“Execute him,” Emperor Caedan ordered.

Felix watched the murderer be dragged out of the room, kicking and screaming. He knew the man would be at the gallows the next morning, facing his fate as decreed by the Emperor. He was just one of many that Felix had seen come before Caedan that morning.

General Xavier approached the throne, his boots clicking on the marble floor. He bowed before Caedan.

“Am I done for today, Xavier?” Caedan asked. The Emperor was approaching overweight, having little reason to exercise anymore. His skin was smooth and as dark as night, in stark contrast to the grey beard that was perfectly maintained on his chin. His clothes were rich, as was expected of the ruler of the Lorric Empire. “I am tired and wish to retire for dinner.”

“That is all of the prisoners that demand your verdict, but I am afraid there are a few more things to see to before dinner, sire,” General Xavier said. He was thinner than Caedan, stronger too, his skin just as dark. His head was shaved clean, not a hair to be found anywhere aside from the brows of his blue eyes.

“Well, get on with it.”

“Firstly, sire, there is a delegation from the Isles of Hardune.”

“Oh, not those barbarians again,” Caedan complained.

“They are here to pay their respects to you, sire.”

“Send them in. Let’s get this over with. Guards, be ready.”

Felix loosely gripped the sword at his waist. He disliked the Hardunians and their visits as much as the Emperor did. Though they were small in numbers, they were some of the most vicious fighters Felix had ever seen. It was the only reason they had remained independent during Caedan’s expansion. They always seemed to cause problems when they arrived. Nothing serious, but still a nuisance.

Xavier led the delegation along the long hall. They wore little armour, all visible skin covered in tattoos. They had left their weapons behind, but that mattered little; they were known for using their fists as much as anything else. One carried an orange banner, depicting the symbol of two crescent moons closing around a sword.

They stopped before the throne and bowed deeply. One stepped forward, an ornate box in his hands.

“His Grace, Count Doglan of the Isles of Hardune,” Xavier announced.

“Count Doglan, it has been a long time,” Caedan said. Despite his disdain for the people, the Emperor was able to appear calm and collected.

“Your Imperial Majesty, it is an honour to meet you again,” Doglan said, bowing again. Muscles bulged across the Count’s torso, the skin bronzed. On one half of his chest, a tattoo of a giant sea serpent was depicted, on the other, a warrior with a tall warhammer. “His Supreme Excellency, King Rarthak of the Isles of Hardune, wisest of all people, sends his warmest regards.”

“He is too kind,” Caedan said dryly.

“Yes, he is,” Doglan said, unwilling or perhaps unable to pick up on the Emperor’s sarcasm. “We have brought a gift for you, to show His Supreme Excellency’s continued interest in our friendship.” Doglan came closer to the throne, the box held before him.

Felix moved swiftly to come between the Count and the throne, as did the guards around the room. Doglan stopped walking, looking back and forth from the soldiers to Caedan.

“I thank you most kindly for your gift, Count Doglan,” Caedan said. “Please, give it to the Paladin to bring to me. There are many who would benefit from my death, and who would take severe action so that it comes about. I am certain that nothing like that would happen from any of your people, but I cannot make exceptions to the rules. I hope you understand.”

Doglan hesitated for a moment, clearly unhappy. But in the end, he had to abide by the Emperor’s rules. He handed the box to Felix. “Of course I understand, Your Imperial Majesty. I am saddened that such precautions are necessary, but there are many monsters in your land.” Felix heard the accusation in his voice, but the Emperor ignored it.

Felix climbed the steps of the dais up to the throne. The guards returned to their place beside the throne. Felix noted the greedy look in Caedan’s eyes as he held out the box to the Emperor.

Felix lifted the lid off the box to show Caedan, a smile spreading across the Emperor’s face. He pulled the gift out, holding it up to his eyes to examine it. It was a magnificent necklace, a chain of gold supporting a string of shiny emeralds. Caedan looked at it greedily, his finger touching each of the green stones. Felix had heard the vaults underneath the palace were full with similar trinkets and valuables, as well as rooms filled entirely with gold. Felix had never been inside, but he had witnessed many nobles giving gifts to the Emperor.

“It is very elegant,” Caedan said, not taking his eyes off of the necklace.

“Yes,” Doglan said. “His Supreme Excellency chose it himself. In his neverending wisdom, he wishes to continue the friendship between our lands.”

“I am honoured, Count.” Caedan placed the necklace back into the box, waving Felix down off the dais. “I shall treasure this, as I treasure our friendship. What will you do while here?”

“In his superior judgement, His Supreme Excellency has instructed me to see to our interests with those we deal with here in this land.”

“You are welcome to go where you wish. As always, it is a pleasure to have your people in our land. Carry my regards back to King Rarthak.”

“His Supreme Excellency shall hear them.” Count Doglan bowed a final time. He turned and left the room, his group trailing along behind him.

A servant came up to Felix, and he handed the ornate box off to him. General Xavier approached the throne again, having seen the Hardunians out of the hall.

“What’s next, Xavier?” Caedan asked, sighing.

“A man arrived this morning from Challter,” Xavier said. “He claimed he needed to speak to you urgently, and has refused to tell anything to anyone else. I do not like the look of him, but he carries the sigil of Sheriff Lorhorn of Nailhaim.”

“Bring him in, then. But make it a quick meeting.”

The man was led in from the far side of the room. He walked with a limp, his right leg struggling to keep up. His skin was chalky white, and he looked almost sickly. Felix could see the exhausted look on the man’s face, and the desperation with which he looked at the throne. Felix tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, wary.

“A representative of His Grace, Sheriff Lorhorn of Nailhaim,” Xavier announced.

“Your Imperial Majesty, my name is Gilbert Whitehall of Nailhaim. I was a captain in Sheriff Lorhorn’s personal guard. I have travelled many days with no rest nor breaks to reach you.”

“Gilbert, I welcome you to Lorr,” Caedan said. “The people of Challter are always welcome in my land.”

“Sire, I have come to beg for your help. There is a rebellion in Challter.”

“I had heard there was some unrest in your land.”

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“This is not just some unrest, sire. Bandits and thugs are slaughtering the good soldiers in my home.” Gilbert was almost growling with anger. “They have tricked the people into thinking the Sheriff is evil.”

“Why doesn’t Lorhorn stamp them out?”

“He tried. They were wider spread than we had expected, and they caught us by surprise. Nailhaim has already fallen. The other five city states will not last much longer, and soon all of Challter could be in the rebels’ hands.”

“What is Lorhorn doing about this?”

“Lorhorn is dead.”

Gilbert pulled something out of his pocket and threw it to the floor. It bounced against the marbles and came to a halt in front of the throne. Every head in the room craned to look at it. It was a flat wooden coin, a snarling crocodile stamped onto it. The sigil of Lorhorn. Blood was splattered across it.

“Lorhorn pressed that into my hands after he had been stabbed,” Gilbert continued. “He ordered me here, his last order before he died. I barely escaped with my life. My leg was badly injured from their archers.” Gilbert went to his knees and bowed his head. “Your Imperial Majesty, I beg you to send your army to Challter and restore order.”

“Why should I commit my forces to a land that isn’t mine, dealing with a problem that isn’t mine?” Caedan asked.

“The Sheriffs would compensate you for your help,” Gilbert said, not moving.

“I don't know how much the Sheriffs will have left after this.”

“Sire, Challter has always been friendly with you. These bandits will not be. If they come to control the land, you will have an enemy to your north.”

“What good is a friend if all my soldiers are dead?” Caedan thought for a moment. “I cannot send my army. At least not yet.”

“Sire, your troops are needed now!” Gilbert rose to his feet, staring at Caedan. “If you wait, the Sheriffs could all be killed.”

“I cannot commit my soldiers until I know what I am getting into. I will send someone I trust to investigate before I make my decision. You are welcome to wait here until I make my decision.”

“You will be too late,” Gilbert muttered underneath his breath, Felix barely hearing it.

Felix saw the hand slip underneath the cloak. His sword was already drawn as Gilbert leapt towards the throne. Felix came in front of him, sword swinging. Hand and knife flew away from Gilbert. He fell to his knee, clutching at the stump at the end of his arm, blood pumping out.

The whole thing had taken less than a second, and Gilbert was still many steps away from the bottom of the dais. The people in the hall stared in shock. Caedan’s guards were slow reacting, barely moving as the hand hit the ground.

Gilbert stared at his arm, his head bowed. He made no sound, the pain too much to comprehend. Felix hovered his blade over the man’s neck, and looked up at Caedan. Caedan stared at the kneeling figure, thinking. He nodded at Felix and looked away. Felix swung his blade and decapitated Gilbert Whitehall.

Soldiers came forward and dragged the body and head away as Felix returned to his place beside the throne. He cleaned his blade off his sleeve and sheathed it. Caedan turned to Xavier, being careful to not look at the blood.

“I am done for today, Xavier,” Caedan said. He rose from his throne and descended the dais.

“Sire, what shall we do about Challter?” Xavier asked.

Caedan halted at the door and turned back. “Where is General Ingmar?”

“He should be returning tomorrow, sire.”

“Send him to Challter to investigate what is going on.” Caedan turned and left the room, Felix and the guards flanking him.

Caedan entered his personal quarters, Felix staying outside. After only a few moments, two new guards approached the room, a Paladin leading them.

“You’re relieved,” the Paladin said, taking Felix’s place beside the door. “Felix, Braydan was looking for you.”

“He’s back?” Felix asked.

“Yes. I last saw him by the training arena.”

“Thank you, Rolan.”

Felix set off through the palace, striding down the opulent corridors. Lines of gold traced along the walls, past elegant paintings commissioned by Caedan. The palace was a sprawling structure, full of the loot of Caedan’s victories. It had only been an insignificant manor surrounded by a small town when Caedan had found it and made it his home. From there, he had taken the land, the Four Generals crushing all who opposed him. Their names were known throughout the realm; Xavier the Loyal, Ingmar the Fierce, Erion the Shrewd and Cyclops the Vicious. They answered to Caedan alone, and he was answerable to no one.

Felix was tall and lean, his body hard from decades of training for war. A black beard was closely trimmed to his jawline, his tanned skin unscarred apart from an old wound along the back of one hand. He walked purposefully, his strides long and unbroken. He was almost fifty years old, having been in Wardom for nearly three decades, the last two serving Caedan and the Lorric Empire.

Felix emerged into the training arena. Soldiers sparred against each other, keeping their skills in practice. Caedan had become a paranoid man, and the palace guards had to be strong in the face of all opponents.

Interspersed among the palace guard, a couple of the Paladins trained. They were an elite fighting force, less than two dozen of them in total. Their existence stretched back into the history of Wardom, the founders having died the second death long before. They were some of the best fighters in all of the Afterlife, currently in the service of Caedan. Felix was proud to be one of them.

Felix found Braydan Morrki, Head of the Paladins, on a balcony overlooking the arena. He leaned against the rails, watching some other Paladins duelling. His black hair was tousled and unkempt, framing his pale face. He was half a dozen years older than Felix, and though some would consider them both old now, they were still some of the best fighters around. He looked up as Felix approached.

“Felix, I hear there was some trouble during an audience with the Emperor this afternoon,” Braydan said.

“Nothing major, Braydan,” Felix said. “I dealt with it swiftly, before there was ever any real threat to the Emperor.”

“Good. What was the problem with the man?”

“Needed Lorr’s help. Seems there is some trouble in Challter.”

“Really?”

“Yes. A rebellion.” Felix sighed. “I fear war will be coming shortly. There is a feeling of it everywhere.” Felix shook his head. “How was your trip?”

“Eh. Nothing unusual. I met with Vita and Gorran. They are going to take positions along the eastern part of the Prollan border. And I think your feeling of war is right. I have heard that the Four Generals are planning something. Something to do with Prolla, though currently it is all very secret. And Cyclops is still away, on another secret task.”

Felix sighed again. He leant against the wall and looked at the soldiers. “Well, it is not for us to speculate. They will tell us eventually.”

“Caedan should have told me already.”

Felix felt the conversation taking a dark turn, and tried to turn it around. “You needed me for something?”

“Ah yes. I have a task for you.”

Braydan pointed towards a fighting trio, two of them palace guards. The third wore neither the armour of the palace guards nor the common soldiers, instead dressed in plain clothes. She was holding her own easily against the two warriors, in fact she was beating them. She was young by Felix’s eye, and yet her fighting had both skill and power.

“Do you see the young one?” Braydan asked.

“Yes,” Felix replied. “I don’t recognise her.”

“You wouldn’t. I found her on my way back. She is a new arrival, and joined the army. The commander noted her particular skill, and passed her along to me.” The woman disarmed one of her opponents and spun to face the other. “That is the third duo she has faced in a row, and she is still going strong.”

“She has talent, I will give you that. But why did you bring her here? It is not your job to recruit for the palace guard.”

“I didn’t bring her for the palace guard.” Braydan turned to face Felix. “I think it is time you take an apprentice.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I am serious. All Paladins take an apprentice at some stage. Otherwise we would have died out long ago. And I think she has what it takes to become a Paladin.”

“But why me?” Felix moaned. “Why not Horfail or Rolan or one of the others?”

“Horfail has trained plenty of Paladins in his time. And Rolan is barely passed being an apprentice himself. And because I chose you. Felix, it is time. It is past time, really. You have been with the Order for almost two decades, and in Wardom for another decade before that. Yet you have never taken an apprentice, and I have never tried to force one on you.”

“Until now.”

“You are one of the best, Felix. Your sword skills are unmatched, even by the few members of our Order who are your senior. It is time. Relax, there isn’t much to it. She already has skill with a blade.”

“There is more to being a Paladin than being a good fighter.”

“I know that better than most. And you can teach her those things. War is coming soon, we both know it. And it will be the largest war since Caedan came to power. Our Order must be strong when war comes.”

Felix turned to look back at the woman. She was forcing the palace guard backwards with each swing. “What’s her name?” he asked.

“Kaesyn. Just keep her by your side for a while. Show her how things are run, and teach her what she needs to learn. Hopefully it won’t take that long. Who knows? Maybe you will even enjoy yourself.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“You will take her?” Braydan asked. Kaesyn disarmed her opponent with a swift blow to the hand. The wooden sword fell to the floor.

“I’ll meet her at dawn. We shall see if she is as good as you say.”