A winter like this hadn't been seen in Prince Radgar's lands for a long time. Snow fell two meters deep, and the biting frost had turned it into a rock-hard crust. It covered the forests, fields, and villages; the peasants couldn't venture beyond their huts, so they were forced to starve, though this was nothing new to them...
Snow also covered the entire road leading to the palace, so the prince also remained confined to the gloomy walls of his residence.
But something was troubling him. A tall, thin, balding man paced back and forth in his small chamber. His perpetually pale face and always impassive, cold eyes seemed genuinely preoccupied this time.
The courtiers, servants, and even the Duchess didn't quite know how to react in such a situation. Everyone feared Radgar. He had once condemned people to death without hesitation for "disobeying the law"—there was simply no other punishment. And the "law" in these lands, as he himself said, was only HE—Prince Radgar.
No codes were necessary, for the law existed only in his head. Often, breaking the law (punished, of course, in the only possible way) could be picking mushrooms in the prince's forests, or—what ultimately decided the matter—cutting down trees or hunting. He introduced a terror that could not have lasted so long if not for one thing. His greatest treasure, the ring, which he never parted with, the prince wore proudly on his right hand, constantly examining it with rapt attention and polishing the pure gold from which it was forged. And many had already discovered that it was no ordinary trinket...
Thanks to him, no one could oppose the prince's will. His orders were carried out with almost fanatical obedience, and Rodgar exercised his power very often.
It's no wonder, then, that no one had any idea what such a person could be worried about. Someone with virtually unlimited power...
And yet, the prince hadn't left his chamber for several weeks. Only his wife saw him, though she limited herself to bringing him meals.
"It's today, the day has finally come... finally," Rodgar paced back and forth. "Finally... today... today everything will be clear."
His always icy face took on a strange, indefinable expression, and for perhaps the first time in his life, a gleam appeared in his eyes, a gleam that could not portend anything good, but could mean literally anything. One thing was certain, the prince had never been in such a state before. Every now and then, he nervously glanced at the chest of drawers, where a thick book with a beautiful gilded binding lay.
"Finally, everything will be fulfilled!
" "AS IT WAS WRITTEN." The prince suddenly heard a terrifyingly low voice, emerging as if from some hellish abyss. "Yes... undoubtedly from the very depths of hell," he thought.
He froze. He knew that when he turned around, nothing would ever be the same. He had waited so long for this moment... and yet now he hesitated. Perhaps this was the last gasp of his humanity, the last spark of humanity that still burned within him, and now it knew it, too, would die. Forever.
Finally, its end had come... The Prince turned and looked behind him.
An older man stood there, with close-cropped black hair, a pointed beard, and such extraordinary eyes. Both black, TOO black, he thought immediately.
"The time has come to tell the people the truth." The stranger's voice rang like a bell in the empty chamber, reaching the Prince's ears and reverberating in his head with magnified force. He already knew he wouldn't be able to say anything, but as he looked at it, he realized that people couldn't speak...
"Your hand, through me, completed a great work yesterday – my Gospel, the Gospel of Truth." The figure looked toward the dresser. Rodgar was no longer able to, after all, people can't look... "This Book will make people aware of the Truth, prepare them for our coming. And it will happen because of you! You will become my apostle, a sower of pain and suffering! You will go out into the world, you will see, you will hear, you will be able to speak, you will TEACH! You will spread the truth, you will become a messenger who will force these wretched creatures to worship Us with fire!"
Rodgar no longer feared anything; only now did he understand the meaning of true peace. His heart was filled with joy and pride. He didn't stop looking into the eyes of his Lord, not even for a moment, but with a gaze full of fervor and fierceness. But he couldn't say anything, not yet...
Those eyes... they were so black... it seemed to him that the blackness was consuming him, drawing him in.
Two unusual, black dots beckoned him, and the Servant had no intention of resisting. This continued for a few moments, until the Prince finally lost consciousness, his body slumping limply to the marble floor...
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