The main road of the capital was wide, allowing several carriages to flow through side by side. When the black and gold banner was carried by the Knights, none dared to step onto the road for at least a thousands paces.

Within the capital was home to millions, it holding as many people as there were in the entirety of the north.

There were a great many estates within the capital, each sprawled into the hill side. Every estate was staffed by at least several dozen staff, but those which belonged to the greater houses were staffed by hundreds. Every noble estate looked down towards the commoners, separated by the hills, walls, and the river.

The commoners lived on flat land, where they belonged. The thick outer walls protected them, but they were also between the nobles and whatever threat may come, though there had been no threat which had managed to reach the gates of the capital in some time.

Though the nobles looked over the commoners, there was one supreme noble who looked above even the nobles within the capital from atop the palace. The palace lay on the tallest hill, and overlooked the entirety of the capital, and the lake which was no more than half a mile away.

The King tapped the table, made of sturdy deadwood like most of the pieces in the war room, staring down at the map placed onto it. For once, he was waiting for others, those four who held the keys to the Kingdom.

Eastsea.

Goldport.

Lionheart.

Blacksnow.

Three of them had arrived in a timely manner, though it was always Blacksnow who were late, as one might have expected.

King Blackwater couldn’t help but feel a little impatient.

He had done it.

He had managed to claim a victory, one which would pave the way to future success.

However, that was not the only reason why he called the council. As any ruler, he was bound by domestic politics. There were steps which he needed to take to make sure the foundation of his rule remained stable.

The sounds of steps echoed through the hallway as they arrived. The first was a man in his mid fifties, handsome, with sun kissed hair and ocean blue eyes. He wore the typical attire of the Aldish beneath a a breastplate, and he wore a blade at his side, one of the few who was blessed with such an ability.

The King worried little about the blade, due to the fact that the King’s Sword stood right beside him, and there were at least a dozen other Knights who were no further than twenty steps from him.

“Your Grace,” Duke Lionheart called, approaching the King, bowing his head slightly.

“Duke Lionheart,” the King replied, shaking the man’s hand. If it had been any other noble, there may have been a problem, but Duke Lionheart was a staunch ally.

“King’s Sword,” the Duke said, nodding his head to the King’s Sword.

The King’s Sword did not reply. In the capital, the King’s Sword needn’t bow to any other noble, Duke or otherwise.

It wasn’t long that a beautiful woman appeared, her skin tan, betraying the blood of those from further east from one of her recent ancestors. She wore a breastplate too, silver, and wore a blade at her side, which was formed of sapphicule. Her attire was a vibrant blue, like the sea on a sunny day. It was long, taking cues from the Confederacy and Aswadia. She wore several chains of silver, each with a different blue gem, layered like ocean waves.

“Your Grace,” she said, bowing her head deeply for the King, her jewellery jingling before offering her hand.

“Duchess Eastsea,” the King replied, kissing the back of her hand, as was expected of him.

The Duchess’ eyes flashed towards the map, but didn’t find anything interesting.

Duchess Goldport had also appeared, wearing a golden armour, a thin breastplate which only covered her breasts, and a spaulder over her left shoulder. She carried with her a rapier, also golden. Her dress was deep purple, and was mostly Aldish in design, save for the collar, which was thin and small, the Aswadian way. Her skin was also slightly tan, due to the Aswadian blood she held.

She greeted the King in the same way, and the King replied with a kiss against the back of her hand. He was the youngest of the five great nobles, having become King a little over a decade ago.

The Duke took his place beside the King, arms behind his back as he stared down at the map. There were small pieces, each of which represented the various troops which had been sent out. There were a group off to the side, one which may have represented those sent away to the islands.

However, the trio had all noticed there were another set of small blocks, which had been left to the side. They were black and gold, the colours of the Blackwater family. There were already a few pieces on the board which represented the family, but they were already in place at their various positions across Central Aldland.

Neither of the three dared to bring up the matter, as there was no point.

She would do it for them.

“They are always late,” Duke Lionheart said, staring down at the map. He was staring at the north, which held the smallest number of blocks, though even Duke Lionheart didn’t underestimate them.

“The Duchess will be arriving soon,” the King said, confirming her attendance.

They all knew she was coming, each of them through their own networks. Even if they were all allied and the fact most of their history inland had been peaceful, that was no reason to allow any cracks in their own defences.

Steps echoed through the hallway, though they sounded far too quick for them to belong to the Duchess. Passing through the archway came a young man who held the spitting image of the King.

He had silver hair, which he had inherited from his father, and dark grey eyes from his mother. He wore a breastplate, which had been engraved with the image of a dragon in a lake, the symbol of the Blackwater family. At his side was a blade, forged out of true jagite from Jaghi.

“Your Grace,” he said, bowing his head, before he greeted the Duke, Duchess Goldport, and Duchess Eastsea.

Duchess Eastsea made note of how she had been greeted last, but she accepted a kiss against her knuckles, which had been reserved for her. “You only grow more handsome day by day,” she said.

“Your words are an honour, Duchess,” the Prince said, a charming smile on his lips. He was in a good mood, for reasons the others could only assume. He stepped up beside his father, sharing a look with him, before taking his place beside the King’s other side.

The Duchesses could only help but remain on their own side. The King had chosen to form greater ties with West Aldland, for reasons which they could only assume. Either they were preparing to deal with the Orcs, or they were going to do something which none would dare to speak aloud.

Then it came. Breaking though the silence, the sounds of the steady, slow steps filled the hallway. There was also another set of step, steady and heavy, with a practised slowness.

Emerging from the archway came Duchess Blacksnow. Black hair and dark grey eyes, typical of the Blacksnow family. Her skin was wrinkled heavily, and she wore little jewellery, only the necklace which had been gifted to the Blacksnow family from the Blackwater family. She did not wear armour, and carried only a cane. What need did she have to wear armour and carry a blade in the capital when she had him at her side.

The Knight of Death.

No.

The previous Knight of Death.

Standing beside the Duchess was Sir Royce, who had recently retired from his duties. He wore just the breastplate of his heavy plate mail, and at is back was a giant maul, carved out of dark gem, black as night, with specks of light which shifted about like fireflies within.

“Your Grace,” Sir Royce said, bowing his head lightly. Another other Knight would had to bow deeper, or take a knee, but he was not any other Knight.

The Duchess scoffed. “How could you call me down south with such little notice?” she snapped, raising her hand to the King. “It better be important for you to call this old lady down hundreds of miles where it’s warm.” Stating the last word caused her to scowl deeply.

“I offer you my deepest concerns, Duchess,” the King said, taking her hand and kissing it.

“The heat is bad for my old bones,” she said, before her eyes snapped to the Prince. “Who is this handsome young man?”

The Prince stood awkwardly, unsure of how to reply to the woman even her father had to respect. She had dared to completely ignore the Duke and the other Duchesses.

“It can only be my darling Prince.” The Duchess stepped closer to the Prince, too quickly for the King’s Sword, who almost moved, only to be stopped by the deathly aura Sir Royce was giving off.

Sir Royce had grit his teeth, and shot the most deadly glare towards the King’s Sword, which caused him to shrivel and step back. ‘You little bastard, don’t forget who it was that allowed you to become the King’s Sword? You think I won’t beat your ass in front of the King?’

The King’s Sword was fairly certain what the old man was thinking. It was awkward for him. He was related to the Duchess and had been brought down south to the capital to grow close with the King when he was a boy. The Duchess had hand picked him from a relative, so the King would grow close with a northerner, and he had claimed the title of King’s Sword with the help of the Duchess.

He had loyalties to both the King and the Duchess, which had put him in quite the position, but he was also fairly certain that a man like Sir Royce would also dare to draw his maul if he tried to make a move.

“Just because my nephew doesn’t come to visit me, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come either,” the Duchess said, hooking her arm around her sister’s great grandson, and pulled him away to her side. The King stood with the Duke, Duchess Blacksnow with the Prince, and the Duchesses together.

“Yes, Duchess,” the Prince replied, unable to say anything else to the woman.

“Do you have your grandfather’s knack for the sword or your father’s?” she asked.

“My father’s,” the Prince assured.

“Good.” Her eyes snapped to the Duke, narrowing them at her. “How could you stand beside the King so closely?”

“I am merely trying to get a better view of the map, Duchess,” the Duke replied.

“You aren’t so old that you need to stand so close to the map. You may step away from Justinian at once.”

Since she had dared to invoke the King’s name, Duke Lionheart stepped away, throwing a look towards the King, but he decided against any move towards the Duchess for calling his name. He wasn’t stupid enough to deal with the old Duchess, who had been so shrewd she had managed to make a northerner the King’s Sword, and the King’s Sword’s cousin into the Knight of Death.

“You should be careful he doesn’t become a bad influence to you,” the Duchess warned the King. “You southerners have no concept of loyalty or family bonds, not like us northerners, isn’t that right, Justinius?”

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“Yes, Duchess,” the Prince replied, awkwardly.

Duke Lionheart smiled, narrowing his eyes slightly. “We are all loyal to our family, Duchess, and to our great King.”

The Duchess glared at the Duke. “No doubt you’ll say they fell to an unknown illness. Utterly ridiculous. Then you dare to try and marry your daughter to my Justinius? The audacity.”

The Prince hadn’t expected the Duchess to dote on him so, but had heard that she always doted on her father whenever they would meet, even if she was a little rude sometimes. Even when his grandfather had died so young due to stress, she had personally come down to complain, but she had made sure that the King had possessed a thousand of her soldiers to command for at least three years, some of whom had fallen with his elder brother during the war against the Elves a decade ago.

The Duchess dared to complain in front of the King because she understood she was untouchable, but the King also knew that there was no one on this land who would come to his aid as greatly as Duchess Blacksnow.

“Even if he doesn’t come to visit this old crone, I won’t let you worm your way into my family so easily. Dig your father out of his grave and let him try, though he’ll only fail again. Still, he is, and forever will be, twice the man you can ever hope to be.” The Duchess’ eyes remained hostile towards the Duke, who had only recently come into power to claim the title of Duke.

Duke Lionheart could feel the heat fill through his body, but he didn’t dare to move, not in front of the King, and definitely not in front of Sir Royce. “I hadn’t expected the Duchess to have such a view of me. I apologise if I’ve given such an impression.” He bowed lightly towards her.

The Duchess would have continued to aggravate the Duke, but the tension in the air was quickly cut by the sounds of Sir Royce pouring in some tea for her. He offered the tea to her politely. She took the cup out of his hand and sipped the tea. Only the northerners could get away with pushing away all decorum, but only because their blades were heavier than those from the rest of Aldland.

What need of decorum when they possessed the greatest warriors in all of Aldland?

Throughout all of the confrontation, the other Duchesses remained silent. They had no need to make power plays against the royal family, unlike the north and the west, as they held such vast sums of wealth, and always made sure the King’s coffers were filled to the brim with their gifts.

Gold was greater than blood.

“Since we are all ready to continue, I will begin the meeting,” the King said, allowing them all to sit and bring out whatever foods and drinks they had brought. He wasn’t going to try and offer food or drinks to them, there was no need to aggravate them when he needed their support.

“I have gathered you here today to speak about the islands which we have conquered far to the south west.” Though he could have tried to claim the glory, it wasn’t in his best interest. “The Aswadians have sued for peace, and we have at least a year to stabilise our hold over the islands. I am assured we have two years, but it would be best if we quickly form the foundations on the islands.”

A Knight brought a large sheet towards the table, placing it down to the left of Aswadia, though it was much further away than its placement would suggest.

“The natives of the land are primitive, and are under the oppression of vicious beasts,” the King said.

The others looked to the King, wondering what he was trying to do. The story he was beginning to weave wasn’t something they had expected, but their eyes returned back to the blocks to the side. They were newly made, and there were many of them, far too many.

“We will liberate the primitive people, though I use that term lightly, for they are as much people as the gryphons which the Order of the King ride.” The King’s lips formed a patronising smile. “They are more useful to us as subjects.”

Duchess Blacksnow sipped her tea, before placing the cup down. “We have come all this way not for you to speak in circles. We are still family, Justinian, so do not speak like the southerners.”

The King smiled.

The others wondered why he smiled, but noted that the Prince was smiling too.

A Knight came, holding a large brown stone with thick gloves. The stone was as large as his helmet, but otherwise looked like a fairly normal stone. He brought a cork screw, which he used to form a hole within the brown stone, before he filled a cup with the brown water which came from the stone, steam flowing upwards. He pulled the stone away, which sloshed with the liquid inside, still near full.

“What is this muck?” Blacksnow asked, staring down at the murky water, which looked like it was water from a puddle.

“Please, have a taste,” the King said.

The Duchess had lived for long enough that she didn’t give any outward indication of surprise. The others had almost slipped up, but they remained quiet and neutral still.

Duchess Blacksnow’s eyes held the King’s eyes, wondering how he would dare to suggest such a thing to her in front of everyone else.

Fortunately for them all, Sir Royce was there, and he quickly picked up the cup. “Don’t mind if I do, your Grace.” He sipped the drink slowly, before his eyebrows shot up in alarm. The others stared at him, remaining silent. Sir Royce looked to the King, before placing the cup down.

No one dared to make a move.

“What is this, your Grace?” Sir Royce asked.

“This is a caocanut,” the King replied, simply.

Sir Royce looked down at the drink for a long while, unsure of what he should say. He had moved quickly to try and stop anything serious from happening, but he wasn’t sure what to do.

“If you will not say then I will have a taste,” Duchess Blacksnow snapped, holding up her personal cup. The Knight tried to pour her in the liquid, but Sir Royce took it from him, glaring at the Knight, daring him to try and pour anything for his Duchess.

The Duchess slowly sipped the drink, though there was a moment when she abruptly stopped, before she continued to sip. Her eyes stared down at the cup, still half full of the liquid.

It was awkward for the others to stare at her, so they too accepted the drink, which had caused the great Duchess Blacksnow to fall speechless.

They soon understood why. Whatever this liquid was, it was something which was indescribable to them. They, who had grown up on all the delicacies the lands offered, weren’t sure how they had lived without such a glorious drink.

“It is grown in abundance on the soil of the islands,” the King said. “It can match even the finest of teas.”

“It is worth it’s weight in gold,” Blacksnow said.

The others stared at the brown stone, trying to think about how they could make a play for it. Eastsea and Goldport were already beginning to work on the deal in their head, from the gifts which needed to be sent, to the details of the contract which would need to be signed.

The King then nodded to his Knights, who left with the stone, only for another to bring a small box, offering each to the Duchess and the others. The King was poured some tea, and he poured a teaspoon of the white powder into it, mixing it together before taking a sip.

The others followed suit, pouring some of the white powder into their own tea, before taking a sip. Whatever this powder was, it amplified the flavour of the tea to degrees they had never experienced before, matching the liquid of the caocanut.

“I have found the powder stimulates my mind not longer after consumed, and it has increased the productivity of the Knights,” he said. “I find myself able to concentrate on whatever I wish with increased focus. The islands have such a bountiful harvest of both the caocanut and the cao powder.”

The King had revealed the items to the others formally because he knew that such matters couldn’t be kept secret. It was best to share with the others rather than covet it all for himself.

For a price, of course.

Yet, he wasn’t done. These two alone could have assisted him in his dreams of glory, but there was something else which would strike the final nail in the coffin.

A Knight brought a large rock half the size of his torso. It was white with blue veins running through it, each about the thickness of a finger. He brought out a chisel and slowly scraped the rock towards a cup, the fine powder filling the water, before he mixed it together.

The King’s Sword drew his blade and cut into the Knight’s hand slightly, drawing blood. The Knight sipped the water, and as the seconds passed, the cut healed over.

Duke Lionheart leaned in, unable to contain him. “A healing potion made so simply?”

The chaos which would be brought to the land would be understated. This was something which was revolutionary. The rock could last for hundreds, if not thousands of potions, but each of them couldn’t help but think as to why the King would reveal the rock to them in such a manner.

They only dared to dream.

What if there were more rocks?

The King smiled. “We must secure the islands so we can extract the resources before the Aswadians find out what treasures they possess. We have managed to find a great number of interesting resources, but we haven’t managed to explore the rest of the islands, nor even the main bodies of land which we already control.”

Now they understood. The resources were great, yet, but this was something else. Even if the islands only possessed the three resources shown, this was unbelievable. They would be able to…

They didn’t even need to think of what they could do, because they would be able to accomplish whatever they please.

The King then picked up the blocks, revealing that they were not just black and gold. Under each piece the colours represented the different families. The deep blue of the north, the lighter blue of the east, the purple of the south, and the orange of the west.

“In order to control the islands, we need a greater force than we currently possess, and have ever possessed.” He placed the blocks on the sea. “A force which does not work as a city guard, or work as the guards for the nobles. A separate army, not one which is formed when called to war, made up of commoners in cloth with a spear in hand.”

“A professional standing army,” Duchess Blacksnow said. Most of the army was usually made up of peasants, as the King had said, but the officers were usually made up of guards and Knights sworn to the various houses, or members of the various Orders.

North Aldland already had a small professional standing army which was used to put down various threats around the land, and could be sent south to assist the King at a moment’s notice. The other areas also had a small military force, but seeing how many blocks the King had brought, he didn’t mean a professional army which was only a few thousand strong.

“A greater navy is required to keep the seas safe, but a great land army is also required.” The King placed down the blocks onto the handful of islands which had been drawn, though there were many more islands which hadn’t been accurately depicted. “We will create the Island Expeditionary Force, an army which will be tasked with bringing the island within our grip, and a Grand Army, which will deal with all the domestic threats of Aldland.”

“The Tribesfolk?” Blacksnow asked. There were a handful of Tribesfolk which they worked with up north, and no doubt in the other areas of Aldland, but there were many more who were outside of Aldland’s control.

The King stared down at the map of Aldland. “I do not wish to just create an army or two. I do not wish for just all of Aldland to finally be conquered, completing the dreams of my forefathers. Drakkenland to the north. Aswadia to the south. Noska beyond the sea.” The King smiled. “We will become the dominant power, and with our rule over the seas, the only power.”

The sheer audacity of the King’s words were not lost on the other great families. Here was the King who had always spoken so clearly, so highly, and he had suffered one of the greatest defeats in recent memory with the Elves to the south not even a decade ago.

“The town guard will be reformed. No longer will they be expected to join the army for war, they will forever remain to protect the towns and cities, and that is all which will remain within their role’s scope.”

The town guard had often times rallied together to assist the army whenever the matter called for it. The town guard and the army were institutes which worked closely together, and something their roles blurred together.

“Ours is a large land,” the King continued. “It has been protected for countless generations by our ancestors, and though the names of some families changed, our families have all worked hard to maintain the peace of this land. I hope that our families will continue to work together to make sure no foreign powers take root in this land.”

The King had to be careful. Right now, his words could easily be misconstrued by the two Duchesses, each of whom held the blood of the distant lands, those closer to the south and east, than to the north.

“No longer will we lords use our personal guards to form members of the army. They will remain by our sides, to assist our family from the plots and threats of others. The number of personal guards will be reduced to make way for the army. As such, I will make a formal decree allowing each noble house to create an Order of Knights loyal to themselves, with a number of Knights sworn to them depending on their rank.”

The Duke and Duchesses had almost raised a protest to the King, but upon hearing that they could form their own Order, they kept their tongues in check. They each had a large number of guards, more than those of lower ranks, though they were often expected to work around the land, not just within their own homes or beside them.

Only the ruler of Aldland had the ability to create an Order sworn to their family, but since he had decided that all the noble houses could form an Order, the number of Knights based on their rank, it was quite the offer.

“Each of you will command your own armies to keep the land safe from the threats to the land, but there will also be a Grand Army, one which will be under the command of a council, with myself as the Supreme General.”

The Duke and the Duchess listened intently to the King. So far he had revealed that he was able to moderate his own power, keeping the balance of the Five Great Families of Aldland.

“We will create outposts across the entire land, and soon we will bring all of Aldland under our heel. For too long have we given the Adventurer’s Guild too much power and influence. They have grown fat from enriching themselves with what belongs to us.”

It was true that the Adventurer’s Guild had gained too much power. Even the nobles of the land had difficulty dealing with the Adventurer’s Guild, who protected their own with a great ferocity.

“What of the temples?” Duchess Blacksnow asked. “They will not be happy now that you have access to health potions which can be made without their powers. Though you have your Order, they will not accept that there will be many other Orders, with the ability to create health potions”

“As long as the temples receive their dues, they will not mind,” the King assured. “The army which will be formed will need Priests. The council which will control the army will have positions for the various Priests, and the members of the Orders which have made their homes within our lands will also be expected to contribute.”

So that was it.

It wasn’t just that the King wanted to conquer the entire land, it was that he wanted to unify it. Though he styled himself as the Supreme General, he understood that he needed to pacify those with voices against giving him so much power.

“We will create it, an army which will be ready to move at the ready, to respond to threats within days, rather than weeks, and one which can be mobilised to move when it is timely for us to act.”

The King moved the blocks over the islands, and placed some around the map. “Once we have taken ownership of the islands, we will have the resources to completely subjugate this land.” He placed some blocks over the forest to the south west, the home of the Elves, and some to their north. “After dealing with the thorns at our doorstep, with the entirety of Aldland is under our rule, we will push our influence outwards.” He moved the blocks towards the lands of Aswadia and Drakkenland.

The King’s ambitions were great. It seemed that, after the loss he had faced, though he was still ambitious, he had tempered it with some wisdom. How grand of an army would this army be to be able to deal with all the threats none of his fore bearers could subjugate?

However, with the current wealth of Aldland, it would be possible to bring the islands into their domain. With the resources of the islands, no doubt they’d be able to bank roll a large army, one which would have rivalled the greatest armies of old.

The King nodded to his Knights, who brought large boxes. They knelt before the Duke and the Duchesses, giving them gifts they had not expected.

The Grand Duchess sighed. It seemed she could retire in peace, knowing that the King had managed to temper himself into such a great young man.

Aldland’s rise would soon begin.