“Long may he reign.” The divided courtiers intoned; their words floated through the halls of flawless marble, around the silk banners of the varied kingdoms, above the priceless relics that adorned the palace of the Everlasting Dawn.

The last {Mage} {Wise Old Advisor} looked down upon the glorious throne room and felt the weight of the years strain greater upon him, Grandfather was thrice my age and yet he was still prancing through the battlefield… until the Final War that is. The {Wise Old Advisor}, for that is all they are seen as in these waning days, shook their head before they descended into the memories of darker yet greater times, as was their want. For their {Aging Emperor} David Thiophane, the Saviour of Humanity, the Rising Sun, Father of Nations, needed them, now more than ever with these dark days looming.

The Old Advisor looked down from their pedestal below the radiant Dawn Throne upon the courtiers dribbling out the throne room, primarily the dozens of children and their respective grandchildren who form factions within court, such as the Truth-Bound, the Loyalists, or even the Righteous among other such unintentionally ironically named factions.

Around the periphery of these factions’ flit vital members of the court such as Porphyrogenites Annatella Thiophane attempting to secure the Empire, though with the imminent death of the old ways alongside her own personage this was a difficult task, Crown Princess Annatella was her common title, while their beloved Emperor declared his oldest child Annatella his heir, the court, her brothers, and sisters protested. Heavily.

These feelings were only exasperated by the very laws that allowed Emperor David to unite the disparate Kingdoms, fiefs and even separate species under the glow of the Everlasting Dawn; on the hour of the Great Enemy’s defeat a terrible curse roared out from the West, far removed from where the Final War was fought, and attempted to devour the very lifeforce of the natural world, in a great communion involving the soon-to-be Emperor, the not yet Old Advisor, the Matriarch of Kush and the Witches of Croagh, who quite vexingly were one of the only peoples not to immediately join the war effort, The Advisor thought bitterly.

The Old Advisor, Emperor and the Kushites temporarily held the curse back through magic, majesty, and pure force of will, while the Witches of Croagh were enough to limit the curse to only utilise male energies, a few males of most species survived, whether that be down to self-identity, luck or some other factor, the Old Advisor could not say.

What they could say however, was that the surviving peoples of the world would have fractured under the competing claims, grudges, and royal prerogatives that existed before the Final War, especially since all the former forms of authority were now dead or corrupted.

Therefore , David son of Jacob, hero of the Final War, once a lowly blacksmith was clearly the best solution to stop the impending chaos, being the only male with any sort of ties to now almost extinct nobility, albeit 6 generations removed, nonetheless the Old Advisor ‘found’ documents which in short, after months of negotiation, ensured that the furthest removed male descendant of the Royal family would be heir, only if the nobility and any other claimants to the Dawn Throne could not come to an unanimous consensus on who should be heir.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

In the aftermath of the Final War this seemed to be a masterstroke, with civilisation slowly being rebuilt under Emperor David’s wise and just guidance. The Saviour of Mankind was the perfect ruler, and for almost 3 decades he ruled in peaceful, prosperous, and, bountiful Empire.

The Old Advisor heard the {Aging Emperors} 31st son deride an important representative from the Mothite principalities, the representatives’ wings began to flutter with disdain, potentially too bountiful with all the fruits of my Davids loins infesting these halls, his glory must have been corrupted by the wombs of their mothers. How else could such decadence, incompetence and impudence come from my radiant David. The Old Advisor knew their thoughts about the children of their David were influenced by emotions, yet this did not mean that these thoughts were totally unwarranted.

“I can always tell when you think dark thoughts my oldest friend.” His Emperor declared, with a hint of the strength and vigour that embodied David half a lifetime ago, all thanks to this ‘system’ that suddenly appeared upon the 29th year after the end of the Final War.

This new system has turned Emperor David Thiophane into {Aging Emperor} David and himself from the Grand Deacon into {Wise Old Advisor} while the Old Advisor was perturbed by their loss of magical power, the emperor commanded themselves to uncover the meaning of this new system.

The last courtiers departed from the Throne room and the Old Advisor could finally speak freely.

“Dark thoughts or not, I praise the Dawn that this new system can only be accessed through the throne.” The Old Advisor muttered looking upon the golden rays that emanate from the 8-foot-high revolving sphere of light, within such sphere rests his Emperor looking down upon the path of a thousand pearls that lead to the throne. His bleach blonde hair gone to white straw, his once luxurious beard little more than whispers in the wind, and his firm body now emaciated, though his piercing blue eyes still bely a strength rarely seen, especially within this new generation.

“I can also see my children’s dark thoughts; their ambition burns every time they look upon the Dawn Throne. Sometimes I wonder whether they look at the Throne or purely at these needlessly complicated status screens.” The emperor confided in his oldest companion. “We should have just left back in the old days, just me and you in a little farm, with apple trees, pear trees, apricot trees, pl-”

“Yes, my Emperor it would have been beautiful. Yet we are here now and the only way to go is forward.”

“The only way to go is forward.” The {Aging Emperor} responded as he descended from his bubble and grasped the {Wise Old Advisor} broad shoulders. “The arrival of the system worries me, the first message arrived in a year ago tomorrow, the anniversary of the end of the Final War. Find out the meaning of this system, the where, the what and especially the why, do this for me, just one last task my sun.”

The Old Advisor was tired oh so very tired, but they would do it. As they always did for their love.