The roar of laughter drifted through the crisp, cold air. Ulfar trudged through the snow drift towards the tavern. Passing a frozen puddle, he looked at his reflection. His dark eyes stared back at him, framed by his mane-like hair. He noticed the red stain around his mouth, and he washed his face with some melted snow. Looking up at the darkening sky, he tried to remember the battle. He recalled accompanying Haraldur and his warband of Huscarls to the village of Kodradfief. His recollections also went as far as the Graelings lining up against the Vargs. The jeers and shouts had echoed along the valley, both armies chanting madly, running along to the savage beat of pounding war drums. Then his memory failed.

His last vision had been a huge Ymirish giant wielding a brutal two-handed axe. He stopped his reverie and decided to find out what had happened next. The mead hall was full, the clan celebrating the day's victory and the expectation of tomorrow's start of preparations for their raiding into the rich Southlands was evident. In the corner two Berserkers were engaged in a head-butting contest. They squared off a few paces apart, heads bowed down. Then, as a comrade shouted to start, they charged headlong at each other, their skulls clashing with an audible thud. The man who remains conscious the longest is deemed the winner, and contests could last for hours.

Shouting for a jar of mead, Ulfar strode across the dimly lit hall to Haraldur and his fellow Huscarls. They were engaged in a loud game of knuckle-throwing, and a large pile of treasure was laid in the middle of the table as a bet. As Jarlik tossed the rune-inscribed knuckle bones against the far wall, Haraldur noticed Ulfar's approach.

"By Olric's beard Ulfar, you look worse than I will tomorrow morning! Anyone would think you'd had to fight those snivelling Vargest by yourself."

Ulfar sat down on the long bench beside the table and grinned wolfishly.

"I probably did! Seriously though lad, how did I fare against the scum?"

Haraldur settled back, obviously preparing to recount an epic speech. He was well known for his skills with words as well as the mighty axe he wielded in battle.

"The Wolfclaws set out with the dark of night, their hearts full of rage at the thought of the hated vargs on their lands. With Fenris Fang and Mordins Shield they marched to war..."

"I know what we damn well did lad, just tell me how many of the Vargs I killed!"

"Some people just don't appreciate tradition. You have to do things the proper way, otherwise, you lose the whole feel of the baule."

"Look lad, I was killing people when your father was learning which end of a sword was the sharp bit, so shut up about tradition. If you don't tell me how many of the scum I killed I'm going to bite your damned head off!"

"Don't think you can scare me! My Huscarls killed forty Vargs, and then we cut down a handful of Trolls. But that wasn't all, we also scared off their chieftain, just by looking at him! You started on the Ice Giant, damned near pulled his arm off and choked him with the wet end! Then you bit the faces off a few Trolls, but they didn't seem to notice too much. After that it was all getting a bit hectic. I saw you chasing after some Vargs on large pigs, and then you were lost in the crowd."

"See lad, that wasn't too difficult for you was it!"

Ulfar wandered off to find somebody else to tell him how he had fared against the boar riders. He spied Frund the Dwarf - named so due to his short height more than anything- by the fireplace, arguing with another. He walked over to them and slapped Frund heartily on the back, almost knocking him over. The little man turned round, frowning murderously. His expression eased when he saw Ulfar standing behind him.

"Ah. Ulfar, just the person to see. My cousin Snorri is from Araz’ark in the Northern Ridge mountains by the Empire. He says its biologically inviable for a human to turn into a wolf, and I think you could prove him wrong."

"Say that again shorty, it sounded like gibberish to me, and if it was an insult you better start running!"

"My cousin Snorri here reckons that you can't turn into a wolf." Frund's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. "He's also wagered a silver inlaid scabbard and a gold drinking horn on the matter. We might be able to split the loot up somehow..."

Ulfar turned on the stranger and bent down to growl in his ear.

"Can't go wolf, eh? I hope you believe the evidence of your own eyes."

Ulfar began breathing deeply, and closed his eyes. He felt the taint roaring through his veins. His heart hammered in his chest and his skin tingled and itched. He felt the hairs pushing through the pores of his flesh, and he tasted the blood in his mouth from his fangs ripping through his aching gums. Letting out a howl of triumph and rage, he opened his eyes. The red haze was there, tinging the edges of his vision. He could smell the sheer terror of the now small form standing in front of him. His ears picked up the faintest sounds; the heavy breathing of the tavern's occupants, the whistle of the wind outside the thick wooden walls. A surge of energy rushed through his body, and he felt like pouncing on the hapless man.

He felt his own blood trickling down the long claws that now tipped his elongated fingers. His muscles were swollen and adrenaline flowed throughout his system. The body was in prime condition, despite his human age, and he knew what it was like to be immortal. The call of the night hammered away at the back of his mind, constantly trying to seduce him. He wished to break down the doors and race off on the hunt. Applying his willpower Ulfar managed to control the animal emotions raging through his mind. He adapted his form again, allowing himself to talk more easily, though he knew from experience that to others his voice would sound slurred and basic.

"You take scabbard. And I’ll drink from goblet!"



The meeting with his sister went about as well as he could have hoped. Ralltene Valaerin knew today’s affairs had only just begun. The High Houses had yet to all arrive at the Imperial Palace. Which meant there was precious little time to waste. Traditionally the members of the Prime Estates had some sway in the voting of the next Emperor when reporting to their Arch Electors. As they trusted their eyes and ears in the Capital city of Lalrial. Getting the backing of a few early could be a notable boon to his chances. Of course he could not overlook the important vote of the Arch Dawnbringer. However, until the Elder Council had decided on their new representative for the Church of the Sacred Flame. He would find better success with the prime estates.

First he needed to check on Victoria, his wife and future Empress if fortune favored him, before planning their opening moves. Ralltene had the connections and name, but he would admit when it came to the realm of politics both his sister and wife easily held more experience than himself. He arrived in the halls of the Palaces eastern wing where the Duchess’s room had been prepared. He rapped the door to announce himself before entering.

Victoria opened the door dressed in a light, purple-tinted nightgown, a quill and a partially written letter in her spare hand. She beckoned her husband inside and closed the door behind him, all wordlessly, before returning to her desk to continue writing. She was barely dressed, seemed somewhat tired, and her long, black hair was drawn up away from her face. Clearly, she had been relaxing in the room—or at least conducting some sort of business not particularly strenuous—for quite some time, and had had a busy day. After about a minute of continuing her writing, she decided to inquire to her husband about the day’s events. “You’ve been making rounds of the city, I trust? Charming a few Electors?”

Ralltene took note of the letter his wife wrote and the state of her attire, quickly gathering she herself was no doubt already working on that very front.

"I spent the morning futilely attempting to convince my older sister against placing her name forward in the election," He brushed his hand through his dark hair after taking a seat in a free chair near the desk across from his wife. "She said she would think on the matter- which is answer enough. I have learned at least that save yourself, there are no other Arch Electors within the capital. Which goes for my oldest brother as well who is still in the north last I heard.”

He allowed himself a small smile as he added, “Which gives us the chance to sway their prime estates. Consolidate support there and by the time the Arch electors arrive, they will have praises for one contender from the mouths of their own Prime Magistrates. My mind goes to Lady Marra. Jakinius trained within House Tallurian, if we can steal their support we could rob him of at least one vote. Assuming he runs of course. May as well prepare the ground just in case.” He paused a moment in thought while gauging his wife's thoughts on the plan.

The Duchess smirked and rolled her eyes, sparing her husband only a momentary glance before returning to her letter. “I would compliment you on the brilliance of your proposal, but I’m far too humble to ever compliment my own idea. I talked with Lady Marra earlier this evening. She seemed pliable, but perhaps excessively so. I’m afraid anyone else who might speak with her between now and when her sister arrives could sway her in another direction. Which is why I’m writing the Queen of Tellaria a letter, for her to receive the moment she arrives in Lalrial.”

As he had guessed his wife had not been idle, "a grand idea.” Ralltene admitted. “That leaves the other members of the Prime Magistrates to woo. I’ve sent out my contacts and agents to get a feel for where the votes might go so we will know where to focus our efforts.” Ralltene leaned back as he laced his fingers together looking at a window. “Given House Gracieux and House Starborn’s… history, I’ll talk to Victor or whoever he decides to send to represent his house. If we can get his support we’ll have a firm foothold in the east which will at least show a strong backing to the other houses..”

“Thankfully, in elections if not in war, geography is nearly irrelevant. We needn’t focus our efforts on kingdoms from any particular region of Ethica. With that in mind, my sister, Lady Zoe, has established a rapport with House Seval, of Aeche. They are likely to support us. My brother, Elouan, has also spent some time in Stormgully, the seat of House Cragmore, though to woo some Cragmore girl, not the King. Nonetheless, hopefully a family that destitute is eager to select an Emperor with a plan for economic growth in mind. The last thing the realm needs right now is for all of its able-bodied men to be given swords and marched north to impale themselves on a barbarian spear.”

Victoria finished writing her letter, then neatly folded it aside, placing her quill over top of it. She then stood from her chair and walked over to approach Ralltene from behind, placing her hands upon his shoulders. The kiss she then placed upon his neck seemed to convey an intent alternate to politics, but the words she whispered into his ear did not. “We should discuss, even if only for a moment, what our plans will be should our efforts come to nought and your brother becomes Emperor.”

Ralltene did not want to dwell on that prospect. He had not seen his brother in some odd five or so years but he knew his brothers manner and mind well enough to guess where he would want to take the realm. Victoria was not wrong in her summary of what might happen should Jakinius take the throne. He sighed, "Assuming that my brother wins this election. It would not be a difficult task to obtain a seat on the High Council. Perhaps with time curve his interest into one that would benefit the realm as a whole. The problem would- of course- lay in whether or not my brother listens to reason. He has ever been as stubborn as he was thick skulled.”

“I would not count my sister out, however, she has survived the politics of the capital for this long not without good reason. I would not be surprised if she managed to turn things around.”

The Duchess, and hopefully Empress-to-be, lingered her hold on her husband’s shoulders for a short while longer, listening to his breath and feeling his body relax slightly. Eventually, she trailed her fingertips over his forearms and off of him, then slid her lithe body into bed. She smiled, embroiled herself in the sheets, and gestured her husband to bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day, but there was no peace to the wicked.

Ralltene raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing as he joined his wife. Yes, the election to come would be a trying one he knew. Still the hardships could wait for a few candlemarks.

Lalaifia, the 6th of Gerna 1200 AU - 06.03.1200
An Argentum Safehouse, Lalaifia

"Tell us."
"Confess."
"Tell us everything."
"Confess your sins."
"Tell us who they are."
"If you are innocent you have nothing to fear."
"Nothing to fear from us."
"We are humble servants."
"Name the leaders."
"Confess."

Words with the beautiful dulcet tones of angels sounded in the woman's ears as her captors spoke, words that soothed and prodded in a litany of pressure, but delightful pressure. It would be so easy to give them what they wanted, to speak the names, to confess. But she didn't.

The pair of inquisitors frowned at each other across the woman's restrained and blindfolded body. Normally there would be no restraint with a suspected heretic from the hated Kawachia. But the Inquisitor Generals had ordered that the woman not be physically broken. There were other methods, and if their siren words and touch alone could not mold Daena Swiftwave's mind they would use them. But for now the litany began again and hands began their dance upon fair flesh, drawing forth sounds of pleasure as they applied their native magic once more.

"Confess."
"Tell us who the leaders are."
"Confess your sins."
"Where are the heretics?"
"Tell us everything"

---

In another room was a man tied up with his arms and legs stretched out to their fullest lengths. He was bound hand and foot to a set of pillars by tight chains. He body already showed signs of abuse, lash marks adorned his flesh along with burns and shallow cuts. Such scant mercy as the Inquisition had shown Daena Swiftwave wasn't being lavished upon her brother.

"Who do you worship?" The inquistor's musical voice rose to a frenzyingly high pitch as he yelled from behind the shroud that covered his face. But there was no answer. The golden robed Vaelie whipped out his hand in a casual motion, sending the golden lash of Vaelor forth to strike the infidel with a delightful crack. A thin line of crimson blood trickled from the broken skin and the man screamed.

"Who leads the heretics?"

The only answer came as the man spat in the inquisitor's direction. And then gracefully the lash cracked across the space again to deliver another searing bolt of pain.

And a new voice whispered into the man's ear. Her voice was delightful, like liquid warmth that soothed and caressed in ways that caused a stirring... "Just tell us and it will all stop. Give us the names and this will be over." But the man shook his head. Then he screamed as his skin tore again. A long thin blade sliced off a strip of flesh from his arm. Blood welled from the wound as the female vaelie dangled the strip of flesh in front of the man's face.

"I could make you eat it." She crooned in that voice again, "Make you love it, I could twist you up so much that you would welcome death as a release from depravity." And a lithe body pressed against his from behind as the hand dangling the strip of flesh stayed before his face. "Name a heretic, just start with one."

But the man did not cooperate and lashed his head back, striking the Vaelie in the face as she drew back with a startled hissing sound of displeasure. Her male counterpart cracked the whip again several times leaving new welts across the man's battered body and she walked around to stand before him.

She pulled aside the shroud the obscured her face, and stared into the man's eyes. Deep pools of molten gold grabbed at his mind as she smiled and lifted the flesh again. "Eat." She crooned in that silky voice that sent shudders through him even as his mouth opened unconsciously. Then he tasted himself and gagged but the eyes held him fast and he choked it down while the woman's smile only grew.

"To behold the suffering of the heretic is to be closest to the divine flame." This time it was the male who spoke as the whip cracked once more. And then he walked away, over towards a brazier where tools glowed red hot from the warmth.

Another scream as the knife sliced away another strip of flesh from the chest, rivulets of blood running down formerly chiseled muscles as the careful slices avoided causing real damage. "All you have to do is tell me a name, just one name." The silver skinned beauty crooned as she lifted the strip of bloody flesh to her own mouth and began to eat with obvious relish. "Is that so hard?" blood splattered a bit upon silver skin as she chewed. "What should I take next?"

But before she could go any farther the man finally broke. "The Viceroy... Viceroy Ryan Swiftwave. I swear it. Please, I swear. Stop, oh by the holy fire stop."

"You have confessed to knowing of a heretic. You have failed to report all signs of heresy to the Argentum. For that you shall burn. Vaelor and Vaela show no mercy." Both inquisitors spoke as one then and the screaming began again.

Perhaps she shouldn't have had so much wine earlier? But it was rude to refuse and Victoria had been oh so courteous, not like the drab and boring The crimson haired woman in the long red dress rubbed at her temples with her hands as a faint reddish light radiated from them. There were some things that even Tallurian gifts didn't work on, and the headaches were one of them. Sure she could temporarily banish them, but they just came back. Still a touch of the power would buy her enough time for the next meeting.

A family servant, dressed in the red and white of her house, one of the small retinue she had brought when she came to the city stepped into the room. “Milady, the Cragmore representative is here to speak with you.” Marra frowned, hadn't the actual Cragmores arrived in the city earlier today? Why would the representative be coming to speak with her instead? Victoria had made time to come in person.

“Send him in.” Marra said after a moment, and even though she knew better stretched out a slender alabaster arm to pick up one of the bottles of wine Victoria had gifted her, pouring herself another full glass. She was going to need it. Still she turned on the charm, her winning smile being firmly in place when the other representative entered the room.

"Ah, hello Lady Marra. How are you today?" James asked as he walked to the seat across from her.

"James," The response was less than warm, but also not frigid, the words of one carefully keeping a balance between the two. "I am well. What brings you to me today? I heard that Benjamin Cragmore arrived, I am surprised he did not come himself." After she finished she raised her glass, taking a long sip from it.

"Yes, well divide and conquer as they say. But I am here to speak about the election for the new Emperor or perhaps Empress position. Such as who would you guys be so inclined as to vote for?" James said as he took his seat.

"Come now James. You know I do not discuss that. It's truly dreadful how all the parties in town have just died since the Emperor passed. And all I ever hear is talk about who will succeed him." With a sigh that spoke of some degree of exasperation Marra began to rub at the sides of her head again. "It is not for me to say, I am a voice but not the one who makes the decisions."

"Agreed, but certainly our lords trust out opinions and suggestions for the next emperor. I do believe you would have much sway in the matter. So please do tell who would you suggest for emperor or empress?" James asked leaning back in the chair.

Crimson eyes locked upon the man's as Lady Marra sighed once more and raised her glass, draining what was left before finally speaking. "Perhaps the ex-emperor's favorite horse? I hear Glitterhoof is very popular." Her voice sharpened slightly at the end. Though there was something of a smile quirking up at the edges of her lips, as if she was enjoying her own wit.

James shook his head annoyance "Lady Marra if you aren't going to take this seriously then-" he clapped his hands in and a follower came in with a nice old brand of wine - "What am I to do with this, I know how much you love your drinks after all and this one was made my by brewery personnally." James smiled as the man set it down on the table "I do believe it's one of your favorites."

For a moment Lady Marra did seem to pause, and she looked at the bottle. But then she looked back at James. "I do not know what bothers me more, that you attempt to threaten and bribe me, or that you don't know the difference between a vineyard and a brewery." Her brows quirked upwards as a short laugh escaped.

James chuckled "Or perhaps this wine has something a tad stronger added to it, as I said just for you. I am not attempting to bribe you I just merely wish to see what you stand on the issue of the election so that I may better inform my lord. Just as you would do the same for yours." he leaned back in the chair and waited.

Normally Lady Marra was known for being cheerful and pleasant, a skilled socialite if not the most skilled at diplomacy, but today it seemed she had no patience for the jumped up former salt miner with delusions of grandeur and when she replied it was not with the answer James was looking for. "Get out, and take your wine with you." And then she waved a pale hand in a clear sign of dismissal.

James simply shrugged and stood up "How you wound me so my dear lady, but please keep the wine. It's the least I can give you for wasting your time." With that James walked away.

A large muscular man by the name of Rapdori Valarien watched silently, his beady silver eyes poking from a hairless head, as James Conrad sauntered away from Lady Mara's place of stay with a certain level of class in his step despite a sour look on his face.

"Ahoy!" Rapdori waved, a friendly smile breaking from his face as he remembered Conrad's afinity and love of boats.

James heard it and was suprised yet happy. He turned around and gave a small smile "Hello there Rapdori, how goes it?" James said trying not to seem annoyed or tired to the big man.

"Oh just alright!" Rapdori's voice almost sounded goofy as he jumped into the conversation, "Gowa just schooled my ass in a game of chesserwhatsitcalled, then I noticed you, and your wine, and you."

"Why the glum look, buddy?" Rapdori shook his head, breaking the corruption in his linear thought.

"It's just the election and all has everyone butts knotted up and I'm trying to make sense of it all. But at least I have you here to keep me excited and support me." James said as he walked toward the big fella. Who he considered a friend not only because he was dull-witted but also a true brute and seemed loyal enough.

"HEH! Yeah," Rapdori chuckled, "knotted butts are the worse. Do you want me to straighten Mara out real quick?"

The large man took a few confident steps towards the door, "I'll give her a talkin' too, waoh boy I will!"

James let out a laugh "Nah big guy it's alright. She's mostly drunk though that's not to say she isn't drunk at least half the time. So what have you been up too? Excited to see your cousins and all the festivies will all the big nobles coming in?" James asked

"I like the colors of the banners fine, but court life was never for me. I just hang out at the city garrison all day really," Rapdori answered honestly, "I'm not the quickest talker no how anyway. I am however, the strongest."

A twinkle sparked in Rapdori's eye as he flexed one of his mammoth arms, his viens popping over a boastful bicep.

James smiled "You are the strongest at least here. Perhaps you can show your skills off when other higher lords come to town or when your Cousin Prince Jakinius comes who's supposed to be just as strong." James said as he began walking down the halls motioning for Rapdori to follow him.

Rapdori followed faithfully, spewing spit as he "pffffffffftt"ed.

"Jakinius is not as strong, quick, thoughtful, a leader, skilled, yes... but my arms are at least double his," Rapdori pointed to his chest, his goofy voice deepening into one fueled by testosterone, "I could squash a Cragmore Goat in my pecs, little man."

"Er, sorry," Rapdori suddenly changed moods, "got a little carried away there."

"It's fine, just because the cragmore's are my lords doesn't mean I like them exactly. I do however like you big guy. You're the easiest man to talk to and so straight you could be shot like an arrow. Your family is rather large though unlike mine which does sometimes make me sad but then I look at your family's histroy and feel glad I'm not from such a big and rich family such as yours. Wouldn't you agree?" James said as they kept walking eventually reaching outside.

Rapdori scratched his head for a moment, "well, I don't know. I'm not you, James."

"No you aren't, though I'd rather be you. All strong and tough and well liked. Unlike me." James said to Rapdori who may be dull but had the honesty like that of a child.

"Eating a lot of meat helps," Rapdori answered, "at first it makes your farts smell terrible, but eventually your stomach stops being a wimp and it goes right to your muscle."

"I have a lot of salted meats back at my estate just outside the walls actually," Rapdori offered.

James laughed at Rapdori "I'll remember to eat a lot of meats. You actually have an estate though. I assumed you lived within the city or with the guards as you always seem to be showing off your muscles and talents to them." James chuckled.

"I am a Valarien, distant, but a Valarien. I own a small farming estate, fit with cows and pigs, and chickens, and little mice, and potatoes, and carrots, and-"

Rapdori started counting off his fingers, "and hoes, and shovels, and sheep sometimes when the local farmers run out of pasture for the winter, and piglets -- different than pigs -- and birds, and red birds, and a barn, a few barns, and a bunch of other things. My brother Googus does all the fancy administering, but I do most of the heavy stuff with the lower class who work it."

"My, you have a lot of animals on this farm and you seem to have fun at it at least from the way you're explaining it. I'm sure I'm somewhat like your brother as I manage multiple farms as well as other businesses within the city. Yet, if I'm being honest I wish to be like your cousin Allianna, a landed noble who hold influence and power. While she may not be as respected as her siblings she's definantely the most wise." James said looking to the sky as the sun was setting.

"She's a nice lady for sure." Rapdori quickly agreed, nodding vigoriously, "so what are you doing with your night?"

"I suppose sleep as all men must. I have been busy and will be the remainder till a new Emperor or Empress is voted on. Why what do you plan to do tonight?" James asked.

"I'm going to watch the chickens, did you want to watch them with me?" Rapdori answered innocently.

"Oh how I wished I could but I need to wake up early tomorrow to meet with more Magistates, the laws of the kingdom don't stop just because an Emperor's heart does." James chuckled "Perhaps when the election is over and I have more free time as the chickens at your estate seem fun."

"Oh," Rapdori seemed disappointed, "Maybe next time then, well, I better be off though... I don't want to miss anything..I CAN COME BY TOMORROW!"

"I can't wait, maybe I can see you in a fight tomorrow havn't seen you fight in awhile." James chuckled as the fella walked away. James smiled then began walking around the market.

The chapel of Kammeth was a modest structure within the city of Vandaster. A building of tilrinic Heartlander design that bespoke of its Imperial craftsmanship. It was a single story temple possessing one large chamber and a smaller closed off section to the rear that held a few rooms. Pews fashioned from wood - likely of southern origin- stood in six rows in total. The altar rose up three large steps, centered there was a the heart of every temple of Kammeth. A bronze bowl-shaped brazier, one fashioned with intricate cut out symbols that circled its circumference. The flame within the brazier glowed brightly; the fire meant to accept what offerings the faithful provided.

Transgressions were often written on a piece of paper and thrown into the fire to be consumed. So that the sin would always be between man and god. Though it was not uncommon for those illiterate to merely casting an offering of food or wood. Jakinius Valarien had not come to ask for forgiveness this day, however, but guidance.

On his knees before the sanctified flames of Kammeth, hands clasped together before him he was as unmoving as the statue of his god standing behind the lit brazier. News of his father's passing had filled him with both grief and doubt. He had felt lost adrift at sea and so he had sought the unmoving grace of Kammeth to which to anchor himself. All his life. As long as he could remember he had sought the acceptance of his father that his youngest brother had seemingly so easily earned.

He had never known why exactly he had been so distant with his old man. Sure they had shared different ideas and goals yet something more had driven them apart. Perhaps it was because he had spent the least time with Taramyth, growing up largely under the care and training of House Tallurian. They had almost become a second family to him. When he had returned to the Capital - a full grown man- he felt like a stranger returned to a place unfamiliar. Filled with strangers who shared only blood. At least, he had gotten on well with his uncles. One of the primary reasons for his going to the north at all was because of Carles urging. His father more interested in trade and finding new lands.

The doors of the chapel creaked open with an audible groan that awoke Jak from his reverie. Lokhagos Metinnus Jaroaria -adorned in his segmented imperial armor - entered the modest temple of Kammeth. The double wooden doors began creaking shut behind him as he walked down the aisle to the still kneeling prince of Lalrial. Metinnus looked about the fairly empty temple and whistled.

“And they say the south of the Septentrion is more devoted…” Metinnus said under his breath more to himself than anything.

Jakinius rose to his feet with a sigh, “I take it preparations for the ship are complete?”

The High Captain of the Riffleford company nodded though the prince with his back still turned could not see the gesture. “Aye, my apologies mi’lord, I did’a not mean to disturb you. But yes everything is underway, we’re ready when you are.”

Jakinius looked up at the statue of Kammeth. The unblinking figure of stone imposing in its stern stare, yet the craftsmen had done remarkably well in capturing the compassionate air of their god. “You know you needn't be so formal with me Metinnus.” A touch of amusement in his words.

“Ah well, a force of habit I picked up from being around nobles all me life I suppose.” The older man smiled. “Still might’in be a good habit to keep should you take the throne.”

At the mention of the throne and the election to follow in the coming days Jakinius frowned. Shifting he turned to meet Metinnus in the eyes and for the first time the company captain saw the uncertainty in his once and now former soldiers eyes. “Is this really the right move to make Metinnus? I feel I would better serve here as I always have, not on a warm safe throne countless leagues away.”

Metinnus understood his comrades anxiety all too well. The two had known each other for many years after all. They had first met before Jakinius’s identity had ever been revealed. So of course, Metinnus had treated him no differently than any of the other men under his command. In fact, after he realized the boy's potential he had pushed him harder in the months of drills and training as they prepared for the north.

“Aye, but that is not just any ass warmer Jakinius,” his former captain pointed out, “it's the seat that keeps this whole damn realm from falling apart and being scattered in the wind. I can’t imagine any man more worthy or capable of sitting on the gilded throne then ye’self.”

As usual, his former captain’s advice was crude and blunt- but exactly the truth of it as he understood it, nothing more or less. Jakinius merely inclined his head in understanding, his eyes falling to the fires that still burned in the brazier. He felt the hand of Metinnus fall on his right shoulder.

“Still unsure?” the captain more stated than asked.

“I am.”

“Good.”

Jakinius turned a puzzled gaze to the grizzled veteran. “How is that good?”

Metinnus only smiled. “Cause it means you don’t want the throne or its power. And those who don’t seek only power are less inclined to abuse it. Now come, the ship awaits and the sooner we’re off the better.”

---

As James walked back somewhat disheartened as his plans have been failing which come to think of it wasn’t very unusual. He then went down to his desk to look over the daily planner and began to read it over making sure he hadn’t missed anything out of the ordinary. Looking back throughout the day however he had failed with Benjamin and Lady Marra, but was able to strike a deal with Prince Aldrick which was something. He then set the papers down for a moment and just sat there and thought. About the future and tomorrow.

"James Conrad of Erayis," came the melodious voice. Sounding disembodied and sinister yet amused. From the far corner of the room, the shadows seemed to come alive as the space distorted and out stepped a cloaked and bent figure. He parted the shadows as if they were but a veil to step through. Yet by some trick of the light, it appeared as if he had always been standing there.

The man wore a hood that concealed much of his face; all but for his mouth and chin. The details of which revealed the figure had to be well advanced in years as evidence from the scars and wrinkles. Pale pink lips cracked into a smile before the figure continued talking. A smile revealing dark yellow stained teeth. "I see you have been a very busy little bee. Dear James."

James fell back into the nervous. As the shadow startled him “ You really shouldn’t do that you know, could give someone a heart attack. Also, yes I have been busy trying to get things to work out, usually to no avail but I must look productive. So what brings you here?” James said looking at the shadow.

The man seemingly ignored James's seeming discomfort on his choice of entry. He glided to one part of the room and inspected a single chair there, running a nearly withered finger over the polished wood. "I understand you have placed your efforts in Allianna," the figure more stated than asked. "The spoiled child of Taramyth, ever the silver spoon in her mouth since birth. "

He inclined his head as if listening to something... or someone. The smile returned. "Still, yes why I have come. You have ever asked the obvious Conrad. Report then. You have zipped your way across this spider web of politics, where stand these."

A waved a hand in the air almost dismissively, "Nobles of the empire? Even if you have not swayed them they have at least made in some way clear where they or their arch electors will swing."

“Indeed, I have spoken to at least and half and even if I wasn’t able to convince them. The main contenders as expected are Ralltene and Jakinius. Hard to see who will win, though. Jakinius has the respect and honor of his “famed” tales. While Ralltene has the money and connections to buy anyone he needs including my own arch elector it seem Benjamin Cragmore.” James said as he rose from the seat. “Do you want me to change my current plans or continue as I am learning the field?” James asked the man.

"Yes yes as expected, but The Elysian is more concerned with the apparent clear supporters." The figure turned to James then, only now was his left hand visible, a single coin easily juggled through the knuckles of his fingers. "Who supports who Conrad. Aside from the obvious of course, House Duvard will pledge their support to Jakinius and House Gracieux to Ralltene. Your place is to alert us to where the other families will fall…as for your future efforts...”

“The Elysian would have you begin making aims to support both Ralltene and Allianna. For every new Elector you speak to, advise them to support another contender. We must have the vote split as much as possible for as long as possible. My people will do the rest."

“I will do my best to keep the vote split, but you must remember unlike other Prime Magistrate I don’t come from family, loyalty or even land and so I am less trustworthy than those who might listen. I will try my best to support both and keep the election going for as long as can be. If I may ask as to why though?” James asked looking at the new barely visible man.

"Do not trouble yourself with the why, and know you efforts are hardly our only weapon in this endeavour." His smile was specially wolfish as if he found the very idea of entrusting such a task to James alone a joke in and of itself. "Concern yourself instead with The Argentum - who I might mention- have been steered away from our activities through careful manipulation. I'm sure you have heard of the arrest of the Swiftwaves? It should go without saying you should avoid speaking to any of house Tlaerie or their agents be they electors or magisters. "

The man paced to the other side of the desk, the coin in his hand moving all the while. "Their momentary distraction, however, is a weapon in and of itself. Be sure to bring the topic of the Swfitwave arrest up as often as possible. The flames of anger among the nobles will further aid our cause."

The hooded man looked to the window and inclined his head once more. "Now I must leave you. You have your orders. I trust you will continue to prove yourself... a valuable asset."

With that he turned back to the darkened section of the room, seemingly walking into nothing and vanishing from sight.

The Lady Lae'Vesi Trielia looked quite bored. The silver skinned pure blooded vaelie highborn sat in a thoroughly padded chair in her office, idly twirling long strands of her luminous golden hair around a delicate finger as radiant pools of molten gold slowly skimmed over the papers on the table in front of her. The scents of some exotic incense wafted through the opulent chamber from a set of smoldering braziers in the back of the room.

Then there was a knock at her door and the young vaelie lifted her head up from the papers, one silver hand guiding her wayward strands of hair back into place so the golden locks flowed pleasingly down behind and beside her ethereally beautiful face. “Who is it?” She called out, her voice sweet and slightly lilted in that smooth musical way the pureblood vaelie still possessed.

"It's James, might I come in my lady?" James said hold his hand on the handle waiting for a reply.

"Of course" Lae'Vesi called out once more with her musical voice as she stood up from the chair in a graceful motion. She was clad in traditional vaelie highborn garb with a dress of silver and gold made up of many individual strips of silken cloth wrapped intricately over her fair silver flesh. And like many vaelie outfits it did a marevelous job of highlighting the slender curves of the body beneath it.. Her full lips formed a warm smile as she waited. “Come in James.”

James walked in closing the door behind him and smiled "Hello, my lady and how are you on this fine evening?" James asked walking closer to Lae'Vesi.

With a fluid motion Lae'Vesi had slipped across the space that separated the two, and her slender silver arms, free of any cloth wrappings wrapped around the man. Her lithe body pressed against his and liquid pools of molten gold stole his gaze as her face hovered mere inches from his own. “Better now that I lay eyes upon you darling. As always you look good enough to eat.” Her tongue sensually licked along her full lips.

"Please, my sweet. Today has been hard and with the election I have much more work to do rallying votes for this canidate or that one." James sighed then looked upon her once more "Then again, I could never deny you, now could I?" James said as he began holding her close.

“Tell me everything.” The vaelie crooned, her head moving slightly as the golden pools of her eyes kept the man's locked on hers. Her touch was like fire, graceful hands gently starting to rub and caress Jame's body as she remained closely pressed against him. Then she leaned in, full lips brushing against the man's before she pulled back slightly. “Let me take your cares away. All of them.” Her words were musical and intoxicating coupled with her touch and the scents filling the room.

"Very well, if you must know. I spoke to my Lord Benjamin who is all to right in his mind to be swayed. Lady Marra the drunken fool rudely removed me from her rooms, yet I did have nice conversations with Prince Aldrick and Rapdori, How about you my dear. Anything you wish to share with me?" James asked lovingly.

“Oh it is so dreadful.” The vaelie pouted, her lips against mere inches from James'. “They are so brutal to you. If only they saw you like I did.” A silver hand gently traced along his cheek sending shivers through him as she slowly drew him deeper into the room. “I will take all your worries away.” She crooned once more as her lips darted forward hungrily to press against his.

"Please do, I am terrible tired and could use this." With that James embraced the kiss whole heartedly.

After a moment of passionate embrace the vaelie girl pulled away and slowly began to peel the intricate wrappings away from her flawless silver body...

---

Many hours later when James had left the chamber Lae'Vesi remained, working once more. In the candlelight the beautiful vaelie girl was writing quickly in a delicate and intricate script that the vaelie had brought with them from their homeland, a script few outside of the Argentum knew how to read, at least not in Ethica.

And when she had finished writing she called for her messenger and imparted the message to him. She had definitely found a heretic this time. Her cousins needed to know. She was totally going to get her inquisitioner's robes for this! And maybe she would get to find out how her little heretic tasted, that thought lingered in her mind.

Prince Aldrick had resided in the Imperial capital for several months prior to the Emperor's untimely demise, serving as his family's envoy and seeing that they had a voice in the Imperial court. He had certainly done his duty, keeping a finger to the court's "pulse" while making sure that the court never forgot about the north. Even so he spent just as much time in the pursuit of female companionship, something that made given him no small amount of infamy.

True to his duty, the prince had set himself up with a full day of work. The first time on his list was to meet a certain James Conrad. He pondered what the man would say to him as he waited, occasionally glancing at the armored shield sister that stood to his right or the unarmored one that sat besides him to his left.

James having gotten an early start on the day began with speaking to fellow prime Magistrate Prince Aldrick. He went to his office and knocked on the door.

"You may enter" Aldrick called from beyond the door seductively.

As James opened the door he smiled and greeted the young Prince "Ello, Prince Aldrick. I was wondering if you had some time to talk today?" James said walking in and taking a seat across from him.

"Of course" Aldrick said, flashing a the unarmored shield sister a smile as his gaze drifted to her. "I'm sure you want to talk about this... emperor business. Correct?"

James nodded "Yes, I am. I was wondering if you had any idea who your father would be voting for. As well as I am interested in your own personnel opinion?" James asked

"Father? Ah. I've been informed he isn't coming. Something about trouble up by Chave." Aldrick commented, sounding incredibly bored. "He's sending my sister to vote on his behalf, though if she doesn't arrive the honorably", his tone made honorably sound like a pain in the ass, "duty of voting falls to me." He let out a soft sigh before leaning towards the left, letting his hand rest on the shield sister's knee. "Little Dove, would you mind grabbing a bottle of wine for me and my guest?" He frowned as the shield sister rose and left the room. "Now what was I talking about?"

James looking a bit suprised that a man this young acted as if he couldn't remember something so simple "We were speaking about who you or you family my vote for as the next Emperor or perhaps Empress?" James said.

"Ah yes. I suspect my sister would have Jakinius take the throne. She has always seemed to appreciate his efforts in the North." Aldrick frowned as she stared at James for a moment. "That reminds me... she hasn't been wed yet. Care to try to gain her hand?" He said with the ghost of a smile, his tone hinting at some sort of unspoken joke.

James let a chuckle slip from him mouth "Why, thank you for the offer my dear lord. But do you forget yourself, I am merely a landless noble working for the Cragmores. I doubt it'd help your house to marry such a wonderous women to a lower man. That being said though if it were up to you on who to vote for or at least suggest to your sister who might it be?" James asked as the guard began placing glasses infront of them.

Aldrick took a long sip of his wine before replying "Well I suppose it depends on who offers the most to me and my homeland. What difference does it make if we place one or the other on the throne if he or she ignores the north?"

"Oh please prince. Don't play dumb you aren't like my lord Kenten Cragmore who just wants money or power. Besides even if you don't have something to gain other house surely do. Especially if you were to play Jakinius or Ralltene on the throne as they are both married to high lord ladies. With those marriage I suspect that house would garner more power as well. Unlike Allianna who isn't even married and unlike her brothers she at least knows how to lead a title and the in workings of politics. Wouldn't you agree?" James said taking a sip from the fine wine.

"Ah yes, Lady Allianna. How could I ever forget such a pretty thing." Aldrick commented. He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing "My family might be... inclined to vote a certain way if we were to have certain guarantees."

"Such as what exactly?" James asked looking a little suprised. "It's not like I can guarentee anything truely, I simply want to get a general idea of how the other houses are voting and perhaps suggesting a person whom I would vote for." he said as he began leaning back.

"We want a road" Aldrick said simply, eliciting a small laugh from the armored shield sister.

"A road? A road for what exactly?" Raising an eyebrow at the idea.

"Transportation of course" Aldrick raised his own eyebrow in response. "The roads leading to the north are both small and in disrepair. If we had a larger one built it would not only
facilitate further trade but allow the Empire to easily move men to and from the north." He paused for a moment before continuing "It would also be nice if we had some extra forts built on the northern border to help defend the Empire from any heathen incursions."

"Why, I'm sure if you spoke to any of the contenders they could each promise you that. But the question would be what do they get in return. Jakinius of course knows the north needs more men. Hell I'm sure if he became emperor first thing he'd do would be a war. Ralltene has the gold and the trade would help his power spread but I doubt that's what he's holding his money for. Allianna could see a use in both but unlikely has the money. Now, I on the other hand do believe trade to the north could be useful not only being a business man myself I could perhaps fund a road project for the right deal of course." James said with a smile and a sip from his wine.

"And what is it you seek?" Aldrick said, allowing his facade of boredom to slip away. "Titles? Land? Promises?"

"I believe we've been speaking of what I want. I'd more then likely double profits if there was a better protected road to the north as well as a more traveled one. But the many thing I'd want would be a vote for Emperor or shall I say Empress? Also, perhaps a personnal trade deal with myself such as your finest producers use my goods over others." James said leaning back and finishing his glass of wine.

"I'm sure that can be arranged. And I'm sure that I can convince my sister to vote one way or antoher. A road for trade rights and a vote in Allianna's favor..." Aldrick let his voice trail off. "I shall favorably consider this deal."

James nodded "This deal would be favorable to all parties would it not? Though if this is all, I believe our busieness here is concluded is it not?" James said readying to get up and begin the walk to his next "Appointment"

"It is" Aldrick rose to his feet. "Would you care for one of my 'little doves' to escort you to your next destination?" Aldrick gestured towards the shield sisters.

James gave a chuckle "No thank you, I'm sure I'll be fine." with that James headed off.




“Lady Valarien” Prince Aldrick said as he entered the room, rendering a low bow as was expected, “It pleases me greatly that you made time to speak with me.”

“Duchess,” Allianna laughed mirthfully, sitting up in her comfy seat by a wide mouthed firepit, clear of any soot despite the thick smell of a previous fire in the well decorated room.

“But I’m not really counting,” Allianna patted a velvet seat next to her with her ringed hand, “care to sit with me, Prince?”

“It would be my honor” Aldrick said as he walked over and sat besides her. He allowed his gaze to wander the room for a moment before shifting his attention back to her face. After a moment he said “I understand that you have some support in the electorate.”

“Odd,” Allianna’s eyes drooped slightly, “I thought everyone was clamoring for one of my brothers. Do you think differently, Prince?”

“I can certainly understand why” Aldrick spoke softly. “Despite the fact that the Empire was created by a fair lady few lands… appreciate them in the same way that my homeland does.” He paused for a moment before continuing “I’ve received a message from my father that he is sending my sister in his place and, should she not arrive in time, that I have full authority to vote for who I see fit.”

“Tell me then, Prince,” Allianna scooted slightly closer, her eyes darkened with curiousity, “are you a blind man? Or are you aware of who has been voicing the late Emperor at court all the months he was at sea, or out on a safari?”

“I have quite the eye for people” Aldrick said, leaning slightly towards the duchess. He let his gaze linger on her face for a moment before turning away to gaze at a painting on the wall. “Sadly what is best for one part of the Empire isn’t always good for another part. It’s my duty” his tone became one of bored indifference “to ensure that the north isn’t forgotten. Surely you understand.”

Allianna cocked her head sideways, and a suspicious smile curled on her face, “oh Prince Aldrick, you completely forgot my question and point! It is neither Jakinius, who is lost in the garrisons up north, nor Ralltene, who is just as distant as the previous Emperor who administered the courts here, and the courts here relate to every court in the Emperor, which relates to nobles, and then to the people. Should you wish to not be forgotten, mayhaps you get an Emperor, or Empress who hasn’t first forgotten his or her’s own courts.”

“Ah yes. Brave Jakinius” There was a hint of sarcasm in Aldrick’s voice. “At least we can be confident that he will focus his attentions in the north. Or at least that’s what my sister will argue.”

“The north, definitely, but perhaps a little more north than where your sister thinks he focuses,” Allianna gave a half laugh.

“I certainly agree with you” Aldrick said. “But you must understand that my sister will consider him a good choice. She is rather… militant herself… running off with the shield sisters and leading soldiers into battle and all.” Aldrick remained silent for a moment before continuing “But perhaps if you could tell me some of the… specific things you would do if you were Empress I could sway my sister to reconsider.”

“Prince Aldrick, I think you are a clever youthful man,” Allianna started, “I’m sure you already see in your mind, what I will do. The courts know me, and while I’m not swinging a blade to make those in armor blush, I certainly am keeping every pocket full, and every stomach, so long as I reign in the courts with my limited power. I’m sure you understand, that as a Duchess I only effect so much, but how much that I do affect multiplies when you add a greater title to the armament of politics.”

“You’re most certainly intelligent, and you already know which one of three even remembers your country,” Allianna patted her lap and smiled, “don’t you?”

“I want the vote to go to you. Truly I do” Aldrick clasped his hands together. “But I have to come away with something solid here. If my house votes for you and you become Empress I need a guarantee of something. New forts on the border. Increased garissions. Something like that.” He paused before adding “I can also try to get an endorsement from the shield sisters, but only if you make a solid promise to aid in the north’s defense. You know how they are.” He ended with a shrug.

“You can have all my promises,” Allianna laughed, “every last one. There is not a doubt in my mind that with a great mind on the throne, we won’t be losing ten thousand men in the webbed woods due to a bad tip, or a lack of funding where it is needed most. As I said, I remember your country, so of course I promise to provide.”

“Well” Aldrick’s laugh had quite a bit less mirth than Allianna’s, “I suppose I shall work with what I have. I shall ensure that your intentions are passed along to my sister.” He waited a moment before rising from his seat. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have a few other appointments today.”

“Are you sure?” Allianna’s smile faded, “I’ll be honest, an intelligent conversation void of politics would be nice for at least a couple minutes, or has the brunt of the courts not reached you yet?”

“It’s not that that talk of politics hasn’t worn on me,” Aldrick answered, “I just take my duties very seriously. Still… I would be a fool to decline the opportunity to enjoy a conversation with a beauty such as yourself.” He sat back into his seat.

“Beauty?” Allianna exclaimed in a hushed breath, “my dear Prince Aldrick I must say that is quite forward of you, but not on unflattered ears.”

A warm smile found itself back on the woman’s face as she stood up. Gently she flattened her embroidered dress against her before walking to a rich mahogany cabinet.

“Southern drink for the Northern Gentleman?” Allianna asked while slowly perusing the polished bottles behind the hinged doors.

“Of course” Aldrick answered. “One thing you’ll be quick to learn about me is that I never turn down a fine drink”

“Learn?” Allianna slipped a thin green bottle from the cabinet, “so I’ll be seeing more of you then?”

“Perhaps” He said with a smile. “Perhaps not” He teased.

“Oh I see,” Allianna tipped the mouth of the bottle to a crystal cup, “poke my mind for politics, drink my drink, and run away? Is that the game?” A humorous crack in her voice gave away her jest as she lifted the full glass and walked it to Aldrick.

“The best games are those you want to play over and over again” He responded as he took the offered glass. “And this is a game I’m enjoying quite a bit.” He raised the glass up for a moment before taking a quick sip.

“Oh I agree, but I’d like to know more about who I’m playing with,” Allianna casually slumped back into her chair, her drink nearly spilling, “tell me who Aldrick is.”

“Aldrick is a man” He said. There was a moment of silence before he shot Allianna a smile. “Ah fine. I’m the second son of my house and third in line of the throne. So in short important enough to be domineered by my family but not important enough to have any real power.” He shrugged.

“Important enough to be used for work and courts, but not enough to be praised for it either, I bet,” Allianna frowned, “I do hope I’m wrong in my assumption of course.”

“Unfortunately you are correct” Aldrick answered. “And to make matters work I tend to… play the fool in order to see the family’s will done. What must be done must be done” He said with a shrug. “I suppose the one thing I should be happy about is that I haven’t been married off in order to gain some minor favor with some distant nobles.”

“I suppose,” Allianna ran her finger around the lip of her drink as she thought, “it is never easy being the faithful one while everyone else finds praise in nothing, or very little. People want figureheads though, it’s what makes them happy, but not exactly wise.”

“But come come,” Allianna smirked, “we both already know this and talked politics, tell me more about you!”

“Hmmm…. Well have you ever been to the north?” Aldrick asked. “Probably not. What they say is true. It can be a somewhat treacherous land indeed. What few people seem to remember is the beauty one can find there. You can’t say you’ve seen a beautiful landscape till you’ve gazed upon the mountains from my home or wandered through the northern woods.” He frowned as something occurred to him. “Though I’d stay away from the woods if I were you.”

“I lost a few loved ones there,” an actual look of sadness shined over Allianna’s eyes, “and I can imagine all the others who did as well.”

“I apologize if I brought up some bad memories” Aldrick reached over and placed a hand on top of her’s.

A warm tear shook before fading back behind her eye, “I’m sorry.”

Allianna coughed gently and body came back into her voice, “I, I know how tough things can be up there. I truly do.”

“You have nothing to apologize over” Aldrick said. “I’m sure you have a lot on your plate right now. It was thoughtless of me to have brought the subject up.” His eyes wandered about the room as he sought some topic to change the conversation to.

“I don’t know,” Allianna said quietly, “maybe, maybe I should just be alone for a little while. You have some important duties to take care of, and I’ve wasted your time as it is.”

“Not that important” Aldrick responded. “But if you wish to be alone I shall oblige.”

Allianna looked over and smiled, but a red irritation around her eyes spoke of a different story, “no, no it’s okay. Don’t put things aside just because of me, please. It’s really okay. I’ll be fine.”

Aldrick eyed her for a moment before nodding slowly. “If you insist.” He said as he rose from his seat. “Should you desire my company again you need but call and I shall come running. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He gave he a deep bow before turning to leave.

“I do hope we see each other again soon,” Allianna bowed her head, a sly hand quickly patted below her eye as if to catch something.
Aldrick lingered for a moment before taking his leave. He allowed Allianna to stay at the forefront of his thoughts for a bit longer before setting his mind to the task at hand. He did, after all, take his duties very seriously.

"Finally alone..." Lady Remis whispered to herself as she was alone in the royal chambers. The three Lords of House Stormborn, House Steelskin and House Shattershield arrived to act as regents for the king while he was gone, she thought these men to be empty headed fools, chasing a prize they could never attain, however, with the arrival of the three arrived Mertenis Steelskin, younger brother to Maridan Steelskin. But her thoughts quickly reversed to her older brother Dorias, who was forced so quickly to grow up and lead this nation and by all accounts, he ruled the country perfectly, but he was rather ignorant of the outside world and it's customs, something which could very well make him a target for the more cunning nobles of the Empire, but she realized that he had Vermias with him, a strong young man, but also a cunning one, he would be Dorias' shield in any way he needed him to be.

As she was pondering, she heard a light knock on the door that awoke her from her thoughts, it was either one of the servants, or one of the three thick headed lords, if it were the latter, even if she did not like them, she had to be respectful towards them. "The door is open, come in!" she said in a sweet tone. And the door creaked open to the sight of a person she wished to see, Mertenis Steelskin. She wished to run, to embrace him and to kiss him, but she was the younger sister of the king, she needed to act the part and instead rose from her chair and bowed to the young noble. "What brings you here, Sir Mertenis?"

Mertenis had already entered the room and was now carefully closing the door and soon turned towards Remis and said with a relieved smile. "You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again, my love!" he says, only for Remis to wrap her hands around him and placing her head on his chest, almost crying with joy.

"I missed you so much, my dear!" she said, refusing to let go him under any circumstance. Mertenis hugged her back and lightly pressed his lips upon hers. The room then fell silent as the two were embracing, however, he noticed a small pile of letters on her desk, on top there was one where the sender had only signed himself with a R and several numbers after it.

"What is that letter about?" he asked, releasing Remis from the embrace and staring curiously at the letter.

A tad dissapointed, Remis got back in her seat and looked at the letter briefly before answering. "It is a letter from one of my informants in Kawachian South Ethica, apparently, two members of the Swiftwave family have been taken by the Inquisitors of the Argentum and by extension of House Tlaerie." she answers. "House Swiftwave and House Tlaerie have been at one another for quite a while, but with Emperor Taramyth favoring the Swiftwave's there wasn't much action the Inquisiton could take against them, but now that he's dead... well, we'll see what the future holds."

"Do you think they'll go to war for this?" Mertenis asks, still staring at the letter. "I mean, House Tlaerie doesn't even have a proper army and without an emperor, I doubt anyone is going to intervene should it come to war."

"It is too early to say, my love, but in these troubled times, everything's possible and as always, we'll take the neutral stance, should a war truly break out." she answers with a heavy sigh. "My love, what did your brother wish with me?" she asks. "Since I'm sure you used this occasion to visit me, but also to give your brother's message."

Mertenis chuckles and answers. "I had nearly forgotten about it!" he says. "He and the other two lords wish to see you, what for I have no idea, but my brother instructed me to get you, they probably want to talk to you.

With a sigh, she raises herself from her once more and says with a weary smile. "Then let's not keep them waiting, shall we?"

---



Mardanis walked through the city, he was a royal guard with nobody to guard. He believed that he maybe could have prevented Taramyth's death somehow and all this chaos that the empire was now in, but Taramyth had refused to take him along. Though in truth he felt somewhat relieved that he hadn't been taken him along, after all, he could have lost his life in whatever accident the emperor had. He quickly pushed those thoughts out of his head and stared at his surroundings. When he first arrived here ten years ago, he was fascinated with the size and the beauty of it all, however, time dulls everything, and in his sight, after only two short years, the city had become something dull to him and soon had grown to miss the sights of home, the majestic mountains, the tall green trees and the most of all, the snow.

Again however, he pushed his thoughts away as he had reached a small tavern and entered it. He didn't bother to look around, he knew for what, or rather for who he came here. He quickly noticed the ones he searched for, they were from the Royal Guard as well and from the same lands as he. "Laikar!" he said in a stern tone. "It is your duty as my second in command to discipline the other men, not get them drunk and in bed with you!" he said, glaring at the man, who was a bit tipsy, on the seat next to him was beautiful woman with long white hair tied in a pony tail and with shining light blue eyes, she seemed to be a bit tipsy as well.

Laikar stared at Mardanis before smiling and saying. "Ah, calm down, now that there's no emperor, we can stop following the emperor like little dogs!" he said raising his mug towards Mardanis, wanting to hand it to him, however, he moved the mug away from his face and stared at Laikar, anger clearly being seen in his eyes.

"It's worse than this, now that there's more competitors for the throne, we have to spread out and guard them all, since they're all potential emperors or empress!" he said, almost raising his voice to a shout. "And as my second in command, you need to do your duty as a royal guard!"

But a calm and soothing voice intervened in the argument of the two. "Mardanis, instead of trying to guard all of them, why don't you try and guard and the one you wish to be emperor, that way, you can maybe affect the choice of the other electors." the other guard had said, it was Marianna Stormborn, a person Mardanis and Laikar both fancied quite a bit. "After all, if you don't guard them, they'll be so easy to get rid of, am I correct?" she asks, a devious smile forming on her face.

Uncertainty had begun to show on Mardanis' face. At first he wanted to refuse this outright, but then he thought of the one who would be a fitting emperor, it was Jankinus Valarien, a very honorable man, a man experienced in battle, a man who had the Great Protector shielding from danger, he believed that he was the man that would lead the empire to glory yet again and silence the bickering between the lords taking place in the city, he would be the one who would finally conquer the North and place it under the Imperial Fold and much like his forefather Morgas protected Lalaifia during her conquests, he would be there to shield him from danger with the same shield that Morgas used.

Laikar stared at Mardanis' thoughtful expression and stood silent for a few seconds before asking. "Well, what is it ya decided, should we guard all the little boys and girls of the royal family or only one?" he asks. "In my opinion, we shouldn't guard any of them until the actual emperor emerges, but hey, I'm not the one in charge, now am I..."

Mardanis was still thinking, however, not not for long, his expression changed from a thoughtful one a determined one. "Get up you two, we need to move!" he ordered to the two. "We need to get the Royal Guard ready for the arrival of the emperor, Laikar, get Morgon and the rest of the Royal Guard and have them come at the gates of the city, we will greet our new emperor as it fits someone of his stature."

With a wide grin, Laikar raises from his seat and says: "On your command, I shall do so, sir!" he said and hurried for the Royal Palace to fetch the rest of the Royal Guard, meanwhile Mardanis had been left alone with Marianna.

"The two of us, Marianna shall go ahead to the city gates and await for Emperor Jankinus to arrive!" he says and helps her raise from her seat.

Vestera, Aeche, Ethica

It had been nine candle marks since sunrise, time enough for the morning fog to have melted away under the early light of day and already started its creeping return as once more the sun sagged low in the sky and Kammeth made ready to rest. In all that time and to the surprise of none his lordship, King Eretes the second of Aeche, had not stirred from his heavy sleep. On most days such was merely accepted as an intractable aspect of his majesty’s eccentric personality, but in light of recent tragedy there could be no patience afforded to the dear king today.

So it came to be that after suffering through nine whole marks of waiting Crown Prince Neset Seval would stomp unceremoniously into the bedchambers of his father and upend a pail of seawater upon him. Stoic but unmistakably agitated Neset coolly questioned the now conscious, sopping, and flustered King, “Lord Father, when did you imagine you would be departing to the capital today?”

Well acquainted with such treatment Eretes issued a simple but irritated grunt in reply and heaved himself out of what would be yet another ruined bed. Sighing heavily the King waved Neset out of the room and went about the arduous process of stripping the drenched night clothes from his body and drying himself before changing into more formal attire. At times like this such an admission was begrudging at best, but Eretes knew his son meant well. He was a king after all, and the word of Emperor Taramyth's death had arrived two nights prior. Were he to dally much longer it'd reflect poorly on the kingdom, and the grief he'd receive from Mera would be unimaginable.

More stepping into the door than opening it Eretes emerged from his bedchamber clad in a rich blue cloak and a pale green doublet. The attire reflected the provincial flags flying on the castle parapets outside and was an expected mark of any formal event jolly or somber. With a slight smile Eretes greeted his son, “Neset, I trust the morning has treated you better than I?”

“It did,” Neset paused for a moment to correct his fathers crooked cloak and nodded before continuing, “though I fear it has long passed into evening my now.”

“Nonsense my son, you know that morning only starts just before sundown, and as I can still see Kammeth's up and about it must be very early indeed!” The king retorted as he fell into a morning stretch that only served to once more set his cloak at an odd angle. Not giving his son the pleasure of fixing it again Eretes started down the hall, only pausing to chuckle when he noted a team of servants rushing to his chambers in his wake. Neset was certainly meticulous, though it wasn't as if the boy had a lack of time to prepare for his stunt.

With a sigh of resignation to his father’s antics Neset followed him, “I struggle to imagine how you survived before you married mother.”

“It was difficult,” Eretes shrugged, “but that aside, I presume you've prepared the boat and guard?”

Neset nodded, “Of course, mother waits with them, as does my cousin Certes. It seems our Duke of Ramoi has business in the capital.”

As the two made their way down a flight of stairs to the castle dock Eretes remarked sarcastically, “So I won't even get a respite from politics during the voyage then? I should have just appointed you my representative; this disruption will put me weeks behind in my work for the Astronomers Conclave.”

Neset grinned for the first time all morning and joked, “Such isn't my place father, not until mother pushes you out the window at least.”

With a huff of mock offence and a grin of his own Eretes pushed open the riverside gate and took his first steps onto the dock that rested below the great castle. Greeting the small party that would be heading to the capital with him Eretes took the time to shake the hand of each one, making his way up from the guards to the higher nobles. While he didn't enjoy having to abandon his studies there was no reason to be impolite about it, and to all but one of the assembled group the king was the very image of courtesy.

That one was, unsurprisingly, Duke Certes. There was no warmth in the greeting Eretes offered his nephew and naught but suspicion in his face when doing it, “Certes, what a surprise to see you here.”

With a short bow Certes returned the mock courtesy, “Your majesty, some business in the capital demands my presence and as I was already in Vestera I figured it would be best to travel with family.

With a snort of contempt Eretes made his way onto the vessel and was shortly followed by the rest of the party. To the assembled there was little point in remarking on the Kings encounter with his nephew, their own encounters had followed much the same pattern. Nobody could prove a thing of course, but ever since the death of Certes father the suspicion had fallen unanimously on the new Duke of Ramoi. To most it was little more than Certes being 'the type' to do such a thing, but to the few who truly knew him it was clear that Certes has been far too enthusiastic over his own father’s death, and far too uneasy beforehand.

Still, nothing had ever come to light and in a mere few years the new Duke had quickly cemented himself as an increasingly important part of Aeche's nascent trade network. There were none who could gather the evidence for a trial, and fewer still would have the stomach to accuse the very man who had made many of them a great deal richer.

Taking his mind off such unpleasant thoughts Eretes elected to sit above deck and watch as the boat lurched from the dock and started its way to sea. With every moment the city and its castle became clearer, the two great banks dotted with homes glowing silently as night approached and the river that divided them shimmering with the last of Kammeth's golden light. On the largest bridge spanning the great water way sat the castle of Vestera, a construct as awe inspiring as the gleaming water below it.

Turning away from the splendor, Eretes looked toward the darkening waters ahead.

Lalrial, Imperial Heartlands, Ethica

With a groan the ship came to a stop on the dock and the crew set about lashing it under the bright sun. To the surprise of most aboard Eretes was awake at the hour, though he could hardly be called lively. Without his work to do the king had spent most of his time in the attempt to sleep during the nights, but a lifetime of habit would not be vanquished in a handful of days. Groggily stepping out onto the dock Eretes meekly waved farewell to Certes company and waited for his party to arrange transportation to the Imperial Palace.

In his life Eretes had seen the Imperial city a number of times and while he couldn't deny its majesty, he had always felt a tad uneasy in the expansive city. This feeling unfortunately made the fatigued king utterly incapable of sleep for the entirety of the carriage ride to the palace, where upon arriving he looked the very image of a raised corpse.

First it had been by sea and then by horse from the docks as the Vialiph of the Argentum came to the capital. There was much that needed to be done, mistakes had been made and there was an Emperor to elect, his vote would be needed. Sometimes the others were too zealous, sometimes they did not see enough of the big picture. And it was a pair of short sighted inquisitor generals that awaited him when he arrived.

His horse pulled up into the stable of the Argentum's Silver-Gold tower in Lalrial and an attendant rushed to take the reins from him. The pair of supervising Inquisitor Generals were waiting for his arrival in their silver and gold formal robes.

With a swift, fluid motion he lept down from the back of his faithful steed and landed before them. And his strangely beautiful, for there was no other word for a Vaelie pureblood, face was twisted with indignation.

“You have overstepped our bounds.”

“My lord Vaeliph, it was thy decree that we begin to move on the Swiftwave” the female inquisitor began, her musical voice stuttering slightly.

“I ordered you to obvserve and build a case for the new Emperor. We look like opportunists now. We have a chance to finally immolate them and you just bestowed the sympathy of half the empire on heretics who spread their insidious cancer!” It was discordant and wrathful, scathing and powerful. The other vaelie felt it too, and they shuddered.

“We apologize lord Vaeliph, we acted without thought.”

“Yes, you did and now we have to clean this up. How badly did you injure them? And did you even find a heretic for all this trouble?” His words were demanding and powerful and his silver hand grabbed one of the inquisitors by the robes and pulled him over.

“The man broke under consumption, the woman is physically unharmed. We did get a confession, the Viceroy himself is”

The Vialiph's golden eyes widened as his expression darkned even more, dangerously so. “You performed consumption on high nobility? You are stripped of your authority and demoted to initiates. But first. You will fetch me one of the Tallurians, we can't fix consumption, they can. I will have to wipe the Swiftwaves and it will be messy at best. Now go!”

The two inquisitors fled the room as if their gods themselves had appeared and declared them heretics. The Vialiph raised a flawless silver hand to his head just as a servant ran up bearing a message.

One quick perusal brought the building headache to a peak and with a loud sigh the vaelie folded up the paper and slipped it into a pocket. His cousin had found yet another heretic. Probably another lover who had jilted her… Vae'lesi did not know when to stop. But he would have to deal with this and quickly. They could not afford another incident before the new Emperor was chosen. And he still had to do damage control. It was probably an opening lost for another generation but for now risking the order was foolish, even if a sacred immolation was called for.

He would need to personally release the prisoners with his apologies and their memories fogged, if he did, it might be enough to keep the nightmare spiral from beginning.

Much of news travels by word or horse ridden messenger; however, every lazy noble knows by bird is the most convenient, and favorably, all nations use them.

The Imperial Coop was the hub of the pigeon information network. Every homing pigeon from the capital, and more specifically, the palace, lives here and reports to a fat man by the name of Gerald. The man was large, dull, and as white as the pigeon excrement that spotted the wooden, sky lit coop atop one of the cities most promising towers.

As ragged and beat up the high positioned peasant looked, the black dressed figure next to him contrasted him greatly. Where Gerald’s shoulder drooped, spry young shoulders held themselves confident. The sun spots that broke through the thin cracked wood gave the scene a surreal reflection. Pigeons cooed over their hushed voices, and anxious wing flaps shadowed their consonants. If not for the acrid smell of bird, the striking scent of paper and ink would have overcame the sketchy scene as the two exchanged their outlawed words.

“Not a bird comes in, not a bird goes out that I don’t know about first,” a voice said sharply to the fat man. Gerald nodded, knowing there was only one answer to the statement, “Yes..”

“I want to know the name of every frequent messenger that shows his head in this city, and you tell me if anyone complains.”

“Yes.”

“I want every word, every rumor told to me, do NOT write it down, or you’ll find yourself without fingers and a tongue.”

“Yes.”

“Do not let a single letter leave this coop unless I read it first.”

“Yes.”

“Any questions?”

“No.”

“Good man,” a sick chuckle came from the darkened figure.

A white flash of paper left the figures pocket, “and send this out, now.”

Gerald quickly took the letter from the figure and hurried off.

The letter was quickly tied to a pigeon that homed to Jakinius, and the letter read:

---

---

---

---

It felt strange, sitting in the royal throne.

Even after five days of being appointed as “Lord Regent” he still felt it an uncomfort that he wasn’t sure how to feel about. His brother had gone off to the imperial capital, Lalrial, with his father in a silent rush. No words had been spoken to him by his father or his brother or by the council about the decision; as if it was “how things should be” and that it was completely acceptable. He wondered if the same reaction was met well when Duncan Cragmore prepared to do the same. Then again William saw King Kenten Cragmore as a bit of a drunken oaf and equally as psychotic as his heir. William had once heard that the King of Erayis fornicated with goats in front of guests to assert dominance over them. He was sure it was a lie, but the fact those kind of words were said made him look at the Cragmore’s twice— and his sister, Imara, was marrying into that lot.

Benjamin Cragmore had been educated in Ebonheart some years back, but something bothered him about him. He was too different than his family to the point of surrealism and on top of that it reminded him of his brother, Rodan, who was sort of a problem when they were younger. Not the abrasive type of problem Alexander was, but more of the “I just had a druid cast a spell on you and you should stay away from water.” problem. He had been too scared to bathe for four weeks after that happened and when it rained… he didn’t even want to remember it. But Rodan did change from his darker temperament and the word was that he was a more kinder and honorable sort.

But then again, Rodan was now promised to marry Avalia Talurian; a fact that William couldn’t ignore especially considering Rodan had only been Xandria’s royal ambassador for a whole two years now and had specifically requested Tellaria as his post to “make sure Ethias & Alexia have someone close to home near them”. Rodan had never cared about Imara let alone those younger than her so the whole “family matters” schtick wasn’t even close to feeling right. It was a bunch of pigeon shit as far as he was concerned; but father had accepted both the marriage and the post, so he left out of it. If Rodan was honorable now then he had become especially more cunning and ambitious— a fact that bothered him.

He sighed as he looked over to his wife who seemed to look equally as awkward sitting in the long empty seat of the Queen of Xandria.

“You look how I feel.” William said with a nervous chuckle. “Not sure how anybody can get used to this.”

Aristal looked over, “it wouldn’t be so bad.” She paused and looked around before hushing her voice. “But the queen’s seat is a little dented inward around the bum.”

His brother would’ve scolded her for that comment, he was certain. But really, this was one of the reasons why he loved Aristal Valarien. It wasn’t that it lacked manners or tact, but really straddled the line of appropriate and the right kind of humor to make a room more breathable. He was biased, of course, considering his title of “The Jester Prince” as bestowed to him early in life. But it was here, in the throne room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash to say such a thing albeit at a hushed volume. Him in the same position probably wouldn’t have the same confidence and nerve. But then again, “The Jester Prince” had been absent from William’s voice for reasons that were due to his mother’s death twelve or so years ago. But meeting Aristal and falling in with her had brought it back out, like it never was gone in the first place. She was like a fuel that reignited a dying flame.

William blinked, his brow raised at the remark. “You just said that. Out loud.”

A look of horror crossed Aristal’s face, her eyes in a slight panic. Her voice softened even more into a whisper, “Should I not have?”

William laughed as he witnessed her expression. “I wouldn’t worry about, there’s nobody here to hear it. Well, outside of me, the guards… and the ghosts.”

Aristal made a face and swung a fist into the air playfully, mock hitting William, “I’m not that gullible! It’s just something I’m not used to is all. At the very least, these ghosts could fix the seats of our chairs. What are we even sitting for, waiting on visitors? I feel like a grandmother who doesn’t get any visits from her children but remains doubtfully hopeful.”

“You’re right.” He paused for a moment as he stood up from the throne. “Well, I suppose the only answer I can give you is that I’m not sure what else to do. I’m Lord Regent, and I have nothing to… well, regent. Xandria’s dukes do a lot of the ‘heavy pulling’ which leaves only one fourth of the nation needing the King unless circumstances warrant it. I mean I can set in ordinances and decrees. I could knight you if you’d like, that’d be a riot.”

Aristal looked around again, as if there was a sudden secret audience she was wary of. A smile crept over her face. “Can you really?”

A loud audible groan came from one of the others in the throne room as William averted his attention to the source of the discontent.

“Lord-Regent William can indeed, do such a thing. But I would not advise such frivolous mockeries of knighthood and I would remind him of his duty.” The comment came from William’s personal guardian, Ser Irdana Qwynt, a member of House Valian’s royal guard.

William frowned, “Oh come on, Irdana, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud.”

“I will continue being a stick-in-the-mud until one of us is gone and buried as is my oath.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I know you are trying to find entertainment out of your boredom, but believe me you should be doing something far more kingly.”

“Like what?” Aristal interjected, “I think we are doing great so far. We’ve sat down, we complained, we almost ordained a knight.”

She looked over to William, perhaps for reassurance of her statement, or perhaps waiting for a smile from her joke; either way she smiled contentedly with her rebuttal.

“From my ears? He could do something about the vilespawn nest that was detected downriver, the sandseed infestation in our ports… there are more than a handful of options, my lady.”

“We could probably figure something out.” Aristal looked intently at William, “Right?”

William nodded as he reached for the goblet of wine that was to his left. “Well I g—”

The throne room’s doors suddenly opened, effectively stopping William dead in his sentence, to see a young page.

“My apologies Lord-Regent, but Princess Emilia Valian requests an audience.”

It was a strange thing to hear in the midst of the discussion, but he was now distracted by his curiosity. Emilia was his youngest sister, albeit the fiercest of the three daughters of his father. The fact she wanted an official audience with him as Lord-Regent was odd indeed. What had she been waiting the last few days to address to him in official capacity? What was she unable to tell their father? He thought for a moment before looking to the courtier who had announced such to him.

“My sister? Right, weird, I approve of course. Let her in.”

Few moments passed as Emilia Valian marched in with her guardian at her side. She looked as determined as Alexander had when they discussed his plans only a few days prior… a fact that set him in unease. Emilia already had a reputation of a militant ranger who was cut from the same cloth as Alexander, though with more talent in archery than the entire current Valian line combined; William was skilled in archery and he didn’t even come close to her ability and he was twice her age. It almost made a man sinfully envious. Almost. He kept his mouth shut as he waited for her to go through the courtesies and then speak her case.

“Lord-Regent.” She spoke calmly and clearly.

“Right. Well, so you have your audience, Emilia. Is there something on your mind?” As William spoke, Aristal seemed to sink back into her chair, eager to not get in the way of family matters.

“Yes. As you know I am fourteen years past my nameday now. With our elder brother’s intentions to travel north I wish to join a honorable expedition of interest to me. I ask you this as Lord-Regent to know that I am an adult now and should be allowed to make my own decisions. I have no interest staying in Ebonheart when there is a whole world out there. So in full, I wish to be allowed to do this quest and pursue my freedom. If you could respect my wishes and support me I will be eternally grateful.” Emilia’s declaration had a bite to it as her presence from her march inward into the throne room had only suggested beforehand.

“I see. This is quite the thing you are asking.” William took a breath to clear his mind as he took a drink from the goblet. “Father will most certainly be unhappy. Were you afraid to tell him?”

It was a bit of a trick of changing the conversation but William wasn’t quite sure how to address the situation. His sister was the least flowey of the Valian women and this was her being clear. He still remembered when she was asked what she wanted to do in life and she said “ranger” without battling an eye. She was seven at that time. He didn’t even find archery interesting until he was eleven and that was quite the years of difference. But she had been compared to their mother’s sister, Rymira, on many occasion— probably a reason why she had been educated by the experienced knight-ranger. It really came to no surprise that she wanted to adventure and not be thrown into a political marriage at this point their house didn’t need in the present considering their Taullruian, Valarien, Amrothan, and Duvard ties. Honestly, if he didn’t have his father and perhaps the royal council to worry about he would’ve just said yes right out of the door.

“Father has been sullen and depressed for the entirety of my life. Endangering myself would risk breaking him.”

“So you leave it to me to be the one who does.” William retorted, a bit more abrasive then he would’ve liked.

“While I can accept your request, I won’t. The way I see it is if you are truly an adult as you say, you will be direct and honest with father when he returns; just as Alexander was. You can be patient until then.”

Emilia’s demeanor took a step back as she choked on her own words. “I… I understand, Lord-Regent.”

“Good girl. You are dismissed.”

As Emilia a bit sullen from his remarks began to make for the door he spoke one more time. “And Emilia? I completely understand. I will support you when you ask father.”

Her frown returned to a smile and she nodded as she left the throne room. “Thank you, Will.”

The Lord-Regent waved his hand in a shooing motion, “Yeah, yeah. Go shoot a kobold or something.”

It was with that the younger Valian departed from the throne room, William eyed Ser Irdana who had the biggest and smuggest grin on her face that he had seen in sometime; and he had looked in the mirror this morning! With that done with he looked around at the throne room wondering if he was done bearing this boring and frustrating activity for the day. He placed the goblet back down and let out a slight chuckle. “Father’s not going to be thrilled when we talk about this. But then again, maybe he’ll accept it. It’s been a long time since me and Alex were playing with wood swords in the courtyard. The oaf always beat me, it was totally unfair.”

“I bet I could beat you, and it’d be fair.” Aristal challenged lightly, plucking at her fingers and cleaning underneath her nail.

“That’s not fair, I’m a pretty mundane swordsman! I prefer the bow, really.”

“Well so do I!” Aristal smirked, continuing her endeavor.

“And my sister could outshoot us both, blindfolded. Now, that’s unfair.”

“Can’t win them all I suppose.” Aristal turned to William, her back popping in her seat.

“Ahhh… the restlessness.” She complained.

“Yeah, I’m about done with sitting on a throne for the day. Let’s find us something more productive to do.” William said as he stood up from his seat.

---

House Jamais rose to prominence from a relatively humble beginning. Originally a family of farmers in the northern Luzerne, the rural countryside of the Republic of Violette, the Jamais family tended the land at the confluence of the Jamais Sur and Jamais Nur, two rivers feeding into the Bay of Estporte. Over time, the family's lands, situated at a major trade nexus, became a destination for merchants looking to procure Luzerne foodstuffs from the surrounding territories. The Jamais family capitalized on the opportunity, and began to develop their lands into a small village, with grew larger and larger over time, alongside the family's wealth. Eventually, this village turned city, Confluence, became so rich and the Jamais family so prominent, that they began to be treated as nobles. This was not entirely abnormal in the republic. The lines between the rich and those of noble blood barely existed there. Nobility in Violette, after all, theoretically derived from the secular Violette Senate, a body composed of (wealthy) commoners.

Two hundred years ago, as a gift to secure an alliance with Confluence's ruling family, House Gracieux manipulated the senate to bestow unto the Jamais family a formal noble title: Lords of Confluence. From then on, the now House Jamais served as House Gracieux's most loyal and most powerful vassal, helping to secure the Gracieux's hold over Violette. This, of course, came with an added bonus: House Jamais had exclusivity in Confluence. Unlike in Lalrial, or in many other major cities far outside the republic's boundaries, House Gracieux owns nothing, owns no business and harbours no ambitions for Confluence. It was an arrangement that served House Jamais, and especially their coffers, extremely well. Such was the strength of the Gracieuxs and Jamais' alliance that the second son of the Lord of Confluence, Sourire Jamais, was entrusted to serve as House Gracieux's Prime Magistrate in the Prime Estates in Lalrial.

Sourire brandished his rapier, sliding it through the open Heartlands air in clean thrusts. The blade had been a gift from his father, the Lord of Confluence, and the estate on whose grounds he was now practicing with it were a gift from House Gracieux. It was an enviable location, scenic, and close enough to Lalrial for easy access to Sourire's affairs as Prime Magistrate, without being so close as to attract the common classes that clogged the streets of that city. Where Lalrial was dirty, Jamais Estate was clean.

"A pleasure to see you, Prince Aldrick!" Sourire called out, waving to the Prince as he approached on his horse. Sourire was at the side of a small house located on the estate's grounds, which the son of Lord Jamais enjoyed using for sport. He fancied himself rather good at fencing and archery, and quite competitive. He loved to face challengers from Lalrial's courtly life, and when there was no one to duel with but his servants, Sourire was fond of using the relatively remoted located sporting house for romps with the servant girls, without risk of a guard sending a letter back to the Lord of Confluence. Sourire was forbidden vice, but like all young men, that only made him desire it more. What separated Sourire from his lessers was that he could control himself, both his lust and his desire to win.

As the Prince descend his horse, Sourire greeted him casually. "I don't believe you've ever visited this home of mine before, have you? I've been meaning to take you here for a bit of fun sometime. I've heard you're good with a sword, but I'm betting you couldn't tell a bow from a harp! And when I say betting, I mean that I fully intend to put money on it!"

"I'm just barely off of my horse and you're already trying to start a contest" Aldrick commented with a raised eyebrow. He handed the reigns to a nearby servant as he continued "And its good seeing you as well." His gaze shifted to his surroundings for a bit before returning to Sourire. "Very well. Why don't you go grab that harp and try to convince me its a bow then."

Sourire laughed, boisterously, with a hearty smile. He was somewhat of a short man, with a mousy face, but evidently also quite cheery. "You needn't have even left your horse for me to challenge you. The grounds make for a perfectly fine race track, if you'd prefer that. What's the expression, 'pick your poison'? I'm going to be beating you at something before we have to return to that royal quagmire in the capital, but, guest's privilege, I'll let you pick what!"

"Oh? Will you now?" Aldrick shot him a wide smile. "Well if you are going to be having that kind of attitude then I see no reason to go easy on you." His hand came to rest on the sword's hilt he had sheathed on his hip. "How about we have a friendly duel?" He asked as he drew his blade, revealing the Acithan steel blade. He eyed the blade, its patterns reminiscent of flowing water, before saying "If you beat me I'll give you this blade."

His sword already in hand, Sourire nodded, smirking and getting into position next to Prince Aldrick. "Now, if I hurt you, be sure to scream and cry very loudly and womanly. I want to be sure I notice, so I don't harm you too badly."

"I think its about time I showed you who wears the pants in this relationship!" Aldrick shouted as he lunged forward, thrusting his sword at Sourire's chest. When his attack was parried he quickly pulled back, raising his sword to halt Sourire's overhead swing. The two men kept their blades locked together for a moment before Sourire forced his blade down and to the side. The two men disengaged, backing away and looking for another opening.

This time Sourire initiated the attack, stepping forward and swinging his blade in a wide horizontal attack. Aldrick stepped forward and met the incoming blade with his own, using his superior strength to bring the blade to a halt. He was about to try and force Sourire's blade further to the side so he could make an attack of his own when he heard something approaching.

Trotting lesiurely across the estate was a solid white horse, of Dreibene extraction, heading towards the sporting house from the main building. Riding atop the steed were two exceptionally pretty and somewhat pale young ladies, clearly of Northern extraction, with long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and dressed in very light, airy white gowns. As the horse came to a stop a few feet from the paused duelists, one of the girls cheerily hopped off the horseand ran to Sourire's arms, embracing him lovingly. Sourire sheathed his rapier, awkwardly, around the young maiden, and then held her to him closely, turning his gaze to face the prince.. "Aldrick, I'd like you to meet Alise, a companion of mine here at Jamais Estate. And her lovely young companion..." The second girl on the horse, identical in appearance to the first, exited it more shyly, slowly approaching Prince Aldrick with her hands entwined behind her back. "...is Vanna, her sister. They were born, what was it, five minutes apart?"

Alise kissed Sourie's cheek and corrected, "Six".

"Six! Six minutes apart. Vanna is the younger sister. Been in the Heartland about three months, same amount of time you've spent here I think. Came to visit her sister and decided to stay to have some coin to bring back to her family. We pay our employees well in Violette. Treat our friends and allies even better."

Vanna smiled shyly at Aldrick, withdrawing one of her hands from behind her back to give an awkward wave. "Hi!" she stated, simply, trying to sound enthusiastic as she stood admiring the beautifully crafted steel of the Prince's blade. Evidently she was familiar with Acithan steel. "That sword is beautiful. Are you a warrior?"

Sourire Jamais couldn't contain his sly smile as he led Alise to the horse, climbing onto it alongside his lover and adjusting the steed's direction towards the main estate. "You two should chat, get to know each other. The sport lodge has a bed if you think the grounds are too beautiful to leave for today. Be seeing you!" Without another word, Sourire and Alise rode off, petting amorously as their horse gallopped off towards Sourire's bedchamber.

"All northern men are warriors" Aldrick told Vanna. He waved to Sourire as the other man made his exit.

Vanna shook her head. "I mean a proper warrior. Someone that doesn't farm in the summer and fight in the winter. A professional warrior that lives for battle and supports his family with his blade."

"I'm certainly no farmer" Aldrick said with a chuckle. "And I wouldn't say that I 'live for battle', but I have fought in my fair share of battles and I did so because it was my duty to do so." He slowly sheathed his sword, halting just before the blade was fully hidden from sight to give Vanna one last glimpse.

True to Aldrick's intent, Vanna's eyes were locked on the waves of the Aciithan steel. "I've seen those before I think. You're Acithan, or you bought one of their swords. My mother was from Acitha. She was from the north she said, and she moved to Tellaria to be safe from the Nordheim. She met my father there, on his farm near the border. Have you ever used that sword against one of the barbarians?"

"This sword has only ever tasted Nordheim blood" Aldrick answered. "And I have only fought in the defense of my homeland. Our homeland." With a clank he finished sheathing his sword. "This blade was a gift from my father." He rested his forearm on the hilt of the blade. "As is tradition for all Zarands who come of age."

Vanna raised an eyebrow suspiciously, but nonetheless seemed interested. "You're from House Zarand? Alise told me you were a noble, but this estate's owned by House Jamais, from Violette. I didn't know Veletians and Acithans got along. Prove you're a Zarand! What are your House's words? Who's the King of Acitha?"

"Families aside Sourire and I get along quite swimmingly." He raised an eyebrow at Vanna's request that he prove he was a Zarand. Any noble from a major house would know his House's words and who the king was. "We stand ready. And my father's name is Lorant. Would you care for me to start listing my brothers and sisters?"

"Truth be told I don't know much more than their words and their king! I've only ever left Tellaria to come here and see Alise, and I just went through the Heartlands for that. Acitha's where my mother's from, but she always told me it isn't safe there for people. The Nordheim never stop coming no matter how many of them bleed on your fancy swords. Anyway, what different places have you been to?"

"Its a rugged land" Aldrick agreed. "But we are a rugged people. My travels have been somewhat... limited I suppose you could say. I've been north of the city of Chave, almost crossing into uncivilized lands. Beyond that my travels have been limited to within Acitha and here I suppose. Unlike some of my siblings I don't have the most glorious of tales to tell, but I have done my duty. But enough about me, I'd like to hear a bit about you. How have the southern lands treated you?"

"Oh it's lovely here! Very warm and sunny. And of course there are some advantages to living on a nobleman's estate besides just the pay. Getting to meet dashing young princes, for instance."

"All dashing young princes need a beautiful lady to escort" Aldrick said with a smile, offering her his arm.

Vanna took Prince Aldrick's arm eagerly, a light blush emerging from her soft cheeks, their whiteness making it easier for Aldrick to detect. She laid her head against her newly discovered prince and sighed happily.

---

The inside of the sporting lodge was surprisingly spacious, and seemed, strangely, to have purpose built for exactly the activities Aldrick and Vanna had engaged in inside, and not at all for any kind of sport. Vanna suspected that her engagement with the Prince was not the first time that a man and a woman had enjoyed each other's company here, and she was nearly sure that she was a blood relative of the woman to have first made such a use of the lodge.

"As much as I would love to enjoy your company further" Aldrick said as he brushed an errant strand of hair out of Vanna's face, "I'm afraid I must take my leave." Even as he rose from his bed his eyes revealed a deep desire to remain. "Duty calls" He said, both for her and his own benefit. "But perhaps we can meet again?"

Vanna pouted slightly, and pulled the blankets from her body after the Prince had finished speaking, her pout turning into an incredibly suggestive smile as her naked flesh met the air. "I'd like to talk awhile, if you have any time at all."

"For you?" He reached over and playfully poked her. "I'll make the time." His eyes drifted to her bare form momentarily before focusing on her smile.

The Tellarian girl pulled Prince Aldrick against her, covering the both of them back underneath the covers of the luxurious bed. She stared at the ceiling of the lodge, holding her Prince close. "I would like to be able to live in Acitha one day. To bring my mother back to her homeland and be able to stay there, in safety and in peace. Do you think your family's kingdom will ever be a safe place?"

"Someday we will triumph over the Nordheim" Aldrick said. "And when we do all of the north will be safe. I would like to show you an Acitha at peace" He whispered into her ear before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"How? How will you triumph, and how will you make your lands safe? Is it just a matter of giving a lot of men a lot of swords and attacking them? If it was that easy, why have they persisted so long?"

"There is nothing easy about war. And it is not always the answer. Acitha itself was once an uncivilized land. And now... its a bastion of the Empire in the north." He paused for a moment before reluctantly saying "I'm afraid my duties can wait no longer. I hope you will forgive me."

Vanna nodded solemnly, allowing Prince Aldrick to leave her embrace. "Make me a promise, Prince. Pledge to me that one day, I will be able to visit the birthplace of my mother in safety. Promise me that one day, before I die, Acitha will be safe."

"I shall not rest until our homeland is safe" Aldrick answered with a smile. "You have my word."

---

[Collaboration between myself and Darkspleen.]

The city of Corzina was one of the larger settlements in the north, the second largest in Acitha specifically. In part this was due to the somewhat mild climate which allowed for the growing of wheat and potatoes. More importantly, however, was the fact that Corzina was home to the largest port in Acitha. Hundreds of fishermen called the city home and helped provide more than enough for the city and much of the surrounding lands. And as always Corzina’s ports were a hive of activity as fishing boats and the occasional merchant ship slipped into one of the free spots on the docks, unloaded their goods, and sailed off.

Lynette covered her nose and mouth with her hand in a vain attempt to fend off the horrid stench of fish as she stepped onto one of the city’s many docks. She, and her small party of guards, looked quite out of place amongst the fishmongers and occasional merchant. The first princess of Acitha gazed out at sea as she searched in vain for Jakinius’ ship. Even if she happened to see the ship there was no way she could identify it and, realizing this, she quickly gave up.

It was at this point ship known as Goldeagle cut through the high waves as it made its way into the docking yards of Corzina. Walking out onto the deck Jakinius made a beeline for the railing as to not lose his balance. He hated sailing truth be told. The constant moving and the rolling tides constantly put him at ill ease. Thankfully he had avoided getting sick thus far by Kammeths mercy, but he would be glad when the ship docked for a time in Corzina all the same. The Kuman simply preferred dry land than that of the high seas.

Still he had to admit the Caravel that he had managed to procure was a beautiful vessel built for the strong uncertain seas of the north. The triple masted goliath was a large ship to be sure. It was also faster than Jakinius had first thought. Which likely had to do with its low deck design. Those Veletians truly knew how to build their sailing ships.

Looking over the rail he watched as the port slowly but surely drew nearer. The gold, white, and black of House Valarien's house proudly displayed from the banners adorning the masts. The craft slowed as it finally saddled up to the port. The deck had become a beehive of activity now that they had arrived. Thankfully he did not have to wait long before the gangplank was set down. Jakinius along with Metinnus were some of the first to disembark.

Dressed in his traveling cloak- the hood kept down for now- Jakinius was glad to finally be back on solid ground again so to speak.

Having seen the House Valarien banners, Lynette and her party had hurried to meet Jakinius. They arrived at the dock his ship was occupying just as he was disembarking. The princess took a moment to check her appearance once over, as it wouldn’t due to approach Jakinius unless she was looking her best, before stepping forward to greet him.

“Prince Jakinius” She had to half shout to be heard over the clamour of the docks, “it is an honor to see you again. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It's good to see that you are well” A shield sister, her winged helm indicating her status as a valkyrie, said with a low bow.

Getting his bearings the kuman was surprised, but pleasantly so, to see the a princess of Acitha had come to greet him. The Lioness herself no less! "Princess Lynette of House Zarand," Jakinius began, his strong voice carrying easily over the ambient noise of the port. "A pleasant surprise - I thank you for your kind greeting," inclining his head to both princess and Valkyrie. "The honor is mine truly; I had not expected a greeting in our stop on the way to Lalrial."

"Greeted by two lovely ladies Ser Jakinius? You are the lucky one," Metinnus added with mirth.

The prince hid his smile as he introduced the old veteran, “Ah, and this is Lokhagos Metinnus,” the Lokhagos bowed his head respectively.

Jakinius was about to say something else when a dockhand with a barrel over one shoulder rushed by, forcing the prince to step aside. "Ah, it seems the pier is a poor place to hold a conversation." With a charming smile, he added, "it has not been an overly long journey but I would be grateful for a guide to a less salty atmosphere; and I can think of a no more prestigious a company than that of two warrioresses of Acitha.” His tone was on both respectful and honest.

Lynette flashed Jakinius a warm smile of her own before responding “Forget the salt, I can’t stand the stench of fish for another moment. If you’d like I could show you a nearby tavern. A number of my guards have told me you’d be hard pressed to find better food and drink in the area.” Brushing an idle lock of blonde hair out of her face, the princess turned and led the group away from the docks. Members of the Chaven guard formed an honor guard around her, Jakinius, and Metinnus.

After a few minutes the group arrived at the “Salted Fish Tavern”, the name eliciting a wide smile from the Valkyrie. Lynette, for her part, simply shook her head before giving Jakinius a ‘shall we?’ look.

With practiced ease Jakinius did not miss a beat, walking toward the tavern doors and opening the portal. Inclining his head toward the princess he said, "After you my lady."

Metinnus almost rolled his eyes. The prince's long time in the north had yet to erode his teachings from his squire years. Many in the Company had jested about the topic more than once. Something that seemed to have never phased the young kumen those years back.

“Thank you my lord” Lynette said before she and the Valkyrie stepped into the tavern. The two women quickly found an unoccupied table in the corner and was already ordering the establishment’s finest beer for all four of them.

“We shall be out here” One of the Chaven guards said to Jakinius. “Just call if you have need for us.”

The ordered beer arrived just as the prince and Metinnus reached the table, a testament to the tavern’s high quality of service. Interestingly there were few other customers, possibly due to them all being out at sea. “I’m glad to see that the north hasn’t stripped you of all those years of etiquette training or whatever you soft southern nobles do in your free time.”

“So tell me, my lord” Lynette said before taking a drink. “What are your travel plans? Sea or land?”

Jakinius gave a chuckle, "My tutors made sure to all but beat the codes of chivalry the Kumen followed into my thick skull. I admit it does not have many uses on the border lands as it does in the south." He took the served mug of ale, "The Nordheim seem to give little care to how well versed we are in courtesy. "

Metinnus was already draining his mug, he smacked his lips after giving a heartfelt sigh. "That they don't, thankfully we common folk don't have to waste much time learning court politics." He then added turning to Lynette, "Tis no small honor to meet Princess Lynette herself, I might say. The Lioness of the North is well known among even the garrisons in The Septentrion."

The Prince nodded, “As for plans I hope to sail as far as Mephori before going the rest of the way by land. I have little love for long sea voyages as it is and it would be the quickest route. And you my lady? I assume our meeting is not a coincidence? I imagine you must be on your way to the capital same as us.”

She raised her mug in salute to Metinnus before answering the Prince “You are correct. As I see it I have two choices. Pay for a fisherman to sail me to Mephori or see if I could take up some space on your fancy ship. My associate and I” She gestured towards the Valkyrie, “would very much appreciate being spared the shame of the former.”

“And if nothing else” The princess continued, “I would cherish the opportunity to travel with the man most likely to be my next emperor.”

“I’ll drink to that!” The Valkyrie raised her mug in a toast.

"I would never dream of denying you a voyage in comfort Lady Lynette, of course, room should be easily enough found for you and your comrade," He took a drink from his mug before adding. "But I fear you may be overly generous in your estimations when it comes to the gilded throne. No doubt my cousin's, brother, and sisters are already making promises to every Arch Elector who will listen." He shook his head, "barely time to mourn our father before they scramble to take his seat..."

A somber moment of silence followed before Jakinius decided to change the subject. "But how have you and Acitha fared these past months milady if you don't mind me asking? Long since have I set foot in your country and reports rarely detail much beyond a raid fought off here or a village near burned down there. To easy to see the numbers but not think of people they represent."

“We’ve been holding our own” Lynette said with a shrug. “It’s a tough life living up at the northern border, and not just because of the heathens, but they are a tough people. They rebuild. They always do.” The princess seemed to space out for a moment, her thoughts taking her far away from the tavern in which they sat. “But some of the things I’ve seen out there…” She couldn’t help but shiver. “Thankfully the nordheimer haven’t managed to come too far south. Certainly not past Chave, so they haven’t hit a major town. Yet.”

The Valkyrie winced before commenting “We’ve been feeling the diminishing Imperial presence up here. No offense intended of course.”

Jakinius waved his hand, "No offense taken, in fact, I would be surprised if there was not some disquiet- or- at least, disappointment given the situation with the lack of imperial presence."

The prince sat straighter as he continued, something of a fire in his eyes, "In fact that is the only reason I leave for Lalrial at all. I have walked through Frostmouth keep and while it is indeed an impressive castle; walls are of little avail if there are not enough men to man them."

Metinnus patted Jakinius on the back, "I can think of no more capable a man to set things right- don't you doubt it." he drained the last of his mug. "But Kammeth burn high! The north does know its ales? Far better than that shabby southern wine the highborn in the capital fancy."

"You never did have much a taste for wine did you?" Jakinius turned his attention back to Lynette. "I am glad you have managed to keep order, Sounds like nothing worse than the White Narkak incursion we dealt with two years back." That event had been a particularly nasty vilespawn hoard from the north. Perhaps driven onward by some tribe displacing them. It had been the first real threat the north had encountered in a long time.

It had taken the combined efforts of a group of shield sisters, Lynette and an imperial company headed by Jakinius to subdue the beasts and drive them out.

“I can’t help but feel that we are overdue for another major incursion” Lynette commented. The White Narkak incursion was not an ordeal she would forget soon. Although Jakinius and Lynette had held the line it had been a close thing. Too close. “And I fear that southern politics” She almost spat out the word, “could weaken us up here greatly. The last thing I need is for the shield sisters to be pulled to the south to deal with some minor heretical outcropping on the Inquisition’s behalf.” The Valkyrie raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment on the subject.

Jakinius look was grim. "I hope you're wrong Milady... but I have been sensing the same thing. Something is coming and I don't think the North let alone the empire is ready..."

Metinnus, meanwhile, seemed immediately concerned with the state of his mug. "Aye, I can't say I have not gotten that feeling as well. Still little we can do about it till we reach the capital. To that end..." he signaled for a refill to a passing bar wench. "Our ships is due for taking off tomorrow morning. I for one plan to be --pardon the language, my lady," he nodded to Lynette, "very shit faced by morning. No doubt we'll be drowning in politics soon enough, may as well enjoy good company and a strong drink while we can!"

Jakinius only shook his head and smiled. You can take a soldier from the north but not the north from the soldier. "I would not mind drinking to that."

---

The great Keep of Flame was the very heart, mind, and soul of the Church of the Sacred flame. Built into the Velathi Mountain to the north of the Imperial Capital of Lalrial. The towering spires rose high into the clouds as if they had been built solely as a form of a bridge to the heavens themselves. Built into the citadel was an observatory of modest design. The location granting the perfect view of the celestial bodies.

In the highest floor of the great spire built into the heart of the citadels keep was the grand chamber of light. It was a circular room of generous size. A domed ceiling above with chimneys strategically placed above burning braziers. The chamber of light was always warm regardless of the season or weather.

Made to resemble the holy Symbol of Kammeth. The room centered wound a smaller circle painted on the ground that was pierced by eight red lines. At the end of each of these red lines, a chair of stone was built. Seven of the eight chairs were occupied. The seven men and women made up the members of the fabled Elder Council. They were dressed in silver robes, with two long golden lines running down the front. The symbol of Kammeth was emblazoned upon the center of their backs. Long hoods hide the faces of most of the men and women. Each was a powerful cleric of Kammeth in their own right.

They'res was the very will of Kammeth made manifest. Known as the lords of light by the common folk. Yet they were but one aspect of his physical representation on the mortal plane. For divided now we're they form who among their number they were to pick to be the new voice of Kammeth himself. The selection seemed to have fallen on one, the only member not present.

"She is too young!" voice the aged though respected Lord of Light Duvigio Celaagia. "She has walked in the light of Kammeth's glory for too little time."

"Brother Duvigio, please, you well know that there is more to Kammeth's favor than mere experience." Came the calm gentle voice of Sister Rosellae. "I foresee much potential in her."

"Long you have favored, Tsi'Ri Tlaerie, Sister Rosellae. Yet we must be pragmatic in our choice, " responded the stern counsel of brother Decch, his strong voice booming in the chamber in such a way they echoed. Well befitting a northerner if his larger than normal stature was not hint enough to his origin. "She is from a zealous house to be sure. But zealous minds need to be tempered by wisdom."

"An understandable opinion, one most sensible," Reband Artean was the youngest by far, only Tsi'Ri was younger by a single year. "However these are troubling times. The faith will need a mind ready for the coming trials ahead, the Long Night fast approaches! It is perhaps time to appoint one with some fire in their blood."

"You speak as if we are to fight the coming darkness with holy immolation Brother Reband!" came the predicted response of Duvigio.

"Enough," the voice of the only one who had not spoken thus far surprised the others enough that they heeded the command. Noluretinaus was among the most powerful in the faith present. As capable a warrior as he was a speaker. It was said he had single-handedly slain a cyclops who had attacked his escort years ago by smiting the vilespawn with a single pillar of fire. Many recognized him as the most sincere in his beliefs thus the council often valued his input above all else. "We shall but waste time with words when we should be leaving this discussion to one whose authority is beyond all reproach."

He looked around the circle before continuing, "We shall call for a trial of fire."

The hushed gasp from all his peers followed then silence before finally, Duvigio was the first to speak. "I admit reservations to letting Sister Tsi'Ri take the mantle...but I would never condemn her to certain death!"

Rosellae nodded, "This does seem extreme."

"These are extreme times," Noluretinaus said grimly.

"I am in agreement, I believe wholeheartedly in her candidacy, Kammeth’s light will shine upon her. I know it," Borther Reband's tone was that of utter confidence.

There was more bickering and more arguing before it was at last decided that a Trial by Fire would be the best solution. So they sent word to allow sister Tsi'Ri to enter and stand in the center of the great chamber.

She had sat with poise and dignity. Her head folded down and her hands lifted up in prayer, both to the gods she had known since her birth in Meletis and the one who she knew reigned over them. Whispered musical words of prayer were the only sounds that broke the stillness as she waited. The others would choose soon and she needed to be strong.

At last, a hand settled upon her robed shoulder and she was bidden to rise. The decision had been made. It would not do to show her fear or unease. If she had been chosen it would be her duty to serve and with faith she would prevail. Silver skin and hair glinted slightly beneath her hood as she rose from her sitting position of prayer.

With poise and dignity, the lone Sister walked from the antechamber into the great room. She moved slowly and with the natural grace her people so often possessed before halting in the very center and kneeling down before her fellows. “Brothers, Sisters, this one humbly awaits your judgment” Her voice had the musical lilt of all pureblood vaelie but it was softer and less practiced, she had not used its magic in years, those were not the tools of Kammeth.

As was often the case it was Brother Noluretinaus who spoke, "The Council of Elders has convened and a decision been made. It is the place of the nobles and common men to bicker and vote like the blind. To argue with themselves and seek to bribe and blackmail. So as the Council is split we will appeal to the highest authority, the one true judge whose wisdom is far greater than a thousand kings."

"A Trial of Fire Sister Tsi'Ri. We will submit you to his wisdom by his holy flames. Should you emerge unscathed and untouched - then it will be beyond all doubt you are worthy to be his voice to his people. To advise the Emperor to come in all matters of faith. These trials have only ever been performed eight times before. And if you emerge you will no longer be Tsi'Ri of House Tlaerie. Your old life will be burnt away by Kammeth's holy fires, consider all loyalties to House and even nation to be but memories. Ashes to be swept in the wind before the eternal will of Kammeth the one true King. "

"If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind let it be known, for the flames will not suffer uncertainty. "

He waited to see if Tsi'Ri would change her mind if she would hesitant or turn away. None would blame her if she was not yet ready for the kiss of Kammeth's fires or his judgment.

For a second when Noluretinaus spoke of the Trial of Fire there was a flicker of uncertainty that danced upon the silver skin of Tsi’Ri’s obscured face. But it was gone in a moment as she steadied herself, reaching for the well of faith inside that had always been her strength and support in times of need. It was not for her to worry, it was not for her to decide, the fire on high was the truest judge and he alone knew if she was ready.

“I was born to serve the sacred flames of silver and gold, but even in their service, I did not find solace. For there was one greater even than they. I came to you with naught but the faith and the desire to learn.” Her voice was steady and did not waver.

“And then you raised me up to sit beside you. I did not believe I was ready but you had faith in me. Now you would raise me again. Do I doubt myself? I doubt myself every day. For I am merely mortal. But do I doubt that the one above knows my measure and will choose me if it is his will? Never once. I will stand before the fire and if it is his will, I will live to serve him still.” Then her head bowed again and Tsi’Ri fell silent.

The smallest hint of a rare smile seemed to glint under the hood of Brother Noluretinaus before it vanished just as quickly, "Well spoken. Then let faith be as your shield. For there is none greater. Let the light be your path. As there is no more sure a road. Let the fires be as a baptism that strips all that would weigh upon you. Denounce all titles, surrender the rights of land propriety promised by your noble blood. For the treasures of the world are but as ash when compared to the glory that awaits us at the side of Kammeth. When you walk through the fire you will be born anew like the phoenix. You will no longer be Tsi'Ri. But a new name shall be whispered to you by Kammeth's voice himself. This will be your new name to christen your rebirth."

At that, he fell silent and clasped his hands together. The others in the council followed suit.

"We do not fear the flames, for they are our salvation," Noluretinaus began in prayer.

"We do not fear the flames, for they are our salvation," came the echoing response of his peers in perfect unison. They began to pray in step, their words taking on an almost supernatural quality. This was akin to magic but also very unlike it as it held a power no mage could mimic. As they chanted there appeared a translucent wall of light that surrounded Tsi'Ri. Then another larger than the first, then finally the third wall of light came into being-- shining like barely visible barriers encircling one after the next.

As the chanting continued and picked up speed the braziers positioned by the chambers wall began to flicker as the fires within them seemed to climb, no crawl up the very walls. Like orange and red fingers they swept upwards as if they possessed a will of their own. These eight points of flame met in the center of the domed ceiling. The fires growing and slowly changing with every moment that passed.

Then the chanting prayer took on a very different air. The chamber became thick with some presence that weighed upon the shoulders. As if the very force keeping them all to the ground had become stronger without seeming reason. The air grew heavier as well, the swirling fires above taking on a new color that was a mix of silver white gold and blue opal. A shape took form as the vague semblance of a great bird became faintly clear.

Then without warning the bird of fire gave a soundless cry and descended right down in a sudden pillar of silver fire. Right onto the woman that had once been Tsi'Ri. Such was the roaring of the fires that if there had been any cry of alarm or pain it was easily drowned out. Yet the chanting could still be heard as clear as daylight. The fires were nearly as bright as the sun itself. Surely nothing could have survived such intense flames. None of the Elder dared look into the light, for such would have assured permanent blindness.

The prayer continued, all the same, the fires growing so great that the first barrier of light collapsed, then quickly followed the second. Thankfully the last barrier held strong as the fires began to die down in both intensity and size. White smoke wafted upward and some within the council felt their heart sink, thinking surely Tsi'Ri had been found unworthy after all...

However, there standing proudly as before was the women once called Tsi'Ri. Her robes gone and long since burnt to ash, but her beautiful silver skin was unscathed, even her hair was untouched.

Brother Noluretinaus seemed the only one present who did not seem shocked by this outcome. As if he had truly expected her to succeed all along. "Rise now sister, rise and speak the name you have been gifted. For on this day, Tsi'Ri has died, and been reborn anew."

As her golden hair freed from the confines of her robe spread around her body like a halo in the light and her gleaming skin shone the woman smiled and then spoke the words that she had heard, “Filmethi Dalfire.”

Apartments of the Amrothan Prime Magistrate, Lalrial.

It was not exactly the height of the morning, but Lothar's expected guest Sourire Jamais had foregone, most understandably, a meeting that would fall far too early either. As a consequence, the myriad rooms that made up the Amrothan Prime Magistrate's accommodation, and by extension Lothar's own were still quiet. He had been surprised to find Charlotte had risen already and headed out, loyal Bannerguard in toe, but of course he did not begrudge her some free time amongst the myriad attractions of the capital.

He had risen early and tended to the most pressing matters. Letters continued to flow in abundance, though mostly concerned with minutiae or were for the eyes of Deiter - who had already, uncharacteristically early - departed for his office, though he assured him he would perform the necessary duties of a welcome. It had given him time to think and time to prepare. He had at least given the thought to put on something appropriate for the occasion, though he was sure any Veletian would consider it somewhat casual, nonetheless, that was how they expected the Amrothan, and he was not one to disappoint.

He had seen that Deiter's own somewhat cluttered general purpose room, now cleared and cleaned for the coming meetings that Lothar himself would no doubt have here, was up to standard. It left only the most notable of decorations, some gifts from House Valian, a few souvenirs from Dreiben, but it was comfortable, and he had come to like, perhaps too much, the softer seating the cushioned armchairs provided. No doubt that was their intent.

The sounds of an approaching party and the customary barks and shouts let him know that his time of diplomacy had begun to draw near. He trusted that Deiter would greet his fellow Prime Magistrate in good order.

Sourire Jamais arrived alone and on foot, dressed relatively casually, in the normal sort of semi-formal attire he'd wear to meetings of the Prime Estate. The Veletian noble had worked with Deiter, House Amrothan's Prime Magistrate, for more than long enough to know that fancy outfits and expensive gifts were wasted on the horse people of the western plains. Violette and Dreiben had an understanding to never understand one another.

"Deiter! The most humble of the Prime Magistrates! I would say the austerity of this place surprises me but it'd be a flagrant lie. If you have any spare cousins, my father would adore to have someone from a family with such a penchant for prudency as his steward. Kammeth knows if I was in charge of the family's finances we'd be bankrupt in a week, and chased out of Confluence by an angry mob in another!" Sourire wrapped his arms around Deiter and closed in for a friendly hug, patting the Dreibene noble's back.

Deiter was dressed partially for work and partially for comfort - yet even with such thought to a matter of formality, the Veletian managed, most likely without trying, tp outdo him on that front. He smiled the friendly smile that came from a familiarity bred from work and the all too necessary socialising, and returned the welcome in kind.

"Ah Sourire, You should try living on the Triangle Plain for 6 months with naught but your horse and what Lyriel deigns to give, it makes even the humblest home seem like extravagance." He said, extricating himself from the welcome and standing tall, smiling still. "I do believe most of my cousins are taken, both in the bedroom and in affairs of employment, but I shall keep an open ear for your father's sake, and your own, I very much expect I would have a nightmare emerging from Flusstadt if Confluence were to end up with its premiere family in such dire financial straits." He continued, drawing back just a step and motioning to the entrance he had positioned himself near. Knowing such a universal gesture would be understood, he began to move towards it, as a Bannerguard deftly came into view and opened it for them both.

"My brother will no doubt be interested in what you have to say, though I expect much of the capital will already have discerned what the Prime Magistrates have been conversing with the nobles about these past few days. I trust Violette's position on the election is as steadfastly in favour of Ralltene as I've been informed?" He asked, continuing the walk and talk as they entered the building, greeted by stairs - much of the downstairs of this section of buildings had been converted for storage or other uses, a practical matter that Deiter had inherited from his predecessor and mostly maintained - he cast a look back as he began to climb the stairs, doing the courtesy of showing nonetheless an interest in an answer largely known.

Sourire followed Deiter leisurely, not bothering to take in the sights from assurance there was nothing to see. "No, I'm afraid that's false. We're actually far more steadfast in favour of Ralltene than you've been informed. The Duchess's marriage to the man obviously has something to do with that. I think it's more likely that everyone in House Amrothan is secretly a Drathii spy than it is that Victoria will be voting for anyone but Ralltene."

Deiter chuckled slightly, reaching the top of the stairs and entering a smaller room that was largely intended for cloaks, boots and other items of necessity that were too valuable to leave outside, but typically too cumbersome or dirtied to be taken further. "I see our greatest secret has been revealed to the Veletian Prime Magistrate at last. I trust you will keep our Drathii loyalties quiet, for the sake of the realm." He responded, throwing in a wink to Sourire while inspecting his own footwear for unwelcome outside influences. Satisfied they were suitably clean, they remained on. He gave Sourire the courtesy of the time to use the cloak room for any of his own purposes before opening a door and moving down a largely spartan hallway - though the rug underneath was uncharacteristically rich, its horse motif giving away its Dreibene origin - a moment later, Deiter stopped at yet another door, giving it a light rap with his knuckles and opening it a moment later.

"Sourire Jamais, Prime Magistrate for House Gracieux, as expected, Bannerlord." Deiter stated, moving swiftly to allow Sourire to enter and to simultaneously remove himself from primacy. Lothar nodded his acknowledgement at Deiter, before turning his gaze to Sourire, granting him the acknowledgement of a deeper, respectful bow of the head that was a greeting from one noble to another, irrespective of any difference in standing. He walked forward from his position at the window, now behind him, returning to the cluster of furniture that made up the main feature of the room.

"Punctual, Magistrate Jamais, though I expected no less. Come, sit with me, and we shall talk of matters most unfortunately political, though I must confess it has given me cause to think of the future." Lothar said, motioning with his free hand towards the seating he had come to enjoy and the discussion of matters that now concerned the entire Empire.

The Veletian Prime Magistrate took his seat, folding his fingers in his lap and leaning forward slightly, his eyes trained on Lothar. "I would imagine that it is superbly obvious to you what my intentions are in coming here." he began, getting right down to business.

Lothar nodded, sitting and making himself comfortable. "Of course, my house holds a vote. You seek to know of its investiture. You no doubt hope to convince me to back Ralltene if I have already decided it should be placed with one of the other contenders. I will extend you the courtesy of the knowledge that I have not yet made that decision." Lothar offered, stated simply, allowing a moment before continuing.

"I have spent some time thinking on the matter, as well as speaking with those I trust to advise me fairly. In these times I would be lacking in wisdom to invest myself and the potential future of my house, let alone the entire empire, in people I yet no little of. I am, thus, highly interested in hearing what you have to say." Lothar finished, allowing his gaze to meet Sourire's, his posture attentive, but informal.

"There are two candidates that possess any realistic possibility of being crowned, excepting any of the former Emperor's third cousins attempting a coup. You are no doubt familiar with both of them, and their reputations. There is Ralltene, husband of Duchess Victoria, and Jakinius. Two sons of the same man with very different values and very different perspectives on the realm. Before I attempt to make any case, I would like to hear what the Bannerlord of Dreiben already knows. What have you heard of Jakinius and of Ralltene thus far? What do you, personally, believe to be each of their strengths?"

Lothar considered the two contenders for a moment, thinking upon what he knew and filtering what he knew to be unfounded rumour. The end result still felt woefully uninformed.

"Jakinius.. a soldier, a cavalryman of some measure at that, I believe. He was regarded as favoured somewhat in what opportunities life has extended to him, but has in turn devoted himself to the battles that rage in the north. I had considered him to be a poor option, no doubt eager to drag the Empire into one final conclusive march on the unbounded north and its Nordheim. Yet after some thought it is a judgement that I have too quickly made. Battle changes a man, makes him re-evaluate what is important. Until I hear him speak in the capital I will not rule him out. He possesses the noble attributes of strength and courage, a proven leader of sorts, if I am informed correctly, with a certain impetus for justice. If it has been tempered with wisdom he may yet prove himself to be a worthy candidate for Emperor." Lothar responded, turning his thoughts to Ralltene.

"Ralltene, of course, is similar to his father, though distinguished in his own way, with a mind to the mercantile. I profess a certain ignorance to the intricacies of the matters of the treasury, but a strong realm is founded on the underpinnings of economics. Some would say this alone would make Ralltene a suitable candidate, perhaps they would be right. He has been described to me as a "different kind of same" - and while House Amrothan and myself respect the value of the status quo - I would measure such a thing against the standards of the time and the potential gain inherent in change, if it were to come. Ralltene is a well travelled man, with some attendant skill, I would gather, in the matters diplomatic, while his mercantile prowess is already spoken for and no doubt refined by his ties and time in Violette." Lothar paused once more, before continuing.

"Both have attachments to different Houses. Such attachments bring complications. A choice of either will elevate their position, even if only for the short term. At worst, in a manner of speaking, it possibly gives them free reign to whatever end that may be. Despite your statement, I believe at least several other electors will consider that Allianna has some standing in this race even if for that reason alone. It may yet cause a sufficient division in the vote. Yet that is secondary to our present course of discussion." Lothar added, offering up the lead of the discussion back to Sourire.

"Jakinius is a martial man, and Ralltene a mercantile man. Who one considers the favourable choice depends on what one imagines the role of Emperor to mean, to entail. It has always been my perspective that an Emperor's most important asset is not his ability at swordplay, but his ability to make the realm prosper. The sort of courage necessary in an Emperor is not the sort of courage necessary in a warrior. Warriors need to accept that when they fight, there is the possibility that they will die. Their courage is in that acceptance, in knowing that although they might die, their death will serve grander purpose. An Emperor, though, embodies all of Ethica. For the man on the phoenix throne, a warrior's courage, the acceptance of mortality, is foolhardiness. The Empire cannot die. There is no sacrifice to be made that is worthy of the fall of Ethica. And just as an Emperor's personal conduct is not bolstered by the virtues of the warrior, neither is his leadership. Ruling a kingdom is not the same task as ruling an army. In war, there is an enemy you must defeat, and your role as a ruler is to defeat him. To rule an entire empire of a dozen nations; I would never insinuate that the task of a soldier or a general is a simple one, but it is not half so multi-faceted and so compelling of thought, of cause and effect, as the task of an Emperor. I am willing to give the benefit of the doubt to my cook each morning that he will not burn my breakfast because it is only a single meal, and he has cooked it hundreds of times before. Ethica is more important, though, than poached eggs, and Jakinius has never ruled anything in the same category as an Empire—he is not the prized chef that Ralltene is. You are a wise ruler that no doubt prides yourself on your contemplative patience, but there is a point at which refusing to act is not a display of patience but negligence. It is safe to give Jakinius the benefit of the doubt that his speech upon arrival in the capital will not be all about the need to muster forth every able-bodied man in the realm and march them into the Webwood. But it is not safe to give him the benefit of the doubt that he has the wisdom necessary to temper his strength and rule Ethica effectively."

"While I may disagree with some of your preconceptions, I do not disregard your points... Sourire, if I may be so familiar, you have been sent to speak to me on this matter of politic on behalf of House Gracieux, and I would request, if I may, their own views on the matter. I need not hear any more speak of the failings or strengths, true or otherwise, of Ralltene or Jakinius. Let us be forthright, What does Gracieux hope to gain - truly, without the honeyed words - from Ralltene's ascendancy. I would ask of you too, why of all Houses, mine should be inclined to grant them the support they seek from sending you to speak with me. It is true we share an economic interdependency of sorts, and by no means do we share a dislike for each other, but we are not as firm a friend in the court as could perhaps be. This brings such questions to the fore of my mind." Lothar leaned forward slightly, bringing his hands clasped together, letting his gaze remain on Sourire.

Sourire returned Lothar's gaze. "There is more than one threat that faces the Empire. Talk of the Nordheim is abound, but not of the Drathii, or of the numerous other hostile peoples of the multiple foreign nations on multiple foreign continents that threaten Ethica. All of these threats have a single factor in common, a military one, but one that only Ralltene—with Violette's support—could hope to effectively manage. During the beginning of the Great Drathii War, Ethica's naval forces encountered the invasion fleet before it landed. But, because the Imperial Navy was and is disunited and underfunded, it was not the Imperial Navy that encountered the vessels, but whalers of Aeche. We cannot fight off foreign invaders with harpoons and whaling vessels, or with a decrepit, disunited, and long neglected Imperial Navy. Victoria, once Empress Consort, wishes to stabilize the North along a natural defensive perimeter, and divert saved resources towards forming a unified and strong Imperial Navy. The Veletian Marine will be absorbed in its entirety into this naval force, which shall be placed under joint Imperial-Veletian administration. Our shores will be safe from all external threats, and we will be able to smite any and all invaders before they even make landfall. Zero civilian casualties and no damage whatsoever to infrastructure. This would obviously benefit Violette a great deal, offering the experienced sailors of the Veletian Republic their merit-due place as defenders of Ethica's borders. Equally so, it would benefit Dreiben. Our interdependence, which you brought up earlier, would see to that. But most importantly of all, it is a way to increase the security of the realm without endangering her great houses, another priority of the Gracieux's. A strong Imperial Army can used against House Amrothan or House Gracieux as easily as it can be used against the Nordheim, if not more easily. A navy, on the other hand, cannot be used as a tool of subjugation. Not only would the realm's territorial integrity be sustained, but also the stability of her political structure. All of the benefits of centralization without any of the drawbacks."

"So House Gracieux seeks to wrest control of the direction of the Imperial Navy, foregoing any niceties that may be placed around it." Lothar said, simply. "Understandable, I am not completely ignorant of political want and need. It is however likely to have the Mivaen's complaining to all who will listen, if not other houses who may see Graceiux control, no matter how shared or beneficent, as a direct escalation of Violette's desire to control trade. As I say, it is perfectly understandable, and somewhat less politically charged than other courses of action. Nevertheless, I'm sure the Starborn envoy in Reiterburg will consider me first on his list of people to complain to. I am dreadfully averse to the hearing of the complaints of dignitaries, as I'm sure you understand." Lothar smiled, a genuine but obvious admission. "I appreciate your directness, and there is some merit to what you have presented. I would be remiss, however, to not at least hear what Jakinius has to say, and I'm sure Allianna's perspective, even if secondary, is a courtesy I should at least extend. You can consider my interest peaked, of a sort, but I am hesitant to guarantee my support for Ralltene without as complete a picture as I can gain. It is.. shall we say, unpleasant to speak of, but there too may be more offered to we Amrothan than a guarantee of the continued prosperity we already share. Distasteful, but the core of the dance that is so often played out by our collective houses when they reach earshot of the capital it seems. I'm sure Duchess Gracieux of all people understands that perspective."

Sourire nodded, standing from his chair and reaching out his hand to shake Lothar's. "It was pleasant to meet you, Bannerlord. I hope you come to the decision that will best serve your people and your House, and I hope to continue my productive professional relationship with Deiter in the Prime Estates."

Lothar took Sourire's hand and shook it in a tried and tested display of diplomacy, casting a glance at the silent figure Deiter had become in the back of the room. "The pleasure is mine, Magistrate Jamais. I could make it a standing order, but I doubt Deiter has any reason to find fault with yourself in the affairs of the Prime Estate. Do extend my best wishes to House Gracieux. If the Duchess would be so kind as to pass on my love to my Nieces in the charge of her house I would be grateful." He nodded at Deiter, who made ready to escort Sourire, before returning his sight to Sourire and inclining his head as both a mark of respect and a dismissal.

He watched for a moment as the man left, before rising and making his way back to the window, letting his eyes peer into the beating heart of the Empire, the Imperial City, Lalrial, as if searching for some wisdom in the movement of the people, the wisps of smoke.

"Interesting times indeed."

There was a warm glow cast upon the stone walls of the room from the crackling and burning hearthfire in the center of the room. The light and shadows danced around the room with no restraint, leaping from one wall to the next, from putting on a show for all those who cared enough to stop and watch. Jahn found himself in the position of observer and audience member, fully appreciately the unique simplicity of something that would be so quickly ignored by nearly any other person. The fact that he was even standing within this room was odd, even to him, and perhaps best represented him finally coming full circle. It was true, of course, that he had grown up within these walls, and within this city, considering how entrenched his father was in northern politics, especially when it came to assisting his cousin, Eldrik, with such matters of state and security. When he recalled those memories, which seemed to be on a much less frequent basis as the years have gone by, most of what he remembered was the stuffiness and pressure that he constantly felt from it all, and the biggest reason why he was so eager to leave it all behind in the first place. But now he wasn't just back in Nordevar, the land of his birth, but also its capital city, Last Vigil, which happened to be a place devoid of much of the corruption that could be found in the southern provinces, all thanks to his cousin, Eldrik. Strangely enough, based on Jahn's past activities within the last ten years, it would be accurate to consider himself a fish out of water within his own homeland, and perhaps also added another reason to why he was so hesitate to ever return to this place.

Obviously, he hadn't returned only based on a whim, though he wasn't unknown to do a lot of things for little or no reason. His father, Crevan, had been one of the most influential men in the North, both militarily and politically, and his death only a year and a half ago had impacted Jahn much more than he ever realized that it could. His relationship with his father had been considerably constrained in the final years before his departure from Last Vigil and all of Nordevar, a division that was never repaired in the years following. It was something that Jahn regretted, and maybe also one of the few events in his life that he wished he could do all over again. Coming back to Nordevar itself was just a way to find some kind of closure, and by doing so, removing any reason to ever come back here ever again, and be able to move on with the life that he had made for himself in the time since. Despite the ill-feelings most would assume he had for his father due to the circumstances, the reality was that he truly had love for his father, enough to know that he'd never be like him, despite Crevan believing adamantly that he could change Jahn. The estrangement was certainly a result of the clash of their two personalities, and neither had any intention of changing for the other. If any good came from the death of his father, it was the opportunity to truly reflect on it all for one last time.

But now he was at the Winter Palace, the seat of House Borvringska for thousands of years, from when they were kings of Nordevar to what they were now- mere lords. He had no intention of being within the palace, but he had been approached by men sworn to his cousin, Lord Eldrik, and he hardly could openly refuse the invitation. He could have easily entered the city under a disguise or something of that sort, but he had no intention to avoid detection whilst visiting the grave of his father. Even so, it was a surprise when he was brought to the palace, considering that Eldrik and Jahn had never been very close, partially because of the significant age difference between two, but also due to Eldrik's close relationship with Jahn's father, which he had been jealous of all those years ago, but that was far in the past.

Now he was in the Winter Palace, staring at the shadows on the wall, waiting for Eldrik to finally come and greet him. He took a drink from his pewter goblet that was filled with northern ale, sure to put hair on the chest of any wine-drinker down south. At of the corner of his eye, he analyzed and absorbed everything, especially the household guards that were stationed at critical points of the room, mostly doors and exits. Finally, after the lengthy wait, Eldrik himself entered the room, flanked by two guards who quickly took to their posts once he got closer to Jahn. He took a seat directly across from Jahn, at the old giant oaken table.

The years hadn't been exactly kind to Eldrik, but that wasn't completely negative to say. Though his hair was clearly graying, it sort of suited him, and made Jahn look far younger than he actually was, in comparison. Both their gray-blue eyes met each other, and were locked for what seemed like an eternity. It had been such a long time since they were in each other's presence, after all.

“It's been awhile, hasn't it?” Elrik said, his voice sounding much more gravelly than Jahn had last remembered. There was no doubt it had been such a long time since they last met, but Jahn had no reason to return, nor any desire to, except perhaps to see his father for one last time. That hardly mattered anymore though. He simply nodded at Elrik's statement.

Jahn relaxed more into this chair before he spoke, “It has. There's no denying that, of course. I do doubt, however, the reasoning to why you went to all the trouble of bringing me here. Surely it can't just be to catch up on old times?” There had to be an ulterior motive behind Eldrik's actions, he could smell it, and Eldrik that wasn't particularly skilled in hiding his intentions from others, and Jahn knew this.

Eldrik partially smiled at those words. “Straight to the point. One of the very few qualities that I actually appreciate in you, Jahn. But I agree, idle conversation can be saved for later. Have a look at this.” Eldrik pulled a letter with a broken seal from his clothing and handed it to Jahn. As he opened it, it was clearly an imperial document, something that he had see more than often enough, in his line of work. It detailed the death of the Emperor, something that he had heard rumors of as he passed through several towns and cities on his journey to Last Vigil. Rumors of the death of an emperor were common enough, and he never paid much attention to any of it until he had actual confirmation of it. His death had to have been fairly recent, otherwise he would have been informed of it long ago, like anything else.

“I have no intention to gratify the death of any man, but it must be said that there was no love between the emperor and I. His attention was focused upon his own personal interests, and not where it should have been- combating threats of the Empire, which currently exists on the northern frontier. His death, as sad as it might be, leaves us an opportunity to steer the Empire onto the correct course.”

Jahn laid the letter back onto the table and took another drink of his ale. He was well aware of the troubles Eldrik faced when it came to maintaining security on the northern border, he even had to deal with the problems himself when he personally fought against the barbarian tribes before he left Nordevar many years ago. Currently, he had spent a signficant amount of time within the Imperial Capital, and fully realized the lack of concern that was present. Still, Jahn was an odd man for Eldrik to confide with and divulge all this information to. He has been involved with a variety of different activities that helped him acquire a considerable amount of wealth on his own, ranging from smuggling to brothels. Though, in the view of most Northmen, whores weren't such a bad thing.

Eldrik continued. “As I see it, the successor must be Jakinius. I've fought with him on many occasions, and I know he would be committed to returning the Imperial garrisons back to full strength, and even expand-”

Jahn had risen his hand to interrupt Eldrik mid-sentence. “This is all interesting to hear, but it just makes me curious why you're confiding all this with me? It's been a very long time since we've spoken, and even then I doubt you would have told me anything of significance. Why now?”

Eldrik gave another half-smile. “Because I intend for you to lead the delegation. Don't get me wrong. I agree with almost nothing that you've done with your life, but even then, I'm well aware that you're no fool. You wouldn't be in the position that you are in now if you didn't know how to work things around to your favor, something that may very well be vital in the upcoming election for Emperor. I have no thirst for such politics, and I know my place is better spent here than aimlessly in the south.”

Just hearing all of that truly made Jahn want to laugh. Seeing Eldrik place any amount of trust in him? But, it made a little bit of sense, if he really wanted to go to that extent. Southern politics was never an interest to Eldrik, so his hesitation to go down south himself wasn't exactly surprising. “Do not misunderstand me”, Eldrik began again, “I would have never seriously considered you if it weren't for the fact that you didn't return here on my request, but upon your own free will. Whatever led you back to your homeland is the part of you that I'm willing to put my trust with. And, like I said before, you're far better equipped to dealing with southern lords than I ever will be. But, most important of all? You're a Borvringska, and that name means everything.”

At those words, Jahn briefly looked around the room. At the stone, wood, iron, and everything else that made up the palace itself, and on a broader scale, all of Nordevar. He stood up and gestured to all of his surroundings. “I left all of this not because I hated it. No, I did so because I wanted to see more, I hungered for more than I could have here, but I returned. Why? I think it's because I've seen more, done more, and experienced more, and have finally realized that I have something to offer to you and all of Nordevar. And if doing this will be what I can offer, then I will happily do so.”

Eldrik smiled at this, and Jahn returned one of his own. “I assume I'll be entitled to some bodyguards if I do head south?”

“Of course, though I do hope there is no reason for you to need them. How many?”

Jahn simply grinned. “300.”

Eldrik bolted to his feet, knocking over his goblet, as well as the pitcher filled with ale from the table. There was a look of legitimate surprise painted across his face. “Are you mad!? 300? You're asking to march south with an army! Are you looking to instigate a war?”

Jahn slowly made his way around the table to meet Eldrik face to face. “You came to me to place your faith in me that I could play politics with southerners. This is a game that they play everyday, and playing this same game with them only lets them rig the board in their favor. Isn't it the northern way to flip the table over and place our own pieces upon the board?”

“Think for a moment. Why would I ever let them gain the upperhand when I possess the ability to play on my own terms? They would be officially bodyguards, of course, but they represent the seriousness of what the north hopes to achieve, which includes choosing an emperor concerned with the dangers that the northern border has always posed, and the fact that we cannot wait for them to connive with each once again to the detriment of the North. It's the fear and uncertainty that I want them to embrace, something I doubt they've ever experienced. Besides, you have always known that I am at least a little insane.”

Eldrik gave a sigh as he walked towards the center of the room for a chance to think about what Jahn just said. “I do not wish to give reason for anyone to paint us as possible aggressors, but... fuck it. What the hell do I honestly care? They'd be bodyguards, so no move could be legitimately thrown against us with just cause. Besides, I kind of do want to see their faces when there's over 300 rowdy Northmen in their capital. I believe that I'll send a letter, requesting room and board for that many, and I do have the feeling that I picked the right person to lead this delegation.” He placed his hand on Jahn's shoulder and smiled.

“If anything, it's the message that I hope to send with this act beyond anything else, which is also the reason why I plan to march over land for this very purpose. But let us talk more, there are logistics to determine, and do I hope to set out in the next few days, if I am able to.” They both took their seats, and continued to speak on those very matters, well into the night.

The boots of the man fell upon the deck of the ship with a purposeful stride. The snowy beard and hair resembling the wild mane of a lion as his predatory gaze scanned the threats about him, and his sword sung through the air finding flesh and letting loose a cascade of blood that painted the planks of wood a deep crimson. The sound of biting steel and screams of dying men was deafening but to his ears, it was a symphony of death for which he lived.

He was the dread pirate Rareik Farwyn, or so decadent wretches of Starborn called him so, fearing the man as they do. Rareik knew the truth. He was a king.

With resistance upon the ship put down, all those who would fight him slain, and the cravens that thought surrender would save them are slapped in irons and thrown into the sea, Rareik stood before his prize catch, the man for whom his attack was waged. The rightful king spat as his sea-grey eyes took measure of the man before him. He was a Starborn, that much was certain, the arrogant air that surrounded him was proof enough of that. He was dressed in finery from lands far away. The cur’s eyes were fervently searching for some means of escape, but after a firm correction from Rareik’s backhand, they found their suitable submissive gaze downward.

“You wish me to beg, is that it?” Wagged the insolent tongue of the Starborn. “I assure you, you will not get such satisfaction.”

Rareik said nothing, merely let his eyes bore into his flesh as if they were hot coals that could burn away the skin and lay bare his corrupt heart. Whether Starborn caught glimpse of the hard gaze, or felt it penetrate his being is unclear, but whatever the case his pride began to wither away and the precariousness of his situation let a stark fear creep up his spine.

“You know who I am. Whatever you want, we will pay.”

Rareik smiled, his lips curled to reveal his rotted teeth. “I don’t want your ill gotten gold, Starborn. I merely wish to sate his hunger.”

Starborn shuddered as iron clamps were slapped across his wrists, and heavy chains were laid upon his shoulders. “What trickery is this? My life is worth it’s weight in gold! Don’t be a fool!”

The words were mere wind in Rareik’s ears. “Lohennir is hungry, what mortal can deny him?” Placing his boot upon his captive’s chest, and with a firm push, he shoved the protesting lordling over the side of the ship and followed his pleading eyes as they disappeared into the deep of the sea.

Lohennir is not the only one that is hungry, and like that fallen God, Rareik too could not be sated merely by this paltry sacrifice. Only when the cursed city is razed and Mivaen his will he be content and the pangs of a hunger generations old finally be quelled.

---

---

The smell of the sea filled the nostrils of Tybolt Starborn as he stood upon the forecastle of his ship, The Star’s Edge. Before him the great city filled his view, it’s sprawling towers stretching out over the horizon, gleaming as the white limestone from which they built caught the rays of the sun and shone. After two years in Lointaine he was home at last.

To say he was homesick was a stretch, that much was sure. Did he miss his bedchambers, his hearth, and the gaggle of servants that waited upon his every whim? His home was the sea and he held little affection for such comforts. His family then? With his mother returning to her kin in the Northern Reaches, he had grown accustomed to the pain of her absence long ago. His wife, a fine woman to be sure, but he held little love for her. Tybolt supposed it was his dearest friend he missed most of all, Seras Rightspear. Two years is a long time to have an ocean between her embrace.

Seagulls squawked high above as his dromond sailed into the great Starborn habour. Heavy ropes were cast from stern to aft, tethering the vessel to the stone pier that jut out into the sea like a pearl finger. Tybolt descended from the forecastle and flung over the rail of the ship, dropping down onto the pier, not bothering to wait for the plank his crew extended. He swept his salt speckled cloak across his body as he made his way into the bustling harbor.

Surprise took him as Tybolt saw a small gathering within the harbour square. His father, Victor Starborn, King of Mivaen stood along with his brother Willim and a small entourage. A gaggle of merchants and nobles hoping to earn an audience with the king were kept at bay by a pair of guards with crossed halberds.

The king and his followers regarded Tybolt as he approached, falling on his knee in respect of his father. “My king, father, I am home at last, returned victorious from Lointaine and the errand you set me upon.” Two years ago he left to broker favourable trade relations with the eastern sultanate of Kysra. He had been wildly successful, earning an exclusive deal with the sultan, cutting their rivals in Violetta out of their iron trade.

Victor placed an indifferent hand on the brow of his firstborn. “You have served your house with distinction on that distant shore, now rise, for you homecoming is overdue.”

Tybolt rose, the compliment soured by complaint from his father very familiar in his ears. “Ill winds kept my voyage longer than I had hoped,” he explained. “Still, I did not expect a welcome here in the harbour.”

Willim, Tybolt’s younger brother, scoffed. “We are not standing among the peddlers and beggars for your consideration, brother. The empire does not stop and start at your comings and goings.”

“Than perhaps you would be so kind as to fill me in on your purpose.” Tybolt replied calmly, the coldness of his brother making him miss the vast sea.

His father put a calming hand on Willim’s shoulder. “The emperor is dead. Taken by a storm at sea. He, and many of his companions are lost to the deep.”

Tybolt felt the air leave his lungs. He realized his father’s purpose. He was bound for the capital, his duties as Arch-Elector compelling his voice before the Phoenix Throne. “Father, counsel if I may?”

The king shook his head. “I have no need of counsel, but rather a regent. Willim shall travel with me and impart the wisdom of his statesmanship in the challenges ahead, while you will sit the Pearl Throne in my stead. Heed the wisdom of the counsel and remember the lessons I have given you. Are you up to this task I bestow upon you, my son?”

Tybolt’s knees felt weak, as if made of glass that cracked and shuddered under the weight that now fell upon his shoulders. “Surely Willim…”

“No.” Victor interrupted sternly. “Willim will be by my side, but a Starborn must always rule. As you are High-Captain with a seat on the Royal Council, I deem it should be you, despite any reservations.”

“I will do as you bid, father.” Tybolt bowed.

With a satisfactory nod from the king, and a mocking smirk from Willim, the party moved on toward the piers, to board a ship and sail for the capital. Tybolt made way for the Stargaze Tower, the ancestral palace of his family. Locked away in seclusion, where for one of the few times in his life, he felt uncertain of the future.

Uncertainty then gave way to fear..

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Even at The Academy of Sorcere, there would be no hiding from the effects of losing Taramyth Valarien.

The political landscape of Lalrial had once again tumbled into chaos. This was one thing Avantasia Valarien knew was going to happen as soon as the early demise of her nephew, Taramyth, was announced . She had had more meetings and visitors since the announcement then she would’ve liked. Even in her youth alongside Taramyth’s father, Dirkham, she had refused to play the game of politics. She was interested about things regarding fantastical, spiritual, and intellectual rather than the political. But she had been dragged into things twice in her life— first to Alexander II Valian, and second in her appointment to the Imperial Council as the Master of Magic. It seemed like that now was the time for her third time in her life with people countlessly asking her about any public stance she was taking on the contenders; even with Taramyth’s council effectively defunct she was still being asked questions in the matter. Maybe it was her royal name that was causing them to flock to her. Whatever the reasons were, she knew she found it irritating and pointless.

Her old faded eyes looked at the papers in front of her, the majority of them inquiring about the election contenders.

It had been no secret that Avantasia had used arcane magic, specifically the alteration school to slow her aging. It had been one of the flaws she had held for the majority of her life— the fear of death and the slow twisting path of age that took away youthful beauty in such ungraceful fashion. However magic could only slow and as said, hide, so much and that included her exhaustion. Between the discovery of some new magical research that she had her eyes on, the political animals in the capital sending her letters, the anxiety of losing Taramyth, the dread of outliving another Valarien, and the stress of managing the academy…. there was a lot on her mind. So much that she had little time for sleep even if she wanted to.

A heavy exasperated sigh left her as she shook her head. This was the office of the supreme magister, the leader of The Academy of Sorcere— not her damned home or a political station. She needed to be concerned about the pains of her school, its instructors, and the students who needed a haven for instruction. But alas, others would make it exponentially more difficult to focus on the magical academy’s needs during such a “dire” time for the empire. There was no way to hide from those with political interests when people kept reminded her that she was a Valarien and held a responsibility that could not simply be written off. “That’s not my concern or problem.” was a statement she could never say even though she had wanted to for her whole life.

A life that had been a distraction after distraction. She was told to marry into House Valian, the holders of the Kingdom of Xandria in the wooded expanse that held little interest to her. She had been twenty-two years past her nameday and suddenly she had to go to a foreign land to “remind” a honorable house of who it held ties to. It felt so pointless to her at the time, the empire was over a thousand years old and it needed to remind the one vassal that had never even thought about rebellion? It was nonsense. Regardless of what she felt, it was done and several decades of her life were taken from her as Queen of Xandria. She grew to love King Alexander II in time and the children she bore for him, but as soon as he died she felt she had no business wasting away in Xandria. So she withdrew her husband’s house from hers and once again returned to being Avantasia Valarien and not Avantasia Valian. She was happy that day… not for Alexander’s death but for the return of freedom. Nobody dared to challenge her. She wouldn’t let them.

But people would try, as was evident by a letter with House Valian’s seal that she began reading over.

Lady Avantasia of Sorcere,

It has come to my attention that you have been trying your best to stay out of imperial politics, which I completely understand given the situation here in Lalrial at the moment. However, I have just been informed that King Alexander III Valian has arrived in the royal shipyards and is on route to my imperial estate. I know you abhor this political game we are forced to play but wouldn’t it be ideal to meet with a son that you do not get to see quite often?

I have no business telling you what to do, of course, but it would also be wonderful to see you and I am absolutely sure it will take my uncle’s mind off the affairs of being in Lalrial as he has refused to visit since my father’s death. It may also, as I have heard, halt the intrusive visitors who come to you asking things not directly relating to your work. Though I will not pretend to think that you appearing in Lalrial will make that any easier as once you are here you will be targeted by the mannerless political animals that reside here as “nobles”. Believe me in that I will do everything in my power to prevent people being aware of your presence so you can be left alone.

It is also important for me to say I haven’t been back to Sorcere since I was elected to this most respectful position. I miss it and I miss our conversations, so perhaps you can also do this favor to your most precious grandson? That is if you can find time in your busy schedule to make such a kind consideration.

Whatever you decide, I understand and I hope to see you in the future.

Multae gratiae!

Your grandson,
Theodric Valian, Prime Magistrate of Xandria

She read the note before discarding it into a nearby pile. Her grandson, Theodric, had a point. It would be something to consider even though the city of Lalrial made her feel so burdened. Despite her inabillity to literally hide she did like to pretend that she could by isolating her here at the lands held by the academy.

Her thoughts ended as she was taken back to reality by the sound of footsteps.

“Supreme Magister, you have a.. visitor.” The nervous voice of one of her assistants was apparent.

“Of course, Lucarion.” She smiled, her tone polite before pausing for a moment. It would be difficult to refuse a visitor without reason to even if it was most likely a political visit. She had danced the conversation many times over the past few days, so she supposed she should humor the discussion. “You may grant them entrance.”

“Thank you, Supreme Magister.”

As Lucarion left she withdrew a piece of blank parchment and placed it on the desk in front of her. While she waited for the visitor to enter her room from the stairwell she decided to write a quick notation of reply to Theodric, she felt she should at least give him an answer rather than have him wonder in silence. It was impolite to do otherwise— and despite her rigid feelings she was anything but impolite. “We are better than beasts.” was an expression her father used to tell herself and Dirkham when they were younger and something that stuck with her throughout most of her adult life. Perhaps it was also one of the reasons she dedicated herself towards the intellectual arts of magic and science as well as manners.

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairwell came not too long after she had begun, the careful yet unrushed pattern told Avantasia that the visitor was patient; so at the very least this might be a pleasant and non-irritable conversation. But she had been wrong before; she hoped that wasn’t the case here.

“So I suppose I can check you off the list of visitors to expect within the month?” She commented as the individual entered the room, Avantasia’s eyes seemingly still on the paper.

“Sounds like we are in the same boat,” Allianna slipped into the room. A certain look of wear was on her face, but it was so light it might have just been play to emphasize her words.

“Never a second away from loud opinions and bickering yet passive side comments in this place I swear.” She continued, pausing to smile, “I suppose that sentence was yet another one, see what I mean?”

“Allianna.” Avantasia commented as she looked up, swiping the last stroke with the inkpen in her hands. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised that you are the first Valarien to physically make the trip here. What can I help you with?”

“Oh, I would say just to stop by and say hello, but I’m sure you’d see right through that.” Allianna surrendered as she found a spot in a comfy chair by the desk.

“When you have been around as long as I have it kind of comes naturally.” She commented as she looked across the desk at the young Valarien girl, her great niece. Allianna was a political animal like Deand and Sophsi, talented as well as skilled in the ways of the political game but whereas Deand was cunning in his dealings behind the scenes and Sophsi had a gregarious presence, Allianna was wise about the political system. Youthful wisdom aside, Avantasia saw her as a bit of a child in her manner— always pushing to get what she wanted from every single angle until she dug her talons into the desired result. But digging her talons into another phoenix was far more challenging and Avanasia had always been the most rigid of her relatives.... and perhaps the most influential due to her longevity.

“So, where Deand sends letters you take the few hours journey to talk to me directly. The game you are playing is as dangerous as swimming with sharks.” Avantasia paused for a moment. “But you know that. You’ve danced with sharks since you were a child.”

“I’d rather not waste your time writing and mailing me.” Allianna said with a nod, “Also, I figured that what few questions I might have for you would be best asked in person.”

“Well I suppose if you waste my time you my as well be productive with it. Do go on.”

“Are you at all worried about the upcoming election?” Allianna asked abruptly.

“I’ve tried to ignore it. Which as I’m sure you know is impossible. But no, I am not worried in the slightest. It really doesn’t effect me beyond letters and personal visits.”

Allianna seemed a little shocked, even pursing her lips. “Well, so long as you are comfortable in the affair. I’m not as easy about it, damocles sword hangs heavy during such politics, and everyone hides their true feelings of the matter to thin the rope even more.”

“Were you worried I would run as a contender in that fool’s game?”

“I am not worried about contenders as much as results.” Allianna answered easily, “I always figured your support to be null in these situations, preferred to keep any opinion away from the game. In all honesty, I would not be surprised if you only have given the possible winners of this election a forethought, and even less to who you would even support.”

“I suppose the support of the former Master of Magic might sway a few. So the game you and the others are playing is not as pointless as I want it to be. But yes, you are very astute regarding my opinions. So what’s your game, Allianna? You have come here for something and not out of inconsequential discourse.”

“You know why I’m here,” Allianna folded her hands in her laps and smiled, “it is more or less regarding your son’s point of view on the matter more so than your own, which we’ve already discussed.”

“So the truth comes out in full view; that was Deand’s intention, I wager, as well. I know for a fact my son will lean towards someone who has been known to be honorable and courageous, who has shown that they can lead in confidence. Such feelings about honor are an old Valian thing, but his father was no different.” She paused for a moment as she held her hand up. “So I suppose you would lose to Jakinus.”

“I don’t know so much if I would be losing as much as the rest of the Empire,” Allianna rebutted, “we can’t afford another incident at the webwoods or any part of that area that claimed so many, including a few of your nephews.”

“I don’t think if people will ever stop dying in the far north, but you are right that a imperial-sanctioned invasion would be pointless. But I imagine many people will say the north needs to be protected.” Avantasia thought aloud as she folded the letter she had finished writing a few moments ago before sliding it to the side of her desk.

“And so we need minds that will think twice about defending rather than courageously rushing an invasion, if we need defence, then we defend.”

“So you are after stability. What makes you different than the intentions of Deand or the other contenders? And also what is the benefit for myself? Why should I care who gets that archaic chair?”

“I never mentioned the chair,” Allianna answered, her eyes growing grim, “I came to seek the compassion that our family now so dwindles from one who was put far away from the epicenter. Perhaps I thought, that maybe the taint of politics wouldn’t pollute so far away, naive of course, but a thought. Either way, my uncle and your nephew perished because of people’s misunderstanding of the word stability, and along with him your great nephew and my cousin, then nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight other nephews, cousins, brothers and men of family and of none. My father passed away, and not naturally, so perhaps I thought it was a good idea to bring a true stability to the nation instead of stable chairs to the people who spoke the loudest and promised the most, because as you very well know more than I do, this is what is birthed from it.”

“Well spoken. Almost as if you rehearsed it.” Avantasia’s hand went to a cup to her left which held water. “Allianna, you know if I was to re-immerse myself in this game I wouldn’t do it lightly. If you truly seek to bring this realm back to balance, stability, and caution instead of frivolous voyages, unwinnable campaigns, and ignorances then I suppose I can take a thought to have words in your favor with my son. I have business in Lalrial anyway, so I suppose I should. Perhaps it can stop this senselessness quickly. But you know better than anyone once I show up in those streets every Valarien and Magistrate will try to get my support.”

Avantasia took a drink of the water. “So I will think about it instead of outright ignore it like I planned to. Because, as… irritating as I find the situation, you are right that the unity of family should be remembered. We Valarien’s used to not look at one another with daggers.”

“Sensible and wise, this is why I came so far to speak with you,” Allianna smiled, “I ask nothing more than what I’ve already stated, and you have my gratitude for listening.”

“I suppose so. I believe we are done here.”

Imperial Palace, Lalrial - an interlude.

In one of the many libraries that graced the capital, there was no doubt that the Imperium Union library of the west wing of the grand palace was the most decorated. Fattened with tomes of yore and new contemporaries, the smell of both old paper and fresh ink polluted the quiet lanes of the great multitude of rooms. It truly was a labyrinth of knowledge both lost on the shelves and open in the hands of curious patrons.

In between two towering bookcases that stretched far down a tiled lane there were numerous chairs and tables for those with a thirst for a good book. They were plain when compared the gilded fashion of the rest of the library, but comfortable and blessed with feather cushions.

On one such chair sat Charlotte, the second daughter and third child of Lothar Amrothan. She had taken the time that morning, given her desire to visit the palace’s own places of knowledge, to adequately restrain her somewhat awry light, brown hair, while choosing clothing that while perhaps not the norm of a typical princess, a blouse and trouser combination that was, while simple, clearly made of materials and spartanly adorned with finery far beyond the financial means of anyone not of noble standing. Nevertheless, it let her be less noticeable, even if the Bannerguard that was sworn to follow her throughout the capital gave the game away sometimes. That was a concern that she did not have to consider in the Palace, at least. Free to roam the library, she had found some hefty tome relating to the history of Ignis. She had considered it a worthy read, though she was sure much of its earlier contents had long since been outright copied in a few of the less notable or reputable books she had read in her sixteen years in the world, but it was well written, something anyone could respect, with insights yet gleaned from its myriad pages.

As her eyes scanned the rust colored lettering of the archaic book, a soft whisper between the patrons sitting idly behind her at a separate desk intercepted her focus. The perpetrators were seemingly careful in their words, attempting to keep their voices between themselves as they thumbed idly through books of their own.

“Outright suspicious if you ask me.” One of the men answered a hushed statement, his voice a dull breeze and barely audible.

“It makes sense though, I mean when you really think about Jakinius, it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.” The other offered quietly.

At first, a glimmer of annoyance swept across Charlotte’s face. The kind that anyone who has attempted to read in silence, uninterrupted, would understand. It took only a moment however for Charlotte to understand the words, though hardly unthinkable or far from topical, they seemed to be off, somehow. Falling into the practised style of reading but more accurately, eavesdropping, she listened.

“What are the guard doing about it?” One asked.

“I think they are on edge, but playing a wait and see. That’s what I would do.”

“Terrible times, can’t trust anyone anymore.”

“Well as I said, give a man an army and let him do what he wants with it; of course eventually he would get it in his mind that he can just take his father’s title, no questions asked.” one huffed quietly

“But to march an army?”

“I don’t know, I simply don’t know.” One of the men closed his book with a soft slap and stood up, “well I best be off.”

“Sure enough,” the other replied, his voice breaking the hushed tone of secrecy for casual banter. “I’ll be here most of the day if you find anymore freetime.”

Charlotte frowned, wondering just what exactly the two voices had discussed. Whispers of a coup? She didn’t know Jakinius, but that seemed extreme, particularly when everything was still so uncertain. Perhaps that was the cause. Perhaps it was just the idle gossiping of the nobility. She considered taking a peek to see if the remaining member of the party would be recognisable, but it would also risk revealing that she had been close enough to overhear them. Discretion was key, no doubt her sister would say, so she erred towards caution.

She closed the tome she had now lost interest in, rising quietly but with at least an outward appearance of being casual, returning it to where she had found it. She should say something to her father, yet she considered what good it would do, perhaps it would be best to wait. Maybe she could yet find out more. She let out a small, quietened sigh. The Capital was not quite as fun as she was hoping it would be.

The Silver Gold Tower was old, built at the same time as the other early pieces of the city and it was a small fortress in its own right. An outer wall surrounded a small courtyard containing a small stable and other things. From within the wall a shining tower of alternated gold and silver layers of stone stretched up into the sky several stories. It was the home of the Argentum branch within Lalrial and had a colorful history. Many heretics had been tortured within those walls, many secrets had been spilled, and many plots against the empire had been foiled.

The Vialiph waited within one of the ground level chambers that was furnished as a meeting chamber. There were nicer chambers by far but no one who was not of the imperial line or a member of the Argentum was allowed above the lowest level, unless granted special permission.

As he was in his role as the ruler of Meletis and not as one of the two Grand Inquisitors of the Argentum he wore traditional vaelie clothing, made up of a myriad of strips of silver, gold, and purple silken cloth. And there he waited for the one he had summoned to arrive.

Victoria had never especially admired the Silver Gold Tower. She'd always thought is was gaudy—a tacky eye-soar polluting the otherwise architecturally pleasant Lalrial skyline. More important than the tower's facade in informing the Duchess' percepetion, however, was what lies within. The Veletians had never been especially warm to the Argentum, and House Gracieux was no exception. Still, they were not especially vocal of their opposition to the shadowy's organizations power. No one in the Empire was, or the inquisitors would have burned them as a heretic aleady. As Victoria approached the tower, wearing her symbolic dark purple dress, the Gracieux gilded bouquet decorating her neck and a small troupe of the gendarme escorting her, she began to think of a few clever ideas for how to turn her distaste towards the Argentum to her advantage in influencing House Tlaerie. The Tlaerie were the sponsors of the Argentum, the organization's mother and father, but parents, as Victoria knew was true for herself, always had their children's best interests in mind.

As Victoria and her entourage approached the gates a pair of guards in ornate but practical golden armor, with silver capes hanging from their backs stepped up to the edge of the wall and called down to them. "Halt. Announce yourselves and state your business."

"Duchess Victoria Gracieux, Elector of Violette, on ivitation of Vialiph Nis'Silvani Tlaerie."

"Open the gate." One of the guards called down to others behind the wall and in moments the doors had swung open to permit Victoria and her party entry. As they approached the actual doorway into the Silver Gold Tower though they were stopped again. "There are no arms permitted within the Tower for non Argentum members."

The visibly armed gendarme stood outside the door to the tower, flanking either side of the entrance and awaiting, in formation, their Duchess' return. Victoria, unarmed, stepped into the tower's entryway and was greeted by the Vialiph.

As Victoria entered the meeting room Vialiph Nis'Silvani Tlaerie rose from his seat in a single graceful motion. A face that could only be described as beautiful shaped a welcoming smile as the vaelie made a half bow of respect to an equal. Then he straightened and spoke. “Welcome to the Silver Gold Tower Duchess Victoria Gracieux. We so rarely have guests pleased to be here.” His voice was lilting and musical with an odd weight and gravitas that almost pushed at the mind.

The Duchess returned the Vialiph's bow, and took her seat after he had finished introducing her. She took a quick glance around, taking in the character of the room. It was nothing that a Gracieux would find especially impressive, but definitely less dreary than one would expect for an outpost of the inquisitors. Men who tortured and ate other men for a living were generally not assumed to have especially fine taste. "Well," Victoria began, matching her contemporary's friendliness, "I am pleased to be an exception, then. Your presence is always cause for a certain degree of pleasantness. The Vaelie make excellent company. Something about the nature of your people. It is an almost mystical quality, I would say. Disarming."

"We are as we were fashioned by the Sacred Flames of creation, just as you are as you are." The vaelie's voice was still musical and oddly lilting but the current of power had faded to a trickle. He too returned to his seat. “Our gifts aid us, just as your gifts aid you. We all have our parts to play.” Nis'Silvani smiled then. “Sadly while pleasantries are pleasant the reason I have summoned you is of greater importance. The Empire needs a ruler, a ruler who is not tying himself to heretical ----” the last word was odd and the resonance came back in full force as he spoke it. It was obviously not flattering.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, visibly unimpressed at Silvani's sudden change of language and tone. "If someone connected to heretics is running for Emperor, and you are aware of this, I would assume the inquisitors are already on the task of apprehending those involved. Is Jakinius secretly a worshipper of Ymir? Do you have reason to believe that Allianna is He Who Watches, in disguise?"

"The prior emperor, may the Sacred Flames purify and redeem his soul, protected Kawachia and aligned himself with the heretical Swiftwaves." The Vialiph explained, his silver face not stirring the slightest at Victoria's response. "Their corruption has been allowed to fester unchecked and must be curbed lest it spread."

The brow of the Duchess returned to its resting place, and her expression became one of very slight amusement. "Yes, the Swiftwaves. I've heard of what happened to them—what your men did to them. I have no real connection to Kawachia, nor does Ralltene, but events such as those I've heard are the sort that might inspire sympathy. There is no greater enemy of faith than fanaticism."

For a second the Vialiph looked almost like he had bitten into a lemon. "Actions of haste that have since been corrected."

Victoria interjected, "Corrected, Vialiph? I may well be mistaken, as I would not pretend to be an authority on religious matters, but it has always been my understanding that necromancy is not one of the domains of Kammeth. If the Argentum has indeed abducted and murdered an innocent member of a Great House of Ethica, as I have heard... well, such an act could hardly be corrected."

"There has been no death, no murder." The Vialiph replied and with his voice shifting again continued. "The Swiftwave emissaries were taken for questioning in accordance with all laws of the realm. They have cooperated fully and will be released promptly." His expression was warm and genuine as he set forward what had occurred. "The testimonial statements are being verified and when they are completed the innocents shall of course be released."

Victoria's lips parted for her to speak, but then closed again, as she considered her words carefully. "Violette is home to a great number of fishermen, you may have known. If it is heard, even through hearsay, by a number of the buyers of these fish, that the fish are diseased, or have been poisoned before sale, some of these buyers may choose not to buy any fish. The fishermen, obviously, would suffer greatly for this..." As Victoria spoke, her tone became increasingly droll and frustrated, and her eyes drifted down to the table between herself and the Vialiph. After she had finished, but before Silvani could respond, she decided to correct her use of a metaphor. "I am not going to speak to you as if you were a child, Vialiph, because I have some trust in you, in your role in this tower. The Argentum is a necessary force in Ethica. The heretics and the beings they worship hold real power and possess a tangible threat to the Empire. Thankfully, the Argentum is ably tasked, through taxes I have personally contributed a great deal towards, to defend the Empire against them. If many more incidents such as this were to transpire, however, or if the Argentum were to be seen to possess undue influence in Ethica's political sphere, there may well be calls among nobles and commoners alike to curb the power of the inquisitors. I understand, Vialiph, that your order is an incredibly important one, and in a perfect world, it would be able to conduct its business completely independently and without fear of persecution by the very people it is tasked with defending. We both live in reality, however, and here, there are a great many voices that could be convinced to fear the Argentum more than Azueral. The individuals responsible for the recent mishap have been disciplined, you insist. Wonderful. But the wound they have inflicted upon your order's reputation can only be healed with time, and can quite easily be salted. If there were to be a great deal of drama surrounding the election currently taking place in our city, and if the Argentum were to be perceived to be involved in it, it would not bode well for the reputation of the Silver Gold Tower. This, in turn, would not bode well for Ethica."

The Vialiph folded his hands together and spent a moment in thought before nodding. "We live in an imperfect world where corruption eternally strives to pollute our light and we must be ever vigilant. But there is a time for action and a time for restraint. I know this well." With that the Vialiph rose once more before he bowed slightly for the second time. "You would do well to consider the threat should you find yourself behind the throne. The greatest trick the darkness can pull is to convince you that it is but an illusion when it is very real. Now I bid you depart in health and may the Sacred Flames preserve your soul."

A pleasant, satisfied smile was drawn across Duchess Victoria's lips as she arose from her seat, and reached to take Nis'Silvani's hand. "I have heard from many a man who has had a nightmare of finding himself in the Silver Gold Tower, but personally, I found it quite comfortable and accomodating." The Duchess' lips pressed against the Vialiph's hand, and Victoria's smile widened as she returned the respectful bow. As she turned away and began to walk towards the exit, she paused, and turned back to leave her final word. "I hope that a year from now, I might visit the Silver Gold Tower again, as Empress, and be pleased to find that the organization and its reputation are as strong and as honourable as ever. May the Sacred Flames preserve us both, Tlaerie."