“My Emperor.” A knight stands before me. He’s wearing the golden guise of my Royal Guards. He frowns, and his tone is solemn. “The city is lost. It fell from within.”
I stare across the bay at the rising flame and smoke. All I can see is the desiccated skeleton where a city once sat, stripped to the bone by vultures and foxes. “Truly?” A pinch of salt tingles my tongue as I say the word. The city is unimportant. There is much more at stake.
“Truly, my Emperor.” The knight responds to my halfhearted inquiry.
“Very well. Rally the men, we march to the River Vers.”
“My Emperor, Allai-Ur has fallen under attack, the revolt in the Glass Forest has been reignited, and the Yellari have been instigating border strikes to the north. Are you sure we should march southbound?”
“Did I say that we were going along the Silvered Coast?”
“We would have to directly attack the Hondari fortifications if we wanted to avoid the Southern Spinechill Mountains, my Emperor. With all due respect, I believe—”
“I am the Emperor for a reason. Know your place.” The man, who had spoken out of line one time too many now has a gag in his mouth as he’s thrown to the ground. Two other members of the guard pin him with a wave of the hand. “The Hondari fortifications are weak. We will march through their land with ease.”
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I wave my hand once more and have the impertinent knight dragged away.
The Western Empire should have been the half to last longer. The Glass Forest, rebellious, certainly, but comprised solely of mentally incapable Oak Elves as upstart kings. Yet, the rebels have broken fortifications and captured Seashroud and Port Dire. Scanda, or even Coral Sun Keep could fall any moment. Allai-Ur takes in refugees from the burning city of Il-Allad. Yet, despite the imminent collapse of the Empire, I feel nothing. I have my focus on something much more important, and beyond these worldly desires. I shall save them all.
The Ruins at Spinechill Range were the first we discovered of their kind. However, maps discovered at the ruins revealed much more. Three vulnerabilities in the Underground Haven. The final bloodline will be reunited, I’m certain of it. We can ascend beyond this mortal plane, and find life at the threshold. If Apocalypse is certain, then I am ever more determined to achieve divinity before it descends. Darkness, Harrier, Harbinger, Omen. Whatever name it goes by, the spirit of the past comes to claim another future.
“The Son of Eleven Bloodlines would rape the Daughter of the Twelfth, and from the wellspring, a Golden Child would be born. Harken back to the Old Days, Elvenkind, and the Return to Godhood shall begin with the Son, and end with Darkness.”
This is not a burden which I wish to bear. No. I do not wish to rape, to pillage, to kill. But it is my duty which I must uphold for my people. In order to bury the demons of the past, I must bring forth the past itself, and unite these cursed bloodlines. The Twelfth, and the Eleven former.
Purple eyes, peering out from a crevice in the wall. Seeing what they wish to see, seeing all. They hold, in that cold, noble color, the key to divinity present. If I have to kill to free our people, I will.
“My Emperor.” A knight kneels before me. “The men are ready to march on the River Vers. I suppose the ruins are of some significance?”
“They are the key to saving our world.”