The rain had long since stopped its downfall over Damocles and Emperor Mordred sat in his room exhausted, head in his right hand, the Imperial Crown sat upon the floor at his feet. He stared at this crown with red, tired eyes. His first day as Emperor of the World had been much more taxing than he'd expected.
In his mind, when he imagined himself sitting upon the throne as a boy, he had imagined that it would all come so easily to him as it had seemed to come easily to his father. He imagined himself – at the time very much still how he appeared as a boy but in a larger body – sitting upon the throne of his father, now his throne, dictating orders, passing laws, settling disputes that required his attention. He imagined he would plan military parades and spread joy to his people. He liked to think of all of the colors, of the banners and the flower petals that would befall the streets of Damocles. Emperor Mordred sat now in the harsh reality of what being Emperor meant.
After his speech had been given and his vows proclaimed he had stepped down from the throne. As he strode forward the Knights who had remained loyal to him all stood and parted ways. Emperor Mordred had taken the chance to look at Knight Gawain who had smiled at him, mouthing or perhaps speaking, it was unclear over the roar of the room, the words "Your majesty." He stepped forward with the grace and charisma that came from years of being a Prince and now the one and only Sovereign of the world. The first to meet him were the nobility; those of high stature who lived within Damocles itself or, lacking this prestige, lived in one of the many provinces of the Empire. There were many of them, as was to be expected, and Emperor Mordred soon found himself shaking hands, smiling, and greeting many of them. Most who stepped forward to meet him were men, all in perfectly fine dress yet of a noticeably lower quality than what the Emperor himself was wearing, though some noble ladies stepped forward themselves. They each bowed their heads and waited for Emperor Mordred to wave his hand upwards before standing up straight again. How he had enjoyed that! That simple gesture of power and authority! As a Prince he had wielded much the same power and yet now, with the weight of the crown upon his head, it felt like an entirely new action.
As he worked his way from nobleman and noblewoman to the next a pattern began to show itself. There was true joy radiating off of every part of Emperor Mordred's being as he went from person to person, making small talk to those who were but a few steps below him in power and influence. Yet from them he felt almost nothing. After a while their actions began to feel hollow, their smiles insincere, their actions mere courtesies rather than genuine gestures of respect. He hadn't the time to dwell on it all of those hours ago but as he sat now alone in his room he recognized it for what it was: an act, a formality that was neither truly felt nor wanted to be performed.
Yet at the time he had suspected nothing. He did not get the chance to shake the hand of each and every noble ningen that he came across but he felt certain that he must have gotten to most of them. As the newly instated Emperor stepped forward past the line of nobility, with an entourage of Knights following in his stead, some of the soldiers who encircled the room stepped forward and made their way as gently as a soldier could through the crowd, making their way towards their Emperor and making sure that no one touched him without his direct consent. Seeing these brave and loyal men coming, Emperor Mordred had lifted his hands and gently waved them aside as to silently ask them to stop their advance. For even then, several minutes after his coronation had ended, the crowds still cheered! They obeyed if not a bit reluctantly. They stayed a few paces back away from the Emperor himself and mingled in the crowd, ready to part the common folk if need be, to intervene.
No such need arose however. As Emperor Mordred stepped forward into the crowd they parted for him like a great and excited ocean. All were eager to be near him, yes, but none dared touch their new Emperor even if they so desired to. As their Prince, he had made it his duty to help them rebuild their lives and for this they had tremendous respect for him. Some of the paupers threw flower petals in his wake, others held out their arms as if to touch him but pulled back at the last second. Most simply cheered and were as joyous as he felt. These were people of genuine happiness at the sight of their new Emperor! They had no other motivation beyond jubilation. They helped to calm the slight unease that Emperor Mordred had felt while interacting with the nobility before them.
The common folk by far took the longest to get through. He had opened the halls, as many of them as he feasibly could for this occasion anyways, so that the citizens of Damocles and beyond could enter and indeed many had come from all over the Empire to be there! They formed a seemingly endless throng as though they were excited children who were overjoyed to see their father come home. Wading through them took time but, with the help of the soldiers and even the Knights who would occasionally step forward and hoist their capes up with an arm to put a barrier between the crowd and the Emperor they made it through to the gathered crowd of animunculi ambassadors who had come to witness this day. They stood as an island against the sea of ningen around them, as solid as stone and as implacable as as the weather. They stood with eyes glowing a soft blue light and, as Emperor Mordred approached, all bowed forward in unison with their metallic hands resting atop their waists.
Together they stood up straight and faced the newly crowned Emperor of the world. Emperor Mordred had always found the animunculi of Golem's Isle to be at once unsettling and perplexing. As his father had explained it to him they were like dolls, toys with wills and souls of their own who inhabited a single island south of the mainland on which Damocles sat. The Late Emperor Gawain had told him and his brothers that the animunculi were citizens of the Empire by proxy – which was fitting given their nature. They recognized the sovereignty of The Empire and did not challenge it, far from it. The animunculi of Golem's Isle served many purposes that were indispensable. In the long years since the Empire's founding, many animunculi had been commissioned, made, and shipped all over The Empire. They served as builders, tools, assistants, workers, mentors and a seemingly endless well of knowledge. All the same they chose to remain mostly neutral and outcast from the rest of the world. Rarely were ningen-like animunculi such as the ones who stood in the throne room today seen on the mainland or indeed anywhere. Many of the commoners were torn between looking upon their new Emperor or looking upon these strange creatures that stood among them. Doubtless, many of them had never seen such animunculi before. Emperor Mordred would not have been surprised if they believed that they had been made for this ceremony specifically.
"Your Majesty, Emperor Mordred the First," the front-most animunculi articulated in its' tinny voice, bowing its head once more before continuing. "The animunculi of Golem's Isle are most honored to be here to chronicle this historic event! Tell me, what is it like to be king of the world now?"
This question made Emperor Mordred smile. As far as he was aware, this was the closest thing that an animunculi could come to telling a joke. It helped to settle his unease. Looking up at these metal giants had always given him a sense of inferiority and dread. For indeed most of the animunculi there stood at around seven feet tall or more! Wearing the crown that had been his father's but was now his did little to calm the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of what these metallic ningen could do to him or anyone else if it wanted to. He felt this way despite the knowledge that, unless specifically designed for warfare or any sort, animunculi were pacifistic by their very nature.
"I am unsure as of yet! I have only sat upon the throne once. I do not think that it has truly settled in just yet!" Emperor Mordred called out, having to raise his voice over the still cheering crowd. He thought now, sitting in his room, tired, how convenient it must be to not have any vocal chords to strain in order to speak. His throat felt parched and sore from having to speak up so often and so loudly.
"Of course. An adjustment period is simply natural. You will feel the weight of your role in time," the animunculi spoke with a bluntness that was to be expected from an artificial being. "If your majesty would not mind stepping forward a moment, however, we would like to have a few short words with you. We wish not to take any significant amount of time from your coronation, however, this is an urgent matter," the animunculi said, taking a step to the side and gesturing with it's tube-covered arm towards a rapidly forming circle of animunculi as they pushed back, gently, against the crowd around them. Emperor Mordred hesitated for a moment before looking back at his Knights and, in particular, at Knight Gawain who gave him an encouraging nod though there was a seriousness in his eyes. The newly crowned Emperor turned and stepped forward into the circle of animunculi and quickly found himself walled off to all others as the initiator of their conversation replaced himself back in line.
"What is it that the Emperor of the World can hear you out on?" Mordred asked.
"Our concern is with your brothers, your majesty," one of the other animunculi said.
"We do not want to seem indelicate on the matter," said another of the ambassadors.
"Yet we must be clear in our position," stated another.
"We animunculi of Golem's Isle shall not help you to retake your brethren," said the first quite bluntly.
"And how exactly will you not be helping..?" Emperor Mordred asked, turning his head from one set of glowing blue eyes to the next in order to keep track of the conversation. His father had always said that one should maintain eye contact while conversing, even if it's with anumunculi.
"Supplying arms," one said.
"Supplying machina of warfare," said another.
"Supplying any advantage of any kind," said a third.
"Shall not be allowed," they all said as one.
"I don't understand," Emperor Mordred said, the smile having fallen from his face.
"It is quite simple you see, your majesty," the initial ambassador said. "As we see it, your brothers are not finished with their war. It has only just begun. As such, we maintain our right to remain neutral in this matter. We will not help you, nor First Prince Ganymede, nor Third Prince Bayamon in gaining an edge over either sibling. It simply is against our principles."
"But do not misunderstand," spoke another in the roughly same tinny voice as the ones before, a characteristic that all animunculi with the capacity to speak shared.
"We will be most happy and gracious to continue to help you in rebuilding Damocles, in the propagation of your empire, as we have done since time immemorial."
"But in any circumstance involving warfare -"
"We must remain neutral," they all said as one.
"This does not feel like appropriate news to be sharing on the day of my coronation," Emperor Mordred said gravely.
"On the contrary," spoke the first animunculi. "You are the Emperor of the World now. The responsibilities of the empire, of its relations with the other peoples of the world, and any affairs of war are now yours. We simply wish to make our stance on this imminent matter clear from the onset yet understand if you require more time to process this or require more of a discussion. Therefore, later, once the festivities have ended, I will remain here in order to speak with you further. The dragon never dies!" it said before all of the animunculi bowed as one and parted in order to let Emperor Mordred back out into the throng.
The Emperor stepped forward with a look upon his face quite shaken. Before anyone had a good chance to see this expression, though, Knight Gawain stepped forward and stood before his Emperor. "Your majesty," he called out over the roar of the crowd. "Do not look so glum! This is a day of celebration in your name. Do not let your people see you so troubled. Leave the politics for later. For now, revel in the glory!"
"Yes," Emperor Mordred said, his smile returning by force to his lips, "you are right. Come, Gawain, let us carry on."
So they did carry on, passing through the crowd of people much as they had been before with the Knights keeping a vigil and shielding the emperor from those who might find themselves too zealous. Though a smile remained on the emperor's lips the words of the animunculi troubled him greatly. He found himself looking around for the small group of ambassadors only to find that most of them were making their way out of the hall, their purpose fulfilled. The one remained and made its way slowly, so as not to barrel through the mob of celebrating people, towards the door through which Mordred had entered as a prince; doubtless to find sanctuary in a more empty part of the imperial palace. The newly ordained emperor tried to keep his mind off of what had been said to him and yet he found the task difficult and his head felt heavy.
Eventually he was escorted to the back of the room where the Nobles of the Bloodlings stood. These unnerved Mordred in a way that the animunculi never could. For while he might let his imagination get the better of him at the capabilities of such metallic giants, the Bloodlings were a much more uncanny lot. Despite their extremely close appearance to ningen they were anything but. The only way to tell them apart would be to get them to smile with their teeth and reveal their fangs. None the less they were subjects of the Empire and deserved the same courtesies as all others. As Emperor Mordred approached the Bloodlings crowded together and clapped their hands. They smiled and their smiles seemed genuine.
"Wonderful weather for a coronation of a new Emperor of the World!" one of the Bloodlings spoke, a fair and beautiful woman with long, spiraling chestnut hair that swooped over her left shoulder. She wore a dress of a bright lime green and jewels of a dark forest hue upon her wrists and neck.
"I had hoped that it would be sunny if I am to tell the truth," Emperor Mordred said, sparing a glance towards the not so distance doors that would lead out from the throne room and into the outer palace.
"Nonsense! For us Bloodlings, this weather is perfect save for the rain. No irritation for our skin! We can enjoy the celebration to our hearts' content! And, my, what a feast you have presented for us!" she said, standing up on her toes and doing her best to exaggerate a cursory glance around the room – specifically at the ningen who surrounded her. "How very gracious and understanding of his majesty!"
"Oh, stop it, you!" another Bloodling spoke out, a middle aged man in an adornment of crisp white and cool, sharp blue. His tunic was laced with decoration and fitted perfectly to show off the man's wide chest. He stepped forward and bowed his head lightly to the Sovereign before him. "Forgive her, your grace, she merely jests! We would not think of disrupting your day with such a... well, barbaric notion!" He smiled and she smiled and Emperor Mordred could see the tips of their upper four fangs poking out from underneath their lips. His stomach churned lightly at the thought of these dignitaries turning upon his own people!
"No, of course not. I was aware that she merely joked," Emperor Mordred replied keeping his smile up.
"About the feast, yes," replied the Bloodling in green. "But I was deathly serious about the weather. It is most fortuitous for me and my lot to be able to mingle beneath the shade without the glare of the sun to keep us under cover. It may seem drab to you, your majesty, but truly this is a blessed day! Do not let the rain spoil this event. Remember it well, and remember it often! We are pleased to be here and to be a part of this, your empire!"
"I thank you," Emperor Mordred said, extending his hand to shake. The Bloodling in green fawned and reached out her hand to delicately place it within the emperor's. The Bloodling in white and blue firmly grasped the emperor's hand in his gloved one and smiled broadly. So it went as he went from one Bloodling Noble to the next, shaking hands, making light conversation, going through the motions of polite interactions. To the Bloodlings, perhaps most of all, this was a party, an occasion for celebration. They had not the worries that the emperor nor the animunculi had about any future conflicts over the fate of the crown and thus the empire as a whole. They had little to no stakes in it after all. It was established long ago that the ningen and Bloodling empires would merge as one, formally creating The Empire as it now was today. The relationship was tenuous, though, for quite a long time. Bloodlings fed upon ningen for sustenance – rarely to the point of dying, but all the same. The two races had historically struggled to get along with each other.
Bloodlings existed in a shadow society – one that mirrored that of ningen. They were the underground, the shadowy folk, much of what went bump in the night. It had been very difficult for Modred's ancestors to come to terms with the nobility of Bloodlings, yet terms had been made. Even now, though, nearly four centuries after the peace negotiations had ceased there was tension. Emperor Mordred might have been the Sovereign Lord of each and every Bloodling he shook hands with but he did not hold sway on their governing bodies. Indeed he knew little about the politics of the Bloodling underworld. They handled their own affairs and made certain that they did not see the light of day so as to keep balance with the so-called 'surface empire' of ningen. They were a mysterious and closed off people who were rarely seen during the day.
So it went that Emperor Mordred shook hands with every Bloodling Nobel who was present and smiled at compliments and returned them in kind. The talk was small yet it needed to be just that in order to get from one delegate to the next. All the while his Knights followed his every step and made sure that the passing was made as easy as possible. Once the Emperor had shared his time with them the Bloodlings, most of them anyway, turned to leave the hall. Without needing to say Mordred knew that they were retreating somewhere that they could wait the rest of the day out. Despite the rain the morning sun was still looming just beyond the clouds and the festivities would go on well into the night. They could afford to wait for the cover of darkness and the illumination of moonlight to mingle with their fellow subjects.
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Not the Emperor though. After the Bloodlings it was back to being almost touched and fawned over by the ningen who made up the vast majority of his guests that day. He had to admit that it was refreshing to be around people who he felt he knew much more intimately than the Bloodlings. Despite their manners and fanciful talk Emperor Mordred felt that they shared a similar sort of hollowness than the nobility of his own court had, though the nature of it was different somehow. He did his best not to dwell on it as he parted the crowd of people who cheered and cried for him, making his way towards the entrance to the hall that lead outside.
As he approached the doors a pair of soldiers moved through the crowd in order to step in front of the tall doors. They stood facing forward in perfect unison, not looking directly at their liege, and reached out with opposite arms as he approached placing them against the door. Mordred stood before the doors for a moment and knew exactly what was behind them. How many times had he stepped past the heavy wooden doors and onto the stone landing that was sheltered by the short stone roof which hung out over it supported by eight columns, four to each side? How many times had he walked or strode or ran, skipped, was carried down or simply sat upon the thirty-two steps which lead down to the courtyard proper? How many days had he gone by passing through the barrier that he was about to pass through now and never once, in his entire life, imagined what it would be like to do so as Emperor?
Emperor Mordred took in a breath and held it, nodding to the soldiers, before letting it out slowly. They pushed the doors back in unison and the sound of the rain falling onto the ground outside collided with the sound of clapping from the room behind him. Dull gray sunlight and the smell of petrichor washed over the Emperor and was all overcome by the uproar of even more people outside! The citizens of Damocles were thronged in the courtyard, crowding up as far as ten steps away from where their new Emperor now stood, standing in the pouring rain and cheering upon seeing their new sovereign! The sound of the crowd was as nothing that Mordred had ever experienced for himself before. The seemingly deafening cheers and claps of all those who had been in the room where he had been crowned were as the sound of a pin compared to the tremendous drum that was the people before him!
Emperor Mordred smiled and looked out at his people. There must have been thousands of them, at the very least the citizenry of Damocles if not more who had come from far and wide for him and for this day, to be a part, however small, of history in the making. A weightlessness overcame him as if the ear-ringing crescendo were lifting him up! He stepped forward outside and the loyal Knights followed him. He stopped just short of where the rain was falling and the eleven Knights spread out on either side of him with Knight Gawain standing at his back. With excitement and glee the emperor raised his hands above his head and saluted them all! Never before had he felt such a feeling of accomplishment!
Yet now, hours later, after all the smiling and the cheering, the pleasant talks and the foreboding feelings, he was left alone to himself by his own request. Knight Gawain had lead him to his quarters and assured him that he was to take as much time as he liked before emerging again. "No one holds dominion over you in the slightest anymore," he had said. "I will be waiting for you and your council, as will the rest of your subjects. If you should decide you do not wish to hold it, simply tell one of the guards outside of your door and they will relay the message to us." With that he had left, closing the door quietly and leaving the newly crowned emperor to his thoughts. Most of all he simply felt tired.
He stared down at the crown at his feet, a crown that had always been his fathers' in his eyes and he simply couldn't quite understand that it was now his. The concept of ownership was not foreign to him, he knew what an inheritance was. Yet this crown and all that it signified did not feel as if it belonged to him. The world, he felt, did not belong to him as it should have. The emperor let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He felt so very tired from seeing all of those people who cheered him on and loved him. He felt that he was exhausted and did not want to do another thing that entire day. Yet...
***
Emperor Mordred opened up the doors to the council room, drawing the attention of all who were inside. The room itself, which was positioned behind the throne room where he had been crowned emperor and on the opposite side of the spiral stairs, was a long, tall room. The windows were high up and let in little light on rainy days such as this. Candles were lit and sitting within sconces upon the walls as well as on the large table. The table was round and slightly oblong with a carved and painted detailed map of the entire world upon it, the planet which the newly crowded emperor ruled. Around the table were many ningen who had held council with his father on many occasions – occasions that he had rarely been allowed to sit on. Knight Gawain was there among them, still dressed in his ceremonial garbs and standing next to an empty chair. Also present was the animunculi who had said he would meet with the emperor later. The tall metal man stood off away from the table and it's blue eyes fell upon Mordred as he pushed the doors open himself.
Mordred was wearing only that which he needed to wear to remain decent. Anything unnecessary had been stripped before coming to this meeting. The only accessory was the crown which sat upon his golden head. He strode into the room with a certainty that one would have been forgiven in thinking had come from a lifetime of ruling. Those who were there and not already standing stood up as he approached. Mordred waved his hand and the doors behind him were pulled closed, the large wooden frames creaking as the heavy wings were drawn shut, the gasp of the latch sending a faint wave of air through the room that jostled air, flame and banner alike.
"My Emperor, we wish to thank you for attending this very important meeting," spoke a man who Mordred looked at as he spoke and yet could not for the life of him recall his name despite having heard it and even memorized it many times. He knew that it was likely just the stress and exhaustion of the day getting to him for he knew the names of every ningen in that room even if he could not recall them. He did not reply as he made his way around the table and towards the ornate wooden throne that sat at what was considered the head of the table, near the eastern border of the mainland continent.
"We understand that this has been a trying day for you and, well, a rewarding one as well! To be named Emperor of the World, well, that's...!" the man laughed jovially, seemingly unable to find the words to fully express what he was saying yet they all knew what he meant. Another man spoke up.
"Despite that, there are matters which need attended to urgently. As sovereign these matters fall to you to tend to. I do not mean to be crude, but-"
"Yes, we are at war. I know. Sit," Mordred commanded, the words coming naturally to him as he himself took a seat and all present followed suit; save for the animunculi who continued to stand at a distance. "These matters concern our allies on Golem's Isle as well. Will you not join us?" Mordred asked as he looked towards the metallic representative.
"I will do so in spirit, but I fear that my metal frame might not fit so well in so small a chair," the animunculi spoke, stepping forward out from the light of a candle and towards the table itself though it chose to stand two paces away. This was enough for Mordred who turned back to the men whose names he could not quite recall before him. "When you're ready then," he said, lightly waving his hand and sitting back in his seat.
"As your majesty commands," and older man spoke. The man, Mordred knew, had been a very close friend of his father and had been on the council for many years. His word and advice were highly respected. He was a bald man with white hair and beard, what remained of his hair circling around the sides and back of his head and falling like fog around his shoulders. His wrinkles were many yet the dark brown eyes in his head were young and diligent. "It is as you said, we are at war. Your brothers pose an unprecedented threat to the line of succession and the Empire as a whole! We have remained idle in these matters long enough I believe. Rebuilding Damocles is all well and good, and positioning battalions of soldiers at strategic points around the city is very wise, but I feel that we are simply waiting for Ganymede and Bayamon to strike first!"
"What is more," said another man, younger, with long, thin black hair and a face just as slim with narrow, bright eyes. "Wars are not cheap. We will have to figure out a way to fund the military and prepare for what is to come. More than that, we will have to find a way to do so without losing the public's favor. Coronation ceremonies are a nice distraction, but I dare say that the citizenry will not look kindly upon a new Emperor who increases taxation for the sake of fighting his own flesh and blood," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows upon the table. His words made it exceedingly clear that this meeting was not to be taken lightly.
"Yes, yes, quite right," said a portly man who Mordred knew to be in charge of keeping track of the Empire's treasury. He knew exactly how many coins came in and out of the vaults in Damocles at any given time or any other vault which was under the direct control of the Emperor. His clothes said as much being made of the finest garments and most dazzling embroidery of anyone there, including Mordred.
"While we are on the matter of war and its' costs, might I inquire as to if I heard correctly?" said another younger man who could not have been a decade older than Mordred himself. His hair was short and the color of honey, his face square and soft looking but his eyes focused and sharp. "Is it true that in this matter, our allies the animunculi are not to be supporting us? I was told as such by a trusted friend earlier today during the coronation, who over heard just such a notion!"
At this many of the men began to speak at once, mumbling or talking in harsh, worried tones. They looked to their metal guest and back to themselves. Confusion and worry spread from man to man. All the while the animunculi stood and remained silent up until Emperor Mordred raised his hand. "Enough!" he called out, calling for silence which came gradually. "I was told that the ambassador would explain himself further here in this meeting. We owe our ally the animunculi the chance to divulge these details."
There came some small grumbles from some of the more outspoken members of the council but little else as the animunculi ambassador raised its' left arm and placed its' hand over its' chest. "If the Emperor would be so kind as to allow me to speak?" it asked, looking towards the newly crowned emperor who nodded his head. The blue eyes automaton turned and looked back on the room at large.
"What was said to Emperor Mordred before was no lie. We do not intend to intervene in any way in this conflict. Do not misunderstand!" The ambassador held up both of its' hands in front of itself defensively. "We do not wish to end our long standing alliance whatsoever. Ambassadors have been sent to seek out Princes Ganymede and Bayamon as well with the implicit job of giving them the exact same news that I am now delivering to you. It is as you said earlier – this is a civil war. One which will dictate the line of succession and, further more, the future of the Empire. Because of this, we animunculi of Golem's Isle have evoked our right to remain neutral on such matters, so as to retain our alliance no matter the course history takes."
There came a clamor at this declaration that had been slowly building up since around the beginning of it being said. Men stood up from their chairs and spoke sternly to the anuminculi ambassador who simply stood and weathered the flurry of voices that might as well have been tongues. They spoke about Emperor Mordred's rightful claim to the throne, of the ceremony which had taken place only hours before. They decreed that the Emperor's brothers were unfit to ever have a claim on the throne again! Words were thrown back and forth, some calling for calmer words others demanding an answer and a declaration of fealty. Only the ambassador, the emperor and his Knight were silent. Finally when there had been enough noise Gawain stood up from his chair and drew his sword from its' sheath. He grabbed a hold of the blade and swung the guard down onto the table, the loud knocking cutting through the chatter and the noise. "Peace!" he called out. "Peace! Let the ambassador speak!"
Gradually as Knight Gawain hammered on the table the voices quieted down. Many who had chosen to stand up remained standing though some did retake their seats. All looked towards the tall metal man who stood among them as a supposed ally and a foreigner at once. When all was quiet it continued.
"We of Golem's Isle see it thus: The brothers Ganymede, Mordred and Bayamon all have an equal claim to the throne. They are all of their fathers' blood and at the end of all things, should none of them sire an heir and should only one remain standing; he, and no one else, will sit upon the throne. It is to he that we must give our loyalties, for this is how we will preserve peace between ningen and animunculi. If we were to support one brother or another, or all for that matter, then it would leave us in an unfortunate position. One that, no matter who rests upon the throne, would put us in a spot of mistrust and unease. Therefore, we cannot side with anyone and must remain neutral."
"You speak out of turn! Before the emperor who you have just sworn fealty to!" a large man wearing warm reds and oranges bellowed, his brow furrowed and his gaze boring into the metallic dignitary. Knight Gawain would not see the start of more bickering and quickly interjected.
"Do not be such a fool! Actually listen to what is being said rather than jumping to conclusions! Ambassador," he said, his tone lowered now that he was speaking to one who he felt was not out of line. "The aniumculi, back on Golem's Isle. They can see and hear all of this I assume, yes?"
"You assume correctly. Those who have the capacity to weigh in on this decision are all watching and feeding me information as we speak. It is for them that I speak directly in real time. They hear your concerns and are resolute in their decision."
"But without the support of the animunculi..." the warm dressed man said, a hint of despair creeping upwards in his voice as he sank back down into his seat. "We will be at a dangerous disadvantage... Prince Bayamon and Ganymede are somewhere out in the world doing who knows what and we will not even have the capacity to know before it is too late!"
"Do not be so dramatic and presume us to be so helpless without our allies!" Knight Gawain said harshly, directing the pommel of his blade at the councilman who spoke. "You forget much as you are not a man of war. Allow me to set your mind at ease. Even without the animunculi we are still in alliance with the Bloodlings. Their vast underground grapevines will be of much use to us in the days to come. We need not animunculi spies and thopters to find out where Princes Bayamon and Ganymede are or what they're doing! We do not require their great war machines to win this civil war! The animunculi do not speak of betrayal but of true loyalty, as do I! Listen to what he's saying – really, actually listen! Our animunculi brethren are not loyal to a man or to a cause but to the throne itself! They helped to make this world what it is today and have remained steadfast in maintaining it since long before any of us were ever born! Do you not think that they would remain committed to that cause?" asked the First Knight as he replaced his blade back into his sheath, its' purpose fulfilled.
One of the councilmen scoffed, a middle aged man of brown hair wearing blues and purples. "If the Bloodlings are to be such a help, why are none of them here now?" he asked with cynicism in his voice. Mordred knew that this man, like himself, had long expressed unease about the Bloodlings so it was no surprise that he called them into question now.
"Because our emperor did not see it fit to ask one of them to be here," Knight Gawain said simply, retaking his seat next to Mordred. "Wars are not won over night, gentlemen. It will take time on all sides to prepare and we need not rush from one ally to the next in search of support lest we seem as weak children before a bully."
Men were beginning to take their seats all over now, much quieter than they had been but moments before. Whether they liked it or not was now irrelevant, they all understood in one way or the other that the animunculi ambassador was there to reaffirm its and all others like its' loyalty to the empire itself, regardless of who wore the crown. Some were not so eased by this news as others but all were accepting of it.
"The Lord Knight speaks wisely, as usual," the animunculi said, bowing its head. "He sums up our position nicely. To maintain loyalty to the throne, we must choose inaction in this time of unrest. As was said to the newly crowned emperor before, any matters involving the rebuilding of Damocles will not be withdrawn. What's more, any animunculi who are already in service to the Empire will remain as such. We will not be withdrawing from the Empire as a whole. We will simply not play a part in military matters on any side."
"His majesty has been very quiet since this meeting began," observed the man in blue and purple. "What say he about this so called loyalty?"
To this all turned to look at Emperor Mordred who had in fact been keeping to himself on purpose. When he was much younger and his father would invite him to similar, although never quite this serious, meetings he had developed a habit of sitting quietly, watching, and listening very carefully; a habit that he carried with him now. He looked from one man to the next, to Knight Gawain who sat with a patient look and finally to the animunculi ambassador who stood nearby; his primary purpose for being there over while he remaining purpose was to witness his actions as Emperor and deliver in real time what he intended to do to those watching in the far south. Slowly he sat up straight in his chair before standing and crossing his arms behind his back.
"Ningen of the council. I respect your concerns and share them as my own. I respect the stance that the animunculi have chosen to taken upon the urgent matter at hand. I respect the feelings and experience of Knight Gawain who clearly has experience in such matters in ways that I simply do not. He, as well as all of the other Knights, are invaluable to the days that are to come. Make no mistake; I do not intend to abdicate the throne to either my brother Bayamon or Ganymede!"
The Emperor uncrossed his arms and placed the tips of his fingers on the table before him, looking at the map that represented all that he held within his power as rightful and lawful ruler of the world as he continued to speak. "The animunculi are not the deciding factor in this war. True they would be of great help in quelling the rebellions my brothers wage but we are far from defenseless without them. Discounting the forces that both of my brothers left with we still command eleven legions, each one outfitted with twenty thousand soldiers give or take what was stolen from us. We have the Psychopomps at our disposal to back up those legions. We have the arms and armories and blacksmiths and food and funds that neither of my brothers possess! And we have the Knights of the Empire to lead them all into battle. More than this we have the Bloodlings to work as spies for us and bolster our legions if necessary, we have the people of Mirage working night and day for the Empire to discover new sciences and more! So much more!
"Ningen of the council," Emperor Mordred said, lifting his head up and looking at everyone present with a wide, sweeping gaze. "If you have any doubts as to who will win this war then let me be the first to assure you of this: Our numbers are greater. Our resources, greater. Our armies greater. Our resolve greater! This petty squabble between siblings will not last long and will serve as a cozy reminder for the histories to be written that what this empire is, what it stands for, and what it protects is made so by the living will of dragons who dwell within each and every citizen of this world! Anyone who would try to stand against such creatures as us shall know the folly of facing the dragons' tooth, claw and fire! We will win this war and when it is done I will continue the work my father started and make this empire greater than it has ever been before! I swear this as the ninety-ninth emperor, your Sovereign and your Lord: The dragon never dies!"
There were cheers had by some. Others sat in somber silence. Most were reassured by what Emperor Mordred had said but others had doubts; not the least of which was the emperor himself whose heart was beating furiously in his chest. He stood up straight and looked to his First Knight for reassurance. Knight Gawain smiled and bowed his head in a gesture of subservience and respect. Mordred took comfort in this nod and looked back at the world on the table. Somewhere on that map were his brothers, hiding from him, planning, growing stronger by the day. He believed in every word that he said. Wars were not won in a matter of days. They took time, planning and careful maneuvering. This would not be the last meeting that he had like this, it was merely the first. The days to come were to be long, dark, troubling and devastating, yet he had full conviction in his cause and confidence in his beliefs. He was the Emperor of the World, and no one would take that away from him now.