The sun hung low over the Kanamayan Plains, casting its warm golden light over the Royal Palace of Gondaru. Blue-tiled domes crowned the palace, blending seamlessly with the surrounding savannah, while tall banners bearing the imperial crest of the Afari Empire fluttered in the evening breeze. Kaleb stood at the window of his chambers, watching as the last rays of daylight stretched across the vast plains. The winds were gentle, rustling the trees and sending whispers through the tall grass. It was a peaceful evening—the kind Kaleb had grown used to. A quiet evening, like so many others in the royal court, where matters of state were discussed behind closed doors, and his mind could wander back to his books and the weighty scrolls scattered before him.
Kaleb, at seventeen, had always felt at home in the quiet corners of the palace. He was a scholar, a thinker—his mornings were filled with oversight of the kingdom's vast treasury and its crucial trade networks, centered on goods like salt, gold, and textiles. The empire’s wealth owed much to the famed Agora Pass and the trade it enabled with neighboring realms, enriched by the mystic properties of resources mined in the Kanamayan mountains. His evenings were spent studying ancient texts, strategy, the lessons of the kingdom’s past, and even writing when he felt the urge.
Tonight, however, Kaleb’s thoughts were on something different. He had received a letter earlier in the day from a distant merchant seeking trade agreements from Gondaru, the urgency of the matter demanding immediate attention. After going over the figures, he had spent the better part of the afternoon drafting responses. His mother, Queen Azala, would want the kingdom’s interests protected.
The walls of Kaleb’s chamber were adorned with tapestries woven with depictions of Afari legends—ancient hunts, the founding of Gondaru, and the Great Breach where mystical beasts had first entered the realm centuries ago. Each tapestry served as a reminder of the kingdom’s storied history, blending human ambition with the mysteries of the nether realm. A faint scent of parchment and herbs lingered in the air, the latter used by scribes to preserve the precious texts.
Just as Kaleb was beginning to lose himself in the intricacies of trade negotiations and foreign alliances, the door to his chamber swung open without warning, and in strolled Ashona, his older brother. As usual, Ashona’s entrance was anything but quiet—he was a man of broad shoulders and a wide frame, his presence immediately filling any room he entered. He wore his usual attire: a simple tunic and loose trousers that did little to hide the muscular build he had earned through years of training and battle.
“Still writing letters, Kaleb?” Ashona teased, his voice a deep rumble that echoed through the chamber. He moved toward the desk, casting a casual glance at the papers Kaleb had so painstakingly arranged. “Who’s the lucky merchant this time? Another trade route you’re trying to open, or are you planning to turn Gondaru into a book-selling empire?”
Kaleb smiled wryly but didn’t look up. “It’s a merchant from the eastern coast,” he replied, his fingers moving over the ink as he adjusted the letter’s phrasing. “He’s seeking new terms for wool shipments.”
Ashona snorted, leaning over his brother’s shoulder to see the letter in its entirety. “Wool shipments? Really, Kaleb? You’re spending your days arranging wool deals?”
Kaleb raised an eyebrow and glanced up at his brother, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Some of us are responsible for keeping the kingdom running. Not everyone is destined to charge headfirst into battle.”
Ashona smirked and sat down next to Kaleb, tossing a nearby book aside. “Ah, yes. That’s right. You’re the one who will sit at the throne and make sure the books balance, while I’m out there making sure the men don’t get themselves killed.” He paused for effect before leaning in closer, lowering his voice to a playful whisper.
“You think me shallow, brother,” Ashona jested, feigning innocence with his tone.
“Your words, not mine, Ash,” responded Kaleb with the same false sincerity.
“There’s more to life than glory on the battlefield, you know.”
Kaleb looked at his brother skeptically. “Like what?”
Ashona leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and looking thoughtfully at the ceiling, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease his brother. “Well, there’s always women, Kaleb,” he said with a mischievous grin.
“Women, Kaleb. Women are another reason to leave the battlefield behind. Big, soft, comfortable pillows,” he continued, making a suggestive gesture with his hands.
“Something a little more… cushioning than this hard Kanamayan chair you’ve got here Huh”
Kaleb blinked in surprise, then scowled playfully, though he couldn’t suppress the slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ashona, must you always—”
“Oh, I must!” Ashona cut in with an exaggerated look of innocence. “I mean, a woman’s touch—her warmth, her soft skin against yours, her gentle embrace…” Ashona’s voice trailed off in a dramatic flourish, making exaggerated gestures that made Kaleb roll his eyes.
“I’m trying to get some work done here!” Kaleb protested, pushing his brother’s hand away, though he was trying not to laugh at Ashona’s antics.
Ashona only laughed, clearly enjoying the reaction. He leaned back in his chair and stretched dramatically, then gave his younger brother a wink. “Well, you’ll understand when you’re a man of action, Kaleb”
“As a matter of fact I know that you know…..what I mean. I’ve seen the way you look at that Auxudian girl with the large breasts but nothing to sit on,” Ashona went on.
Kaleb stopped his scribbling instantly.
Ashona snapped vigorously above his head as if it would dislodge the obvious blockage.
“What’s her name again Gordo?” Ashona pointed toward the door.
Gordo, who had quietly entered behind Ashona, was a short, bald but obviously brawny figure dressed in light tunic armor, standing firm guard of the doors. He came from a long line of royal guards who had basically become like distant cousins to the royal family.
“Hmph, Yanima,” scoffed Gordo.
“YANIMAAA!” exclaimed the animated general, as he adjusted his body squarely towards his brother.
“I… don’t see what you mean,” refuted Kaleb.
“LIES,” exclaimed Gordo and Ashona simultaneously.
“See if I were you boy” Ashona continued “I would take those udders and—”
At that moment, the heavy, authoritative voice of Queen Azala echoed through the doorway.
“Ashona,” she called, stepping into the room with her usual air of command. “Stop pestering your brother. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”
Ashona froze, an almost comically surprised look on his face as he was caught mid-gesture. He quickly stood, smoothing his tunic and trying to regain his composure, though his smirk was evident. “Right. Duty calls.” He turned toward Kaleb and, as if suddenly struck with inspiration, threw his younger brother a sly look. As he passed Kaleb, he flashed a quick, tongue twirl , alluding to the earlier conversation.
Kaleb shot him a glare, but Ashona only chuckled under his breath, his mischievous grin never fading.
“I’ll leave you to your wool contracts, little brother,” Ashona said, his voice thick with amusement. “Don’t let the trade routes get too much of your attention. There’s more to life than paper and ink.”
Kaleb shook his head, trying to hide the laugh that threatened to escape him. “Go. The kingdom needs you,” he said, giving his brother a half-hearted shove.
Ashona exited with his usual swagger, leaving Kaleb alone in the chamber, still smiling at his brother’s antics.
Queen Azala had entered the chamber before Kaleb could even rise to greet her.
“Kaleb,” she began, her voice calm yet firm, “I trust you have been working diligently as always?”
Kaleb nodded, standing as his mother entered the room. “Yes, mother. I’ve been working on the merchant’s letter. There are several matters we need to settle before we proceed with any new trade deals.”
Azala studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp. “I know you excel at administration, Kaleb. But remember, your role is just as important as your brother’s. You will be the one who keeps the kingdom’s affairs in order, who makes sure that we are strong when the warriors return.”
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Kaleb smiled softly, though there was a hint of something wistful in his eyes. He had always accepted this role. His intellect and wisdom were his greatest assets. But Ashona’s glory on the battlefield was something Kaleb could never ignore. He couldn’t help but long for it.
“What’s that” asked the Queen as she pointed at Kalebs desk.
Kaleb's eyes scanned his semi-organized desk with attention until he saw a blue velvet box no bigger than his hand.
He glanced over at his mother with a slightly erratic look. He couldn’t believe she was still pulling these tricks.
“Hmph a graduate of the Temple…….unable to detect Gate Magic” she said under her breath as she turned to inspect his study as she so often did.
“Gate magic from the highest priestess in the lands no less…”He uttered as he gently removed the ribbons from the box.
“How will I ever forgive my..”
He paused when he realized the contents of the box. It was a silver ring with a purple ruby encrust in lino claws.
The Queen looked back at him, satisfied with his dumbfounded look. She always knew how to shut him up.
“This is a..”Kaleb started
“A council ring” She continued
“You’ve earned your place at the council”
“I understand, Mother,” Kaleb said, looking at her with determination. “I will do my duty.”
Azala’s expression softened for a moment. “The legacy of our kingdom is not just built by swords, your father knew that. It’s built by vision, by those who can see the bigger picture. Your father knew that”
As she mentioned him, Kaleb’s gaze drifted towards the portrait of his late father draped on the wall behind him, a seemingly ageless man with curly white hair, draped in royal garments wielding a spear.
“Mother , did father ever—"
Before Kaleb could finish, a herald entered the room, his face drawn and urgent.
“Your Majesty, the envoys from Weshantu are here. They bring grave news of the realm”
Azala’s expression hardened. “Let’s not keep them waiting.” She turned to Kaleb. “We’ll speak more later.”
Kaleb nodded and followed his mother as they made their way to the royal hall, the heart of Gondaru's governance. The hallway leading to it was adorned with murals depicting the history of the Afari Kingdom: the arrival of King Khefnu in Kanamy under the guidance of the Star of Orius, Queen Guagala’s triumphant revolt against Zofhala the Cruel, and the construction of Gondaru, the empire’s enduring capital. Mystical inscriptions, faintly glowing with the power of Gesuit, a mystic metal mined in the mountains, ran alongside these murals, serving as both decoration and wards of protection. Each step Kaleb took seemed to echo with the weight of his ancestors’ legacy.
The weight of his thoughts grew heavier with every step. The Weshantu envoy had arrived earlier than expected. Kaleb’s heart quickened. What had happened in Weshantu? How grave was this threat?
As they entered the royal hall, the air shifted. The hall itself was a grand testament to Afari power. Its domed ceiling bore a celestial map of the heavens, believed to have been created by Kheru himself, with the Star of Orius at its center. The pillars were carved with intricate depictions of the beasts of the breach, a reminder of the dangers that had plagued the region they had left behind.
The hall was arranged in a semi-circular design, with Queen Azala’s throne elevated on a dais. Around her sat the council: a group of advisors, generals, mystics, and regional chiefs, each chosen to represent the diverse interests of the empire. Behind the queens seat and slightly lower sat the royal heirs Kaleb and Ashona.
At Azala’s right stood Vizier Wazan, the "Keeper of Shadows," a sharp-eyed man who had spent years in the study of mysticism and statecraft. His indigo robes shimmered faintly with embedded runes, a sign of his mastery of Neteru magic, while his staff—a relic rumored to have been crafted from the wood of the Orius Temple—marked his position as a trusted advisor.
Kaleb glanced at the gathered council members. To the left of the queen was General Omari, an imposing figure clad in ceremonial armor etched with the crest of the Axudian Wars, symbolizing Afari’s victory and incorporation of Axudian lands. Beside him sat Elder Zahwe, a high priestess of the Orius Temple, whose presence evoked reverence. Her robes, lined with threads of Gesuit, seemed to hum faintly with mystic energy, and her every movement was accompanied by a light aura of mana. Completing the circle were tribal chiefs, each representing one of the major provinces of the Kanamayan Plains, alongside historians who chronicled every word spoken in the hall.
The Weshantu envoys were already in place, their grim faces betraying the severity of the situation. Their attire, embroidered with the emblem of the Zenubian Sea, marked their connection to the vital eastern trade routes. Zarek, their leader, stood tall and proud, but the lines of weariness around his eyes spoke volumes. He had seen much, and none of it had been good. His travel-worn attire, though once richly adorned, was now dulled by the dust of his long journey.
“My queen,” Zarek said, bowing his head in respect. His voice was heavy with a sense of loss. “We bring urgent news. The serpent Garida has destroyed much of our land. It has claimed the life of our prince, and it continues to wreak havoc upon our people. We beg for your aid.”
Queen Azala raised an eyebrow, her composure never wavering. Her posture, straight and regal, commanded attention. The faint aura of mystic protection surrounding her throne seemed to brighten, a visual reminder of her connection to the Orius Temple and its divine power.
Zarek’s eyes flicked to the floor before he continued. “We need your bravest warrior, one who can stand against this beast and bring an end to its terror.”
A murmur rippled through the council. General Omari leaned forward, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Garida? I thought that beast slain a summer ago”
“So did we , until it came upon us” Zareck responded with his head still tilted in subservience
“A beast of that magnitude would require more than bravery. It would require a warrior with mastery over both steel and mystic arts.”
Elder Zahwe nodded solemnly. “If Garida is truly as the envoy describes, then it is a creature drawn to chaos and suffering—a Segan of the highest order”
“ My relatives in the east have reportedly seen more aberrations in nature, beasts with the heads of men and giant worms in the marshes. Something has shifted in the balance between realms.” He continued
Queen Azala calmy flicked her wrist. In that moment a purple aura briskly exploded out her seat. The room lie totally silent. The purple light encircling the throne dominated the room leaving all objects far from it in total darkness. All were silent and immobile; except for the queen, Ashona, Kaleb and Wazan.
Kaleb looked at his brother with a mix of bemusement and excitement. This was his first time being privy to the quiet council. Kaleb had read about Sub realms but had never had access to one in this way. Ashona’s hardly flinched, he was too focused on the conversation at hand. Kaleb caught on and followed suit.
“Wazan” The queen exclaimed as calmy as she could
Vizier Wazan, who had been silent until now, spoke, his voice smooth and deliberate. “Weshantu lies at the edge of our trade routes. If it falls, so too might our eastern commerce.”
“Zahwe speaks truth, for the past 6 months we have been dealing with an influx of migrants from the across the Zenubian. They are fleeing the saint beasts”
Kaleb was slightly frustrated at how out of the loop he was. He knew that Wazans reach was far beyond his own but how come none of this information had even crossed his desk
“Beyond the moral obligation, this is a threat to our prosperity, my queen.” Wazan concluded
Queen Azala’s gaze did not waver. “You make a valid point, Wazan.”
With a flick of her wrist the tempered noise of the court seeped back into Kaleb’s ears sending a soft chill down his spine. He looked around at the audience who’s resumed movements felt somewhat odd to him.
As the envoy from Weshantu detailed the horrors they had witnessed at the hands of Garida, a sinking feeling settled in Kaleb’s chest. The serpent’s power had only grown, and their kingdom had suffered greatly. They had lost the heir to the throne, and now, the Weshantu king had made it clear: they needed a warrior, the bravest of Afari, to bring an end to the terror that threatened their people.
Queen Azala, composed as always, turned to address the gathered nobles and courtiers. The faintly glowing crest of Orius embroidered on her royal robes caught the light, a subtle reminder of her divine connection to the temple. Beside her, Vizier Wazan stood with his hands clasped around his staff, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd for their reactions. The murmurs among the nobles were like ripples in a still pond, anticipation filling the hall.
Kaleb’s mind flickered between his mother and the words that hung heavy in the air. Ashona was the obvious choice to lead this hunt. He was the warrior, and his prowess was known throughout the land. But now, with Ashona standing there, silent, awaiting his fate, Kaleb couldn’t help but wonder if it was really the role, he had always assumed would be his.
Queen Azala began, her voice commanding the room, “it is clear that Garida is a threat of unimaginable scale. The Kingdom of Weshantu has suffered, and we must answer their call. We must send our bravest warrior to face this beast and bring an end to its reign.”
Kaleb’s gaze locked onto his mother, his chest tightening with uncertainty.
She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle. The room fell silent, all eyes on her as she continued. “In matters such as these, one cannot rely on skill alone. Courage, resolve, and the will of Orius must be tested. Therefore, I declare a royal gauntlet,” she announced, her voice unwavering. “Eight of our kingdom’s finest shall compete to prove who among them is worthy of this honor.”
The announcement sent a ripple of surprise through the room. Even Ashona raised an eyebrow, though his lips curved into a confident smile. Kaleb glanced around, catching glimpses of courtiers exchanging shocked glances. A tournament? His mother was known for her calculated decisions, and this was no exception. It was not enough to declare Ashona the champion; she wanted the people to see it, to believe it.
Ashona stepped forward, his voice carrying an air of amusement. “A test, Mother? You never make things easy for me, do you?” He gave a half-bow, his smile broadening as the crowd chuckled. “Very well. I will fight for this, as I have fought for the kingdom countless times before.”
Ashona thrived on these challenges, and his charisma seemed to radiate through the hall. Kaleb watched his brother with a mixture of pride and anxiety, despite his brother's brimming confidence this would be no easy task.