Chapter Text
If there was ever a man more wretched and pitiable than him in that moment, Gunter Laufrey did not care to meet the son of a bitch. Hands shackled behind his back, clothes torn, body chilled and soaked to the bone - Gunter struggled to find a reason for all of this. He was the captain of the Stahlritter, a lord with lands of his own, a close friend of the king; yet in the dead of night, the king’s Nachtspion had come for him. That wasn’t enough either - his beloved Marta, and his flesh and blood Edwin had been taken as well - held in some godsforsaken place where he could not see or sense them.
He’d tried to deny it to his men, his people, his wife - and most importantly - himself, but it seemed that the rumors were true. The king had lost himself to madness. Many things had happened in the past five years that would have killed a lesser man immediately. Garon was not a lesser man, however. Having been friends since birth, the two men knew each other better than anyone else. Gunter knew how the pain dug so deeply into a man as formidable as Garon made himself to seem. Each event created a crack in his defense, which in his haste to remain stalwart, meant the king was susceptible to outside interference.
That damned mage from gods know where, Iago. Gunter found himself spitting at the ground at the thought of such a damnable man, who seemed to wedge himself between Gunter and the king. He knew this emptiness, this depravity, was not all caused by one man’s grief alone.
The room he was in, Gunter knew, was the Nachtspion’s personal holding cells within Castle Krakenburg. As a separate, shadowy group, they had operations outside of his authority - outside of the main army’s authority as well. Few knew about how they operated, yet Gunter was privy to such inside knowledge though years of remaining as Garon’s right hand. However, all that seemed to be changing - and it didn’t take the earlier events of the night to set him off.
The door to the holding cell opened up, and with it came the face of the man Gunter detested to the very core. Iago smiled at him with a look like a predator who was preparing his meal. As he took steps closer to the knight, Gunter’s expression involuntarily morphed into one of warning and anger.
“My, my - you dogs just don’t seem to know when to back off. You’re in my territory now, pup.” Long, spindly fingers grazed the bottom of Gunter’s ear, trailing down to his chin. It was almost intimate in nature, the way the mage leaned in close. The moment was quickly cut short when -
“Pptht!” Gunter spat in the face of Iago, a mixture of spit and blood ran down his cheek. For a man who seemed so smugly unflappable, Iago’s expression quickly morphed into pure rage. Grabbing Gunter’s hair, Iago shoved him into the hard stone floor.
“You cur! Fucking godsdamned son of a whore!” Gunter wanted to laugh at the rather foul language of a man who tried so hard to appeal to the king. He didn’t, though - choosing instead to simply grin despite the growing pain and flowing blood from his now-broken nose.
“If his highness didn’t want you alive, let it be known I would have killed you without hesitation.” Iago’s voice dripped with venom, and the smile never fell from Gunter’s face as the mage forced him to his feet.
“How unpleasant for you then.” Was all he said in response as Iago pulled him down the hallway, heading towards the throne room of the Nohrian King, Garon. Never an ostentatious man, his dear friend the king’s throne room was rather simple in design save for one thing. A massive stone pillar behind the throne, carved in elegantly cruel detail. It was a monument to the Dusk Dragon, a patron deity of the Nohrian throne, and one of several for the continent, though only two remained in popular worship today. Garon looked the most intimidating when he sat in front of such a thing, cloaked in the deep violet furs and bearing the thorn-like royal crown.
On Gunter’s approach to the foot of the throne, Garon seemed to sit up a bit in his chair - noticing the very state of his close friend. Gunter’s face contorted into something half-pain and half-contempt at the thought of the man being concerned. If he had been truly concerned, he wouldn’t have ordered the Nachtspion to steal him and his family from their home - he wouldn’t have ignored him the past year and a half in favor of some unknown mage. As if knowing his thoughts, Iago threw Gunter to the ground, a groan of pain sprouting involuntarily from the man’s mouth on impact. Garon stepped down from his throne and moved to the side of his friend however-
“I brought him just like you asked, my liege. He is the last of them.” Iago’s words seemed to put a pause into his movements, with the Nohrian king sitting back down on the throne instead. Iago’s mention of him being the last repeated in Gunter’s mind endlessly.
“The Stahlritter?” Gunter questioned aloud, fear icing his veins as though he fought one on one with a member of the ice tribe. In response to this, Iago only scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“What else? You are rather single-mindedly devoted to them.” Before the mage could say anything further, Garon raised a hand for him to stop. That seemed to be enough to shut the man up, thankfully.
“Leave us, Iago. Given the personal nature of what I offer, I would prefer this conversation to be private. That means you as well.” Gunter could see Garon’s dead-on stare that bored into the mage’s soul. Thankfully, however annoying, he wasn’t an idiot and Iago ran out of the throne room quickly. Alone, Garon was able to let out a long and weary sigh as he stood up from his throne. A quick snap of the fingers later, and the shackles were off of Gunter’s arms and legs, allowing the man full use of his limbs. He wasn’t quite at ease however and shot Garon a weary look as he rubbed at the red marks on his wrists.
“What is the meaning of this? Garon, what happened to the Stahlritter? Why were my family and I kidnapped?” Only Gunter dared to use such casual language with the king, whose tired expression offered no hint of remorse or ignorance.
“My apologies, friend. It was the only way I could reliably get a hold on you quickly… and -” Garon paused, a crease of pain hitting his brow as the man seemed to ponder where to go next. “I’m sorry. I have no other choice in this matter. I must dissolve the Stahlritter at once.” The world seemed to fall out from beneath Gunter’s feet in that moment. Falling to his knees as his head spun with pain and confusion, Gunter looked to his friend.
“What- what do you mean, dissolve? We’ve served the crown for centuries! How- why didn’t you discuss this with me?” Gunter’s chest tightened and his stomach dropped, eyes searching for an answer on Garon’s face where there was none. Garon even turned his back to him, the king with grey-streaked blonde hair and a wide back taking his place back on the throne. His expression hardened, eyes now devoid of shine like two deep pools of ichor and shadow.
“The age of magic has come to Nohr. Even now, we have developed creatures more powerful than entire militias, capable of being puppeted by single men, and not requiring any resources at all. While I need to maintain the main army force, we are no longer in need of the Stahlritter.” Garon’s fingers knitted together as he leaned forward on the throne. Now to his feet, Gunter struggled to find acceptance in the revelation. Where he found none, he sought accusation instead.
“Did Iago put you up to this? Garon - that man is dangerous! I cannot believe you’ve kept him around this long. He has to be responsible for Kat-”
“SILENCE!” Garon roared, leaping to his feet at the mere thought of Iago being involved in Katerina’s death. “You will not speak her name with such poison. Iago did what he could to save her! Did what he could to protect my daughter. He has nothing to do with my decision, and it would do you wise to watch what comes out of your mouth next.” Gunter simply bowed his head, having all of the confirmation he needed. Even if Garon would not admit so directly, where each crack formed - Iago had been present to smooth it out. Only an ignorant fool with his brain scooped out would not be able to make the connection. Garon was being manipulated into madness.
“Forgive me, your highness.” Gunter spoke, now kneeling in the traditional way - hoping it would not incur any more wrath from his friend. Garon huffed, but sat back down.
“I brought you here to offer you a boon as penance for this rather abrupt dissolution of the Stahlritter. What Iago meant earlier was you were the final one I contacted. If you had been the first, I was worried you might have tried something to stop me.” Gunter was biting his tongue, not wanting to anger Garon any further - but the nail was hit straight on the head. “That, and I have another matter that was recently brought to my attention. The matter of the kidnapping of the late second queen’s daughter.”
Ah. For this, Gunter straightened his back and nodded. He knew this had to be brought up eventually. During his mission in Cyrkensia, the palace had erupted into terror. The Concubine Palace was in disarray, Arete had been killed, and Arete’s daughter Azura was kidnapped. Gunter had arrived too late on the scene, and had only been able to control the damage that was in the Concubine Palace.
However that wasn’t the end of it, as rather early on in the investigation intro Azura’s kidnapping and Arete’s death - it was discovered that the culprit had been a man with white hair and black roots. As far as men go, there was only one person who resided within Castle Krakenburg who’d fit the bill. Shura; Gunter’s old apprentice. An archer from the ruined nation of Kogha, Shura did his best to keep to himself. Or, so Gunter thought. With the kidnapping of Azura being tied to a man that was no longer anywhere present in Nohr - Gunter knew it was up to him to be responsible.
“Yes. I can see now why you kept this matter from me. I will accept any punishment you have.” Gunter’s words were solid, and he held his own hands behind his back with a formidable stance. Garon simply shook his head, and waved his right hand as if some gnat was flying around.
“That will not be necessary. It was because of that investigation that we decided to dissolve the Stahlritter. What I offer you is this - I need you to remain by my side. Your strength and skill in battler is invaluable to me, Gunter. I urge you to join the Nachtspion, and train them with your strength and strategy. That way you won’t have to return to the north, and I can continue to heed your council.” Gunter froze at Garon’s request. Work with Iago? There was no way in hell he was doing anything of the sort - nor was he training the men that very well replaced him and his men in usefulness.
“You can’t ask that of me, Garon. I can’t just work alongside a man I loathe and train the very people who replaced my good men.” His head hung low, salt and peppered black hair falling all around his shoulders with the stench of stagnant rainwater. When Gunter met Garon’s eyes, he knew he wasn’t expecting kindness - but Gunter was surprised to see a near fury-like rage.
“Are you denying my kindness? I could have you killed for what your subordinate did, but instead I’m offering you a way to stay by my side. Does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Garon gritted his teeth in anger, descending the stairs to come face to face with Gunter. Fury met confusion, with the taller knight taking a step back as he shook his head.
“Our friendship means everything to me, you know that. However, I cannot accept your offer. Garon, I simply won’t do this.” The expression on his friend’s face seemed to slack into pure emptiness at Gunter’s words. The king sighed and nodded, muttering simply that he understood. With a raise of a hand, Garon snapped his fingers and the doors to the throne room opened behind Gunter. He turned to look behind him, terror now coursing through his veins as the old knight witnessed his Marta and Edwin being dragged in by guards, with Iago at the center.
When he turned back to question Garon as to what the hell was going on, the man was already back at his throne, his face still empty and devoid of any emotion. Marta tried to reach out to Gunter, only for the sound of an electric shock and her screams of pain to follow instead. Edwin, witnessing what happened to his mother - attempted to bite away the cry that wanted to force its way out, with tears streaming down his cheeks instead.
Iago simply stepped beside Gunter and forced him down to his knees with a swift and painful kick.
“You should have taken his offer, mutt. Bad dogs must be put down, you know that.” The mage whispered into his ear, caressing Gunter’s face the same way he had done so earlier, only this time the old knight could not move. Iago had placed a spell to prevent him from moving even an inch - whatever was being planned for him… Garon wanted to make him watch. Iago made his way to the side of the king, where he looked down upon Gunter with that same smile from earlier - only this time there would be no rebuttal from the old knight.
“It is not enough that your subordinate kidnapped my deceased wife’s child, but you and your Stahlritter are refusing to back down when I am asking kindly. Now you refuse my kindness, spitting in the face of a lifelong friendship. I should have you killed.” Garon’s voice boomed over the entire room, only worsening the feeling that had grown within Gunter since his entrance. Darkness seemed to spill around him, pooling and tainting the throne - the entire room. Gunter couldn’t see his wife, nor his son - but surely they were equally, if not more terrified than he was. “I will not.” Though the words would normally give anyone a reason to sigh in relief, Gunter knew Garon well - and knew that his mercy was not just and kind.
“Since I am merciful, I will return you to the north. But I will strip you of your lands and your title. Not only that, you must return to the north alone.” Alone. Alone. That damned word by itself filled Gunter’s throat with a painful lump, his eyes watering as he struggled against the immobilization spell. Garon motioned to Iago, “Bring the two of them forward.” He spoke before showing a hollow yet somber look to his former friend. “I am truly sorry, but you know that my mercy is not kind. Know that this causes me true pain, friend.”
No! Gunter screamed inside his head as Marta and Edwin were dragged forward, and turned to face him. He knew what was coming and he so desperately wanted to look away - to shield himself from this - but he couldn’t. Garon raised his hands slowly and deliberately, and as he did so flames began to rise in a circle around Gunter’s wife and son. As the flames grew taller, they grew brighter and hotter - and Gunter’s entire being was screaming out in terror and anguish as his wife and son cried and screamed. Forced to watch them being eaten alive by the flames until all of the life drained from their bodies, with only two charred corpses and the distinct smell of burning flesh being all that was left behind. Gunter would see this in his mind for years to come, in his nightmares and in moments of extreme loneliness. However, there was one final part to his punishment that would not come until weeks into his exile at the northern fortress.