The palace guards let him pass without even questioning his intentions. They merely nodded with respect as the staff-laden Red Prophet passed by the gates that closed sharply behind him. Nege wiped the sweat from his face, sucking a little energy from his weapon to ease his thirst and stabilize his weakened body.

Once again walking toward the wide door to the palace courtyard, two stern soldiers grew sterner as they held their Truscan tower shields and pikes, standing beside the courtyard entrance. Nege caught the faintest glimpse of something, then felt the sense of it emanating from the soldier. It was hope, centered on Nege.

Scratching the cut that had bloodied his thin leather jacket, Nege wondered if there was a tailor who could mend the alien material. A long gash covered the front, the flapping caused by a lucky swing from the curved blade of a Teljuk Yanisry, the elite soldiers Hemend had organized specifically for the siege. Nege was still unsure whether or not Murel would be willing to heal him, consider how the wound was earned. Since it didn’t hurt too much, Nege decided to try his best to ignore it.

“The Patriarch has gone to plead with the White at Infinity’s Wisdom,” a purple-clothed attendant said as he led the wounded Nege through the frescoed halls and open-aired porticos of the imperial palace. “Otherwise he would be here to congratulate you.” Keeper of the emperor’s household, the man rubbed his wrinkled hands together in eager anticipation of aiding both his guest and his ruler. Every now and then Nege noticed him glancing down halls or at the floor, spotting minor flaws that only one who’d spent decades in this massive building could notice or even be concerned with.

“Tell him not to bother,” Nege said, sensing no insult from the elderly keeper. “I wouldn’t want him getting worked up over it anyway. He probably misinterpreted what happened.”

The keeper laughed, a polite and casual laugh worthy of delighting the highest Triumphan diplomat. “Yes, well, please accept his humble apologies, and his thanks to Infinity for guiding you to us.”

Nege had an urge to roll his eyes, but knew the act would be an insult to the hyper-aware keeper. So he simply smiled, knowing the old man lacked the same empathic nature Nege had.

Led to a small door at the far west end of the palace, chambers below the rest of the formerly opulent imperial home, the keeper paused to nod at Nege before opening the door for him. “Your Imperial Majesty, Nege of the Red Prophets,” the keeper said with a bow, stepping aside for Nege to pass.

Nege assumed the emperor had been expecting company, that or the keeper felt it necessary to interrupt Eternine the Third.

“Nege of the Red,” Eternine said with a smile, his arms spread wide in a t-shape as a plain-faced attendant flung a heavy breastplate over the emperor’s body. “I suppose I should thank you.”

Before Nege could open his mouth, the keeper closed the door behind him. “Not exactly,” Nege replied, leaning weakly on his staff with both hands, trying to hide his wound from the emperor.

“Oh?” The emperor kept his arms spread as his attendants laced the straps of the gilded armor. Gold and black lacquer covered the ornately crafted breastplate. The same symbol that his empire’s flag displayed, the double-headed eagle with the globe of Infinity between its raised wings, shone almost alive on the thick metal. Eternine grunted as he tried to shift. “It’s a little heavy, don’t you think?”

“It’s not meant to be used in a fight, majesty,” the attendant strapping on the armor said. “Deflecting arrows and ballistics is all you should be concerned with at the distance you’ll be.”

“Hmm.” The emperor’s grunt gave off a sense of doubt Nege couldn’t help but feel. “They say this armor hasn’t been worn in ages, that emperors haven’t fought alongside their soldiers for a very long time.” The statement was directed toward Nege, and came across with disdain behind it.

“They usually have good reasons. Emperors are important,” Nege noted.

“True. But it also might be the reason we’ve seen defeat so often recently. I intend to change that.” As if he could see the worry this put into his attendants, the emperor smiled back at them. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure and stay away from the front as much as possible. But I have no intention of watching my city fight for its life from the comfort of this palace.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Is that why you saved me? You wanted to have a chat?” The emperor’s laugh shook the recently polished armor as he stepped off the stool he’d been on, his imperial regalia firmly in place. “There are easier ways to get my attention.”

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“That was a complete accident,” Nege said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

“Accident,” Eternine said, cocking his head to the side as if he were studying the word. “It was a complete accident that you happened to be at the eastern sea wall, that you happened to be strolling along near the circus’s boxes.” Eternine moved his fingers along like legs, illustrating with a visual Nege’s recent wanderings along Eternon’s massive stadium and palace defenses.

“I didn’t even know the box led here.”

“Of course you did. But I will just pretend that an elite group of Teljuk assassins and warriors simply happened upon the deadliest man in this city before they could get to me. It was very unlucky for them.”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“Maybe not. But you fought them with your shining red weapon there till only half of them were standing, long enough for my guards to realize the circus box guards had been killed and come to exact vengeance. I’m told the two Teljuks that survived informed us this was an assassination attempt. From what their captors told me, they would have succeeded had you not interfered.”

“Don’t forget about your other guards,” Nege offered, “They—”

“Oh stop. I am just sick and tired of you Prophets. You come here getting my people’s hopes up and then you just want to sit around. Now here you are saving lives at the walls, stopping skirmishes, and fighting assassins,” Eternine the Third said and walked toward the Red, trying to gauge him. “I know where your White and Gold stand. They want to see me fall. I can’t do anything about that. But you… I don’t know where you stand. Not even your fellow Prophets do.”

“I’m a Red.”

Eternine laughed once, considered the statement, then laughed again as he shook his head. The statement seemed to satisfy every question the emperor had. He turned away from the Prophet and walked toward a line of imperial weapons. He reached up to a dusty wooden rack and took from it a sheathed broadsword, an onyx globe set in its pommel.

“What did you want to talk about?” the emperor asked.

“Your name,” Nege said.

“My name?” Eternine chuckled as he strapped the sword in place at his side. He pulled tight on the final loop. “What about it?”

“It gave you a lot to live up to. How does that feel?”

“My thoughts and feelings aren’t important in regards to my name.” Eternine quickly scanned his armor and arms in the full-body mirror near the back of the room. One of his attendants had to wipe years of dust off it. Once clean, the mirror displayed a middle-aged man with lines of weariness a man twenty years older would possess.

The emperor didn’t seem quite satisfied with what he saw. But he adjusted the breastplate with a quick, deep breath, and turned to the Prophet to say, “Nothing about me is. If you’re intending to write a history of this incident or something, bother me once it’s already happened. I can’t have your philosophy and curiosity getting in the way of my strategies.”

Eternine headed toward the door, trying to ignore the Prophet who stood leaning on a red staff. The emperor walked swiftly, needing to meet with his generals, before Nege stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.

“So you’re authentic,” Nege said. The Red quickly realized even a few moments of touching the emperor agitated the man. He quickly put his hang back against his staff, reverting to a casual stance. “I thought you were. But I had to know for sure.”

“What are you talking about?” Eternine asked.

“Majesty,” one of the attendants waiting to open the door said, “your generals will be waiting. Scouts have reported Teljuk infantry forming ranks—”

“One moment. Speak your peace, Prophet. If that’s what you intend to bring.”

“Two Truscan emperors were named Eternine before. They both saved the empire. They were both great men. You were born into that, born into being an emperor,” Nege explained. “If you think I can ignore all that’s going on in this siege, Emperor, you’re wrong. I’ve been in many similar situations, seen many great leaders. But not all of them were authentic.”

“But I am?”

Nege nodded. “I’ve known kings, emperors who were born into power and didn’t care about anything but keeping it, growing that power. It would be easy for the man born with the highest of names in the highest of empires to think just like those men.”

“My empire is dust compared to what it once was,” Eternine the Third said, gripping the cold stone on his pommel. “I had to do everything possible to keep even that alive.”

“That you did. And at first I thought you were trying to simply revive the old empire, keep the crusades going. But I think you’re something different. You don’t care about titles or glory, just saving your empire.”

Deep bells rang out. The echoes from the belltower in Infinity’s Wisdom struck deep creases of worry into the emperor’s face. He took a quick glance out the window before turning back to Nege. “This will not be the final assault, Prophet, but I need to be there to help my men. There’d better be a point to you delaying me.”

“Just this. You alone, you, not the grand architecture or ancient history or scientific reason your culture created, just you. You’re making me wonder if this empire should be allowed to continue,” Nege said in a hushed voice.

Even though he knew there was no way she could, Nege feared what would happen if Sono heard him say this.

The emperor grabbed the last part of his imperial armor, a steel helmet rimmed with gold, and place it on his head. “For me, that’s never been a question,” he said. The emperor turned toward the Prophet and grabbed him by the shoulders, nearly snarling in his face. “Will you help me then?”

Nege stepped back, almost afraid of the emperor’s quenched rage. “I can’t,” he said.

The emperor nodded. “Then Infinity help us.” Ignoring the foolishness of royalty being seen running, Eternine sped to the courtyard where his horse stood to take him to his waiting, only legion.

Nege truly hoped that the emperor’s prayers would be answered, even though he knew they would not.