Few people ever got an audience with the emperor of the Dominion, and even fewer walked out alive.

The emperor didn’t take kindly to anything marginally threatening, nor any mistakes of any kind. He may have been a mortal, but his influence was vast, and his personal imperial wizard-guards were some of the best in the North.

But Lady Neria had an Unbound Lord with her.

She walked down a starlit hallway, her white coat fluttering in her speed. Her boots clomped on the floor and her breaths turned to steam in the humid air. Just a few steps behind her, the Unbound Lord Three glided behind her, suspending himself on a bed of invisible, unmanifested Essence. His black robes and hood hid everything except for his glowing green eyes.

An entourage of Dominion soldiers rushed behind them, but these were just mortals, and they couldn’t touch Three or Neria even if they wanted to. At every doorway, a pair of wizards in white cloaks and silver armour waited. They weren’t the guards to worry about; they were only Flares. If there was trouble, Three could kill them before they or their familiars (a wolf for every one of them) even lifted a finger.

When they reached the doors to the main audience hall, Neria took a moment to pause. She straightened out her coat and neatened her short-cropped hair, then adjusted the rank-sashes that marked her as a mortal noblewoman. A swell of pride rose in her heart at the sashes, as usual, but it wasn’t as intense as she remembered.

She was an ostal, and her horns had rings of grey in them. She was getting older, and her legacy wouldn’t mean anything if she stayed just another petty lady. This was her chance to make something more of herself.

She just had to set the pieces in motion.

The Flare-stage wizards hauled open the audience chamber doors, using their enhanced bodies to move the massive slabs of wood.

Neria stepped into the room beyond. It was a vast chamber, large enough to host two warships across and tall enough that the ten-foot-wide floral ornaments on the roof blended into a blur.

It was late evening, and braziers lit the hall, forming a central walkway to approach the Emperor.

Neria folded her hands in front of herself respectfully, then strode along the central walkway. In the massive chamber, each footstep echoed off the white marble floor and walls.

“How dare the Lady Neria approach my throne at such a late hour!” the Emperor called, his voice booming through the hall long before Neria could see him.

She approached the throne on the other side of the chamber. It was a three-storey-tall block of pure white stone with jade inlays. A seat rested at the bottom, barely a few feet off the ground, and the enormous backrest flaunted like a peacock’s plume. The Emperor sat at the bottom with his legs crossed.

When Neria made it halfway across the room, when the Emperor still only appeared as a small green-robed smudge on the throne, she knelt. “It is a pleasure to bask in your presence, Honoured Emperor.”

The Emperor, Tarren Har, was a middle-aged ostal. He might have been mortal, but he had an imposing figure—broad shoulders, tall, and a square jaw. His ostal horns towered above his head. As all emperors did, he had painted his horns green and draped them with golden ornaments.

He stood up from his throne, cloak flowing out behind him, and six Imperial Guards followed him. They emerged in a line from behind the throne, their wolf Familiars trotting dutifully beside them.

They wore polished, pristine armour of jadesteel. It shimmered and glittered dark green, and it had no ornaments. Green plates atop a black gambeson, and that was it. Even though their helmets had holes for their ostal horns to poke out, they didn’t even show a slice of skin or hair.

And even Neria could feel the tingle of their spirits.

“They are Blazes,” said Three in a soft voice. “If all six of them attacked me, they might overwhelm me.”

“Don’t worry,” Neria whispered. “We aren’t here to fight.”

Three folded his hands. If he had his Familiar with him, Neria didn’t see it. He said, “Do not antagonize him. You cannot keep your end of our bargain if you are dead. I need those elixirs.”

Neria scoffed. “I will not die.”

When the Emperor and his guards were a few steps from Neria, they stopped. The Emperor held his hands in a standard regal gesture—fingers interlocked, held just in front of his sternum.

“Get on with it,” the Emperor demanded. “Why shouldn’t I strip you of your titles, land, and company for this disturbance, hm?”

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“The Red Hand is returning,” Neria said plainly. “He is violating your decree to chase the Black-Haired Elf.”

“Of the two people you mentioned, Lady,” said the Emperor, taking a step forward, “I wonder who my bigger concern is…?”

“The Black-Haired Elf is venturing to the Mainland as well.”

“If that is news to you, then you will need to reevaluate the speed of your sources.”

He was speaking exactly how she remembered. She had only ever been in an audience with Emperor Tarren Har once, and it was enough to judge his behaviour. This was just a confirmation of her hypotheses.

He would behave as expected of a child of a thousand-year-old line. His hands were pale and smooth; he knew no discomfort.

“It would be news to your vassal lords and courts,” said Neria. “It would be news to the ruling council of Aerdia; perhaps the Autumn Elves would finally see through your farce and accept a different king…”

“Ah,” said the Emperor. “You’re here to threaten me.”

“Warn.”

He raised a hand and lifted a single finger. The guards marched forward, brandishing jadesteel longswords.

“Explain,” the emperor commanded.

“You must finish the conquest. Sirdia is the only land that hasn’t yet bowed to your rule—the Dominion’s rule—and you are running out of time. The Stormwall seethes. There are threats beyond the wall, and if you do not unite the North under a strong, charismatic, and unwavering hand, it will fall.”

“And so you threaten me?”

“If you cannot unite the eight kingdoms—including the Elven Continent—someone else will.”

The Emperor beckoned to his guards. They surrounded him and took defensive stances with their swords. Their wolves growled.

Holding his hand out, Three widened his stance, radiating spiritual power. Lady Neria’s veins shook, and her muscles vibrated. The flare of power was enough to threaten the integrity of the world itself.

“Now, let’s not resort to throwing punches quite yet,” said Neria.

For the past forty years of her life, Lady Neria had ruled over a slice of land in Greatsaad Bay. It didn’t have many resources, barring unexploited titanwood reserves. But in a matter of decades, she had turned a host of fishermen into a shipbuilding behemoth for the Dominion’s war machine.

But such a tiny slice of land would never be enough to satisfy her.

“Emperor Tarren Har, you speak with the pre-eminent shipbuilder in your entire empire,” Lady Neria said. “I expect you to listen when I warn you about the movements of your political enemies.”

“You build the ships, now, do you?” the Emperor asked. “Show me your hands.”

Lady Neria, still kneeling, stretched out her hands.

The Emperor marched forward. “Palms up.” Neria turned her hands over. The Emperor flicked the center of her hand with a long, sickly pale finger. “I don’t see any calluses. I don’t see any scars or splinters.” He turned away, his robe flicking along with him. “You are just like me.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“Older, maybe.” The Emperor chuckled. “I remember you, now…” He stepped behind his guards again. “It was back when my father ruled, for sure, and I was maybe fifteen. You came to beg for advancement resources for your county’s wizards, and my father denied them.”

An entire fleet of fishing ships had been lost that fall. With no high-level wizards to protect the fishing boats, the sea beasts ran rampant.

“We lost an entire year’s worth of harvest. Thousands starved that winter.” Lady Neria, of course, had not gone hungry. But she could pretend.

The emperor clicked his tongue. “Ah, but you innovated. You built stronger ballistas and cheaper alchemical bombs. You started cutting titanwood for your ships’ hull and building bigger ships, and before you knew it, you were building Imperator-Class Battleships for the Dominion. Hardship breeds opportunity.”

Neria refused to rise to the challenge. “Then you are breeding opportunity in the Elven Continent. You will find the Aerdians discontented, and that the Sirdians are training a pair of wizards more powerful than anyone could ever imagine.”

“The Black-Haired Elf is an Embercore.”

“He’s learning to live with his weakness. If you do not crush them within the year, it will be too late. Send the Ten-Thousand Horn Army to Aerdia.” This Emperor had a strong will, but he had his insecurities. Neria could exploit them. “If you’re afraid of your underlings’ loyalties now, it will be worse when you lose control of an entire continent. Act now. Take their cities and put new vassal lords in their halls—ostal lords, whose loyalty is certain. The Aerdians will do nothing.”

Neria paused to let her words sink in, then delivered the last push. “Send wizards. Send stronger wizards.”

And when the Emperor’s loyal wizards left, there would be even fewer to stand in her way when she seized control.

“We avoided outright military involvement of Dominion troops for a reason,” the Emperor stated. “The people were tired of war. The conquest of Pherodotes left the armies weary…”

“When the Embercore unites the Elven Continent and sends an army to lay waste to the Mainland, what then will you do? Will you blame weariness for your failure?”

“Leave,” the Emperor commanded. “Leave me, now.”

That was the best Neria could hope for. She hadn’t received an outright death threat, and none of the guards even used a lick of their wolf-Path magic.

She rose and stepped back, still facing the Emperor. “My lord,” she said, “you require absolution. Destroy the elves, annihilate Sirdia, and the entire North will bow to you as loyal subjects, for there will be none left to oppose you. Your empire will be complete.”

Neria turned around and marched out of the audience chamber. Behind her, Three hovered close behind. “You accomplished nothing,” he whispered.

“I planted an idea in his mind,” Neria said as they stepped out of the audience chamber’s doors. “Now comes our true challenge: we must eliminate the other Unbound Lords. Are you with me?”

“As long as my family gets the advancement resources you promised, you will have my loyalty.”