Tionghoa’s conquest of Santara was officially completed with the taking of Mocasar, the capital of the former Eastern Kingdom. However, many more years were spent with the hunting down of the Borromeans, the priestly tribe of the Yakobinians. A small remnant was able to escape to the Australis continent, assimilate into the mercantile elites of Dun, and they eventually formed the Kingdom of Dun-a-din.

In the centuries that followed, the Tionghoa relaxed their policy of extermination, believing their position in the archipelago to be secure. This allowed the Kingdom of Dun-a-din to flourish and become one of the ‘Three Kingdoms’ of Eastern Santara.

How the Tionghoa must have regretted their centuries-past decision!

I suspect the size of the Tionghoa fleet was not just their desire to conquer Dun-a-din itself, but also an attempt to rectify their mistake.

The Dragon Emperor appointed Admiral Ming He, a famed explorer for the Empire. I have heard that Ming He had led various expeditions all around the world, including the circumnavigation of the Australis continent. This seemed to be an odd choice for a commander of the invasion fleet, but Ming He was also an experienced naval commander, having won a great victory for the Tionghoa against invaders from the Land Where the Sun Rises.

More importantly, the admiral was familiar with the Arafura Sea. The waters there are... odd. It’s hard to describe, but ship travel there could be unpredictable at times; I know because I had done it many times in my studies, not to mention that time the Padri had to make a stop at Nanmadol.

This is to say that the Tionghoa was pulling all the stops to take out Dun-a-din. But so were we to defend her, all four of our fleets were raring to go. At this point, the Paloeans and the Puncakians had their fleet in Timor while the Dunadinians and the Lesteans were in the Port of Dun-a-din.

For the purpose of convenience, I shall refer to the collective Paloean and Puncakian fleets as the ‘Paloean group’, and the collective Dunadinian and Lestean fleets as the ‘Dunadinian group’.

Now let us move on.

As expected, Lord Aron left behind Lady Paradisa with Josue. Given how things were, we could not be sure of our survival, even should we prevail. Protecting the two back home were Arphaxad and the Riders of Dun-a-din.

I remember the night before our departure. We were to leave first thing in the morning. Unable to sleep, I hung around the castle’s dining room. I was ready to pour myself a glass of wine when I caught sight of my little brother; the boy was holding on to something small in his burning left hand.

“Josue!” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” he said shyly. “You’re not in your room, so I thought you’d be here, drinking.”

I was about to protest in my defense. But having realized little Josue’s precociousness, I changed the subject instead. “Never mind me. Why aren’t you sleeping.”

“I can’t sleep, so I wanted to get this done now. I wish mama was here too, but she’s busy.”

“You mean she’s asleep?”

“No. I mean she’s busy. With papa.”

There was an awkward silence between us; it lasted for a minute before I broke it. “I see. What is it, then?”

Josue stepped forward and handed me a necklace, the pendant was shaped like a water droplet, and it was blue in color.

“What’s this?”

“It’s for you, silly. Mama and I made it. It was my idea to have it look like water since you’re a water mage.”

I smiled, struggling to hold back tears. “Thank you, Josue. It’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it always.”

And I do, I don’t think I’ve ever let that thing out of my sight ever since I got it. But at the moment, I was also concerned with Josue’s countenance, he wanted to say something, hesitated, before he finally came out and say it:

“You’ll come back to us, won’t you, big brother? You and papa?”

I wanted to assure him; I really did. But I didn’t want to make a promise I can’t deliver. “I’ll do my best to stay alive, Josue.”

My little brother accepted the answer, but he was clearly disappointed, I could tell from his forced smile. “Then I’ll see you again!”

And that was the extent of our conversation. The next day, we were ready to leave for battle. I remember well the scores of Dunadinian citizens sending us off as heroes, among them was Queen Paradisa and Prince Josue.

That was the last time I saw little Josue.

At this point, I must add that we had learned that the Tionghoa had taken a different route to Dun-a-din than we had expected. The shorter route would have been to go south from the island of Ba-Li. Instead, they headed north, going around the entire island of Leste before finally heading south. This was a strange route to take, but once again, Livia had predicted this. She told us beforehand that the Tionghoa would do all they can to stay as far away as possible from the Komodo Forest (the heavily forested area of western Leste and the supposed home of the Komodo Dragon).

This change of course bought us some time. When we finally located the Tionghoa fleet, we were not happy. Why? Because it meant our battle would take place just a few leagues southeast from Nanmadol. Tactically speaking, this was a good thing for us. As I have said before, the Paloean and Puncakian fleets were stationed in Timor and with the Dunadinian and Lesten fleets having left from Dun-a-din, we could pincer the Tionghoa fleet where they were. However, we did not want to be anywhere near Nanmadol for an extended period of time.

Our fears aside, this was indeed our opportunity. Our fleets began our approach, the Paloean group from the east, and the Dunadinian group from the south.

Aboard the Leviathan, I had one final conversation with Lord Aron. He was on edge, to say the least. With the Tionghoa ships now on the horizon, Athanasius’ prophecy once again weighed heavily on his soul.

“Yu,” he called to me.

“Yes, lord.”

“Now that Josue had been born, there is nothing to stop my punishment. I fear I will not survive this battle.”

I remained silent, not knowing what to say in return.

“That is why,” he continued, “You must take care of Dun-a-din in my stead. You and Drusus. Take care of Josue for me, guide him and make sure he becomes the High King, one worthy of El Shaddai Himself.”

I responded with a smile. “As long as I draw breath, I will do everything in my power to ensure that happens. And I’m sure Drusus feels the same way.”

Lord Aron’s face brightened, his relief evident. “Thank you, my son. Now let us be ready, we have a battle to win.”

And indeed, we did. The Battle of the Arafura Sea was to be my most difficult battle yet, even more harrowing than the Siege of Khmer.

If Lord Aron hadn’t already given a speech before we departed from Dun-a-din, he would have done so when we spotted the Tionghoa ships. Perhaps. I doubt we really had the time for rousing speeches given the proximity of the enemy. In any case, we knew what was at stake.

Though we were outnumbered, we had the advantage of being able to attack from multiple sides.

I didn’t know for certain at the time, but Admiral Ming He was struggling to get his huge fleet to move as one. That being said, it was something to be expected given the size of the fleet.

Stolen story; please report.

On the other hand, communications between our various fleets was also difficult. Drusus and Lord Aron used messenger birds to communicate between their respective ships, but we couldn’t use that method for the Paloean group. We had to use flyer messengers; we would send a messenger on a wyvern while the Paloeans had a messenger on a pegasus.

Before I describe our attack on the Tionghoa, it is necessary to describe how they are set up.

The Tionghoa fleet was organized in a wedge formation. Admiral Ming He believed that the transports needed to be protected at all costs. Thus, he made sure the combat ships were at the edges while the transports were in the middle. Each of the ships were facing outwards, ensuring that there were no blind spots to be taken advantage of.

There was no easy way to crack open the Tionghoa defenses, and Sultan Kochba opted for a frontal assault. Lord Protector Davit went along with this seemingly suicidal plan.

From the east, the Paloean group sailed, seemingly to the valley of the shadow of death. But the flyers of Puncak, those brave men and women of the mountains, were the first to enter the kill zone. The Tionghoa fired off their cannons and muskets in response.

In the decades to come, the Puncakians’ charge would become the stuff of legends. It was also the basis for a common saying Santara: fly like the bees, fall like the flies.

Yes, readers, the Puncakians fell in great numbers in that initial charge. But their sacrifice allowed the outranged Paloean ships to close in on the enemy. And once they were within range, they fired their weapons: bows, ballistae, onagers, and fire magic courtesy of the Sultan.

And Kochba’s blaze of inferno was the first real punch we landed on the Tionghoa. It set off a chain reaction of fire so great that I could see leagues away from the Leviathan.

While what I was written above was happening, the Dunadinian group also had its own battle…

Unlike their Paloean counterparts, we were not outranged; our cannons allowed our ships to engage the Tionghoa on an even footing. We were outnumbered, however. I made sure to concentrate our ships on a single target at a time. My strategy was successful enough in sinking Tionghoa ships. For every one of our ships that were sunk, we were able to sink one of theirs, and some more. Of course, this wasn’t good enough given our circumstances.

Truly, I was out of my element in this battle.

But the battle would turn around for us soon enough. It was when we saw the flames that Kochba had started that we received a messenger bird from Drusus. It read as follows:

Lord Aron. Tionghoa ships are moving to cover their eastern flank. They left us an opening. The Lesteans shall move to exploit this opportunity. May El Shaddai be with us.

I could not begin to describe King Aron’s fury upon learning this news. In fact, he looked ready to cut open the messenger bird with his sword and eat it for dinner.

“We must stop him!” he said.

“We can’t,” I responded. “Or rather, we shouldn’t. Drusus is right, this is an opportunity.”

Thankfully, my lord allowed reason to prevail over him, begrudgingly. “You’re right. But for the Lesteans to go there by themselves is suicide, they need help.”

“I’ll do it,” I said. “Send me and the lizardmen to help the Lesteans. Together, we will put an end to the Tionghoa threat. I know we can!”

Lord Aron hesitated for what seemed to be an eternity before he finally gave the order. And so, we made the preparations.

Unlike the rest of us, the lizardmen didn’t get to the battlefield by ship. They either swam or rode their sea serpents. During the initial phase of the battle when we were exchanging fire, they waited there, idling. I could tell their impatience because at one point Tikal boarded the Leviathan in order to ask us when we would attack in earnest.

Well, the time had finally arrived. But just as I was to disembark from the Leviathan to a sea serpent, Lord Aron held my arm, and he said one final thing:

“My son,” he began, “promise me that you and Drusus will come back alive.”

I was about to do so before I caught myself. “I’ll do my best,” I said instead.

But Lord Aron refused to let me go. He was insistent on that promise.

I gave my lord the saddest look I could, then I told him, “I’m sorry, Lord Aron. I don’t want to make a promise I can’t deliver.”

And once again, my lord’s fury returned with a vengeance. “Then I’ll make the promise. If you two don’t return alive, then I’ll never forgive you! Never!”

Truly, my lord’s words was like a dagger cutting through my heart. But I steeled myself. I had no intention of dying on these seas anyways.

The squadron of lizardmen would have swum slowly to catch up with the Lesteans, but with my water magic, I was able to generate the currents to get to that gap in good time.

By the time, we caught up to the Lesteans, the Tionghoa fleet was in a pandemonium of battles. I saw Lestean ships crashing into Tionghoa ones, boarding actions abound; Tionghoa and Khmerians clashing swords against one another. The sky, meanwhile, was full of wyverns flying about. Meanwhile, the transports were burning, not just from Kochba’s magic but also from the flames belched by Lestean wyverns.

Yes, readers, the wyverns of Leste can breathe fire. It was not the first time I witnessed such a thing, but this was the first I saw it having such a significant impact on the battlefield that I am compelled to mention it in these writings.

Of course, with Tionghoa soldiers, especially musketeers, getting on the decks of their ships, the Lesteans soon found themselves overwhelmed. And like how the pegasi and the gryphons of Puncak fell like flies in the initial charge, the wyverns of Leste began to do so as well. Though it took more shots to take out a wyvern that it did a Puncakian mount.

This was where the lizardmen and I came into the picture. And as it turned out, the Tionghoa ships simply had no answer to the lizardmen who began to board the ships.

Either that, or they began cutting into the hulls below the waterline of the Tionghoa ships, causing a breach that in time would sink many a ships into the Arafura.

Mayhem reigned in the Tionghoa fleet. Readers must keep in mind while this was happening, Lord Aron and the main Dunadinian fleet continued to bombard the Tionghoa from afar. It was certainly having the desired effect, as Tionghoa ships sunk in great numbers, and they were unable to respond in kind.

Aboard his flagship at the center of the fleet, Admiral Ming He attempted to give his orders, but in the chaos of the battle, they came a jumbled mess. Some Tionghoa ships attempted to move east to attack the Paloeans, others tried to engage the Dunadinians down south, still others tried to assist the transport ships at the center. What was once an orchestra of ships had become a cacophony of traffic jam, with Tionghoa ships crashing into one another.

Even so, the Lestean attack had been skirting the lines of suicide from the beginning. And it certainly would have been so if it wasn’t for the assistance of the lizardmen and I. Then, it happened…

Drusus son of Gaius of the Tribe Marius, the warrior without equal, fell in battle.

I was fighting at another ship, but I saw it with my own eyes. Drusus was charging into the Tionghoa flagship; flanking the warrior without equal were two wyvern riders, Lestean nobles. And they were berserk, all three of them.

Perhaps a part of me had known this was about to happen, which was why Tikal and I rushed to get the attention of the nearest flyers we could, which turned out to be a squad of Puncakian gryphon riders.

I remember my frustration at Drusus’ recklessness, which led to his death. But I also understood. His sacrifice had ensured that our enemy could never threaten us again. At this point, Admiral Ming He was attempting to make his escape while Drusus and two Lestean nobles were in hot pursuit.

Even from a distance, I could see the Tionghoa kill zone; rows of musketeers ready to cover their leader’s escape. And as soon as the Lesteans entered the ship, musketeers fired their weapons. And the wyverns were bloodied, riddled by bullets. But wyvern-hides were thick, and the beasts themselves were disciplined. The two Lesteans nobles charged them while the musketeers were reloading. Meanwhile, Drusus charged at the fleeing Ming He. Even despite the Despot’s wounds, the Tionghoa admiral had no chance. Drusus’ wyvern flew in like the wind, and Drusus pierced Ming He’s heart from the back, killing him instantly.

But there were still musketeers, those who were not taken out by the Lestean nobles. The Tionghoa fired their next volley, eager to avenge their admiral. And they did.

Drusus’ mount had taken one too many bullets and it collapsed to the ground. And the warrior without equal was caught under the weight of his ride.

The Lestean nobles… they also suffered the same fate. By the time I arrived with Tikal and our Puncakian drivers, it was too late. We finished off the musketeers, but the damage was already done.

When I dismounted from my gryphon ride, I knew I had little time. I saw Drusus lying on a pool of blood, surely his wyvern’s, but I saw his arm reaching out for help. He’s still alive! There is hope for him yet! Such was my thoughts.

But Drusus soon coughed blood, dispelling every bit of my optimism. The warrior without equal was going to die, and he knew it. Yet, he smiled. And the following was his last words:

“Prince Yuanxi! Take care of Livia and Agrippina for me. And of course, Lord Aron too. I leave them in your capable hands.”

When Despot Drusus breathed his last, I felt… many things. Sorrow, to be sure. But also, guilt, owing to what Lord Aron had said to me earlier. Of course, guilt is perhaps too strong of a word, perhaps responsibility.

That feeling of responsibility was why I made sure to bring Drusus’ body to Lord Aron. I knew I had failed my King; I had no excuses.

The battle was won, but it didn’t feel like a victory. When I placed Drusus’ lifeless corpse before Lord Aron, I said nothing. Then I quickly ran off before the King could say anything. I heard his shouts, calling for me, but I ignored them.

I remember getting to the bow of the Leviathan, just wanting to stare at the sea. Little did I know that a shadow of Nanmadol had been stalking me ever since the start of the battle. That assassin finally revealed himself. Before I knew it, I found myself dangling in the air, held up by my neck. The assassin placed a dagger straight into my chest, then threw me overboard into the sea.

And that, dear readers, was how I died. Strangely enough, I still had trouble remembering my death in the Arafura. I remember only two things: the assassin’s dagger, cold as ice magic, lodged in my heart, and the salty water assaulting my tongue.

Lord Aron, Tikal, and the Dunadinans pursued after the shadow, but he was gone as quick as he had appeared.

Thus was the Battle of the Arafura. Other than the loss of me and Drusus, it was a resounding victory for the Padri. The defeat of the Tionghoa was such that the Dragon Emperor agreed to cancel his bounty on Prince Josue and guarantee his safety so long as Dun-a-din remain at peace with Tionghoa. In fact, all parties involved agreed to a non-aggression pact. Yes, even the Paloeans. Known as the Peace of Timor, this collective non-aggression pact bounded all Santara and kept the archipelago in a general state of peace for the next twenty years.