Ch.6 Forbidden Malum Fruits III

The grand throne room.

At the farthest end, upon the elevated dais, sat a throne, a construct of infinite divinity and absolute will.

Beneath this sovereign seat, four figures knelt in formation.

Silent reverence beneath the crushing authority.

Before them, on a polished wooden table, lay five cushions. Upon each cushion, an apple.

Five apples. Five judgments.

First apple, entirely, utterly red.

Second apple, a red wound at the bottom but full black

Third apple, half black, half red. A perfect divide.

Fourth apple, hint of red at the base, a small layer of black above it but mostly green.

Fifth apple, hint of red at the base, a small layer of black above it but mostly teal.

A puzzle presented without explanation. A test without rules. A riddle without an answer.

At the throne’s summit sat Lord Croxeus. His golden eyes burned, their light reflected against his pure-white lashes.

His face remained impassive, a forever mask of indifference.

He began, “knowledge was not sought as refuge from ignorance. It was seized to defy it, to break it, to conquer it, to wield it like fire against the dark. But all fire does is consume. And the hand that wields it is never spared.”

Empty words, but—

The words carried weight. Not because of their meaning, but because they were spoken here, in this place, from that throne.

Truth mattered less than the one who dictated it. In the presence of an absolute force, even the absurd was profound.

Before him, the four mortals remained still. Not a single breath dared disturb the space between his decree and their response.

Croxeus continued.

“Five paths lie before you.” His eyes turned towards the apples, slow, deliberate. “Yet they are not paths, only illusions.”

His eyes fell upon the first apple, red, vibrant, unmarred. “One feels, a slave to warmth, yet empty inside.”

The second apple, black swallowing red. “One is what is unseen, yet it does not question, only obeys.”

The third, divided perfectly between halves. “One is the moment before choice, two fates dancing, yet neither stepping forward.”

The fourth, layered in multiple colours, red buried beneath black, topped with teal. “One shapes but knows not what it creates.”

And finally, the last. Identical to the fourth, but where green once was, now stood white. “And one… one believes it has made something real, yet all that is shaped is barren.”

Silence followed.

Lord Croxeus leaned back. “A hand reaches for the fruit, believing it is the one who chooses.”

His golden eyes swept over them. “But tell me, does the hand move first, or was it always meant to?”

He watched them. Watched the way their postures stiffened under the weight of the words while maintaining his expressions of absolute wisdom.

All despite internally wondering if he has just spoken complete nonsense. Okay...okay, they're thinking. That's good. That's good, right? No one will directly ask what the riddle means...right?

Perfect. Maintain the pose. Don't move...

Ard Barfi was the first to react, not in movement, but in the subtlest movement of his eyebrows. A calculation running its course behind those sharp lenses.

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he considered not just the question but the game it introduced. He believed every action has reason behind it, an intention.

A riddle, why now? He thought. What could be the reason or intent behind this play. Is this somehow related to mana?

The riddle itself was too vague, that is why he concluded that the answer had to lie in details.

He turned his thoughts to the colour of the apples. Five, each distinct. Not a random assortment.

A sequence. A pattern. A message.

A clue.

Tiya Bakhlovia, however, was unfazed. Indifferent. Her nihilistic eyes, devoid of curiosity. She was not one to be baited into engaging with meaning where none existed.

The hand moves, she thought. Whether by will or design, movement occurs.

The answer to the final question.

A flawless answer in its simplicity. Stripped of unnecessary complications. For all things, in the end, were merely cause and effect.

But of course, this was not the true answer. The real puzzle lay in the riddle before this, one that was related to apples.

Rex and Ronny stood in quiet bewilderment.

Ronny felt the urge to blurt something out.

Shapes but knows not what it creates... that’s literally my handwriting. Or my last three resumes.

He bit his tongue. This was not the time to joke, not in the presence of a god.

Rex on the other hand was lost in thought, trying to make sense out of the riddle. But then—

The silence was broken by a calm and confident answer.

“I think I have figured it out, my lord,” said Ard confidently while kneeling.

Lord Croxeus turned his eyes upon him. The sheer gravity of his attention felt crushing. “Is that so?”

“If I may stand,” said Ard steel kneeling.

“Yes, you may.”

Ard stood. His coat flared with the movement, a curtain parting before the grand performance. One hand lifted and the other pressed to his chest as if addressing an audience.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

He was a scientist, a philosopher. A man who had spent his life upon the stage, not just presenting theories but performing them.

He began his theatrics, “The first apple is entirely red. The second is ten percent red, the rest black. The third is an even fifty-fifty split. The fourth and fifth are identical in composition. Fifteen percent black, fifteen percent red, distinguished only by the dominance of one colour.”

Everyone listened to him carefully, especially Lord Croxeus.

He himself did not know why the apples were of different colours so he paid attention to find the clues.

Tiya, who had thus far been silent, tilted her head. Her expression slightly shifted as if piecing things together.

“These align perfectly with the stages of magic," Ard continued. “Each apple reflects a threshold, an evolution. The first corresponds to stage one, the manipulation of temperature. The second, stage two, the forces fundamental to existence. The third, the synthesis of both. The fourth and fifth, both belong to the creation. They only diverge at their final purpose. One begets life. The other, lifeless matter.”

A pause. Then he delivered the final blow.

“Your riddle confirms it, my lord. ‘One shapes but knows not what it creates. And one… one believes it has made something real, yet all that is shaped is barren.’ The apple that births the living is opposed to the apple that creates but does not give life.”

The room held its breath.

Tiya’s eyes held something close to intrigue. The logic is sound.

Whereas Rex and Ronny had sensed something in Ard’s confidence. His conclusion. But they were just waiting for Lord Croxeus’ approval.

Croxeus nodded slowly. Not because he understood. But because nodding slowly looked wise.

Huh?

He had expected Ard to come up with some sort of solution, of course. That was the plan. That was the entire point of making the riddle in the first place but…

He didn’t understand parts of it. Most of it, actually.

Internally, Croxeus was grasping at straws. Wait. Is he... right? Or is he just being confident? Should I nod? No….what if it’s wrong?

But on the outside, he was indifferent and expressionless as ever. He had to be the Lord Croxeus and act like a god.

So, he chose the path of wisdom.

He adapted.

Then, with an air of absolute authority, he gave his final verdict.

“Yes, of course. As expected of you, Ard. Flawless reasoning. Truly... the breath of truth spoke through your words.”

Ard, ever the master of controlled theatrics, inclined his head. “It is nothing, my lord. I merely arranged the pieces. I only hope I have not disappointed you.”

“No, Ard,” Lord Croxeus intoned. “You have not.”

Croxeus raised a hand.

The motion was slight, but in the stillness of the throne room, it was akin to the shifting of tectonic plates.

“The hand moves,” he said, trying to sound mysterious.

He’d seen that line in a show once. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it felt... impactful.

“And so, it was always meant to. Each of you shall claim an apple…Make your choice. And with it, claim your power.”

Please don’t ask follow-up questions, he thought.

With a single gesture, he bid them rise. A command.

They obeyed.

The discussion began.

Rex was the first to break the silence. “Because you were the one to solve the riddle, you should be the one to make the choice first.”

There was no dissent. The weight of logic bore down upon the gathering, pressing them toward an inevitable conclusion.

Ard stepped forward. His steps echoed, each footfall a display. Theatrics were still there. With the fluid grace of an actor at the peak of his craft, he reached out and claimed the second apple, the one covered in darkness, save for the crimson bloom at its base.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Lord Croxeus spoke. “Just eat the apple, and the power shall be yours.”

A bow, a bite. The apple vanished, as if it had never existed.

But something had changed.

Ard’s body pulsed with an unfamiliar sensation. A surge, electric, shook him to his core. His heart stopped.

An instant of death.

An eternity compressed into a fraction of a second. And then, a beat. Life resumed, but he was no longer the same.

The power to manipulate the fundamental forces of nature now flowed within.

He returned to his place in silence. There was no need for words. Those who understood required no explanation.

Rex and Ronny turned toward Tiya. No words were exchanged, yet their intent was clear. She deserved her turn.

Tiya walked forward. No hesitation, no display. An executioner approaching the block bore more sentiment than she did now.

Ronny leaned towards Rex. “You ever think she was a serial killer in her past life?”

Tiya reached out, her pale fingers closing around the fourth apple. A glance to Lord Croxeus. A bow. A bite.

Creation, living matter.

Power stormed through her veins. A shift, a transformation beyond the mundane. Her pulse accelerated. Expressionless as ever, yet even she could not entirely conceal the tremor.

She stepped back. The moment passed.

Ronny found himself next, not by choice but by force. Rex had pushed him forward, and resistance felt like too much effort.

He shrugged, rolled his shoulders, and sauntered toward the table.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The choice was quick. No deliberation. The last apple, exactly what he wanted. He lifted it, a glance at Lord Croxeus, and dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Let’s get this over with.”

A bite. The fruit ceased to exist, gone.

Magic, raw and unbridled, thundered through him. It was intoxicating, exhilarating.

He strolled back.

Rex remained. The last among them.

He walked forward, but unlike the others, he paused. Consideration in his eyes. He had not decided beforehand. Now, faced with the choice, he allowed himself a moment to think.

Then, with silent resolution, he reached out and took the first apple, the one that gleamed red like freshly spilled blood.

A bite. A pause.

The shift was immediate.

Temperature, the very foundation of existence, the fundamental transfer of energy, now rested in the palm of his hand.

He stepped back.

They stood before their sovereign now, aligned in silent reverence. No words needed to be spoken.

Before them, upon his throne, sat Lord Croxeus.

Unchanging, eternal, divine.

And the hand moved.

“Very well.”

His voice resonated through the chamber. A decree wrapped in quiet finality.

All present bowed immediately. Forms a mosaic of unwavering devotion.

Lord Croxeus observed them in silence.

“Now you all may rest. I think it will take time for you to attune yourselves to these abilities,” he continued.

Ard spoke without hesitation, with reverence. “My Lord, if I may.”

Croxeus gave a nod, gesturing with a hand.

“What direction would you have us turn our focus toward?”

Excellent, Croxeus thought. They had received power, now, they needed a directive.

This was his opportunity to ensure their seamless integration into this world. A foothold was necessary. If he could send them forth, allow them to mingle and establish themselves, then the true plan could begin.

He could approach them under his alternate identity, Markus. He could befriend them, nurture bonds. Perhaps, in time, he could call them not just subjects, but companions, family even.

He allowed the illusion of omniscience to settle upon his countenance.

“Go forth. Establish yourselves. Make your presence known. Spread name through influence. Build something lasting, connections, alliances... a better world. Help those in need, guide them. In time you will understand why I said this.”

It sounded rehearsed. Mostly because it was. He had spent minutes before their arrival practicing, testing which phrasing made him sound more godlike.

The heavy sound of his trident striking the marble floor sealed the decree. To those before him, it was a divine proclamation. Absolute.

A light flitted across Ard’s lenses.

The words were simple, but their weight? Immense.

Spread his name, establish themselves.... Build alliances and a better world?

The meaning was clear.

Lord Croxeus had given them the decree to act as his first disciples, to lay the foundation of his dominion upon this world.

“Very well, my Lord. We your subjects, pledge our fidelity” Ard bowed deep with reverence.

One by one, the others followed suit and took their leave.

Croxeus watched their retreating figures, satisfied.

His plan had begun.

His alias would take shape, Markus would enter their lives, and in time, trust would be earned.

Yet, as fate says, he remained oblivious to a greater scheme unfurling.

The wheel had turned. And with it, destiny took its first step into the unknown.