	#"Where are Elatariel and Gwinn?"
		Ciarda's smile drops. "I asked how you are feeling. But if you must know, they live, though in slightly less hospitable conditions."
	#"I'll be better once I kill you, you..."
		Your throat suddenly constricts and you start choking. Ciarda's smile turns cold. "Ah ah ah, is that anyway to address your host? I would think not." The vice on your throat is finally released. 
*line_break
Your eyes grow wide as you realize you are no longer in Fis. "Ciarda... where are we?" Ciarda replies, "Ah, ${name}... you're in for quite a treat. Welcome to the Capital!"
*page_break
Ciarda laughs at your shock. "You will join me for lunch, yes? How many of your village friends can say they've dined with the Nightbrother?" 
*line_break
It all comes rushing back to you. 
*line_break
Your father. Your friends. Lord Valor.
*line_break
Virginia.
*page_break
A tear threatens to break free from your eye. Seeing your sadness, Ciarda again grows cold, "Crying? Really? Not over that girl, right? Here, you can have whatever you want. We have the finest consorts here, of all genders and races. Merely ask, and it is yours."
*line_break
Confused, you ask, "Why are you being kind to me? Am I not the one destined to kill you?"
*line_break
Ciarda raises her eyebrows and gives you a condescending look. "You? Kill me? You saw what I did to your friend. You think you can kill me? And besides, do you honestly believe in prophecies and the like? Complete garbage if you ask me. I'll explain more at lunch. I'll send new clothes for you, then I'll have a guard bring you to the dining hall." With a twirl of her finger, your restraints dissipate into mist. Then she stalks out of the room.
*line_break
Rubbing your wrists, you wait for the guard to show up. Finally, he does.
*if (sex = "male")
	A tall, gaunt man walks in with a black pair of pants and shirt draped over one arm. Speaking with a slight lisp, he says, "I have been ordered to give this to you. You will change. Now. Then we will go the dining room.
	*line_break
	You wait for him to turn around, but he does not. "Excuse me, a little privacy, please?" The man does not avvert his gaze. Sighing, you change as quickly as you can.
	*goto admire
*if (sex = "female")
	A tall, gaunt man walks in with a scarlet dress draped over one arm. Speaking with a slight lisp, he says, "I have been ordered to give this to you. You will change. Now. Then we will go the dining room.
	*line_break
	You wait for him to turn around, but he does not. "Excuse me, a little privacy, please?" The man does not avvert his gaze. Sighing, you change as quickly as you can.
	*goto admire
*if (sex = "Non-binary")
	A tall, gaunt man walks in with several pairs of clothes draped over one arm. Speaking with a slight lisp, he says, "I have been ordered to give this to you. You will change. Now. Then we will go the dining room.
	*fake_choice
		#Shirt and trousers
		#Dress
	You wait for him to turn around, but he does not. "Excuse me, a little privacy, please?" The man does not avert his gaze. Sighing, you change as quickly as you can.
	*goto admire
*label admire
*if (sex = "female")
	You stare in amazement at the beautiful dress you wear. Midnight black with red slashes, your dress seems to flow and shift with your every subtle move. The red creases bend and twist, giving your attire a mesmerizing look. This is far different than the drab brown and grey smocks you use to wear. Shaking free of your stupor, you allow the man to escort you from the room.
*if (sex = "male")
	You look down at yourself and awe fills you. Perfectly tailored black trousers and a matching shirt accentuate your body. A single crimson rose is pinned to your breast pocket. Even afer bathing in waterfalls, never before have you felt so... clean. Powerful. You stand a little taller as pride fills your bosom. Head held high, you strut from the room, the thin man racing to keep up.
*if (sex = "Non-binary")
	You look down at yourself, filled with wonder. Your clothes are a contrasting crimson and midnight black, perfectly tailored to your body. You've never even seen an outfit this nice, not to mention actually wearing one. Happiness buoying you, you follow the thin man from the room.

*page_break
*label lunch
After several minutes of walking, you arrive at a large pair of oaken doors. The thin man raises his hand to knock, but the doors silently open before he has the chance to. Within lays a scene of wealth and gluttony.

A long, circular table surrounds the room, easily large enough to seat several hundred people. In the center of the room, seven golden chandeliers sparkle with diamonds, casting glimmers of light in every which way. Even with all the decadence, that is not what uneases you. Rather, the endless pairs of eyes watching you are unnerving. Hundreds of people of every size, shape, and color sit at the table; they all are watching you. 


Your eyes travel the length of the table, locking eyes with more than one person. More than one face is twisted in hate, but others look almost friendly. Your eyes find the northern most seat, occupied by none other than Ciarda. Her smile does not watch the cold stare she gives you. With an almost imperceptible tilt of her head, she gestures to the seat next to her, which currently has another man in it. Swallowing your fear, you begin the trek to the opposite side of the table. Not a single sound is made.


Arriving at the seat next to Ciarda, she finally breaks the silence. "Necros, my love, please move. Our esteemed guest needs a place to sit." Necros' eyebrows flare as he shoots daggers at you. Bringing his mannerisms under control, he turns to Ciarda and states, "Ciarda, I will not give up my seat to a peasant." Face betraying no emotion, she mutters, "Pity." With a shriek, Necros is lifted into the air and thrown into the center of the ballroom. Standing, Ciarda magically amplifies her voice as she says, "Lords and ladies. Beside me stands ${name}, the Phoenix." At this, most of the room gasps. "${He} is mine, a slave to my will. Anyone, and I do mean anyone... will suffer. Let Necros, my lover, be an example unto all of you."


Directing her attention back to Necros, you watch as he is spread eagle on the ground. Several of the chandeliers' diamonds break free and coalesce into two needle-like spears. Positioning themselves over Necros' face, they begin to slowly lower. You see Ciarda glance at you, gauging your reaction.
*choice
	#Let him die. He was no friend anyway.
		This is a cruel way to die, but is one less evil lord really a bad thing? You watch as the diamonds continue to descend, Necros screaming for mercy. Moments before they would pierce his eyes, the needles stop. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Necros stops his wailing, turning into a blubbery, apologetic mess.


		You hear Ciarda say, "Pathetic." Then the needles rapidly accelerate and pierce through Necros' eye sockets and plunge into the marble ground. A small noise leaps from his mouth before he is silenced. Blood begins pooling around the base of his head.
		*goto discussion
		
	#This is madness... I have to stop this.
		You have to do something, but what?
		*choice
			#Try to distract Ciarda
				Trusting your instinct, you reach out and grab a...
				*choice
					#Muffin
						Which you throw...
						*choice
							#at Ciarda
								The muffin bops her on the shoulder, leaving a blue stain from an errant blueberry. Ciarda looks at you, raising her eyebrows in a condescending manner. Then she rolls her eyes and the diamonds plunge into Necros' eye sockets, extinguishing his cries. Laughing, she sits down.
								*goto discussion
							#Actually you don't want to throw it. You eat it.
								*achieve muffin
								Munching on your muffin, you watch as the diamonds continue to descend, Necros screaming for mercy. Moments before they would pierce his eyes, the needles stop. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Necros stops his wailing, turning into a blubbery, apologetic mess.


								You hear Ciarda say, "Pathetic." Then the needles rapidly accelerate and pierce through Necros' eye sockets and plunge into the marble ground. A small noise leaps from his mouth before he is silenced. Blood begins pooling around the base of his head. Shaking her head, Ciarda sits.
								*goto discussion
					#Knife
						You raise the knife and launch it at Ciarda. Time seems to stop as the knife flips end over end, drawing ever closer to Ciarda. You wait for her to stop your feeble attempt, but nothing happens. Shifting back to real-time, you gasp in shock as you watch the knife sink into Ciarda's neck with a sickening thud. Her hand shoots to her neck, and then she sways and collapses to the ground in a heap. The diamonds drop into Necros' eyes, but no one notices. The room grows icy cold. You kneel and place a finger to her neck. No pulse. Then you feel a tremor run through Ciarda's body. It grows until she is she shaking. Then her eyes open.
						*page_break
						Scrambling back in terror, you watch as Ciarda maniacally laughs, standing. "Ghrub hukk..." Frowning, she pulls the knife from her neck and drops it on her plate. Swallowing, she begins again, "Wow. That... took some balls. You know what, ${name}, I'm proud of you. Good effort. Terrible plan, but good effort. Sit." Then she sits down as if nothing happened.
						*goto discussion
					#Glass of wine
						The glass of wine stops in midair, spilled wine frozen in stasis. Reaching out a single finger, Ciarda swishes her finger through the immobile wine before licking her finger. "Hmmm... not the best, but certainly not bad. I need to remember to invest in a better winery..." Then she flicks her finger at Necros and the wine flows through the air, settling as a thin film on Necros' face. Unable to breathe, Necros struggles as his chest heaves, begging for air. There is no reprieve. Moments later he is dead. Ciarda sits.
						*goto discussion
		

*label discussion
*page_break
Sighing, Ciarda looks at you standing and gestures to the chair. "Sit." You take your seat, eyes glued to Necros' limp body. Ciarda snaps her fingers and you look at her as she says, "${name}. You have seen only a mere fraction of my power twice now. You know as well as I do that regardless of the mark you bear, you simply can't kill me. Although, your magic at Fis was quite amusing. I've contemplated what to do with you for some time now, but I'm interested in hearing your thoughts. What would you do if you were in my position? The ${boy} destined to kill you at your mercy."
*fake_choice
	#"I... I would kill them..."
		Ciarda's lips curl into a smile, "Yes, very wise. Perhaps you would have made a fine ruler. Perhaps, there is still opportunity for you to advance."
	#"I would let them go."
		Ciarda's eyebrows rise, "Really. You would just let them go. Please excuse me, but I don't believe you. Or maybe you're just stupid. Either way, no, I'm not letting you go. However, you will live."
	#"I would train them and make them serve me."
		Ciarda smiles, "Ah, interesting. And why would you do that?"
		*fake_choice
			#"They could be a tool."
				Ciarda smirks, "Hmm. You might not be useless after all. You are completely right. I'm going to let you live."
			#"I'm opposed to senseless killing."
				Ciarda laughs at this, "You're joking, yes? Otherwise, well... you have no future. Regardless, this is also what I've chosen to do with you."
Flustered, you ask, "What? You're... letting me live? But why?"


"Try and keep up kid. You're useful, and in more ways than one. Not that I'll tell you those things, but you still hold value. Here's the deal: I'm going to give you to my nephew, King Cortar. He's only a tad older than you, only eighteen, but you'll find no better tutor in the ways of war. Not to mention I'll even teach you to hone your magic. In return, you swear fealty to me and help me stamp out my enemies. If you're loyal, who knows, maybe I'll allow you to rule your own kingdom one day. But mark my words: betray me?" At this Ciarda gestures towards Necros' deceased form. "You will know pain so excruciating you can't begin to imagine it. You can say no though. Do you accept my proposition?"
*choice
	#"I understand. Thank you for this opportunity."
		Ciarda's eyes light up, "Wonderful! I knew you could see reason. Now let me introduce you to King Cortar." She points behind you and you turn. Seated in the chair next to you is a striking young man.
		*line_break

		As he stands, you stare for a moment as you take in the sight of him. Taller than most men, King Cortar has an easy smile that complements the vibrant blonde hair that reaches to his shoulders. A pair of emerald green eyes catches your attention, seemingly pulling you in. Adorned in a simple set of plate armor, King Cortar makes for an impressive figure. 


		His voice rolls of his tongue like warm honey, "So you are the young ${name}. I'm simply delighted to meet you. The Nightbrother tells me I am to have the honor of training you. Tell me, are you you up for the challenge?"
		*goto Cortar
	#"I will never serve you."
		Ciarda's eyes glow with fury. "You... you deny me?! I give you a chance for life, but you reject my proposal? Well. You are the 'Phoenix', no? Let us see if from the inferno you rise again." 
		

		You recoil, trying to run. An unshakeable force suddenly grabs you, holding you in place. Ciarda places a hand on your shoulder, and sadly she whispers in your ear, "You could have been so much more. Endless power was only a few years away... what a shame." Retracting her hand, you feel yourself being levitated towards the center of the room. You try to cry out for help, but your mouth is clamped shut. Then you hear someone shout behind you.
		*page_break
		"Stop!" You can't see who it is, but you are grateful for them.
		

		"Please, Nightbrother, let the child go." A thick silence falls upon the room. Then a piercing scream shatters the quiet. You hear a heavy whack as something hits the floor behind you. Looking down, you see an older man slide below your feet. Ciarda walks into your field of view and kicks the man. "Idiot!" she yells, "If death was your goal, you shall have it!" You feel your body jerked down onto the man. Then you feel the heat.
		*page_break
		It begins as a comforting warmth that runs through your body. Then the heat increases. You feel itchy, your clothes are scratchy. Abruptly, a sharp pain courses through your feet. Looking down in horror, you see your feet are on fire. The flames hungrily engulf your body. All you can feel is pain. Stars appear in your vision. Your final view is of Ciarda standing over you. "That is hellfire, ${name}. No revives this time." Then the blackness overcomes you.
		*page_break Pain.
		...
		*page_break
		[i]${name}? Why are you here in the spirit realm? Wait. You're not dead, are you? No... no... The world is lost... [/i]
		*achieve flames
		*ending 
*label Cortar
*fake_choice
	#"For you... I can be good at anything."
		King Cortar raises a single eyebrow, but you see a hint of a smile on his face. "Is that so? I hope that is not an empty platitude; I expect great things."
	#"I... am not sure."
		King Cortar nods his head in approval. "Not necessarily the most inspiring answer, but I do value honesty."
	#"I'm terrified."
		King Cortar's eyes narrow. "Terrified? A small dose of fear is healthy, but you will not be 'terrified'. That is unacceptable."

You lower your head in acknowledgement. "I hope I will be able to please you, my King."

King Cortar's eyes flash. "One more thing: no more of this formality. I appreciate the effort, but if we are to coexist for the next few years, I will not stand for these stuffy mannerisms. Besides, I am a mere two years your senior."

Ciarda laughs at this. "Yes, you're only eighteen. But how many other people your age have already accomplished what you have? Murdering your traitorous parents and siblings, pledging fealty to me, and spearheading the campaign into the Northern Realms. 'King' is a title you most certainly deserve."

Cortar nods in thanks. "You are too kind, Nightbrother. I will have ${name} address me as King if that is your wish."

"Bah, I care little what you want ${him} to call you." Ciarda then turns to the assembled lords and ladies. "Lunch has been cancelled. Go home."

Many of the guests mumble under their breath as they file out, but they are careful to hide their response.

Ciarda then addresses you and Cortar once more. "If you want to leave without fanfare, here is your opportunity. King Cortar... do not fail me." She then looks pointedly at Necros' body.

Showing no visible response, Cortar calmy replies, "You will not be disappointed." Grabbing your arm, he wheels you out of the room.
*page_break
Cortar is silent as you walk through the hallways. 

When you finally arrive in the courtyard, you see a plain carriage awaiting you. Several guards posted around the carriage snap to attention at the sight of Cortar. He waves them off and gestures for you to enter the carriage. 

After you and Cortar climb in, his piercing emerald eyes searching your face. "${name}. I need you to understand something. This path you are on now... it will not be easy. Ciarda will undoubtedly try to have you killed. However, until that time arrives I have been charged with training and providing for you. I will hire the best teachers for you, give you real world experience, and I'll even fund anything you desire. But, there is one thing that will cause all that to disappear:lies."

He stares silently at you for a moment. "I'm going to ask you a question. You will answer truthfully... or I will kill you here.Do you understand?"

You gulp and nod your head.

"Good. I heard of your usage of magic at The Battle of Fis. Tell me exactly what happened and what you can do."

*if hellstorm > 10
	You hear a raspy voice inside your head say, "Speak. Truth." Odd...

*fake_choice
	#Tell the entire truth
		*set wisdom %+ 5
		Cortar nods solemnly. "Good, ${name}, good. I anticipated you would lie, but you have pleasantly surprised me.You should know, I already knew the story. If you continue to tell the truth, we could accomplish great things."
		*page_break
	#Downplay your abilities
		You reveal some of the truth, but certainly not all of it, and you only share the basics of what you do choose to reveal.
		
		*set wisdom %- 5
		Cortar sighs heavily as he begins steepling his fingers. "${name}, ${name}, ${name}... What should I do with you? I gave you the oppurtunity to tell the truth. The full truth. You didn't. You told parts, but I've already heard what happened from four reliable sources what actually happened. I am going to make this as clear as humanely possible. If you lie, I will have you killed. If you tell a half-truth, I will have you killed. If you even think about lying, I will have you killed. Do you understand?"
		
		You nod your head slowly. Clearly Cortar outplayed you. If you want to try and deceive him again, perhaps it would be wise to plan ahead...
		*page_break
Cortar leans forward, locking eyes with you. You see a cold resolve within his deep emerald eyes. "Now. I'm sure you're wondering what training I have in store for you. While I will be here to guide you, ultimately what you choose to do with your time will be up to you. You can focus on developing your magic. You can try and build your political connections with other lords. If you want, I can even take you on a military campaign. The choice is yours. In addition, I will be allowing you to run your own fief and create your own private army to aid you, under my supervision of course. But know this, at the end of two years time, you will be tested. You are only eighteen; a tutelage program is appropriate for you at this age. However, once you are an adult that changes. You must earn my mentorship. Do you have questions?"
*label cortarquestions
*fake_choice
	*hide_reuse #"Is there any hope Ciarda won't eventually kill me?"
		Cortar sighs and leans his head back. "I truly can't say. Perhaps if you prove your loyalty and worth... she might let you live. But, ${name}, do not be fooled by her demeanor. She may appear jovial and whimsical... Her heart is black. She is the most cunning person I have ever met. And... she is relentless. If she wants you dead, there is no stopping her. My advice? Train as hard as you possibly can. Then pray."
	*hide_reuse #"Where are we going?"
		Cortar smiles. "Only to the most illustrious palace not named The Capital. In truth, I own all the land around the Capital for as far as the eye can see. Ciarda has given me dominion over this land to rule as I see fit. However, she is still the ultimate authority."
		*goto cortarquestions
	*hide_reuse #"What about my companions? Gwinn and Eltariel?"
		Cortar purses his lips. "I have no say in their fate. I can request their servitude, but Ciarda holds the final decision in their fates. Perhaps you will see them again, but don't hold your breath. You must learn to not form attachments. For attachment can only lead to pain."
		*goto cortarquestions
	#"I have no more questions."
		"Very good. We shall arrive shortly and your training will begin immediately." Then Cortar falls silent.
*page_break A few hours later...
The carriage finally lurches to a stop. Cortar laughs as he throws open the door. "My, it is good to be home!" The afternoon sun dances on his armor as he strides up the stairs. Looking up, a huge manor lays before you. Ancient columns line the house like a protective screen, walls of ivy obscuring the marble engravings upon them. Two massive stone dragons flank the stairs, obsidian eyes gleaming. Each step bears an intricate design; not one step resembles another. A large set of subdued crimson doors mark the entry way. Every three columns a guard stands watch, stonily gazing out into the world. Cortar turns and motions for you to come. Walking up the stairs, you gasp as Cortar throws open the doors.

Inside the manor, a very different sight from the extravagant exterior greets you. The walls, floors, and stairs are a faded gray stone. Aside from the guards, there is no color anywhere. You can see no furniture, not even a carpet or entry mat. 

Perplexed, you turn to Cortar. "Wh-why?" Cortar glances at you. "Why what? Lesson one: be more precise. For the sake of moving things along, I will assume you are referring to my lovely interior decorating. Lesson two: do not squander your resources on flippant desires. The outside was already like this when I moved here. But the interior, that was empty. I left it as such. I have peasants to feed, troops to arm, and bribes to make. I cannot afford to spend my funds on frivilous things. With that out of the way, we need to go to the war room. Follow me."

A few minutes later you are standing in the war room. Cortar pulls out a long sheet of paper with various indecipherabel symbols on it. Noticing your confused look, Cortar groans. "Don't tell me you can't read Empirical Basic." Blood rushes to your face and you avert your eyes. Cortar throws up his arms and curses. "Bloody of course. You only know that farmer pidgin they teach out west don't you?" Rubbing his forehead, Cortar mutters, "I guess I'll add 'Learn basic communication skills' to the list." He quickly scribbles something down. "As I was about to say, there's twelve months in a year, yes? Each course of study you take will be measured in months, whether it be extraordinarily long, such as a campaign which runs approximately eight to ten months, or something very short, such as, I don't know, learning a basic language. One to two months." He shoots you a dirty glare.
*page_break
"I'll have a scribe come and translate this for you. Then you shall choose your first objecive. Remember: you have two years. Choose wisely. I have other matters to attend to, but I am here if you need me." With that, Cortar leaves. 

After several minutes, the scribe finishes his work and rushes away. You examine the document and find this:
*page_break
[i]Learn Empirical Basic 1-2 months
Form political ties 6-8 months
Go on a campaign 8-10 months
Magic Training ? months
Build army 4-5 months
Train Army 2-3 months
Create a league of assassins 6-8 months
Strengthen economy 3-4 months[/i]
*ending