Pershal closed his eyes while Oshea hummed and his vision wavered and faded.

Clouds were beginning to gather outside and the dark gray of them brought a smile to Duchess Gohlynne’s face. These clouds were natural, nothing more than the heralds of Spring rain, but they brought to mind the eventuality she had foreseen.

“Husband?” she called out and at once became aware of where he was within the castle. Within seconds, he began to move and came to her in her rooms.

“I believe you need something, my dear,” Duke Parklan said in his smooth and commanding voice.

Duchess Gohlynne’s smile broadened. Her husband was a natural leader, tall and with broad shoulders. He was powerfully built and had just enough gray hair so as to not risk appearing too youthful without seeming old. People wanted to follow a man like him. Physical presence was, more often than not, far more important to people than actual skill in leading and Duke Parklan was a mountain of a man. Fortunately he was also a skillful orator and strategist as well. Yes, she had chosen well when she married him. His right to the throne, once his parents, the King and Queen, were dead, was also a key factor in her decision.

“My love?” Duke Parklan inquired when she did not at first respond to him.

“I am wondering,” Duchess Gohlynne mused casually, “how long your counselors will be staying with us?”

“I believe I have convinced them to remain with us for the full week,” he replied confidently.

“And they have each brought what they will need for their stay?” she asked.

“Not quite,” Duke Parklan said and his expression darkened. “Sir Herkordt and Lord Muers have both arrived alone.”

Duchess Gohlynne’s smile fell and she pursed her lips.

“Are they willing to send for what they need?” she asked.

Duke Parklan shook his head.

“They have each expressed…reluctance towards that suggestion.”

“It is not a suggestion!” Duchess Gohlynne cried out, briefly losing her temper. “They must each supply the Truths that we need if they are to walk the Seven Night’s Path, they know this! We cannot supply it for them.”

“I have reminded them each of this fact,” Duke Parklan said.

She was still for a few moments, humming as she thought on the situation, before saying in her usual pleasant tones, “Let us go and see our guests. I believe we can still make up for their insufficiencies.”

Duke Parklan offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her down to his council chambers where the others awaited them.

“My honored guests,” she said as soon as they entered the room. “Welcome to Ravencrag.”

Half a dozen men sat around a large table, all of them looking slightly nervous. They each rose to their feet when she spoke and bowed low to her.

“I do believe,” Duchess Gohlynne went on in pleasant tones, “that you could all do with some refreshment.”

Some of the men nodded appreciatively but others shifted uneasily on their feet. Their presence here was not suppose to be widely known and the surest way for word to get out of their visit was to allow servants to see them. Duchess Gohlynne knew all of this, and it was partly for that reason that she made such an offer. She wanted them to be uneasy for the moment so that she could lull them into a greater sense of security, false though it may be.

“Not to worry, my Lords,” she said, “our servants have been dismissed for the day. I will serve you,” and then turning to her husband she added, “if you will deign to allow it.”

Duke Parklan bowed to her to show his assent. The gathered Knights and noble Lords all looked appeased and they relaxed as she stepped from the room.

They were dangerous men and their ambitions made it easy to direct the threat they posed. Each of them had taken time to sway, to convince, and years of careful planning and politicking had gone into preparing for this evening. She laughed to herself as she realized that only she was truly aware of how close they all were to achieving their goals. Well, maybe not exactly theirgoals. Her goals, though, were certainly about to bear fruit.

As she walked, Duchess Gohlynne hummed aloud and brought the kitchens to her. Once there she hummed the pies and pastries into being and onto a tray. As she carried them back towards the council chamber she continued to hum over them, gently and carefully pushing their Truth into the forms she needed. She had hoped to avoid needing to use such brute force with her husband and his men, but with both Sir Herkordt and Lord Muers refusal to provide the needed…materials, there weren’t many options open to her. Still, this way would still achieve her goals even if it wouldn’t be as elegant as she had hoped.

“My dear Lords,” Duchess Gohlynne purred when she reentered the council chamber. Again the men stood to welcome her return and she handed out the pies and pastries she had crafted for them.

“And for you my dearest,” she said when she offered the final pastry to Duke Parklan.

He eyed her warily for only the briefest of moments before accepting and eating it. His suspicion, slight though it had been, was surprising to her. She thought she had won him over completely years ago. Still, as he ate the pastry she knew she needn’t worry. Already, the Truth of the pies and pastries was mingling with the Truths of the men eating them. One by one their heads wobbled, their eyes slid in and out of focus, and their expressions went slack. Before long, the room was silent as the men stood, motionless, surrounding the table.

Duchess Gohlynne hummed at once and the council chamber was taken away and in its place she brought the tower. He brought the men with her and now, rather than standing around the table, they stood around a group of four tightly bound individuals. Two were wives to two of the Lords, whereas the other two were children, each belonging to one of the other two remaining Lords. Each was to most beloved person to the respective Lord, and such bonds lent themselves to powerful Truths. The offerings, the Truths, needed to be sacrificed in order to bring about Duchess’s Gohlynne’s vision. Of course, there were suppose to be six. One for each of the Lords. However, she could still make this work, though it would require making additional sacrifices she hadn’t initially been intending to make.

“Sir Herkordt,” Duchess Gohlynne said, and her voice was no longer soft and demure but instead resounded powerfully as though it came from the very walls of the castle. “Lord Muers, both of you failed to provide the needed Truth, therefore I shall use your own Truths!”

The two men stepped forward, leaving the circle and joining the bound captive in the middle. Their faces were beginning to regain some expression and shock and fear began to spread across them. Duchess Gohlynne needed to control them, but to make full use of their Truths she would have to eventually release them so that their Truths could be torn from them fully against their wills in order to produce the new Truth she wanted to form.

Once the two men had joined the others, Duchess Gohlynne hummed and bonds appeared and secured the two men.

“It is fortunate,” she said, stroking the two men’s faces, terror playing fully on their faces now, “that my husband and I are so very fond of the two of you.”

The four remaining Lords, along with Duke Parklan, closed in as best they could around the six captives and Duchess Gohlynne stepped back and positioned herself directly behind her husband. The five men, in contrast to the prisoners, were still expressionless. Duchess Gohlynne needed to control them for a bit longer.

As one, the five men began to hum. Together, they tore the Truth’s of the captives away, rending it in pieces as they went. Six voices cried out together against the intrusion but were powerless against the assault. Their bodies twisted and contorted, shifted and changed as their Truth’s were brutalized. As this played out, Duchess Gohlynne herself began to hum. She began softly but grew louder and more powerful as the Truths melded and were reformed. As they hummed, their sacrifices continued to cry out in pain and anguish but the Lords, Duke Parklan, and Duchess Gohlynne did not stop. The sun set and night enshrouded them and still they hummed and tore at their loved one’s Truths.

So much love, so much sacrificedlove, was a powerful thing. Combining that sacrifice with the terror, the pain, and ultimately the death of those loved one, made for a vast and terrible rent. Such Truths generally didn’t last long enough to be of any use but with the Lords all focusing on holding it in place Duchess Gohlynne was able to shape and direct it.

The days and nights began to meld together as Duchess Gohlynne focused everything she could on controlling and shaping the Truths they were tearing away. One by one, the sacrificial loved ones began to die and the Truth of their death was caught and mingled with their suffering. Duchess Gohlynne herself felt the pang of loss as Sir Herkordt became the first to die. He had been her first love, years ago when they were both much younger. In his dying Truth she saw the time they’d spent together and it was clear for all to see how much love for her he still bore.

Again she felt that sorrow when Lord Muers, her last lover before she married Duke Parklan, was torn asunder and his agonizing screams ended. She wept for the others who, in turn, were killed for her ambition, for even though she did not love them specifically, she could feel the pain of their husbands and fathers. And she had, at one time or another, loved each of those men, truly and deeply. This was her sacrifice.

Even as she quailed before the growing Truths of pain and sorrow, she held firm to her resolve and Willed them to continue. For years, decades, she had planned for this moment. She had known from the beginning the awful price she would be called on to pay, had accepted it, and would not yield now.

From an early age, she had devised how she would become queen, and that eternally. She’d been able to hear the hum of the world around her for as long as she could remember and had needed no teacher to begin shaping the Truths around her. This, however, brought with it not a greater appreciation for for all things, but rather a dissatisfaction. The world could be so much more, but most people were too ignorant to make use of what was available to them. She wanted to change things, to change people, but knew all too well that forcing a Truth upon anything, especially another person, was not only foolish, but also dangerous. A Truth forced upon another was more likely to create a rent and leave the person torn and cursed. If she was going to really change things, change people, she would have to do it primarily through persuasion. And persuasion takes time.

One by one, Duchess Gohlynne had found her loves, listening carefully to the hum of their Truths to ensure they would be sufficient for her needs. And she did love them, each of them. Duke Parklan she loved the most.

Once the love, pain, and death of the six prisoners was all gathered, she turned her focus now towards Cahr Nathos and the royal city. It seemed like ages passed while her mind sought out Cahr Nathos, reaching slowly over hills, through forests, and finally coming to the foothills of the Rouros Mountains. With her Will now bent towards the capitol, the four Lords channeled their Wills through Duke Parklan, who in turn channeled his Will into that of his wife.

The strength of their love for the dead gave power to their Will and carried with it the pain, the suffering, and the death that they had captured and that Duchess Gohlynne had molded. At once the inhabitants of Cahr Nathos had those terrible Truths thrust over and into their own Truths, tearing and gashing their Truth’s as it went. The foundations of the city itself was effected by the power of the curse, toppling buildings and ruining the walls of the city. Fires erupted, people cried out as they died, animals fled in terror, and creatures of unimaginable and twisted forms shambled through the streets, warped by the accursed Will of Duchess Gohlynne and the five men she loved so dearly.

With each new death, Duchess Gohlynne caught the scraps of Truth that bore the life that should have been lived, the years now stolen, and she held onto them tightly with her Will. Turning her attention to her own Truth she wove those years into her own Truth.

And yet still she wept for she was not yet done and she had yet more to loose if she was to gain what she fully desired. Duchess Gohlynne had led each of the men before her along by careful threads of hints and promises, only touching their Truths when absolutely necessary. And now they were about to learn the Truth she had hidden from the since the beginning.

As the royal city burned and the monstrosities that remained within writhed and suffered in their death throes, Duchess Gohlynne released the men from her control. They wavered, blinking, weary from the days they’d spent standing and humming to torture and kill those they loved most, and as they were distracted, Duchess Gohlynne turned her Will upon them. They were powerfully Willed men, each of them, but the disorientation and the prolonged effort to contain the Truths of their dying loved ones had cost them dearly and so they were unprepared for Duchess Gohlynne’s assault.

She did not tear or warp them as had been done to the others, though that is not to say that what she did was not unpleasant. She took them and began melding their Truths, slowly, carefully, expertly, together, keeping the parts that she needed while simultaneously discarding the Truths that she did not. It was a delicate thing to do since she needed them to remain alive throughout the process and the men screamed as they fought and struggled against her Will. There were, at times, moments when she feared she may not be able to hold them and on a couple of occasions where one of them nearly broke free. However, as the days passed they struggled less and she brought their Truths into the form she desired.

Not every Truth was as tangible as touch, taste, smell, and so on. Some were more abstract and yet it was these that tended to have the greatest influence and power. Truths that make a person seem trustworthy, that give them authority, that grant them the right to rule, are incredibly rare. Yet each of these men she had come to love, each bore those Truths and it was those Truths that Duchess Gohlynne was stripping away from them and then, just as she had done with the Truths of the unspent years, she stitched them into her own Truth.

She would rule, and the people would love her, they would trust her, they would follow her, as they had done for these men she had loved. When at last her work was done there was nothing in the tower save for herself. She had so thoroughly worked her Will upon the others that not even the Truth’s of their corpses remained. They had never been. Their Truths, their lives, were now hers. She was the heir to the throne. She was the beloved ruler of the land, and those other men, to the people, would fade into barely remembered shades.

Queen Gohlynne hummed to her domain and as it reformed into her bedroom, Pershal found himself sitting once again on the ground on the Rouros Mountains overlooking the ruins of Cahr Nathos.

Oshea was silent now and her expression was inscrutable as she too looked down on the destruction below. In that manner they sat together until Pershal faded back into Oshea’s domain and he found himself back beside the hearth he’d been cleaning out prior to Oshea’s summons.

Pershal had so many questions and he regretted not asking them while he and Oshea were there on the Rouros Mountains. Yet in that moment when they’d been sitting together, he’d been so overwhelmed by not only what he’d seen, but the manner in which Oshea had shown it to him, almost as if he had been Queen Gohlynne. He spent the rest of the evening humming his Truth to himself and searching it over as best he could with his limited skill, hoping to make sure he was his own self and not altered by her or anyone else.