Chapter 35

A thankless job

Arwintar, Baharuth Empire

"-Will you marry me?"

The darkness of the night cast its shadow on the terrace. The heat of the stars had never been so warm. The young blond had dared to say something so outrageous with the same lashing expression that characterized him hitherto.

"-Will you marry me?"

It was not the first time Antilene had heard those words. In fact, she had heard them far too many times over the years. Family was what was expected of her. Like a thoroughbred horse she was supposed to multiply, so that her foals could ride the world.

But was that what she wished for? Was it relevant?

A weapons factory that was never to cease production in which the miracle of life was a brutal mechanical operation, devoid of poetry. There, she would be forever stamped with the mark of slavery. Her womanhood, her damnation.

Family. That word that for many was so banal, for her was a source of inscrutable mysteries. A clot of uncertainties and remnants of traumas never dormant.

'I will marry the one who succeeds in defeating me!'

That was her mantra. That was her law. Defeat meant love. That was her lie. A lie with the hope of becoming truth one distant day.

"-Will you marry me?"

What cannot be had is desired. She was the object of that desire. The lady of the Black Scripture. The girl who would never become a woman, not until the miracle predicted by that fabrication would come true. For who on earth could have made her know the taste of defeat?

Her deception would never be revealed. That castle built on falsehoods would not be torn down. An evolutionary process halted by the harshness of reality.

The solitude she had chosen would not have withered away.

And, like so many before him, that boy whose springs were insignificant compared to hers, whose frail body seemed at any moment to be at the mercy of the force of the wind that would carry it away, had had the audacity to make that proposal to her.

Thoughts twisted and scrambled among themselves, searching for a possible answer.

The young emperor's hair was golden threads entwined with each other, the splendor of which looked like a piece of the sun itself placed on his head. In the paleness of the night, his skin welcomed the light of the stars. A figure hollowed out in the precious marble that had come to life, whose light touch of rose recalled his mortality.

Beauty was not a sufficient word to describe him, but Antilene knew no other word suitable enough.

"-Will you marry me?"

An indecent proposal. Why her? And why so soon? It made no sense at all. No, it didn't. Cold. Where was the love and romance in that? Or were they just disappointments dictated by a youth that had never been outgrown, although the passage of years would suggest otherwise?

Cold was Jircniv's gaze, lost in a distance that did not concern her. What was he looking at? A divine design that only he could observe?

Cold was the grate on which she was leaning, which seemed to have absorbed the chill of nature.

And cold was the half-elf's heart. If she had ever known romantic love, surely that was not the moment that would open the doors of her soul.

How to respond? She looked a second time at Jircniv, and then a third and then a fourth. Antilene kept looking away and then quickly looking up again, while the emperor remained still. In the eyes of the guards, rather than a touching moment, that must have appeared like a very bizarre game.

The swirl of her emotions became more intense, an overwhelming whirlwind that drew everything to itself.

In the end, still dazed by the unexpected question, there was only one possible reaction.

Antilene laughed.

She laughed so loudly that none of those present could tell whether they were dreaming or whether that was the truth.

That sound so pleasant swallowed like a starving beast, fasting for days, the silence that had slowly grown until that instant.

"Do you find my proposal so amusing?" Jircniv's calmness aimed at hiding the rudeness of the insult he had suffered. The smile he gave her was more false than the one a perfidious counselor offers. "Because I can assure you that it was not my intention to amuse you. If nothing else, I would have expected at least a proper response from a person in your position."

While the emperor's irritation might have been palpable, his guards did not seem to share what he was feeling. The woman had maintained a superhuman impassivity, totally untouched by the affair, while the man held a hand to his mouth to maintain a modicum of decency, otherwise he would have snapped just like the half-elf.

"It was not my intention to offend you," Antilene ran a hand through her disheveled hair to restore it to a semblance of order after it had been stirred by the hilarious movements of her body. "I know that the seriousness of the proposal could not be questioned. And that is why I could not restrain myself. Try to understand me, in front of such madness what could have been a normal answer but this? Anything else I had done would have been insanity!"

Evidently, the emperor was not of the same opinion. 'Where do you see folly in my offer? We are both two unmarried royal family members, about the same age if we convert your elven years. Our nations are on good terms, and we can bring countless benefits to each other. I do not see what is so outrageous about this."

He shook his fingers. One of the servants in the adjacent room offered them two goblets filled with red wine.

Antilene brought one to her lips, overwhelmed by the acidity.

"It seems obvious to me," she countered, leaving the glass still full. 'How do you know our union will work if we've barely known each other for a few hours? Doesn't this seem rushed to you? I for one have never longed for the idea of getting married. Certainly not to someone I just met and whom I have no idea if I could ever love."

Jircniv tasted the wine, his expression caught by a sudden realization, which made his nerves relax.

"I think I understand where I went wrong," he said, his glass half full. "I treated you as a person of noble blood, when I should have imagined you were closer to a commoner."

The subtext of the declaration was not picked up by the half-elf, who continued to listen in silence.

"Take no offense," he quickly explained himself, as if he understood what the Elf Queen was thinking. "It was not an insinuation about your lineage. On the contrary, a simple observation. Your mind reasons as one who has never been shackled by concepts such as duty and responsibility."

"If you please," his haughtiness was beginning to annoy her. Of the many proposals received over the years, that one was undoubtedly the most bizarre. "I don't think it's for you to judge me. Or do you believe that to get to a woman's heart it is enough to treat her with conceitedness?"

"Let me clarify. What I am asking for is not a love marriage. That is a luxury that people of our rank are not allowed," and for the first time, sincerity showed in his words. Even if it was strange to see someone who could boast such wealth complain of a forbidden kind of riches."Our marriage should not be dictated by rambling love, but by the relative benefits we can bring to each other."

"And what might those mysterious benefits be?" A question derived more from good manners than curiosity. Having already formed her own idea, Antilene found further inquiries unnecessary. "You will have to be really convincing. Assuming that the desire to lead me to the altar is as strong as you are trying to imply."

Jircniv finished his glass of wine, as if the drink sharpened his oratorical skills. "It's simple," the tone became vigorous and energetic. Every word was meticulously calibrated to achieve its purpose. "I too, like every human being, am destined to wither. Old age is a curse that few can escape. But I do not regret it; unlike others, I have accepted my fate. What I do not accept is to know that one day, which may be near, a distant descendant of mine may throw away all that I have built."

The problem of successors who did not compare with their illustrious predecessors was an issue inherent to the monarchical system. A system that the Theocracy had abandoned since its birth, due to its inherent ineffectiveness. Even Antilene knew this, and Jircniv was certainly more aware of it than she was.

"I don't see what a possible marriage to me would solve," the half-elf said, setting her wine glass down on a nearby tray. Instead, she had the servant bring her a glass of orange juice. "Did you mistake me for a wish-fulfilling genie?"

"A genie maybe not," he chuckled, his attention focused on the sides of her head where thick hair covered the sides. "But I am aware of the longevity of your race. If my descendants could acquire it, I would at least be aware that my direct successor will be a person capable of ruling for many, many years."

One had to be careful with what was desired. Like any other human, even one as enlightened as Jircniv was fascinated by the possibility of deceiving, temporarily, Lord Surshana. Even if in that case, for the benefit of someone else.

However, the Scythe of the End knew how to be relentless with those who tried to escape its touch.

"So if I'm not mistaken, your plan is for me to give you a son, perhaps more than one, to be sure that the best heir you picked will rule this nation for years and years," the moonlight spilled onto her womb. To Antilene, it felt like home. "A machine churning out children for your delight."

"That's a limited way of looking at things," he justified himself, with the same straight face as a thief who has been caught stealing. "The union of our bloodlines could lead to the birth of a 'superior-man', capable of bringing order and prosperity not only to the Empire, but also to all neighboring human nations. Is this not what the Theocracy professes? An oasis where humanity can rest forever. We could make it possible."

Different words, but the gist of the speech had been heard before. The emperor moved even closer, clasping her hands in his. To the touch, the sensation they gave was slippery and uncomfortable.

"As sovereigns, it is our duty to think of putting the needs of the many before our own," calm and quietly he spoke, yet she could hear him thundering and imperious. "But do not think I see you only as a womb with legs. If I have chosen you, it is also because I count in your military prowess and the education you received in the Theocracy. An education unlike any other. Allow me to use it for the greater good."

How many had he bewitched with those amethyst eyes, precious as jewels? To her, however, they seemed empty. Crushed by an invisible weight that not even their bearer was aware of.

In a sense, he was pitiful.

Duty. A word she had known all too well since childhood. Antilena could say with certainty that what Jircniv was saying was true.

There was no falsehood in what he claimed. He truly loved his people. More than he would ever have loved her, any other woman or any of his children. For he wasn't a man anymore, but the personification of an idea. An idea called 'Baharuth Empire'.

And that was precisely why she could not accept him.

"My answer is still the same," the half-elf stepped back, suddenly feeling free. "That is our great difference, Emperor Jircniv. You act with the future of your kingdom in mind. On the contrary, my future is all I care about. Live an unhappy life just because some silly word says so? Ridiculous. Duty. More than any other chain has imprisoned me. I was a slave to it when you were only a recondite thought of your father. I was subject to it when your ancestors claimed these lands. The blood I spilled was the price of my ransom! Now that I am free, I will not surrender what I have laboriously won for anything in the world!"

The emperor sighed, dejected but not defeated.

"Is that your answer then?" The fire in the half-elf's gaze was what dispelled her doubts. "Allow me to make a counterproposal, then. Let us postpone this discussion until after the ball. Observe the other rulers, see the mediocrity around us. I am sure that when you see the lack of talent among the various Kings and Queens, you will be convinced of my words."

They reentered the hall, Antilene in silence, Jircniv not altogether different. Lights meticulous in teaching what the night looked like greeted them with the kindness of a loving parent.

"I promise you that the discussion will resume in two days," to give more would have been foolhardy. The sound of her footsteps played a sad melody on the warm marble floor that echoed in the silence of the room. "Nevertheless, I don't want you to think that there are really any other possibilities still open. I don't think it's fair to you to raise false hopes."

"I will make do with that for the time being," the emperor raised his hands in defeat. Resignation mixed with a hint of optimism. "I am sure that after thinking more deeply about the talk we just had, you will be able to understand the nobility of my intentions."

"Beware, for confidence is good, but too much may prove dangerous," a warning disguised as advice. The half-elf's lips joined in a thin red line. The smile was so bright that it was hard not to see how empty the eyes were. Was a veiled threat a fitting action for a Queen? It was for Antilene, and that was enough. "I do not doubt that your intentions are sincere. What I do doubt is that your words are as well."

"I have only to prove it to you then," Jircniv sustained her gaze unswayed by it. What he lacked in physical strength, he made up for in fortitude. "My actions and thoughts are as pure as crystal!"

A crystal that certainly shone magnificently, but whose intrinsic value was all to be proven.

"Now, if you will permit, I would like to retire to my rooms," Antilene said in a whisper. A whisper that had the force of a hurricane. "Possibly alone."

"At least let one of my knights escort you," a kindness designed to control her. So simple to read as to be trivial. "I wouldn't want you to get lost in these great corridors."

The game of blade and handle. He had the blade, but what would she do with the handle?

"Leinas will be more than happy to accompany you!" He exclaimed, giving the woman-knight space.

The half-elf's neck was grazed by the steel of those words.

"Then, let us go," a face concealed from the darkness by long golden hair. A face that bore no emotion but heavy shadows that disfigured its serenity. "Jircniv, we will meet again at the ball. Next time I think that our encounter will be more... fruitful. For me and for you."

"I will be happy to say as much. And I shall wish to be as enchanted by your beauty and wisdom as I have been today!"

Twofold was the cut of the swords as of their words.

Antilene and Leinas started down the road, the chill of the atmosphere so persistent it could have been a snowy mountain storm. But that silence was not unpleasant.

Strangely enough, it was the escort who was the first to speak.

"So, you are from the Theocracy, Lady Antilene?" Stunned like someone hearing sound for the first time, the half-elf was taken aback by the triviality of that question.

"There I was born and grew up," she replied, looking for a new weakness in that seemingly impassive knight. Had she wished to surpass her, she would have succeeded as easily as a butterfly flaps its wings. "Lovely place. Don't visit it during the summer or you might get sunburnt. I personally have never participated, but I heard that the goblin hunts organized near Kami Miyako are a great tourist attraction."

Too much of an exaggeration?

Leinas touched the blond forelock that covered part of her face. In an uncertain voice, she said, "Is the Theocracy really as technologically advanced as they say? Every magical miracle is capable of being performed?"

"I'm not the best person to answer that," a flamboyant quiet consumed the uncertainty of an indulgent look. "Magic is not my field of specialty. But I'm pretty sure the level of preparation is far superior to that of the Empire. That does not mean, however, that it is accessible to everyone. But why are you asking me this?"

"I have a friend who could use some help," and this friend was called Leinas, Antilene was ready to bet. "A severe curse hangs over her, and she wondered if it wasn't possible to still harbor hope that she could... I don't know, maybe it's silly. After all this time."

They had almost reached the chamber designated for the half-elf, but Antilene decided to put an end to that albeit brief conversation.

"Do you not have Paradyne here?" The fame of the imperial archmage had reached even her. If possible, she would have liked to meet him. "If it is not possible for him, I doubt there is anyone in the Theocracy capable of accomplishing as much."

At least, as limited as her knowledge was. Perhaps with a ritual... But she certainly wasn't going to divulge secret practices with the first one she passed. For all Antilene knew, that could very well have been a trap.

"I see," Leinas' disappointment seemed real, devoid of trickery. But was it really so? If understanding others was as simple as fencing was, perhaps her life would have been less complicated. Or at least more fun. "I apologize if I have taken up your valuable time. Mine was simple curiosity. If I may speak frankly, I don't think the emperor's intentions are misplaced. He truly believes in everything he said tonight."

"That is the worst part, my dear knight," the half-elf replied, intent on entering her room. "Not having lied does not make his proposal any less deceptive. If anything, it is all the more insidious for that very reason."

They said their goodbyes there, as Antilene returned to the room. When she entered, she found Agravaine waiting for her, intent on reading some book taken from the bookcase that was there. Judging by the cover, a story of chivalrous love.

"You took a long time," her sister didn't even look up, captured by a mesmerizing reading. "How did the meeting with the emperor go? Did he show you anything interesting?"

"We can say so," Antilene headed for the bathroom that had already been arranged by Etienne. "We'll talk about it later, okay? Right now I need to relax."

The butler had been painstaking in his preparation. The water had reached a perfect temperature, and washed the sweat and fatigue off the half-elf's body with ease. Antilene soaked for a few minutes longer than necessary, letting herself be lulled by the sweet sensation and reflecting once more on what had just occurred. Soap bubbles rose gently, to be swept away by her breath, in a childlike game.

What would have happened if she had accepted Jircniv's offer? Perhaps indeed humanity would have prospered as a whole under their leadership. Even if the future was impossible to predict, it was still true that the emperor's logic made its own sense.

Would the cardinals accept a possible union? Each generation had driven her to procreation, but always with state-sanctioned bloodlines and with the clear intent that any progeny would remain within and under the direct supervision of the Theocracy. Accepting something different would have been hard for them.

Yet the most important thing was what she thought of all this. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not see herself settling down with a stranger, locked into a role and family she did not feel was her own.

Antilene wanted to caress the wind, to visit unknown and unexplored places, in search of herself. Anything else would not have made her satisfied. It was not only a promise she had made to Rufus, but one she intended to keep to all those who had been good to her.

Why settle for less when even the stars might have been within her reach? Once she asked what infinity could produce, the answer was only one: everything. And everything was what she would take.

When she came out of the bath, she found Agravaine in a different position in which she had left her as she was approaching the small library placed in the far right of the room. Melody and Etienne were instead intent on preparing dinner.

"So, are you ready to talk now?" Her sister had already put the book back in its place, looking for someone else to replace it. "Hum... nothing interesting. Just romance novels and old poetry collections. It's like they want to keep their history and customs from us."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were chosen by the emperor himself, who found them the most interesting reading for women like us," or maybe it had just been a coincidence. To think wrong is a sin, but most of the time it is a fortunate guess. "Was that novel you were reading so boring?"

"I suppose it can have its audience," replied Agravaine, running her fingers through the covers of the other volumes present. "But love stories have never been my thing. Especially those where the two protagonists fall in love at first sight."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Antilene nodded, sharing those remarks. She then went on to recapitulate to the elf everything that had happened just before, taking care not to omit any details. Even the two servants, given the modest size of the room, could not help but overhear.

"The young emperor is very bold," Agravaine commented. Both had taken their places at the laid table that had been prepared for them. Melody and Etienne would eat later. "And so you refused?"

Antilene brought a spoonful of steaming vegetable soup to her mouth. "What else was I supposed to do? Honestly, it put me in an uncomfortable position. If it hadn't been so absurd, I would almost have thought it was a trap." The warm, comforting taste filled her cheeks, brushing away the last remnants of cold from her body. "What would you have done in my place?"

Agravaine brought a hand to her chin, thoughtful. Then, after quickly tasting two mouthfuls of the soup -the high temperature of the dish seemed not to bother her- she replied: "I would not have done otherwise. But it is true that it puts you in a bad situation. You ran the risk of making a powerful enemy," or perhaps she had already done so, Antilene reflected, without uttering a word. "The emperor might have regarded your refusal as a declaration of hostile intent."

"Ahhhh," the half-elf brought both hands to her hair, wrinkling it in a soft moan. "I don't understand anything about politics. If he wanted my hand so badly, couldn't he have challenged me to a duel like everyone does?"

None of the others present pointed out to her that challenging one's beloved to a sword duel was far from standard practice for marriage requests.

"If I may," Melody interjected, as she handed the second portion of dinner to her mistress. Legs of pork browned in hot sauce. "I think you have acted impeccably, Lady Antilene. If that boorish emperor made you uncomfortable, it was entirely his fault! What would he have expected from such an unexpected request?"

"But it is true that for nobility such requests do not follow ordinary protocols," Etianne ventured, not entirely convinced. "Not that I am an expert on the customs of humans, for goodness sake. Yet it is not a possibility to be ruled out."

"It's a pity there were no nobles in the Theocracy," huffed Antilene, letting her sigh ease his uncertainty. Her homeland had abandoned those customs years ago. "The great families have similar usances, but I have never cared much for them. If only they had covered this topic in the etiquette lessons they gave me recently."

Not that she resented the Cardinals for that shortcoming. How could they have foreseen such an event? Certainly, in hindsight, it would have been more useful than knowing which fork to use in official ceremonies. The one with four prongs. Maybe.

"The only thing I'm worried about is that my reaction may sour relations between the Theocracy and Baharuth," she continued, taking bite after bite with a finesse certainly not worthy of a Queen. If she had to judge her servants by their culinary skills, the rating would have been more than excellent. "If I were to cause a disaster given my disrespectful behavior, I don't think I could ever, ever forgive myself. For at least a month."

The others chuckled at the joke. Agravaine was the first to ask another question. "What should happen if the Emperor does not accept your answer? We are still in the heart of his territory," the elf nodded, which only Antilene caught. They both knew they were under constant surveillance, but avoided saying anything else so as not to alarm Melody and Etienne unnecessarily. "We may have to find our way with weapons."

The half-elf considered for the beauty of a second what she had been told. In her mind's eye, a battle played out between her and hundreds of guards of the same level as Leinas. The clarity of her subsequent reply was more than enough to reassure the mood.

"Even if they tried to attack me, they wouldn't stand a chance. Mind you, I can't be sure what cards Jircniv holds, but I can venture that nothing should be too much trouble. Perhaps the famous Paradyne... But even if his abilities were to be superior to the Black Scripture spellcasters, that certainly wouldn't be a problem."

No, a physical confrontation was the least of her worries. Both she and Jircniv knew that in such an eventuality someone would be destroyed. And it certainly wasn't her.

"If they should try to harm Lady Antilene they will have to deal with me!" Puffed Melody with annoyance. Rather than a proud fighter, her expression reminded one of a funny little animal. Of course, if she or Etienne had been taken as hostages, what would Antilene have done?

The half-elf preferred not to give herself an answer, as she was already aware of the cruelty she would have to admit.

"Don't talk nonsense, Melody," Etienne shot her back, hard in his gaze. "In such a predicament, we should confine ourselves to doing all we can to not be in Lady Antilene's way. It would be absolutely disgraceful if our presence was in the way of our savior. Remember that our will is nothing compared to that of our Queen!" The maid merely paid him little attention, knowing that what she had been told was not wrong.

"I apologize for Melody's unseemly behavior, Lady Antilene," a bow as a gesture of apology, slightly bent to the right. By now Antilene had collected in her mind every different, at first glance imperceptible, way the butler carried out his excuses. "I promise it won't happen again."

Antilene dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "Nothing to worry about," she said broodingly. "Always remember to stay close to me or Agravaine. I doubt you will be in any danger as long as you remain guests of the Emperor, but caution is never too much I suppose. In any case, I doubt it will happen until the ball is over. Too many prominent personalities will be gathered to allow anyone to venture anything untoward."

Draconic Kingdom, Re-Estize, Holy Kingdom, plus others that now escaped her would be present. Risking a diplomatic incident at that time would have been too foolish a move for the Blood Emperor.

"The Theocracy's emissaries should also be present," Agravaine observed. Now that dinner was over, she was helping clear the table. "And with them some of your former comrades probably. As you said, we are unlikely to be attacked at this time, unless there is some secret weapon we are unaware of."

Antilene avoided pointing out that in all likelihood many members of the Windflower or Clearwater Scripture were already present in the capital.

"I doubt it. No, some kind of military conflict is really unlikely. Jircniv does not want to take me by force. His goal is to convince me to consciously take part in his project."

She was quite sure of her assumption. Jircniv did not seem like someone unwilling to get his hands dirty, but he was not foolish enough to think he could cage her in and use her as he pleased. "The greatest risk I run is that he will kill me with long speeches."

"The famous KingSlayer, killed by one word too many. Where the sword failed, language was deadly. How much shall her subjects weep for this!"

Agravaine pretended to wipe away imaginary tears. As an actress she was shoddy, albeit certainly irreverent.

"It has been a long day," said the half-elf, ignoring her sister. "And we have longer ones ahead of us. Better go and rest."

It was said that the night brings advice. But Antilene's sleep was devoid of any help. Serene and agitated at the same time, the Elf Queen quickly fell asleep, leaving today's problems for tomorrow.

Masakan Desert

Hot. Muggy heat. Hot of sun, hot of fury. The sun's rays were arrows shot with diabolical precision towards the skin. Sweat poured down their clothes, making them sticky and uncomfortable. Drops flowed slowly, starting from the forehead and tickling the most intimate parts of the body. A graceful, sensual touch started from the back and reached the hips. Slowly. So slow that one could follow its path.

Aeneas took a sip of water. In that place, the most precious of treasures. Drowsy, but still flushed, the captain of the Black Scriptures widened his eyes at the sight of what unfolded before him.

The city of Tel-Hoorusan before them, shining like a pearl in the desert. A labyrinth, with incessant buzzing of their stories of remote founders and inspired prophets, of unhoped-for treasures and unthought-of wonders, of curious devices and clever sorceries, of people with strange customs and women with different habits.

The palace of the dune-riders stood in defense of its subjects. Its grandeur brought the blessing of shade to those under its protection. The golden contours enclosed the ardor of the solar flames within, the silver splendor of the surface enraptured the eyes of those who beheld it.

"We're almost there," Quaiesse, One Man Army, gave a specific order to the crimson owl they were flying on. The beast began to head gracefully towards one of the palace terraces.

From above, Aeneas could observe what was happening below him, like a God judging his devotees. Men of different races, dark-skinned and light-skinned, were collaborating in cleaning up the streets, clearing away the rubbish that had accumulated and preparing equipment and supplies of various kinds.

Groups ordered according to clear command hierarchies, in which everyone was aware of the role to be played and the best way to do it.

"It seems absurd that until recently there was a war in this place," commented Rinaldo, sixth seat of the Black Scriptures. Shining Blade. "If I had not read the report, I could never have said that only a few weeks ago we were laying siege to this place."

Aeneas found himself agreeing with his companion as he once again cast an eye downwards to that lower plane that seemed detached from his reality. "If there had been no traitors in the ranks of the enemy, it would have been much more difficult. Fortunately, the use of non-human troops backfired against the Diarchy."

"Where would they have kept the prisoners?" Cassandra, One Thousand Mile Astrologer, asked curiously. She of all people present seemed to be unaffected by the high temperatures, remaining dignified in her poise. "I thought they kept them segregated in the palace dungeons, but I can't sense anything but a few faint signals of magical energy. Certainly not enough for the number of survivors left."

Other people, just outside the city walls, were intent on digging large pits where large sacks were thrown unceremoniously.

"You have your answer," Quaiesse stated lapidary, landing towards the designated spot. When all four had disembarked, the Black Scripture tamer summoned his beast in a ring he wore on his finger not before caressing it gently and whispering kind words in its ear. "I hope you have enjoyed the journey," a sincere smile rose from his lips.

Aeneas replied with a gesture of his head in approval. Then he walked towards one of the nearby doors, where a welcoming committee was waiting for them.

"We are here to see General Bulgari," the captain did not even waste time introducing himself, knowing that his presence alone would be enough to make those men realize to whom his group belonged. The clothes they wore were proof enough of their position. "We know he is waiting for us."

One of the guards nodded. He did not wear the usual uniform of the soldiers of the Theocracy's army, replaced by clothes more appropriate for the arduous life of the desert, but the sign of the Six Great Gods embroidered on his cloak attested to his affiliation.

The Black Scriptures were led into a room in the highest part of the structure. Once almost certainly a throne chamber, judging by the vestiges of antique and valuable furniture carefully stowed at the sides of the room, it had been quickly converted into a place suitable for holding war councils.

When they entered, they found the general, an old but trustworthy-looking man, intent on discussions with various members of his retinue.

Various voices were trying to make their way through the confusion.

"We must conclude the conflict with the Diarchy as soon as possible, or the Golden King will attack us before we have time to prepare. We cannot withstand a conflict on several fronts."

"The weather conditions impact the morale of our men. The magic of the priests succeeds in momentarily relieving the harshest conditions, but if we are to settle here for long we will have to provide effective solutions to combat the heat as soon as possible."

"Supplies from the motherland have arrived in time, but we should ask for more before spring arrives or we risk being unable to move."

"As for that important prisoner..."

"Silence!"

Gael Russells Bulgari knew how to be imposed upon. After noting the presence of the Theocracy's chosen team, he briefly closed his eyes to reflect undisturbed. When he was ready, he gave his orders.

"Galapo! Assigns each unit appropriate tasks for the construction of new structures suitable for life in the desert. Each lieutenant, second lieutenant and unit leader must be clear about the orders to be executed. Do not hesitate to relocate old buildings in the city where possible. Efficiency and speed must be our motto. Furthermore, make sure that surrendered enemies take part and are well included in the projects. We need to form cohesion as quickly as possible. Any discrimination must be severely punished."

"Lusia! Gather the priests, paladins and all those who are able to use magic. Organize them into guard shifts for the creation of supplies suitable for the desert and water. Among their duties I also want a periodic check on the health of our soldiers. Should a disease be discovered, isolate the infected immediately, but see to it that they receive proper treatment. Our men must not be afraid to reveal weakness and fatigue."

A pause. More to make sure his orders had been heeded, rather than out of weariness. The vitality of his words was like a river overflowing its banks.

"Coedia! Prepare an inventory of what we have received and what we will need in the future. Do not hesitate to include in these lists even that which is not strictly indispensable. The Grand Marshal, with the approval of the Supreme Council, has given me carte blanche to request anything I deem useful for this war. Are there any questions?"

A multitude of hands rose instantly. Unfazed, the general said, "They will have to wait. The council is adjourned a couple of hours from now. Clear your minds! We will meet again soon. May the Gods guide our actions!"

After dismissing his entourage, General Bulgari was ready to welcome them. He too wore unusual clothes. An ankle-length dress with long sleeves, decorated with various precious filaments. Nevertheless, there were small remnants of the fashionable style of their homeland. On the chest had been embroidered, quickly judging by the quality of the stitching, a symbol depicting the effigy of the Earth God. The beard was kept with a shave bordering on perfection and the shoes were made of simple leather.

"Aeneas, my boy! I find you in wonderful shape," they greeted each other with a familiar embrace, which could not hide the affection felt. "How many years has it been since we last saw each other? One? Two?"

"Three," replied the Black Scripture captain. "It was when I faced that chasmfiend emerging from Lake Breyca. I am glad you are well too, General Bulgari."

"Three years, how time flies. And what an incredible creature that was. I had never seen anything like it in all my years of service. But even more incredible was the way you disposed of it. Swing and swang and it was lying lifeless on the ground."

It had not been as easy as that rough tale might have led one to believe, but Aeneas preferred not to contradict the man's memory.

The abyssal he had faced had been an unexpected anomaly, since their habitat was estimated to be in a large lake in the center of the continent. How it had come to the borders of the Theocracy was a mystery that had yet to be clarified.

"But you people should be tired. Let me offer you something," the general opened a shelf of a bureau placed not far from the desk where the war council had been held until recently. From it he took out a glass bottle from inside which one could see water as pure as crystal and some snacks. "Nothing here is better than water. I also have wine or other drinks if you want. But this water is special. It is taken from an underground spring that flows beneath the palace, whose ability to withstand the heat is portentous. Please try it."

Aeneas and the other three did not ask twice. Water flowed through their bodies, as if an injection of magical energy had just been administered to them. Suddenly, all the fatigue accumulated on the journey seemed to disappear, replaced by renewed vigor.

"Incredible," both Cassandra and Rinaldo poured themselves a second glass, in disbelief. "It's better than anything I've ever drunk." To move a usually impassive person like Astrologer, it meant that extraordinary prodigies were a big deal.

"Where did you say you came from, General?" Quaiesse asked, no less incredulous than the others. "I have never heard of such miraculous underground sources."

"Some chronicles we found in the city library call it one of the prodigies of the Eight Great Sinners. The whole region is littered with evidence of their passage like this."

A blinding glow crackled from the side window, the daylight bidding its last farewells before retreating behind the setting sun. At the mere mention of the scourge of their God, the anger of the Black Scriptures began to erupt like a raging volcano. Murderous instincts ascended to the heavens like hymns of glory.

General Gael swallowed for a moment, wondering if he had made a mistake.

Regaining control of the anger caused by that involuntary reflex, the placid calm of their souls returned as naturally as if it had always been there.

Aeneas apologized to the general, bowing his head to the floor. "Just hearing the name of our worst enemies mentioned reminds us of the grave sin and betrayal our country has suffered, making our hearts weep of sorrow," he said, with such solemnity that he could be mistaken for a high religious official. "Please accept our apologies, Lord Bulgari."

Gael helped him to his feet. "You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, it is I who must offer an apology to heroes like you. I disregarded your faith and was hasty in recalling the most hated adversaries of our glorious nation. Unfortunate behavior."

"The important thing is to have cleared the air," added Quaiesse, of all seemingly the calmest. An appearance not corresponding to reality."I suppose in these areas there are many cults devoted to the worship of the Eight. It won't be the last time we have to deal with them," the light from the rings he wore shone for a second, invoked by an unseen enemy. "In that case, we will have to be more cautious in our actions."

"Anyway, what is the reason you requested our intervention, General?" Cassandra adjusted the frames of her glasses, leaving that brief exchange in the past. "I don't want to sound rude, but judging by the situation, the war with the Talafest Diarchy is going excellently."

The man's face frowned. He started to say something, but the words seemed to die in his throat. It was only after he drank a second glass of that special water that he came to his senses.

"The war with the Diarchy is actually going better than we had hoped. As you can see for yourself, we have captured one of the two capitals. Most of the enemy army has surrendered and we have employed most of the captured humans as additional troops for this campaign. Those who accepted our proposal at least."

"As for the demi-humans?" Rinaldo asked, his blond hair flowing down the right side of his cheek. "I thought both humans and non-humans cooperated in these areas."

"Have you seen the pits dug outside the city?" And there was no need to add more. "Not that we have eliminated all non-humans. Only those who had opposed our occupation. After all, we could not show ourselves too harshly towards them, at the risk of alienating even the humans who lived here."

"Humans living with beasts. The south has really let itself go," Quaiesse commented, unable to help but voice his contempt. "I suppose, though, you have followed the most reasonable choice, General Bulgari. The Gods will forgive this sin."

"I pray for that to be true," the man replied, perturbed by that decision. "In any case," he continued. "The war is not yet over. We have captured the ruler of Tel-Hoorusan, but the other capital, Musaaid Al-Lodi still holds out. And with it its king."

"And do you think it may take long to conquer it?" Aeneas brought a hand to his chin as he asked the question. His scarlet eyes shone with ravenous curiosity.

"Getting to the capital is the hardest part, these deserts are inhospitable to foreigners, and the local guides are not much help," the Theocracy's army was used to conflicts in quite different fields. The disadvantage of poor knowledge of the terrain was becoming apparent. "And enemy troops are adept at disruptive actions that could slow down our march even more. Still, I am quite sure that once we overcome these problems, we would have no problem winning this war."

"So you requested our intervention to pave the way for the main army?" One Man Army was already ready to get to business. Unlike the others there, he could have started heading towards Musaaid Al-Lodi at that very moment.

"Not necessarily," General Bulgari pulled a letter from his desk and handed it to Aeneas. "A few weeks ago we received a proposal from the king of Musaaid, in which he asked that we resolve our conflict not with useless bloodshed but with a clash of champions."

"Unusual request," the Black Scripture captain read the letter, which only confirmed what he had just heard, albeit in more high-sounding words. "There is talk here of a Sword Saint who should act as their representative. Do we know anything about him?"

"Not much. Only that he is an exceptional warrior who has recently joined the royal court of Musaaid," having a little more information would have been perfect. But the Black Scriptures were used to working with little. "That is why I have requested your help. If we can win, we will not only save a lot of human lives, but also acquire a valuable resource useful for the next conflict."

"What do you mean?" Aeneas asked. "I believed that once the Diarchy was defeated, the Theocracy could end the conflicts in this area."

The man gathered in deep silence. "It was like that at first. But in the last few months a new competitor has come forward," the tone became graver and more worried. "He calls himself 'The Golden King'. He is the reason I assume the Diarchy decided to make this proposal to us. They know very well that they are next in his sights. The only hope they have to counter him is to join forces with ours. But the demi-humans will never accept that."

"But should they lose the war in a lawful manner, it will be easier for the king to get this new alliance accepted," a grin of realization crackled on Quaiesse's lips. "But that begs the question, what would happen if we were to lose?"

The advantages of accepting that challenge were obvious. From this, of course, it followed that the risks were not few.

General Bulgari, on the other hand, remained impassive, perfectly at ease. Sitting in a nearby chair, he crossed his arms, his trained muscles struggling to get out of his tunic. "We will simply have to retreat. In short, we will return to the situation of a few months ago."

"Where's the catch?" Cassandra asked, taking a tease from her bag. How everything that held the girl in there found room, Aeneas could not explain even with the banal answer 'it's magic'! "Because in situations like these there's always a catch."

"None," there was no reason to doubt the general's answer, no matter how strange it seemed at first hearing. "Or at least, we can't find any. In fact, we suspect that the challenge was issued with the very aim of losing, for the reasons just discussed."

"Is this Golden King so terrible?" For there was no other explanation for that unusual behavior on the part of the King of Talafest. Aenaes wondered if they had not got themselves into more trouble than they were in. "What is the Theocracy's opinion on the matter? Do they intend to wage war against him as well?"

Lately, it seemed that peace was more and more a pipe dream. They had not even had time to celebrate the death of the Elf King, that a new threat was appearing on the horizon.

Aeneas suddenly felt fragile. Until that moment he had fought, struggled and spat blood and tears with the knowledge that there was someone behind him, ready to take his place should the need arise. Now, he was alone. Alone as he had ever been. Torn between a responsibility that gave no peace and a fear of failure that left no escape.

That shadow that had always covered him and made him fearless was now so distant as to escape sight.

He stifled those emotions. He was a machine. He had to be a machine. He could not show doubt. Not in front of his comrades. Not in front of General Bulgari. Not in front of himself.

"The Supreme Council was categorical," as if newly awoken from a dream, the general's words roused him from that daze. "For now, we must not engage in battle unless otherwise unavoidable, until the danger posed by this new ruler is made clear. This should change, however, if a certain condition should come true."

"Don't you mean..." Quaiesse was the first to understand what this particular circumstance was. His mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Dear Surshana. If that were indeed the case, we run the risk of facing a catastrophe."

"Why don't you make us aware as well?" Rinaldo and Cassandra asked in unison, slightly irritated by such secrecy.

"Don't you understand? Think carefully about where we are. Not many kilometers from here lies a very, very important place."

Struck by a sudden realization, all the members of the Black Scripture were in turn shaken by incredulity.

"The flying city..."

"That's right," the general confirmed to them, sharing their concerns. "We don't know if that is indeed its goal, but the fact remains that it is a concrete possibility. As far as the scant information we have gathered reports, the Golden King presents himself as the rightful heir to the Eight Great Sinners. If he were to awaken what lies dormant in that place... I dare not even think about it."

Certainly a gruesome possibility, agreed Aeneas. But there was one variable they didn't seem to have considered.

"Platinum Dragon Lord. The flying city is under his direct protection," he remarked, with newfound optimism. "To attack it is to attack him. If we're lucky, we may find ourselves not having to face this new adversary at all."

But General Bulgari did not seem to take the same view.

"Indeed, what you say is true, but I don't think things are that simple. What I'm telling you is an indiscretion from the Supreme Council, so I don't need to tell you to maintain the utmost secrecy. For people in your position I expect no less," after receiving their nod of assent, he went on with his speech. "Tsaindorcus Vaision has not been seen for years. These may be unfounded suspicions, but what if he is no longer truly there? That is why it is imperative that we assess the situation well before we intervene."

"I understand," Aeneas said. He needed to assess that flood of information with a cool head, but at first glance, it looked like a complicated situation. "So our short-term goal is to get the Diarchy on our side."

"This way we will also have troops experienced in navigating the territory, and losing demi-humans troops will not be a waste," Quaiesse commented, not without a hint of cruelty. "Are you sure there is anything else regarding this Sword Saint? You might want to give us as much information as possible about our captain's future adversary, General. To maximize our chances of victory."

If indeed that Sword Saint was on his level, every bit of help would be indispensable, Aenaes reflected.

'But will that really be the case?'

How long had it been since he had crossed paths with someone who could stand up to him? Only once, in his entire albeit short life, had he had such an experience.

"Speaking of which. There's someone I want you to meet. You know we have captured the ruler of this city," the Black Scripture captain recalled something like this. Indeed, it was only at that moment that the detail he had read in the report he received before leaving for the mission came back to his memory. "I would like you to meet that individual. I promised that I would assign a bodyguard to their person and no one is better suited to be your guide in these places. A quid pro quo, so to speak."

Aeneas had the feeling that there was more he was not telling him, but said nothing. The general got up to call one of the attendants standing guard outside the room.

"Idis will guide you to the city ruler's room. I am sorry I cannot accompany you, but I have many other matters to attend to."

"No need to apologize," Aeneas reassured him.

"I expect to dine with you this evening. So you can also fill me in on the... situation."

Hesitation. 'Strange,' Aeneas thought. Perhaps an impression dictated by the heat.

After being dismissed by General Bulgari, the Black Scriptures were led to a secluded room in the right wing of the palace.

The attendant, Idis, opened the door, announcing them.

"Who are you?"

They were greeted by three handmaids, none of them human. One had the features of a cat, another a cobra and the last an alligator.

"They are the guards the queen had requested," Idis explained calmly.

"Let them in," a fourth person approached their group. This time it was not a demi-human. It was a young woman with a proud and magnetic gaze, on whose arms rested a feline creature with thick white fur.

She had long braided black hair, in which small gems of various colors shone like morning light. Her skin was dark, sun-kissed. Hazel eyes fixed themselves on Aeneas, catching him in a hypnotic dance of stares.

"Are you my new guard?" The woman did not flinch at the sight of the newcomers, but remained as calm as desert sand in broad daylight.

"Yes. I am Aeneas, pleased to meet you."

Thin lips joined in a confident grin at his reply.

"Shaimaaa El-Aziz, Queen of Tel-Hoorusan." An indomitable voice, blazing like the most scorching fire. The luxurious robes she wore moved thanks to the arrival of a dry wind blown in through a window, revealing the toned figure of a warrior. "And you are from the Theocracy?"

"Yes," a dry answer.

Slap.

Aeneas touched his cheek that had suffered the affront. More in astonishment than in pain.

"This is the welcome given to your people!"

What had seemed like an oasis to him had turned out to be a mirage.

Aeneas sighed.

This was not going to be easy.