Irilene glances out to the auditorium filled with senators and their youthful heirs. Her head rises to view the second and third floors of seating, each one soaring above the stage as the arena arches around both her and Falan. Suspended on pillars that peak to the skies- Spectating the two warriors who will engage in a clash of ideals. The lights fade, isolating the stage as the center point of this grandiose theatre. Those in attendance are the Highborn families of Valantis, each of them are subjects to a Noble family. Noble families are instated by the Emperor or Empress of Valantis, and they are sent to lead one of its key cities. Irliene appointed the Musa family are the Nobles of the Tutel Coprii and the Morcos family are the Nobles of Aagar- The financial district of Valantis. There are many others that she has instituted and they are not the ones who need convincing. These senators are the vessels the Noble families use to communicate with the public, and they are not at liberty to support the Noble family in charge of their respective divisions. They sway the public opinion of its leaders and they represent the Valantian people.

For the first time in history, Valantis is attempting a democratic vote amongst the people of Valantis. This is different from the representative votes made by the Senators in previous years. It may appear as though the senators have less influence than before, but this is not the case- and Irilene knows it. These senators are highly regarded by the public, and their opinions will be followed. All that's changed is the senators now have an indirect approach to influence.

The shadows work in their favour.

Irilene has never found the reliance on Senators ideal, but she has always understood their value. It is easier to trust the Senator that operates a citizen's place of work, or the community in which they reside than it is to trust a Noble. Nobles are much too detached from the daily lives of their people and Senators ensure the actions of Nobles remain aligned with the interests of the public.

"Thank you all for assembling in the auditorium Candorus." The mediator addresses the echoing hall of senators. "Today we will be serving a debate between Empress Irilene Adire, and candidate Falan Greyeul. Today, both candidates will discuss their perspectives on three different topics. Each will have an opportunity to make a statement and the opposition may inquire or rebuttal. It is designed to be a free-flowing conversation and so, I will be reducing my input. Do both candidates understand the requirements for today's discussion?"

"Yes, sir," Nods Falan.

"Yes, sire." Says Irilene.

"Very well, then," Responds the moderator as he licks his finger to flip the page of his notes. "According to your observations, what is the general opinion that other nations have of Valantis and its people?" The mediator asks. "We will begin with Falan,"

"Thank you, sire," Falan says, subtly bowing his head before looking across the stage to Irilene. He places both of his hands on his podium, jostling his thumbs briefly before deciding on his answer. "I believe the large majority of nations view us negatively. Irilene has done a good job of securing our allegiance with Bada Wang-gug and Gelida Terra over the years of her reign, but it must be said that Bada is the only addition she has successfully made to our allegiances after nearly a century of being Empress- She represents trauma. Distrust. And neglect towards any nation or race that is not Valantian. Our people have indeed had a very horrific history that the Adire family led us through. It has nearly been a millennium since then… It is time we move past our trauma and fear, as a nation. It is time we utilize the power and security we have created for ourselves, to provide the same to those that do not have it."

Irilene regards this as the end of his statement, leaving no time for the audience to react. "Fear- This is what they feel when they think of our people. Pain- This is what they sense when they think of our past. Trust- This is what they see when they look at what we've created... We have made the home that nations dream of. It is clear the general population desires to be Valantian- But they shall not be. Overextending our interests places us at risk of reverting to the days of our enslavement- bending over backward to meet the needs of others above our own."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"This is the trauma I speak of," Falan interjects. "Your belief that we will 'revert' to old times is not guaranteed."

"But why take the risk? How would you ensure it does not happen again, Falan?"

"Sharing what we have learned will have them see the world through our eyes-"

"False,” Irlene interrupts. As if calling out a lie that she would never allow passed her. "All you will achieve is the empowerment of their current patterns,"

Falan drops his shoulders, reading into Irilene's argument with a squint of his eyes. "So you believe the people of Luná that are suffering are better off doing so, as long as it benefits Valantis?" He responds.

"Yes." She answers. Boldy. Without the slightest hesitation in her voice. It is simple to her considering their past. "Our people are the most recent race to join Luná. Our existence is unnatural, and our ascension was hard-earned."

"We are slaves no more," Falan says, looking at the viewers. "Our 'unnatural' existence has allowed the average Valantian to live hundreds of rotations longer than the average person of Luná. We have more experience. More knowledge. It only makes sense we are the guides of Luná."

"You presume they want our guidance?" Irilene chuckles to herself, "They resent all that we have achieved. They would rather see it crumble than become a part of it."

The audience murmurs amongst themselves, Irlene glances out the corner of her eye trying to read the audience lying in the darkness of the auditorium. That may have been too straightforward. Valantian people prefer thoughts of hope and potential these days. Their egos have led them to think they are coveted.

"Do you not think this is their perspective because the Empress of Valantis has such views on their existence?"

"This was their perspective long before I became Empress."

Falan just doesn't know. How the leaders of these nations think. How they act. Their respect for Valantis is not from a position of admiration.

We are merely the last step on the staircase to greatness. Her mind confirms.

"We cannot control the actions of others... Less their opinions." She adds. "Why is it important to you that we have their hearts?"

Falan jostled his thumbs again, his eyes fixed on his podium, scanning the back of his mind for an approach. Irilene understands his caution. The Valantian people require a fine line of convincing. Faltering in your position is the first sign of a lack of will- Regardless of the position you may have held. At the same time, they require wisdom. A leader who can affect the changes they desire whilst still being a source of trust. If their leader is committed to a vision, so are they.

"It is important our culture continues to develop. It is natural for our people to desire growth- A way to contribute to the progress our ancestors once made. I believe this is the next phase of our development as a people."

"East Nihil invaded the West for a similar reason. We were created by Al'chem and enslaved for this reason," She causes, gritting her teeth in an attempt to maintain composure. "Expansion. A conquerer's dream."

A wave of whispers ripples amongst the crowd, reverberating opinions throughout the hall. Their tone is tense, and the accusation of being a conquerer is steep. And yet, the murmurs aren't of fear. But of curiosity. She's attempting to back him into a wall or force him to backpedal.

To waver in his views.

He looks into her eyes. Deeply. His expression doesn't shift or change. But there is a fury in his eyes, a fit of anger being masked by blankets as he snarls his lips.

"No, Empress. We already have a conquerer."

"A bond is more than a connection between two people of Luná. A bond is weaved by the hands of the gods into the fabrics of the ab'solut."

- The Valantian Co'nitor