Harold awoke to a knock at his door.
Even though he felt like screaming at the furious knocks coming from the steel-framed, Harold held himself back. He was a general now. He needed to stop being so tempermental with the servants. Even though they made Harold want to crack their skull with a-
Harold realized he was in his bed.
With a woman.
Harold jumped out of bed, careful not to touch the nameless woman. He quickly got dressed, once he realized he was naked, and walked to the door. Harold took another look at the unknown woman with blonde hair. She had a face that looked as if it could melt a man. But... there was a hardness in that soft face. It looked as if this woman had some sort of past with violence.
Harold was about to answer the insistent knocking at his door, when he noticed a knife next to his desk. It looked oddly familiar, but Harold couldn't place an origin. Was it from the High-
Harold suffered his second shock.
He remembered the night before. He remembered the blonde woman, rushing toward him with a knife, the ecstacy at seeing her face, her sitting on him with that knife in hand, and lastly, the throws of passion that had lasted for hours on end.
Harolds face went white.
The dress on the floor was on for one of the High Virgins. Harold, curiosity overriding his cautious nature, walked over to the bed and pulled the covers off the woman. Despite his want to gaze at her naked form, he looked for the evidence. He found it after a moment.
Under the woman's left hip was a small spot of blood.
This High Virgin was a Virgin no more.
Harold carefully covered the woman up, staring at her flawless body despite his head telling him to escape, and walked back toward the door. He was in trouble, Harold knew it. He had done something unforgivable. He would be executed. No, he would be tortured!
'No!' Harold thought ferociously, his hand now clasped on the door. 'I will fix this, somehow.'
Harold cracked the door, interrupting the knocking, and peeked out to see a servant boy. "What is it, Kei?"
The servant jumped slightly, but regained his mechanical expression. "The King wishes to speak with you."
"Dammit," Harold muttered.
A few moments later, Harold met with General Frinth and the King, who both stood on one of the castle's many walls. The king turned as Harold walked up, his grey hair swaying in the wind. Harold had to look up even at a far distance with how tall the King was. It was almost unnatural. Beside him, General Frinth just grunted and rubbed his shaved head. For some reason, he had his sword out and his heavy plated armor on.
"My liege," Harold said with a bow once he reached the men's position.
The king didn't laugh like he usually did. "Rise, General Gensin," He said in his aging voice, once again reminding Harold of his old age. "Look over the edge."
Harold rose and did as he was told. Below, he saw the crumpled corpse of an elderly man in the kitchen staff's clothing. There was something... wrong about the way the body lay. The body was curled backwards, making a full circle. In the middle was a burnt patch of grass.
"This," Harold said, remembering the old texts he had read, "Is the Alteration Ritual from the Warlock's Ritual Book." He realized why the King had brought him, then.
Harold was the only one in the kingdom who had killed a Warlock.