The sky was past midnight. A transition from midnight to morning was in full swing. Looking up to the canopy, the city’s ceiling was unsure what side it should pick. Cool blacks, lightened by the reawakening of the three-legged crow on the western horizon, its return impeding. Great arches from one spire, to another, bridged the vast distances between them, but it still looked like the city was reaching out its arms to hold them together. Every man inside these walls knew that, to be born inside them meant they were of a different cloth than any other soul—and that meant everything in a city already segregated from the population below their floating capital.
Everlight, inspired from Everburn of eras past were shoved into little containers, affixed to buildings, street corners, and obnoxious signs that had no need for them; leaving the cityscape look as if the stars had long ago fallen and, settled here as their resting place. These Everlight Lamps competed for their Queen’s attention, who stared out her windowless room and to the north—where, if she focused, she could even see the white-tipped peaks and sketch their details by eye. She’s been like this for quite some time.
Our viewpoint departs from her, and descends to the streets, scarce from people as it’s been for the long night. Sometimes, rarely, a silhouette may shuffle around a corner; or take a set of stairs down to the city’s subfloor. Obviously, it is not illegal for a man to wander as he likes and move when life is asleep. But, for those excitedly out when there’s not an observer, are individuals of subtlety best to stay away from. Thankfully they do without saying; the dark has feared the light anyway.
She sees them. She could see everything if she wanted.
The spires of the Five Houses lie in the backdrop; they do not take kindly to an outsider’s perception waving over their homes. To prevent this, they’ve long ago rose up a strong formation that bends, curtails and dissipates Spiritual Sense. No matter who it is, their sense will act like light through a prism. The Five Houses have long ago told human curiosity to take a swim in hell.
Forget them and look to the taverns—they’re still open. Always are. Always will be. Where cultivators congregate, there will be a stranger or regular bumbling through their doors at hours unsuitable relative to their status. And some who disregard it wholly, like the old monsters whose deeds are shared as gossip, transformed into rumor, and later into legend, then myth and fairy tales mocked by the generations proceeding. The hours after sunset were their time to move unnoticed. A funny notion, considering they could do the same in the hottest of summers and still be a passing thought to their juniors.
Some of them were these silhouettes. She could call them by name, too.
The interior of these taverns shared similar tastes, maybe differing by a table here, or a slightly taller bartender with a vainer sense of humor. In exchange for individuality their clients stay the same, their leanings and behavior predictable. Saves the business money when there’s not an unexpected brawl that leaves a gash in the flooring, or a hole that blew out the next building’s wall beside them. Only the foolish dared to cause a stir on this hallowed ground, and these individuals would be oblivious to the consequences afterward. A few sadistic personalities had their screams on recording, saved for later.
The lights, the arches, the spires, the taverns and more—this is the One-City Kingdom. No keep recognition needed.
Silverwhite Yu, daughter of Silverwhite Nang; 77th Ruler, and the 20th Queen to take the throne: subjugator of the eastern tribes, and the new head of the Silverwhite House let her attention lapse from her vigil, looking over the regal room behind her. Often, she thought her craftsmen mistook who they were lorded by, thinking that their Queen was a horse rather than a woman; the bed spacious enough to tuck a whole orphanage in. But she hasn’t enjoyed its comfort since waking, and the two heads tucked in wholesomely hadn’t noticed a thing missing, not that they had any right to care.
The bed’s canopy helped conceal her evil deeds. This night—or more correctly, last night she had felt a little more adventurous. They performed well, as they should, otherwise with just a look, both the man and woman would do their due curtesy to excuse themselves instead of wasting their Queen’s time. Such behavior beyond this room would be met with derision, but what was she supposed to do? There were no suitors worth her time, and back at the mainland…
She laid her head over her arm.
As we observe the Queen, like most people, we all eventually realize she is not normal. ‘Course, while living in this metropolis nobody is, by any sense of reason… normal. Beautiful women are normal; Beautiful and powerful women are normal, too. But Silverwhite Yu has always had a special power, even before her life as a monarch over millions. Her legs drank the moonlight, maybe even storing it for later use, to perfect which already is. Her ebony hair was free to dangle wherever it wished: over a shoulder, between the eyes, hugging the Queen’s slender white neck.
It wouldn’t be her first time waking up early like this. Even worse, every time she did a little feeling somewhere was nagging her. Inside her consciousness, whenever she reaches out to find out what’s it about, the devilish thing would take flight beyond her reach. She was chasing a carrot clueless as to what the carrot is. And, every night like this, she would sit on her chair labored over by a hundred craftsmen, shaving out every imperfection there could ever be, spending a sect’s treasury over it; after all of that, it looked like just any ordinary chair purchased off the market. Suited to her taste.
The remaining night’s wind wiggled in her chest, which reminded her to tie up her nightgown. She stood, and out the door she went.
Silverwhite Keep: The Queen’s Wing was nearly devoid of people; besides the occasional servant she permits. Many wouldn’t dare to be so unguarded, especially when, to certain people, the Silverwhite name rouses envy and hatred. Despite her followers’ pleas, Yu valued her privacy almost more than her kingdom. Besides that, there wasn’t any reason. To be the Queen means all—and, exactly—all subjects are beneath her in strength. A disappointing reality if she had to say. But it is the norm that powerful cultivators descend from powerful and decadent families. Prideful even in the womb.
Only power can unite the Five Houses, forty or forty-five estimated clans, sects and the territories that came with it. Just like how her ancestor, Silverwhite Ji; the first ruler did. They would never submit otherwise. The Ancient Era was a literal free-for-all between the powers at the time; vying for superiority over another, and in during their struggle many victims died. The Silverwhite House was nothing but another one of these aggressors. Warmongers in their day, her family made lesser powers capitulate or face extermination. No negotiations.
With broken necks and mounds of corpses, Silverwhite Ji forced the Five Houses; inside of that name her own clan, who bickered for head at the time—to sign a treaty, ending the feuds, the exterminations, the wars, the everything. To clear the clouds for a brighter future. One in which children wouldn’t be forced to arbitrarily murder before they’ve even broken into Houtian. The grudges were clamped down on by her immense power, unseen by many at the time. For she was the first on Hannamith to ascend to a level never thought of as possible.
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Silverwhite Ji didn’t have a name for it at the time, because mostly she sought out to see if there were any others who’ve reached the level she had. After some years, it was a resounding “No.” She took on what they called her, through both fear and awe. They had only one thing to say…
“The Almighty.”
Centuries later, her descendant Silverwhite Yu was still the sole Almighty realm cultivator on Hannamith. And as a result, she herself has cause to call herself the queen of Hannamith. But, not a single descendant after Silverwhite Ji had ever let that slip. They wouldn’t dare to. Silverwhite Yu won’t break this stance either. It’s too presumptuous for the other side of the ocean to tolerate.
She walked through halls of ineffable grandeur, decorated with trophies collected from prior rulers. Priceless to historians: enough to buy a small kingdom to treasure hunters. They never took her interest. As pointed out by her father once, she never even asked, even as a little girl, about the deeds and heirlooms her family keeps. She didn’t have an answer to that. Couldn’t even fake one. She just wasn’t interested. Which was why when it came for her own heirlooms to enshrine her legacy, the podiums were left blank so far. She’ll get back to it, at some point she said.
A door that could be described as the separator between Heaven and Earth faced her. A thousand men and then some wouldn’t even make it budge, much less scratch the paint. She wasn’t looking at the door per se, like how anybody can space out staring into something or nothing. Yu blinked once, and it moved.
The door opened silently, fearing to anger its owner. Past it would be the way leading into the other wings of the keep. The throne room is nearest to hers. But—the Queen raised an eyebrow.
At the stairhead, “Good morning, my Queen,” said Kunima and Herritus.
One of them was more prepared for the early hours than the other. The Queen’s hearing was so fine, she could tell if a person is nervous, or lying just by heartbeat alone. It is also her radar for intimidate interaction. Kunima’s heartrate used to be elevated, because it was her first time being this close to her sovereign, and to be relied on so heavily. Herritus? For the latter, and for obvious reasons.
She’s known both since she was a girl, and they grew up with her so she could call them the closest she has ever had to friends. She’ll always take advantage of that.
“Haven’t I told you two not to be alarmed when I’m awake at this hour? Why’re you even following my presence that close, anyhow?"
Hand-in-fist and bowing, “My Queen,” Herritus said. “A thousand pardons, but it’s hard to—”
Moving quickly at her level didn’t require fancy footwork or exorbitant amounts of Juva to force the issue. A simple fold in space is all that’s required. To observers, she teleported. To her: she just walked. The Queen came close to Herritus’ neck and sniffed.
“You smell nice,” she whispered.
Duty and countless decades of harsh training were at stake, Herritus was a man that was feared throughout Hannamith as the Queen’s warlord. A man who somehow managed to pile muscle on top of muscle while still being able to fit into his Dragonlord Armor. Despite all that, “M–My Queen! I’ve… recently come into ac–acquisition of a new cologne that suppresses unnatural scents, to assist me if I need to hide my presence… so what you’re smelling is…” he muttered like a teenage boy.
Should anyone else witness this, there’s no doubt Herritus’ vindictive side would have them killed on the spot. Regardless of station.
She leaned, just a little bit closer, “I know.” The Queen was about to open her mouth again, but a foot came between her and Herritus. Flashing a knowing smile, “Is something the matter?” she said.
Kunima awkwardly smiled, “Uh, yes.”
The Queen waited for an answer, and the moment stretched out longer than it should. Until the Queen herself bailed her out. “My mistake! Sometimes it’s easy to forget where we are.”
“Yes, you are still… a little exposed.” Kunima’s eyes ran over the Queen.
Silverwhite Yu, the Queen giving face to someone? A servant, no less? An event that’ll never be known outside of their circle.
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Herritus held himself back in the hallway, allowing the two ladies to talk in private. A useless gesture, for at their levels they could hear nearly anything in the city if there’s no barriers erected. Obviously, the dutiful Herritus limited his hearing anyway. Vast stained-glass windows covered their walk, sucking in most of the moonlight. This place has an even better view of the city than the Queen’s room. Which is why whichever of the three took leisurely walks past it.
“Again, I’m sorry.” The Queen said. She locked arms with Kunima.
“You’re not obligated to apologize. Or for anything at all, really, my Queen.”
The Queen nudged Kunima. “It’s just us again, remember?”
“My mistake, Yu. It’s just hard… to separate…”
“I understand. Also, you’re just so easy to tease I couldn’t help it. You two are inseparable!”
“If only that were true looking deeper.”
Yu made a face. “What’s wrong?”
Kunima soothed a curl with a finger, “Sometimes, he’s just so dedicated to the throne, protecting you, protecting the kingdom and the city that sometimes he forgets—forgets that he’s just one man. I think he even misses the part that I’m a woman, now.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s chronically dense. I mean, did you two ever…?”
“No!” Kunima shouted quietly, for fear of alarming Herritus. A shade of red infested her face.
“Do you want to?”
Kunima nodded, slightly.
“How cute! Maybe, if you just jump him like I tried, maybe—”
Kunima is the only soul in the world that could stare death at her Queen and not live a fate worse than it.
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“You don’t get up this early for no reason. Even back when we were children, you often slept through two days and asked if you could go back to bed again to the King; may he rest well.” Kunima says.
With a sidelong glance to Yu, Kunima takes her time to search for the right words. “…Is it about the Exchange?”
Yu stops, and so does her friend. Far back, Herritus reads the expressions of the two and frowns with them, as if he were in the conversation too.
“Yes,” Yu admits. “There’s something worrying me.”
Were it any other time, in any other place Kunima would laugh and tease her friend to get back at her. However, Kunima is not very good at jokes and secondly, Yu does not worry about anything, or anyone, for that matter. A self-admitted selfish woman. The Yu speaking to her almost harkens back to the meek girl of a different era, with a different ruler.
“May I hear of it?”
“I suspect that there may be a plot in the works to which I, or my House, will be victims to.”
“…Conspiracy!” Kunima’s aura shot up. The windowpanes cracked. Her raw Juva was visible. Kunima was not the Queen’s longstanding friend, and confidante with nothing to show for it. One year, out of jealously, behind their Queen’s back the royal guard challenged Kunima, citing that she was not worthy of being by their lord’s side as a substitute for one of their own. She accepted, and through the mock laughter and jeers at her, she allowed the person who instigated the trouble to identify himself first.
She killed him instantly, hospitalized the rest. When the smoke cleared and the Queen took word of what happened, she couldn’t be moved to punish her guard—whatever she would’ve done, Kunima did it already. Never again would a soul dare to speak ill of the Queen, or the Queen’s personal aides. Kunima holds no special title or status from her family, all in all, she’s the closest thing to being an ordinary person within the keep. But after that day, and with her status as the right hand of the Queen, if there’s a need, she could temporarily command Herritus and the One-City Kingdom in the Queen’s name.
That is who Kunima is.
So, when her oppressive Juva was about to spill out of their hallway, into the keep then out to the city streets and shock the whole kingdom awake Yu laid a hand on her shoulder, dispelling the growling storm.
“Who do you think it may be?” Kunima didn’t waste words asking if her Queen was sure about her suspicions, if she say it is, then it is. If she said the sky was green and milk is the new water, she’ll personally dry all rivers on their island.
“I am not sure of who’s involved, but I am sure of one man acting in the shadows…”
“Hao Grittus,” they both said, eyes meeting.