1.1|| Crown of Blood

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The crown upon his head weighed a ton.

And even if he was aware that it couldn't be possible, Kale Pengranton, going by his former navy name of Cage, was sure blood still covered it, trickling down his temple.

He'd scrubbed it himself even after palace staff had made sure to clean it. He still washed it every time he had to put it on. And yet, it seemed to drip blood whenever he placed it upon his head.

If he didn't need it, he would toss it into the abyss and never place it upon his head again. Unfortunately, he didn't have that luxury. For it was precisely the crown of blood which allowed him to stand in the stateroom of the Grand Palace in Valona, his hands placed upon the table which contained the map of Iride, and glance upon it without fear that he would be seized and imprisoned at once.

"Cage?" Jazz's voice was patient but firm.

Cage tried to shake out of his stupor, ignore the vivid sensation of blood sliding down his face, and focus on the map again. It didn't hold anything new because he hadn't changed anything on it. All the pins and flags were in the exact same places he'd established two weeks ago, when he'd started his reign.

"So no word from Endir." The conclusion was poor, since Malcom had mentioned that much only minutes ago.

"No, your majesty," Malcom confirmed. Again.

Cage heaved a sigh and straightened, his gaze moving from the map to the captain of his guard. "What of the patrols in the mountains?"

"They report no unusual activity from Endir. However..." Malcom hesitated for a few moments. "As before, the mines seem to be overrun by kobolds. It's nothing we cannot handle, but we have never seen so many of them."

Cage nodded, all the while clenching his fists and keeping them under the table. The matter of magic was still a sore subject and he hadn't gotten around to giving any new directives regarding it.

Even if he was filled to the brim with it, he was aware that he couldn't remove the ban on magic at once after over thirty years in which the people of Iride had been indoctrinated to fear it above all else. His subjects would still see him as a monster if they knew he was cursed. Very few people knew.

"There is one more thing." Malcolm shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "There are... Strange tracks in the border forests, heading for the Grey Mountains."

Cage tilted his head. "Strange how?"

"Birdlike, but huge."

The image of such a track flashed to the forefront of Cage's mind. He'd seen such a track himself, in the snow that spring, when he'd traveled from his castle near Darkwood to Valona. He'd been intrigued and touched it. The moment he had, he'd seen a strange creature. A goblin.

"And they're heading towards the border with Endir?"

"Yes, they seem to. But we've never seen anything like them before."

Cage wasn't sure if he should share his knowledge. Unlike kobolds who were seen as pests, goblins were truly magical creatures. It might alarm Malcom and his entire army and he surely didn't want to do that.

"Thank you, Malcom," he said, his voice even. "I'll keep that in mind." And with a wave of his hand, dismissed the captain of his guard.

Malcom didn't seem convinced that he'd done all he had come to do, but he bowed and left the room. Cage could finally let out the groan building inside his chest and lift his hands. Tendrils of lightning coiled around his forearms as his frustration fueled the magic inside him.

"Well, it's not obvious that you hate this at all," Jazz observed, his black eyes still fixed on the map on the surface of the table

"You knew this." Cage took the crown off his head and threw it on the table. It clattered dully on the marble surface. "This atrocity doesn't belong to me."

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