Journal Entry - Obtoxicullous

Balthier Cullach—the Marquis of Homenil and the only Serellian noble to don the title, for good reason. Most other Serellian nobles hold the title Jarl or Earl; however, the Cullach family has always made a point to single themselves out from others due to some long-held belief that they are unique.

From what I've gathered, this belief stems dominantly from their heritage, which, like most human clans, is drolly substandard when compared to the vast lineages of any elven clan. Still, I do find the recounting of the family to be quite entertaining and oddly complete, despite the fact the majority of their accounts have no substantial proof to add validity to any claims made; thus, I shall be recounting them as fable as much as truth.

Cullachs have always held Homenil; if they have not, there are no surviving records to contest this. Homenil itself is a rather unremarkable town. It's not the town's size or age but rather the location that makes it relevant at all. Situated on the only accessible Serellian border of their Lorellian neighbors. With only one active port on Serellia's entire eastern coast, Homenil is the sentinel for the country's eastern half. The Cullachs have long played the role of ambassadors and mediators between Serellia and Lorellian nobles and traders. So, it comes as no surprise that the family has roots in both countries.

And as one can imagine, Lorellians have long hated the Cullachs' muddied bloodline and their audacity to wedge themselves into Lorellian politics as if they rightfully belong there. In fact, I'd find it all too easy to believe that it was by some Lorellian noble's grand design that the Cullach family fell into ruin; if it were not for the stunning lack of evidence to support the theory.

No, the Cullachs' fall, it would seem, is an astounding example of bad luck and even worse karma. A theme that would follow Bhalthier throughout his life.

It started with a wedding. Bhalthier's father took a Lorellian bride right from Recheston's ruling family. The outrage, of course, was mostly one-sided. The girl was disowned by her family, but I doubt she felt much more than a slight pinch of the blow that her disownment was intended to be. She was now married to one of the wealthiest and most influential men in Serellia, far from her family's reach.

Fate, however, is cruel and favors irony, from my extended experience.

Bhalthier's father was not a kind man. He may have been Serellian by blood, but when it came to principles and morals, he was almost entirely Lorellian. As the years passed, and his new wife became just his wife and had not borne him a single heir, the rift between them began to grow. She suspected that he'd taken a mistress, feared it, knowing she had no family left and nowhere that she could go. The poor thing became quite desperate, and this...well, this is where fable seems to overtake actual accounts.

It's clear that she had researched; gone to many places for help. First, reputable ones. But when their advice and capabilities failed her, she turned to the dark shadows of the world, and a year later, she was with child.

The pregnancy was difficult. She was sick constantly, and the marquis spent a small fortune to keep her and, more importantly, his heir alive. They only succeeded, however, in doing the latter. Whether intentional or not, she'd given her life to fulfill her husband's wish. If there was ever any question as to if she loved him, I would reference that simple fact.

Her unfortunate demise aside, the marquis had his son. A boy, no less, and for five years, he was happy once more until the fateful day when he suddenly sent Bhalthier away. Now, here is another point where facts are so scarce that fables become all I have to piece together the truth.

The story recounts that Bhalthier died and was buried, but rose from the dead eleven years later, to return when his father had a major revolt on his hands. Several accounts of Bhalthier's odd behavior and pale skin mention him looking unwell; compare him to a creature most abhorrent to Serellians—a vampire.

Indeed, Bhalthier's return was ill-timed and not enough to save his father from a lifetime of hatred by his townsfolk. On a clouded night, the revolt breached the Cullach estate. They captured the marquis and hung him in the town square. The following night, they returned for Bhalthier and staked him out in a field, convinced that he was a vampire or some other manner of undead creature.

The sun rose, and Bhalthier did not burn as they believed he would. However, admitting that they may have been wrong about the marquis's son was not an attractive prospect. So they left him there. It was not until that evening that a footman's account asserts the Earl of Pinehaven arrived in response to the revolt, crediting the earl with the young lord's rescue.

I hardly find aspects of this story creditable. I'm quite well versed in the ability to raise the dead, and if there was another mage of my caliber in Serellia, I would most certainly know about it. However, while the ideas of the Cullachs having ties to the undead and vampires seem to be complete fiction, the prospect of magic is not.

While the Citadel of Magic is infuriatingly tight-lipped about their mages, I did come across a letter from Bhalthier, to his father, with the Citadel's seal on it. The date and contents of this single letter begin to paint the true picture of why Bhalthier was sent away so suddenly.

Perhaps, there is yet a mage of worth who still draws breath in Serellia...

***

Ardaik 6th - La'Trest, Lorellia

"Five days?!" the distress in the queen's voice was enough to make some of the guards and attendants around them flinch. She didn't seem to notice, though. Her puffy eyes were fixed on the young woman standing beside the king's chair in his personal dining hall.

Cristaldo sat rather hunched in his seat, his lunch untouched. He really should have been in bed, but the king refused. His expression barely pulled into a weak frown.

"Maybe six. Maybe four," the young woman stated, keeping her tone light and her face apologetic. "I'm afraid the nature of this hex is quite aggressive."

"Then heal him!" Lady Vivienne balked, standing and storming to the woman's side. "That's the reason you're here!"

The Citadel mage took a quick step backward from the queen. "I cannot, your majesty."

"Why?"

"I'm..." The mage swallowed. "I'm not capable, your majesty. No one at the embassy is. No one in Lorellia. The elf that hexed him...I suspect he was not a normal mage."

"Of course he wasn't! How many of your kind have the ability to command the dead to storm a city?" Vivienne questioned, sorrow boiling into anger.

"He looked like death," the king grumbled. His words sounded wet—gargled, almost—between his labored breaths.

"As you do now," his wife snapped. Her son was missing, and now she was being told her husband had less than a week to live. What had she done to be cursed with so much tragedy? Why wasn't the loss of her first child enough? Why wasn't almost losing Artus to that dreadful shipwreck enough?

The mage remained silent while the echoing sound of a door in the adjoining hall preceded the appearance of one of his captains.

"News...of Artus?" Cristaldo asked, overlapped with the queen stammering, "What news is there?" The king's gaze drifted to his wife. She was wringing her hands so tightly he feared she may break her own delicate fingers.

"We've not yet recovered a body that we can identify as his highness. Nor Sebastien, or the Serellian prince."

"Then they could be together?" There was a flare of desperate hope in the queen's tone as she turned toward the guard captain. "They could still be alive?"

While he seemed hesitant to agree, it was indeed a possibility. "The relic has yet to be found either," the captain added. "Possibly an encouraging sign."

Cristaldo let out a small, indignant huff. "...Encouraging," he echoed.

"Excuse me, my lord, your majesties," the Citadel mage said, venturing slightly closer once again, her attention focused on the captain. "But...did you say the Serellian prince?"

The captain raised a brow, his lips motionless until he received a nod of permission from the king. "Yes?"

"The Serellian prince..." One could quite easily see how hard the young woman seemed to be thinking as she brought a hand up to tap her fingertips against her lips. "I know it to be true that there is no mage in Lorellia capable of undoing what has been done to his majesty. However, there may be one near enough who could possibly help."

"Who?" both the queen and the captain questioned in unison.

The bark of a sound caused the Citadel mage to jump slightly. The apprehension on her face was now plain, which didn't sit well at all with any of the present company. "...Lord Cullach. Of Homenil."

"The marquis?!" The captain looked at the king and queen. "I've always known there was something unnerving about that man."

"You're saying that Bhalthier Cullach, the man who had direct dealings with everything involving our interactions with the north, is a mage?"

The young woman nodded.

"How do you know this?" Vivienne asked. The thought of Bhalthier Cullach alone was enough to send a chill across her arms. She'd met him once while visiting with Lady Evelyn, the Duchess of Recheston. Vivienne had been shocked to learn that Bhalthier was a cousin of Evelyn's.

He was a terribly unhealthy-looking man. Too lean for his height, and his skin appeared awfully grey beneath his eyes. When asked, Evelyn had blamed his appearance on the claim that he didn't sleep nearly as much as one should at night—something the duchess didn't seem to be concerned at all by. A tortured poet, Evelyn had added in a most blasé fashion, followed by a sentiment over always having wished that she'd inherited some form of artistic talent from their relatives.

Regardless, his presence had made Vivienne quite uncomfortable and far more apt to believe some of the rampant and far-reaching rumors about the marquis.

"He was still at the Citadel when I first arrived...training."

The captain crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You're certain it was him?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Absolutely."

"I've heard many things about the Cullachs but never that there was magic in their family," the captain stated.

The king and the captain exchanged silent words with each other before Cristaldo spoke. "My dear, see her out."

There was no further explanation to his command, nor would there be any reasoning with him. As reluctant as Vivienne was to leave Cristaldo's side, she knew that tone, and it wasn't her place to argue.

Once the queen and the Citadel mage had been escorted out of the room by guards and attendants, the king spoke again. "Do you believe the mage's claim to be true?"

"I don't see how it would benefit her to accuse the marquis falsely," the captain replied.

"Sebastien would say that the Citadel has its own agenda."

"I'm not an intellectual, your majesty."

"Well, Sebastien has never been fond of the Citadel's embassy being in La'Trest." Cristaldo shifted some, wincing with the movement. "Give me your thoughts, regardless."

"I'd more readily believe that if the marquis of Homenil is indeed involved in this, Cullach is acting in the interest of Serellia. I don't buy that the girl is trying to weave strings for the Citadel to pull in outing him. And if he is Citadel trained, he can legally practice, whether his status as a mage is public knowledge or not."

A grimace twitched onto the king's pale lips for a moment before he once again was able to mostly tolerate and mask the extent of his pain.

"It's difficult seeing you like this, your majesty."

Cristaldo looked surprised for only a moment before huffing. "It's difficult being like this...but you look like you have more to say."

"If the attack was a Serellian ploy, it is possible that their prince and the Serellian soldiers he had with him have absconded with his highness."

"They would be trying to take Artus north, then," Cristaldo said.

"Yes, your majesty. North, to either Wiverham and then through Homenil, or—"

"Directly to Homenil..."

The captain nodded. "It's purely speculation, but we could send word to Malton and Garesto. Have them deploy their fleets to scour the route between here and Serellia. We currently have no other leads as it stands."

"Have our docks been checked for the Serellian's boat?"

"Yes. It's still here, your majesty, though no longer seaworthy." It hadn't at all been difficult to spot while they were searching. The primitive-looking Serellian longboat stuck out like a sore thumb berthed amidst the larger, elegant Lorellian ships moored in the bay. "The effort to clear the docks of all of the floundered ships will take days."

"Find more civilians to put to the task. I'll grant a temporary tax break to them or their employers if they assist for more than twelve hours..."

"That should certainly aid the cleanup, your majesty."

"So they'll be aboard one of ours if they aren't traveling by land," Cristaldo mused, his mind tracing routes from maps long since memorized. "And if they're fleeing back to their country by land, they likely left La'Trest heading west."

Again, the captain nodded. "Turning north once they cross the low point of the mountains and passing near Recheston. Possibly even through it."

"Then through Boreven to Homenil," Cristaldo once again finished.

"Yes, your majesty. Though I favor the theory that they travel by sea."

The king raised a brow, straightening a bit. "Why is that?"

"I was told we have a few fleet ships that are not yet accounted for, and if I were to be tasked with transporting a prisoner, by boat sounds far easier. If a man escapes you from a horse or somehow slips from a wagon, he could easily just run," the captain reasoned. "But on a ship, there'd be nowhere to go."

Nodding, Cristaldo mulled over the captain's words for a little longer before speaking. "Have the admiral notified that I want all of the fleet commanders to be on the lookout for our missing ships. They're to be ordered as soon as possible to stop and search any ship they come across on a northern heading."

"I'll see it done, your majesty," the captain said before rushing forward to aid the king as the man tried to stand.

"I also...ugh...want a scouting party sent immediately to search the route from here to Recheston."

"I'll see the order given myself."

"Good," Cristaldo hissed. His searing muscles screamed in protest to every movement. He took a shaky breath, steadying himself with the assistance of the captain and the other guard that came to his other side. "Now, help me to my office."

"Are you sure you shouldn't rest, your majesty?" The captain's question was met with a look of pure resentment.

"My office," he insisted firmly. "I have a letter to write to a certain greasy marquis."

"So you do intend to seek his help?"

The king paused in his assisted shambling. "I don't like the man; I don't trust him, but as you said, our speculations are just that. An idea for where to begin to search for my son and my advisor. Even if we find them where we proposed, the Serellians may have no involvement. We have no proof that Cullach is connected to the mage that attacked me."

"You'll request his urgent aid, then?"

"Yes—but not for myself."

The captain's brow creased in concern. "Your majesty?"

"Even if Cullach is the most gifted mage in the world, there's not enough time to get word to him and for him to travel here," Cristaldo explained.

"Then...what help could he be?"

"Cullach could send word to Tulot. We were attacked by a mage with a dragon, and there is still undead lingering. Since that mage fancied himself the new king of Lorellia, I don't doubt he'll be back once I've expired."

"Your majesty..."

"Serellia has dragons of their own. They may be our only chance of holding La'Trest. Until we hear from Serellia or find evidence supporting, I want none of our speculation and talk of kidnapping to reach Vivienne's ears. And as far as she'd concerned, we're reaching out to the marquis for a cure for me."

"Yes, your majesty."

"If we don't receive word back before I pass, I need her to be cooperative with the Serellians for the sake of the country. If she even hears a whisper of the idea that the north may be responsible for the attack or for Artus being missing, they'll be no reasoning with her."

"Understood."