CRASH!

The broken glass shattered across the floor.

Eres picked up another. With a powerful toss, the glass object hit the wall and shattered once more.

The servant scrambled to clean the broken pieces of glass up.

“Don’t bother,” called a cold voice. Fiona sighed, “She’s in her brooding session, you’ll just have to clean again later.”

As if to spite those words, Eres paused, “What are you doing, sister?”

Fiona crossed her arms. “I should be asking you that. The Temple of Admin came and you were nowhere to be found, off on a chase that should have been left to others to deal with.”

Eres sneered, “What is more important? Offending some scribes or the future of our kingdom?” The warrior queen clenched her fists, eyes lit with fury. “They cut the ropes of our ancient heirloom, Fiona and stole our labor force.” She got to her feet. “They even released the infected children from the camp. How do we know the disease won’t infect our own people now?”

“But you going didn’t change any of that!” exploded Fiona. “In fact, if anything, your presence may have only forced them to think of such a strategy!” She crossed her arms, speaking sharply. “Our best general now works as a barkeeper because you could not keep your pride in check.

Eres shook with restrained rage. “Are you blaming me? You have no idea the pressure that is put on me, sister. The components that I am forced to balance. You have no right to talk to me like that!” She glared at her sister. “You are dismissed, bishop.”

“With all due respect, I will not, my queen.” Fiona shot a look at the servant. “Leave now.”

The servant bowed their head and exited the room.

The Citadel’s bishop stalked forward, her heavy cloak dragging on the carpet. She pulled out a letter and waved it in front of Eres.

“Do not forget which of us is the queen, sister,” hissed Eres. “How dare you undermine my power in front of a servant!”

“My queen, while you were away, do you know what happened?” Fiona asked. She shoved the parchment into the queen’s hands. “The Temple has deducted our points!”

Those words finally made Eres pause. “What did you say?”

The queen grabbed the letter forcefully. Ripping it open, she scanned through its contents. With a frustrated yell, Eres crumpled the letter and tossed it toward the pile of shattered glass. “What right do they have? How dare they!”

Fiona sighed, “We are now ranked lower than Estate. It is only Oceanport’s lack of queens that has allowed us to rank barely above them.”

“All of this because of the miners?” Eres pointed at the damned piece of paper. “How dare they use unfair labor practices and mistreatment against me? The Temple has not cared for years! Why do they insist on interfering now?”

“Because of the Balance,” answered Fiona, voice tight. “That is their only purpose. With Four’s decision to retake Oceanport, she has set the entirety of Milror on a different course.”

The bishop shook her head, predicting Eres’ next words. “And no, you cannot go after her. We need her alive… and to take the throne of Oceanport.”

“Without Four, there is no tournament,” Eres’ eyes dawned with understanding. She deciphered the hidden meaning fast enough. “We need her to set up a court to start the Tournament and to raise our rankings.”

Eres’ fists clenched. “But, if we recognize Oceanport as an official kingdom, we can no longer recruit miners or demand our share of the tribute from the puppet ministers.” She shook her head, fists clenching. “The girl is almost impressive.”

“I doubt she even realizes what she had done,” Fiona rested her chin against her hand. “In one move, Four has managed to secure her position and leave us unable to retaliate.” She paused, “And now the Temple is especially watching our every move.”

Eres scowled. Loathe as she was to admit it, this time Four had truly won.

It was time to change tactics. She rose from her seat. “Redouble the guards around the miners and tell the Recruiters to pull out and station themselves at the borders. We are not to lose any more of our men.”

“And Four?” asked Fiona.

“We’ll deal with her in due time,” Eres scowled. “But for now, we need to focus on preparing for the Tournament.”

Fiona bowed her head. “I will begin the process of selecting a Champion.”

Eres nodded, resuming her brooding session as she scowled at the wall.

Varae, the great beast lifted its head to glance at the queen. The Sacred Piece had been silent the entire time, yellow eyes lazily following the humans’ conversation. A low rumble sounded in its throat.

Carmae had finally chosen its champion. Few things fazed it, but the beast shivered, it could feel it deep down in its ancient bones. A change was coming to Milror.

—

“Queen Mother,” Rex greeted softly. She glanced at the small crowd of scribes gathered in the throne room. Marcel was entertaining them, ordering the servants to bring food for their esteemed guests.

Queen Mother wore a high head-dress accompanied by an elegant purple dress. Gold etchings crawled up the fabric's sides in a web-like fashion. The ever-present veil that Queen Mother loved covered her face.

Daphne felt underdressed in her own castle. She took a step closer to the other woman. “What is all this, Queen Mother? Why has the Temple sent their scribes?”

Her question went unanswered.

“Where is the item I requested, young one?” asked Queen Mother softly.

Rex pulled out the small safe. The one that held Carmae, Four’s Sacred Piece. Placing it delicately in Queen Mother’s hands, she said, “Here, my lady. I hope my accomplishment will not go unnoticed?”

Queen Mother said nothing. Deft fingers slashed a line through the air. The safe split in half, revealing its insides.

Daphne’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. Such blatant use of… she didn’t know what to call it. Magic? The Temple of Admin and their ways were mysterious and unfathomable. Part of Rex longed for that power while the more rational side of herself was cautious, weary of the unknown.

Queen Mother sighed, “It is as I feared.”

She handed the halved box back to Daphne.

The queen stared down. Rex gasped. The box was empty. Carmae was gone!

Before she could ponder it further, a voice interrupted her.

“Your Highness, we have no need for further pleasantries. We are merely here to deliver a message.” Unlike the other scribes with their fully white attire, this one was a senior scribe. Their robes were a dark blue and he wore a hood over his face.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The voice was young, but Rex knew the power of the Temple could easily confuse outsiders. The scribe could easily be hundreds of years old.

“The Capital’s attempts at buying our favor are not appreciated and will be noted down.” The scribe’s eyes narrowed. “Please do not forget that we only care for the Balance.”

Rex’s eyes widened. “Marcel!” she snapped. “Your foolishness has led to a misunderstanding. Dismiss all these servants at once.”

“All of you, get out!” Lady Marcel trembled. Her liege had never used such a tone with her before. She turned to the incoming servants with platters of food and refreshments. “Take these away!”

The lady knelt on the ground. Her head lowered to touch the floor. “Please forgive my foolishness, Great Ones, and do not blame Her Highness. It is solely my fault.”

“Leave us, Marcel Gianna Sanchez, this conversation does not include you,” said the senior scribe.

Marcel’s eyes widened. How did he know her name?

Shivering, the lady nodded. Keeping her kneeling position, she exited the room.

Rex kept a blank face but her fists clenched behind her back. For a noble lady such as Marcel to have endured such humiliation… Daphne was furious for her. But the current power play left her unable to do anything.

The queen’s eyes narrowed. “What is so important, that you would dismiss my most trusted aide?”

“Lady Rex, despite your best efforts, Four is on her way to return to Oceanport.” The senior scribe’s voice was sounded like a little kid, but the power behind the voice made all of the room’s occupants shiver.

“As dictated by the Balance, the Temple has expressed that you must pull out your troops from Oceanport. As of today, your extended regency through the Puppet Ministers is over.”

Rex’s eyes narrowed. “And if I refuse?”

The senior scribe scoffed, “We may not have the power of Scalae on our side but as the recorders of all that has happened… we see everything.”

He sighed, gaze floating about absently as if they were exchanging pleasantries on the weather. “Our estimates predict that if you don’t pull out your troops, your men will face a revolt from Oceanport on the likes you have never seen before.”

“My guards are the best trained in all of Milror,” retorted Rex, voice assured and confident. “Four would have many losses on her side, especially when she has yet to earn the people’s loyalty.”

“That may be true,” hummed the scribe. “But it is inevitable that you will also lose valuable men.” They waved a hand in the air. “But it is not the Oceanport Revolt we fear, but what will come after it.”

“What do you mean?” Rex hesitated, “What will come after?’

“This revolt will spark a series of revolutions and wars across Milror. Many will die before their time.”

“First, it will be in Estate against the Court of Farmers. Without Sica, the kingdom will collapse. After the death of the farmers, the food supply will fall scarce and the Citadel and the Capital will be forced to fight each other for the land and resources. Whoever wins will then have to face the combined attack of all the survivors from the other kingdoms.”

Rex froze. The actions of one girl… had brought the entirety of Milror into a stalemate. “If I still refuse?”

“I think you misunderstand, Rex,” said the senior scribe. “This is not a suggestion. It is an order.” He paused and added, “How much power do you think you can retain if your army is depleted and your people starving and dying?”

“Nothing is set in stone until it has occurred or is said by prophecy,” rebuffed Rex. “I could win.”

The senior scribe sighed, “Quite frankly, Rex. I do not like you.” The shift in topic was abrupt.

Daphne frowned. “Are you threatening me?”

The man continued, “Carmae is an artefact of the Temple. Its chosen one is the one that I will root for.”

“So… while I can’t do anything directly if you don’t pull out your troops, I will make life as difficult for you as I possibly can.” His eyes held an unbearable weight to them, almost as if he was watching an interesting insect rather than destroying all of Daphne and her predecessor’s life work.

“Your fate is either great power or great doom. There is no in-between.” He smiled, “Will you risk it?”

Rex curled her fists. “This is unfair.”

“Child, you are young.” The senior scribe shrugged, “Take my advice, and do not mess with things beyond your understanding. The Balance comes before all else.”

Rex’s eyes darkened. “I think it is you who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

Who cares if they were the scribes of the Temple, the queen’s patience snapped. “The moment Ria, I mean, Four, has arrived, everything has been thrown out of balance! Why can you not see that? How will I pay my soldiers without the tribute? How will we defend against the thugs and villains of Oceanport from coming into our lands?”

The senior scribe laughed, “Rex, you mistake the Balance for stagnancy.” He began to walk out, beckoning the other scribes to his sides. “Where’s the fun if there isn’t a bit of chaos every few millennia?”

Rex stood frozen, alone in the large throne room. She turned to Queen Mother for help but the other woman was gone.

“I will not pull out my men,” screamed Daphne, trembling voice echoing in the large room. She wasn’t going to bend to the will of fools!

“Good luck, Daphne Mele,” called the scribe, voice soft but still able to reverberate in Daphne’s ears. “Don’t forget, the Temple is always watching.”

—

Under the desks, everyone’s phone gleamed. Fingers typed away as they texted their girlfriends and tapped heavily to beat another boss in the newest games.

“Man, I love group work time,” laughed one of the boys. His spiky hair was dyed blue at the tips. Despite the numerous detentions he had received from the Academy, the boy continued, claiming the hairstyle was a part of his self-expression. Eventually, the school just gave up and let him do as he pleased.

“I think you mean free time? Plus, with a sub? Hell yeah,” laughed the girl next to him. Her head lowered. “Bro, where’s your assist? Dude! Get your head in the game.”

The boy bumped his shoulder against his gaming buddy. “Shut up or the sub’s gonna notice.”

“Like you care,” laughed the other.

“Stop flirting and focus,” snapped their third group member. The boy huffed, “If we die cause of you two, I’m kicking you out of the clan.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Footsteps sounded down the hall. A face peeked in through the door. It was the principal!

The sub straightened. She hid her own phone and stood up. Clearing her throat, she announced, “All right, that’s enough. I want those projects turned in on my desk in twenty minutes.”

The one kid who had been doing their work diligently complained, “But you said we could turn it in tomorrow!”

“Yeah!” chimed the rest of the class.

Glancing at their boss’ unimpressed expression, the sub laughed awkwardly. “You must have misheard because you guys weren’t paying attention. Come on, now, you guys-”

“But you really did say-” protested the hard worker.

“All right, that’s it,” snapped the sub. “If I see another phone out, it’s immediate detention. No late work will be accepted.”

With a satisfied nod, the principal left.

The tension lines on the sub’s forehead eased. Crisis averted. Her eyes hardened. “I meant it. Any phones and it’s a straight detention.” She muttered to herself. “I’d rather not be fired in my first month, thank you very much.”

The whole class groaned. Bodies shifted as devices were put away (from view).

The boy with dyed hair banged his desk in annoyance.

His partners in crime sighed and put their devices away as well. With the soured mood, the three reluctantly turned to their fourth partner. The girl was staring straight at them. They reeled back.

Ria raised a concerned eyebrow.

Creepy, the group of friends thought. They glanced at each other. Wasn’t this the nerd that got into a fight with Daphne? Their tense shoulders relaxed. Target acquired.

The boy cleared his throat. “So, how’s our project going?”

Ria shrugged, not saying anything.

The other girl grabbed the paper. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the work. “How come you only did your part? Weren’t you going to help us out?”

Ria didn’t even both looking at them, gaze fixed longingly at the door as her fingers drummed against the desk absently.

The boy shrugged, “Hey, don’t be so harsh on her, there’s still time.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Somebody wouldn’t want to lose a good grade because her teammates didn’t finish their work.”

The finger drumming stopped.

“Yeah, because, unlike somebody, we don’t really care about our grades.”

The quiet girl’s gaze rested on them.

“Wouldn’t want to drag someone down with us.”

The trio smiled at one another. That one always worked.

“Are you done?”

The trio froze. What?

Ria rolled her eyes at the posturing. “I was thinking about something extremely important and you three just broke my concentration.”

Was the girl admitting to daydreaming in class? What a weirdo.

The boy with dyed hair tried again. “Look, you wouldn’t want to get a bad grade because your groupmates sucked, do you?”

“I have a hundred and five in this class. I could skip the next four assignments and still be fine.” It was Ria’s turn to lean back in her chair and cross her arms. “But you guys? Hah, might want to check the graduation requirement they just updated.”

“The point is, I’m not doing any more than I’m required to.” Ria set her chin on her arms, staring up at them innocently. “But I’d start working if I were you, times running… and I certainly wouldn’t want to have to retake the class.”

The girl straightened. “Mrs. Dee, can I use the restroom?”

“Sure.” The sub waved a hand in the air, gaze glued to her own phone.

Ria turned back to the group. “Next time you try to take advantage of someone, maybe think a little bit harder about the merits of doing your own work.”

"Bro, who even talks like that," snapped the boy with dyed hair.

Ria's eyes narrowed. She lowered herself to whisper loudly next to the boy’s ear. “I know you copied my test last week. Just a heads up... I changed all my answers after you turned yours in.”

The boy flushed red. He flinched at his crush’s glare, did the girl have to lean in so close? Also, why did the girl bother with the whole gesture of whispering if she was going to say something so loud?

He turned to see if anyone else had heard, only to find the rest of the class staring at their group.

“Ten minutes left,” called the sub.

“Times running out,” mouthed their caring group member as she walked out.

Gone were the days where you could just mess with a quiet kid and get them to do your work.

The hard worker on the other side of the room tilted his head. That’s right. He didn’t have to do this either. He glared at his group and tossed the paper at them. “Do your own work,” he hissed.

Ria sighed carelessly, not even bothering to take a bathroom pass, as she left her three group mates and the rest of the class utterly gobsmacked.