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Prologue

The Eastern City, Celestial Realm

Year 195 C.F.

A poetic landscape for the seat of my power.

Out and below, as the Sun began its ascent, the Chancellor could see down the Eastern Peak and at the vast valley eventually meeting the ring of mountains separating the Realm from the rest of the world. “The Bowl” some called their land: an elliptically shaped ring of mountains with the Twin Mountains at its center, one in the eastern hemisphere of the ring and the other in the western. The Sun crept up from behind the Eastern Mountains, casting a deep, jagged shadow across the valley. It was a beautiful land of fertile grasslands and forests with villages, towns, and cities scattered across it, threads of interconnecting dirt roads weaving them together into a blanket of unity. The people below would not yet feel the Sun upon them for another few hours, but through the window, he felt its warmth. Though he could not see it, he could feel the presence of the Moon in the west.

He turned from the window that spanned from floor to ceiling and wall to wall, his shadow mimicking his movements on the various seated figures on a tiered semicircle made of polished stone. The figures were joined by others, also dressed in silk robes, who were just entering the room, muttering to each other in hushed voices. They glanced at him with slow respectful nods before seating themselves alongside their peers. Before long, the final five Elder Astra took their seats at a rectangular table of dark oak standing several meters from the stone semicircle. At this, those seated on the tiered stone fell silent.

He cleared his throat and strode forward, his leather boots padding along the marble floor as he made his way between the table and the tier. “Good morning, Council. A new day dawns. What news do our nightly brothers bring, Aster Galdren?”

The figure at the center of the oak table spoke. “Our spies have returned. The Kingdom and the Dominion are weakening, but not as quickly as we would have hoped. It seems both have prepared well this time. The peace prior was long, if only to gather strength enough for a drawn-out war. It will be some time before they deplete their resources enough for another armistice.”

“How long?”

“Several years by some estimations.”

The Aster seated to the far right spoke, his wrinkled brows furrowing. “Should we really wait that long?”

Galdren sighed. “Fohir, they are not as weak as you think.”

“Nor are we,” Fohir said. “I strongly believe we are ready. We’ve had nearly two centuries—without the impedance of war, mind you—to rival them, nay, surpass them!”

“Patience, Fohir,” Ilacia admonished, who sat between them. “There is much to consider. Though we have grown considerably, they, too, have grown since the Founding. They are more formidable than they’ve ever been, and we have only considered conquest since the Chancellor’s inauguration. These matters take time. We should not be hasty in revealing ourselves before the prime moment. If we force them into desperation while they are still strong, they may overwhelm us, perhaps even unite against us.”

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“Not likely!” Fohir scoffed.

The Chancellor standing before them, quiet and thoughtful, turned slightly toward the window. “I do not think it is wise to think so lowly of them, Fohir. After all, if we discovered the Way, couldn’t they, out of necessity?”

“If that were true,” said Lo’rhel. “I would think they would have done so long ago. They heard our forefathers and rejected them. If secession of their people would not open their hearts, then I doubt anything could. Except perhaps the Realm’s rule.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Aster Lo’rhel,” the Chancellor conceded, “But I nevertheless deny haste, and encourage caution. Ilacia is correct. We cannot face both at once, not when they are both strong. Though they are unlikely to unite, a two front war is rarely won with zealotry.”

“Chancellor,” Odlea chimed in with her soft voice. “We’ve more than zealotry. The economy is strong, our resources vast, our Magic enhanced by the grace of Sun and Moon! Our people are trained, steadfast in their faith, and ready to restore Balance. We are eager, for we know we can do what must be done.”

“Believe me, Astra,” the Chancellor said, turning to meet the eyes of the Elders and the various council members sitting on the tiers. “I share in your faith. But it must be tempered with prudence and pragmatism. I will not mobilize our forces until the time is right.”

“And when would that be?” Fohir asked sharply. “Under your leadership, we’ve waited for five years already! How much longer would you have us wait for this opportune moment?”

The Chancellor smiled. “We have something the Kingdom and Dominion don’t: technology. Why not wait for the turn of the century with the element of surprise? They will have no answer to an assault during the Eclipse. We would limit our own losses while maximizing theirs.”

“Another five years?” Fohir gawked. “My people will not stand for this, Chancellor.” In the tiered section associated with his province, the council members muttered in agreement.

“Moreover,” Lo’rhel said. “Our enemies would take up defensive positions during the Eclipse. They would not dare risk open battle. They never have.”

“Yes, Aster,” the Chancellor said patiently. “But by the time we strike, our network of spies will have matured. They will provide us an opening.”

“Perhaps his idea is sound,” Odlea thought aloud.

The others turned to her in surprise.

She continued. “The time would not be spent idly, my fellow Astra, so do calm yourselves. We would use this time to gather strength, arms, and knowledge before using surprise and swiftness to ensure a quick surrender from our enemies. If we must pay five more years for certain victory, then it is a payment we should eagerly accept.”

“Thank you, Aster Odlea,” the Chancellor said. “This is exactly what I had in mind.”

“Bah! We have strength enough to defeat them!” Fohir growled. “I grow impatient, and so do my people. Let us—.”

“And that is why you would lose,” the Chancellor replied, holding Fohir’s glare. “Information and preparation are powerful tools, Aster Fohir. In time, you will understand just how powerful.”

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