Dark Magical Orchestra

 

The Truth

 

History is a lie. The world you read about in textbooks and museums is a contrivance–one created to erase the true past from the memories of the ignorant masses. For thousands of years, empires have risen and fallen. At the head of each of these empires a champion stands, urged on to glory by the voice of god behind him.

Between each Imperial age, there is a great war–one which determines the fate of the next era of mankind.

This is the story of one such war and its champions. Will the coming epoch be driven by science or arts, nature or wealth, might or mystery?

The future is uncertain, the past is lost. All that remains is the promise of glory and the struggle at hand, as the descendants of empires past fight to regain the glory of their ancestors.

 

The Renaissance Empire

 

Long ago, in an age of strange arts and arcane magic and dark secrets, there reigned over our world a single Lord, the Most Dark Emperor, whose line carried the fate of the earth in its hands for over three hundred years. A master of the myriad secrets of life and death, light and shadow, truth and lies, the Emperor and his descendants held sway over the continent of Europe and large portions of Asia with an iron hand.

 

However, time renders all things to naught, and as day breaking from a long night, the dark age of the so-called “Renaissance Empire” was ended. The line of the Most Dark Emperor was destroyed, and his subjects scattered to the corners of the earth. As the victors over the Renaissance Empire slowly erased its existence from history, they left behind a single link, hidden away from the world–the last of a chain of direct descendants of the Imperial Line.

 

In the sparsely populated recesses of Romania, the family Garidion–last true descendants of the Renaissance Empire–have lived for generations, cultivating their arts and magics, searching out allies, and preparing for the day when an Imperial heir will once more rule over the world.

 

This is the legend of Cosette Garidion, the last heir to her family’s legacy and power…

* * * * *

Deep recessed in the mountains of Eastern Europe, a quaint villa stood, cut off from humanity. It is here, in the year 1950, where one might discover the abode of young Cosette Garidion. Known in some circles as the Garidion Empress, or as the Witch Queen Black Cosette, the old legends used to scare children are not so true as one would imagine. The everyday life of the heiress Cosette was not so different than yours or mine. Not on most days, at least.

On this calm, fair-weathered day of her eighteenth year, Cosette was to be found reading alone in her study. She turned another page of the musty grimoire on the desk in front of her, then gave a sigh of something not unlike boredom. Her silvery white hair fell across a pale back, over a black and raspberry-colored dress handed down through the ages of her illustrious family. Her golden-hazel eyes, however, shone with a sharpness and force of will that could not be hid under a visage of nonchalance.

On a piece of paper beside, her, she was scribbling various calculations, notes, and thoughts. Every few moments, she would stand up and walk over to a large board, covered with an ornate map of the world, study it for a bit, then return to her previous seat to continue making notes.

Upon her board were various pieces, like soldiers or chariots or kings. Even monsters and eldritch creatures loomed among them. Every few minutes, after consulting her books and papers extensively, Cosette would move a few pieces, and slide a dial on the table forward one notch.

Cosette began moving more rapidly now, adding and removing pieces, replacing them with deep red pieces from a chest nearby. After a hundred trips to the table and back, with four hours of work behind her, the dial at last read 2050 as she removed the last non-red piece from the board.

With a huff of frustration, she scuttled the red pieces off the board and into the same chest as the discarded ones. With a sigh, she began returning the board to its previous state, and resetting the dial to its initial value of 1950.

“A hundred years is too long to rebuild the empire.” She sighed, looking at a picture which hung above the study’s old mantle. It was an oil painting of an ancient leader, one forgotten by history. It was a portrait of a figure Cosette Garidion traced her deep family roots back to, and whose legacy it had been her life’s dream to restore.

It was too early for a fire, but she would probably have to put one together soon. The Spring weather still was not warm enough that she could stay up too late without proper heat.

Perhaps I could call Narshe to do it for me. Servants must be kept in practice if they are to be effective. Cosette thought, flopping down into her wing-backed chair before the fireplace. The exercise she had just completed had taken a toll on her mental reserves, and she contemplated whether it would be more trouble to light the fire herself, or to deal with the one remaining servant of her household–a seven-century old vampire with a number of hobbies, interests, and conversation topics which were, to be as kind as possible, not fit for polite company.

As she was considering calling upon the one other soul within fifty miles, she was met with the sound of a loud crash, followed by the whining voice of her compatriot. “Ohhh, Coseeeeeette! Heeeeeelp meeeee!”

There was not a sense of urgency in the words, and they were drawn out in an annoyingly blithe singsong way. Even after she heard the crashing downstairs and felt the shaking of the old villa, the heiress could not be too bothered to hurry.

She traipsed down the red carpeted hallway and descended the staircase, stopping to brush some dust from a vase, before another shockwave rumbling through the house almost knocked her from her feet.

“What is it now, Narshe?” Cosette called back, in a voice that didn’t attempt to hide a single ounce of annoyance.

From the door to the basement, another woman appeared. She had reddish eyes behind thick spectacles, and a light brown cloak over her blue skirt and shirt. Disarrayed brown hair was sticking out at odd angles from a pinwheel bun held in place by two crossing sticks, and her glasses sat slightly astray on a small nose. Her build was tall and curvy, and her clothes just a little tighter than they needed to be. By contrast, she seemed much more feminine than the adolescent-figured Cosette.

“Ah, well…” She hesitated. “there was a problem with my binding spell.” The vampire shrugged, straightening her glasses.

“What did you set loose this time?” Cosette’s face was a picture of exasperation. More than urgency, a genuine annoyance at the monotony of cleaning up for Narshe’s errors was apparent in her tone.

“Hmm… a Destroyer?” Narshe scratched the back of her head with a nervous laugh. “I needed demon tears for my experiment.”

“You can’t bind a Destroyer.” Cosette’s mouth hung open a bit, giving her servant a disbelieving look. “What sort of fool… why didn’t you just summon a Mourner? They practically give away tears.”

Narshe gave a coy look, “Well the summoning would have involved us performing a certain… how to say… ‘ritual,’ and the last time we tried it you said that it made you really uncomforta-”

“That never happened, and stop involving me in your decadent fantasies. There are twelve ways to summon Mourners, why do you only know of the most repulsive one?” Cosette’s hands rested on her hips in a kind of pout. “No, I don’t even want to know.” She added quickly.

At about that moment, the house shook again, and with a colossal force, a terrific beast smashed through the wall which separated the main villa from Narshe’s laboratories.

A huge monster, around eight feet tall, burst into the foyer of the villa. Its skin was a dark brown, and reeked of sulfur. Red hair ran down its head and back. Large green eyes glanced hastily around the room, as three complete rows of vicious, knife-edged teeth clicked a few times, eager for something to devour.

“You there,” Cosette pointed to the beast in an imperious manner, “desist immediately!”

The demon gave her a critical look. In response, it hefted a three hundred year-old statue of one of Cosette’s ancestors over its head and lobbed it at the girl. As gracefully as it could be managed, Cosette leapt out of the way as the statue whizzed by a hair’s breadth to the left, crashing terrifically into the wall behind her in an explosion of limestone.

She shook her head and stood up, patting a few wrinkles out of her dress. “How… how dare you defy me?!” She pouted, stamping her foot.

Narshe looked up at the demon towering over her and gave a little shriek, taking a step back. The demon grabbed her with a swift movement, preventing her escape, and lifted her over its open jaws.

“Oh, Coseeeeette! It’s got meeeee!” Narshe whined.

“That seems like the result of a critical error on your part.” Cosette sneered. The impact of the statue against the villa wall had turned the old relic nearly to dust, and the young witch was kneeled down, collecting fragments of it into her hand.

“That’s true…” The vampire mumbled. With a snapping sound, her whole body dissolved into a red mist, which floated out of the demon’s fingers just as it was about to crunch down on her head.

Cosette walked calmly down the stairs, “Listen here, listen here.” She got the demon’s attention. “You’ve got a lot of nerve to break into my home and start destroying my things, but I can kind of respect that.”

The demon began to move, but She held out a hand to signal that she wasn’t done yet. There was a commanding tone in the girl’s voice–something inherited perhaps–that demanded attention. That simple tone was the only thing separating her from a particularly gruesome end. The demon scratched its claws into the ground beneath its feet, splintering the old wood, yet it listened to her speak.

“Actually, it’s my villa.” The red mist answered as it collected itself together and resumed the form of Narshe.

“Yes, but I own you.” Cosette scowled back. She was walking in a circle around the demon now, as she spoke. “I realize you like to break things, but really, you could be more polite. At least it was great-great-great…” She paused for a moment to count greats, “great-great grandfather Calval. I didn’t really like him anyway.” She paused at the spot where the statue used to stand and looked down with a slight smirk, before resuming her pacing.

“Anyway, point in point.” The girl continued, “You like to break things, and I have things that I want broken. Why don’t we work out something more beneficial to both sides?”

The demon spoke in a raspy, infernal tone. “Your suggestion presents no gain for me, mortal. Whether I destroy you and your things or some other’s, it’s all the same for me. I can, and will, destroy you first, then move on to the others.” It lifted a massive fist to crush Cosette in a single blow.

“There’s a certain critical flaw in your plan.” Cosette held up a finger and gave a slight smirk, as the demon’s fist fell above her.

In a flash of light, the creature’s hand shot back, burning in white fire. It had been repelled by some invisible force.

“A circle of bone shall bind Calamity.” She quoted from one of her grimoires. A trickle of white limestone dust from the ruined statue fell from Cosette’s hands. She clapped them together in an attempt to clean them off. Surely enough, a ring of the substance followed the path she had walked, a complete circle around the demon. “Now that you’re in my power, the table turns, destroyer. Will you still refuse me?”

“I thought you said that Destroyers couldn’t be bound…” Narshe made a thoughtful gesture, biting one of her long, red fingernails.

“I said that you can’t bind a Destroyer. For me, it’s a paltry feat.” Cosette tossed her hair back, laughing. “I am a descendant of King Solomon, after all.”

The demon roared in anger, slamming its fists several more times against its mystic prison, before curling up upon the floor and nursing its wounds.

“Narshe.” Cosette turned to her accomplice. “Bring me a vessel, and some rings.”

“Ah, right away, mistress.” Narshe headed off, a fanged smile set across her features.

“And don’t call me ‘mistress’.” Cosette’s yell chased her off.

“Release me now, and I will leave you in peace.” The demon spoke again, in as civil a tone as a Destroyer could manage. “If you bind me, you shall come to dearly regret it, mortal. My master is the Archdemon Overlord Knale, a twelfth-ranked sovereign of the pit, and reserves dear tortures to those interfering with her servants.”

“Consider your offer considered… and declined.” Cosette shrugged, “If your master had disciplined you well enough to kill me rather than listen to my speech, perhaps I would be afraid of her.”

Narshe returned, carrying a set of polished bone bangles in one hand, and the lifeless body of a what appeared to be another young girl over her shoulder.

“This was a rather fun one.” She dumped the girl on the floor, licking her fingers. Two bite marks were clearly visible on the girl’s neck, as well as various other places on her body. Narshe knelt down and affixed the bangles to the girl’s wrists, ankles, and neck. She was probably near to Cosette’s age, but with darker skin, and a more athletic build. Her shoulder-length red hair fell over closed eyes and a smooth face with distinct features.

“You really are a despicable creature, do you know that?” Cosette stepped past Narshe and grabbed hold of the dead girl’s arm, tugging. The corpse moved a few inches across the floor, despite decent effort from Cosette.

“Move her over there.” The heiress nodded her head toward the other end of the room, dropping the corpse’s arm in as dignified a manner as she could manage.

“As you wish, mistress.” Narshe giggled, hefting the form of the girl with one hand, and carrying it across the room.

“Now, we can do this the easy way…” Cosette addressed the demon, pointing an imperious finger at it, “or the long way.”

“Don’t presume to torture me, pathetic mortal. That is a glory reserved for Lord Knale alone.” The demon struck again, succeeding in injuring itself even more badly.

“No, I can’t force you to do anything, of course…” Cosette laughed. “But I know what demons like you fear the most.”

“I fear nothing!” The demon struck again, blasting itself with another crash of white flames.

“Precisely, precisely. I’m just going to leave you here alone until you decide to obey me of your own free will. Let me know when the boredom gets to you, and we’ll talk again.” Cosette made a motion with her fingers for Narshe to follow, and the two left.

* * * * *

Five minutes later…

“Damn you, mortal! I concede!” The demon bellowed. Immediately, Cosette and Narshe popped back out from the other room.

“Hehe… even weaker than you imagined.” Narshe snickered.

“Do what you like, wretch, just let me out of here!” The demon roared.

“Of course. Once you inhabit this body, you’ll be free to move around as you like.” Cosette tipped her head again to Narshe, and the vampire lifted the girl’s body into the air, tossing it to the demon.

Throwing its head back, the demon seemed to dematerialize as its essence was absorbed into the corpse. In a bright flash of light, then total silence, the body collapsed onto the ground, immobile, but breathing once more.

With a twitch, it moved. With another burst of motion, the possessed body set its feet upon ground heavily. As though pulled up by marionette strings, the body rose to a full standing position. The form of the girl was there, but it was the demon’s aura glowing behind her, a radiant power impossible to ignore.

“Now to destroy you both for this indiscretion…” the voice was a bit higher pitched, but still a somewhat low mismatch for the body the demon inhabited. It began to walk towards Cosette, stepping over the limestone circle with ease.

“Stop there, servant.” Cosette ordered. The body of the demon halted automatically at her command.

“What is this?!” The demon’s body froze in mid step, completely immobilized.

“A human whose blood is taken by a vampire becomes a ghoul, and a ghoul can’t disobey the commands of the vampire who creates it.” Narshe shrugged, tapping her neck to remind the demon of the bite marks which covered her body.

“Or the master of that vampire.” Cosette smirked coolly at the bound demon before her. “These rings of bone will bind you to the body, which only obeys my commands. So then, so far as no harm comes to me, Narshe, or our possessions, you are free to do as you wish within the grounds of this manor. Consider yourself dismissed, slave.”

“Raaaaaaaaah!!!” The demon roared and swung her fist, which stopped a hair’s breadth from Cosette’s face. “Damn you, witch!”

“Ah, I’m sure we’ll be having lots of fun together, my new pet…” Narshe licked her lips, snapping back into a red mist, which whisked out of the room and back into her laboratories. Her voice echoed from the lower reaches of the villa, “Come here, and I’ll make you cry some tears for me.”

Cosette laughed a high pitched laugh, and waved the demon off. Despite its curses and cries of protest, it unwillingly followed Narshe to the south end of the villa.

Back in her study, the heiress drew another piece from the chest beside her table, and placed a red Destroyer demon beside her own piece on the board. Maybe her calculations would prove different this time…