David was met with silence from Corith, which meant that Keagan had failed in completing his goal cleanly. His contingency was something David had hoped to avoid, and when he got no response, he believed that was the case.
It was when he had gotten a message from Bernard that his greatest fears for the situation became true. He’d made his way, alongside several other Arlinians, to another soundline station on their way to the border with Nacilia. He always liked Bernard and found him rather amicable, as he was far less inundated with ideologies of class.
That turned out to be his failing, as he’d grown sentimentally attached to the people of the territory. Now, he’d willingly given up power over what was the husk of Freiweld.
Corith was useless now. The rest of the Empire had only heard whispers of its potential fall, but it would get out eventually.
He’d figure that out with Erin when he could. He had more important problems on his hands. More personal problems.
----------------------------------------
Solomon walked through the research building and found it purely silent. There was no regular bustle and no sound of progress. The empty space must have felt like staring at a recently deceased corpse for the man who had watched its creation.
David watched as the old researcher opened the door, looking extremely dour and contemplative.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” David said, sitting in the chair across from Solomon’s usual side of the desk.
“I see. I presume this is your way of preparing to charge me with some crime?” Solomon rhetorically asked.
Sharp as always.
“It is. We have reason to believe that you played a large part in the conspiracy that attempted to kill Erin four weeks ago.”
“And you have proof?”
“The splinter bomb. It was used in the attack. It’s a prototype weapon, one that you shared with me not too long ago. Very few people in the Empire have the amount of connections to give away such proprietary technology, and you also knew about the meeting and where it would be located.”
Solomon closed the door behind him and clicked his tongue in a moment of frustration.
“I told them not to use it.” He murmured angrily.
No…
The words hurt far deeper than any blade could go.
“I was hoping my suspicion was misplaced.”
“Intuition was never a trait you or Erin were lacking in. A part of me expected a situation like this to occur. I assume you plan to be my executioner?”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Consider it a courtesy between old friends.” David slyly remarked, gesturing towards the table. He could see that two glasses had been poured from a bottle of wine he’d been keeping locked away in his cabinet. He glanced over and saw that the location where the lock was previously located was singed.
“We were friends, young Arlin. Friends don’t murder each other,” Solomon said as he made his way across the room and plopped down into his seat, “Although I suppose I’m in no position to criticize.”
“At least you’re admitting it, unlike Orven.” David said, genuinely surprised by the honesty.
“Please, I don’t wish to be reminded of him in my final moments. Orven’s ego was one for the ages, and I hated working with him. He believed he was worthy of owning everything. That included your respect, and when you denied that to him, he thought he could get away with treating you as beneath him. His fate was a deserved one, if you ask me.” The old researcher responded.
“On that, old friend, I happily agree. I hope that is not the last thing we will be able to agree on.”
Solomon shook his head somberly and gazed out the window of his office. “How many igniters are currently on me?”
“Three. Four if you count the person watching by the door.”
“Even when you’re about to murder a man, you attempt to flatter.” Solomon chuckled.
David stifled a laugh, wishing that the joke were made under better circumstances.
“If we’re both intent on being honest, can I ask if Corith is part of this conspiracy?”
“No, it is not. That was an unaccounted variable, to say the least. Elm Grayson was never a man I took to be one for theatrics, but it appears we both were mistaken on that part.” Solomon said with a sigh.
“Keagan seemed to emphasize Grayson’s protege, the Corithian. I thought it was lunacy, until I heard Bernard’s story. Would you care to elaborate on what some of the variables you and your co-conspirators did account for?”
“I will not, because I know my limits. Do not mistake my honesty for any attempt to assist you.”
“At least give me a reason.” David pleaded, “You wouldn’t do something like this unprovoked. What changed?”
Even as he sat here, staring at the man who’d put threats on both Erin’s and his own life, he couldn’t help but feel some sense of fondness. A disgusting internal desire to deny everything he’d discovered and treat Solomon as a comrade once again.
“Nothing. My priorities of continuing Arlin’s progress have never changed a single time in my many years. That has always been my reason in life.”
David took a deep breath, watching as Solomon took a quick swig of his drink directly from the bottle, ignoring the glass.
“This doesn’t have to end like this. You can leave this room alive. I can protect you. Just tell me who you’re working with.” David desperately offered.
“Please, don’t feed me that strig shit. That time has long passed. I’m not long for this world, and the machinations of your downfall have already been set in motion. Neither of us can run from our fate, not now.” Solomon brushed the offer aside with complete apathy.
Fate.
That word. The idea that everything was predestined and that there was no changing it. David imagined his fate would be to be killed by the court. But that was just an imaginary thought, a belief in his head.
Ever since they’d gone after Erin, he’d given up believing in fate. He’d been forced to fight tooth and nail to survive against this growing threat that wanted to take every single thing he cared about with them. Fate could be damned, because fate meant he was allowing himself to be controlled.
“You’re wrong. I don’t care what this conspiracy has planned, I will stop it.” David affirmed, his attunement flaring up behind his eyes.
“Then we are all doomed, it seems. Understand I carry no malice when I say you are the greatest danger to this nation. You know that I am a man who acts based on logic and reason, not on emotion. Do not assume that my current actions are any form of exception.” Solomon said with a complete lack of emotion.
David slammed his fist down on the table, a crack in his regal mask forming.
“You claim you hold no malice? You and your co-conspirators killed Roland. You tried to take Erin away from me. How can you claim there is no malice?”
“I don’t hold malice. I can’t say the same for the rest. I have never once felt any form of hatred for you, David. I simply believe that the future of this nation cannot belong to you.”
“And who exactly should it belong to?” David asked. His irritation was starting to grow.
“Someone more worthy of the throne. Someone who will actually do the necessary things for the empire to survive.” Solomon took another sip from the bottle, relishing the taste in his mouth. It was his last drink.
“You already have someone planned?”
Solomon merely shrugged as he continued to down the bottle.
“How fitting. I remember you teaching me the importance of omission.”
“I taught you many things when you were young, David. I did it in the hopes that you would become an Emperor your grandfather would look down proudly upon. Only now can I see how gravely I failed.” As his gaze returned to David, he could see a tear slowly descending from the researcher’s cheek. “I always knew you could be better. Every time I saw your face I wondered if there was some way I could have prevented this.”
“But you can prevent this. You have a choice.”
Solomon shook his head dismissively. “Another failing of my teachings. There are few men with true agency in this world, and I am not one of them. You used to be one of them, David. But that is no longer the case.”
David scoffed, a realization finally clicking in his mind.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“You’re calling me David.”
“I am. It’s only natural to use someone’s name when you talk to them. Honorifics are for politics and pettiness, and you are often inundated with both of those. Calling you Emperor Arlin would defer power to you, which I don’t intend to do.”
He took a deep breath to stop himself from taking any physical action. Solomon wanted to cause him some pain, but he was also essential to David’s survival.
“What is it that I’m doing that is putting the Empire at risk? We’ve been winning territory the entire time I’ve been on the throne and our power over Sol has only been expanding. We’re on the verge of unifying this entire continent.”
Solomon laughed again at a joke David wasn’t privy to. “There it is. There’s that suicidal ambition of yours. You say that with utmost confidence yet you have no clue how absolutely childish that sounds, do you? Unifying the entirety of Sol under Arlin is a delusion.”
“And what is your plan?” David immediately pushed back, “Or is that something I’m also not privy to?”
The old researcher lit up in a way that David had only seen when he’d shared his breakthroughs.
“The goal is to consolidate. Recede our borders back to something we can realistically control in the long term. Keep a few extra territories outside of True Arlin, preferably Asarn and Rolith, but give all of the other nation’s functional autonomy. Now that Corith has rebelled, surely even you can see that we’ve spread our forces too thin.”
David nearly fell out of his chair, his eyes wider than they’d ever been before in his life. He’d tried to rationalize so many answers to the question of why he was experiencing so much misfortune, but this was unfathomable. It went against nearly every Arlinian principle.
“That’s absurd!”
“And your dream to become the Emperor of Sol isn’t? This level of growth was never going to be sustainable. Even with only a few territories, Arlin would dominate the economy so heavily that no nation on Sol would be able to challenge us. We would create a hegemon, not through war, but through trade. Simply give the nations of Sol the illusion of freedom, and they’ll bend to our every economic whim.” Solomon preached with unnatural glee.
“The transition from territory to free nations would be utter chaos. They would tear themselves apart in the aftermath.”
“I never said it would be bloodless. But what would come next would be a peace to last generations. Excluding Irebor and Nacilia, trade and treaty could replace warfare entirely. Instead of conquering, nations would specialize their trade and through that, draw cultural bonds. And since we would be the strongest trading power, we would have the greatest control over the culture without even having to try.”
David felt a rage boiling in him. This man was arguing that he was a person of intellect, yet every single word coming from his mouth sounded like lunacy.
“And what of our military? What of our nation’s beliefs and principles?”
“You’re really going to argue about principles? Beliefs and principles can be rewritten. Instead of Sol’s dominators, we could be its protectors. We would be the one to insure alliances or treaties, and act as the arbiters of peace. To go against a nation we declare an ally would be to face our might, and if your military success is anything to go by, that would likely not end well.” Solomon said, finishing off with a misplaced compliment.
“If we do that, what happens to the Arlinians outside of our territory? At best, there would be a refugee crisis, and at worst, a genocide. Surely you see that.” David angrily pointed out.
In an odd moment of clarity, Solomon sighed. His hands had been moving out in grandiose motions while he talked, but they slowly descended back onto the table.
“Sacrifices are necessary for peace, however regrettable they may be.”
Says the man who requested the use of child subjects.
“David, I am not a person who acts without reason. I believe in what I say, and I truly wish you could as well.” Solomon took another casual sip from the bottle and slammed it down, its contents now completely gone.
“Why would I listen to the words of a traitor?”
“I know you won’t, which is why you will die. Your ideals can’t change. The only words you will listen to are from the mouth you stick your dick in.”
David held back the rage within him, realizing that his right hand was already starting to glow with his attunement without him even thinking. He quickly quelled the light before returning his attention to Solomon.
“You have no right to talk about her like that.” David growled.
Solomon shrugged and took another appreciative look out the window. “That is fair. I don't believe she deserves the fate the others have planned for her. But the time to make amends for such things has long since passed. I think it is best we bring this conversation to a close.”
“I believe that as well.” David said, standing up from his seat at the table and reigniting the energy in his fingertips. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
“I feel a bit of advice would be apt.”
“And what would that be?”
“Abdicate. Fill your pockets with as much as you can and run off to some quiet place on Sol where you and your adorable Erin can love each other to your heart’s content and live happy, simple lives. Removing yourself from the equation is the only way you can survive this, David. But I doubt those are words you are willing to listen to.”
David sighed, looking the man deep in his eyes. There was not only a lack of fear, but a lack of hatred in his gaze.
“You are right. I will never stop fighting to protect my throne.”
Solomon grinned like only a dead man could.
“Then I am sorry for the suffering you are about to experience.”
Solomon’s last word was met with a chopping motion by David’s hand as the beam carved through his flesh like butter. Much to David’s dismay, Solomon was smiling as his head slid off of his neck and dropped onto the floor. His headless body slumped onto the table, blood gushing forth and pooling onto the table.
Goodbye, old friend.
David turned and walked out of the room, watching as the clean up crew stationed outside ran inside to erase the mess. It was during times of mental distress like this he was desperate to see Erin.
----------------------------------------
David sat there, explaining as much of the conversation as he could remember while Erin slowly took down notes resting in bed. She wasn’t going to be moving for a good bit, even with the impressive job the healers managed to pull on her.
“I get one step closer to figuring it all out, and we’re still in the dark.” David muttered.
“We’re not stagnating, and that’s the important part.” Erin comforted him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“At least we know their motivation. It’s insane, imagining that you can consolidate the empire. It’d be impossible for any Emperor to pull off successfully without dying in the process or causing the entirety of Arlin to collapse.”
“You could do it.” Erin said.
“What?”
“You have the intelligence and charisma to pull off something as massive as shrinking our borders and shifting our focus away from warfare into trade. And of course, you have me to help you along the way.” She explained. It was a compliment, but it made David’s stomach churn.
“Thank you, Erin. It’s nice to know what their end goal is, but we still don’t know how and most importantly, who.”
“Actually, I think we know how.”
“We do?”
“Solomon said to abdicate, right? It’s true that you’re the only person who could maybe pull off their insane scheme, but that’s not what they believe because…”
“There’s another Emperor candidate.” David said breathlessly. It was something he’d thought about as a possibility, and it was one of the proposed theories, but Erin’s statement made it seem a lot more concrete. “It’s got to be a child of the Third, right? Maybe the court somehow managed to hide one from us all these years as a contingency?”
A sense of dread washed over the two of them. The court had managed to keep a weapon against them hidden for many years, and only now could they see it.
“I love how smart you are.” David complimented, placing his hand over Erin’s, “No wonder they want you dead.”
“Don’t flatter me. They’ve been going after your support structures to cripple you until they can replace you.”
David flashed back to Roland and his death on the Snake. It was just the start of something far larger.
“But if they have the candidate, they’ve been taking their sweet time acting against us. If I was in their position, I would be sending attackers night and day.” David pondered. It was odd trying to put himself in their headspace.
“That’s true. It’s not… oh.”
Erin’s eyes went wide in fear. Something had come to her that had shook her to her core. She turned slowly to match David’s gaze.
“I know why they haven’t tried to kill you yet.”
“Why?”
Erin tightened her grip around David’s hand like she had to hold onto it for her life.
“He’s not 18.”
----------------------------------------
Over the two months after the attack and liberation of Freiweld by North, three things would happen for Arlin. The first would be the execution of Bernard Laurian, for treason against the Empire by allowing a hostile force to take over a territory.
The second would be the declassification of Corith as a nation. Not just as a territory, but as a nation itself. The land didn’t produce any useful materials outside of the magore and refineries, so David and his advisors decided the best option was to cut their losses and focus on their other territories.
Arlin set up barriers at any of the roads leading out of Corith that went into Arlinian territory, quarantining the entire ex-nation to make sure that none of the rebellion that existed within it got out and affected the important places.
Corith became nothing but an extremely large, heavily forested, patch of dirt. There was no kingdom to rule it or a government out there which would lay claim to it. Anyone who would call themselves the leader of this land would simply be the proud owner of a patch of dirt that was innately dangerous to live in.
The third thing was a simple message sent out to every single high ranking official and noble that lived in or with close ties to Vyris. It was a letter, printed with the seal of the Emperor handed out in envelopes with a message to not be opened except by the recipient.
The message was an extremely polite threat.
Respected Subjects of Arlin,
I come to you with unfortunate news. Researcher General Solomon has been executed for treason against the empire. He was tied to the same conspiracy that Orven Laurian played a part in which intends to cripple my power and hurt those who are loyal to my causes.
This conspiracy spans beyond just these two men. It is a threat to the sanctity of the Arlin Empire, and those who support the means to my downfall will be punished accordingly. However, as your Emperor, I am not without mercy. If you are a supporter of this conspiratorial group, you may save yourself by coming forward and helping me rid the Empire of this insidious threat. You will not have much time to take this offer.
If you are one of the members of Arlin who is praying for my downfall, do not mistake this attempt to give clemency as a sign of weakness or fear. I am a man who believes in the good that exists within every person when working towards a greater cause. I am giving those who are currently against me the chance to continue to work towards a better future for Arlin and Sol.
But if you refuse to be saved, I will have no remorse for the suffering you will experience.
Long Live Arlin.
In an ornate room in Duskarna, the capital of Pluma, a person who shouldn’t be reading that letter was cackling to herself.
Her ties to some of the lower nobility in Arlin were very useful in attaining such important knowledge as this. She needed something big to get back into the chaotic political game that was the Tisch.
Her mind flashed back to a face she’d grown to miss somewhat, and her eyes transitioned over to another paper on her desk that was sitting atop it like an irksome weed. It wasn’t something she’d collected, but rather something she had been given. And certainly wasn’t something she had wanted.
Nicole Garcia Pluma Allena, the returned head oligarch of the Allena family, exhaled a weary sigh and leaned back in her upholstered chair.
It seemed it was time to call in a favor.