Stepping through the parted stream of liquid in the king’s makeshift war chamber, Elinor went to the balcony to join the grand duke and her father. King Virelli floated next to her to stare across the vast stadium, packed to the brim with what she would guess was close to a hundred thousand citizens.
The private boxes hosting nobility and important figures in the market or foreign dignitaries waited for the show to begin. This would be a spectacular stage to test how far she could push this System’s EXP rates in regard to non-combat methods. She was a Lich Empress, and an empress thrived on the support of the masses.
Dampened rumbles came from beyond the phenomenal rain dome above, blanketing the coliseum in dazzling lights. At the center of the dry stage was a choir and orchestra, playing an epic melody to set the mood for the House Selection Ceremony, their voices projected on the wind through the grand duke’s manipulations.
Elinor suppressed a shiver as excitement welled up within her breast; the ball was in her court as to how she wanted to introduce herself. She’d received a rundown of the event schedule, and there was one act that was perfect for her to follow.
Resting her back against one of the pillars between the railing, Elinor maintained a cool smile while observing the inspiring orchestra and choir express their hearts. This nation was just on the cusp of change, and it benefited her to be that spark.
A slight upward twist came to her lips as a large, black-feathered bird soared down from the top of the stadium to land near her hand; Tiffany had been quite busy these last few days in her spare time preparing for this plan as they’d worked on it.
“Ravens?” Virelli asked, spotting dozens more swooping down to the railings of the private boxes. “It’s very rare to see them in our part of the continent… Your work, Empress?”
Elinor placed one hand on her collarbone, over her tattoo of the intelligent creatures, as her other reached out to scratch the bird’s neck; tied around its foot was a neat piece of paper while a shiny jewel was attached to its neck.
“Indeed, it is. Grand Duke Christarion, I would like to introduce myself after the Great Houses’ showy entrance. Will you be ready on your end, King Virelli?”
The ruler breathed out a long stream of air while giving his friend a meaningful look. “This is a risk I am willing to take for her return… and not just for my or my son’s sake. If you do not succeed in convincing my people of your good intent or manage to garner some support from the other factions, then there will only be one ending that will satisfy… I have put my faith in your performance.”
Elinor returned her hands to her front while watching the king’s fluttering cape leave his chambers to speak to his Paladins outside. “One way or another… this Entrance Ceremony will be one to be remembered for millennia.”
Her focus flicked to the tall, powerful Tempest, the man’s striking eyes fixating on her. “Is the risk of turning the whole of the Kaspir Kingdom… potentially your own life worth inserting your princess into my curriculum?”
Using one hand to hoist herself onto the railing, she leaned against the pillar with a secretive smile before turning her gaze to the stadium, filled with potential believers. Sure, they may not be her citizens, but if she could ally herself with the Kaspir Kingdom and form her first true friendship between nations, then she was positive it would unlock something grand.
“Fortune favors the bold… And I would say that you are someone who is worth guiding Princess Castria into the destiny she is to fulfill.”
She turned her emerald eyes skyward, where the Grand Duke effortlessly held back the storm, bathing the awe-struck people in a rainbow brilliance that he then could focus onto a singular point. Sure, the Delva Empire would likely have powerful Tempest themselves, yet there was merit in a school environment like this that Castria could grow socially from and learn the ins and outs of royalty. She was satisfied with the Kaspir Kingdom, or what it could become.
“…We shall see.”
Elinor caught a look from her father that made her sigh inside; everything depended on her acting skills and ability to improv when opposition arose. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust her; he just hated not being able to do more to support her, which was sweet and just like her overprotective father, afraid the world might swallow her whole.
Palms folding in her lap, she allowed the raven to hop up to her shoulder, no doubt Tiffany acting through the bird as it fussed with her hair. Her focus drifted between four of the openings on ground level, with the music increasing in tempo, and a lower noble woman took center stage to hum along with the swaying instruments.
Every citizen held their breath as the applicants from each house exited, a core group of the Tempest swiftly taking the spotlight, wind magic carrying them into the sky.
Her smile softened when she spotted the prince with his sister, spinning her in a circle in their sibling dance, the young man synchronizing elegant blue flames with his sister’s red. Tiffany’s chortles came through the Nexus, expressing little details she picked up or comments Queen Alivau made.
“How sweet! My, Prince Drew is such an incredible brother for how much hate his stepmother displays toward him. According to her, this is all for his reputation and need to be in the spotlight, stealing it out from under her daughter in the guise of supporting her. He shouldn’t even be in this dance, as only the high nobility House applicants are supposed to be involved. Oh! Oh! There’s our princess!”
The Witch’s excitement bubbled over as another set of unique flames joined the concert; Elinor caught a curious smile from the Grand Duke and saw people pointing out the mixed yellow and green flames that came from Castria that joined Marquess Julian Delenear’s red. “You’re stealing the show, Firecracker! It is so interesting how Tempest can change the wavelengths of their flames based on heat.”
“Don’t distract her,” Edmon chided, yet Elinor saw a fatherly pride in her father’s face that warmed her undead heart; he always had a soft spot for girls, most likely due to him thinking about her when spotting them. “Well done.”
Spying on their Monarch of Storms, Elinor felt her intense concentration at trying to keep the wavelength of her dualistic flame; it was actually easier to manage between the two colors rather than going full green, which was a far hotter color for Tempest to reach.
Logan folded his arms atop the railing, observing the several dancing nobles and their colors as Heather’s red fire intensified to match Castria’s green and yellow; it flickered back to red for a second before returning. The other nobles soon flared yellow, seemingly struggling to maintain that level at 17 years old.
“Hmm. I will say that Princess Castria has great talent, but I cannot speak to her training before this,” the man complimented.
Chuckling softly, Elinor scratched her raven’s neck as it hopped down to the railing. “I’m sure the others will be diminishing Castria’s achievements with the expectation that it goes without saying she excels since she is tied to me… the same reason for others looking down on Princess Heather. It is something she will need to learn to expect.”
The dancing Tempest floated into the line of their fellow nobles, fire dispersing as they took the head of each column on the four sides of the stadium; the music gradually died, and then it picked up again, now rising into the air on the primary female vocalist’s wind manipulations. The song faded with the band as they rose into the sparkling dome-like veil shrouding the heavens, the drums mixing with the gentle roll of thunder until it was gone.
With that, Grand Duke Logan rose into the air and floated out to hover above the center of the stadium; the choir and orchestra picking up again, despite now being beyond the aquatic wall. It was a fantastic show with the flashes of lightning that pierced the bubble to arc over the audience, leaving rumbles that shook the stone Elinor sat on.
Fire circled the slow-moving electricity, wind funnels of water cycling out of the dome to loop and dance with the other elements as the grassy earth around the stage lifted to join the harmony. In a grand display of might, the dirt, stone, and grass shot back to the ground as the other elements rocketed into the sky to meet inside the rising bubble. It all condensed and exploded in a nova of light; once it cleared, the storm was no more, yet frosty flakes began to fall from the heavens.
Elinor suppressed a quake at the raw power and finesse the Grand Master Tempest displayed as her vision fell upon the perfectly smooth, grass-laid ground of the field; not a sound was uttered in the windless atmosphere, silently snow blanketing over the city from the now murky sky.
Yet, the show was far from over, and after several chilling seconds, the atmosphere heated rapidly, and a hearty laugh came from one of the three VIP boxes above the others. An eruption of red flames carried out a rugged, crimson-haired man: High Lord Debro Tarkov, Head of the Great House of Tarkov.
“Always impressive, Old Man, but are you trying to butter up to Yeven Tarnash or show off to the Raven Empress?” he asked, voice carried to all on the heated wind he generated, carrying the melting snow into the heavens. “I say, let there be chaos!”
A rush of cool air mixed from another box as the 46-year-old patriarch of Tarnash left his own personal box, creating a clash between the high and low pressure; dark clouds began to form above with the seawater and damp surroundings evaporated to be pulled into the condensing superstorm between the two forces.
“Is this really the side you want to display during this ceremony, High Lord Debro?”
Flashes of lightning passed within the opposing forces, Debro showing Yeven a tempting, toothy grin as the outline of two circling dragons came from inside the tight sphere they’d created. Elinor chuckled as the pair floated across from each other, the Grand Duke between them, and she wasn’t alone.
A third and final voice entered the stage, feminine and older. “It has been the same dull competition since you were both children. Let’s not go overboard, boys… as your fathers did.”
A dark-haired woman, reportedly in her early sixties, joined the three men, and a light blue aura embraced her before the bubble above popped; a rush of hurricane winds expelled outward, spreading the thunderous clouds in a rapid cyclone that was swiftly brought under control. And after a minute of leering at each other, the storm settled into a gentle downpour.
Clapping rang throughout the stadium as the dome of liquid reformed, pulling the hovering High Nobles’ gaze to her as she laughed, her words projected by the Grand Duke.
“A marvelous display of power and control, High Lady Julia Proltis, High Lord Debro, and High Lord Tarnash. Surely, your kingdom is protected by exceptional rulers. The Delva Empire is sure to see a reckoning for overstepping their border to attack those under your stewardship. It is an important display to show the future of this nation the shoes they are to fill.”
Debro put both hands on his hips with a laugh. “It pleases me to hear you enjoyed this opening event, Raven Empress! Perhaps you would do the honors of showing your own great power?”
“Do not grow arrogant to overstep your place,” Yeven coldly whispered, a frigid chill meeting the grinning fire-haired man’s fire.
“Or what?” he asked. “You’ll give me a cold?”
“Such inelegance,” Lady Julia sighed. “I apologize on their behalf, Your Imperial Majesty. I am aware that you have had quite the… unpleasant welcome into our kingdom.”
A sly twist came to Elinor’s lips as she shifted her weight to stand on the railing. “On the contrary, High Lady Julia, I quite enjoyed my welcome. In fact, why don’t I take this opportunity to introduce myself properly? I’m sure rumors have been rampant. Hehehe. You wouldn’t mind… would you, High Lords and High Lady? The Grand Duke has kindly offered me a place in this year’s events.”
“By all means!” Debro bellowed, eagerness in his voice as he flashed his teeth. “I’ve heard the most enthralling tales about your conquests and prowess. I had to see you for myself before going to the Delenear March to roast some Delva pigs on a spit and reclaim the territory! Haha. Why don’t you join me, Young Lord Julian?!” he roared, shooting to the ground like a meteorite to land in a blaze of heat in front of the golden-haired noble.
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Elinor could practically feel the pressure that hit Castria’s shoulders as the towering man loomed over both him and her, Debro’s superheated aura making several of the noble Tempest swiftly stumble back; well, everyone but his fire-haired daughter, grinning beside Princess Heather at her father’s aggressive attitude, the only other redhead in the lineup.
“The Delva scum took your father, but not before I heard he did a good number on one of their generals. Haha! I always like your old man—your mother, eeh, she was too much of a Delva bootlicker for my taste. But what do you say?! Care to light a fire under their asses with a legend?”
Grand Duke Logan flickered and was instantly between the young Tempests and giant of a man, a focused gust making the teens stumble back. “Leave war to the graduates, High Lord Debro. The students are in my care and not your army.”
“Hmm…” He locked gazes with the elder before a low chuckle shook his chest. “You really are a frightening relic, Old Man. I thought the boy would want a hand in reclaiming his inheritance… as-is how are his people going to respect him? I wouldn’t if someone else took the head of the person who killed my king or family.”
Elinor made swift contact with Castria. Push Julian to accept the offer and that you will join him.
Throat constricting acted on instinct, not liking the implications Debro was making, Castria snatched Julian’s hand and gave him a look; it was probably some signal they’d made when growing up because he seemed to understand what she wanted.
Julian’s nose flared, heat in his voice. “I would join you in a second if I were able, High Lord!”
Castria stepped forward. “Lord Julian’s father was very kind to me when I was inside his house; I wish to avenge him, as well!”
A grimace crossed the Grand Duke’s face as he turned to look at the two teens, yet Debro only laughed and turned to stare up at the king’s box. “Empress, I like the fire in your princess! But, haaa, we cannot draw you into our trouble… and it seems the young lord has already made too much of an impression for me to pull him off to war. Haha! Shame you can’t join me. It’s going to be a blast!”
“Father! I wish to join you in war!” his tall, redheaded daughter voiced, several other nobles behind her and the knights from across the field joining the call to arms.
Elinor picked up a seed the raven in front of her dropped from its mouth and swallowed it. Raising her arm, the clanking sounds of chains pulled everyone’s attention as she launched into the sky. The conversation was drawing too far away from herself and down avenues that could get sticky. Four chains shot from opposing sides to meet in the center, creating a tight platform that she landed on, exactly where the Grand Duke had floated.
Now, Tiffany.
A brilliance came from the VIP boxes, the rituals on the ravens’ legs activating, and the gemstones around their necks illuminating as a single raven took flight to land on one of her chains, staring at her. Rays of colors focused upward, creating a massive holographic projection as more ravens took to the sky, their ritual-linked crystals projecting her voice from the seed she’d ingested.
Sorry, Butter, but I don’t count this as food.
Balancing on the taut tightrope, her colossal reflection stared down at High Lord Debro, three more ravens landing on each side of the chains to record her from each angle.
“While I can understand the emotional response to retaliate when the lord that cared for you was attacked before my arrival, Princess Castria, High Lord Debro is correct. We are in no accord with Kaspir to join her in war, but I do offer my condolences for your loss, Lord Julian.”
Stunned silence filled the stadium, and even the Grand Duke seemed caught off-guard by the projection Tiffany maintained from inside their VIP box; it wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought due to the vast array of ingredients and time she’d been allowed to set it up.
She swept the crowd and two remaining High Lord and Lady, hovering nearby as she dexterously maneuvered on the linked chains. “I suppose my purpose for making this venture in your kingdom has been rather obscure… so I will formally make my introduction for your benefit.”
Hands clasped behind her back, she maintained an imperial pose as she caught the king floating out of the sky, returning to his high box; she could assume he’d returned with the statue his first wife’s corpse had been sealed inside, and the Paladins were hauling it through the supply zone to the stage. She just needed to buy a little more time.
Head held high, the High Nobles returning to their sitting areas, she proclaimed, “I am Empress Elinor, but some of you may know me by another name,” she chuckled, gesturing at the birds now seen across the massive coliseum, “the Raven Empress.”
She let the statement hang for several seconds, glowing emerald eyes orbs of fire in her projected image. “My purpose here is two-fold. First, I am here for Princess Castria’s education as a Tempest since I have none with such talents in my own kingdom… and her mother is not available to instruct her. You have already seen The Princess’ talent firsthand in that captivating dance with Lord Julian. Hmm…”
Her gaze fixated on the next four individuals who were supposed to take over this event once the initial fun was had between the Great Houses.
“The House Selection Ceremony is about to begin, and I am sure you all are dying to have the yearly entertainment of fighting the sad little shadows inside the Conjuror’s Gateways, but… I have my concerns regarding the curriculum of the College of Royals, Grandmasters, which I have addressed to your rector.”
The single woman sitting in the four Grandmaster chairs swiftly rose to her feet, her aged face showing a wealth of experience as she projected her own voice to be heard. “Empress, I can assure you without question Princess Castria more than meets the standard required for the House of Tempest. In fact, she stands as one of the very few who have managed to produce green flames at her age.”
“Precisely, Grandmaster Vesta,” Elinor returned with a disapproving click of her tongue that made several of the Tempest instructors underneath them flinch. “Can you hazard a guess as to why The Princess can produce such flames?”
Vesta didn’t bat an eye, keeping her tone neutral as the peasants and craftsmen alike listened intently to her sharp tongue toward their nobility, and all three Heads of the High Houses and their families were locked onto her disapproving face overhead, leering upon the professors.
“High expectations and strong discipline, I would say, Empress.”
“Only scratches the surface,” she stated, tightening the woman’s mouth. “My empire is one that gives no leniency to the weak nor narrow-minded.”
Chains breaking away, Elinor tucked her legs to the side to not allow her dress to slip right off her, the ravens diving with her to keep her projection stable. Two meters before touching the polished stadium, spiked links broke through space to attach to her hand, slowing her descent and allowing her to land on her feet without effort.
She stared up at the Grandmasters, now nervous about the position she’d taken. “My empire has flourished because of the diversity of talent that I have incorporated; talent like Castria, King Edmon, Queen Tiffany, and many, many others, small and large. You see this type of magic above me?”
Elinor began to move across the border of the stadium, no one daring to interrupt her as she made her point. “This was all done using ingredients from your House of Alchemy. We’ve already seen plenty of showcases of the heights of the noble Tempest, yet when I explored the House of Conjuration, I found so much lost potential, the same with the Magic Knights…”
Pausing to look up at the tens of thousands of people filling the circular coliseum stands, she said, “What I am saying is that while I concede that Kaspir has incredible potential, its practical use is wasted on finite Houses that will frankly… hamper my princess’ growth.”
Murmurs flooded the stands as people tried to dissect what she was saying, but that was for the nobility to decide.
Grandmaster Vesta shifted uncomfortably as she glanced at the king’s box, no doubt looking for support from the Grand Duke, yet it wouldn’t come. “Pardon me, Empress… but are you suggesting that The Princess should… learn Alchemy?”
Clicking her tongue, Elinor shook her head. “Again, this only scratches the surface of what grandeur your university could be, Lady Vesta. I call for a fifth House’s creation, which Princess Castria will join… A House that incorporates all learning, magical, science, psionics, mathematics, engineering… anything and everything that can be used for the good of the kingdom.”
“That’s… outrageous!” Grandmaster Holst roared, his shimmering red armor listening as he shot to his feet. “Empress, respectfully, this is not the way of the College of Royals! Nobles… learning Alchemy like, like peasants?! It’s absurd! Again, I mean no disrespect!” he repeated as her cool gaze shifted to him. “King Virelli—”
“Has given me his support,” she crisply interjected.
“Ahem,” High Lady Julia Proltis interjected from her box as the Paladins came out of one of the ground-floor openings, directing a horse and cart with an object shrouded by a linen sheet. “I can fully understand the sentiment for open-ended education and the potential benefits, but how will you fund, organize, find lodging, or… even find someone capable enough to lead such an ambitious undertaking?”
Elinor shifted her focus to the elderly woman, subtly resisting by trying to poke holes in the logistics of her proposal. “You believe I have not already thought of such things, High Lady Julia?”
“I am merely curious as to how you would convince professors to leave their esteemed positions to staff this fifth House. Am I to believe you will be sending your own talent from inside your kingdom to compete with our curriculum? Why go down this route instead of speaking to Grandmaster Vesta to allow Princess Castria a special exception, which I am sure she would accommodate?”
“Hehe. Nothing so openly hostile,” Elinor chortled to the uncomfortable shifts of the citizens and nobles alike. “And why would I wish such a special exception for my own princess?”
Turning to the applicant Tempest, she saw lumps form in every young 17-year-old who saw the giant projection stare down at them. “Princess Heather, join me.”
“M-Me?” the redhead choked, nerves hitting their peak and making her quake as every eye locked onto the girl. “P-Please, Empress, I… I don’t want to fight you again,” she cried, sending her message directly to her with tears starting to form in her eyes as she tried to fight back her mental horror of being humiliated in front of her abusive mother. “Please…”
Elinor didn’t budge. “I will not repeat myself.”
Unable to remain calm enough to use her powers, the girl hugged herself and tried not to stumble or trip as she jogged up the steps and onto the stage. Yet, she couldn’t help but miss a step and almost fall on her face when Elinor continued, not that anyone noticed.
“I will have Princess Heather join this new House, where she and Princess Castria can become better acquainted.” She turned a fond smile toward the stunned girl as she tried to pick herself up, legs weak. “Contrary to what rumors have circulated, I quite enjoy your princess and believe she will make a wonderful friend to my dear Princess Castria. You cannot imagine the joy I felt when learning the House of Tempest would be blacklisting her ability to join.”
“Yes,” Julia whispered, “but we must—”
“High Lady Julia Proltis…” A shiver ran through the older woman’s frame as a white flame rose out of Elinor’s own private box, and Queen Alivau Alciel’s radiant form displayed a pointed stare. “What is your purpose in making a fool of your king’s decision? Has my husband not already given the Raven Empress his support?”
Elinor could feel the tension rise as the temperamental queen floated out to join her, the harsh, flaming wind whipping up a storm and raising her fiery locks to the sky as she slowly lowered to stand beside her; naturally, this was what Elinor had been waiting for since the woman believed she was on her and her daughter’s side in this: she was half-right.
A single look from her queenly mother made Heather go stiff as a board and do her best to put on a mask, yet her chest didn’t move an inch as she held her breath. She did her best to walk to their side, face already the color of her hair, and trying not to choke, vomit, or faint.
Julia gracefully backed away from the edge. “I apologize for my behavior, Queen Alivau. I am curious as to who the Empress has found to lead such a House.”
“I’m glad you asked,” Elinor chortled, nodding at the queen, eyes challenging anyone else to pose any more objections; all of the Grandmasters returned to their seats as Alivau sniffed, her white flames dying down before cooking Elinor alive. “Why don’t you do the honors?” she asked, making a gesture at the veiled statue.
The Paladins worked together to place in front of them, careful not to reveal what lay underneath. An ominous silence ensued as Elinor said, “Meet the Grandmaster, who will take the initiative in organizing this House that King Virelli and I have come to an agreement on.”
Alivau’s brow furrowed, a small, curious smile lifting her lips as she held out a hand, hot wind cycling around the object and making the sheet flutter.
“You do know how to lead a show, Empress,” the queen whispered, flinging the veil into the air. “My daughter will…” The woman’s mouth fell open, eyes going wide as the ravens shifted the projection to display the statue for all to see. “You… cannot be serious, Empress.”
“I’m afraid I am,” Elinor chuckled. “Meet Grandmaster Lilya Alicia Alciel, Head of the House of Ravens, and former Queen of the Kaspir Kingdom. I hope you enjoy my gift to the royal family.”
She spread her arms wide as the projection returned to her. “Kaspir Kingdom, yes, I can return the dead to life, and so, so much more. With this gift and this House’s creation, we are now allied kingdoms and more gifts are to come.”
Her arms ignited with emerald flames, and she felt the gears click into place:
[Empire Foreign Relations Level Increased: Level 2]
[Empire Foreign Relations Level Increased: Level 3]
[Grade Advancement - Monarch of Death IV Unlocked]
[New Monarch Slot Added: 1 Available]
[Level Up - Level 19]
[1 Stat Points Added: 4 Available]
[1 Feat Extensions Added: 5 Available]
[2 Equipable Feats Available]
[Level Up - Level 20]
[1 Stat Points Added: 5 Available]
[5 Feat Extensions Available]
[2 Equipable Feats Available]
[New Monarch Slot Added: 2 Available]
[New Limit Break Perk/Advancement Unlocked]
[New Feat Slot Added: 5 Slots Available (4/5 Used)]
[Type Evolution Unlocked]
[Evolution Extension Available]
Lips peeling back, Elinor laughed as she felt herself on the cusp of leveling yet again. She’d been right; the System was offering her paths to evolve, which could change the whole game. If that wasn’t sweet enough, the color draining from the abusive mother’s face was like sugar on her tongue.
“Well, enough waiting,” she chimed. “Let’s resurrect the former queen!”