Ruckanos stumbled out of the Tower, wincing as pain shot through every inch of his body. His lord father had been ruling for several lifetimes before Ruckanos had ever been born. In that time, he had learned precisely how much damage a human body could take and survive. Knowledge that had been applied to him most thoroughly.
A Tower Guard behind him shoved his back, sending a fresh wave of pain surging through him.
“Come on, move it!”
Ruckanos knew better than to glower or retort to the man’s barking. Once upon a time, even the mightiest of the Tower Guard would grovel at his feet. Now, they would not intervene if even the lowliest peasant insulted him.
And Ruckanos knew why. Oh, he had been very thoroughly and repeatedly instructed as to exactly what he had done. Firstly, his frivolous, unnecessary, and preemptive celebrations had cost him his Tower. The knowledge that he had lost his chance at the power, authority, wealth, long life, and blessing of the gods that were all within his grasp was terrible enough. He had then been very much made aware that he had cost his lord father an extra seat at the Conclave, on top of all the humiliation and loss of clout that came with this egregious failure. He was even informed that the High Council itself was getting involved. He learned that was true when a Censor arrived at his father’s Tower and interrogated him.
And he had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that all his current pain was a mercy compared to what he deserved.
The power a Tower of the Gods could offer had to be utilized responsibly. If it were not, there was no guarantee that the wrath of the gods would not once again fall upon the world. And if humanity failed once again even after receiving the blessing of the Towers, would the gods then deign to show mercy? A Tower that had not been bound and placed by the augurs was therefore out of the Censors’ reach. It could not be brought into the Conclave. It could not be monitored. It could not be dealt with should the worst come to past. Nobody now knew where it had gone…or who was now in charge of it.
Ruckanos had done nothing less but created an existential threat to all of humanity that the Tower Lords could do nothing about at present.
And to top it all off…his lord father was surprisingly upset about his handling of the rabble. Apparently, putting the rabble to the sword was not what his lord father meant when he was instructed to handle it personally. Relocation was far less wasteful and drew less attention. And…it turned out that the small little village Ruckanos saw no value in was the source of that new mead that had become his lord father’s favorite recently. His lord father was just about to search out whoever was responsible and induct them into his Tower Servants, to run his personal apiary.
Ruckanos didn’t think it possible, but his lord father grew even more displeased when he had discovered exactly which village Ruckanos had burned, and when he had learned there were no survivors. Even the bees of the local apiary had abandoned their hives, so he could not even take possession of them, much less recruit their keeper.
With all of this in mind, Ruckanos expected nothing but death. A slow, excruciating death that took as long as his lord father and the High Council deemed justified.
So, it was something of a surprise that he was now being led outside of the Tower. The pair of guards behind him pushed him through the keep that surrounded his lord father’s Tower. He was led down a cramped stairwell and brought to…a bathroom? Ruckanos couldn’t help but blink as servants stripped him of the rags upon his body and washed him up. A healer came and cast his magic, restoring just enough of Ruckanos’s injuries that they would not impact his function.
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Not so much that every movement wouldn’t ache, however.
Ruckanos gulped, but decided it was worth risking a question.
“W-What’s going on?”
“Quiet.”
Well, he wasn’t struck for daring to open his mouth, so he’d consider that an improvement. His questions only grew, however, when he was brought to the armory. He was equipped with some armor, a traveling cloak, a lance, and a sword, all lightly enchanted. Trash compared to the treasures he had once received, but items that were still powerful, functional, and the envy of all lesser soldiers. Gear that a Tower Guard would still find acceptable.
He was then led to a large, open courtyard at the center of the keep. He froze and blinked until the Tower Guard behind him shoved him once again.
There was the captain of his former personal guards, as well as all the Tower Guards that once served him. The augur that had accompanied them to the village was present as well.
Behind them, a squadron of wyverns was lying on the ground. Wyvern-tenders were brushing and feeding them as servants packed the large saddle backs tied to them. An official stepped forward and opened a scroll.
“By the decree of the High Council, a Grand Subjugation has been declared. The High Council calls upon all of the Tower Lords to join in this grand mission, to seek out and strike down the enemies of the gods wherever they may lurk, and to bring the lost to safety and blessing.”
A Tower Guard standing next to the official nodded and stepped forward.
“The lord of the Starami Tower commits to this effort his own son, Ruckanos, who will lead his contribution to this endeavor.”
Ruckanos’s heart fell. All his questions had now been answered. The Tower Lords were aware that not every Tower that existed belonged to the Conclave. Single towers, pockets of towers, even entire nations had been located over time as the Hunger was driven back. Whenever they had appeared, they had brought into the Conclave…or dealt with.
But it was not enough to simply wait for them to appear as the borders of the Conclave slowly expanded. Who knew what a malign individual could do with a Tower of the Gods in places unseen? Neither the Conclave, the High Council, or the Censors could let such a situation stand. The grace of the gods may depend upon it.
And so came the Grand Subjugations. Each Tower Lord would contribute a portion of their forces to strike out into the unknown. They would soar above the Hunger in the skies or take to the Underway below and search the world for rogue towers. Those rulers of Towers that were merely misguided would be corrected. Those rulers of Towers with evil intent, including the subhumans, were to be subjugated at all costs.
Now that a Tower had been specifically lost, it was only natural a Grand Subjugation would be arranged.
The thing was…ninety-nine percent of all forces sent out on a Grand Subjugation would never be seen again. Neither flying high nor crawling below were surefire ways to evade the Hunger. Flying and digging shades would assault them enroute…and worst things could occur as the concentration of the Hunger rose. Even if they survived the Hunger’s active attempts to consume them, there was no guarantee they would find a safe place to land when their mounts grew exhausted. And even if they found a place to land, there was no guarantee they would find any supplies before what they carried with them ran out.
And even if all that didn’t kill them, at the end of the journey they would find a Tower Lord who did not acknowledge the authority of the Conclave.
Ruckanos understood their intentions all too well. He, and everyone who had been with him that day, were being sent to die. Thanks to his failure, every Tower Lord would now send people to die, but he knew he would be the only Tower Lord’s child in the first wave, the one least likely to succeed and most likely to perish. The wayward Tower had to be relocated, no matter how many lives would be lost in the process. His lord father and the High Council intended for his to be the first.
Ruckanos walked silently towards the wyverns. The former captain of his guard saluted, though his eyes held no life. The augur had a frown on his face. Ruckanos gave them a nod as he mounted his wyvern.
“As my lord father and the High Council commands.”
But as the wyverns started to take off, a small fire sparked in the depths of Ruckanos’s heart. He realized that, even though he was being sent into certain death, he had gained a small chance. He was no longer doomed to die in the depths of his lord father’s Tower, or at the hands of a Censor. No, he had a chance. A small, miniscule chance, but one that at least existed.
If he managed to survive…
If he managed to pass over the Hunger…
If he managed to find a rogue Tower…
And if he managed to bring it to heel…
Ruckanos’s eyes narrowed. He was about to face the most difficult and perilous task of his life…but maybe, just maybe, his story wasn’t over yet.