The footsteps of the receding Dame Magda reverberated through the empty hall that the Old Advisor found themselves in.
Even all these years on from the great war, the populational has still not recovered, and with the majority of the servants, guards and workers being moved to the central palace, the wings were often left sparse and empty, this problem was even more egregious with the continual arrival of the representatives from the periphery of the Empire, since the courtiers and servants were being moved to the central spire, to project strength of course.
The rumours of a succession crisis led to droves of Imperial nobles, Kushite matriarchs, and even local leaders of villages and towns to arrive to the Dawn Palace, they may have dressed their ambitions up as reaffirming their oaths of loyalty, visiting cousins within the royal family, or even petitioning for lowered taxes, nonetheless it was clear that they came to see where the cards shall crumble.
As long as there is breath in my body, the Empire shall not crumble, the Old Advisor swore as they doddered along the west wing, the emptiest of them all. Over a hundred rooms, from bedrooms to ballrooms, yet there were only a few souls who walked these halls.
Still the myriad of priceless artwork was relatively clean, a few servants wondered the halls, only the oldest and therefore the loyal, they were placed in the wings on account of their ailing bodies and minds, they worked slow, yet it did not matter for there was much time in the wings, and the Old Advisor would not see good, honest people thrown into the wilderness, or much worse the streets of cities such as Melitine.
Work in the wings was almost a sort of retirement, in a few years the Old Advisor hoped to find themselves resting in the wings.
It was not their time yet, so the Old Advisor put down a beautifully formed Ghazali naturalistic vase and began their slow walk towards the central spire.
Along the walk through the southern wing The Old Advisor decided to take a detour and visited a cluster of rooms purposely left in perpetual darkness.
On the outer edges of the cluster of darkened rooms, the Old Advisor enacted a small night vision enchantment, not a codified spell but rather an application of pure magic, while slightly more costly than the {Light} spell, the night vision enchantment would not unduly harm true allies of the Dawn.
“Good winds upon you gracious Nocturne.” The Old Advisor whispered for they knew that his normal baritone would be closer to shouting for the being they spoke to.
“And may the night be long, Your Excellency.” From the roof fluttered down the leader of the Imperial Chiropterans. Nocturne Brown, even for a Chiropteran, was a disconcerting presence, her body lanky and bony, her skin drawn taught over her snout, filled with flat teeth that shone in the darkness.
As the Nocturne landed her long, thin limbs retracted to surround her body, and the blue blood vessels that ran through the membrane spanning her limbs disappeared.
Even the Old Advisor could admit that creatures of the night being some of the most loyal members of the Dawn Empire, had a certain irony to it. Nonetheless their loyalty was undoubtable, while there were other subspecies and ideologies within the Chiropteran race, the Imperial Chiropteran’s were most similar to the social fruit bat, if such fruit bats were 8 foot tall and masters of sound magic.
“The winds whisper Your Excellency, dark whispers.” The Old Advisor knew that without Brown directly placing her voice within their ear canals, they would be hard-pressed to understand the leader of the Imperial Chiropteran’s, this fact however did not mean that the Old Advisor liked the sensation.
The Old Advisor simply gestured for the Nocturne to continue as the glittering eyes of her fellow colony members peered down from the rafters.
“The succession crisis spreads Your Excellency, from the palaces of the Unseelie Court to the huts of the Western Colonies, beings of the Empire align themselves with the factions originating from the court.” The Nocturne paused expecting The Old Advisor’s response.
“Those petty children have spread their rhetoric this far?”
“Yes and no. While the leader of the Righteous, Markas Thiophane does have significant influence outside of the core of the Empire the-”
“Markas, Dianna’s whelp?” Out of all of Emperors children, the Old Advisor could not imagine Markas even attempting to usurp his older siblings, much less having any amount of influence outside the palace, Markas is my David’s 81st child, dawn above the boy has grand nieces and nephews that are older than him.
“Yes, Your Excellency, a good man, if misguided in his rejection of the emperor’s decree.” The Nocturne said neutrally. “But excluding him the other claimants have their own particular... indiscretions. I believe there may be a number of foreign agents involved in the groundswell of support for the less savoury factions and their ideologies.”
“Ideologies?” The Old Advisor questioned again, it seemed that they let their finger slip of the political developments, a scant few years ago the greatest ideological disputes concerned the shape of coinage.
“Out of all the factions the Righteous are most like Emperor Thiophane’s vision. The soft, wide, and slow rising Dawn, their main issue however is with Porphyrogenites Annatella.” The Nocturne spoke even softer, almost as if she was confused on why the Old Advisor was asking about relatively common knowledge.
“Why would anyone even have issue with good the Crown Princess, much less oppose David’s choice of heir.” The Old Advisor guessed that the younger children were merely jealous.
“As you well know, the Porphyrogenites managed the city of Melitine for a few years.” The Nocturne continued as she saw the Old Advisors nod, “I will be blunt Your Excellency, the Crown Princess encouraged and led an incredibly violent purge of all any magical phenomena. Living beings included.”
Ah that does explain the total dearth of magic in Melitine and its surrounding villages, The Old Advisor thought back to Anna’s attempted explanation involving astronomical influences dissolving magical energies. The Old Advisor knew she was wrong, but they believed her misguided theory came from a good place. Now it was clear that her story was a total fabrication.
“Proceed.” The Old Advisor spoke still reeling from this new understanding of the Empire’s heir.
“There are a number of other factions which are equally as radical, ranging from the Honor-bound and their patriarchal hopes of returning to ‘old ways’ before the Great War, or the Truth-Bound and their efforts to enforce and grow the naturally developing matriarchy in the Empire.”
“And these factions have spread to every inch of the Dawn Empire.” The Old Advisor was incredibly sceptical, not of the Nocturne’s honesty, for it was proven beyond a doubt, but sceptical of the widespread socio-economic issues that would encourage such radical responses.
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While the Old Advisor paid rapt attention to the ‘hard power’ aspects of their political education, they did wish they paid more attention to the theoretical lectures that were often encouraged in his young adulthood.
Still in that time, understanding of logistics, being able to navigate existing institutions, and the best methods in true power projection seemed to be a much more useful set of skills to have. The Old Advisor could never imagine they would be architect of a whole new world, nor expected to quasi-rule it; they knew they had made many mistakes, yet compared to the post-war world, this was paradise, though it seemed that not all believed so.
“Exactly, there must be a group of agitators purposely spreading the most polarising factions, no other reason can explain the speed and power off such feelings.” Nocturne Brown paused as an inconspicuous gust of wind wafted down from the rafters, “the crux of the issue, Your Excellency, is that law and order is breaking down across the Empire. Even as close as Melitine the local authorities flaunt their disrespect; the barbaric blender has been reintroduced just this morning a set of 12 aspirants were brutalised, I believe only a single member survived, albeit with horrific injuries.”
“See about bringing that aspirant in to the palace, their testimony will be vital in ensuring that horrific practice stays outlawed.” The Old Advisor mentioned, already theorizing on who the agitating agent could be.
The blender while surely life changing to the victims, for Dawn Empire it was fairly insignificant break of the natural order. In the grand scheme of things there were much more pressing issues, not even considering the prophecy in the bowels of the palace, nor the identity of the Mantis.
“Alongside that Nocturne, send some agents to Isle of Croagh, we need eyes upon their maturation ceremony.”
“How a decade can pass in a minute, Your Excellency.” The Nocturne spoke softly, as she let out a soft thrumming noise that saw a few of her colony drop from the roof and fly out of the halls. Presumably to act as or find agents to infiltrate the Croaghan’s most private rituals.
“Seemingly so,” The Old Advisor was feeling the weight of the years, “still it would be best to understand the skills, mindsets, and motivations of the next generation of the Witches.”
From the roof a cacophony of hisses rang out, and eventually three small Chiropteran’s disembarked and flew out of the window, covered in long flowing cloaks designed to block out the daylight that harmed their thin membranes.
The Nocturne opened her snout to speak, before she was interrupted by the fluttering of wings, interspersed with bangs along the floorboard.
Out of the darkness came a small half-Chiropteran, the midnight black membrane of the Chiropteran closer to an ashy grey that covered her young frame, yet even at her young age she was larger than almost all of her family living within the Dawn Palace.
The little girl hopped along the dark, gliding when she was not touching the floor, and bouncing back up when she was.
Wlaida’s, for that was the girls name, wings were relatively stunted and short, yet unlike her other Chiropteran’s her hands and her wings were not the same limbs, and therefore she had a pair of arms firmly rooted in front of her wings.
“Mother, mother, there’s something special happening, like you told me to watch out for.” Wlaida came bounding up.
The Nocturne opened her mouth to respond to her daughter but was interrupted when the girl turned towards the Old Advisor.
“Oh, hello uncle, have you seen the special guests, everyone’s talking about them, even Gabe the kitchen boy and he never finds anything special, and Louise but she’s always calling everything special, so it doesn’t matter that much. But it really is special, honestly.” The little girl was the exact opposite to her mother, who was both stiff and taciturn, yet the Old Advisor never interrupted, not only because it was good for her development, but because it always brought a smile to their face hearing Wlaida’s energy.
It didn’t hurt that the Wlaida was surprisingly perceptive.
“Wladia. Take your time and remember your manners.” The Nocturne stiffly looked at the girl.
“Sorry, sorry, uncle Your Excellency,” The Nocturne sighed, “have you seen the special guests?” Wladia finished attempting to put on a noble voice.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t. Could you tell me about them?”
“Well first a few of them reached the palace gates in the morning, but some of them left with one of my friends Uzhe and her family, but then more and more kept coming and they kept crying like big babies, even worse than Lousie, and so then Princess Annatella went down and was saying they should be executed for attacking the peace, but then Prince Markas came and whispered in her ear, and then she let them in, so then there in the Throne room and everyone’s going over to see what the Emperor has to say, but then there’s still more coming from the road, but these ones are covered in blood and are dirty, so their getting the Royal Guards to go out and hunt the monsters.” Wladia must have had the greatest set of lungs in the Empire for she nary took a breath in her retelling of this strange development.
“Oh, oh and their all young, and their all nobles, well almost all of them.” The girl continued.
“And did you speak with any of them?” The Nocturne questioned her daughter.
“No, Prince Markas stopped anyone from speaking to them, apart from himself, and now most are in the throne room, but I was smart, and I went to Uzhe, and her aunties hid a few of the Outworlders in their tent compound. Also, most of them have soft, fat faces, like the people in the palace, some of the older ones look like the people in Melitine.”
“Wladia Brown, I told you stop going to that place, it is not safe.” The Nocturne spoke glossing over some vital information, normally the Nocturne was incredibly alert, yet everyone has their blind spots. The Old Advisor knew that better than anyone.
“Uzhe is from the steps, correct?” The Old Advisor questioned Wladia, who was already hopping in place, raring to go back the Throne room.
“Yeah, and she always wears pretty bands on her hooves, I’m going to put them on my wings as well.”
The Centaurs of the western steppes were good and honourable people, the ‘Outworlders’ would be fine with them for nonce.
“Ah, I assure you they would like very nice Wladia, but would you please escort my old self to the Throne room, I would like to meet these visitors myself.”
“Of course, uncle, but you can’t be pretend to be slow, we’re going to miss everything fun.” Wladia took of bounding threw the dark and the Old Advisor couldn’t not indulge the girl in her wishes, and anyway a little bit of shock and awe would be beneficial in these coming months.
The Old Advisor brought up their system and perused some of the spells.
Momentum non designatum ut vitalis, reservatis potentiae thesauris limitatis.
Ratio defectus. Non plene integratur. Processus octo adhuc non-completus. Ratio defectus. Non plene integratur. Processus octo adhuc non-completus.
Placet referre quaestionem ad concilium Croagh et Thillil magam.
Ratio defectus. Non plene integratur. Processus octo adhuc non-completus. Ratio defectus. Non plene integratur. Processus octo adhuc non-completus. Ratio defectus. Non plene integratur. Processus octo adhuc non-completus.
A knife like pain speared through the Old Advisors head, and they quickly dismissed the box of gibberish.
It was clear that there was great potential in this system, but this almost random failure was the greatest reason for the lack of utilisation, and potentially one of the reasons for the growing instability within the Dawn Empire.
This was the reason that the Emperor asked them to solve the system; with alarming frequency the box would appear, not as a representation of who they were, but as a painful punishment. The Old Advisor remembered long, painful nights slowly deciphering the language of this failure. There seemed to be almost no records of this lost language, either it was lost in the Great War period, or even in the bygone era of the Warring States.
Nonetheless there were hints and through this they worked out, what needed to be done, when they started 5 'processes' were already completed, in this last year they have personally completed 2, and the mysterious agent completed 1.
All that remains is the elusive eight process.
For now The Old Magic would work best. The Old Advisor didn’t like to use it, for it reminded them of the Great War, yet what was mental anguish compared to a coming storm of chaos.
They allowed the magic of the world to suffuse into their very being and willed the laws of reality to become malleable.
The Old Advisor rose from the floor, golden panes of light followed as the Old Advisor walked through the sky, each single shuffle took the Old Advisor across half a room, and the golden panes of light coalesced behind themselves, forming a great geometric shape.
Still the Old Advisor could not match Wladia’s frantic pace, nor her boisterous laugh, though the Old Advisor certainly did try, on both accounts, especially in the more deserted parts of the Palace, where very few could hear The Old Advisor’s snorting laughter as they both raced through the halls.