Cillian sat in deep thought, thinking about the history of the Blackwells. After a few minutes, he shook his head, "No, it's not possible. If what you claim has been happening for eight hundred years, there would be two issues. One is that you can't hide it. The Blackwells marry outsiders. Someone would have said soemthing after so long. Secondly, even if blood magic can negate some of the effects of such extreme inbreeding, do you think it can make up for both the madness that comes with it and the frailness? One plague and the family risks being wiped out."
Tristan smiled and nodded, "It was just a hypothetical. Even I don't believe that they are capable of it, even with blood magic. Besides looking at who the Blackwells marry, it is obvious they circle around the same few houses that carry their blood, adding just enough outside blood to avoid major issues." Tristan sighed and looked to the rook, "They do what we do."
"You looked into the Blackwells' lineage?" Cillian asked in shock. Tristan felt his lips twitch, realising he had gotten so sucked into the conversation that he had let what he knew slip. It wasn't just Blackwells, out of boredom over their years, he had looked into all the major houses and his own, reading whatever documents were available.
"You could say that." Smiling, he chuckled. Cillian smiled, not pushing the question, and looked to the door, seeing Brandon walk in.
"We must leave now." Brandon looked to Tristan, "Forgive me for not joining you. I wished to, but duty took me away." Tristan fought the urge to roll his eyes and stood up, placing his hand on his chest and bowing towards the two as they left.
--------------
"What do you think?" Brandon asked, peeking down towards his son. Cillians' thin smile fell, his calm mismatched eyes dimming as he thought about his conversation.
"We spoke about King Frederic." Looking to his father, Cillian wondered about Tristan's arguments for sparing the Blackwells and what his father thought, aside from his belief that they should have been wiped out. "What do you think should have happened to the Blackwells during the Red Rebellion?"
"Exterminate them. Kill every one of them from the elderly to the babes and put an end to that disgusting bloodline and power." Brandon said, with a rare venom, fiddling with his monocle afterwards to calm himself, "Forgive me."
"But do you think it was realistic?" Cillian asked, ignoring his father's slight outburst.
"Yes. If the history we have is correct, it would have been. The Lord of the Judicary and his vassals would have assisted. Added to the fact that the Blackwells were already on the verge of extinction, it wouldn't have been hard." Cillian took a deep breath.
"Then why didn't Frederic? In your opinion?" Brandon fell silent for a moment.
"Ordering the murder of children will always stain a king's reign, even if they come from such a revolting family." He paused and thought more deeply about the question: "There is also the chance he may not have been able to carry out such an order as a person. But that is a guess. Politically, it would have made Frederic's way of dealing with the favours he owed impossible. The fact that he showed mercy to people who rose up against him showed he could be both trusted to be fair and merciful when necessary, but also it made clear to all that he was a person whom the Great Lord could trust to one day not to stab them in the back out of ambition for is families monoply on power."
Cillian nodded. "What did Tristan say?" Brandon asked, already knowing his son's belief on the matter. Cillian slowly retold everything Tristan said and watched as his father fell into thought, chuckling to himself when he finished. "He has a grand imagination, but he may not be entirely wrong. After the unification of Veston, such inbreeding, although not endorsed, was done. All the houses wanted a way to gain power over the Cosmatons, and we wanted to ensure our founders' power stayed strong. This was until the realities of what it did to the child came to light. After Maximilian, 'the cursed', died young, our family stopped it. Then, in the peace treaty with the Church after the War of the Creator, one of the terms made was the end of intermarrying siblings acorss the realm."
Cillian's eyes widened, not knowing such a history, and he rubbed his head, "For such a thing to occur." His tone was filled with disgust, but beneath that an intrigue to understand. "Did it work, however? Was the power in the bloodlines preserved?" Brandon shot his sons a glare before looking away, realising he was interested purely for academic reasons, not out of a stupid desire.
"Yes. That is the worst part." Brandon said with a cold tone, "But it was a trade-off. The power in ours and the Great Lord's blood stayed strong. In exchange, children were either frail, dim or born stillborn. Maxamillian was the culmination of this." Brandon let out a deep sigh and shook his head, "What's the point in having the founders' power if the person wielding it can't even eat on their own? How can someone lead wars when a sudden change in weather could see them dying? " Brandon took a deep breath. "The first generation that came from such practices was fine; the second showed danger signs, but some could still rule. By the third, however, if left as it was going, it threatened the houses naturally dying off."
Cillian nodded and went to speak again, being cut off by his father's raised hand, "Enough on this topic. Whilst interesting, it is irrelevant. The dangers are clear, and such a practice doesn't need to be brought back. Just remember that when you marry, if it is one of your cousins, it will be fine, but their children must be married outside the family, or it will be an issue."
Cillain nodded and watched as his father sped up, looking like a lizard on ice, leaving him behind. Looking to the ground, he thought about what his father said and about Tristan's words about the Blackweels and couldn't help but frown.
'Blood Magic is different, though, Father. If it's their power, they might be able to make such a thing work.' The thought terrified him. It was obvious to all that the power in their blood dwindled with each generation. From a time when the Cosmatons could have multiple summons tied to them, it had now become one. With enough time, the power was likely to fade, only existing in those who were carefully married to ensure it existed.
'If that happens, what do we have anymore. The Magi and the Church could suppress us. All that would remain is the armies of lords we can't completely trust, hoping they fight for us.' Cillian raised his head and watched his father in the distance, 'Why is no one preparing for such a time. Is the trust in our power that strong, or am I missing soemthing? Will we always have these powers no matter how thin the blood gets?'
Shaking his head, he knew that wasn't true. Ancient branches of his family existed that could legitimately trace their lineage to the first king. In some of those houses, the power had already vanished.