Keith paced up and down the halls of the Blackhall palace. Nearly two weeks had passed since Octavia had left in an attempt to save the Okean emperor. Okea had entered a communications lockdown, refusing to let any information on the attack reach outside their borders. Keith was left with no way to know what had happened, if Octavia succeeded or even simply survived.

The fire lit halls of Drakgard castle felt strange to return to after spending time in the shining lights of Xenon. Dancing flames cast shadows over Keith's face as he gazed out the window. A church procession marched outside, making their way to the cathedral of Saint Kaenith, Keith's namesake. Blackhall was a sprawling city of wooden halls and thatched roofs, certainly not as grand as Xenon, yet Keith felt far more comfortable surrounded by stone rather than iron and brass.

The glass domed roof of Saint Kaenith's cathedral filled with light in the distance, shooting a beam of Light energy into the clouds. A thunder-esque crack shook the city to mark the release of the priest's midday prayers to the heavens. Keith clapped his hands together in prayer, wishing for Octavia’s wellbeing.

"May the seven Granums protect you, Via."

After a brief pause for worship, the city below began the bustle of daily life once again. A squire entered the hall, shaking Keith’s shoulder for his attention.

“Excuse me Sir Caines, a letter has come for you. The sender is unknown, however the carrier hawk is native to Okea.”

“I thought Okea is under a communications lockdown, how did a letter manage to reach Blackhall?”

“Unknown, Sir. The lockdown is still in effect to the best of our knowledge. The letter itself is quite cryptic, normally it wouldn’t pass screening. However, it carries your official seal.”

Keith picked up the letter and examined the seal. Red wax pressed with the design of a two headed wyvern, the Caines family coat of arms. The bottom edge read “Di Iaz Krella Drakanis”. Translated from old Caynan it meant “The Dragon’s Right Claw”, Keith’s personal title. Without a doubt the letter was from someone well acquainted with him.

“I have a suspicion of who sent this.” Keith smiled slightly as he spoke. “Run along now Squire Dennis, I’m sure the guardmaster will want you back soon.”

“Of course, crown prince. See you later.” The squire bowed slightly. He ran off down the halls, holding an oversized helmet to his head.

Keith rolled open the parchment letter, a material only used in the arid Okean Empire. The writing was cryptic and meaningless just as Dennis had described, yet Keith recognised what it meant immediately. As a child, Octavia and him had created their own code language to sneak hidden messages past their families. Nostalgia washed over Keith while he translated it.

“Hey Dennis!” The prince shouted after his squire, waving a hand in the air. “Change of plans. Pack my luggage, I have to make a trip!”

Dennis spun around, nearly tripping over himself. “A trip? What do you mean Sir? Where to?”

“Okea. There’s an old friend there who needs my help.” said Keith, sliding the folded letter into his pocket.

***

Octavia awoke inside a sun bleached adobe church, groaning. The windows shone midday light into her eyes. She winced and held her hand to block the sun’s rays as a priest in stark white robes came to greet her. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for Guard.

“Good afternoon, wanderer. What brings you to our humble town in such a state?” spoke the priest. Despite a heavy accent, his fluency in Xeonic was impressive. He patted Octavia’s head using a warm cloth, sewn with religious iconography she couldn’t recognize.

“Guard… My automaton, is he here?” Octavia whispered softly as she sat up. Cramps shot through her body, freezing her in place.

“The metal creature is being held away in the prison. Please understand that the townsfolk are quite scared of what it may attempt to do in our peaceful town.” The priest’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of Guard, reaching for the small Star of Anem on his necklace.

“I see… I hope I haven’t burdened you for too long.”

“Of course not, that is our duty as the church. We look after all the strays who reach our doors. I’m simply happy you’ve made a full recovery. Mana depletion can be a serious danger.”

“I’ve never been the best with magic, guess I overworked myself.” Octavia looked down at her hand. It still ached from the aftershocks of her spell. “Nevermind that. Has the capital heard of what happened near the border yet?”

“The border? We haven’t had much news come in since the communications lockdown, so I’m sorry to say that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Communications lockdown? Why?”

The priest shook his head. “Nobody knows. I’ve heard whispers of an assasination but nothing is certain. What I do know is that military recruitment squads have been sweeping small villages like ours. Things almost feel like we’re preparing for war. Anem guide us if such a thing happens.”

“Okea preparing for war, that’s exactly what Lex wanted…” Octavia murmured to herself. “How long will it take to reach the capital from here?”

“Less than a day by carriage, but you’re in no position to be moving about so soon.”

“Sorry, but this cramp will be better to walk off than sleep off.” Octavia grinned, pulling herself up despite the scream of her muscles. “Now, will this be enough to pay for the carriage trip?” she said, pulling a silver hairpin from her head.

***

The road from Blackhall to Okea was unusually quiet. The lockdown meant that access both in and out of the country was heavily restricted to the bare essentials of trade. Keith bounced about the back of his carriage on the lookout for bandits. Opposite from his seat was a woman with long red hair tied back into a ponytail. She wore battle scarred half plate with a carefree attitude, both hands resting on a sword hilt.

“So Keith, who are we going so far to help out? I don’t remember you having too many friends in Okea.”

“You aren’t the most tight lipped of people, Terezia. If I told you the purpose of this journey then every person on Terra would know within the afternoon.”

Terezia smirked, lounging across her seat. “How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t even know where we’re going? You’re making my job pretty difficult here.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. You always have before.”

The carriage approached the outskirts of a small town to the road’s side. A quaint assortment of adobe buildings and villagers who followed a simpler way of life. Nearly a dozen young children rushed out of the stables to greet them, tying down the horses and raising a toll box before the driver.

Seeing kids working was uncomfortable for Keith, Blackhall had banned the practice of child labor long before he was born. Despite the proximity to his home country he had hardly ever journeyed to Okea. The desert empire was reclusive to all outsiders not closely related with the church.

Nearly fifty years ago the empire had expanded to conquer nearly all the surrounding lands, however under the rule of the latest and most religious emperor they ceased their conquests, choosing instead to focus on matters within their borders.

Kieth and his bodyguard exited the stable at the escort of an enthusiastic child. The kids around them chattered in a language neither of them could understand, pointing at the visitors while their heads were turned.

“First no traveler come for months, then two group within single week! What is deal with that, foreigner?” spoke a kid with short black hair in a broken Caenith dialect.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Keith kneeled, looking straight into the child’s eyes. “That other group you mentioned, were they a tough looking lady with pink hair and a big metal beast?”

“Indeed. You know others?”

A smile spread across Keith’s face. “Yes, yes I do. Can you tell me where they went?”

“The capital! They gave Hi’Sajuuk a shiny hair clip!”

The child showed off a silver clip, beaming with pride.

Across the town every fit teenager over sixteen was lined up, overlooked by a flock of soldiers. They walked through the rows, inspecting the bodies of the townsfolk to find the most fit and healthy for mandatory military service. Keith attempted to cover his face with a jacket collar, walking faster past the soldiers. A single officer caught him in the corner of their eye, calling out to halt.

“The borders are closed to foreigners, how did you get into the country?”

“My name is Prince Keith Caines, descendant of Caynen the Great and heir to the throne of Blackhall. I’ve come to discuss lockdown terms with his eminence the Okean Emperor.” Keith introduced himself with a bow, briefly signaling the hesitant Terezia to follow his lead.

“The emperor is isolated within the palace, refusing to accept visitors. I can either escort you out of the country or into a cell within the capital. As I said before, the borders are closed. No matter who you are.”

“If I come with you to a prison in Zanidin will I at least be granted a chance to speak to someone?”

The soldier shrugged and called over two more men to surround Keith and Terezia. “I can’t promise anything. That will be up to those in charge of you once you’re delivered. Men, tie them up and toss them in a cart. I’ll wrap up recruitment procedures.”

Terezia shot Keith an annoyed glance as their wrists were tied. “Great job, Keith. Looks like we’ll get a first class ride to the royal palace. Too bad as soon as we get there I’m going to beat you to death myself for pulling this stunt.”

Keith laughed. “A ride is a ride. What more do you want? Breakfast in bed?”

Soldiers shoved them into the back of a cargo carriage amidst bags of flour and coins taken for military taxes. They waited in silence for hours before the cart’s axles churned into life, pushing them along towards the capital.

***

Octavia explored Zanidin's bustling streets, holding the brim of a hat low over her eyes in an attempt to cover her face. Limestone buildings two or three stories tall were crammed together, ropes spanning across them with tarps covering hundreds of street vendor stalls. She pushed through dark skinned passersby dressed in rough white cotton, berated from every side by vendors. Octavia broke down, buying a kebab from a merchant for a handful of coins the priest had provided when she left.

The kebab’s flavor was impossible to place, yet it made Octavia want to spit it out immediately. She struggled to dig her teeth into the stringy meat, determined to finish what she paid for.

She had left Guard at an inn due to her driver's advice. The people of this country didn't take kindly to Xenon's inventions, shunning them as perversions of nature.

Octavia considered her options moving forward. Returning to Xenon would be near impossible now, System’s plans were deep in motion, and she had failed to protect the emperor. Nearly everything she set out to accomplish had gone horribly wrong.

Contacting Keith would be essential, however the lockdown made it nearly impossible. A ring of muscular thugs emerged from the crowd, forming a circle around Octavia as she held her head in deep thought. A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to flip around with lightning speed, holding the edge of a blade to the thug’s throat.

The thug held up his arms in surrender while a smaller, well dressed man entered the circle. The crowd outside knowingly kept their distance as if this kind of situation was all too common for them.

“Greetings Princess Octavia of Xenon. I am Ka’Jazim, the left fist of Ka’Hashaan, ruler of Zanidin’s shadows. His majesty has requested an audience with you. An invitation you would be wise to accept.” said the well dressed thug with a heavy accent, gesturing to the men around him. They drew their swords, imposing down on Octavia from all sides. She stood strong in the center and slid her blade back into its sheath.

“A criminal syndicate? I see.” Octavia stroked her chin, resting a hand on the hilt of her sword. “That could be useful… Does your Ka’Hashaan have the ability to send messages outside of the lockdown?”

The well dressed thug was taken aback in a fit of anger.

“You think you can simply make demands of the great Ka’Hashaan? You will come whether you wish it or not!”

Within the blink of an eye, the point of Octavia’s sword was directly above his heart. She smirked, staring into his eyes.

“I asked a question. I expect an answer.”

Ka’Jazim wilted before her blade, nodding vigorously.

“The message can be sent, without a doubt.”

Octavia pulled away the sword, twirling it around in her hand.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” She motioned forward, laying the blade over her shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Together they walked into the shadowy depths of an alleyway, followed closely by a small squad of thugs.

Underneath the city was a maze of tunnels descending deep under the surface. The damp wetness of the underground felt a paradise after hours in the baking hot sun. Filthy homeless dressed in ragged cloth shambled through the neverending stone brick halls as if in a daze. They stumbled to lay flat against the walls as Ka’Jazim approached, trembling with fear.

Towering double doors opened before Jazim, revealing a grand hall filled with luxurious food and drink. Slaves and servant children ran across the room carrying platters of curry and bread. Music rocked the room from a large automated record player mounted to the wall, livening the warm and lively atmosphere. The center of the room was lined with thin yellow silks, revealing the silhouette of a large man.

The doors slammed shut behind them, trapping Octavia. The cool dampness of the tunnels had become an uncomfortable humidity in the active room. She rolled up her sleeves, wiping sweat off her forehead.

Ka’Jazim escorted Octavia to the silk veil in the room’s center, bowing slightly as he passed through the curtains. Octavia moved forward to follow him before the hand of a thug grabbed her shoulder to hold her in place.

The entire hall fell into complete silence as the man behind the curtains began to speak in a raspy whisper. Octavia was pushed into a bow by the hand on her shoulder.

“Welcome to the true face of Zanidin. I, Ka’Hashaan, welcome you with open arms and overflowing water.”

Water was poured onto the floor by a pair of slaves, evaporating in the room’s beating heat mere moments after it hit the stone.

“I have always appreciated the trinkets of your nation. Music which plays without a band, soldiers who need no sleep or pay…” Ka’Hashaan spoke, the silks around him parting away to reveal his form. His pale, obese body was tied up in cords and pipes. A respirator around his mouth connected to a myriad of steam powered life support machines clicking quietly away. “... and even machines to hold away death itself.”

Ka’Hashaan burst into laughter, shaking the frame of his life support system.

“I feel I owe your people a debt. They commit such foolish actions, yet they bring these wonders into the world. How better to repay this debt than to allow you an audience in your time of need?” Hashaan leaned forward, breathing heavily into his mouthpiece. “So little princess… I shall grant you one wish.”

Octavia swallowed down her pride, forcing herself into the manner of etiquette she hated so much. Her hands balled into fists as her voice struggled to maintain a respectful tone.

“I am honored to be in your presence, Lord Hashaan. I have come with a wish for communication out of the nation. A letter to Prince Keith of Blackhall.” Looking down deep in thought, suddenly Octavia’s eyes lit up. She grinned cockily, glancing back at the Ka’Hashaan. “And if I may be so bold, may I ask for one more thing?”

Hashaan’s eyes narrowed, a single pasty white arm pulling the respirator from his mouth. His obese body leaned forward until his face was inches away from Octavia’s. “Of course, dear princess. However…” His tongue rolled around his lips, splattering Octavia’s face with saliva. She wiped it off, glaring into his eyes. “One wish is free, the rest require… Compensation.”

“I don’t have very much money at the moment. What would you ask of me?” Octavia said, unwavering before the disgusting man before her.

“Nothing for now. You are still worth very little. However in you I see…” Ka’Hashaan pulled the respirator back over his face, breathing deeply. “Potential. I shall invest in you, and one day that investment shall hopefully…” He grinned from under the respirator, chuckling slightly. “Bloom into something wonderful indeed.”

Octavia backed away slowly as he erupted into a disturbing mixture of laughter and a hacking cough.

“Very well then princess. What is your second wish?”

“I need passage to the magicite mines of Nahazir. The only chance of victory against Xenon lies within its depths. If the one who pulls the strings of my country needs it, I must pluck it from his grasp.” Octavia pulled her sword from her side, observing the reflective gleam of torchlight across the blade’s surface. “No matter what, I will find their weakness and crush it with this hand of steel. On this certainty I swear...”

She stared directly at the Ka’Hashaan.

“Xenon will fall.”

Ka’Hashaan clapped wildly. “Wonderful! Wonderful! Such… Bravado. Ka’Jazim, take this woman to send her message!” He gestured towards the man beside him. “Then talk to our friends within the military. An extermination within the mines of Nahazir shall be scheduled... and the their army's newest recruit shall lead a squad into its depths.”

Jazim walked up to Octavia, pulling her back towards the tunnels.

Hashaan shouted after them, straining his weak voice to reach far ahead.

“I shall await the fireworks show with baited breath, dear princess! Or should I say... fresh recruit of the grand Okean military.”

Octavia looked away in disgust, following Jazim outside the tunnels.

“We can get the letter to Darkgard Castle, however I can’t promise the message will be able to reach him past security.” said Ka’Jazim.

Holding up her hand, Octavia rolled a ring around her index finger. A small golden ring emblazoned with the personal crest of Keith Caines, made for stamping wax seals. He had given it to her long ago as a token of their trust.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll reach him. There are very few people in this world who can say they carry this seal. They won’t be able to ignore it.”

The next day a carrier hawk flew from Okea, carrying a small papyrus letter across the border to Blackhall, written in a way only the prince could understand.

“Greetings Keith.

As you may be able to infer, I am alive within the Okean Empire. The emperor has died, and Lex’s plans are coming to fruition. War is inevitable. So I have decided, I shall lead Okea into war against Xenon. It will be dangerous, but if you can come… It would be nice to have you by my side. The day has come for the first real war of my life, and in it I shall claim my right to rule Xenon by force.

Your dearest friend,

Octavia Servius”