Lord of the Eternal Empire, Overseer of Vaults of Creation, Keeper of the Celestial Gate, Ruler of the Four Kingdoms, Warmer of The Throne (though some contested that title as unseemly), his Eminence and Grace, Victorious Regius the Fourth, was bored.

Victorious (known as Vic to his wife, Dad to his Children, and Vikky to one aunt whom he hadn’t seen in more than a decade) was sitting on the throne, dutifully warming it as was the mandate of the Regius family, while he watched a bunch of nobles partake in extensive games of one-upmanship. Oh, there was backstabbing, intrigue, the fall of houses, the rise of new ones. The problem was that none of those were aimed at him, and it wasn’t like some kind of play being put on where he got to see everyone, hear their motivations, and know what they all were doing. No, he got second-hand dry reports from his spymaster who mostly just assured him that everything was working right and no one was plotting to overthrow him. Not that they could anyway.

It was an interesting tidbit of lore, but only a Regius by birth could sit upon the throne. It was literally impossible for anyone else to place their posterior on its wretchedly uncomfortable surface. Pillows were also not allowed; they had a bad habit of spontaneously combusting if placed between the hard granite surface and the royal posterior. His father had learned that one the hard way, and Victorious had no wish to repeat the experiment. To further add to the mystery, the throne could not be moved. Not by any means known to the sapient races of the empire anyway.

So, a Regius sat on the throne or no one did, and Vic rather thought it’d be very hard to dictate your will while sitting in front of or to the side of the throne. Not that it hadn’t been tried by some very determined regents, it just hadn’t gone over very well. Inevitably such men and women came to a Bad End.

So here Vic sat, warming the imperial seat and watching nobles bicker, simper, argue, and insult. There was a rather interesting spat going on between Lady Gloria of the Thousand Fountains (the representative of the King of the East) and Lord Oswald the Stalwart (her distant cousin, who just happened to be in court for this season’s round of balls, parties, and general soirees). Apparently, a new barony was being formed in the Eastern Kingdom around some little place called Runic Rock. Someone had convinced not one but three gods to place unlimited trials there.

Word was that the King of the East would be holding some form of competition for the noble youth to partake in, and Lady Gloria was certain that only one representative of their family needed to be present. Lord Oswald did not agree, and had made clear he was going to send his youngest daughter to represent his branch of the family.

Vic had met all the children of Lady Gloria and Lord Oswald, and he rather liked little Susanna Oswald much more than any of the other brats. She was a good girl, with an excellent head on shoulders. It was too bad her peers would likely tear her apart.

There, off in a corner were Lords Jeremiah and Ells, both of them were having an affair… with the wife of the other. Neither, of course, was aware of the other man’s perfidy, or they wouldn’t be engaged in amicable conversation. Both thought themselves incredibly clever as they dropped cryptic hints to the other about their goings on.

Then, near the middle of the room was a group of young noblewomen, this their first time in the imperial court. They had their fans out and were hiding their mouths and noses. This did nothing to prevent anyone from noticing their goggle-eyed gawking. Not far from them was a group of young noble-men, who had been in the capital for exactly a single season now and believed themselves old hands at this game. Strutting about like peacocks and showing off for the ladies.

All of that didn’t even begin to touch on the other hundred or so nobles who were scattered around the large room, making small talk, building alliances, destroying friendships, and in general doing nothing at all worth mentioning.

Vic did not do anything as undignified as sighing, however his shoulders did droop just a hair, and his impassive face trembled at the edge of a frown. The nobility vexed him; so much power and they played stupid games with it. Not to mention the stranglehold they had on certain trades and most of the unlimited trials in the empire. They’d also done their level best to run out all the players, forcing them to the edges of the empire. Perhaps it was time he moved the royal posterior to perform some act of change to set everything on its head.

The real problem, he decided after a moment of thought, was that there weren’t a lot of things he could turn on their heads. And if he made any kind of imperial decree now, he might not be able to make one later when it mattered. It was vexing, very vexing. He was the emperor! And yet… that didn’t just let him do what he wanted. So, uncertain of what he should, or could, do, he went back to people watching.

Having just decided that there was nothing he could immediately do, Vic settled down to continue his rampant boredom, however, he’d just barely readjusted the royal rump when the Herald at the door suddenly went wide eyed and stood up straight. He banged his stave of office on the tiled floor once, releasing a chime easily heard through the entire room, and then said in a booming (and artificially enhanced) voice. “Now announcing Knight Commander Grand Cross, Keeper of the Records, Hero of Ledos, The Arch Magus Loren Regius!”

The room took upon itself the silence of a tomb. Those titles and that name hadn’t been uttered in this room in over a decade. The woman to whom they belonged was fondly believed dead by many, and those who knew better simply thanked their deity of choice that she’d disappeared. That she was being announced now was a surprise for all, and a special treat for the emperor. Auntie Loren always brought the best presents after all!

The doors to the grand chamber swung open on well-oiled hinges, making not a sound. They revealed an old woman wearing drab, common garb. She looked old, or older rather, but there was a certain vitality to her. An energy that Vic had often envied. The same energy that had allowed her to defy his grandfather and foist the throne on her younger brother. She stood tall, cane in one hand, face set in a regal mask, her white hair tumbling down her back in a wild torrent. With all the grace good tutoring and high dexterity could instill, she flowed into the room. Her presence a weight that bore down on all within.

It was there that the silence cracked and the whispers begun. The courtiers were suddenly all abuzz with speculation and worry. What was she doing here? Why now? Where had she been? What did this mean? The whispering ran rampant about her as she walked serenely across the floor and approached the dais upon which stood the throne. She stopped at the foot of it, as was only proper, and then curtsied low and slowly, showing a spryness that belied her age.

“My emperor,” she said respectfully.

“Arch Magus,” he said, choosing the least unwieldy of her titles, “You may rise and stand within my sight.” He gave the traditional leniency. It was rare that the emperor did not allow someone to rise, and it signaled deep displeasure, usually of the fatal kind.

Loren returned to her full height. “I thank you for your kindness and would show my gratitude with a gift,” she continued the traditional script, and then held forth her free hand. Upon her upraised palm appeared a box which must have been almost twenty-nine inches in length, nine in width, and seven inches deep. It was made of a beautiful black marble which contained swirls of colors in various jewel tones.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Vic reflexively used Inspect.

[Nebula Box]

* Type: Container

* Quality: Exceptional

* Description: Made of Good quality Nebula Marble, and crafted by an expert stone carver, this box was commissioned by a farmer to hold a gift that is hopefully fit for an emperor.

The box had been made specifically for this gift, it seemed. That was not unusual, but the part about the farmer did beg some questions.

“It is a strange thing with which you present me. But I see it is not only from your hand from which it comes. Tell me, who is the farmer whose work you carry?” he asked in formal tones.

Loren smiled. “His name is John, just John, and he has been part of our world for little more than two months now. While he shows only the barest spark of ambition, he pursues that which he desires with total devotion. At the same time, he does not shun the wisdom of others, and seeks it out when he finds that which he does not know or understand. He’s a good lad, and with proper nurturing he will be a fine addition to your empire.”

Vic inclined his head, the closest he could give to a proper nod. He then gestured to one of his aides. The woman walked gracefully down the stairs and took the proffered box. She examined it, visually and magically. She didn’t do something as sinful as draw a sharp breath, but the slight thinning of her lips and a tiny widening of her eyes told him that she was shocked by what she saw.

Carefully, with almost reverence, she ascended the stairs once more. Approaching the throne, she lowered herself and presented the box. Vic reached out and carefully lifted it from her grasp, then lowered it to his lap. Next, he took off the lid and stared at the contents. He Inspected the ten fruits one by one, fixing their abilities in his mind. Then, reaching into the box he tested the fabric in which they nestled, it definitely was a type of silk, but not one he immediately recognized, so he Inspected it as well.

[Spider Silk Cloth]

* Type: Material

* Quality: Exquisite

* Description: Woven by a master craftswoman from over 4,000 yards of giant spider silk, this piece of cloth is a fine example of untapped potential within the empire.

The spider silk was… something new, and quite interesting, but it wasn’t the main prize here. That was the True Portal Fruit, and what a prize it was. An instant Portal to anywhere from anywhere? Unrestricted by Portal Anchors? That was unheard of, not to mention a massive security risk. They had to be controlled, and clearly this John had been made aware of that fact, and chosen to send the fruits of his labor as a gift.

“Truly this is an imperial gift of no little worth. Tell me, where might this John and the Galaxy Tree be found?” Vic said at last, as he placed the lid back on the box.

“John can be found working his farm in the far eastern town of Runic Rock. Where he is the groundskeeper for The Galaxy Tree, the Gateway of Worlds, and the three trials which reside within,” Loren explained, her voice and face serene, though he was certain she was laughing inside.

Runic Rock, wasn’t he just wishing he could do something about the new barony that was forming? And along comes auntie Loren to help him upend everything. Now he could not only do something, he had to do something.

“Tell me, what claim does John have to these things?” Vic asked, though he already suspected the answer.

“John claimed the land, built the shrine and grew the tree, with his own hands, under his own power, then, in what I can only call a fit of inspiration, he beseeched the gods for knowledge, and they have given it through the sacred site which he has constructed,” Loren said.

“I see,” the emperor said with another inclination of his head. “Very well, for what this John has done, and what I am afraid I must ask of him in the future, he deserves a boon. As it appears he cannot speak for himself at this time, it falls to the one with whom he has entrusted his gift. What boon should I grant our young farmer?”

Loren pursed her lips, then nodded slowly as if she were thinking of something. Finally, she spoke. “Fairness,” was all she said.

The emperor did not smile, to smile would be to give away the game. Fairness? What a horribly open-ended boon, it could mean anything or nothing! That meant he got to interpret it how he pleased.

“Very well,” he said finally. “Fairness shall be the boon, and let it be applied equally to all who have interest in Runic Rock. I believe the King of the East is forming a new barony in that region with the town as its anchor?” He turned his gaze to Lady Gloria and gestured her direction.

Taking the gesture as her cue, the dwarven woman stood straighter and stepped forward into the bubble that had grown around Loren. She performed a courtly curtsy and then spoke in a strong voice that carried to the crowd. “It is true, the King of the East seeks a noble to hold these lands that they may become a part of the empire proper.”

“And that he may control the Trials no doubt,” the emperor noted without apparent malice.

“It had crossed his mind that such things left in the hands of common folk and the new player rabble could be a danger to the wellbeing and stability of the empire,” Lady Gloria said carefully, to murmurs of agreement from the other nobles in the room.

Vic nodded thoughtfully as if he was carefully weighing her words, then gave a heavy, almost put-upon sigh. “I fear, Lady Gloria, that I must put a crimp in King East’s plans, for a boon of Fairness has been entreated from me. The formation of the Barony will occur, however I’m afraid the gods must be entreated in the matter of who shall rule. I shall ask they grant a Limited Trial to test the candidates put forth and give their blessing to the one who should rule.”

Lady Gloria managed not to let her feelings show on her face, but inside she was reeling. The emperor, unlike most mere mortals, had access to the Celestial Vaults. Even if most of the vaults were sealed (since time immemorial and for reasons unknown) what could be accessed still contained treasures that would make any of the high nobles, no matter how wealthy, bankrupt should they try to purchase even a hundredth of them. Among these treasures was a doorway carved of simple oak and lacking any door to fill it.

The doorway, more appropriately known as The Door of Trials, had a singular purpose. Once in an emperor’s life he (or she) could entreat the gods for a Limited Trial and dictate its exact specifications. Those specifications had to include ways the trial could be defeated, and the reward specified must be equal to the trials of the challenge, but other than that there was little the emperor couldn’t dictate with the sole exception of who would win the trial.

It was inconceivable to the dwarven noble, and to most of her compatriots, that the emperor should waste his one use on a matter so small as the formation of a barony. What could he possibly hope to accomplish? Why would he care so much? What was he planning? These thoughts flashed through her head even as she stepped back into the waiting crowd, unfortunately for her, no answer was forthcoming.