In the heart of the imperial palace in Tamera, Emperor Zuberi Tegnazian strode into the ruling council formal meeting hall. The emperor was a tall, distinguished-looking man with a handsome face and thick mane of salt-and-pepper hair, who wore his authority as easily as he did his fine robes.
He smiled into the empty hall. He loved how this room smelled. The huge horseshoe-shaped mahogany table around which the council sat added a hint of wood polish to the clean, crisp air. High overhead, a circular stained-glass window that depicted the map of the empire let in a rainbow of light that gave the room a cheery air.
The emperor's aide had served him for most of his thirty-year reign. He knew to wait a moment for Emperor Tegnazian to enjoy the peace of the room that would soon be filled with bustling activity.
The emperor strode toward his throne-like seat at the apex of the table's curve and his aide resumed his running monologue.
"Sentinel Felix will arrive momentarily to discuss security and Sentinel training in your absence. The ambassadors are expected shortly, and all is being finalized for departure of the imperial crown fleet for Diodor with the morning tide tomorrow.
"Very well." Emperor Tegnazian sat in his council chair, his mind working through the hundred details still to be finalized prior to departure.
Crimson fire exploded out of the chair as soon as he settled into it. Flames engulfed him and searing pain screamed from every inch of exposed skin.
As the emperor convulsed in pain, his aide opened his mouth to shout the alarm. A tongue of crimson fire whipped out to envelope him too.
Emperor Tegnazian writhed in the fire, seared by unbelievable agony. Yet he couldn't move, couldn't throw himself from the burning chair.
Through the billowing flames, he saw his personal guards rush into the room. He was denied the ability to scream in agony or grief as waist-thick ropes of fire leaped across the room to envelope them.
The guards fell screaming to the ground. Within the flames they writhed and shrank, as if their flesh was being melted away. Within seconds even their bones dissolved into ash.
The emperor convulsed within the flames and wondered why he still lived. Agony raked his skin and fire poured into his open mouth as he breathed and tried vainly to scream. His innards felt as if they were melting, and yet still he lived.
The outer guard poured into the room and Zuberi wept tears of fire as he watched them fall to the flames. But while the first guards had withered and died, these guards fell to the ground and writhed within the flames like he did.
Emperor Tegnazian tried to form a plea for help, a prayer to the gods, but the pain consumed everything. He could do nothing but stare through the flames and, like an animal, struggle against his invisible bonds even though he knew he could not escape.
Then Ambassador Janezeko of Freyarr entered the room with Urun, the Sentinel from Donarr assigned as the emperor's personal magical bodyguard. Emperor Tegnazian wanted to shout for joy when he saw the heavyset Sentinel.
Urun stopped in the doorway at the sight of the crimson fire filling the council chamber. Ambassador Janezeko charged into the room in a show of courage that surprised and moved the emperor, and then saddened him when he realized the futility of it.
Urun shouted, the words lost to the emperor, drowned out by the thundering rush of flames burning around his head. Ambassador Janezeko skidded to a halt.
He was already too late.
A tendril of fire whipped toward the ambassador, but the Sentinel shouted and threw out a hand.
A spear of white magic flashed across the room to intercept the flames reaching for Janezeko. The ambassador stumbled back toward the door, and Urun backed in that direction, glowing hands raised to ward off the angry flames.
The fire enveloping the fallen soldiers flared, and one of them withered and died. The flames grew stronger, roaring like a dozen lions. A wall of fire shot out to encircle Urun and cut off his retreat.
He shouted again and threw out his hands. Pure white power pulsed out from him in a sphere that drove the flames back.
Zuberi tried to shout his encouragement. Urun would save him.
Then a new tentacle of fire leaped high overhead and, as Urun looked up to track its movement, it drove down through his white sphere of power and speared into his open mouth. Urun convulsed as red fire plunged into his body. His arms and legs shook and his eyes opened wide in a silent scream that died a second later.
The emperor had to watch as Urun shriveled and dissolved under the onslaught of the evil magic.
Within three heartbeats, there was no evidence Urun ever existed. The sight of the Sentinel's horrific death chased Emperor Tegnazian into welcome oblivion.
# # #
Duke Braden Janezeko, Lord of Parthalan, Freyarri ambassador to the emperor, and sitting member of the Ruling Council, staggered out of the council chamber and fell to his knees. His stomach convulsed, and only with an extreme effort did he keep from vomiting. The image of Urun's grisly death burned so hot in his mind he wondered if it would ever dim.
The sound of rapid footsteps drew his gaze. The captain of the emperor's elite guard arrived, followed closely by the immensely fat Sentinel Felix.
The captain cried, "What's going on here?" He moved toward the open door.
Braden lunged after him and grabbed his arm. "Don't. You'll die." He couldn't bear to watch another person die like Urun did.
"Let me go," the captain snarled. "The emperor's in there."
"You can't help him."
"I can," Felix panted. He adjusted his robes and marched to the door.
"Beware," Braden said, inching toward the door after Felix and the captain.
When the captain saw the emperor writing in the magical flames, he cried out and made to step forward. Felix blocked him with an arm, his gaze locked on the burning room.
"Ambassador Janezeko is right. Stay where you are or you'll only fuel the spell."
"Can you undo this?" the captain asked.
"I mean to try."
Felix stepped into the room, hands raised. Braden nearly pulled him back, but Felix was an Elite Sentinel, in charge of training and security in Harafin's absence. Surely he of all people could deal with this threat.
Crackling flames lashed out at Felix, and Braden took an involuntary step back. Several paces short of the fat Sentinel, the crimson tentacles bounced back off of an invisible shield.
Felix grunted and muttered something to himself. Power crackled through the air like lightning. Hundreds of flashes of blue light rippled across the council chamber and the smell of burning hair drifted to Braden.
Wherever the mini-lightning struck, the fire wavered and retreated. Braden shared a triumphant look with the captain.
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Then fire erupted out of the air all around Felix. The heat drove Braden and the captain back through the open door.
In the room, Felix stood within a pillar of billowing flames. Braden could barely see him, couldn't tell if he was burning or not. The memory of Urun being consumed from the inside by the magic nearly caused him to vomit all over the captain.
Felix raised his hands within the flames, but instead of disappearing, the fire burned hotter. Braden shielded his face, and the skin on the back of his hand reddened under the intense heat.
Then the flames winked out and Felix backed to the doorway. He was breathing heavily, but looked unharmed. He placed his hands on either side of the door.
The evil magic grasped toward him again, but a shimmering shield filled the doorway and the flames could not pass.
Felix turned his back on the council chamber and wiped his sweaty face. His robes were singed and the tips of his hair curled under the heat.
He grunted. "Rogue Fire."
"What does that mean?" Braden asked.
Behind Felix, the flames had settled over the emperor and the other guards again. They seemed to pulse in a rhythm far too regular for normal fire. After a moment, Braden realized what it was.
Beside him the captain gasped. "Their heartbeats."
"Aye," Felix said. "Their souls are tied to the flames now."
"The emperor," the captain gasped. "He still lives!"
Felix blocked the man from throwing himself through the glowing doorway. "Yes. I imagine he's in great pain, but he lives."
"I have to save him."
"Then stop being a fool," Felix said sharply. "Go, quickly. Summon the other Sentinels."
"Which ones."
"All of them."
The captain saluted and raced away. Braden tried to compose himself, but before he could ask Felix any more questions, the other ambassadors on the council arrived in a group.
When they learned the situation, they began arguing about what to do. Some suggested they retreat so as to maintain leadership in the empire if Sentinel Felix's shields failed.
Braden said, "Run away then, cowards. Run while those who have the courage to face evil make the important decisions.
There was no more talk about leaving, but of the six ambassadors, there were at least five different ideas about what should be done. The ambassadors from Einarr and Donarr thought alike and usually agreed on most decisions. This proved no different.
They recommended the palace guard be roused and put on high alert to ward against any other attacks. Given recent happenings in Hallvarr, the threat could not be ignored.
The fat ambassador from Meinarr immediately complained about the added cost to the imperial budget. He recommended they pass an emergency motion to raise taxes on all durable goods and foodstuffs to offset expected higher expenditures.
The Hallvarri ambassador said little. He finally commented that this would likely delay the emperor's expected departure. Then wondered if there might be some impact on the expected coronation of his nephew.
The aged Tamarri king, who served also as the host nation's ambassador, managed a weak laugh. "Of course it'll impact the departure, you dolt."
Braden listened to them for a few minutes and then clapped his hands together loudly to draw their attention. "My friends, you are all missing the point here."
"What point is that?" asked the Einarri ambassador, Garitt Talamantez.
He stood straight as a spear despite his fifty years. He kept his steel-gray hair cropped short as if he were still a cavalryman, and he regarded Braden with piercing hazel eyes. The two often argued, but he could sometimes help the man see reason.
"We must consider the fact that even once the other Sentinels arrive and, gods willing, break this evil curse, the emperor will likely be disabled for a period of time. Given the nature of the attack, we may assume it is tied to recent events in Hallvarr as a broader aggressive strategy of pre-emptive strikes aimed at destabilizing our nation in a time of impending conflict."
"Get to the point, you pompous windbag," said the huge Donarri ambassador. Duke Perun Kescog was once one of his nation's greatest warriors. Now middle aged and running to fat, he was still an imposing man.
Braden despised him.
In almost any situation, he and Perun generally took opposing sides. Any chance Braden sometimes had of helping Garitt see reason often died with Perun's obstinate, thick-headed, arguments. The man seemed to think the best way to solve any problem was to hit it enough times with his axe.
Some problems required more subtle solutions, so Braden controlled his frustration. "I could get to the point more quickly if you didn't interrupt, Ambassador."
Duke Kescog snorted. "Braden, you always have to grandstand as if we're in the Great Hall in front of thousands of people. Just say what you have to say, man."
"Very well. I move that we pass a resolution granting interim powers of administration to a successor until such time as the emperor recovers his faculties."
Perun snorted again. "I only need one guess to figure out who you nominate."
Braden spread his hands. "I'll gladly expound upon my qualifications and justifications for the choice unless you have a better candidate in mind."
"It's not a bad idea," High Lord Damarist of Hallvarr said. "We need someone in charge."
Ambassador Talamantez of Einarr shook his head slowly. "Braden, I'm disappointed in you. The emperor's been incapacitated for all of ten minutes and you're already trying to take the throne."
Braden shook his head. "Why turn jealousy into resentment, my old friend?"
"Jealousy?"
"I can't help it that my mind moves faster than most, that I immediately saw the need that none of you yet grasped, and moved to fill it."
Duke Kescog barked a laugh. "That's one way to describe what you do."
A large group of white-robed Sentinels jogged up the hall, interrupting the argument. Felix invited Braden and the other ambassadors to withdraw far enough for the other Sentinels to encircle the doorway with him. He spent a few minutes conversing with them, explaining what he had in mind.
Many of the younger Sentinels murmured in surprise when they heard what had happened, and several of them jockeyed around the doorway for a better view of the cursed flames.
"We are ready," Felix declared at last.
The Sentinels silently shifted positions in what looked at first like random movements. After a moment, Braden realized what they were doing. Each Sentinel placed a glowing hand on the shoulder of another, who in turn placed his hand on yet another. Sometimes several of the younger Sentinels combined, all touching the same older Sentinel. Eventually they formed an unbroken chain with Felix at its head.
The fat Sentinel's impressive girth swelled further, and he began to glow. He threw his hands out wide, palms facing inward. The shimmering shield that had blocked the door swept into the room and expanded around the flames until it formed a glowing half-sphere that encased the cursed fire.
The trapped flames flared ugly red, as if sensing their imminent destruction. Fire blasted in all directions but rebounded from the shield dome. Wherever fire touched the dome, blue light flashed and mini-lightning bolts ripped into the flames and dispersed them.
Felix slowly began to draw his hands closer together. In response, the dome shrank around the flames, driving them inward.
Braden found it hard to breathe as he watched. So much hung on the outcome of this attempt. Beside him, Ambassador Talamantez was grimacing and leaning forward as if he were willing the Sentinels on and yearning to leap into the mystic battle with sword and spear.
The dome continued to contract until it almost touched the outermost soldier who lay within the flames. At that point, the fire flared around the man. His body shriveled and melted under the onslaught, sacrificed to fuel the spell.
The obese Ambassador Severin Gwyre of Meinarr gasped and retched. The stench of his vomit filled the crowded hallway. He croaked, "You must stop. You're killing them."
The captain of the guard said, "No. The emperor is all that matters. Sacrifice every one of us if you must, but save him."
The dome continued to compress. Sentinel Felix's hands began to shake under the strain of holding the spell together. One of the young Sentinels at the end of the linked chain collapsed, his face ashen.
Duke Kescog rushed to the man, dragged him out of the way, and cushioned his head with his own cloak.
"What happened to him?" High Lord Damarist asked.
Duke Kescog said, "They're focusing their strength on Felix. The fellow must have overextended himself."
Another young Sentinel collapsed. This time, Garitt Talamantez drew him from the crowd.
High Lord Damarist asked in a trembling voice. "What happens if they all fall?"
"Silence," Braden snapped. The fool couldn't help himself, but Braden wished he could slap the idiot.
In the room, another soldier withered under the cursed flames and the fire rose up again to assault the shield. After a blinding series of mini-lightning flashes that left Braden blinking fast to restore his vision, the flames subsided around the captured soldiers.
"They're almost there," Garitt breathed.
The Captain shouted, "Stop! Stop, you're killing him."
Sure enough, the emperor now writhed in the flames. He seemed to be shrinking.
He was dying.
Felix brought his arms out wide, and the dome retreated. The emperor continued to writhe in the flames, so Felix snapped his fingers and the dome disappeared.
The emperor sagged in his chair and no longer appeared to be dying under the flames' power. It was as if the flames were sentient and knew the Sentinels were beaten for now.
Tentacles of fire whipped across the room toward the open doorway. Felix raised his hands and a shield appeared in the opening to block the fire. It flared angrily but then subsided again.
Felix turned to face them, his face drenched in sweat. The other Sentinels broke their hold, and many of them sagged against each other.
Felix wiped his face. "This is the most complex enchantment I've seen in over a century."
"Can you break it?" the captain asked softly.
Felix shook his head slowly. "The emperor's life is tied to the spell. It's ingenious, really. If it weren't for that, I could shatter it now. But by linking his life to its continued existence, the curse guarantees I cannot stop it."
"Then he'll die?" the captain asked, his face pale and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Not necessarily." Felix blew out a breath. "It is possible one of the High Council knows how to break this spell. Harafin, in particular, has extensive knowledge in this area."
"Send for him at once," Braden said in unison with Perun and Garitt.
Felix nodded. Behind him, the flames flared blindingly. Everyone turned to look. Etched into the stone of the chamber wall was a single sentence.
Abaval will rule the world.