ã€ŠWyrdstone.ã€‹


 I. The Prince Sails Along the Harbor and Stars

    I, Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex

    Noble son of Aegtrys

    Stormlord sired

    shall brave the Gods and seize the stars

    ¡ª Entry from crown prince Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex

    Year 1 of the Conquering

    Incessant squawking forced the shells of Asho Ashen Ashiphiex¡¯s eyes open. The prince cast one ocean blue iris towards the cloudless sky and hissed. His fingers dragged along sunburnt cheeks and trailed the falcon¡¯s dark wings as she circled the mainmast of the barge. Asho groaned and pushed the silver circuit back into his mass of golden brown curls. He clumsily seized the memory of stumbling onto the Firefayer¡¯s deck to hurl before collapsing under the stars.

    Asho turned his head towards where the neptori took up their morning stations; cleaning up spilled jugs and mopping the wine soaked deck. The previous evenings entertainment; poets and prize fighters bought with Asho¡¯s hefty allowance, were passed out. His helmsman Ronas nudged a neptori with his boot before noticing he was awake.

    Yawning, Asho stood and matched the peregrine¡¯s shrill call. The bird corkscrewed towards his outstretched arm. Hot air punched his face as she landed. The bird cooed affectionately, sticking out her leg. Asho slit the wax seal with his thumb. Ocean eyes lazily roamed the page before a clarity pierced the fogginess of his mind. ¡°Just perfect.¡± He rubbed the falcon¡¯s feathers for a moment as he took in the horizon line. Exhaling, the prince released the bird. The peregrine dived over the side of the Firefayer, sharp wings cutting against the surface before she disappeared beneath the gentle waves.

    Asho wiped his mouth, nose scrunching at the acidic scent. He walked, as straight as he could, towards Ronas. ¡°Take us to harbor.¡± He ordered.

    ¡°At once prince.¡± The helmsman kissed his knuckles.

    Tapping his teeth, Asho dropped below the upper deck, the cool darkness that enveloped him an immediate relief from the scorching sun.

    ¡°Aye! Look our patron lives!¡±

    ¡°Hail our patron lives!¡± The bench parroted.

    The oarsman¡¯s leader, a barrelchested neptori named Pontus gleefully leaned forward. ¡°What say you prince? Now you¡¯ve gotten your beauty sleep? It¡¯s never to early to begin enjoying Inusgi¡¯s bounty!¡±

    ¡°No, no-¡± The prince¡¯s mind was far to distracted to deal with his alcoholic crew. ¡°I have to get to Aegtrys.¡±

    The bench deflated. ¡°My arms hurt!¡± Someone complained.

    Asho scowled at the scrawny oarsman. ¡°Just row the damn boat!¡±

    ¡°You heard our patron!¡± Pontos said, grabbing for his oar. ¡°We row ashore.¡±

    The captain¡¯s quarters, unfortunately, were at the back of the cramped oarsmen¡¯s deck. The prince marched past the benches of complaining oarsmen as they changed course. His skin prickled with the knowledge of dozens of eyes on him as he opened the door. Cheeks hot, he squeezed through the opening.

    The Firefayer¡¯s office remained undisturbed, mostly. A back wall was lit by two oil lamps displaying the Perimar family crest, a spearfish. Bones of an ancient hammerhead shark, likely older than Trajan Perimar himself, were strung up from the ceiling over a dust covered desk. What definitely did not belong to his older-than-time uncle was the naked woman dozing on the small cot.

    Asho¡¯s limbs  scattered in different directions to find his discarded neptori armor. The stranger rolled over, pressing her palms to her eyes. ¡°What are you doing?¡± She grumbled.

    Asho stared at her blankly. I could ask you the same question. ¡°I¡¯ve been summoned ashore.¡±

    ¡°So soon.¡±

    Remain composed, Asho. ¡°Unfortunately so, love.¡± Asho heaved the bronze breastplate over his tunic. He finished with a rather rebellious fastening over his shoulder blade before pressing lips against her warm temple. ¡°The Conqueror waits not even for the gods of the Skytops, you know that.¡±

    The woman, who looked several years older than Asho¡¯s twenty, swallowed her response. The blonde watched Asho lean down and tie his sandals before asking. ¡°What do you think the Conqueror wants with you?¡±

    Asho glanced up from where he was admiring his reflection in the bronze of his legionnaire helmet. His hands ran across the cracking leather of its cavern. ¡°I¡¯m heir to the empire.¡±

    ¡°The Conqueror named you heir?¡± The stranger propped her head up with an elbow, her brown eyes gleaming hungrily.

    ¡°An heir.¡± He begrudged. Asho raised an eyebrow at his disheveled reflection before settling the helmet at his hip. He cleared his throat, suddenly flushed. ¡°About this.¡±

    The woman¡¯s flush spread through her entire body. ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡±

    Asho coughed into his hand. ¡°I¡¯ll see to it that you are brought back to Aegtrys discreetly, Talia.¡±

    ¡°Talia? TALIA!¡± The woman sat up enraged, her tiny fist strangling the blanket. ¡°That¡¯s my sister¡¯s name!¡±

    So that¡¯s why she looked so familiar.

    Asho narrowly ducked her shoe and turned on his heels for the door. He tilted his head back in the office as not-Talia angrily reached for her stola. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again?¡±

    ¡°Seriously!¡± Not-Talia screeched.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that for a no.¡± Asho slammed the door shut.

    ¡°YOU ARE A WORTHLESS DOG!¡± Came the muffled outburst, followed by another thud, as if she had thrown her other shoe. ¡°CURSE YOU, YOU BASTARD! I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I¡¯M GOING TO-¡±

    The bench of oarsmen stared at him agape, oars stilled. Asho straightened and marched past as Not-Talia continued screaming. Above deck, he sidestepped around a pair of neptori hosting the ship¡¯s massive sail and ran towards the bow.

    ¡°Ronas! Ronas!¡± He hissed.

    ¡°What?¡± The man asked irritably. ¡°Why do you look like you just met the Maiden herself?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just had my royal person threatened by Not-Talia.¡±

    ¡°Not Talia?¡± Ronas asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s. Not. Talia.¡± Asho enunciated.

    Ronas blinked twice. ¡°Oh. Sisters? Twins, maybe?¡± Asho recoiled as Ronas asked. ¡°Did you not get her name?¡±

    ¡°Are you even listening to anything I¡¯m saying? That woman just threw her shoe at my head?¡±

    ¡°Well, my prince.¡± Ronas appeared almost meek. ¡°Does it truly matter?¡±

    ¡°Of course it matters!¡±

    ¡°No, I just.¡± Ronas sighed. ¡°You will not have the woman hanged for throwing a shoe. Besides, we both know these escapades are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not say it.¡± Asho held up a finger.

    ¡°Heard.¡± Ronas nodded. ¡°The shore¡¯s ahead my prince.¡±

    Asho peered past the older sailor and towards the shimmering white cliffs of Aegtrys. A cluster of small islands broke from the sea and shot into the sky. At the tops of the reflective white rock, lush greenery nestled against the marble and along the terra-cotta roofs of buildings. Nearly afternoon, the polished bronze of the temples and palace encased the capital of the Ashenian Empire into a halo of warm light.

    An empire that would one day be his. Asho¡¯s grip tightened on the leather of his helmet. His gaze lingered on the bridges and walkways that connected the cluster of islands as the oarsmen exerted the last of their energy. Their ship glided past rows of carefully terraced farmland and fisheries towards the northwest harbor. Asho tapped his teeth as their ship entered the bay. The Firefayer was met with two stern guard towers. A guard glanced down at Ronas.

    ¡°Only neptori ships are allowed past this point.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± Ronas hollered up. ¡°This vessel belongs to Senator Trajan Perimar and travels his highness Prince Asho Ashen Ashiphiex.¡±

    The neptori squinted down at them. ¡°I do not see his highness.¡±

    ¡°I am here.¡± Asho stepped forward and raised his voice. ¡°The Conqueror has summoned me. It is best not to delay the matters of the empire.¡±

    Asho couldn¡¯t tell for sure, but the neptori seemed to visibly pale. ¡°Very well.¡±

    There was a groan of heavy machinery as the net was lowered. As they sailed past, Asho glanced down at the algae covered rungs as they sunk into the bay. The Firefayer glided past the shipyard of newly constructed triremes and past the outgoing ships of the first neptor.

    The Firefayer docked beside the Serpent. Asho openly glared up at the large pristine warship and its proud purple sails before directing his disdain down the gangplank. Just as he had suspected, his cousin was waiting. Asho inwardly groaned: if Admrilia had been also summoned from her post blockading the silver islands, this meeting with the Conqueror was more than a request.

    Admrilia¡¯s sandal tapped as Asho took his time disembarking. Her permanent scowl deepened as he offered a careless smirk, knowing how much she despised wasting time. Her obsidian eyes hardened as she searched Asho¡¯s frame for an untucked layer of cloth. As usual, Admrilia was effortlessly composed: her armor spotless, weapons neat. She had changed her hair since he had last seen her; her raven locks pulled tightly against her scalp in a series of headache inducing braids.

    Standing next to him, Asho¡¯s cousin equaled him in height and build¡ª it paid to have a general as your father and the genetics of the Conqueror coursing through your veins. In a cruel twist of fate, the cousins shared a birthday, and worse still, Admrilia had been born mere minutes earlier. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Admrilia¡¯s thin mouth twisted upward. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±

    ¡°I went to enjoy the ocean breeze¡±

    Admrilia narrowed her eyes. ¡°Whose ship is that?¡±

    ¡°My uncle lent it.¡± His cousin grunted, unconvinced. Asho stifled a yawn as his neptori formed an honor guard. Hopefully their helmets could hide their building hangovers.

    ¡°The Conqueror summoned me.¡± Admrilia¡¯s cool voice had a grating quality on Asho¡¯s ears, which was that it barely ever changed pitch. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you could make the time for him, cousin.¡±

    ¡°I aim to please.¡± They moved down the wooden walkway and deeper into the cove. Around them, the contained chaos of construction was evident at every turn. Large timbers of pine were heaved on ramps towards the noisy shipyard. Laborers marched to their morning stations, scraping off the ice that had formed the previous spring evening. At the end of the cove, their neptori handed the pair off to four of the palace¡¯s awaiting centori.

    Asho¡¯s men turned back towards the Firefayer. Asho was confident that Ronas could sooth Not-Talia and smuggle her back into Aegtrys undetected.

    ¡°You need to respect your position.¡± Admrilia admonished after the centori had moved out of earshot. Their guides led the climb up the weathered ladders back up the steep cliffs.

    ¡°I respect my position as much as a man respects his lovers.¡± Asho quipped.

    ¡°Of which you have none¡ª¡±

    ¡°That you know about.¡± Asho bit his tongue as they reached the top of a ladder¡¯s rungs. He heaved himself onto the dirt path. Asho wanted to punch his own teeth in as Admrilia¡¯s abyss-like eyes widened.

    Admrilia darted her attention towards the four centori. ¡°So the rumors of your exploits are true.¡± She said quietly.

    Asho continued on the trail. ¡°Why? Are you jealous you weren¡¯t invited?¡±

    The murderous growl Admrilia emitted made Asho quickly step back from the cliff she was about to push him over. ¡°Enough.¡± She snapped. ¡®How would your betrothed react to such talk?¡±

    ¡°Ah yes, princess-¡± Asho drew a blanch for the name of his betrothed, the fourteenth child of the Pi-Yenjan Emperor. He had not seen the princess since two summers ago for his eighteenth birthday, when a delegation had come to Aegtrys to pronounce their upcoming union. Which was, by far, the worst birthday gift ever.

    ¡°Princess Iriku.¡± Admrilia supplied. Her shoulder drilled into his back. Asho spluttered as he stumbled towards the ledge. ¡°It¡¯s best you remember it.¡±

    Asho opened his mouth, but it was clear that Admrilia was done talking. He followed her broad shoulders up another switchback before they arrived at the lift. He squeezed in between the giant centori as they rang the bell. As their platform was hoisted up the final cliff, Asho watched the figurines of the ships and men in the harbor shrink below his feet.

    The lift dropped them at the sharp marble walls of the back gate. The Emperor¡¯s sprawling palace sat at the Northernmost point of Aegtrys¡¯ largest island, its slanted marble walls tall enough to be noticed miles off at sea. The centori, the elite honorary guard of the Emperor himself, manned the barricaded gates at all hours of the day. They were cleared through. Admrilia marched through the greens of olive trees and cultivated wild flowers with little interest. Her pace quickened as they passed underneath a shady portico and into the towering palace.

    Although early, the lower floors bustled with magistrates and nobles who quickly stopped and showed their respect. It was far to early for Asho to car. He suffered the throb of his burning calves as Admrilia outpaced him up four flights of stairs. Asho swallowed his panting breaths as they stopped outside the intricate brass doorway of the Conqueror¡¯s private quarters. He straightened his spine. Their guards stepped aside and they were ushered into the atrium.

    The Conqueror¡¯s atrium was an imposing, rectangular room, the walls whitewashed with elegant murals depicting horses rising from the Semperimar and chariots stampeding over fallen enemies. Rugged blue paint outlined the doorframes of hidden chambers. Against the far wall, two grizzled centori stood in lockstep outside the Conqueror¡¯s study. Their long spears brushed against the low ceiling while their outer hands rested a hair¡¯s breadth away from the Conqueror¡¯s prized hunting dogs. Their tall ears perked up at their arrival.

    The back wall featured tightly packed alcove shrines to the lars ¡ª the family ancestors. Incense were lit in offering. Asho soured as he overlooked one figurine in particular¡ª but the Conqueror quickly demanded his attention.

    He sat hands folded in his lap on a short bench at the foot of the atrium¡¯s pool. His head rose; his mouth a thin, ever unsatisfied line. Today, he was outfitted in billowy purple robes and was barefoot. The Conqueror was cusping the edge of his seventh decade and it showed; streaks of white hair layered like stray strands of wheat against his skull. The skin of his forearms were folded like the the thick papyrus sheets of a sea ledger; and while his legs were covered in sunspots and scars, they still retained the lean muscle of a much younger man.

    ¡°Glorious day to enjoy the waves, is it not?¡± His sturdy, commanding voice jolted Asho and he met his eyes. The Conqueror¡¯s eyes were piercing black, blacker than the very depths of the Semperimar. They saw all, missed nothing, rattled even the most fortitudinous of enemies. Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex undeniably possessed the eyes of a god. They peeled back Asho¡¯s nakedness; his weakness; until Asho¡¯s throat was nothing but a gutted fish carcass.

    Admrilia replied cooly. ¡°It is indeed. Thank be to the Stormlord.¡±

    ¡°Come.¡± He commanded.

    They marched around the wide pool that separated the atrium. The prince kissed the Conqueror¡¯s knuckles first, lips rubbing against scar tissue. The Conqueror¡¯s nose scrunched when Asho rose, and he shuddered with embarrassment.

    The Conqueror¡¯s focus burned into the entryway of the atrium as if he could envision his collective territories spread out before him. ¡°The Fourth Triumph approaches.¡± He said in his usual measured tone. ¡°Guards, the items.¡±

    Asho swiveled his head to watch the older centori retreat to the back office. They returned with bundles covered in cloth. Asho accepted an awkwardly shaped package, his curiosity bordering on concern as the centori exited the atrium.

    The Conqueror waited until the door was locked. ¡°Go stand to the north and south.¡±

    Asho backtracked to the northern lip of the pool and stared down at the sprawling map of the Ashenian Empire in vibrant ceramic tiles. It featured the names of every noteworthy territory and city in blocky Sheni script. Some, like the coastline, spanned centuries back. Others were fresher, only fifty years old, thanks to the Conqueror. Asho felt a surge of pride as he envisioned his own conquest; perhaps to the North, or further West, and the honor that awaited him.

    Atesh slid off the bench and knelt. His fingers reverently trailed the red script above Aegtrys before leaping out towards the continent. When the Conqueror began barking out the all too familiar myth, Asho painted his face neutral.

    ¡°In the beginning, mother Skytops bore fire children for herself. First, she crafted Thrysne from the black salty tears of her loneliness. Next, she molded her daughters: Sachmis, from the heat of her palms; Inusgi, from the lining of her stomach: and Ceolymne, from the enamel of her teeth. Finally, for her youngest Apki she gifted her tongue.¡±

    The Conqueror leaned over the lip of the pool and trailed the nearest ridge of the Skytops¡ª the mountain formation that separated the edge of his empire from the barbaric tributary of Thrys. ¡°And yet, Mother Skytop¡¯s children did not stir. The goddess called out to the Wyrd¡ª the dark abyss of the heavens, and anchored the sky to herself.¡± Asho scrunched his nose and quickly recovered at Admrilia¡¯s sharp glare. ¡°... and the gods awoke.¡±

    This, Asho knew already. He half listened as the Conqueror talked, counting the number of dolphins on a nearby column. His arms burned from the bundle he carried.

    ¡°Hunger grew in the heart of Apki, and he weaved lies to his sisters. Together tye plotted to break free from their mother. One night the four gods climbed to the highest peak where their fingertips could barely brush against their father¡¯s skin. Apki punched against the heavens shattering fragments that dropped to the earth in comets of great fire. Thrysne rose form his slumber and ran swiftly up the mountain, leaping in front of his siblings to protect the union of earth and sky.¡±

    The Conqueror¡¯s voice dropped an octave. ¡°Apki punched Thrysne into the dark waters far from their home. The others escaped Mother Skytops in all corners of the world, carrying the fragments of their father with them.¡±

    The Conqueror rose and stepped into the shallow pool. Crystalline water rushed to his bare ankles. He made an unfolding motion, and the cousins quickly untied their bundles.

    ¡°Inusgi went south to the flatlands and planted a piece of the sky. The star nourished the soil and crops grew.¡± Admrilia hastened to put a loaf of rye bread in the middle of Sugia Territory.

    ¡°Sachmis fled west and swallowed her stolen star. It poisoned and twisted the once beautiful goddess¡¯ body. She retched flames over the land, scorching it and contorting its people.¡± The Conqueror pointed to Ker with disgust as Admrilia lowered a slab of sandstone.

    ¡°Ceolymne traveled north to a land of snow and ice. She buried a pierce of the sky so deep that it touched and awakened the dead.¡± The prince knelt and placed the wolf skull in the water. The Conqueror¡¯s voice sharpened. ¡°Apki found home in the hills, and used the wyrd to shield themselves within a cloak of darkness. Thus the life of traitors and those who dwell in his forests.¡± Asho placed the cedar log down on Iornore Territory and rose to meet the Conqueror¡¯s displeasure. Sweat trickled down his back.

    ¡°Thrysne emerged from the waves of the Semperimar, angry and agonizing for mother Skytops. He longed to return home, but his legs were lodged in the seafloor. In his palm was a piece of the stars he had tore from Apki as he fell. After a time, Thrysne claimed the sea as his domain. He searched for his cowardly siblings. His sisters would mock him from the shoreline, and his brother would hide in his forests. But still Thrysne the Stormlord vowed to avenge the murder of his father.¡±

    The Conqueror tilted his head upward at the open ceiling. His weathered hands rose to his neck, unclasping a silver chain. For all of Asho¡¯s training, the sight of the stone turned his bones to clay. ¡°Is that?¡± He asked, unable to finish his sentence.

    A geode was fastened to the silver chain the size of an infants fist. Its edges were dark and pockmarked, like the dark volcanic rock that ran along Aegtrys¡¯ shoreline. The geode was cracked open, revealing a polished slice of otherworldly meteorite¡ª a frozen tide of unearthly blue.

    The Conqueror nodded. ¡°The wyrdstone. Yes. It is time for both of you to embrace the truth of our empire¡¯s success.¡± Asho was enraptured by the wyrdstone. A true piece of the stars. He was so close to the star that Asho could swear he could hear it hum. He could nearly curl the wyrdstone in his fist, raise it high above his head at the front of an approaching army, use it to call forth a storm, whisper the language of gods and men.

    With the wyrdstone, Asho could become a god.

    Atesh the Conqueror observed his heirs cooly as they salivated over the wyrdstone. ¡°My sons and daughters¡¯ connection to the wyrd was not strong enough to hold this star. Even your fathers,for all of their promise, could never wrestle the power of the mighty Stormlord.¡± His lips tightened somewhat, as if betrayed by one dead son and another living with paralyzing guilt. ¡°Now, only the two of you remain. I have decided that you shall both accompany me on the Triumph through the continent.¡±

    Wait, what? Asho thought quickly, his eyed darting from the wyrdstone up to the Conqueror. He was actually going?

    ¡°By the end of the year, I shall decide which of you will be my successor. I will train you in the wyrd, but there is no guarantee that either of you will show any promise.¡± He allowed his words to resonate. ¡°After the others, I thought it was best that neither of you have access to the wyrdstone before adulthood. But it is time. The Stormlord is a powerful god, and one must earn his mercy to use his gift.¡±

    This lecture was unlike the countless others. The seriousness of the situation began to settle over him as the Conqueror looked them over each in turn. Asho straightened his spine. Admrilia¡¯s eyes were greedy and animalistic. She looked ready to run Asho through with a spear then and there and be done with it.

    ¡°I will only consider you if you pledge your lives to the Stormlord. It is an oath that all of my children have sworn before you.¡± The Conqueror grew solemn. ¡°It is an oath were we must allow our god to lead our path and allow the injustices of our enemies to spur us onward. Whether to the South, or the West, the North, or even the East¡ª¡± The Conqueror gathered teh objects and placed them in the center of the pool in a meticulous cairn: stone, wood, bread, bone. ¡°We swear to overcome all others and instill order.¡± His palm lowered the wyrdstone onto the pile.

    ¡°Conquest is sacred. Our sky cannot brook two suns, nor earth two masters.¡±

    Asho took a half step back as the pool¡¯s still water began flowing towards the sandstone. The water ran up the cairn of cedar and rye. The Conqueror¡¯s dark eyes narrowed as the pool rose to meet his fist. The snap was so violent it took Asho a moment to register what had happened as the pillar shattered into hundreds of ice shards. The water receded. Bone fragments floated towards Asho¡¯s feet.

    ¡°So now-¡± The Conqueror¡¯s voice floated in and out of Asho¡¯s ear as the wyrdstone consumed his attention. ¡°It is time for you both to pledge your lives to Thrysne. May our great Stormlord bestow you with his gift, and see you as worthy as a champion for his great people. As the Semperimar is the Salt and Sea of our blood, you shall vow to fulfill the legacy to the Stormlord until your dying breath.¡±

    Atesh the Conqueror took a stiff step towards the prince. His weathered fingers unclasped Asho¡¯s fingers and curled them around the wyrdstone.

    The wyrdstone was frigid, colder than a northern icelake. The cold seeped through his raw skin and plunged its teeth straight into the bones of his hand. Numbness spread down his arm. Asho clenched his chattering teeth.

    The Conqueror¡¯s wet fingers pressed against his sternum. The bitter cold pierced his center, ice gripping his lungs. Asho gasped out for air in flighty breaths as if he was drowning. And then a powerful, ancient voice resonated deep in his chest. Wyrdling. It intoned. It was not the deep rumbling of the Conqueror. The voice was darker, dangerous, ancient. As if spoken long before Sheni had been uttered. Its inflection crashed and rose with the current and the undercurrent.

    Asho¡¯s aching lungs screamed for air as he sunk into the gyre. He screamed from the Firefayer along the coastline. He screamed as he ran through a forest of cedar trees, laughter ringing through the branches. He screamed as he was handed a bronze helmet with a cracked leather cavern. He screamed, adrift from harbor, as the tall figure of the Conqueror turned back to shore. He screamed at the shroud of a missing body. He screamed as he trailed clay horsemen around the ridges of the Skytops, the plateaus of valleys, and drove his armies forward into the Dunelands as his father and the Conqueror argued behind the closed door of the study. He screamed the one phrase he knew since he could run alongside his father¡¯s tanned legs. He screamed as he was born: to the stars! To the Stars! To the Stars!

 II. The Raider at Dusk

    The sand stretched into the golden haze of the late afternoon and simmered there. Nia-Uro scanned the horizon for the faintest hint of green or blue; the angularity of a structure; overhead for the wingspan of a vulture; and was met with cloudless skies. Goraning, she dismounted and dug around her satchel. She laid the papyrus taut against Ajaxi¡¯s flank. With practiced precision, she marked the dead end with charcoal.

    ¡°The Dunelands claim us all.¡± She muttered to her horse as she restored her supplies. Nia vaulted back into the saddle and closed her amber eyes. Goddess, every blasted day was getting longer the further she traveled into the dangerous Dunelands, and with every passing night she had less to show for it. The rhythmic sound of Ajaxi¡¯s hooves lulled her to sleep as he backtracked east.

    Her chin hit collarbone. Her legs scrambled for purchase as Ajaxi bucked her. She fell head first into the ridge. Nia¡¯s hands rushed to gain purchase as she rolled down the ridge. Nia closed her eyes; dizzy from the sky and earth bleeding together. It was not the first time she had fallen down a dune. She just had to wait until her body ¡ª

    THUD!

    ¡°Huuuuuuuuuuugh.¡± The air escaped her chest. ¡°Yup.¡± Nia hissed ¡°that was it.¡± She gingerly rolled onto all fours, coaxing dust from her lungs. Wiping her lips, Nia craned her head up to Ajaxi. Her horse glowered back down from the top of the ridge. ¡°Would it kill you to watch where you are going?¡±

    The dusty colt huffed and shook his head. He took a cautious step down the sheer ridge.

    ¡°Fucking donkey.¡± Where even am I? Nia¡¯s fingers met unnerving smoothness as she moved to rise. Curious, she swept with her sleeve to reveal packed mud brick. ¡°Holy Skytops, Lady of the Dunes.¡± Nia observed her crash site slowly, realizing that she had fallen into a shaft. Nia pressed her fingers against the brick, prying it loose. The brick fell away into the earth. Nia rose and kicked a few of the surrounding bricks, almost gleeful as the earth ate them. Only one thing to do now, it was time to dig.

    It was nearly dusk when Nia-Uro peered into the dark and disgusting tunnel that dropped into the unknown. Ajaxi watched curiously from the shade as she walked over to grab a torch and rope out from her satchel. ¡°You coming?¡± She asked.

    Her horse shook his brown violently back and forth.

    ¡°Coward. Your butt wouldn¡¯t fit anyway.¡± Ajaxi jutted his head towards the opening, as if daring her. Nia stuck out her tongue and tied her guide rope securely at the entrance of the cave in. If this was another barren sand trap, the day was wasted. Nia lit the torch and peered into the tunnel. ¡°Here goes.¡± She muttered, dropping the torch. It gave an anti-climatic tap-tap. Nia ensured her rope was secure and began her descent: legs first, then turn, grabbing the broken wall for purchase before climbing down. Her sandals quickly met rock. Flushing, Nia knelt down and grabbed for her torch. She ran it close against the brick walls, following the tunnel until she arrived to a frieze of lotus columns. The kiyr naming seal was a dead giveaway she had stumbled upon a tomb.

    The brick that would have originally closed the tomb had long been destroyed. Nia moved underneath the freeze and further into tunnel, hopping that whatever she was about to find hadn¡¯t already been plundered. Rock snagged her braid as she shuffled through the narrow channel.

    She entered the antichamber. Breathlessly, Nia rubbed her irritated eyes and the air escaped her lungs. She tiptoed forward around flipped crates and tables. Although the tomb appeared to have been ransacked, whoever had been here was clearly spooked, as the small cedar tables were piled high with gold plated houseware and valuable jewelry. Nia bent over a bowl and ran a few golden shras, the currency of the old kingdom, through her filthy hands and right into her pocket.

    She had come across an incredible tomb filled with enough treasure to pay the Conqueror¡¯s tribute for years. Nia had to reach up and pinch the relieved smile to ensure she was not dreaming. Emboldened, she pushed through the antichamber in a weightless trance, enamored by the sheer mass of it all.

    The burial chamber was circular, the domed ceiling long painted with five sided stars. At the other end was a small alcove with an upright coffin. Nia waved her torch in front of the death portrait. The stony gaze of a young man looked right through her. The artist had replicated the man¡¯s countenance perfectly; from the prideful glint in his warm eyes to the thoughtful line of his lips.

    ¡°Who were you?¡± Nia wondered.

    The death portrait extended down to the torso. In the dead man¡¯s hand was a set of writing utensils and a reed staff. A scribe them. A hawk¡¯s wings spread across his bare chest. Nia gulped, suddenly realizing what his aker had been.

    He was lucky to have been born, before the Conquering.

    Shame flared in her gut, hot and familiar. Would this man be ashamed that is descendants were no longer rulers but the ruled? That his kin were but a shadow of a once powerful kingdom?

    Nia abruptly pushed the thought away. The man was in the oasis now. It was not his concern that her family was useless, honorless. If anything, she should be responsible, put her sentiment aside and raid the tomb for all it was worth.

    Nia tore her eyes away from the portrait and to the weapons laid out on the altar in front of the death portrait. There was a bow with two quivers full of splintering arrows, as well as the man¡¯s rotting reed staff. Nia took a step closer to examine the bow and shrieked at the snapping sound underfoot.

    Nia reared back her boot and squatted to see what she had squashed. Half hidden in the dust was a shriveled and now crushed remnants of a hand. Nia wiped the surrounding area with her sleeve, noticing the long dead fingers were curled around something. Nia blew away the dust to reveal the hilt of the most brilliant knife she had ever seen. ¡°By the lady¡¯s golden tits.¡± Nia swallowed bile as she carefully pried the knife out from the dead man¡¯s grip and held the weapon up to the torch.

    She turned the blade over slowly. Front tip to hilt it was about the length of her forearm. It was well balanced, finely crafted; the dagger¡¯s hilt was copper, with a cracked leather grip. Nia ran a finger along its razor-sharp edge. The blade was made of a material that was almost obsidian, but harder, and free of nicks. A gold cobra reared it head across the blade¡¯s surface, scales refracting gold and orange in the torchlight.

    Painted eyes burned into her hand. How a weapon that rivaled even the best of Ashenian steel arrived here was beyond her, but Nia was not in the business of asking questions of the dead. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not like you need it.¡± Nia whispered, flipping the dagger over and shoving it in her belt.

    Nia ducked back down, searching for the rest of the hand¡¯s body. But all she found in the sand was a slender lamp, similar to the oil lamps used in De-Asha¡¯s dingy pleasure houses. The handle snaked from a thin lid to the body with a flattened indentation. The lid bore ancient kiyr symbols inside an ovular naming seal. Nia¡¯s contact in the market would pay a stiff price to own the antique. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Nia raided the remainder of the antichamber with her back to the burial chamber. Her hands methodically stacked coins, jewelry, and funerary statues into the narrowest crates she could find. She took her first trip through the narrow passage. Sweating, Nia transferred the remaining two crates.

    Planting her feet squarely, Nia heaved a crate over her shoulders and gritted it above her head to the surface. There was a soft clink as the items spilled over. Nia was struggling to throw the third and final crate over her shoulders when Ajaxi neighted in warning. Nia climbed the rope to the surface and gasped at the sight of the raider.

    ¡°Hya! Get away from my horse!¡± Nia sprinted towards the attacker.

    The raider startled and turned slowly, raising his hands. The thief was dressed in filthy travelers robes: the purples, indigos, and reds of his sleeves faded and fraying. He seemed older, easily a decade her senior. Sweat slicked black hair was covered by a stomped geometric hat. His thin eyebrows pitched in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re a woman!¡±

    ¡°Thank you for stating the obvious, thief!¡± Nia brandished her torch. ¡°Now get away from the horse.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t particularly feel like doing so.¡± His voice carried the effortless lilt of a Duneland¡¯s dialect Nia couldn¡¯t quite plate. ¡°I rather liked him.¡±

    ¡°I liked him first!¡± Nia retorted, immediately furious with herself for getting into a fruitless argument with a raider. Nia glanced around his square shoulders. He had no horse, no camel. How did he get here? Did he walk?

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m here now. So he¡¯s mine.¡± The man hiked into her saddle with some difficulty.

    ¡°Ajaxi.¡± She barked. The colt bucked, throwing the man. Nia advanced. ¡°You¡¯re pretty unqualified for a raider.¡±

    The stranger rose, his scarf now askew from his neck, exposing wind scarred cheeks and thin lips. ¡°And you are the most unpleasant member of the fairer sex I¡¯ve ever had the displeasure of setting eyes on!¡± He roared. ¡°And for your information woman I am a peddler, not some lowlife raider.¡± He kicked sand at her.

    ¡°Right.¡± She said slowly. ¡°So you are but a peddler stuck in the middle of the Dunelands, with no gear or supplies, trying to steal my horse?¡± Her lip threatened to quiver upward.

    ¡°I never said I was a good peddler!¡± The stranger¡¯s voice lifted in exasperation. The stranger sidestepped her and backtracked towards the tomb entrance. Nia tensed as the stranger rummaged around the spilled crates.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Shh.¡± He tisked. The stranger pulled the oil lamp and held it up. ¡°Here!¡± He thrust it towards her. ¡°Want to rub it? I¡¯ve heard it¡¯ll bring good fortune.¡± His thin eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

    ¡°That is not yours.¡±

    ¡°Well, its not yours either.¡±

    Nia watched the thief in silence, torch wavering, as he continued to wipe at the cracked lamp. ¡°Stop that. It¡¯s pathetic.¡±

    ¡°Not as pathetic as a tomb raider.¡±

    Her cheeks heated. ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡±

    ¡°-so shameful-¡± He chided.

    ¡°-a tomb-¡±

    ¡°Honestly! What would your ancestors say?¡±

    ¡°Raider!¡± Nia finished. ¡°And don¡¯t be a hypocrite. You just tried to steal my horse.¡±

    ¡°There is a difference between robbing the living and the dunes themselves.¡± The strangers sing-song voice now brimmed with threat. ¡°Tell me, if your family found out, would they cut off your hand or exile you and be done with it?¡±

    Her cheeks grew hot. ¡°You speak nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Truth is not nonsense. For the truth is I am but a lost merchant in this vast sea of sand.¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡± Nia muttered.

    The man gestured around the dusty abyss. ¡°I must have wandered off the pathia some time ago.¡±

    Nia¡¯s head jilted upright at the ancient kiyr word. ¡°Where were you coming from?¡± Hope, flimsy and unguarded, surged through her chest. ¡°Was it Aker-San?¡±

    The stranger snorted. ¡°Why would I go to Aker-San? The food is terrible.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been there?¡± Nia could hardly believe her ears. She was actually talking to someone (admittedly, not the most trustworthy source) who had been to Aker-San.

    The stranger waved his hand dismissively and stood. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where I¡¯ve been, only where I¡¯m headed. Speaking of which, do you know where we are?¡±

    ¡°The Dunelands.¡± Nia deadpanned.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± The stranger responded in an equally condescending tone.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where I¡¯m headed, only where I¡¯ve been.¡± Nia smirked as her eyes detected his motions of strangulation directed at her throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. Where are you going?¡±

    Nia sighed. ¡°De-Asha.¡±

    ¡°Take me with you!¡± Gone was the bantering merchant, his jaw clenched with resolve as he thrust out the lamp. ¡°Please! I¡¯ll give you the lamp. It¡¯s a very nice lamp.¡±

    ¡°I already took that!¡±

    The man threw himself down in front of her, raising his hands in deference. ¡°Honorless raider, wait! Wait! I¡¯ll pay you for your trouble. I have gold.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s also mine.¡± Nia said humorlessly.

    The merchant cocked his head to the side. ¡°Fine. you strike a hard bargain raider. There is nothing material that I can give you. That is, that you haven¡¯t already stolen. But surely there must be something I can give you in return for your guidance out of this desert!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not some guide.¡± But Nia closed her mouth quickly. Even if he¡¯s a liar, he¡¯s your only lead. Was he really worth the risk. Her mind circled around the possibility. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do it. But I want information.¡±

    The merchant¡¯s smile was saccharin. ¡°Name your terms.¡±

    ¡°I get you to De-Ahsa¡ª¡±

    ¡°-alive.¡± The stranger shrugged. ¡°I thought it was important to point out.

    ¡°Alive.¡± Nia amended. ¡°And in return you will tell me, truthfully, everything you know about Aker-San.¡±

    The stranger nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Very well, I agree. Thank you, thank you! Oh the Goddess has smiled upon me this day by granting me, wait, I just realized I don¡¯t know the name of my guide. What should I call you, tomb raider?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a, forget it. My name is Nia-Uro.¡±

    ¡°Nia Uro!¡± He said with surprise. ¡°My how the mighty have fallen if one of their own is out here.¡±

    He has no idea. Her cheeks flushed. ¡°Enough. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I am but a peddler, a wandering merchant, a feather in the breeze of life.¡±

    ¡°Right. Peddler it is.¡± Nia swallowed her mounting irritation as the aker stirred. For once, she and the monster were in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll camp here tonight and ride at dawn.¡±

    The sun had long set when the Peddler unfurled his lean body onto his geometric robes and fell asleep. Nia gathered the grave goods and neatly stacked the crates beside Ajaxi, tying them down to keep them secure for the night. She peered back to the tomb longingly. There was no way she could clear out the rest with her new companion. Nia marked the placement of the tomb onto her map before storing her supplies. Her head turned westward, towards Aker-San¡ª the land of new beginnings¡ª and the opposite direction of where she was headed.

 III. The Prodigal Daughter of the Empire

    Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex blew air slowly out of her nostrils as the coughing turned into a desperate, wheezing hack. She swallowed her seething irritation as the ancient treasuer coughed up a lung. He¡¯s ruining my moment. Admrilia darted a discrete look up from the green and turquoise mosaic of the Stormlord. General Hortus, her father, loomed behind the Conqueror, his bear-like hands gently gripping the laurel wreath that should have already been place atop her head to awe-inducing applause. That was, if not for Trajan Perimar being obstinate and attempting to die at her promotion. Honestly, it was as bad as when Asho farted at their joint twelfth birthday celebration.

    The treasurer finally had the good decency to live. He whispered sheepishly into his handkerchief. The Senate murmured in uncomfortable second hand embarrassment. Admrilia dared another glance through her hair, now free from its constricting braids, at her father. His thin mouth stated that Perimar was better off dead on the senate¡¯s tiled floor.

    When the Emperor spoke, Amdirlia snapped her eyes back to the tiles. ¡°I, Atesh the Conqueror, Stormlord sired, first citizen of the Ashenian people; Emperor of all it¡¯s lands and seas, call forth the Senate into session!¡±

    ¡°The people answer your call!¡± The Senate parroted.

    The Conqueror¡¯s voice echoed off the marble columns. ¡°The people are gathered here today to commemorate a military triumph. Hail! Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex, captain of the Serpent, destroyer of the Argenti blockade and liberator of the Argyro Islands. Hail! To she who brings the false Argentis king to justice!¡±

    Culus Caestus'' shackles rattled somewhere behind her. He would be guarded by the Conqueror¡¯s centori. Admrilia could just picture the hateful sneer on his face as he was brought to his knees.

    ¡°Stormlord bless this captain and grant her praise!¡±

    ¡°People of Aegtrys cast your eyes upon your pride and glory!¡± The Senate answered.

    ¡°In recognition of the captain¡¯s victory, I, Atesh the Conqueror, call upon the Senate and people of Aegtrys to grant the captain the honorific of ¡®Argenti¡¯. In addition, I hereby grant the Argenti command of the second neptor.¡±

    An entire fleet, hers! And not just any fleet, the fleet responsible for guarding Aegtrys¡¯ coastline. A fleet entrusted with the protection of the Ashenian people. Admrilia¡¯s chest swelled with pride. She dared not to glance up, dared not to search the Conqueror¡¯s dark eyes for acknowledgement or praise. It was duty, not glory, that kept her eyes to the mosaic of the stormlord. She felt, rather than saw, the Conqueror nod to her father. She heard her father¡¯s boots approach. The wreath slid atop her hair.

    Admrilia counted down, allowing the moment to swell, and pushed to her feet. She faced the Senate; dissecting them cooly as they politely clapped. Their faces were drawn tight, as if it was difficult for some to stomach her advancement. Let them. At the age of twenty, she had achieved more in her naval career than any of them would in a lifetime. Admrilia hardened her eyes like the Conqueror¡¯s¡ª so it was the only place they could look.

    And look they should. Once she had proven herself on the Triumph, she would become her grandfather¡¯s successor. She would rise to Empress; leader of their vast territories and peoples. It would be her responsibility, and hers alone, to guide the Ashenians towards generations of continued prosperity. The oath Admrilia had sworn only days ago pressed its cold knuckles against her spine, forcing her taller still.

    Argenti. Admrilia rolled her new name around her mind slowly, sliding the honorific into place. She mirrored her expression to match the Stormlord¡¯s composed marble countenance. Brn the image of her deity into their minds. She was a wyrdling, after all. Let there be no doubt, Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex, the Argenti, was the prodigal daughter of the Empire.

    The Conqueror¡¯s next words threatened to crack her composure. ¡°Culus Ceastus, you are hereby sentenced by the Empire and her people to be placed into the Argenti¡¯s household. You shall be her prisoner for a decade, and shall then be put up for mercy in accordance with our traditions at the next Triumph.¡±

    ¡°So shall be the mercy of the Ashenian people.¡± The Senate echoed.

    Uneasiness, as quick and as fleeting as a hummingbird¡¯s wings, tore through Admrilia. Ashenian Mercy was a tradition she could not rifle with. She should have anticipated this. She had. Hadn¡¯t she? Admrilia had taken out the precaution of cutting out Culus¡¯ tongue. Admrilia frowned, she should have broken his hands too¡­ but no, maybe that would have been to obvious. Besides, you have nothing to hide. The Argenti Islands fell. The details are¡­ irrelevant.

    And Admrilia had told the Conqueror the relevant details upon her return. Like the detail that she had cut out Culus¡¯ tongue because he had called her a whore. That part had been true, so technically, she had not lied to the Conqueror.

    Admrilia stood at attention as her two closest neptori, Flavius and Alexandros, were called forward and given the honor of accompanying Admrilia on the Triumph. A honor which typically was only granted to the Conqueror¡¯s own centori. Admrilia stared steadfast forward, despite the impulse to celebrate with her crew. The Senate adjourned. The Conqueror left the building accompanied by his council, consisting of one member for each of the empire¡¯s five territories accompanied them. Their robed dictated their region: purple for Aegtrys; red for Sugia; pine green for Iornore; white for Thrys; and gold for Ker. A handful of senators followed after them, badgering about Triumph preparations. Stormlord help them.

    The forum was peaceful. Early evening, it was sparsely crowded with merchants. Across the street, scholars sat clustered together on the steps of the library. A group of children chased a dog around a fountain. Admrilia walked beside her father back up the hill towards the palace. The general was silent, nodding occasionally to centori as they approached the massive limestone walls. They were ushered inside the compound and strolled past the passive gardens until finally arriving at their family¡¯s private villa. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    A centori hastened to open the front gate. She followed her father into the atrium.

    ¡°Daughter?¡± Her mother¡¯s voice carried. ¡°We are in here.¡±

    She followed her father into the family¡¯s sitting room. Her mother, Raja-Kai, reclined serenely on a short couch, her dress cascading around her swollen belly. On the rug, her younger sisters; Julia, Lilee, and Hora, looked up from the set of wood and cloth dollies.

    ¡°Hello mother.¡± Admrilia sidestepped around her siblings elaborate setup. Raja-Kai patted the space next to her. Admiral eased herself down onto the cushion.

    ¡°I see it went well.¡± Raja-Kai direct her words at her husband.

    ¡°It did.¡±

    ¡°And the Emperor?¡±

    Her father made a motion that could be perceived as a shrug on a less disciplined man. ¡°Pleased.¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡± Admrilia sked, unable to hide her relief.

    ¡°He expects your victory will allow our navy to regain the silver islands.¡± The general explained.

    ¡°So, pleased.¡± Her mother concluded.

    Her father grunted.

    Lilee pressed up against her knees. ¡°I want to see the wreath!¡± Her sister made grabby motions at her head.

    ¡°Get down, child!¡± Raja-Kai swatted at the eight-year-old. ¡°That belongs to your sister.¡±

    ¡°No fair! I want a leaf!¡± Little Hora crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

    Admrilia looked down her nose at her sisters. They were miniatures of their mother, small and delicate, with warm rusting brown eyes, and silken curls done up in elaborate Ker braids. They had none of her, rigidity. ¡°Well, Hora, if you kill some pirates. You can get one too.¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡± Hora¡¯s eyes turned as big as dinner plates.

    Julia snorted.

    Her mother smacked her arm. ¡°They are children!¡±

    Admrilia frowned as her sisters returned to whacking dollies on the carpet. ¡°What did the healer say?¡±

    ¡°Whose to say?¡± Raja-Kai cupped her belly. ¡°Perhaps the Goddess will bless me with a son.¡±

    Admrilia swallowed clay. ¡°Father would love that.¡± The General could finally have the son he always wanted. ¡°The Conqueror too.¡±

    ¡°It would be a blessing.¡± Hortus admitted. He dragged Hora off of his leg and up onto his shoulders. Her sister dug her tiny fingers into the shells of his ears. Her father met her frown. ¡°All my children are a blessing.¡±

    ¡°More heirs for the Empire.¡± Her mother whispered under her breath.

    ¡°Anyone would be better than Asho.¡± Admrilia sneered.

    ¡°Admrilia.¡± Her mother scolded. ¡°That is unkind.¡±

    ¡°That boy will not be Emperor.¡± Admrilia straightened at her father¡¯s tone. It was the one that led armies. The one she never dare question. ¡°It is up to the Conqueror to decide his successor. No one else.¡± Hortus pursed his lips. ¡°You will have the Triumph to convince the Conqueror of your ability. And may the Stormlord bless you with some aptitude in the wyrd.¡±

    The wyrd. The magic that allowed wyrdlings, descendants of the Skytops, to control various aspects of nature. Admrilia had seen the Conqueror use the wyrdstone, had known of its prized existence since early childhood. She had studied the wyrd in the scholarly sense, had impressed her tutors with her understanding. Countless hours had been spent reading ancient philosophers who hypothesized that the wyrd was the fifth binding element of existence, just as air, water, earth, and fire were. And yet, Admrilia had never felt an iota of connection with the Stormlord¡¯s magic.

    ¡°And if Asho learns it first?¡± Admrilia whispered.

    ¡°Asho does not possess the mental fortitude.¡± Her father dismissed.

    A knot formed in her stomach at the Conqueror¡¯s words: neither of your fathers, for all of their promise, could wrestle with the power of the Stormlord. None of the Conqueror¡¯s eight children had. The oath Admrilia had sworn was more than an oath of duty. It was an oath binding her to the Stormlord, to her death.

    ¡°Of course, father. I misspoke.¡±

    ¡°The Conqueror¡¯s methods are aggressive. But with an iron will you shall overcome.¡± Which was about as close to reassuring as General Hortus ever got. Her father placed Hora gently back down on the rug. He straightened. ¡°You must succeed, Argenti. Ashenia needs a steady hand to lead it. Duty to all.¡±

    Duty to all. Duty to her family, duty to her country, duty to her god. Duty before any of her own selfish needs or desires. Duty was something Admrilia understood to her core. She never had the chance to know anything else.

    ¡°You will prevail.¡± Her mother tapped her neptori breastplate, just above her sternum. ¡°You have powerful blood in your veins.¡±

    Admrilia¡¯s gaze moved to the shelf of the lars. What would make her any different? Even her father, the Conqueror¡¯s only surviving child, was inconsiderable for succession after what happened.

    The General helped her mother to her feet. His blue eyes sparked with conviction. ¡°Next summer my daughter shall return as the future of our nature. Head up Argenti, you will make it so.¡±

    Raja-Kai ushered her siblings out of the room and towards dinner. Admrilia glanced down at the rug¡¯s discarded toys, and when the room had cleared, repositioned the wreathe.

 IV. The Peddler

    IV. THE PEDDLER

    The sun continued its beating as they trekked east. The Peddler was slumped over in Ajaxi¡¯s saddle, muttering in his sleep. Nia had spent the first hour of the afternoon listening intensely to his half-dreams: his wife, pregnant; his city, under attach; before growing sullen and bored. Nia cautioned Peddler an assessing once over. His cap had slid to reveal a sunburnt and blistering scalp. Careful not to wake him, Nia lifted the brim of his cap and peered at his face. His eyes were pinched closed, his cheeks were gaunt, his lips cracked and bleeding. Her stomach pitched as she let go. Threats aside, Nia needed to get the Peddler back to De-Asha so he could fulfill his end of their bargain. Maybe then she could finally stick it to the Legate, navigate the Dunelands, and be free once and for all.

    Nia spotted the outcropping a little after dusk. The sandstone boulders were enclosed on one side by a half crumbled defensive wall. Raiders or merchants had once used the natural cave for shelter, but it had long been abandoned by the time Nia had stumbled upon it. It wasn¡¯t much, but between the large swath of desert between them and the nearest abandoned village, it would have to do.

    THUD.

    Nia nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped her head around. The Peddler had rolled unceremoniously off of Ajaxi. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Peddler crawled onto his hands and knees into the cave. ¡°There should be a spring against the back wall.¡± The echoing gulps confirmed her suspicions.

    Relieved, she set Peddler to refilling the waterskins and dug around in her pack for something to eat. She found a half-eaten pear and some cheese. His flesh was ice cold as he accepted the offering. ¡°Thank you.¡± He slurred.

    Nia left him and moved to the mouth of the cave. She fed Ajaxi and stared out into the Dunelands as she brushed his coat. She considered their possession. They still had days ahead of them. How long¡ª

    Nia grimaced as the aker slammed against her ribs. ¡°Stop it!¡± She hissed. Her eyes slid to Peddler. He was already slumped over. Thank the Goddess for that small mercy. The aker¡¯s next hit robbed her of breath. Her palm flung against her shivering chest as she fell to her knees. She had been well and truly stupid to try to starve off the monster for as many nights as she had. She flattened her hands against her sternum as if she could shove the beast back inside. ¡°Goddess please,¡± she half-sobbed as the aker rammed again. Each hit brought the cave¡¯s floor in and out of focus with royal red sand. The sky grew black overhead. Nia panicked at being pulled back into the Tuat so quickly.

    If she was here, that meant the aker was¡­

    A hot wave of vertigo sent vomit up her throat past razor sharp teeth breaking through bleeding gums.

    She had to hurry.

    Nia threw her shirt overhead and tore off her pants. She half ran, half tripped into the desert. Her feet had just crested the dune when the aker broke free.

    Nia-Uro woke to the smell of burning flesh. Fogginess hung over her thoughts as she rolled over. Her first thought was that everything hurt. Her second, much worse, realization was that her pants and shirt were folded neatly next to her naked body. Nia¡¯s cheeks flamed as she dressed quickly. She followed her nose to the mouth of the cave.

    The Peddler sat back on his haunches nursing a bushfire. ¡°Morning raider!¡±

    ¡°Morning.¡± Nia echoed. She eased herself down across from him.

    The Peddler pointed to her arm. Nia followed his gaze to the three scabbing gashes that ran along her left forearm and up her elbow. Nia raised an eyebrow at the mound, no memory surfacing as to how she acquired it. Peddler turned his makeshift spigot. ¡°I¡¯m guessing the hyena didn¡¯t go down without a fight?¡±

    So that was the smell. Nia¡¯s fingers ran along the ridges of the tender cuts. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Curing the meat you unceremoniously dumped on our doorstep.¡± The Peddler flipped another flank over the coals. ¡°You may be a thief, but would it have killed you to have done a cleaner kill?¡±

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Nia moved to her bags to find something to dress the wound.

    ¡°I woke up to the poor animal with blood pooling from its neck.¡±

    Nia fished around for some linen. ¡°Lazy on my part.¡±

    She missed Peddler crossing his arms. ¡°It¡¯s almost like you took it out with your teeth.¡±

    Nia made a choking sound. She turned, the Peddler assessed her with his strange kaleidoscopic eyes. ¡°You¡¯re kerai, aren¡¯t you? What¡¯s your aker?¡±Nia¡¯s silence was admission enough. She drove her focus into bandaging her forearm. Which was difficult to do one handed, and she refused to ask the Peddler for his help. He watched her struggle for a moment, his eyes glinting. ¡°Come now, it has to be something with teeth.¡±

    Nia¡¯s jaw hurt just looking at the mutilated carcass. ¡°Stop. It¡¯s personal.¡±

    The Peddler waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Please. We are stuck together in the middle of the Dunelands.¡± The Peddler prostrated around the wild abyss for emphasis. ¡°This is exactly the type of secret travel companions share.¡±

    Nia grit her teeth. ¡°Are you kerai?¡±

    ¡°Well.¡± The Peddler dropped the finger he was about to make his next point with. ¡°Not exactly.¡± He pulled a flank off the fire to cool. ¡°Fine then. How old are you? What? It seemed like an innocent enough question!¡±

    Nia inhaled, exhaled. ¡°Twenty-one.¡±

    The Peddler nodded. ¡°You¡¯re not horribly hideous. For a tomb raider, that is. Shame, the Goddess will probably curse you with blindness. I hope your suitors aren¡¯t horribly disappointed.¡±

    Nia snorted. ¡°No one would dare marry into House Uro.¡±

    Peddler beamed. ¡°Then I have no competition for your hand.¡±

    ¡°The only hand you¡¯ll receive is across your face.¡± Nia half-threatened. ¡°Besides, don¡¯t you have a wife?¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you hear about that?¡±

    ¡°You talk in your sleep.¡±

    A shadow crossed Peddler¡¯s face. ¡°Had.¡± He said distantly. ¡°Beautiful woman.¡±

    ¡°The Dunelands claim us all.¡± It was the only consolation she could offer. Nia turned her attention from the travelers glassy eyes and out into the desert. ¡°We need to get moving.¡±

    Three days later, over the last of the hyena, Peddler blurted. ¡°Why is going to Aker-San so important to you?¡±

    Nia raised an eyebrow from across their fire. She had gotten accustomed to Peddler¡¯s incessantly insensitive questions by now: did she always sleep with her mouth open? Did she know her horse couldn¡¯t talk back to her? What parents would allow a daughter to raid? Nia had given half answers once she realized that her companion would not quit. Now though, Peddler had hit on the one question to which the answer Nia kept fiercely hidden.

    Nia gazed around their camp. They were at the bottom of a wide dune and had built their fire within the remnants of a caravaneer''s tent. Nia followed the crackling orange flames as they died against the midnight sky. She scoured the milky constellations as if they held the answers. Which they didn¡¯t. The stars belonged to the Ashenians just like everything below. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Why Peddler, I am but a feather in the breeze of life.¡± She deflected.

    ¡°A feather made of lead.¡± He shook his head. ¡°You are working for someone. Or forced too. I know it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because you keep turning West. Someone has power over you. Who is it?¡±

    Nia frowned. ¡°The Legate sends his men into the Dunelands to raid the tombs and temples.¡±

    ¡°And you are one of them?¡± Peddler asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not so simple. I¡¯m¡ª¡± Nia grimaced. ¡°At his mercy.¡±

    ¡°So you seek freedom. From him.¡±

    ¡°From them. The Ashenians. If I find the Pathia, I can make it to Aker-San.¡±

    ¡°And what of the rest of your House?¡±

    Nia tore at the hyena. The meat was so touch it was nearly inedible. ¡°What of them?¡±

    ¡°Does the rest of your House not deserve to be free? The rest of Ker?¡± At her ensuing silence, the Peddler tilted his head to the moon and let out a pained laugh. ¡°My, how the mighty have fallen.¡±

    Irritation sparked her tongue. ¡°You¡¯re all talk. Uprise, against the Ashenians? There is no fighting the legion, there is no freedom from the Ashenians. They rule us! And they¡¯ll slaughter us as quickly as they did during the Conquering. The only reasonable solution is¡ª¡±

    ¡°--to run.¡± The Peddler finished.

    ¡°I.¡± Nia scowled. ¡°You can call me a coward all you¡¯d like. But the pathia, Aker-San, is the key to my freedom.¡±

    ¡°Listen kid, you can¡¯t find people who don¡¯t want to be found.¡±

    Nia brandished her hyena jerky. ¡°You¡¯ve found them, so clearly they just let anyone in.¡±

    The Peddler¡¯s smile was grim. ¡°That was a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s what I don¡¯t understand. I¡¯ve been searching the Dunelands for four years for remnants of the pathia, and not a settlement past Xur survived the Conquering. Yet you¡¯ve been wandering in this desert. That implies there is people to barter with, places to sleep, water to drink.¡±

    Peddler pushed up the sleeves of his long faded robes. ¡°What of it?¡±

    ¡°You know the way through.¡±

    The Peddler¡¯s lips twisted into a scythe¡¯s razor edge. ¡°Only feathers in the breeze find Aker-San.¡±

    ¡°You will tell me how.¡± And Nia was surprised by the bark of conviction in her voice. ¡°When we get back to Aker-San, our bargain will be complete. You will help me.¡±

    He let out an infuriating ¡°perhaps¡± and the aker¡¯s rage was so swift that Nia catapulted to her feet. Peddler barked out a laugh at her clenched jaw. ¡°You look about ready to kill me. Have the aker bring me something to eat. I tire of hyena.¡±

    Nia stormed from the campsite before the aker could get her claws on her one chance for freedom.

    Nia motioned for the Peddler to dismount. She led him along a small goat trail atop a rocky ridge that overlooked De-Asha¡¯s looming western gate. As the furthest city of the Ashenian Empire, the towering limestone walls guarded De-Asha served as the last barrier between civilization and the desert. Once, these walls would have bore refuge to the navigators and caravaners as they arrived from Xur and Aker-San. The welcomed sight of a long journey finally complete. Now, the limestone walls were lined with purple banners bearing the Ashenian falcon.

    ¡°We will have to get you through the guard station.¡± Nia explained, motioning to the line of laborers shuffling their way through the checkpoint. Thank the Goddess they still had the crates from the tomb stacked tall on Ajaxi¡¯s back. ¡°If anyone asks, you are a digger from the northern necropolis. We¡¯ll have to lose the cap and,¡± Nia side-eyed the colorful robes. ¡°You¡¯ll need to turn those inside out.¡± She held up a finger. ¡°Do not say anything to anyone.¡± And then, our bargain will be complete. Nia thought with relief.

    The Peddler¡¯s kaleidoscopic eyes bore into hers. ¡°I¡¯m afraid this is where we part ways, Nia-Uro.¡±

    Her face betrayed her confusion before anger quickly replaced it. ¡°I did not just risk my life for mine days so that you could abandon me!¡±

    ¡°You would have returned regardless.¡± Peddler dismissed.

    ¡°Is this your philosophical bullshit again?¡± Uneasiness trailed down her spine. They could not separate here! Peddler was her only lead to finding Aker-San.

    ¡°Unfortunately so.¡± Peddler extended his long arm. ¡°Now, before I go, hand over the dagger.¡±

    The dagger? Her fingers flew to her hip. ¡°It is not yours to take!¡±

    ¡°Bold words for a tomb raider.¡± Nia backpedaled as his melodic tone turned sharp. He took a threatening step towards her. ¡°She who stole from the Goddess a shard of her mane.¡±

    ¡°What the damned Skytops are you raving about?¡± Nia¡¯s heel collided with stone. She fell back, landing on her elbows.

    ¡°Blasphemous thief!¡± The Peddler knelt down and pressed his cold nose to hers. This close, his irises were pale, nearly reflective.

    ¡°Return what is owed to the Goddess as I, her akerai, guard deep beneath the dunes.¡±

    Nia had seen the aiea before, the shift between a kerai¡¯s physical body and their spiritual manifestation. The shift between ai and aker was supposed to be as effortless as breathing. Nia had seen her father¡¯s arms meld seamlessly into vulture¡¯s wings; Baset snarl and sprout the ears of a jackal. But the Peddler did not revert in on himself as the aker was freed.

    His muscular torso elongated and stretched. His robes ripped as his arms and back pressed against the seams. His skin¡¯s complexion turned pale and scalene as his legs melted into the body of a great serpent. His nostrils flared as his nose flattened. He loomed over her, half-man, half-serpent.

    Nia¡¯s scream died. The aker petrified within her chest. For the second time in her life, Nia-Uro was certain she was about to die.

    ¡°You realize it now, don¡¯t you?¡± Peddler hissed.

    Nia could not speak the truth into the air, make what she had done real. There was no mercy in the Peddler¡¯s slanted eyes. The Peddler leaned down, his massive hands grabbing her left wrist. How had she not noticed how cold his hands were before?

    Nia squirmed as Peddler¡¯s tail smoothly unsheathed the dagger from her hip and passed it off to his free hand. He wedged her clenched hand open. He held the black blade aloft. Nia thrashed helplessly. He¡¯s going to make me pay for my theft against his tomb! He¡¯s going to cut off my hand!

    Scorching white pain erupted behind her eyelids. Her palm burned. Nia nearly vomited at the sight of her blood blossoming from the deep gash from where the blade had sheared the red muscle of her palm. Her blood pooled around the blade. Without warning, Peddler dislodged the dagger.

    Nia fell back and howled, cradling her wound. Peddler held the dagger up to his nostrils. ¡°Stop sniveling!¡± He ordered. He whispered to himself in hurried Kiyr. His head tilted to the wind. ¡°No! No. She is a tomb raider. A thief! A shame on her House!¡± He hissed. The Peddler affixed his glassy eyes on her, face full of contempt. ¡°You cannot even master your own aker and yet you think, you think you can navigate to the Goddess¡¯ House? A coward like you would be better dead!¡± Each word hit with the full impact of his ire. The Peddler held the dagger close to his mouth and flicked out his tongue. ¡°And yet? Yet! The Skytops play a cruel trick on me.¡± The Peddler¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°Yes. Yes, the thief will be spared.¡±

    The Peddler dropped the dagger at her side. Nia cupped her bleeding palm to her chest as she glanced at the handle. Vertigo shot through her in recognition of the beast running across its surface. ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°What do you think, tomb raider?¡± The Peddler hissed. But his anger seemed to have evaporated. He glanced down at her, seeming perplexed. The enormous snake leaned down and grabbed his now comically small cap. He tilted it over her head.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Peddler slapped his cap a couple times over her hair before holding it against his side. ¡°Goodbye, tomb raider.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± But the Peddler evaporated into sand, punching her squarely in the teeth. Nia instinctively flung her hands up to protect her face. She cried out as granules sunk into her open flesh. When it was over, the Peddler had vanished. Nia tilted her head side to side, scanning up and down the ridge as if he had fallen off. The Peddler was gone.

    An akerai. She thought in wonder. That¡¯s what the Peddler said he was. A tomb guardian of some sort? Nia had never heard of an akerai before. And if she was lucky, she would never encounter one again.

    Nia exhaled through her front teeth as she tried to extend her fingers. Pain shot up her left arm and up into her shoulder. Breathing heavily Nia worked to her feet and took two steps forward in frustration. She swung around, fumbling for her bruised toes and uncovered the Peddler¡¯s half buried lamp. ¡°That bastard!¡± Nia cursed. She gripped the lamp¡¯s thin handle and went to find her horse.

 V. Behind Closed Doors

    V. BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

    The moon hid behind the rain clouds as Asho slunk through the courtyard. Varius¡¯ lips narrowed as he approached. ¡°Master.¡± The old centori greeted. ¡°You have guests.¡±

    Asho pulled up short. ¡°Guests?¡±

    ¡°In the study.¡± Varius stepped aside and allowed Asho into the threshold of his family¡¯s villa. Ghostlike shadows reflected off the pool and up the doric columns of the atrium. Asho circumnavigated the rectangular room as his family¡¯s centori watched him. His household has moved around him like a rock in a stream ever since he returned to Aegtrys two summers ago. It suited Asho better this way, allowing him to come and go as he pleased.

    His stomach grumbled down the private wing of the villa. Light peaked from underneath the doorway of the study. Asho nudged open the cracked door. His uncle noticed him first. ¡°At last the prince gifts us with his presence.¡±

    Asho slid into the study. ¡°Uncle Perimar?¡± He froze at who sat behind his father¡¯s cedar desk. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡±

    ¡°Is that any way to address the Emperor?¡±

    ¡°Senator, please.¡± The Conqueror held up his hand. Asho quickly hissed it. ¡°If you would be so kind as to have your servants bring us some refreshments?¡±

    Asho then noticed his mother slunk back against the bookcase. ¡°Oh, of course.¡± Asho frowned at the smeared kohl that ran down her cheeks to her irritated nose. Her braid had come undone, and clumps of golden hair struck out in every direction.

    ¡°Is everything ok?¡±

    Taj Perimar frowned. Her birdlike hand quickly dabbed at her eyelid. ¡°I¡¯m quite alright son.¡±

    He wanted to say that she did not look fine. After she left, Asho rounded on his uncle. ¡°What upset her?¡±

    Trajan Perimar¡¯s eyes lit at the opening. ¡°You did.¡± From his robes he produced a thick booklet and smacked it with finality down on the desk.

    ¡°Sit.¡± The Emperor commanded. ¡°Your uncle has a matter of great urgency that he wishes to discuss.

    Asho sat. Perimar¡¯s bony finger¡¯s flipped the cover of the Firefayer¡¯s logbook. ¡°This!¡± Trajan began. ¡°Is a.¡± cough. ¡°Matter of¡± cough. ¡°Empire.¡± cough. ¡°Imagine my immediate concern when-¡±

    ¡°Uncle, would you care for some water?¡± Asho¡¯s mother had returned with a servant carrying a pitcher.

    ¡°Why thank you!¡± Perimar waited for the servant to provide them glasses and slip out of the room. ¡°I discovered, quite by accident, that the Firefayer,¡± cough. ¡°My personal vessel had been used for, for, for¡ª¡± Perimar wheezed for air. ¡°A pleasure barge for months! Against my knowledge and trust you took a senator¡¯s ship, threw elaborate youthful foolery and brought.¡± The blood vessels in Perimar¡¯s forehead looked about ready to pop. ¡°Woman beneath your station on board. Nothing more than commonplace¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough Senator.¡± The Conqueror interrupted. ¡°Your niece does not to hear the details.¡±

    ¡°Quiet right! Why imagine my surprise when my nephew.¡± Perimar descended into another violent round of coughing. ¡°Who had been telling me for months that he was being stationed as a neptori.¡± cough. ¡°An honorable position! Was instead doing this, this, self indulgent debauchery on state funds!¡±

    Asho squirmed in his seat as the senator pointed to the ship¡¯s log. ¡°And I only found out when the Livia family requested an audience with me. Why would such a lowly family need to speak to me? I am a busy man. Imagine the shame upon the Perimar name, not to mention that the royal crown, when I learned that my nephew had deflowered not one, but two of their daughters!¡±

    Asho wanted very much to simply die. Yes, death would be much kinder than hearing his uncle say ¡®deflower.¡¯Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Perimar wheezed. ¡°So then!¡± Perimar reached for his water cup. ¡°There was nothing else to do but BRIBE THE LIVIA FAMILY SO WE DON¡¯T CREATE AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT AND DESTROY A TREATY BECAUSE THE PRINCE COULD NOT RESPECT HIS BETROTHED!¡±

    Perimar crossed his arms, his face red. The senator turned towards the Emperor expectantly. The Conqueror had remained silent during the entire flagellation, his gaze digging into his grandson. ¡°Treasuer Perimar is entirely correct.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°And the Perimar family will be compensated for any damages done to the Firefayer and the cost of reestablishing crew.¡±

    ¡®Wait!¡± Asho sat upright. ¡°What about my crew?¡±

    ¡°The Firefayer¡¯s neptori will be dismissed from their post.¡± The Conqueror said. ¡°They will be ineligible to return to service.¡±

    ¡°But this was my idea.¡±

    ¡°The Empire needs men who do not give into their base desires. Senator Perimar.¡± He continued, talking over Asho¡¯s objections. ¡°I am to trust you with your dismissal.¡±

    ¡°It will be done at once.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. Now, you are dismissed.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± Perimar looked as if he had just been ejected a front row seat at the colosseum, and he was very much looking forward to Asho getting eaten alive.

    ¡°I think you for bringing this urgent matter to our attention. I will now speak to the prince alone.¡±

    Perimar nearly slumped. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°If your niece would be kind enough to see you out?¡± The Conqueror asked. Taj Perimar got the hint and helped her elderly uncle out of his chair. Uncle Perimar kissed the Conqueror¡¯s knuckles, grabbed his ledger, and gave Asho a caustic look on his way out.

    ¡°Do you know why we give the public bread and games?¡±

    ¡°Because we are benevolent?¡± Asho ventured.

    ¡°No.¡± The Conqueror shook his head. ¡°Power is far from benevolent. We give the people bread and games and conduct the Triumph every ten years because it is a honied trap. There is nothing wrong with food or entertainment in moderation. Recreation makes life enjoyable. But the obsession with these distractions leads men to sell themselves for their carnal needs. Twenty-four jugs of wine, five roasted pigs, seven dancers, sixteen acrobats, fourteen crates of dates, and twenty, well.¡± The Conqueror ran a finger down the ship¡¯s log. ¡°You degrade yourself.¡±

    After a drawn out moment it was clear he was expected to say something. ¡°I¡¯ve disappointed you.¡± Asho said.

    ¡°You betray yourself.¡± The Conqueror said flatly. ¡°I had hoped that your time in the north would sharpen you. But you have softened, while your cousin has steeled herself. So I suggest, as my second heir, you forge yourself quickly.¡±

    ¡°Does this mean I¡¯m still going on the Triumph.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Despite this, unfortunate, lapse of judgment.¡± The Conqueror frowned. ¡°You will still be married when we arrive to Pi-Yenja. I will find value for you in this empire. Weather it is as a foreign consort or as my successor is up to you to decide.¡± The Conqueror rose and opened the study door. His mother was waiting in the hallway. The Conqueror nodded in her direction. ¡°Thank you for your hospitality.¡±

    ¡°Of course Conqueror.¡±

    The Emperor left with his centori trailing him. Taj Perimar entered the study, wiping her nose. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine mother.¡±

    ¡°It is only natural for a mother to worry.¡± Taj patted his hand and motioned to the door.

    Asho overlooked the dustless room and sighed. ¡°I¡¯m still going on the Triumph. But i will return to you. I promise.¡±

    Raj glanced up from where she was rearranging the seashells from where the senator has disturbed them back into an orderly row. ¡°Your father said that to me as well.¡±

    ¡°Mother¡ª¡±

    ¡°Asho.¡± Her mother beckoned. ¡°Come. I need to lock up.¡± She blew out the candles. In the hallway, Taj pulled the key from her neck and slipped it in the lock, closing the study. ¡°There.¡± She whispered, satisfied. ¡°Goodnight, my son.¡±

    ¡°Goodnight.¡± Asho watched her shuffle down the hallway. He ran his hand along the locked handle, fingers brushing against the grooves of the door.

    Asho¡¯s feet led him to the kitchen. He startled the cook awake. He gave the cook a strained smile as she asked about his day. Asho could hardly tell the woman how he had angered the Conqueror. The cook¡¯s mouth was tight as she handed him bread, cheese, and grapes wrapped in a cloth.

    Asho continued to the middle courtyard, easing himself down on a bench as the clouds broke. He unfolded his dinner. ¡°It¡¯s getting closer.¡± Asho whispered, the nervous excitement hooking around his chest. He didn¡¯t know if he was filled more with relief of dread that the Conqueror was still taking him. Relief, that he had not destroyed his entire future, but dread that he still had a year where he could endlessly mess up. At the very least, he could not wait to go back on the continent, to go North. To reunite with the Ironsides, who had made him feel more whole and home than he had ever felt in Aegtrys.

    He wondered about his own mother, knowing that Taj would not be joining them on the Triumph. Would she spend every night for the next year in the study, whispering his name, praying he would return?

 VI. The Legate

    VI. THE LEGATE

    Titus Crassus Clavo peered one bloodshot eye into the crate and scoffed. ¡°You are gone three weeks, and all you bring me is coin?¡±

    Nia had more than coin. But then the crates had flown from Ajaxi¡¯s back from Peddler¡¯s disappearance. She had spent half the morning bidding with one hand up and down the hillside, only to recover nothing. So, with only the lamp and dagger, neither of which Nia had any plan on turning over to the Legate, she had been forced to return empty handed. And then dig into her personal stash to pay off the Legate.

    ¡°Not every dig is a cave of wonders.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need lip from you, Uro.¡± Clavo¡¯s pale blue iris darted up. ¡°Might I remind you that the Triumph is quickly approaching.¡±

    How could she forget? ¡°Surely there is enough here to pay the tribute.¡± Nia waved her right arm around the storeroom and its meticulously categorized piles. Chariots, armor, weapons, furniture, gold, coin, statues; the crates were stacked to the vaulted ceilings. The storerooms held more tribute than the Conqueror and his legion could ever haul back to Aegtrys.

    Clavo held up a golden shra. ¡°The Conqueror is a god among men. His taste is not,¡± he rolled the coin between his fingers. ¡°Of this earth.¡±

    The Legate dropped the coin and pulled a scroll from his side. He held it out, pointedly ignoring her lacerated hand. Nia¡¯s right hand tightened around the expensive paper, gut clenching as she pried against the wax falcon with her nail. She rolled open the demand, eyes adjusting to the blocky sheni script. ¡°What does this even mean?¡±

    ¡°The lot of you are illiterate swine.¡± Clavo snatched back the papyrus. ¡°This is the Conqueror¡¯s official demands. Nothing I did not anticipate. More enlistment for the legion, further restrictions on the kerai laborers. Parades, feasts, ceremonies for his impending arrival. And that doesn¡¯t even begin to cover the city¡¯s tribute¡ª¡± Clavo shot her a filthy glare. Nia remised, just for a moment, the grave goods in Peddler¡¯s tomb. ¡°The Conqueror has additionally requested the region¡¯s Houses to assemble in De-Asha.¡±

    ¡°Why would he not want to go to Ash-Kai?¡± Nia asked, startled the Conqueror would opt out of holding court in the territory¡¯s capital.

    ¡°I am not privy to the mind of the Emperor.¡± Clavo hissed. ¡°I¡¯ve asked my father but I¡¯ve gotten no response.¡± Ah yes, Clavo¡¯s father, Crassus Ferro Clavo, was the Conqueror¡¯s ambassador to Ker and even crueler than his son. If that was even possible. ¡°The Conqueror,¡± Clavo read on. ¡°Has ordered a chariot race to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of his conquest. Each House will produce two champions¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait? What?¡±

    Clavo looked up from the papyrus. ¡°Each House,¡± he drawled. ¡°Will produce two champions. The Conqueror, meanwhile, will supply his own.¡±

    Nia couldn¡¯t help it. She was exhausted and angry at the Peddler. Angry at returning empty handed. Furious that she had spent a week being duped by a spirit, only for her one chance of freedom to slip through her fingers. Indignant at Clavo speaking to her as if she was a dull child. Her palm and body ached. Nia¡¯s temper flared dangerously hot. ¡°Well what¡¯s your brilliant plan? Shall you strap little Titus to a basket, or should you select my sister?¡±

    ¡°My wife could not stay atop a pack mule to save her life.¡± Clavo grunted. ¡°And as Legate, it would be inappropriate for me to do so. You and your brother will represent this House before the Emperor.¡±

    ¡°Oh, what an honor.¡± Nia muttered sarcastically under her breath.

    ¡°It is.¡±

    Nia sighed. ¡°And if I refuse?¡±

    Clavo reached up past his square jaw and twice broken nose. He used his ringed fingers to flick up the patch. His dead eye twitched. ¡°We both know you can¡¯t.¡± He sneered. ¡°Now get out.¡±

    Nia stormed out from the underground storerooms. She shook with poorly repressed rage. Of course Clavo wouldn¡¯t select some of his lieutenants for the race? Of course her family would be shamed further publicly. She shouldn¡¯t have come back. She should have taken her chances and fled north with Ajaxi. The Peddler¡¯s face flashed in her mind as Nia sidestepped a legionnaire entering the compound.

    At one point, the impressive limestone halls had been the House of the Doorway¡¯s seat of power. It had hosted travelers, foreigners,diplomats and royalty from all corners of the known world. It had been a beacon for navigators and merchants alike. The fortress had been a stronghold for the Kingdom of Ker. Now, it was home to the Ninth Legion. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Her family was housed in the eastern wing of the main house. Tired, Nia did not bother knocking as she slid into Baset-Uro¡¯s rooms. Baset¡¯s head swung up from her reading. Her lips pursed. ¡°I was told you lived.¡±

    ¡°I had to talk to the Legate.¡± Nia said tiredly.

    ¡°Report to him more like.¡± Cythe muttered, bouncing Titus on her lap. ¡°That¡¯s right. Had to go report to Baba.¡± Nia scrunched her nose at her half-sister. Cythe shrugged and released the toddler. He squirmed away from her, taking unbalanced steps across the rug towards Baset. Cythe stood. ¡°It¡¯s been three weeks Nia.¡± Her almond eyes softened. ¡°I nearly went after you.¡±

    She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Cythe meant well, but her sister hardly ever left the compound, much less had gone into the Dunelands. Nia doubted her sister had ever left the city alone. ¡°You know I was fine.¡± Nia offered a grim smile as Cythe embraced her. Her sister was all soft skin and wide curves, beautiful and poised in all the ways Nia wasn¡¯t. Besides the shared amber eyes of their father, they looked nothing alike. Nia was all hard edged and lean, her body honed from long hours in the saddle.

    ¡°And?¡± Baset insisted. Her stepmother leaned forward. While Baset¡¯s skin was unmarked and free from the strain of a laborious life, her face was constantly pinched in worry.

    ¡°The Triumph demands arrived.¡±

    ¡°Of course they did.¡± Baset bit her lip.

    The door opened and the three woman swiveled their heads. It was only Lero. Nia¡¯s half-brother may had only been two years older, but the gap between them had always seemed wider. He entered the room back straight, his black hair cropped short to his scalp just like the Ashenians kept it. Nia was struck by just how much he looked like their father. Expect their father did not wear Ashenian armor.¡±

    ¡°The Legate¡¯s in a mood.¡± Lero greeted. He was a good head taller than Nia, and he stared down at her now, crossing his arms. ¡°What did you do? Did you get him nothing?¡±

    Nia massaged her neck. ¡°Gold shras are not nothing.¡±

    ¡°You were gone for a month and you brought him coin!¡± Cythe¡¯s mouth formed into a small ¡®o¡¯ at their brother¡¯s ire. ¡°Were you trying to incur his wrath?¡±

    ¡°Of course not.¡± Nia said.

    ¡°His rage should not be trifled with. I thought of all people you would understand that.¡±

    ¡°Quiet, brother.¡± Cythe interjected. Their sister was always the peacekeeper. Cythe grabbed Nia¡¯s wrist and held it up, examining her bandaged palm. ¡°This is what we should be concerned with.¡± Cythe peeled back the bloodied bandage. Her eyebrows rose into her braided hair. ¡°Nia! What did you do?¡±

    Nia¡¯s cheeks grew in as Baset and Lero leaned in. ¡°I fell.¡±

    Lero huffed at the obvious lie. Cythe shot him a look of annoyance. ¡°Lero, please.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t fall.¡± Lero said, pointing to her palm. ¡°She was cut. Were you robbed?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. There is no one else out there.¡±

    ¡°Except for the laborers, and the slavers, and the odd mercenary.¡± Lero¡¯s hand rested at the khoshep at his side. ¡°Any one of those people could hurt you.¡±

    ¡°And no one does.¡± Nia said. She was in no mood to tell her brother how she incurred the wrath of a tomb spirit. ¡°But it does hurt horribly.¡±

    ¡°We need to get it cleaned up before you lose the hand.¡± Cythe said. ¡°Come on, you can tell us who robbed you when you are good and ready.¡±

    It was well past midnight when Cythe packed up her kit and bid her goodnight. Nia cradled her stitched palm, freshly bandaged and slathered with salve, close to her chest. She let out a huff, leaning back on her narrow bed. Her bedroom was intentionally bare. Her bed rested against one wall, closest to the window overlooking the central courtyard. A chest filled with nothing important but her garments and perfumes sat at its feet. A frayed rug covered the stone floor, the only note of color in the otherwise beige space.

    Nia stood, moving towards her satchel. Time to unpack before the legionnaires found another reason to search her rooms. She checked the hallway for the odd guard before easing her bedroom door closed. Moving her heavy bed was a struggle with one hand. She had an even harder time releasing the stone tile beneath the rug. She pried off the lid to the shallow cubby. It was now home to her three most headache inducing possessions; the dagger; the Peddler¡¯s lamp, and her map.

    She grabbed the master map and unfurled it across the floor. The map was one of the few remaining that had survived the Conqueror¡¯s plundering. De-Asha¡¯s libraries had gone up in smoke. All letters or maps that could have led back to Aker-San had been confiscated or destroyed. The navigator guilds who had been paid to guide travelers on the treacherous journey across the Dunelands had been rounded up and slaughtered in the streets.

    The map was on ancient vellum and took up half the length of her bed. Nia pressed down on the corners of the map to prevent them from rolling inward. Over the next hour she transferred the additions from her trip onto the master map. She estimated where the old trade route she had been following died. She approximated the location of the Peddler¡¯s tomb.

    Nia sat back on her haunches and evaluated her work. A scar of ugly ¡®X¡¯s crossed off lost villages, burnt guard towers, and sunken wells. All the hazards across an ocean of sand. Her fingers extended to a small dot nearest to the Skytops, northwest past the necropolis. The smudge indicated it was a structure. ¡°I¡¯ll go during my next dig.¡± She reasoned.

    Curse the Peddler, she would find her way to freedom.

 VII. Ashenian Mercy

    VII. ASHENIAN MERCY

    Dusk had sulked into evening. Admrilia exhaled slowly through her nostrils. Tonight, the arena was packed from the floor to the rafters with nearly every sole in Aegtrys. Anyone who was anyone was in attendance march of mercy. It was the last event after a long week of festivals, parades, feasts, and hippodrome races before the Triumph officially left Aegtrys in the morning.

    Admrilia was seated at the very front of the Emperor¡¯s box to the Conqueror¡¯s left. Asho, at his right in his legionnaire uniform. The Conqueror himself dressed in his full regalia. Admrilia herself had donned her ceremonial neptori armor, her hair carefully woven through a circuit of silver.

    Admrilia¡¯s jaw was tight as the trapdoors below the arena were opened, and a long line of shackled prisoners were walked out onto the packed earth by the palace¡¯s centori. The arena roared with disapproval. Lilee squealed behind her. She heard her mother¡¯s hush. Admrilia¡¯s mouth formed a thin line. Her younger sisters should not be watching this, but they would have to learn sooner or later the traditions of the Empire.

    The prisoners were lined up in front of the Emperor¡¯s box. There were perhaps fifty men in total, ranging in all ages and races. Their heads had been shaven, their shoulders bear. Admrilia¡¯s dark eyes found Culus Caestus. The pirate king was staring right at her, his expression murderous. In the weeks he had been in her family¡¯s villa, every look in her direction had been promising vengeance.

    The Conqueror stood. ¡°In accordance to our god, it is time for one of our more somber traditions. As the Stormlord himself chose mercy over his siblings, we too, must see the value of life. May you prisoners find the mercy of your captors.¡±

    The procedure was simple. An announcer would introduce the prisoner, state to which general or senator he belonged, and belittle him in front of the jeering crowd. His crimes would be cataloged. Then it would be up to the prisoner¡¯s master to determine if he would be granted Ashenian Mercy, or if he would die. It was tradition that most prisoners were kept alive for a decade, forced to denigrate themselves at the feet of their captors. Other prisoners, perhaps those who had proven their use to the Empire were spared for decades. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Either way, they would be dreading this night for years on whether they would live or die.

    The first prisoner was dragged forward, an ancient man of perhaps eighty, who was a servant of a Tadius senator. He was spared.Culus¡¯ eyes did not leave her as the next ten prisoners were brought forward. Those who were spared fell to their knees crying with relief. Those who were not were quickly met with a centori¡¯s spear.

    Her sisters were crying behind her. Little Hora sobbed. Admrilia tightened her fists. Soon Culus would be dragged forward and she would be expected to spare him, just as tradition dictated. Just as the Conqueror would like¡­

    Expect Culus could still betray her. The pirate king may not be able to talk, but he could still write. He could ruin her if he told the truth of how she had won the pirate islands. Her conduct would get her titles stripped, her honored revoked, and the Empire handed over to Asho.

    Culus was pushed forward. ¡°Behold! Culus Caestus, triumph prisoner of the renowned Argenti, Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex. Newly captured during the blockade of the rebellious silver islands. Caestus is responsible for years of pirating and looting Ashenian merchant vessels, overthrowing the empire¡¯s magistrates, and instigating a rebellion from the Ashenian Empire.¡±

    The stands roared at Caestus¡¯ treason. They called for his death.

    She had a duty, a duty to the Empire.

    ¡°Culus Caestus, may the Stormlord grand your mercy. Argenti, will he be spared?¡±

    Admrilia realized that it was the second time the Centori had asked her. The Conqueror turned. ¡°Argenti?¡± He asked darkly. ¡°What say you?¡±

    ¡°I-¡± Her thoughts raced to a sharp, dark clarity. She turned to face the Conqueror''s weathered face. It was clear. Culus Caestus was not a threat to the Empire. He was a threat to her.

    And he had to die.

    Admrilia fought to keep her voice neutral as she thrust her palm downward. ¡°We grant no mercy. This prisoner dies.¡±

    Culus¡¯ mouth opened, his tongue failing for worm words as the centori stepped forward. But his hands moved swiftly, his fingers rapidly forming signs:

    T R A

    The centori¡¯s spear pierced flesh, and the pirate king fell.

 VIII. The Fourth Triumph

    VIII. THE FOURTH TRIUMPH

    Asho broiled inside his breastplate as the priestess approached. The timeworn hand smeared black and goopy mourning ashes across his lips in a thick vertical line. Then, from outside the temple complex, the low dirge of war horns. The silver-haired priestess stepped aside. Asho bowed before the shrine of Thrysne the Stormlord. He gazed up at the chiseled marble in all of it¡¯s masculine glory. His god wilded a copper trident high above his head that brushed the temple¡¯s ceiling. His other hand pointed outwards towards the continent.

    Asho turned, marching down the altar steps. Near the doors his uncle and cousin stood at attention near the war chariot. Uncle Hortus¡¯s helm, an impressive plume of blue feathers obscured his face. Admrilia rocked from heel to sole, her grasp tight on her spear. Her neptori armor had been furiously polished, her appearance carefully cultivated to be as menacing as possible. Lips coated with thick ash paste, sharp black eyes outlined with kohl, raven hair coaxed to spill over her left shoulder in a braid fastened with leather barbs.

    Admrilia¡¯s eyes were hardened: like the Conqueror¡¯s; like the Stormlord¡¯s. Asho prodded to find any stress from their shared oath pressing down her shoulders, at the creases of her mouth, along the ridges of her forehead, and found none. Admrilia was as quiet and unsettling as before a hurricane.

    Asho¡¯s fingers rolled slowly around the handle of his spear. His whole body rumbled with poorly contained excitement. Asho scrunched his features and narrowed his ocean eyes. He exhaled slowly. Everything beneath the stars and above the waves was his. Emboldened, he moved for the chariot.

    A hand pressed against his back. It was his mother, donned in a deep purple stolla. Taj¡¯s blonde hair was pinned back in place by ivory clips. She looked better today, more put together.

    ¡°Mother, you look lovely.¡±

    ¡°And you are grown.¡± Her blue eyes watered. ¡°Oh my son! Promise me you¡¯ll be careful.¡±

    Asho flushed deep crimson as she cupped his cheek. ¡°Mother,¡± he hissed.

    Taj released him and pretended to wipe dust off his shoulder. ¡°Please, Asho.¡±

    ¡°I will come home. I promise.¡± Asho said softly.

    His mother took a steadying breath. She looked around the crowd flustered, before waving to his aunt and cousins. Raja-Kai¡¯s face tightened as Taj and Varius found their places near them.

    Admrilia had already moved to the left of the war chariot. Asho sped walked to the right of the massive basket. He took in the crowd of dashing servants as they sprinted to fulfill last minute duties. Without turning to Admrilia he whispered. ¡°Are you ready for today?¡±

    ¡°My whole life.¡±

    Asho tightened his grip on his spear. ¡°Me too.¡±

    They lapsed into silence until the Conqueror arrived. Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex was dressed for war. His heavy ceremonial armor molded to his torso like a second skin. A purple cap hugged his shoulders and partially obscured the crusted hilt of his gladius. He strove towards the war chariot with the confidence of a thousand armies. Thick black ash painted across his ever unimpressed lips.

    General Hortus stepped forward and removed his helm. He lowered to hiss his father¡¯s knuckles. Once he had risen, the Conqueror did something that Asho had never seen him do. He smiled.

    The Conqueror never smiled. In that moment, Asho understood why. The expression loosened his piercing jaw, lifted the creases around his mouth, the godliness of his pupils retreated. The expression did not make him appear warm exactly, but it did make the Conqueror mortal. Dangerous, but mortal.

    Asho¡¯s hand tightened around his spear, wishing he would stop. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    The Emperor extended his arms out to the crowd. Knees hit the marble, fists cast overhead. ¡°Dawn marks the fiftieth anniversary of my conquest.¡± The Conqueror boomed. ¡°The flesh and blood of the Stormlord, I left Aegtrys an ambitious soldier and returned with Ker secured for our nation¡¯s glory. As a people, we have ushered in a great peace unlike any in our history!

    ¡°No child starves. Our children become educated and our merchants fatten from the continent. Our legions and neptori uphold our customs and laws in every corner of the Empire. And with each territory gained, the power of the Stormlord grows in the hearts of men. As Ashenians, we have risen from mere islanders to a nation of merchants, of voyagers, of statesmen, and of champions. As a people it is our right to rule the Conquered according to our own pleasure!¡±

    The prince lifted his chin. This was the Conqueror he was familiar with. ¡°Today begins my fourth Triumph. It will be the first of which my two remaining heirs, prince Asho Atesh Ashiphiex and princess Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex, the Argenti, shall take part. But it will not be their last. My successor will continue our great tradition of conquest. Land will continue to be seized, cities will bend, peoples will surrender, until everything from the sea to the stars is our great peoples. May the Stormlord bring us prosperity!¡±

    The Conqueror bowed low to the statue of the Stormlord. ¡°I, Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex, first citizen of the Ashenian people, Conqueror of Ker, son of your blood hereby beseech you, Thrysne the Stormlord to bless the Triumph. To remember those who had been lost in our quest, to aid us in our time of need, and to guide us in our path for your glory.¡±

    The Conqueror finished the prayer of departure and stood. Asho followed the Conqueror into the basket of the war chariot. Admrilia placed her hands on two of the horse¡¯s reins and Asho grabbed the other set. His blood pounded thunderously. Being so close to the Conqueror, he could sense the wyrdstone beneath his breastplate and all of its fierce promises.

    The massive cedar doors were opened by a team of twelve men. The rest of the processional was already in position on the porch of the temple complex. At the sight of them, musicians blew into their conch shells. The war horns sounded. The drummers tempo swelled into a marching beat.

    They entered the crowded streets. The standard bearers led the procession; waving purple banners of the Ashenian Falcon. At the front the first legion marched in orderly columns, passing out gafs of grain and fruit to the awaiting citizens. Soldiers handed wooden gladius¡¯ to the well dressed boys who had been pushed to the front of the crowds by their families. Girls were gifted carved flutes of flowers. Asho beamed at the sight of the spoils.

    Behind the soldiers were neptori, and then the captured prisoners from Ker, Pi-Yenja, and Thrys. The Triumph prisoners were pelted with fish guts by the booing masses.

    In front of the war chariot, General Hortus rode on a massive chestnut warhorse bearing the Conqueror¡¯s standard. Asho darted a glance behind them to the rest of the procession. Behind their chariot was the remainder of the royal family being carried on liters; his mother and cousin¡¯s. Then rode the Conqueror¡¯s council, proudly leading the Senators.

    Beneath the leather padding of his legionnaire helmet, the prince was grinning ear to ear. He reveled in the veneration. It was intoxicating. In that moment he swore to himself to gather every star; to conquer every territory. To shower prosperity amongst his people, just as the Conqueror before him. Asho lifted his spear and drowned in pure ecstasy as Aegtrys screamed his name.

    ¡°Remember you are mortal.¡±

    Asho furrowed his brow, but Admrilia was whisperering to the Conqueror.

    ¡°Only a man who lived a life unfulfilled fears death.¡± The Conqueror waved out to scores of poor children as they elbowed each other for the flying coin.

    Hours later, they arrived back at the agora. Centori formed a human shield against the masses. Hortus dismounted his massive warhorse and handed his standard to an attendant. The Conqueror stepped out of his basket and addressed the public. ¡°I seek our people¡¯s glory once again during the Triumph. In my year absence, my son, Hortus Atesh Ashiphiex will serve as regent over the Senate until my return.¡±

    His uncle lowered his head and kissed the Conqueror''s knuckles. ¡°For my duty is to the Ashenian people, I accept this post.¡± So quietly Asho barely heard him, Hortus said. ¡°Safe travels father.¡±

    The Conqueror waved him off. Asho turned around, catching sight of his mother¡¯s distraught face. Taj¡¯s eyes met his, her mouth forming three words.

    Asho repeated the phrase. He startled as the Conqueror stepped back into the basket and ordered them towards the harbor. He turned around, his stomach clenching in uncertainty. How long before he saw his mother again?

    They arrived at the harbor an hour later. The seven massive warships of the first neptor awaiting their arrival. Asho coaxed the exhausted horses across the busy gangplank of the Conqueror''s trireme. The Conqueror finally dismissed them, hastening with his advisors to a large tent that had been erected near the rear of the ship. Asho walked towards the massive purple sails as the final preparations were made. When the Pontus hoisted sail that evening, the last thing Asho saw of home was the island¡¯s dazzling white cliffs.

 IX. The Pontus

    <ol>

    <li>IX. THE PONTUS </li>

    </ol>

    Admrilia walked to the Pontus¡¯ bow just as dawn yawned across the horizon. She existed for this calm as the first rays of sunlight reflected off the dark waters of the Semperimar. Here, just as the world awoke she could be alone with her thoughts. Admrilia nodded to the helmsmen, inhaling the sharp salty breeze and threw her hands over the railing. Minutes later, life aboard the Pontus began with military precision. Neptori rose to release the night crew and took their stations along the deck. As visibility improved, Admrilia spotted the rest of their fleet behind them, prepared for another day sailing along the coastline.

    Admrilia too, should get about her duties. She confirmed with Ros, the helmsmen, about their days course. Over the past days, she had dived into helping command the Pontus. She had hoped that if she showed her trustworthiness, the Conqueror would call upon her. He hadn¡¯t. The Conqueror had grown accustomed to secluding himself inside his tent with his council. He had left her and Asho up to their own devices. Admrilia rarely saw her cousin. He spent his days in the sails, watching the waves or dozing. Once she had ran into him in the kitchen, hand in a bag of dates while the groggy cook wasn¡¯t looking. The prince had merely raised an eyebrow at her, mid-chew.

    Admrilia broke her fast, and spent the afternoon training with Flavius and Alexandros under the guidance of the conqueror¡¯s centori. Their instructor, Tygris Gaius Agrippa, was unusually young for the post. Only in his thirties, but he was ruthless in his command of the legionnaires stationed on the Pontus through their exercises. He barked out the various attacks and blocks, Admrilia took refuge in the movements. She normally preferred the spear and nets assigned to neptori, but she knew she would have to strengthen her proficiency with a gladius. The Silver Islands had taught her that.

    When Tygris dismissed them, Admrilia took her sore muscles back to her small cabin. She spent her nights reading up on the complicated entanglements of the Empire. Admrilia shuddered at the thought of not having a response if the Conqueror called upon her. If every action taken in the next year was cumulative in his decision, then there were only one steadfast direction forward. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The days slid into a week. The first neptor abandoned the coastline for the open sea. Admrilia grew eager for their first stop at Thrysne Island to pay homage to the Stormlord before they headed to Sugia Territory. She ran laps around the trireme, trained underneath centori Tygris and his men, and waited outside the Conqueror¡¯s tent, hands clasped behind her back, waiting for the call.

    Admrilia was unsure what had awakened her, but the dream had left her cold and breathless. The premonition fading from her consciousness as quickly as it had formed. She rubbed against her chest, forcing herself to breath. Admrilia got dressed. She pushed past the sleepy oarsmen to the main deck, expecting solace at the bow.

    Asho laid with his back on the deck, hands in his unruly hair. He tilted his head over as she approached. ¡°Admrilia?¡±

    ¡°What are you doing out here?¡±

    ¡°Stargazing.¡± He said as if it was obvious.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Admrilia¡¯s feet slid backwards. ¡°I won¡¯t intrude.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Asho patted the deck. ¡°Join me.¡±

    Admrilia sighed and lowered herself down on the cold planks. She gazed up at the midnight sky. It wasn¡¯t particularly impressive, the little anklets of light as inspiring as the freckles on Asho¡¯s face. Asho¡¯s eyes darted over. ¡°There¡¯s the Tyrysian stag.¡± Asho pointed to a square collection of stars to the north. ¡°The hunter, he¡¯s over there, kills it and gives it to the Maiden.¡± Admrilia muttered something incoherent that he mistook for permission to continue. ¡°Over there is the crab.¡± Asho¡¯s toe snatched towards her achilles.

    Admrilia curled back her toes. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± She warned. ¡°So you really do this to entertain yourself?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Gods below, I never knew you could be so boring.¡± Admrilia blew away her hair.

    Asho grew quiet. ¡°They remind me of my father.¡±

    Ashen. Admrilia¡¯s face grew uncharacteristically hot. ¡°Oh.¡±

    Asho pushed himself to his feet. He wasn¡¯t looking at her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to bother you. I should go get some sleep.¡±

    Admrilia grunted a noncommittal ¡°no, don¡¯t,¡± as he turned. She sat up, but Asho was already stalking back towards the sails.

 X. The Bazaar

    <ol>

    <li> THE BAZAAR</li>

    </ol>

    ¡°There.¡± Lero whispered to Cythe, jutting his head towards the alehouse. Nia squinted at the dingy establishment across the busy street, this early in the morning it was hardly open for business. Cythe took a step towards the building and Lero snatched her wrist. His eyes pointed to where the legionnaires lounged in the shade. ¡°You do realize they¡¯ll recognize you as the Legate¡¯s wife, yes?¡±

    ¡°And they wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Cythe hiked Tius up on her hip. She gestured kindly to the legionnaires as Titus grabbed for her hair.

    Nia crossed her arms. ¡°Will either of you telling what is going on?¡± Lero¡¯s jaw tightened in silent warning to their sister. ¡°Fine.¡± Nia huffed. ¡°Forget it.¡± Besides, she had other business to attend to.

    Or she did. Several city blocks later, the legionnaires were still trailing them. Nia regretted taking up her sister¡¯s offer to go to the bazaar. She wondered how best she could lose their entourage in the buzzing market. The merchants voice rang out in the early morning, echoing off the walls of the narrow streets.

    ¡°Spices¡ª genuine spices.¡±

    ¡°Salt! Salt!¡±

    ¡°Fish! Freshly caught.¡±

    ¡°Fine silk from Pi-Yenja. Authentic silk smooth enough for a king.¡±

    ¡°Treasures straight from the Dunelands.¡± Nia slowed at the voice. Her siblings kept walking, disappearing around the corner of the block. Nia hiked up her scarf and ducked her head past a passer-by. A middle aged Ashenian man waved her over from a stall constructed in the alleyway between two houses. Nia turned to make sure the legionnaire¡¯s hadn¡¯t noticed her. The merchant snapped at her ear.

    Nia growled as she faced him. ¡°Merka.¡± She greeted.

    The Ashenian trader was short, stout, and eternally sunburnt. His red skin peeled around his nose and sweaty neck. Merka rolled four knuckles across the counter. Nia leaned in closer as if to examine a black onyx funerary statue and dropped a few shras on the counter. They disappeared within seconds. Merka¡¯s hand inspected them underneath the counter. ¡°Well caught, raider.¡±

    Her cheeks heated, she was far from the only tomb raider who served Merka and the other treasure dealers of the lower bazaar, but her proximity to the Legate had made her dealings insurmountably dangerous. If Clavo ever found out that she had been undercutting him for years, well, Nia couldn¡¯t bear to stomach the thought.

    But it was a risk worth taking. After four years of crawling, climbing, and squeezing herself through near-death experiences; Nia had traded enough treasure and squirreled away enough coin to start her life elsewhere. If she even knew where ¡®elsewhere¡¯ was.

    Nia kept her eyes on the legionnaires as they moved to the next patch of shade. They were still focused on ehr sister, who was now trading compliments with a scarf weaver. ¡°What news?¡±

    ¡°Three diggers left four days ago.¡±

    Nia narrowed her eyes. They must have escaped during the most recent work rotation to the necropolis. ¡°Their path?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been told north, towards Xur.¡±

    Nia scrunched her nose. The path to Xur was treacherous, and the escapees would be Goddess favored to make it there alive. She nodded her head. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°And my delivery?¡±

    ¡°At the usual spot.¡±

    With nothing else to say, Merka slipped a her a circular loaf of bread. Nia held up the hollow loaf, shaking it. Her payment would be inside. She walked back across the street, making a show of smelling the fresh loaf.

    ¡°I should report you.¡± Lero whispered when she caught up to them.

    ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Under the Legate¡¯s nose. Seriously sister. How stupid are you?¡±

    Cythe looked over from the merchant. ¡°Both of you be pleasant.¡±

    Her be pleasant? Nia and Lero¡¯s mouths flung open to argue, but Cythe¡¯s quick gesture demanded silence. She pressed a finger to her lips and pointed to the center of the street. Nia followed her hand and flinched as the whip bit into skin.

    Ka-TCH! Ka-TCH!

    The legionnaire released the whip again, tearing open another gash. Ka-TCH! Ka-TCH!

    The second legionnaire cupped his hands to his mouth. ¡°Attention!¡± He boomed at the gathered crowd. ¡°For far to long, the kerai have fled into the Dunelands. The Legate has ordered increased patrols along De-Asha¡¯s walls. By the edict of our esteemed Conqueror, any kerai caught will be sentenced to hard labor in De-Urs.¡±

    The bazaar gasped in collective horror. De-Urs had the deadliest quarries in the region. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°We cannot leave the city?¡± A woman whispered.

    ¡°They can¡¯t do this.¡±

    ¡°They can.¡± Lero said evenly.

    ¡°I thought¡ª¡± Cythe trailed off.

    ¡°The Legate is one of them.¡± Lero snapped. ¡°You know the law.¡±

    Nia did. The Conqueror had ruled decades ago after the Houses surrendered that any kerai discovered in the aker state would either be enslaved or sentenced to death. Not all who lived in Ker were among the kerai. As the generations passed, fewer children were born with Sachmis¡¯ gift to manifest one¡¯s wyrd into the physical world. Those who felt the undeniable pull of the goddess would confine themselves within their homes or race into the desert. Escaping into the Dunelands had worked, until it hadn¡¯t. Clavo¡¯s father and previous Legate, Crassus Clavo had first ordered the patrols. Swiftly afterwards De-Asha¡¯s kerai population was funneled through the empire in chains.

    Ka-TCH! Ka-TCH!

    Nia dug her teeth into her own cheek. The kerai man wailed as the legionnaire continued to whip him.

    Ka-TCH! Ka-TCH!

    The overpowering smell of blood hit her nostrils. The need to hunt, to hurt, to kill reared up within her. No! Nia clenched her fist, willing the aker to stay down. Her jaw began to ache.

    Cythe¡¯s hand found her shoulder. ¡°Nia.¡± She soothed. ¡°Take a deep breath.¡±

    The whip rose, snapping at the man¡¯s legs. The prisoner rolled onto his back, folding his legs close to his chest. The legionnaire took a step forward, raising the whip.

    The aker thudded against her sternum. ¡°Cythe, I¡¯m scared. I¡¯m going to-¡±

    ¡°No, Nia!¡± Cythe¡¯s voice hinted at her fear. She pulled her in close. ¡°Nia, you can¡¯t.¡±

    The prisoner ax kicked the legionnaire¡¯s face. The soldier reared back, angrily clenching his bleeding nose. The prisoner rolled onto his feat and half-ran, half-limped through the crowd.

    ¡°Out of the way!¡± Lero shoved Nia to the ground. Her brother unsheathed their father¡¯s khoshep as he ran. Curved sword in the air, he stuck out his foot in one fluid gesture sending the prisoner stumbling. With military precision, Lero stepped behind the prisoner and held the blade at the reedy man¡¯s throat. The other legionnaire¡¯s hustled over, pushing through the crowd.

    ¡°Good catch, Uro.¡±

    Lero¡¯s face flushed. He pulled back the blade and released the man¡¯s hair. ¡°I¡¯ll leave him to it.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± The legionnaires heaved the man to his feet.

    The kerai spat. ¡°You¡¯re a traitor.¡±

    Lero¡¯s face hardened. He marched back to Nia and Cythe. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Run away, Uro.¡± The scarf merchant snatched back a green scarf that Cythe had been purchasing. ¡°I knew I recognized the two of you. You are the Legate¡¯s whore and you¡ª¡± she pointed a bony finger at Lero. ¡°Are his lapdog.¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, go home and stay inside.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll run back to the Legate.¡± The woman¡¯s husband snarled. ¡°It is all your House is good for. Well that and spreading your legs.¡±

    Cythe flushed deep crimson. Lero stepped forward. ¡°Do you think my sister wanted to marry that monster?¡±

    ¡°Lero,¡± Cythe whispered. ¡°You are creating a scene.¡±

    Their brother turned, noticing how the bazaar patrons noticed their commotion. He scowled. ¡°Return to your homes at once. Heed the warning of the Legate.¡±

    It was a long and brutal walk back to the compound. Disquiet radiated off of Cythe¡¯s normally sunny face, and Lero¡¯s thunderous anger was better left alone. Nia trailed behind them, concerned at how close the aker had been to breaking free. How many people could she have hurt?

    Lero let out a shuttering breath. ¡°I have to keep our family safe.¡±

    ¡°I know that.¡± Cythe said.

    ¡°You are his wife. I am his legionnaire. I, we, have to be like them.¡±

    ¡°But we aren¡¯t.¡± Nia whispered.

    Lero whipped his head around. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear you speak after what you almost did. Do you hear me?¡±

    They lapsed into silence again. The Legate waited for them at the gates of compound. Nia¡¯s footsteps slowed as they approached. ¡°Baba!¡± Titus wiggled out of Cythe¡¯s grasp. Clavo squinted his eye down at the toddler as he wrapped his tiny arms around his tree trunk of a leg. He folded his enormous arms across his chest. ¡°I heard the three of you took a stroll.¡±

    Cythe¡¯s voice was full of feigned cheerfulness. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s rare my sister is in De-Asha long enough for me to visit with her. You send her on so many assignments love. We went shopping for a new scarf for mother.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I heard.¡± Clavo said tonelessly. ¡°There was a commotion in the lower bazaar for my men.¡±

    ¡°It was contained.¡± Lero said immediately.

    The Legate narrowed his eyes. ¡°Containing the Kerai is not good enough for the Conqueror.¡±

    Cythe reached down and pulled up Titus. ¡°And what of your son?¡±

    Clavo scowled. ¡°I have my orders. You know what I would have to do.¡± Clavo reached out and allowed the toddler to grip his finger. ¡°Get him inside.¡±

    Cythe dropped Titus to the ground and he ran through the gate. Lero nodded his head in deference and followed after them. The Legate stuck his arm out. ¡°Lose control like that again, and your family will not save you.¡± He threatened.

    Fear pierced her. How close had she come to unleashing the aker that even the Legate had heard? ¡°They¡¯re not your family Clavo.¡±

    ¡°You forget your place. My son will inherit your House.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Another expedition leaves to the necropolis in the morning. Get your brother. We ride at dawn.¡±

 XI. The Storm

    XI. THE STORM

    Thunderous pounding burst against the seams of Admrilia¡¯s subconscious. She rolled over, folding a blanked of dreams around herself, when the wave crashed against the hull. The next rocked her body straight out of the bunk. Admrilia landed squarely on the floor, jolted awake. ¡®Stormlord¡¯s mercy!¡± She staggered in the dark, searching for her sailor¡¯s cloak.

    They must have arrived.

    A hand rapped furiously against the door of her cabin. ¡°Argenti!¡± Flavius shouted. ¡°Wake up.¡±

    ¡°Come in Flavius.¡± He entered, drenched from head to foot in seawater. ¡°Took a swim did you?¡±

    Flavius threw a boot at her face. ¡°We need to move.¡±

    Admrilia followed her neptori past the rows of panic-stricken oarsmen. It took all of her guard¡¯s might to open the hatch. Saltwater greeted them. Flavius helped heave her onto the deck. She quickly caught her bearings. Finally, after a week of brain rotting idleness, her veins hummed with adrenaline.

    The Pontus was fighting for its life inside the largest cyclone Admrilia had ever seen. The ship careened drastically to the right against an oncoming wave. Admrilia braced her feet as icy water whooshed over the railing and slammed into the crew. Neptori screamed as they lost their balance. There was a sickening thud behind her, and Amdrilia turned quickly to grab Flavius¡¯s arm as he stumbled.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± He grunted.

    ¡°And you call yourself a sailor. Come on!¡± Admrilia whipped her already soaked hair out of her eyes. She staggered towards the steering oar with Flavius a few paces behind her. Two men were yelling, each hands braced on the steering oar.

    ¡°Head East!¡±

    ¡°I cannot see a gods blasted thing in this storm!¡± That as Ros, the helmsmen. ¡°You think I know East?¡±

    ¡°Are you not a neptori?¡± And that was Centori Tygris, who knew nothing about ships. Nor, apparently, Ros¡¯ infamous temper.

    ¡°I AM A NEPTORI! YOU SHIELD TRIPPING TWAT!¡± Ros bellowed. He grunted as he righted the ship from another monstrous wave. Ros screamed at the sky. ¡°IS THAT ALL YOU GOT YOUR ARSEHOLE?¡±

    A sharp bolt of lightening tore through the thunderous clouds, crashing into the water next to the hull.

    Tygris jumped. ¡°Stormlord have mercy!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do that.¡± Ros said.

    ¡°YES YOU DID!¡± Tygris roared.

    ¡°BRACE!¡± Ros ordered. Admrilia lunged to clench the railing as the ship rose with an oncoming wave. She took a deep breath. Freezing water crashed overhead. She gasped for air when it was over.

    ¡°TYGRIS?¡± Ros screamed. ¡°Where did he go?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got him!¡± Flavius¡¯ voice trembled behind them. He was leaning over the ships side, Alexandros at his side. Together they helped Tygris back aboard. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Amdrilia whipped her hair out of her eyes as someone bumped against her. Thrysne below, why had she slept with it undone?

    Asho¡¯s linens were soaked and clung to his shivering skin. His golden curls lay flat against his forehead. He braced as the Pontus rocked. ¡°Stormlord¡¯s Tits!¡±

    ¡°Anatomically incorrect.¡± Admrilia grumbled.

    The ocean continued its punishment. Another wave hit and Admrilia braced again. When they had surfaced for air Asho shouted. ¡°I never thought they were so serious about the storm.¡±

    ¡°See, that¡¯s your problem. You take nothing seriously@¡±

    ¡°I do too!¡±

    ¡°Drinking doesn¡¯t count, Asho!¡± Admrilia shouted. Lightening cracked and they jumped as the purple sails lit. Heat, faint and glorious, warmed her face before the fabric shinged in the torrential downpour.

    The Conqueror appeared his centori close behind. The Emperor was unflinching as the cyclone destroyed his prized ship. The aging Conqueror sidestepped surefooted around the stumbling neptori, effortlessly hauling them to their feet and pushing them back to position. His abyss-like eyes chewed into his heirs as he approached. ¡°You two!¡± He hollered. ¡°Report.¡±

    ¡°Storm, Conqueror.¡± Asho barked.

    The creases around the Conqueror¡¯s eyes tightened. ¡°I meant with the ship. You!¡± He pointed a dry arm at Asho. ¡°Control the panic belowdecks. Get those oarsmen in line. And you-¡± He pointed to Admrilia. ¡°With me.¡±

    Admrilia¡¯s pleasure at Asho¡¯s swift dismissal was replaced with a quiet terror as the Conqueror turned, marching surefooted back towards the bow. Admrilia¡¯s throat tightened at the incoming mountain of water. Men screamed in terror. The Conqueror reached for his neck and retreated the wyrdstone. He held it in his fist, white crests spraying through his loose knuckles. The Conqueror squarely planted his feet. ¡°Brace me!¡± He barked.

    Admrilia¡¯s hands flew to his shoulders. She tightened her core as the ship rose and he pushed back against her. The Conqueror was surprisingly heavy. The Conqueror raised the wyrdstone overhead.

    The ocean crashed against them. Her boots slipped. ¡°Hold me steady!¡± He roared.

    Admrilia repositioned her frozen fingers at his hips. The cold seized her body, rooting her limbs in place. She choked as the presence she had first felt when she touched the wyrdstone take hold of her ribs. Admrilia peeled a hand away from the Conqueror¡¯s back as her vision darkened, trying to pry off the invisible noose around her neck.

    Wyrdling.

    The voice was a menacing growl. Her mind whimpered at the presence as the Stormlord tightened his grip around her lungs. She lifted her hands from the Conqueror¡¯s back, clawing for her throat. You would dare run from me wyrdling?

    ¡°Argenti!¡± The Conqueror¡¯s steely voice punctured her mind. ¡°Remember your oath.¡±

    Admrilia stumbled forward, her hands finding the Conqueror¡¯s back. The Stormlord tightened his hold. Admrilia bit her tongue, the bitter coppery taste a welcome distraction from the fact that she was certainly dying. Her lungs ached for air as she drowned.

    The world grew dark and horribly quiet.

    And then, it wasn¡¯t. The Stormlord¡¯s sharp hold over her lungs loosened, and she could breath again. Admrilia opened an eyelid. Overhead, fish and driftwood suspended just inches from her scalp, frozen by sheer willpower. The storm cleaved, and the Pontus quickly sailed through the tunnel the Conqueror had created them.

    The Conqueror pulled his hands to his chest, and the ocean fell. When it was over, The Conqueror placed the wyrdstone back beneath his dry tunic. He turned, and loosened her grip from his sides. Admrilia¡¯s boots slid back, her knees buckled. She collapsed on the deck, violently coughing up blood nearly black. She shuddered with embarrassment, commanding her weak legs to work. For her body to rise so she could face the Emperor. But the exhaustion that sunk into her bones was heavy.

    The Conqueror wiped his mouth. His abyss like eyes were dark and triumphant. He folded his palms and observed her. ¡°You are ordered to sleep the rest of the journey.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Conq-¡± His boots stepped over her body. Admrilia only just heard the neptori cheer before her head collided with the deck.

 XII. In the Temple of the Stormlord

    XII. <strong style="font-family: "book antiqua", palatino">IN THE TEMPLE OF THE STORMLORD

    The stars reflected off the Semperimar as the Pontus¡¯ rostrum slid into thick mud. The neptori clamored to dock the massive warship in the dark. Asho cracked his knuckles, waiting for his cousin to emerge from belowdecks. Admrilia had to be carried back to her cabin by her neptori after the storm, her skin so plaid and her lips so deathly blue that Asho had been tempted to check on her, almost.

    When she surfaced, Admrilia¡¯s shark-like glare made him pleased he hadn¡¯t. She had changed into a dry tunic, her hair coaxed into a tangled braid. Her lips were still tinged blue. Without a word, she stood at attention near the Conqueror¡¯s destroyed tent.

    Asho opened his mouth to say something he would definitely regret later when the Conqueror appeared from belowdecks. He had changed into billowing purple robes, and in lieu of a helmet, a silver circuit pushed down from his ears.

    Helmsmen Ros appeared from the bow. ¡°Thrysne Island, Conqueror.¡±

    The Emperor nodded stoically. His attention slid to the rich volcanic shoreline. ¡°Excellent. Have the men rest for the night.¡± The Conqueror nodded his head to centori Tygris. Two more men reemerged from belowdecks, dragging a hooded prisoner between them. Asho¡¯s stomach turned to knots. ¡°Come. We march on the shrine.¡±

    Asho¡¯s sandals slid through the rich soil, mud covering his shins as they hiked up the steep hill. Thrysne Island was wild, lush with overgrown vines and short, wind trodden olive groves. They followed no trail through the bush by the light of the moon. When they crested the hill, Asho caught sight of the temple at the westernmost point of the island¡¯s volcanic cliffs. It emerged from solid bedrock, supported by simple doric columns three times Asho¡¯s height. The temple complex was austria, stern, unadorned. The prince wondered briefly if the myths were true ad the Stormlord himself had hauled up the massive monoliths.

    The Conqueror strove past storm destroyed columns and into the open air temple. The floor was pock marked by tide pools and overgrown weeds. At the opposite end of the temple the Stormlord sat sentry over his domain. Asho stood perfectly still; his attention darting from the Conqueror¡¯s back as he prayed, out towards the ocean, and then around the shrine. There was undoubtedly power within the confines of the sheer rocks, a humming of ancient wyrd that awoke him carnally.

    The Conqueror stood and lifted the chain from around his neck. Asho was so enraptured by the ethereal rock that he missed his callous nod to the centori. The centori dumped the prisoner at the Conqueror¡¯s feet, roughly removing his head. Asho did his best to make out his features in the moonlight. The prisoner¡¯s hair was rust red, his beaten face covered by a patchy beard that made it difficult to guess his true age.

    ¡°This is Hadris Prodomni.¡± The Conqueror said. ¡°Once he was in the Iornore legion and rose to great prominence. His loyalty to the Empire and his skill as a scout was unmatched, and gained my attention. I granted Prodomni the honor of becoming a centori to accompany your father¡¯s on their campaign to cull the Bruttanium invasion. This nullius-¡± The Conqueror said with his first display of raw anger. ¡°Betrayed his countrymen and relayed valuable legionnaire positions to the Brutannium chief.¡±

    Asho¡¯s ears warmed. Asho knew the rest, this was the man who ignited the events that had led to his father¡¯s death.

    ¡°The legion discovered the deception after the Battle of the Pines. Prodomni was captured attempting to flee across the channel and dragged to Aegtrys in chains. Before the senate he was sentenced as my prisoner and lives by my mercy.

    ¡°Betrayal is the highest crime. When the Stormlord was betrayed by his own siblings, he was cast into the Semperimar for dead. Our god hefted up the ocean floor and molded a man out of the ocean silt on his workbench. He filled in its hollowness with sea water. And as the wyrdling was born Thrysne spoke to him. ¡®I am the Stormlord, your father, and the Semperimar is the salt and sea of your veins. Go now, as my legs. March your armies upon the earth and have your descendants recover the stars in my glory. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°When my queen mother Ayuan was young, she faced enemies on all sides. By our lineage, the Stormlord¡¯s blood had been diluted through generations of political marriages and turmoil. By the time my mother was entrusted with our people, there was very little of the wyrd left within our family. My mother swore to never marry, never forfeit our line, our legacy, to an outsider.¡± The Conqueror ran a thumb against the Wyrdstone¡¯s rigid side.

    ¡°My mother sought refuge on this island, and communed with the Stormlord for guidance. The Stormlord answered her call. I was sired, the first wyrdling in the Ashiphiex line for centuries. The salt and sea of the Semperimar flows freely through my veins, as does yours.¡±

    The Conqueror looked them each in turn. ¡°It is time for your most important lesson. As wyrdlings, as my successors, you must know that the wyrd of a living person resides beneath the sternum.¡± He gestured with his own knuckles against his breastplate. ¡°Some scholars conceive the wyrd as an anchor, tethering every living thing back to the Skytops. But they are mistaken. An anchor is also a hook.¡±

    Asho¡¯s inners tightened. The Conqueror was about to show them something far worse than killing a man. The ancient Emperor towered over his sons betrayer, wyrdstone outstretched in his palm. Prodomni buckled forward, his hands flying to his neck. He rasped for air, skin quickly draining to a deadly pale. Prodomni pleaded for his life with burning, bloodshot eyes.

    Asho hardened his gaze: like the Conqueror¡¯s; like the Stormlords.

    The Conqueror drew the wyrdstone back towards himself and Prodomni¡¯s chest followed as if drawn by an invisible fishing line.

    Asho jolted at the resounding snap.

    Prodomni¡¯s skull bounced off the stone.

    Asho¡¯s jaw dropped. He stared at the dead man¡¯s blue face, and then to the Conqueror as he calmly placed the chain back over his neck. The Conqueror had waited ten long years to execute the man responsible for his son¡¯s death. He gulped as the Conqueror faced them. The vindicated Emperor was stoic. His face expressionless.

    ¡°Our poets sing that our sky cannot brook two suns, nor earth two masters.¡± He said softly, his words falling like the raindrops before a storm. ¡°Yet I am faced with two heirs, as different as the sky and sea itself.¡± He frowned. ¡°Take this opportunity to reflect and pray. Perhaps the Stormlord will favor one of you and make my choice easier.¡±

    The Emperor walked through the destroyed porch, heading back to the Pontus. His centori paused to grab Prodomni¡¯s cooling corpse, muscling it between the three of them as they followed.

    ¡°What do we do now?¡± Asho¡¯s ears flinched at how loud his voice sounded.

    Admrilia ignored him. She bowed stiffly from the waist at the Stormlord, and left the temple in the opposite direction for the cliffs. Asho waited until her footsteps receded. He exhaled, his hand rubbing his throat.

    Asho moved towards the weathered statue. The anger he felt at Prodomni iced into a strange, uncomfortable contemplation. The Stormlord sat in his throne, feet planted. Strong, muscular calves and thighs leading to a simply superhuman abdomen. Asho awed at the bulging shoulders and the thick vascular forearms of the volcanic granite. But the god¡¯s features had been eroded down to a ridge nose and firm set of lips. Asho looked at the Stormlord¡¯s half-face, mentally superimposing the Conqueror¡¯s sharp features.

    Was that the face that told a yount Atesh that he was his son? A full fledged wyrdling? A demigod? Surely for himself being in the nexus of the Stormlord¡¯s power should awaken some connection to the wyrd within him. After all he was a child of the god¡¯s line, he had to carry the power of the Semperimar in his veins. He had to.

    A stone hand curled around the air around a trident. It once would have brushed against the beams of the ceiling. Instead the ancient roof opened to a great gash of stars. The wound poured out mesmerizing indigo, blue, and white light.

    Was that what it was like to tap into the wyrd, to briefly touch the stars?

 Conqueror Entry # 2

    As the Semperimar is the

    salt and sea of my veins

    I have braved the Stormlord

    and carry within me godhood. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    I am to lead our people to their

    divine birthright to all corners of the earth

    ¡ª An entry from crown prince Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex

    Year 1 of the Conquering

 XIII. The Ripple

    XIII. <strong style="font-family: "book antiqua", palatino">THE RIPPLE

    The Argenti soaked her bare feet in a tide pool as dawn reflected off the Semperimar. The sea was steady as the tide moved calmly ashore. It was beautiful. It was peace. Her fingers brushed over the slimy texture of a sea star. Admrilia ran the back of her hand along its calcified skin.

    ¡°This island stirs thoughts long dormant.¡±

    Admrilia abruptly stood. ¡°Emperor.¡± She kissed his knuckles quickly.

    The Conqueror eased himself down to the sand. He had changed from the evening previously and was wearing a light burgundy tunic. ¡°You did not return to the Pontus last night.¡± No, she hadn¡¯t. The stench of smoke still clung to her hair and nails. The Conqueror looked over, and she did her best not to flinch. ¡°What hangs over you?¡±

    Admrilia selected her words carefully. ¡°Your demonstration caused reflection, sir.¡±

    He patted the shore and Admrilia sat back down. ¡°You question me killing him?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± He cheeks heated. Admrilia bowed her head. ¡°He was a traitor to our nation. I do not question your choice, nor the matter in which you ended it.¡± She paused, unable to get the image of Prodomni clawing at his throat as his windpipe was crushed out of her mind. ¡°I¡¯m unsure as to why you burned his body. Without connection to the wyrd, he would have no chance for the Skytops. Was it to insult him?¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Atesh¡¯s thin lips twisted into an unfamiliar expression. ¡°That filth does not deserve to rest in this holy place. A body is a vessel, Argenti.¡±

    Admrilia ran her tongue along her teeth, unsure what to say.

    The Conqueror continued. ¡°The wyrd is a spider¡¯s web, connecting the entire continent. When you are a wyrdling, as a child of the gods you can access some of these threads.¡± He grew quiet for a moment as Admrilia¡¯s fingers trailed along the volcanic surface of the tide pool. ¡°Your wyrd is tied to the Semperimar. I was skeptical of your connection to the Stormlord¡¯s dominance given your mother.¡±

    Given you¡¯re half Ker.

    Admrilia may have shared the Conqueror¡¯s dark eyes, but that was the resemblance abruptly ended. Admrilia had the course, curly hair of her mother, the stocky build of her father, and skin several shades darker than most Ashenians. Asho looked more like the Conqueror, more Ashenian, than she could ever dream.

    ¡°I hope to put that skepticism to rest, Emperor.¡± Admrilia inclined her head in deference. ¡°By the end of the Triumph I pray to have proven my aptitude as your successor.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Her ambition was met with an unimpressed huff. The Conqueror was best as cutting people down by saying nothing at all. ¡°Argenti, I have been blessed with many offspring, but few have taken root.¡±

    The comment took her by complete surprise. THe Conqueror never discussed his other children, her aunts and uncles and older cousins. All had perished in one way or another in service of the Empire. Her father Hortus, the youngest of the Conqueror¡¯s seven children, was the only one left alive.

    The Conqueror reached beneath his tunic and withdrew the wyrdstone. He turned the star over slowly in his palms. ¡°What I am about to tell you Argenti is only because I have seen firsthand your connection to the Semperimar. There is more our family can do than cast and cleave the wyrd of men.¡±

    ¡°We can call upon the Semperimar.¡± Admrilia guessed.

    The Conqueror nodded. ¡°Yes. But I advise you not to test the mercy of our god. This feat cannot be achieved without the presence of the wyrdstone¡ª lest your drain your own lifeblood and perish.¡±

    Admrilia was struck with the sudden memory of her father bursting through the doors of their villa. Admrilia had been sitting on the floor with her tutor as her father ran to her mother panicked. ¡°Marcus is dead.¡± Six-year old Admrilia had cried unconsolably. Her uncle had swung her over his shoulders on the beach the day before while Asho had eagerly awaited his turn. Sitting beside the tide pool, Admrilia realized she never learned how her uncle had died. Her eyes slid to the ethereal star, her gut clenching with dark certainty.

    ¡°There is no greater power than summoning storms.¡±

    ¡°Or stopping them.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Yes.¡± The Conqueror said. ¡°I saved the Pontus by casting my wyrd to the Semperimar. Instead of me cleaving another mortal, like I did with Prodomni last night, the Stormlord latched onto my own wyrd and fed. This is why it is so deadly, Argenti. To call forth the power of the Stormlord you must be prepared to drown.¡±

    The Conqueror¡¯s dark eyes assessed her. ¡°Soak your feet in the water.¡± Admrilia did so. He slid over he wyrdstone. Admrilia accepted it gently, her fingers closing around the cold star. Numbness quickly enveloped her fingers and spidered up her arm towards her chest. She clenched her teeth.

    Admrilia strained to hear the Conqueror¡¯s instructions as her body shook. ¡°Feel for your wyrd beneath your sternum, between your heart and lungs. There is the beat of our godhood Argenti. Feel for that beat. Have you found it? Focus on it, hold it steady. Now, reach for the Semperimar.¡± Admrilia furrowed her brow, not sure exactly how she was supposed to accomplish that. ¡°It is within you. The Semperimar is the salt and sea of your veins. Let it call you home.¡±

    Admrilia let out a choked breath. She felt her focus shift from her chest to her toes in the tide pool and the water around her ankles. It was as if her consciousness was folding inward on itself until she was the current and undercurrent all at once.

    ¡°Release yourself to the Stormlord.¡±

    She inhaled¡ª

    Wyrdling.

    Admrilia exhaled. Water, lazy and calm slid up along her calf trailing to her kneecap. Adrmilia¡¯s eyes flashed open, at once she was back within herself. She was sitting on a beach, the sharp rock digging into her hamstrings, her toes burrowed int the volcanic sand. Admrilia abruptly dropped the wyrdstone. Her stomach lurched and she bowled over. She vomited the remaining contents of her stomach. The Conqueror reached into the tide pool and retrieved the wyrdstone. Admrilia wiped the black bile from her mouth and dared to look at the Conqueror¡¯s godlike eyes. They glinted.

 XIV. The Maw

    <ol>

    <li> THE MAW</li>

    </ol>

    Nia dismounted at the edge of the crater. The Legate grabbed a bundle of papyrus from his pack and snapped his finger at a nearby laborer to take their horses down the dusty hill. Signs of excavation were everywhere as the laborers pushed carts filled with fresh earth from the necropolis. The hill flattened off as they entered the work camp. Discarded tools laid outside rows of wind beaten tents. The kerai laborers frowned at their arrival. Others quickly changed course, not wanting to be around when the beating began. Clavo led the siblings to a collection of purple tents that housed the legionnaires on their monthly rotations from De-Asha.

    The foreman glanced up from his stool, stale bread in hand. Vir had always reminded Nia of a hairless cat. Vir¡¯s leathery skin barely covered his angular hips and jutting ribs. Vir covered his brown eyes and hissed through his overbite. ¡°Legate.¡±

    ¡°Foreman.¡± Clavo already sounded agitated. ¡°Let¡¯s take this inside.¡±Vir pushed himself up and bade them inside his tent. Nia sighed at the welcome temperature difference. Clavo puckered his lips as the foreman offered him wine. ¡°How is progress?¡±

    ¡°Slow. It¡¯s nearly summer and then men tire quickly.¡± Vir hissed onto the campstool behind his desk. He took a long sip of his wine.

    ¡°It needs to be ready. All of it.¡± Clavo clipped. His large hands unrolled the scroll from his side. Nia peered around Clavo¡¯s arms to see a schematic of the necropolis.

    Vir leaned forward in his seat. ¡°The Dunelands counteracts our process, trying to swallow the necropolis itself right into its maw.¡± Vir huffed wryly. ¡°You know it is an uphill battle.¡±

    The Legate¡¯s thick lips twisted. ¡°It will be ready should the Emperor choose to make the journey to see it. It must be presentable.¡± Clavo laid his ringed hand flat on the map. ¡°Now, about our other assignment.¡±

    ¡°The one you wrote about, yes, yes.¡± Vir¡¯s beady eyes pinched with displeasure. He took a long swig before answering. ¡°The men have cleared another shaft in the southwest wing as instructed. I¡¯m assuming that is where they come in?¡±

    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t one of your men do this?¡± Lero asked the foreman directly from where he leaned against the tent¡¯s post.

    Vir almost appeared apologetic. ¡°Because we don¡¯t want to incur the goddess¡¯ wrath.¡± Vir shrugged.

    ¡°And you say we are superstitious.¡± Lero grumbled.

    Clavo turned his bloodshot eye on her brother. ¡°Like it or not boy, your sister has use to the empire.¡± He barked. ¡°And I would think long and hard before testing my mercy.¡±

    Lero¡¯s face catapulted into rage. Tension hung thick in the dry air as Lero starred daggers at Clavo. Nia took a small step towards Lero, afraid her brother would snap at Clavo or worse. But her brother had always been better keeping a leash on his anger, and he kicked off the post, heading outside into the sunlight.

    ¡°Go.¡± Clavo barked. ¡°I don¡¯t have all day.¡±

    Once Anu-Uro-Set had been a temple necropolis for the goddess Sachmis; located halfway between House Xur and Hourse Uro. It had served as a refuge for those brave enough to journey across the Dunelands, or a final resting place for those who perished. Situated in the basin of a crater of limestone cliffs, Anu-Uro-Set had been carved painstakingly into the bedrock. The complex had been the last holdout against the Conqueror in his decade long war against the Kingdom of Ker. It was here Wyn-Kai the Betrayer had surrendered to the Conqueror.

    Over the decades the halls and porticos of the outer temple had sunk into the shifting sand. The front temple had never been rebuilt after the conflict, the porch a minefield of soot scorched lotus leaf columns. Only the complex¡¯s inner halls and necropolis remained. Nia trailed Clavo as they marched through the camp towards the cliffs. Four identical statues of the seated goddess stood sentry over the entryway. Nia¡¯s eyes trailed to the tall crowns atop the goddess¡¯ mane. The gold had long been pillaged.

    Purple banners swung in the breeze as they entered the cool caves. Ker laborers shuffled out of their way, all from the lower neighborhoods of De-Asha or the surrounding villages. Familiar shame flared through her at the sight. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

    They entered the first of many chambers. The foreman walked past the half-submerged statue of Sachmis. The anthropomorphic goddess sat on her royal seat facing westward. The goddess¡¯ hands were flat against her knees, as if attending court. Her vestments were gone, leaving ancient ruddy paint. Nia clenched and unclenched her left hand, pain radiating up her forearm.

    Vir led them down a wing of the temple Nia was unfamiliar with. They hiked through a confided hallway and waded through spiders and scorpions until they entered a small chamber. Nia¡¯s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the torches. The room was rectangular, the ceiling so low her brother could reach up and touch it. The room appeared to be an annex of some kind. The fresco¡¯s on the opposite wall covered by soot. A few legionnaires stood at attention as they entered.

    Clavo walked towards where they were waiting. He grabbed a torch from a legionnaire and kicked his boot towards the small shaft. ¡°This it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. This is where we believe the priests were buried.¡± The foreman answered.

    Clavo eyed the narrow tunnel. ¡°And no one has been down yet?¡±

    ¡°No sir.¡± A legionnaire responded.

    Clavo snapped at her brother. ¡°You, be her arms.¡±

    So that¡¯s why Lero had come. Of course Clavo would have noticed she could barely hold the reins of her horse, much less dig. And while Lero was significantly taller, he still was all thin muscle and sinew. Lero scowled and accepted a basket of tools from the legionnaire. He dropped a torch and it rattled down the shaft with a few thunks. Short then. Lero accepted the rope without a word and went first. Nia followed, her brother having to help ease her to the bottom of the shaft. Nia looked upward as five heads peered down at them. Clavo lifted the corner of his eyepatch. ¡°Start digging.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    The siblings spent the next hours chipping through the hardened mud layer to their left. Nia¡¯s injured hand cramped up immediately, rendering her useless. With anger radiating off him so fiercely Nia could nearly smell it, Lero regulated her to handing up baskets of discarded material as he dug. Clavo¡¯s boot kicked dust onto their heads as he grew bored. Flint was handed back down as they burnt through the first torch.

    CLING

    ¡°I heard something.¡±

    ¡°Brick.¡± Lero called back up to Clavo. Nia handed back up a basket of obsidian and sand shards that Clavo picked through before discarding.

    ¡°Well?¡± Vir begged.

    ¡°One second!¡± Lero shifted out of the crevice he dug carefully and handed Nia the chisel. ¡°She¡¯ll fit better than I can.¡± Nia got on her stomach and squeezed into the narrow opening. She eased the chisel carefully against the brick wall. Her chest thundered nervously as she released a brick from its ancient mortar. If this wall was supporting the earth above them, they could very easily be crushed to death. Nia continued the delicate process, carefully using the wood Lero handed her to brace the wall until there were three bricks free. Barely enough room for her to shove a torch through. Lero frowned as he passed her the torch.

    An air of anticipation traveled down the shaft.

    Nia stuck the torch through the opening and waved her arm back and forth. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the rows of painted death masks. This must have been the back wall to some of the crypts. The foreman was right, they had found the priests. Nia turned to her side as Lero squeezed in behind her. He peered through the hole, his face crumpling. Her brother opened his mouth.

    My how the mighty have fallen.

    Her fist slammed against the brick, startling Lero. ¡°Damn it! It¡¯s a dead end.¡± She yelled.

    ¡°WHAT?¡± She heard Clavo roar. Followed by shuffling and terse words.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Vir called down nervously.

    Nia motioned for Lero to scoot away. She rotated flat on her back and dug her feet to her chest as if she was scooting. She moved the torch back and forth to cast long shadows. She let the pregnant pause build. ¡°No foreman. Whatever this tunnel was, its a dead end.¡±

    ¡°Lero!¡± Clavo barked. ¡°Check yourself.¡±

    Nia made a production of trading places. Lero maneuvered further into the space. ¡°No sir. In fact, it appears the whole room could cave in on us if we go any further.¡±

    ¡°Stormlord below.¡± Clavo cursed. Lero helped Nia muscle her way up to the surface. The Legate¡¯s face was bright red. He stared murderously at the foreman. ¡°This was a waste of time.¡±

    ¡°I followed your instructions.¡± Vir said quickly. He held up his hands. ¡°I thought this room was it. I swear it.¡±

    Clavo pivoted his attention to the legionnaires. ¡°Seal this up.¡± He shoved a finger against Vir¡¯s chest. ¡°Next time, don¡¯t call me out here until you actually have something.¡±

    ¡°I know what you are up to.¡±

    Nia¡¯s eyes darted forward to the legate and then back to Lero as their horses approached De-Asha¡¯s gate. ¡°Keep your voice down.¡±

    ¡°We are far enough back he won¡¯t hear us. I saw you talking to that merchant Nia. What were you thinking? He¡¯s a trafficker!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a treasurer seeker just like the rest of them.¡± Nia dismissed. ¡°What of it? I can talk to merchants.¡±

    Her brother¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Admit it. You are going to flee.¡± Nia pressed a hand against her sternum. She still couldn¡¯t flatten her palm out. Cythe had removed her stitches and her hand now bore an ugly scar that ran index finger to wrist. She exhaled as her brother continued. ¡°I need to know why you did what you did back there?¡±

    ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    Lero sighed. His legionnaire armor was covered in a thick layer of dust and sweat. ¡°I need to know if there is good in you.¡±

    ¡°Good in me. Seriously?¡± She responded incredulously. Clavo whipped his head around at her raised voice. Nia waited for him to turn back ahead before responding. ¡°It just felt wrong, okay?¡±

    ¡°Yet you still raid.¡±

    ¡°What would you have me do? Join the legion?¡±

    His snarl was instant. ¡°I only have to do that because your mistake left me no choice.¡± My mistake. Nia¡¯s memory threatened to drag her back to that awful night. Lero¡¯s voice was low and dangerous. ¡°I became a legionnaire to protect you. Cythe bore the legate a son, to protect you. Our own mother kisses his feet, to protect you. ¡° And oh, how Nia hated the tenderness in his voice. ¡°And you would leave us?¡±

    ¡°I know full well the danger I¡¯ve put our family in.¡± Her voice grew watery. ¡°How could I ever stay knowing that?¡± She turned to Lero, her eyes threatening to brim with tears. ¡°I¡¯m a danger to you.¡±

    ¡°Baba left us.¡± Lero¡¯s voice was quiet.

    ¡°Baset exiled him and you know it.¡±

    Lero shook his head animated. ¡°No. He fled.¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t know how I could stay.¡± Nia hung her head in shame. If she ever released the aker inside the walls of De-Asha again she would die. Her family would be killed. She was the threat to them. Couldn¡¯t they see that? There was nothing for her in De-Asha. Nothing.

    Lero drew his horse closer. ¡°I need you to understand I will not abandon you or our House.¡±

    ¡°Well you are a better person than me, brother.¡± Nia said, thinking of the Peddler. She quickly wiped her eyes as Clavo pulled his massive warhorse up at the gate. A commotion of people were waiting for them. Clavo scowled down at his legionnaires.

    A scout quickly kissed his knuckles. ¡°Legate Clavo. I bare urgent news. Legate Xur, he has been, he has been,--¡±

    ¡°Spit it out man.¡± Clavo demanded.

    ¡°Legate Xur is dead. Sir.¡±

    Nia watched in puzzlement as shock slid over Clavo¡¯s broad face. His bloodshot eye narrowed in on the messenger. ¡°Legate Xur is ancient. Why are you coming to me with this?¡±

    ¡°The reports are that he was assassinated. Sir.¡±

    Clavo frowned. ¡°Not a word of this to anyone, understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± The scout shouted.

    ¡°I need to alert father.¡± Clavo whispered under his breath. ¡°Lero, with me.¡±

    ¡°Lero?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°Not now.¡± Her brother tightened his shoulders and rode after the legate.

 XV. Casting the Line

    XV. CASTING THE LINE

    The days slid one into the other as their fleet sailed past the coastline dotted with farms and vineyards. They were soon to arrive to the Sugian capital of Kinos. Around midday, Asho strode right past Admrilia and stuck his head inside the Conqueror''s tent. The Conqueror wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up annoyed. His eyebrows furrowed together as he laid his massive hands on his cedar desk. ¡°Close that and sit.¡±

    The prince lowered himself onto a wooden stool. The Conqueror¡¯s desk bore a map charting their course for the Triumph. They were currently a day away from Kinosl before they would march North into Iornore Territory. From there they would brave the desert to travel into the heart of Ker, and then sail back across the Semperimar to Pi-Yenja. If everything went according to plan, the triumph was posed to return home next summer with ships of gold, silver, weapons, grain, and tribute.

    Asho glanced up from the map and said with more bravado than he felt. ¡°I¡¯ve come to ask you a question.¡± The Conqueror waved him onward. ¡°What does it feel like when you tap into the wyrd?¡± Ever since they had left Thrysne Island some days ago, the prince had thought of nothing else as he stargazed.

    The Conqueror laced his fingers together. ¡°You know how the sky rumbles before it storms?¡± Asho nodded eagerly. ¡°You will feel that deep beneath your chest.¡±

    Asho nodded again and then lingered. He sat up straighter. ¡°And how do I accomplish that?¡±

    The Conqueror shuffled for a piece of blank papyrus and smacked it flat with his palm. He drew a line before Asho and himself in splotchy red ink. ¡®This prince is what I call a line.¡± He said in a moment of wry humor. ¡°It binds my wyrd to yours. It is stronger than my connection to any of the men outside this tent because we are blood. It extends past our flesh and to our lineage. Wyrdlings can sense these lines, these connections to the wyrd. This can be to man, to beasts, or even the dead.

    ¡°It is impossible for a mortal to grasp the wyrd in its entirety.¡± The Conqueror drew several small lines between them before crossing them out. His calloused knuckle decisively pushed the ink towards Asho. ¡°I can cast deep beneath the wyrd. I sense the wyrd of men. I sense the fears and the parts of our enemies they despise. And once you have this, you can cleave.¡±

    Asho sat, soaked in sweat as the Conqueror¡¯s pen idled above the page. ¡°I know your wyrd, prince. I know that you have hidden your impropriety from me. I know you despise yourself for your youth and experience, for your stubborn pride, for your mouth you can never keep sealed. I know everything about you down to how badly you hate yourself for your smell. I know, and have always known, that what you fear most in this world is not living up to the legacy of your birthright.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Asho¡¯s spine froze. He was trapped in the endless pits of the Conqueror¡¯s eyes. His throat swelled as if he was drowning. His jaw unhinged, and he took deep, gasping breaths. When words formulated, they were slurred. ¡°I will not fail you.¡±

    The Conqueror frowned and called in his centori. When he thought the god¡¯s eyes were off him, Asho pinched the cloth that was bunching around his sweaty armpits.

    Centori Tygris entered the tent and stood at attention. Asho suddenly felt self-conscious at Tygris¡¯ hardened expression and confident stance. The Conqueror pressed his palms flat. ¡°Prince, tell me what centori Tygris fears.¡±

    Asho hungrily thrust his gaze at the guard. Tygris¡¯ forehead was soaked in sweat from the demanding heat. Asho turned his attention to the armored chest plate that covered his sternum, then back to his disinterested brown eyes, then again to his sternum. Where was he even supposed to look? Asho hardened his gaze: like the Conqueror¡¯s; like the Stormlords. He stared at Tygris¡¯ dull expression until a headache was forming at the back of his skull.

    Then he shook his head, failure coating his face red with embarrassment. ¡°He wants to go home.¡±

    The Conqueror¡¯s expression eas dark and dangerous. ¡°You are dismissed.¡± Tygris marched out of the tent with enviable dignity. Asho braced himself for the hit. ¡°You are worthless.¡±

    ¡°Conqueror¡ª¡±

    ¡°Silence. Even your cousin with her Ker bloodline could grasp this concept. Get out!¡±

    Asho tore from the tent, pushing past Tygris as he flooded with humiliation. His feet demanded that he bolt, but there was nowhere on the trireme to run. He stilled, suddenly aware of his cousin¡¯s growing curiosity. Asho reached up to his burning cheeks and grit his teeth. He escaped below the decks of the ship until he found an empty storeroom. At least here his fists could bounce off the walls.

    The Conqueror¡¯s condemnation cut through him like a hot knife. You are worthless. The prince released a tiny, vicious laugh and kicked a nearby grain sack. He had been so eager for this moment to finally prove himself to the Conqueror. To step into the destiny that was his by birthright! He had a vow he had sworn to the Stormlord. He had to fulfill it. He had to school his eyes and dig into the chest of every filthy commoner he passed until an inkling of power rumbled in his chest. Because if not¡ª

    Doors slammed on the thought. Asho leaned against the cool hull of the ship and closed his eyes. He remembered the venerating screams as thousand of knuckles were thrust towards him. He remembered the warmth in his chest as Aegtrys screamed his name. He remembered the whispering promises of the stars as he had first held the wyrdstone.

    The Stormlord had spoken to him then.

    For as long as he lived, Asho knew that to be true. He exhaled slowly, letting the frustration release from his nostrils. Inhaling, he steadied himself and pushed off the wall.

 XVI. Kinos

    <ol>

    <li> KINOS </li>

    </ol>

    Sugia Territory lay immediately west of Aegtrys. The fertile hills were home to the goddess Inusgi, and her farmland overflowed with barley, rye, wheat, and cereal. A part of the Ashenian Empire for nearly a thousand years, Sugia¡¯s bosom would have sustained the Empire for hundreds more. These days, the Sugians enjoyed Ashenian citizenship, a luxury not shared by all, and the privileges that went with it. Their men could govern in Aegtrys, trade with foreign ships, and march under the Ashenian falcon to all corners of the continent. At this point, the Sugians viewed themselves as Ashenian as the islanders did themselves.

    So it was no surprise that Admrilia could hear the cheers from miles out before they had even reached Kinos¡¯ harbor. Across the first neptor, the men hastened to prepare for their arrival. Admrilia knew the neptori would be eager to get ashore and be released into the streets.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to be home.¡± Flavius said beside her.

    ¡°Will you visit your parents?¡± Admrilia asked her friend.

    The neptori¡¯s smile reached his grass green eyes. ¡°Oh yes.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    Alexandros patted Flavius¡¯ back. ¡°I¡¯d sooner die than miss his mother¡¯s cooking.¡± The stocky sailor laughed. ¡°You should join us Argenti, unless of course you are too good for us.¡±

    Amdrilia knew she shouldn¡¯t tolerate such talk from her subordinates, but it had always been different with Flavius and Alexandros. They had been trained together since seven. She trusted the pair with her life. Both had stood loyally by her side after what had transpired in Argyro. She trusted Alexandros and Flavius more than her own father, and she was thankful they had been promoted as her personal guard for the triumph.

    She smiled slightly. ¡°It¡¯s only food.¡±

    ¡°No Argenti!¡± Alexandros sounded aghast. ¡°Mama Dulcia is touched by Inusgi herself.¡±

    Flavius and Adrmilia shared an eye roll. Her lips threatened to quirk upward. ¡°Save me something if he doesn¡¯t eat it all. Now quiet, we''re almost there.¡±

    The Sugian Governor awaited them at the docks. Mynos Illum Agricola was a large, well-fed man. His body bowled and stretched against the seams of his bright blue robes. About the same age as the Conqueror, Mynos¡¯ warm eyes had sunk into the folds and wrinkles of his weathered face. Hif graying beard was delicately oiled and ornamented with beads. While the Emperor was refined and hard edged¡ªforever a military man, Mynos had released himself to the pleasures of old age.

    The Governor extended his hands and bollywood heartily. ¡°Welcome to Sugia, Emperor Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex, great Conqueror of Ker!¡± He broadened good naturedly as he bent to kiss the Conqueror¡¯s knuckles.

    The Conqueror¡¯s lips loosened. ¡°It is good to be back in Kinos, old friend.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d thought I would be long dead before you decided to get some fresh air.¡± Admrilia bit her cheek to keep her jaw from dropping. The Governor was speaking to the Conqueror as if they were old friends. Nearly equals. She quickly schooled her face as the Governor gave her a cursory nod. ¡°I see you have brought your grandchildren.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± The Conqueror waved them forward. ¡°Governor, may I introduce to you prince Asho Ashen Ashiphiex and princess Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex. My heirs.¡±

    Admrilia¡¯s jaw dropped as Mynos bent down and scratched the Conqueror¡¯s hunting hounds behind their ears. He looked up. ¡°I can see the resemblance.¡±

    Asho snorted. Mynos nodded as if pleased and bade them to follow.

    Kinos had cracked the bosom of the earth open for their arrival. The procession to the Governor¡¯s seaside estate made Admrilia openly gawk. Garlands of wildflowers draped window sills and entryways. Farmers bombarded the streets with crops and cattle shouting for the Conqueror¡¯s blessing. They openly wept as the Emperor blessed their children and possessions as they passed. Musicians played uplifting melodies on flutes and lyres. Poets sang from the street corners.

    The joyous crowd blended together the further into the city they traveled. An army of attendants led the triumph¡¯s inner party inside Mynos¡¯ red-roofed villa. They were guided through hallways packed with finely dressed noblemen. A woman in a colorful stola fainted as Asho threw her a passing smile.

    They were led to a large courtyard at the center of the estate. Admrilia¡¯s eyes adjusted to the sunlight. The Governor flung his arms wide and presented the spectacular tribute. ¡°Ships worth of grain.¡± Mynos said proudly. ¡°To feed our people and warm your legionnaires'' bellies.¡±

    The Kinos court swelled with guests upon the news of their arrival. Admrilia had planned on spending her week cataloging her tribute, but had been turned away by Advisor Khispen. A future Empress must pay her respects to the court of her closest ally. Go away Princess. Enjoy yourself. So instead of being useful, or even taking Flavius up on his offer to visit his family in the countryside, she was being weighed down by a small army of handmaidens.

    Occasionally she caught sight of Asho being whisked away on hunting trips. She ached to join them. Well, not them exactly. The young nobles who kept Asho company were the very same, throwing themselves against her cold, dead, unwed heart. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    She spent her first week in Kinos fighting off the suitors. Some puffed their chests and recounted long-winded stories of heroism. Others tried song, dance, or bouquets of wildflowers. A magistrate''s son was so brazen to pucker his lips around her knuckles. Her handmaidens had gasped when she sockped his ear.

    Admrilia loathed the attention. She knew she stood out in the Sugia court. Even as an heir to the empire, her existence was contrary to what the Kinos elite expected. Women in Sugia were prevented from joining the military and discouraged from engaging in public life beyond the domestic sphere. It had been much the same in Aegtrys. But there the senate had years to tamper their outrage when her father enlisted her at seven along with the other boys. Besides, at that point, the Conqueror was already running out of heirs.

    After an evening of particularly drivel discussion with the court¡¯s noblewoman, her handmaidens prepared her a bath. Admrilia resisted the urge to massage her temples as a handmaiden worked one of the clasps of her stola.

    ¡°I will get it.¡±

    The handmaiden, a girl of about fourteen with mousy brown hair flinched. ¡°Oh I apologize Princess. It¡¯s just, you are so tall you see.¡±

    Admrilia waved her off. It was unsettling, being dressed and undressed like a doll. Three handmaidens stood close together as she undid the clasp and threw the stola overhead. Admrilia fought a smirk as she caught glances darting up and down her muscular form.

    She threw off the offered hand and lowered herself into the warm bath. She sighed. Gods below.

    Soft hands began rubbing her feet and shoulders. Admrilia closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. Maybe she could finally find some peace after her long day.

    ¡°Maybe she has someone waiting for her in Aegtrys. A strong prince?¡± Wheat hair whispered.

    ¡°Or a strong neptori.¡±

    And the moment was ruined. Admrilia frowned and opened an eye. ¡°I can hear you.¡±

    Black hair actually squealed.

    ¡°Well Princess, do you have someone?¡± The brunette asked.

    Admrilia leaned forward on her elbows until the girl flushed deep crimson. ¡°Well, aren''t you a bold one?¡±

    Her eyes widened in horror. ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Argenti?¡± A male voice carried through her quarters.

    ¡°In here.¡± She called.

    ¡°Princess Admrilia!¡± Wheat hair objected. ¡°You cannot let him in here.¡±

    ¡°Why not? He may be my big strong neptori you inane hens keep clucking about.¡±

    ¡°Argenti? I brought you some food.¡± Flavius chose that moment to stick his head through the doorway. His green eyes widened. ¡°Uh, hello, I can come back later.¡±

    ¡°And let Mama Dulcia¡¯s legendary cooking grow colder still?¡± Admrilia lifted an arm out of the tub. ¡°Bring it here.¡±

    The handmaiden¡¯s face drenched with color as Flavius approached and raised the cloth. Admrilia reached for a slice of braised pork. Even a day old, the meat melted on her tongue. ¡°Mhm. That¡¯s from the gods.¡±

    Flavius beamed. ¡°Be grateful I got it. I had to pry the rest from Alexandros¡¯ fists.¡±

    Admrilia grabbed another bite. ¡°Oh really?¡±

    ¡°Inusgi spare my mother, he nearly ate my parents out of house and home.¡±

    ¡°Well he is a growing boy.¡± Admrilia said.

    ¡°How much more growing could he possibly do?¡± Flavius wondered aloud. ¡°He¡¯s the size of a horse.¡±

    ¡°Princess. I must say this is most inappropriate.¡± Ah, so wheat hair had found her voice.

    Admrilia sighed. ¡°Flavius is my trusted guard. He¡¯s sworn to guard me with my life, not deflower me in the tub.¡± Admrilia grabbed another bite, pairing it with the cheese. ¡°Gods that¡¯s good. Don¡¯t look so bitter. You, take a bite of that.¡±

    The black haired girl reluctantly set down her comb. Her brown eyes widened as she swallowed. ¡°Oh,¡± she said softly. ¡°That is wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? Dulcia is the most renowned cook in all of Sugia. Or so I¡¯ve heard.¡± Admrilia waved at her handmaidens. ¡°You three, take that into the next room and finish it.¡±

    The black haired girl went to grab the cloth eagerly. The blonde smacked her hand away. ¡°We cannot in good conscience leave the princess with a man.¡±

    ¡°Woman you won¡¯t be so quick with your tongue when I rip it from your mouth. You can guard my dignity from behind the door. Now move.¡±

    The woman looked like she had choked on a lemon. The other handmaidens dragged her from the room. Flavius watched them go, clearly amused. ¡°The gossip will run rampant by the morning.¡±

    ¡°Let them. It¡¯s hardly the first time a noblewoman has been romanced by her guard.¡±

    Flavius¡¯ nose pinched. ¡°I see future empress duties are going swimmingly.¡±

    Admrilia groaned and reached behind her for the comb. ¡°I should have gone with you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should have. Us lowborn make mighty good company.¡± Flavius smirked and eased down onto the tile. He grabbed the comb from her and eased it through her hair. ¡°How many times have you been proposed to this week?¡±

    ¡°Eight?¡± Admrilia squinted, trying to count. ¡°Or nine.¡±

    ¡°Persistent.¡± Flavius chuckled.

    She sighed. ¡°I wish they would leave me alone.¡±

    ¡°You are a woman now, Argenti.¡± Flavius softened. ¡°You¡¯ll have every eligible bachelor from here to Ker vying for your hand over the next year.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware.¡± Admrilia said as he ran the comb through her hair.

    ¡°It¡¯s just the reality.¡± Flavius said not unkindly. ¡°You knew this day would come.¡±

    ¡°At least you can avoid it.¡± Admrilia tilted her head back and looked Flavius in the eye. ¡°I have this¡ª¡±

    ¡°Duty to the Empire?¡± Admrilia sunk further into the tub. ¡°Well, I heard empresses get to make their own rules. Besides, you have your sisters.¡±

    She let out a choked laugh. ¡°Yes, thank the Skytops for that.¡±

    ¡°I should go before one of them has a heart attack.¡± Flavius pushed off the floor.

    Admrilia extended her arm. ¡°Or you could join me? Three birds with one stone.¡±

    Flavius laughed. ¡°And they say you don¡¯t have a sense of humor. Goodnight, Argenti.¡±

 XVII. The Hunt

    <ol>

    <li> THE HUNT</li>

    </ol>

    ¡°Son of a whore!¡± Ditas Agricola spat as the arrow whizzed through the air and impaired itself on a nearby tree. The stag¡¯s head was immediately alert. Ditas lowered his bow as the animal scampered off.

    ¡°We¡¯d be lucky to snare a rabbit at this point.¡± Asho quipped.

    ¡°Relax my prince. I will surely get the next one.¡± Ditas said through his teeth. The rest of their small hunting party exchanged doubtful looks.

    ¡°You should have let the prince shoot. Now way could he have missed.¡± Helpian pressed.

    ¡°Oh stop kissing his boots!¡±

    After a less than humbling pause Asho replied. ¡°True.¡±

    Marcus, the son of Kinos¡¯ legate sighed and gave the rest of them a wrap-it-up gesture. ¡°One day, Ditas, you may realize that fishing is more your speed.¡±

    Ditas gave Marcus a thin look.

    ¡°Man first the Argenti and then this.¡± Marcus whistled, ¡°It has not been your day.¡±

    Asho looked over. ¡°What happened with Admrilia?¡±

    Heliphan snickered. ¡°He asked the princess for her hand in marriage.¡±

    Asho threw back his hand and laughed. ¡°You did what?¡±

    ¡°Sugia is a tactical alliance for Aegtrys!¡± Ditas Agricola sat on a nearby log and reached for his water skin. ¡°But she would not hear of it. Even when I told her that I could keep up with her.¡±

    ¡°Let me assure you, nobody can keep up with Admrilia.¡± Asho said. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°That¡¯s what she responded with.¡± Ditas raised his voice. ¡°Perhaps my reputation has failed to proceed with me, Ditas Agricola. I am Argenti. I single handedly made the silver islands crumble with one ship. I have sent men to the bottom of the Semperimar before dawn.¡±

    ¡°I wonder what she does before noon.¡± Asho muttered sarcastically.

    ¡°It was unbelievable. Tell me, does she have somebody?¡± Ditas continued. ¡°Perhaps that we don¡¯t know about? Like maybe one of her guards. I heard the handmaidens telling a rumor that one of her centori visited her late at night.¡±

    Asho tilted his head considering it. He couldn¡¯t fathom Admrilia having a relationship with either Alexandros of Flavius. If anything Alexandros and Flavius would be together. Which was, well, whatever. Asho shook his head. ¡°I doubt it. Admrilia goes by the beat of her own power hungry drum. She¡¯d rather die than marry.¡±

    Heliphan snorted. ¡°See Ditas, if one of us were to slit your throat, you¡¯d have a chance!¡±

    Asho revealed in the afternoon sunlight as they hiked back up the trail. After yesterday''s hours-long meeting with the Conqueror¡¯s council, the fresh air had been a welcome release. Asho ran a hand through his curls and peaked through the forest¡¯s branches towards the cloudless afternoon sky.

    ¡°I have already directed one ship to send tribute down into Pi-Yenja to the prince¡¯s betrothed in anticipation of our arrival.¡± The Conqueror had said.

    As if Asho could forget his impending wedding. The end of the year weighed on him. The Conqueror¡¯s decision would determine the direction for the rest of his life. Whether he would be the next Emperor of their nation, or fade into obscurity. A worthless, nothing, loser.

    ¡°Where did you even learn archery anywhere?¡±

    Asho startled at Ditas¡¯ question. ¡°I spent four years in the north. The Ironsides are excellent hunters.¡±

    Marcus gave a hearty laugh. ¡°You are full of surprises, prince.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Ditas thought you wouldn¡¯t be able to so much as draw a bowstring.¡± Helpian called from up ahead.

    ¡°Oh, because he can¡¯t?¡±

    Ditas¡¯ laughter sharped. ¡°Of course not!¡±

    ¡°I am an excellent hunter.¡± Asho asserted. It¡¯s just that I¡¯ve lost my way, that¡¯s all. He eyed the stag out of his peripheral vision. Ditas seemed to notice as their party returned to their horses.

 XVIII. Towards East

    XXVIII. TOWARDS EAST

    Clavo overlooked the workmen¡¯s crates, his dirty fingers running along the seams of his eyepatch. Nia took another small pace back; when Clavo was in a mood this dark it normally preceded violence. Foreman Vir watched nervously as the legate paced around the crates. He held up a golden bangle, delicate and masterfully crafted with fine gems, and hurled it against the far wall. Vir flinched. Clavo grabbed the crate off the table and threw it to the ground. ¡°It¡¯s all useless! Get it out of here.¡±

    The foreman whistled and two legionnaires carried out the crates. Clavo wiped the sweat off of his scalp. ¡°And there isn¡¯t any other tunnel we can shove her into?¡±

    Nia frowned. Vir looked down at his boots. ¡°We¡¯ve already searched everywhere.¡±

    ¡°Well it has to be here.¡±

    Vir fidgeted with his cap. ¡°We get the orders where to dig from the legion. Our sources have run dry. We have dug everywhere you have ordered us to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware, thank you.¡±

    ¡°My men tell me that the legendary general is deceased. Stormlord bless him.¡± Vir continued. Clavo¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Sir. He was our last tie to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think I know that? I¡¯ve already written to my father.¡± Clavo snapped.

    Lero crossed his arms. ¡°Legate, are we in danger?¡±

    Clavo glowered at him. ¡°This conversation does not concern you.¡±

    ¡°I think it does. Is my sister, your wife, your son in danger?¡± Lero pushed. ¡°Legate, what is the Conqueror making us look for?¡±

    Clavo straightened his spine and faced them and for the first time Nia could see near panic in his eye. ¡°A star.¡± He said shortly. ¡°The Conqueror has ordered me to procure him a star.¡±

    ¡°A star?¡± Lero couldn¡¯t contain his surprise. ¡°The Emperor¡¯s having you dig up the desert for a star? Like one in the sky?¡± He pointed to the ceiling of the burial chamber. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    Vir held his hands up defeated. ¡°Only his esteemed imminence knows.¡±

    ¡°Foreman.¡± Clavo growled.

    ¡°Well, do you know what this mythical weapon looks like? For all we know you just shattered it into a million pieces!¡± Vir pointed to the broken bangle.

    ¡°That girlish bracelet is not what the Conqueror covers.¡± Clavo scoffed.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Vir¡¯s voice squeaked.

    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to know when I see it!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not enough to go off of!¡± Vir said. ¡°We¡¯ve been at this for years.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Clavo admitted. ¡°I suppose not.¡±

    ¡°Did Legate Xur not keep careful accounts of the siege of Anu-Uro-Set?¡± Vir asked.

    ¡°Of course he did.¡±

    ¡°And do you not have these records?¡±

    ¡°No. I?¡± Clavo began to pace. His hands ran along his bald scalp. Nia and Lero exchanged nervous looks. ¡°The legate was the last one alive to see the star. His records are kept with the other histories in the great libraries. We could ask him ourselves had he not just died.¡± Clavo grit his teeth. ¡°If we could get our hands on the journals then it could lead us where we need to look. The journals are property of the scholars.¡±

    ¡°I have men to spare.¡± Vir offered. ¡°To grab them.¡±

    ¡°I cannot send some legionnaire with a matter this important.¡± The Legate quickly dismissed. ¡°And I can hardly go myself. There is so much that needs to be done here. I¡¯d need to send a representative from the house directly, to show the Governor the severity of the situation.¡± Clavo¡¯s pale eye landed on Nia and Lero.

    ¡°Me?¡± Nia squeaked.

    ¡°Yes. You¡¯ve already been instrumental in the search, whether or not you realized it. You¡¯ll both go. I¡¯ll write you a letter to deliver to the Governor personally. You will go to Ash-Kai and request copies of Legate Xur¡¯s siege of Anu-Uro-Set. With luck it will give us enough time to locate the Conqueror¡¯s tribute by the time he arrives.¡±

    He wanted to send her to Ash-Kai. Nia swallowed her objections. She was bound by her mercy to Clavo. If she did not go, her family would be punished. If she failed to succeed her family would be punished. If Clavo did not find the star, whatever that was, then her family would be punished by the Conqueror. The ugly severity of the situation weighed down on her shoulders. She looked at the panic in Clavo¡¯s pale eye. Maybe they were in even worse danger than she had realized. The thought of it slid chills down her spine.

    By the time they left the necropolis it was already late afternoon. Lero said nothing as he saddled his horse, his anger mirroring her own. At the top of the crater Nia cleared her throat. ¡°I¡¯m going to ride for a while, clearing my head.¡±

    Lero turned his head sharply. ¡°You pick now to run?¡± He whispered furiously.

    Nia schooled her chin. ¡°I¡¯m not running.¡± But the aker wants to murder Clavo, and I need to go before I let her.

    ¡°Let her go Lero. It is by my mercy you breathe. She knows the stakes.¡± Clavo nodded, as if it was his will being carried out.

    Nia hated him. The aker¡¯s rage was so sharp, so close to the surface that she kicked into Ajaxi¡¯s sides. She had to get away from the man who had cost her everything.

    As she rode she allowed her fury to fester. She could not believe that Clavo would send her to the Kai¡¯s. Nia held no love for the House. They had surrendered to the Conqueror during the war. It was their fault that she had no control over her life. That Cythe was a wife and her brother a soldier and her a thief. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    It was nearly an hour later when Nia spotted the vertical structure. She spurred Ajaxi forward. The two story guard tower sunk into the earth at an uneven angle. Its spire, which one would have born a flag and firepit, laid further off in the dunes. Nia dismounted at her respite. The watchtower had been one of the first structures she had added to her maps when she had first started searching for a way through the Dunelands. It was far enough into the dunes that Clavo¡¯s men wouldn¡¯t strive from their familiar trails to find it. She had claimed the old building as her own.

    The first floor was covered in a thick layer of sand. Ajaxi harrumphed and laid in the shade. Nia wiped down his coat and fed him. Once he was content Nia climbed the ladder up to the next floor. The square room bore a similar scene to many she had discovered over the past four years. Remnants from a violent struggle. On the far wall a soot covered mural displayed a ram. The watchtower had once bellowed to the Great House of Xur. When Nia had first discovered the space, she had twisted her ankle tripping over a legionnaire¡¯s shield.

    Nia undressed slowly, placing her clothes neatly inside one of the cedar chests. Although she was prepared for it, the aiya still hurt like hell as the aker manifested. Her bones cracked as they were stretched and reformed; her mouth bled as teeth broke through her tender gums. She sank into the dark red sand of the Tuat as her consciousness was clawed away from her.

    Some time later Nia awoke naked. Her memory of the aker had already faded, but there were new scratch marks on the floor tiles. Nia got dressed and muscled herself up to where the roof had once been. She sat on the petrified wood support beam and dangled her feet in the open air.

    Night fell over the Dunelands. She fell deep in thought. The Conqueror¡¯s legionnaires had torched every settlement north of De-Asha during the Conquering. Xur was nothing but rubble and sun dried corpses. Where was there to go but Aker-San?

    Nia let out a frustrated sigh. It was only a matter of time before she displeased the Legate, or the aker got its vengeance. Nia wasn¡¯t strong enough to possibly stop the monster. And where in the Empire could she possibly go? She was kerai. Her existence was a death sentence.

    She was hit by the Peddler¡¯s clear disappointment. And then Lero¡¯s. Honestly, the two of them would have gotten along swimmingly.

    Promise me you won¡¯t abandon us Nia.

    Was it abandonment if it was just survival?

    Nia unsheathed the Peddler¡¯s dagger and spun it on the beam. Instinctively she knew the blade faced east. Nia tilted her head back out to the Dunelands. She could search them for a thousand lifetimes and still not find the pathia. She stared overhead at the Ashenian sky, out into the Ker dunes and back at the blade. Nia spun it again. East. A third time. East.

    Nia sheathed the dagger and frowned. Something niggled at the back of her mind. Something Clavo had said about the records from the Conquering being kept in Ash-Kai? The Conqueror had killed the navigators; burnt their schools; confiscated their maps. What if the way to Aker-San was not in the Dunelands, but on Ashenian soil?

    When Nia arrived back to De-Asha the following morning, her first stop was to confirm her working theory. ¡°You¡¯re still alive.¡± Merka said from behind his stall.

    ¡°Is that anyway to greet an old friend?¡±

    Merka waved her in from the street. He lifted up the countertop and walked Nia through the alleyway to his residence. He waved her inside. Nia coughed into her hand. The sweet smell of opium that clung to Merka and around his home always gave her a headache.

    The front room of Merka¡¯s hair was sparse, intentionally bare. A small alcove by the door held a shrine to the Ashenian lars. Thick rugs covered the mud brick floor. Upstairs Nia heard his girls chatting as they prepared for another workday. Nia eased herself down onto a colorful indigo and turquoise cushion. She knew beneath the rug was a trapdoor that led to an underground storeroom packed to the brim with treasure and opium. Nia watched the stout merchant return from the back of the house with two cups. She scrunched her nose at the bitter tea.

    ¡°I was beginning to think the Legate finally tired of you seeing how infrequently I see you.¡±

    ¡°He keeps me busy.¡±

    Merka eased down on his own cushion. ¡°And here I thought you were neglecting our friendship.¡±

    ¡°Our friendship has not been neglected.¡± Nia cupped her mug.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve come to ask a favor I have half the mind to report you to the Legate myself.¡± The merchant said.

    ¡°So we can both lose our fingers?¡± Nia¡¯s eyes darted to his missing pinky.

    Merka frowned. ¡°One was plenty.¡± He eased back onto his elbow. ¡°Tell me. What service can I provide you? Perhaps you can finally take up my offer and journey upstairs?¡±

    His look was downright lecherous. Nia¡¯s cheeks pinked. ¡°I think I¡¯ll pass.¡±

    ¡°I have boys. Girls, too.¡± He said after a moment. ¡°Both, if you¡¯d prefer.¡±

    ¡°I prefer neither, old friend.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps if you preferred one or the other you¡¯d stop being so tense.¡± Merka laughed at her expression.

    ¡°If only it were that easy.¡± Nia said tightly. She cradled the tea cup closer to her chest. ¡°I¡¯ve come to ask you a question concerning our arrangement.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°I-¡± She paused. ¡°After the war, the navigators were wiped out. But the maps, they had to have gone somewhere, yes?¡±

    Merka startled. ¡°Of course they did. The Conqueror ordered all the maps to be centralized in Ash-Kai.¡± Merka tilted his head to the side. ¡°Certainly you already know this? How else do you think your precious legate gets his routes? As to others, well, with influence? The rest of the Houses trade in goods, but the House of Kai trades in knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Nia said hurriedly. ¡°The Empire works to keep those maps under lock and key.¡±

    ¡°They do. Hya, it wouldn¡¯t do for the conquered to relearn how to navigate the Dunelands. Might spur some dangerous ideas.¡± Merka¡¯s brows rose. ¡°Why do you have such thoughts in your womanish skull? You cannot possibly be thinking of stealing from the Kai¡¯s!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Nia squeaked. ¡°Come now Merka. I''m not that stupid.¡±

    Merka looked doubtful. ¡°So I will not be seeing you for some time.¡±

    Nia leaned forward. ¡°No. The legate is sending me on business.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Merka¡¯s eyebrows narrowed. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not all.¡±

    ¡°More treason? How delightful.¡±

    ¡°I want to see the rest of my supply.¡± She flipped over her satchel on the table. It was the collection of grave goods she had been keeping at the watchtower. Fine jewelry; necklaces, rings, bangles, earrings; golden shras, thin knives. Nia had thought she would need the items later. Later was now.

    Merka picked at a small lion amulet, turning it over in his palms. ¡°You are planning on leaving soon, aren¡¯t you?¡± His voice was gruff, but there was some unspoken emotional undertone to it. Merka sorted through the goods, his hands flying in and out of his robes. Onyx, gold, ivory. ¡°My clients will not be interested in all of this.¡± He said coolly, four fingers holding up a coin.

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    Merka met her eyes. ¡°But I will buy it all. On one condition.¡±

    Nia bit her lip. The aker stirred. ¡°Name it.¡±

    ¡°While you are in As-Kai, you must keep an ear to the ground for information. Anything you find you must share. It¡¯s for business you see.¡±

    Business. Nia gulped, her eyes traveling to the stairwell behind him. Upstairs the girls were no longer laughing. She found her resolve. This was the trade she would have to make for her freedom. ¡°I accept.¡±

 XIX. The Symposia

    XIX. The Symposia

    On their final night in Kinos, the symposia was in full swing. Admrilia¡¯s eyes ate the room. For a philosophical gathering, there was not a lot of deep thought occurring. A dias had been constructed in the middle of the low couches where barely clad women danced on a raised platform. Admrilia watched their hips sway for a moment bristling as the room shifted its attention at her arrival. She was dressed for the evening in a rich indigo stolla. Her handmaidens had applied thick kohl around the rims of her obsidian eyes. The bronzer on her cheeks made them look rich and harsh at the same time.

    Admrilia waited a breath in the hallway, as if it had been her intention all along to allow the brazers to cast vengeful shadows over her face. With militaristic steps she moved cut through the couches and to the back of the banquet hall. Three couches were rotated to face a short u-shaped table overlaid with pork, chicken, and fruit. The Conqueror lounced on the central couch, looking at ease. His eyes locked on her momentarily as she kissed his knuckles.

    She settled on a couch to his right, across from the council members. A ker servant quickly poured her a glass and was quickly forgotten. Governor Mynos raised his hand in greeting. ¡°How do you like our symposia, Princess Admrilia?¡±

    ¡°I heard a symposium was for men to discuss matters of philosophy and politics.¡± Admrilia gestured her glass over to the dias. ¡°I see this is the philosophy in question?¡±

    Ditas Agricola let out a hearty laugh. ¡°The deep discussions happen after more wine.¡± He smiled good naturedly as he moved his hand under the table to pet the Conqueror¡¯s ancient hunting hounds. Admrilia disliked his smile immediately. It was too cocky, like Asho¡¯s when he was about to talk himself out of punishment. ¡°Drink to your first symposia princess!¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Admrilia¡¯s lips narrowed. ¡°I thank you for including me.¡±

    ¡°You are an heir to the empire.¡± Governor Mynos begrudged. The old man waved a hand towards the dancers. ¡°You are not like, well.¡± He shrugged to himself.

    Admrilia leaned forward. ¡°Like what exactly, Governor?¡±

    ¡°A common woman.¡± The Governor said slowly.

    Admrilia drove her dark eyes into his. ¡°I assure you I am anything but common.¡± She felt a familiar flash of indignation.

    Mynos nodded his head. ¡°Very well. Now say the Conqueror chooses you as his heir and you are to become Empress¡ª¡±

    ¡°When, when he chooses me as heir.¡±

    Mynos¡¯ slips slid. ¡°As Empress, will you live as a vira?¡±

    Vira. A woman who lives as a man. It was an old, archaic tradition, and Admrilia had never heard the word thrown like a slur before. Her jaw tightened. ¡°Now what would make you ask me that?¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Mynos set down his wine glass and held up a fist. ¡°Mother Skytops bore creation in her image. A woman¡¯s place is to nurture. Father Wyrd¡ª¡± He placed his palm over the curled fist. ¡°Protect the mother. Thus, it is a man¡¯s role to protect and lead the household. Or in this case, a nation.¡±

    Admrilia opened her mouth to respond but a low, methodical voice cut her off. ¡°Old friend, surely you do not believe this.¡± The Conqueror¡¯s pitless eyes slid to the governor.

    ¡°I am just departing from the benefits of a rigid society with your heir. Your esteemed excellency has pushed such a philosophy where everybody has their place. Is that not why we have kerai servants feeding us every meal in these halls and quarrying our rock and toiling our fields? Not all Ashenians believe a woman¡¯s place is to lead a great nation such as ours.¡±

    ¡°May I remind you that my own mother was a great empress who never married?¡± The Conqueror said.

    Mynos, to Admrilia¡¯s horror, met his dark gaze. ¡°And your mother faced much hardship in her reign. Many doubted the legitimacy of her rule.¡± And you, hung in the air between them. ¡°After all, is this not why we pushed into Ker when famine and mismanagement plagued the empire?¡±

    ¡°From Sugia¡¯s greedy noblemen hoarding for themselves. Empress Ayuan took care of the matters of the empire. Make no mistake, I went to Ker for my own glory.¡±

    ¡°That may be so.¡± Governor Mynos conceded. ¡°But you must attest that Empress Ayuan faced much opposition on account of her being a woman. And your heir?¡± Mynos looked Admrilia up and down. ¡°She is only half Ashenian. Her existence was a condition to the surrender of Ker. Her loyalties will come into question and I foresee her facing such hardships in the future.¡±

    ¡°You diminish me.¡± Admrilia said cooly. ¡°As if I were a small girl and not the future of our nation. To answer your concerns, governor, I am well aware that I have been born into a unique role with tremendous responsibility. Of course I anticipate opposition and hardship. It would be foolish not to. But my duty, above all else, is to the empire¡¯s people. The Ashenian people¡±

    Mynos'' old lips twisted into a wide smile, and Admrilia realized that perhaps, the old man was not nearly as invested in the argument as Admrilia was. Over the next two hours, Admrilia sampled candied dates, pickled olives, and thick slices of braised pork dripping in fat. The music grew fast paced and flighty as young noblemen began dancing near the raised dias. She watched with distant amusement as a brawl was separated by legionnaires.

    It did not miss her attention that Ditas Agricola was constantly looking at her. Gods below, why wouldn¡¯t someone sink this level of attention into Asho?

    He was lucky to be promised off.

    She painted her face with a placid smirk as the current of emotions threatened to overtake her. Admrilia had not seen Asho¡¯s betrothed since they were all eighteen. The thoughts of Iriku¡¯s midnight black hair, smooth as silk beneath her hands, jasmine scent, and thoughtful brown eyes took her back to the Serpent. To what Admrilia had done.

    She watched as Asho drank with a group of nobles. A bitter knife twisted into her ribs. She would swallow her shame and regret when they arrived at Pi-Yenja at the end of the year. She would stand straight backed and emotionless as the princess was married off to her ungrateful, hedonistic cousin. Her hands clamped down sharply at the thought it was her instead.

    No. That was impossible, immoral, illegal. Why was she allowing herself to have these thoughts again?

    Admrilia sipped her wine, letting the mulberry taste cloud the memory of Iriku¡¯s soft skin collapsing against hers.

 XX. Sky and Sea

    XX. SKY AND SEA

    Asho staggered back towards the dias and flopped onto the indigo cushion next to his cousin. ¡°You look grumpy.¡±

    Admrilia side eyed him. The Governor set his glass down and turned cautiously towards the Conqueror. He appeared nervous. ¡°Tell me, how is General Hortus faring in Aegtrys?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been pleased.¡± At the expectant look from the dias he continued. ¡°The general writes that the Senate is contained and the people are content. It has allowed me to mentally focus on the training of my heirs. Argenti shows great promise.¡± His lips twisted into an expression Asho faintly recognized as praise. ¡°You surely heard of her victory over the silver islands this summer.¡±

    Mynos stroked a hand through his beard. ¡°Quite the accomplishment.¡±

    Admrilia offered the Governor a shark-toothed smile. Asho felt his ears grow hot as the Conqueror gave an agreeable grunt. ¡°Yes. Her efforts will allow us to move into the region and get rid of the infestation once and for all. The silver alone¡­¡± The Conqueror trailed off. ¡°And she has shown comprehension of the wyrd.¡±

    ¡°Incredible.¡± Ditas said expressionless. He turned to Asho as he was attempting to eat his envy. ¡°And you prince, how is your wyrd training progressing?¡±

    The olives turned to oil down his throat. The Conqueror¡¯s mouth sealed. This was an expression was very, very, familiar with: disdain. ¡°It¡¯s going.¡±

    When Asho did not elaborate, the governor beckoned a kerai servant over to refill the glasses. He waved away the attendant. ¡°I¡¯m sure you will be a prodigy prince, just like your father. Skytops he saved the empire at the Battle of the Pines.¡± The Governor raised his glass to the table. ¡°To Ashen! A great man!¡±

    ¡°I never knew him.¡± The admission was out before he could chase it back. Asho quickly popped another handful of olives in his mouth to silence himself.

    ¡°The loss of a son is a small price to pay for the security of the empire.¡± The Conqueror brooded.

    The symposia ground to a halt. Asho¡¯s chewing suddenly too loud. His ears burned. Mynos¡¯ ancient eyes carried profound sadness. ¡°Skytops, you know that better than anyone, old friend. The sacrifices you have made.¡± The governor turned back to Asho. ¡°Well, I can see the resemblance. You have his eyes.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Asho whispered. Only his mother ever said that.

    ¡°The eyes are windows to one¡¯s wyrd. And to gaze upon ocean eyes such as yours, well, how could the Stormlord not destined you for greatness?¡±

    Warmth washed over him. Asho leaned back on the couch, snacking on cheese and olives as the symposia grew tired. Asho lazily fed the hounds scraps under the table while he watched the dancers. A centori approached the dias nervously, and Asho was immediately on edge. The guard whispered in the Conqueror¡¯s ear, handing him a missive. The Conqueror unfurled the papyrus and read quickly, the frown lines around his mouth deepening. The Conqueror turned to Mynos. ¡°End this.¡±

    Mynos stood. He raised his hands in the air and waited for the court to hush down. ¡°Friends!¡± He boomed. ¡°Our illustrious Conqueror thanks you for dining with him this evening. The time has come that his majesty wishes to retire. Please leave at once.¡± The room mingled for a moment more before sensing that there was no way for them to remain. The court filed out of the great hall. The Conqueror¡¯s council waited patiently on their couch, seemingly conditioned for the Conqueror¡¯s long contemplation. When they were at last alone, the Conqueror placed the golden letter slowly next to his untouched plate of food.

    ¡°I am drawn in two different directions.¡± The Conqueror said slowly. ¡°I have matters to attend to in the north, and a grave urgency in the west.¡± Those gathered dared not to interrupt. The Conqueror had once had a senator¡¯s tongue ripped out for cutting him off. ¡°We have just received a grave warning from the Governor of Ker regarding suspicions of an uprising in the region.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°An uprising? We must root out such a rebellion and extinguish it at once.¡± Advisor Clavo leaned forward.

    ¡°Agreed advisor, but there is more. Legate Xur has been assassinated. His warnings must be heeded.¡± The Conqueror¡¯s abyss-like eyes dug into his heirs. ¡°Yet I must continue to Iornore.¡± He frowned, displeased as he contemplated his decision. ¡°Very well. We shall split our forces. The prince shall attend me to the Iornoak and the Argenti shall take command of the first neptor. She shall sail to Ash-Kai and represent the crown¡¯s interests in my absence.¡± The Conqueror pointed at Admrilia. ¡°You shall find this rebellion and destroy it. We shall converge later and continue the Triumph.¡±

    Asho sat in a mystified stupor as the council discussed the logistical matter of splitting their forces. Advisors Khispen and Clavo where to travel with Admrilia, along with some of the Conqueror¡¯s centori. Asho sat as they talked over him, well aware his input was not wanted. The fading brazzers hiding his burning cheeks.

    The great droplets were a welcome distraction as Asho ran down the rain slicked steps of the hill to the beach. He collapsed onto the soaked boards of the dock, staring up at the cloudy sky for the stars. His mind simmered with self-resentment. He had been carted around Kinos and treated as a guest needing watching at all times. He was nothing but a second rate legionnaire next to his cousin¡¯s tactical brilliance. He was so untrustworthy that he was being kept under the watchful eye of the Conqueror instead of being entrusted with the empire''s interests.

    And worse, the Conqueror had made the correct call. He was immature and childish and too interested in the finer pleasures of life to be considered worthy for the task. And yet¡ª

    How could you not be destined for greatness?

    Asho rolled over and covered his face in frustration. THe rain continued to pelt at the back of his skull. Footsteps approached and then paused as they noticed him. ¡°We have got to stop meeting like this.¡± Asho said, propping himself up on his elbows.

    Silence greeted him. So they had been drawn to the same spot. Fitting. Of course they wanted the same view to contemplate the destiny that only one of them could hold.

    ¡°Is that why you ran out here?¡± Admrilia¡¯s voice was tauntingly low. ¡°Are you jealous?¡±

    ¡°Jealous? Of what? That stick up your ass?¡± He hiccuped and rolled onto his haunches. Of course he was jealous of his cousin. Admrilia had everything he never did. She had two parents who loved her, siblings who adored her, a crew who respected her. Asho had nothing but a dead father and a mother drowning in too much grief and wine to be present in his life. The thought filled him with envy. Asho frowned as he stood. He gazed up into the rainclouds. ¡°I will be the next emperor.¡± The words tumbled out quickly then. ¡°I will rule this empire, and I will not let anyone get in my way.¡±

    Shadows obscured his cousin¡¯s face, but he knew Admrilia caught his words¡¯ bite. The ugly resentment, the growing hatred. Asho tightened his fist as he admitted the truth to himself. He wasn¡¯t just jealous of Admrilia. He hated her.

    ¡°If you are so tied up in destiny Asho.¡± Admrilia¡¯s voice was colder than the air of the shoreline. ¡°Then look up at your precious constellations and tell me if we are to be rivals.¡±

    His stars were obscured by the torrential downpour. ¡°Only one of us can be his heir.¡± He intoned. ¡°That, by its virtue, has made us rivals since birth.¡±

    Admrilia took a step forward and Asho finally saw her thunderous face. ¡°Do you know why Pi-Yenja is in such chaos? Their nation is constantly broken into a thousand shards because of their traditions. Do you really want to be reduced to an ascension?¡±

    An ascension was a Pi-Yenjan tradition where all of the Emperor¡¯s sons fought to the death for control of their country. The disputes could last for decades.

    ¡°And what would you rather me do?¡± Asho snapped back. ¡°Let you become a general so you could throw a coup? I know you Admrilia and you are power hungry.¡±

    ¡°You act as if you would ever be Emperor.¡± Admrilia scoffed with disbelief.

    ¡°I will be.¡± Asho said fiercely. He stepped forward until he was a step away from Admrilia. ¡°I am the son of the hero who saved the Empire. You are nothing but the half-blooded daughter of a coward!¡± Admrilia¡¯s stony mask slid as Asho pushed onward. His words as sharp as any sword. ¡°It is a good thing we are splitting up. The Conqueror may trust you to represent him in Ker. But I know you will betray him. It¡¯s in your treacherous blood.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re delusional.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°No. I am destined.¡±

    ¡°Destined to drink yourself blind in Iornore.¡± admrilia crossed her arms. ¡°Is this it then? You are declaring me dead to you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, cousin.¡± Asho straightened his shoulders. He hardened his gaze: like the Conquerors; like the Stormlords. Asho lowered his voice to just above an icy whisper. ¡°It¡¯s over. I disown you Admrilia. When I see you again, make no mistake, you will be my rival.¡±

 Conqueror Entry # 3

    Wed your allies

    shower them in gilded promises.

    Bed you enemiesThe tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    the blade stills closeby and secrets make

    for the most companionable of bedfellows.

    ¡ª An excerpt from a letter from Empress Ayuan Akota Ashiphiex

    To Prince Atesh Ayuan Ashiphiex.

    Year 3 of the Conquering

 XXI. Within the Whispering Trees

    XXI. <strong style="font-family: "book antiqua", palatino">WITHIN THE WHISPERING TREES

    The Triumph left the first neptor at Kinos and marched their large party into the countryside. The prince¡¯s skin reddened and blistered, and then tanned. At dawn, he rose and quickly secured his bedroll to Hellion¡¯s flank. Then he rode for several hours past abundant fields of wheat and barley. At dusk, he trained alongside the legionnaires with the gladius. As he maneuvered around olive groves through the forms of blocking, thrusting, and parrying, the Conqueror watched on with sealed lips.

    Days later, the Conqueror whispered to him the names of the legion¡¯s formation as they sat on the crest of a grassy hill. Turtle: the legionnaires lined up in a defensive shield around the valuable assets. Snake: the men marched four abreast at a fast pace across hard terrain. Shark: the legionnaires marched forward with their swords. Falcon: The army swiftly rained down arrows upon the enemy before advancing. And finally¡ª the maw¡ª where the opposing army was lured forward and then swallowed.

    As they progressed further inland his time with the Conqueror shortened. The emperor left him in charge of his council to attend to matters of the empire. The Conqueror isolated himself in his large tent as the days blended together; scrolls streaming in and out in a steady pulse of purple scrolls.

    The prince shoved his focus into the legions drills. He preferred the burning sensation of his muscles to the sting of the Conqueror¡¯s disappointment. Asho took lessons in history, geography, and politics with the council on their long afternoon rides. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    As the warm summer nights grew weaker, Asho rolled his bedroll out in the grass. He gazed into the milky abyss of the heavens and fell asleep to the warm comfort of the universe. In his dreams the stars whispered to him, wyrdling, wyrdling. The prince responded that he was coming, but he did not know where.

    The weeks passed into early autumn. The prince waned from their travels. They visited with magistrates and Sugian nobles. He danced late into the night with their sons. He was showered in gold; in silver; in spices. Some threw women or men eager to hunt his way. The prince waved off the cups and companions.

    In Kopperstone, the prince listened to war stories of the lost legion. Everyone had a story of his father, but the prince could never contribute to when he was expected to speak. He had forgotten the sound of Ashen Ayuan Ashiphiex¡¯s voice.

    The prince allowed his beard to grow. He stood up straighter, washed more frequently, and imitated his cousin¡¯s sureness when he spoke. His hands grew steadfast on the spear and gladius. And while he could not cast the line and hook the wyrd, Asho reckoned that it beaconed to him when he rolled out his bedroll and gazed upon the stars.

    The Triumph passed the olive and apple groves into the dark foothills of Iornore Territory. The Conqueror¡¯s mood darkened. They were far removed from the protection of the Stormlord this far north. The forests whispered. Even the hardened centori held their spears close as if expecting a cruel prank from the horned god. The prince gazed out into the rich ironwood trees, fighting the urge to get lost in them. The trees parted to reveal clusters of circular villages with unpaved and erratic streets. Asho dug his gaze into the peasants and cast the line ¡ª searching for their fears, but was only ever met with embarrassment and failure.

 XXII. At Sea

    XXII. AT SEA

    The Semperimar was calm as the first neptor made their stops along the continent¡¯s coastline. Admrilia¡¯s days fell into a busy routine spent keeping careful stock of the tributes and dispatching ships back to Aegtrys. The grain from Kinos was already well on its way to being distributed among the small towns and villages that lined Aegtrys Territory¡¯s coast for the upcoming winter.

    Inside the Conqueror¡¯s large tent, Admrilia ran a hand along the Conqueror¡¯s map of the empire, her thoughts drifting to what Asho would be doing in that very moment. She was certain that Asho would drink and whore his way through Iornore. So what if he received training in the wyrd at the Conqueror¡¯s side? The Conqueror could hardly stand Asho¡ª

    Besides, her cousin had always had grandiose notions of himself. Surely his hubris would be his downfall. And, the Conqueror had trusted her, not him, to root out a rebellion. Admrilia¡¯s hand found the letter that had been delivered to the Conqueror back in Kinos. She had reread the missive so many times she knew it by heart.

    Atesh the Conqueror: Divine Emperor, Stormlord Chosen, First Citizen of the Ashenian People, and he who is most merciful, it is I, Wyn-Kai, Governor of Ker, writing with the most grave suspicions concerning your personal safety as you embark on your most honored Triumph.

    There are whispers of a rebellion brewing throughout Ker Territory. The kerai in the remaining Houses may be planning to overthrow your legions. I have recently received the most horrible news that the honorable Legate Xur has been assassinated. The House of Sky is in chaos. More of your Houses may be on the brink of uprising.

    Please be cautious in your travels.

    Your humble servant,

    ¡ª Wyn-Kai

    Governor of Ker Territory

    This was her mission. To be sent to the capital of Ker Territory, to root out a rebellion and crush it beneath her fist. She had done it before, she was the Argenti. Admrilia pressed the papyrus back down on the desk. And it will not be like last time. Her scowl deepened as Advisors Khispen and Clavo dipped their permanently balding heads into the tent. Of course the Conqueror would not have left her completely unsupervised¡­

    ¡°What news.¡±

    Khispen looked down his shrewd nose as he kissed her knuckles. ¡°Yes, Argenti. The ships have been making steady progress as anticipated.¡±

    Admrilia nodded. ¡°And of Ker?¡±

    ¡°I have written to my contacts, Argenti.¡± The senior Clavo¡¯s voice was calm. ¡°My son has yet to respond.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I trust you have informed all of the legates of Triumph''s changes.¡±

    ¡°I have, and I will inform you at once when I receive a response.¡±

    ¡°And from the Emperor?¡±

    ¡°No news.¡±

    Admrilia bit the inside of her lip to hide her disappointment. ¡°Very well.Thank you both?¡± Advisor Clavo bowed stiffly and took his leave. Khispen stood halfway between the desk and the tent flaps. ¡°Is there anything else?¡±

    ¡°In fact, there is. News from Aegtrys.¡± Khispen pulled the missive from the folds of his never ending robes. Khispen¡¯s arthritic hand held the letter aloft for a honeyed moment before passing it off.

    Admrilia eyed the seal. ¡°If you¡¯d excuse me.¡±

    The letter smelled of her mother¡¯s cyprus as she opened it. The letter was written in kiyr cypher, and Admrilia cracked a smile. She spent the next hour deciphering her mother¡¯s letter.

    Daughter,

    I trust that you are well. Your father has received news that the Conqueror has continued to Iornore while you sail for Ash-Kai. The Conqueror is wise in his council.

    It hits me that we have never discussed much of my homeland. This is entirely my fault. You were sired and raised for your role to the Ashenian Empire. I see now the potential error of this. Forgive me if I am belaboring your beloved tutors.

    The Kingdom of Ker was once a collection of ten noble Houses. The Houses were run by their ruling families, and coexisted in their separate territories. Fifty years ago, when the Emperor had his conquest he eradicated the House of the River, the House of the Valley, the House of the Ram, and the House of the Embalmers. The remaining Houses joined forces and fled into the Dunelands, seeking aid from the First House.

    The Conqueror¡¯s legion followed and laid siege. The carnage was terrible as the survivors were trapped with no food or water. My father, the wise Wyn-Kai, negotiated a surrender. Some in Ker call my father ¡®The Great Betrayer¡¯ but make no mistake, my father saved Ker. For the Conqueror can¡ª

    Admrilia groaned in frustration. Her mother had scratched out several lines of blocky text, clearly changing her train of thought. Adrmilia scanned to where the letter picked back up.

    While I pray that a brewing insurrection is nothing but a fantastical plot, I fear the worst. I would turn to the remaining Houses with surviving members of the old ruling class. They have lost everything to the Conquering. My father, as a loyalist to the Empire, has no shortage of enemies.

    Attached to this letter is another for my parents. Please present it to them and enjoy their company as much as possible in my absence. I hope you gain an appreciation, if nothing else, for my homeland.

    Duty Above All,

    ¡ª Raja-Kai

    Admrilia took the enclosed parchment and stashed it away. She  brought the letter to her nostrils, inhaling its scent of cyprus and salt. She watched as the candle flames ate the words. When she left the Conqueror¡¯s tent hours later the clouds had swelled and burst with warm rain. The droplets hit her tongue as she went below decks to retire.

    Her dreams were occupied with honeyed memories of the tidepool¡¯s water trailing up her calf. Then the water rose further up her thigh, sliding around her torso and along her back. She effortlessly coaxed the Semperimar to the edges of her fingertips. And then, a watery hand seized her throat, dragging her down to an abyss darker than the Conqueror¡¯s eyes.

 XXIII. The Ironoak

    XXIII. <strong style="font-family: "book antiqua", palatino">THE IRONOAK

    Asho tightened his grip on Hellion¡¯s reins as the massive warhorse came dangerously close to decapitating a few heads. Iornore¡¯s narrow streets that switchbacked through the city had not been built to contain the sheer amount of people. The city had swelled with the population who had amassed for the triumph¡¯s arrival from the surrounding villages. Men bowed their heads and pressed up against the legionnaires¡¯ shields as they maneuvered past the wooden cabins. The wooden walkways that connected the cabins above the streets were bustling with children dangling their legs over the planks. They waved purple strips of cloth. Asho smiled up at them. He had always felt welcomed in Apki¡¯s mountains and among his people. This had been his home for three summers, and he basked in his arrival after the long journey.

    I¡¯m finally home. He thought. He cherished the crisp, cool mountain air as Hellion¡¯s hoove dug into the next switchback. The crowd roared upon spotting them. After another tedious hour of winding through the dense cabins, the Triumph crested the ridge. The air grew cooler still, more ancient, more potent, as they left the screaming crowds behind them. The prince coaxed Hellion forward as the Ironwood trees on either side of the road swelled in size. We¡¯ve entered the land of the gods now. Asho thought as they came upon the legendary Ironoak.

    The prince¡¯s mind could never conceive where the Ironoak truly began, and where it ended. It simply was. Roots shot through the clumpy red soil as thick as horses, digging and rising through the earth. Asho ran his hand along a root as Hellion ducked to pass underneath the overhang. The rust brown tree¡¯s bark was as hard as metal. His ocean eyes craned upward. The legendary tree¡¯s branches reached far out over the forest like a dancer¡¯s limbs. With it being midsummer, the Ironoaks forest green leaves shaded the entire clearing. The base of the mighty Ironoak was preposterously colossal; the perimeter easily the length of two triremes. It rumbled with the same ancient, undeniable power as Thrysne Island.

    The Governor¡¯s great hall had been constructed on the forest floor and extended up the Ironoak with a series of platformed structures. The following rungs were connected by a series of ladders, bridges, and stairwells. The platforms roofs were slanted, built with the strong ironwood to fuse with the organic structure. The prince had always considered the Ironside¡¯s home to look like a pinecone, with the middle rungs bulging out before narrowing at the ninth rung.

    The prince shifted on Hellion with anticipation as the triumph fanned out. The Governor¡¯s party was already waiting for them. Governor Ream Ironside was a stout, burly man, with a rust red beard that had begun to fade grey in the two years since Asho had last seen him. The Governor approached the Conqueror¡¯s horse and kissed his knuckles. He was followed by his wife, the Lady Maple, and his children. Kohl gave Asho a lopsided smile as he met his eye. Even from atop Hellion Asho could tell that his friend had grown considerably taller. His hazel wood eyes almost hidden by his overgrown rust red hair and beard.

    A candle lit within him at the sight of his younger sister. The prince hungrily drank in Morgane¡¯s juniper green dress as it hugged her curves. A bronze hair clip pushed her fire red curls behind her ears and exposed her freckles and mossy green eyes. She had filled out in their years apart, her face losing the roundness of adolescence.

    Asho ran a thumb against his chin and the beard growing there. He flexed his arms when he caught her looking. The prince smirked as her face turned beet red. Morgaine never could hide her blush.

    The next three days were blissfully quiet. After months marching northwest, Asho relished the opportunity to relax and reconnect with the Ironsides. His meals were spent at the Governor¡¯s table. Ream Ironside loathed court life, and his preference to dine privately with his family was well known. Without a hall of eager retainers, it was effortless to melt into easy conversation. Governor Ironside filled the table with his carefree banter, often getting so drawn into a story that his wife would have to throw him a rope to pull himself out. Even the Conqueror, for all of his stiltedness, would grunt in amusement on occasion. After a couple of drinks, Ream¡¯s hearty laugh rumbled throughout the wooden walls of his fortress.

    After dinner one evening, Asho followed Kohl up onto the ninth ring of the Ironoak. High above the forest floor, as the wind whipped his hair, Asho felt  more at peace than he had for a long time.

    ¡°Here, brother.¡± Kohl said, passing over a skin.

    Asho accepted the mead and took a long sip. He leaned over the platform¡¯s railing, starting out into the dark clearing below. Up above, the stag was so close that the prince could trace the stars with his fingers. He passed the skin back to his friend. ¡°How is the legionnaire life serving you?¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°The coast is bare and desolate. The nearby villages have reported that no one has attempted to cross since, well.¡± Kohl shrugged. ¡°But enough about my boring station. How goes your travels?¡±

    Asho thought of the bootlicking Ditas and the other magistrates who vied for his attention. ¡°They are a poor substitute for your company.¡± He said shortly. ¡°The march here was long, eight, twelve hours a day of heavy riding. We only stopped to sleep when we ran out of daylight.¡±

    ¡°Surely you prefer it over Aegtrys. In your letters you said you loathed it.¡±

    ¡°It was the two most boring years of my life, truly. Sea life is not for me.¡± Asho sighed, thinking back of the two years spent patrolling Aegtrys¡¯ coast and the parties he had held to starve off the loneliness he felt. He didn¡¯t want to mention his pursuits in front of Morgaine¡¯s brother.

    Kohl took a long swig of the mead. ¡°Well. I¡¯m glad to see you now. Even though the Governorship is dreadfully dull. All my father does is attend meetings and listen to the people complain about their taxes. But I will do it, on your behalf¡ª¡± Kohl paused dramatically. ¡°While you marry my sister and make disgusting little babies.¡±

    Asho¡¯s ears grew hot. Marry Morgaine? As if! Morgaine, who had gone from Kohl¡¯s sister into a beautiful spitfire of a woman. Who made Asho¡¯s insides burn red hot every time her moss green eyes landed on him. He let out a choked laugh. ¡°The Conqueror has promised me to some Pi-Yenjan princess by the end of the year.¡±

    Kohl cleared his throat. ¡°You could marry the princess off to your cousin.¡±

    ¡°Admrilia?¡± Asho snorted. ¡°I doubt the priestesses would take kindly to that.¡±

    ¡°What? She acts like a man anyways!¡± Kohl snorted. ¡°If she was here now she would be ordering us around in our own home. Remember that one time when she flung you into the harbor.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Kohl.¡±

    ¡°And when you finally surfaced you had kelp on your head.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was there. And that was years ago.¡± Asho said exasperated.

    Kohl smiled and settled against the wall. ¡°Those were the days.¡±

    Asho took another swig and stumbled as he stood. ¡°Asho¡ª¡± He snapped, raising his voice to match Admrilia¡¯s unchanging pitch. ¡°You must respect your position and act like a true heir to the empire. Why I single-handedly sent three hundred poor pirates to the bottom of the Semperimar today.¡± He flicked his imaginary hair back. ¡°The Conqueror will be so pleased. Cousin, I made water flow uphill today, what have you done? Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Kohl shook his hand through a fit of laughter. ¡°Asho, what was that last part?¡±

    Asho sat back down, growing serious. ¡°The Conqueror has made Admrilia and I swear an oath to the Stormlord.¡± He whispered, sentencing his friend to know his damning secret. ¡°He will only select one of us as heir if we are able to tap into the wyrd. The magic that has killed the rest of our line. I¡¯m scared, Kohl. Admrilia has already begun to figure it out. Because of course she has. She¡¯s perfect at everything while I¡¯m a dynastic disappointment.¡±

    ¡°You are not a dynastic disappointment, Asho.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve spent the past two years hosting parties on a senator''s barge and turning every noblewoman in Aegtrys against me.¡± Asho said. Kohl raised a knowing eyebrow as Asho continued. ¡°And I¡¯ve sworn this oath to my bloodline. And my god. And I think, I think I will not fulfill it. The Conqueror doesn¡¯t favor me. He will choose Admrilia. And I will rot away in some Pi-Yenjan court if Admrilia doesn¡¯t get to me first. I will fade into nothingness!¡±

    ¡°Asho, you need to stop.¡± Kohl ordered, any earlier mirth replaced by steel. ¡°You are catastrophizing. You will become Emperor, and if it truly comes between you and your cousin, my family will stand beside you.¡±

    ¡°It already has.¡± Asho stared up at the stag as it ran from the hunter. ¡°I declared her my rival in Sugia.¡±

    Kohl whistled. ¡°I¡¯m sure she took that swimmingly.¡±

    Asho hiccuped.

    ¡°Asho, your grandfather is a wyrdling. You are a literal descendant of the gods. Your lifeblood is tied to the very Skytops! But you are also human.¡± Kohl offered him his trademark smile. ¡°And to be human is to challenge the gods. You will be alright. I swear it. And think, you are in the Horned Gods land. In his very seat of power. The wyrd flows through this tree. Where else would you get a better opportunity to practice?¡±

    ¡°Thank you brother.¡± Asho said. He exhaled, composing himself. Steeling himself. Eyes hard. Like the Conqueror¡¯s; Like the Stormlord¡¯s. ¡°Now tell me what I have missed since I have been gone.¡±

 XXIV. Ash-Kai

    XXIV. Ash-Kai

    The Kerxa river flowed into the lush farmland that surrounded Ash-Kai. The city¡¯s colorful gates shimmered in the mid-morning heat. An oasis at the edge of the world. The well-kept road was lined with mature palms and swelled with other travelers. They were ushered in through the unguarded gates and into the territory¡¯s capital. Later that morning, Lero spotted a bathhouse, and they paid to wash off the weeks of travel.

    Nia was still pulling down the hem of her nicest tunic as they exited back out into the marketplace. She had braided her hair in the bathhouse in a half-assed attempt to make her seem somewhat presentable. She gnawed her bottom lip, worried. ¡°Do you honestly believe the Governor will meet with us?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why he wouldn¡¯t. We have the letter from Clavo, and I am a legionnaire.¡± Lero gestured down to his armor. He stopped walking as a shopkeeper rushed past with a cart of freshly baked bread. ¡°Watch where you''re going! What¡¯s the hurry?¡±

    The whole marketplace had that frantic air. Thousands of people were milling about near the fountains and shops. The stallowners yelled out their hot bread and freshly caught fish. Her stomach rumbled as they passed a stall with chicken skewers. Her stomach grumbled, the scent of tangy chicken, pickled fish, and honeyed dates invading her nostrils. Across the way, a group of men worked together to hang a string of paper lanterns in a nearby alleyway. A boy knocked into her hip and ran past with purple strips of cloth tied to a long stick. Nia quickly checked to make sure the Peddler¡¯s knife was secure at her side. ¡°Do you suppose there is a festival tonight?¡±

    Lero shrugged, stopping at a nearby stall to buy some oats for their exhausted horses. They maneuvered back out in the crowd, the heat stifling. The tall towers of the governor¡¯s estate loomed overhead. Nia remembered again that they were about to meet the man who had surrendered the Houses, and all of Ker over to the Conqueror. Wyn-Kai the betrayer. The aker growled and Nia ran her knuckles along her sternum to sooth the beast.

    The shops and apartments gave way for larger, walled off villas. Their doorways proudly display banners of the Ashenian falcon. A legionnaire stood guard as a group of young children played in the street, laughing as they kicked a ball back and forth. Bitterness punched Nia in the gut as she steered clear of the group. In De-Asha no occupied child would willingly go near a purple cape.

    The Kai¡¯s estate was walled off from the surrounding city. The fortress¡¯ towering walls are several stories taller than the nearest roofs. Ashenian flags flown beside the white ibis crest. Legionnaire¡¯s manned the steps leading up to the compound¡¯s gates.

    ¡°Here goes.¡± Lero said. Nia trailed her brother as he neared the nearest legionnaire. Her brother kissed his knuckles and extended them outward in a quick salute. ¡°Greetings. My sister and I have rode for the past fortnight to seek the Governor. I bear urgent news from my commanding officer, Titus Crassus Clavo. Legate of the ninth legion.¡±

    The legionnaire waved them through. ¡°The stables will be on your right hand side when you enter the estate. Please seek out a magistrate for rooms and for an audience with the Governor.¡±

    That was painless enough. Nia thought with surprise. Lero nodded his thanks and they entered the House of the Ibis. After passing their horses off to the stablehand and collecting their bags, Lero and Nia walked through the grounds. The gardens were overflowing with palm, date, and pear trees. Shallow ponds ran alongside the limestone walkways. Directly up ahead was the pristine portico of the Governor¡¯s Hall. To the right of the grounds led to an equally ostentatious building.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Great Library of Ash-Kai.¡± Lero said, nodding over to where white robed scholars walked up the marble steps. Nia eyed the sculpted columns as they led up to a terra-cotta roof. So that was a library. She had never been in one before; the old building in De-Asha had burnt during the Conquering. It had never been rebuilt. She mused that if it had, she may have spent a foundational amount of her childhood within its walls. That was, if the legate had ever allowed her to learn to read. The kindling need to explore each and every corner of the building for the pathia raged against the fear of getting caught. She pressed her knuckles against her sternum. The aker seemed unusually aggravated today.

    Inside the atrium of the House they found an attendant and were quickly deposited to a guest quarters. After dropping their bags off in their shared rooms, they met back out in the hallway. ¡°Now what?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°Now we find Wyn-Kai.¡± Lero led them back down the hallways the servant had taken them. They were back in the imposing atrium. Lero waved down the nearest white cloaked scholar as they busied past, their arms overlaid with scrolls. ¡°Excuse me. We are here to have an audience with the Governor. It¡¯s urgent.¡±

    ¡°Everything is urgent!¡± The scribe said irritably. ¡°Can¡¯t you see I have my hands full? Just go wait outside his office and wait your turn like everyone else!¡±

    ¡°And where might his office be?¡± Nia asked.

    The clerk rolled their eyes. ¡°Down the hallway to the right!¡± He left in a huff. The siblings followed his instructions and the growing crowd, further into the estate. Nia admired the artwork as they walked. Tapestries and ceramic vases bearing the ibis. It was undeniable that the Kai¡¯s clearly had a refined taste.

    Another magistrate stopped them in their tracks. ¡°If the two of you are looking for the Governor, he is far too busy to meet with you. I am sure the security is more than adequate for tonight.¡±

    ¡°I-¡± Lero blanked. He flashed the shrewd woman a hesitant smile. ¡°I apologize, but you are mistaken. I report to Legate Clavo of De-Asha. We¡¯ve just arrived. Please, I need to meet with him, it is a matter of the Empire.¡±

    The woman eyed them quickly. She sighed. ¡°Now really is not a good time. But if you insist you are more than welcome to sit.¡± She deposited them around the corner into a small sitting area with perhaps twenty other white robed scholars. Nia slid next to Lero on a narrow bench. She ran her sweaty palms down the length of her riding letters. The whole room¡¯s attention was trained on the double cyprus doors.

    When they finally opened, three overworked magistrates filed out. The sitting room shot to their feet, yelling over each other as the Governor exited. Lero brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. The room turned towards them. ¡°I bear urgent news from Legate Clavo, Governor Wyn-Kai. Please, I must speak to you.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Name yourself.¡± The Governor demanded.

    ¡°I am Lero-Uro, son of Baset. With me is my sister, Nia-Uro. I report to Legate Clavo and march under the Ashenian Falcon in the ninth legion.¡±

    The Governor nodded. ¡°Very well, let them pass.¡±

    The grumbling magistrates parted to let them through.

    For the man who had sentenced Ker to the Ashenians, the elderly man who eased himself behind the desk was unassuming. He was neither short nor tall; frail nor fat. He was balding, with thick black bushy eyebrows and a large hawk-shaped nose. His scholarly white robes left one shoulder bare, displaying a tattooed ibis carrying a scroll in its beak. They remained standing until the Governor made them sit.

    ¡°Please forgive our lack of hospitality today, Lero-Uro. It is not like our House to be so, well, unwelcoming to another of the ten.¡± The Governor¡¯s voice was warm, inviting. His tone didn¡¯t meet his flinty gaze. ¡°Tell me the reason for your visit.¡±

    ¡°I carry word from Legate Clavo.¡±

    Lero began to pass over the letter and Wyn-Kai waved it off. ¡°No, no. Read it aloud so that we are all on the same page.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Lero slit the wax seal with his thumb and cleared his throat. ¡°Governor Wyn-Kai. I write to you with great urgency. It is with great humility that I admit that the city of De-Asha has failed to produce the Conqueror¡¯s tribute for the upcoming triumph. The Conqueror has tasked me with producing the most unusual tribute, I am to recover a star. I firmly believe that the Emperor¡¯s desire is a relic of the Conquering, a weapon of which the Ten kept fiercely hidden inside Anu-Uro-Set during the war. But the excavation of the site has yet to yield the result. The nature of, and power of this star has alluded my men and I.¡±

    Wyn-Kai laced his fingers together and rested his hand in his palms as Lero continued. ¡°Upon news of the legendary legate¡¯s passing, I grow more frantic in my search. The City of De-Asha requests that all of Legate Xur¡¯s personal accounts of the siege, his journals, and any supplemental documents be sent in our aid. I pray to the Stormlord, merciful is our god, that we may recover the star before the Conqueror¡¯s arrival. I have sent an envoy in my stead. With great humility, Legate Titus Crassus Clavo.¡± Lero finished.

    ¡°That oaf should have written for aid years ago if this was the Conqueror¡¯s directive.¡± Wyn-Kai leaned back in his seat. ¡°His procrastination has likely damned himself and your House.¡±

    Nia gulped, taken aback by the Governor¡¯s candor. Lero leaned forward in his chair. ¡°Please Governor, it is not just my House that I care for. It is my entire city. I can only imagine the carnage the Emperor may inflict if we do indeed fail. I have only just learned of these demands weeks ago, and have no idea what a star is. Much less why the Emperor desires a piece of the heavens.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Wyn-Kai said slowly. ¡°And the excavation of Anu-Uro-Set?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been extensive but my sister has explored more of the tunnels than I have.¡± Lero looked over at her expectantly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the site. The tunnels are filled with the dead both recent and ancient.¡± The Governor¡¯s thick eyebrows pitted together at her barb. ¡°But there have been hundreds of workers. All of the treasure has been plundered or catalogued by the legion.¡±

    ¡°So you were his digger.¡± Wyn-Kai concluded. ¡°Am I correct to presume you also were not told what you were seeking?¡± The Governor flashed up and down her body quickly. ¡°By all the gods of the Skytops, if this star does still exist, it could be a world over by now.¡±

    ¡°And the journals?¡± Lero asked urgently.

    Wyn-Kai held up his hand as the door opened. The shrewd-nosed woman from before peaked her head through. ¡°Wyn-Kai, the ships have been spotted. They¡¯ll be in harbor by the hour.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Ola.¡± Wyn-Kai groaned as he stood. ¡°Prepare the palanquins. We shall go to the harbor immediately.¡±

    Lero rose. ¡°Whose arrived?¡±

    ¡°Ah. You¡¯ve missed much in your journey here. It¡¯s likely your legate has just received word. News of the Legate Xur¡¯s assassination has reached the Conqueror himself.¡±

    Life drained out of her brother¡¯s face. ¡°The Conqueror is here?¡± He asked in disbelief. ¡°The triumph isn¡¯t sent to enter Ker for months!¡±

    ¡°No, no. The Conqueror has continued his original route. It seems he has also sent an envoy in his place.¡± The Governor¡¯s lips twisted in a thin smile. ¡°Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex, the crown princess of the Empire, and my granddaughter has been sent to investigate.¡± The Governor looked at them in turn as they gaped like fish. ¡°Come. You should attend my House to the harbor. You are still members of a Ker House, after all. But we should really hurry, I¡¯ve learned it¡¯s best not to keep an Ashiphiex waiting.¡±

    Stunned into silence, Nia and Lero followed the Governor back out into the hallway. The House frantically moved towards the gardens, and they were ushered into a horse-drawn carriage.

    As the horses pulled them through the streets, Lero closed the curtain to the screaming crowd and put his head in his hands. ¡°This is bad. This is so very bad.¡±

    Nia placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You need to breathe.¡±

    ¡°Me breath? You should be the one panicking. The princess is here to investigate the legate¡¯s killers!¡±

    ¡°Yes, but you didn¡¯t have anything to do with that.¡± Nia assured. At her brother¡¯s silence she shook him. ¡°Right? Lero!¡±

    ¡°Of course I had nothing to do with that! I barely get away from Clavo long enough to piss. But Nia we are kerai. Someone always takes the fall. Not to mention this star the Conqueror is after. If the Emperor is after this, this¡ª¡± He waved his hands together in frustration. ¡°The princess will be as well. Just watch, the betrayer will surely tell her of our mission.¡±

    Nia nodded. She had already arrived at the same conclusions. ¡°We could run. Leave tonight. Grab Baset and Cythe and Titus. Go North.¡±

    ¡°And go where?¡± Lero let out a choked laugh. ¡°And don¡¯t say Aker-San. Even if you knew where it was Nia, we would never survive the Dunelands.¡± Lero ran a hand along his cropped hair. ¡°Besides, we are still the House, despite the legion. If we ran, we would be condemning all of De-Asha to their demise. I cannot have the blood of thousands on my hands. Cowardice is not the answer.¡±

    Nia flushed with shame. ¡°Then what do you suggest we do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at a loss.¡± Lero whispered.

    They lulled into silence. Nia only knew one thing for certain. She had to learn if the pathia existed in Ash-Kai, and fast, or they were as good as dead.

    Their horses stopped, and a white robed attendant pulled back the curtains to reveal Ashenian triremes. Nia couldn¡¯t tell if her shaking legs were due to the bumpy ride or her nerves. The crowds behind them screamed, waving purple cloth. Nia overheard as a young mother hiked her daughter up on her hip. ¡°I want to see the princess mommy. Do you think she¡¯s beautiful?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Princess Admrilia is just as beautiful as you, my sweet girl.¡±

    The conversation faded as Nia followed the procession down the rocky hill to the docks. She found her place at Lero¡¯s side as the Kai¡¯s arranged themselves.

    Who she could only assume was Princess Admrilia took a militaristic step off the ship, flanked by two guards. The princess was tall, every muscle in her broad frame chiseled by a Skytops¡¯ blessed sculptor. Nia had never seen a woman so strong, so threatening. Her skin was a couple shades lighter than Nia¡¯s own and her long hair had been braided meticulously down her back with golden beads. She wore Ashwnian armor, her purple helm held at her side as she approached Wyn-Kai. Nia noticed that her irises were obsidian black. Nearly purple. The woman in the crowd had been correct. Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex was beautiful; in all the ways she was utterly terrifying.

 XXVI. The House of the Ibis

    XXV. THE HOUSE OF THE IBIS

    ¡°You bite your lip anymore it¡¯ll fall off.¡±

    Admrilia shot Flavius a dark glare, her teeth releasing from her gum. She threw her momentum into her first step towards the sizable group below. The governor was shorter than she had been anticipating, but undoubtedly her mother¡¯s father. They shared the same complexion, set jaw, and observant brown eyes. He had a large nose and set brow with permanent worry lines etched into his forehead.

    ¡°Governor Kai.¡± Admrilia said when they had reached him. ¡°The triumph thanks you for your service to the empire and for your people¡¯s hospitality.¡± She paused. As a member of the royal family, she should present her hand. But the Governor was her elder, her mother¡¯s father, and she was in his land.

    The Governor kissed her knuckles. Admrilia mentally chided herself as he rose. ¡°The people of Ash-Kai have eagerly awaited your arrival. As have I.¡± Wyn-Kai gestured to a cluster of individuals who shared an uncanny resemblance to her mother. ¡°Princess Admrilia, allow me to formally introduce you to the rest of our house.¡±

    Our. Admrilia soured at the Governor¡¯s deliberate word choice. Her lips tightened as he pointed to a tiny elderly woman who shared her mother¡¯s heart-shaped face and warm smile. ¡°This is my wife, and your grandmother, Ibi-Kai.¡± The woman¡¯s pleasure radiated off of her as she kissed Admrilia¡¯s knuckles. ¡°My brother Hubei-Kai, and your uncles naturally, Jax-Kai and Tho-Kai.¡± He gestured to two shaven men in their mid-forties wearing scholarly robes. ¡°And this is Tho-Kai¡¯s wife, Ola-Kai, and their sons, Sena and Seta.¡±

    Admrilia blinked twice. She felt overwhelmed. Her family was in Aegtrys a world away. Asho was her only living cousin, not these boys looking at her with fear in their eyes. She was simply the byproduct of a political marriage. Her existence simply a condition for the surrender of Ker. Admrilia didn¡¯t share anything with this family from the other side of the world. The House of the Ibis had never seemed like living, breathing, tangible people. Until now.

    The Governor was looking at her expectantly. ¡°What an honor it is to be formally introduced.¡± She said shortly.

    ¡°The honor is all ours, Princess Admrilia.¡± Ibi-Kai bowed from the waist. ¡°We have long dreamed of the day when we could finally meet our granddaughter.¡± A few of the Kai¡¯s nodded stiffly. Admrilia did not know how to respond to that.

    ¡°Governor. I demand to know what these two are doing here.¡± Admrilia turned as Advisor Clavo pointed to two individuals on the edge of the group. A legionnaire and a woman. Admrilia had assumed they were attendants of some kind. But then why would Advisor Clavo recognize them?

    The legionnaire stepped forward. ¡°We are here on behalf of your son, Advisor.¡±

    ¡°Preposterous.¡± Clavo barked.

    Wyn-Kai raised his hand. ¡°Advisor Clavo, I am confident we can all discuss matters of the empire when we are within shade and out of prying ears, hmm?¡±

    ¡°Matter of the empire.¡± Clavo scoffed. ¡°What could that beast possibly have to do with the empire?¡±

    ¡°Name yourselves.¡± Admrilia demanded.

    The legionnaire stepped forward and saluted. ¡°I am Lero-Uro, son of the House of Uro. I report to the legate of the Ninth Legion. With me is my sister, Nia-Uro.¡±

    Admrilia observed Nia-Uro with calculating eyes as she bowed. She clearly was not a legionnaire like her brother beside her. She didn¡¯t have the posture. The discipline. But her arms were tanned and taut with sinewy muscle. She was wearing riding pants underneath her tunic and a long knife was sheathed at her hip. Not a woman kept indoors. There was something unmistakably off about the Uro woman, and not just because of Advisor Clavo¡¯s uncharacteristic outburst. Maybe it was the way she was holding a hand against her chest. Or it could have been those eyes, like pools of melting metal. Admrilia wrenched her gaze away when amber eyes locked with hers. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°We shall discuss these matters later.¡± Admrilia said, inclining her head to the advisor. ¡°Lead the way, Governor. My men tire of this heat.¡± She was confident that Helmsman Ros would finish docking and unloading the ships. No doubt her men were eager to be released into the streets and taverns after the long weeks at sea.

    She slowed to match the Governor¡¯s shuffling gait. He extended a hand to the crowds that had formed around the harbor and spread into the marketplaces. Ker, Ashenian, Thrysian, Pi-Yenjan. They all screamed for her. Asho would love this. Admrilia thought wryly. At the end of the harbor, The Governor escorted her to a set of awaiting palanquins. A burly attendant helped her into the cushioned platform. The Governor grumbled as he was aided into the seat across from hers. They were heaved overhead by a team of twelve men.

    Admrilia rested her hands on the thin armrests, schooling her features into stoic disinterest. Their adulation meant nothing to her. She had spent the early dawn hours in her cabin, carefully cultivating her appearance as she laced up her boots. She was not some long lost relative returning to the homeland. Nor should there have been any mistaking her visit as one of diplomacy. The Conqueror had not sent her here on a mission of peace. Her black eyes roamed the crowds as they were carried. Where among them were the rebels harboring insurrection against the Empire? Where were the Legate¡¯s murderers?

    ¡°It is truly an honor to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Governor.¡± She said, clipped.

    ¡°You know, in private, you don¡¯t have to be so formal.¡± The Governor whispered conspiratorially.

    Admrilia pulled her eyes away from the sloped Ker architecture and regarded the Governor. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of respect.¡± She insisted. Admrilia could not fathom disrespecting the Emperor by anything other than the titles he had earned, and certainly not his birth name.

    The old man leaned forward. ¡°If grandfather is too intimate then call me Wyn-Kai at least. I insist.¡±

    ¡°Grandfather.¡± She rolled the sharp kiyr term across her tongue like a barb.

    ¡°You speak well.¡± Wyn-Kai complimented, switching over to Kiyr. ¡°My daughter has done well.¡±

    ¡°She ensured I was fluent in the language.¡± Admrilia¡¯s hand found the creased letter in her pants and passed it over. ¡°My mother has insisted I hand deliver her letter to you myself.¡±

    The Governor brought the missive to his nostrils and inhaled. ¡°My Raja.¡± He said fondly. ¡°Thank you. My wife and I will certainly cherish this gift.¡± Admrilia inclined her head. ¡°I must admit, I feel as if I have known you through your mother¡¯s letters, but this is the first time my eyes have beheld you.¡±

    His eagerness caught her off guard. She extended the verbal olive branch. ¡°The sentiment is mutual. My mother raised me as Ashenian, for the role of my birthright.¡± Admrilia¡¯s eyes darted back out into the crowd. ¡°She was wise in that, I think.¡± When the Governor did not respond, Admrilia turned back to him. ¡°Tell me, Wyn-Kai.¡± His name caught on her tongue. ¡°What do you know about this rebellion?¡±

    ¡°We can get to the grave matter of your visit in the morning.¡± The governor deflected. ¡°Tonight, I wish to introduce you to your mother¡¯s homeland.¡±

    ¡°Argenti?¡± Admrilia swiveled her head from the window to where Flavius stood in the doorway of her chambers. She had just finally had a moment to herself after the hours of feasting, and she felt a flare of irritation for being interrupted. ¡°The guard has been established.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Her head was already turning back to the window.

    ¡°Is everything alright? You seem to.¡± Her friend paused. ¡°Troubled.¡±

    Paper lanterns lit the streets where crowds gathered in the forums and marketplaces. ¡°They welcome me into their home as if I am one of them.¡±

    Flavius took a cautious step forward. ¡°This is your mother¡¯s homeland. THey have great cause to celebrate.¡±

    Admrilia took a steadying breath. ¡°Some lines cannot be crossed, Flavius.¡±

    ¡°I just thought you¡¯d like it, Argenti.¡±

    Admrilia turned back around. ¡°It¡¯s not up to me.¡± Don¡¯t you see? She wanted to ask him. It never has been.

 XXVI. The White Jarl

    XXVI. THE WHITE JARL

    ¡°You can surely hit him harder than that brother.¡±

    Morgaine stood at the entrance of the training yard, dressed in an elegant stola draped over one shoulder. The copper tinted fabric contrasted with her fiery hair. The pommel of Kohl¡¯s sword collided with his stomach, demanding his attention. Asho glared at his friend. He reached up to unbuckle his helmet as Morgaine entered the yard. Her hands ran along the shelves of swords, spears, and axes that rested on the racks.

    ¡°Those might be a little heavy for you.¡± Asho smiled.

    ¡°It¡¯s no matter." Morgaine paused at the vast collection of bows. ¡°Archery suits me better.¡± She raised a hesitant eyebrow. ¡°Would you care for a round?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d enjoy that. Kohl?¡±

    His friend eyed them as he restocked his equipment. He removed his helmet and shook his sweat damp hair out of his eyes. ¡°No. I¡¯ll leave you to your peace.¡±

    Morgaine¡¯s cheeks inflamed as her brother exited the training yard. It wasn¡¯t lost on Asho that they were now truly alone for the first time since his arrival. Asho took his time examining the longbows. He ran his suddenly clammy hands down his pants. ¡°How was your morning?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Autumn is at our doorstep.¡± Morgaine selected a lighter shortbow. Asho grabbed a longbow and hefted two quivers over his shoulder. He followed Morgaine as she walked over to the targets. ¡°You should join me for a ride sometime.¡± Morgaine offered quietly.

    Asho smiled to himself. ¡°I¡¯d enjoy that.¡±

    ¡°You finally learn to ride?¡± Morgaine turned around, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Well I¡¯m hardly the equestrian you are.¡±

    Morgaine snorted under her breath. Asho set the quivers on the ground. They fell into companionable silence as they took their practice shots. It had been months since Asho had held a bow in his hand, and his first shot went high, clearly missing the target fifty paces away. Morgaine¡¯s shot was slightly better, embedding itself in the target¡¯s flank. Morgaine smiled challengingly. Asho shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m warming up.¡±

    ¡°Sure you are.¡±

    Asho¡¯s next shot flew true, embedding itself in the bullseye. The prince smirked. Had he been with Kohl, or those boot licking Sugian nobles, he would have already been gloating. But of course, Morgaine was a better archer than Ditas or any in his entourage. The prince knew better than to challenge Morgaine. Her next two shots flew straight into central mass. Asho languidly nocked his next arrow instead, admiring Morgaine¡¯s slender form as she drew back her shortbow. She inhaled, her mossy eyes narrowing in concentration. When she exhaled, Asho knew from the resounding thump that the arrow found home.

    Morgaine lowered the bow, her fierce eyes locked on his. ¡°My brother tells me you are to marry a Pi-Yenjan princess. Is that why you¡¯ve been avoiding me?¡± Asho flushed from forehead to neck. Morgaine continued. ¡°Have you met this betrothed of yours?¡± Asho aimed for the furthest target in the field; a hundred and fifty paces away. He calculated the arching shot, picturing a great white stag as he pulled the bowstring to his ear. ¡°Well, have you?¡± Morgaine demanded.

    Asho inhaled, exhaled, released. His shot bounced off a nearby tree. He cursed under his breath. ¡°Yes. I have.¡± Asho slung his bow over his shoulder and marched towards the targets.

    Morgaine¡¯s sandals quickly followed. ¡°Asho! Wait. What is she like?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not you, okay?¡±

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    Were his cheeks burning from excursion or from the embarrassment of his admission? Morgaine ran ahead of him, placing herself between his body and the target. ¡°Asho?¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Asho stared down at her. This close he could see the dark rim of forest green around her irises. The dance of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her sweaty copper hair, coming undone from her braid. His fingers itched to place her curls back behind the shells of her ears. Asho chided himself and looked away. ¡°Your father certainly had no shortage of suitors for your hand.¡±

    ¡°On the Horned God of course I do. I have refused to hear any of it because I thought that we were, well, more.¡± She whispered.

    He looked away. ¡°We were children Morgaine.¡±

    ¡°You are a man now, and I a woman. Are you really going to stand here and tell me that you will allow this? Will you not fight for me? For us? If what we had was true, by all the gods of the Skytops why won¡¯t you¡ª¡±

    Asho¡¯s chest cracked. ¡°Please, Morgaine, not you too. I cannot fight the will of the Conqueror.¡±

    ¡°If you were to become Emperor, your will would move the sky and sea. Not his!¡± Morgaine placed a hand to his chest. Asho¡¯s cheeks inflamed at the heat. ¡°Please, Asho. I cannot wait forever.¡±

    I don¡¯t know if I can promise you forever. Asho fought bitterly. Morgaine¡¯s hand was still against his sternum. So warm, so tender, so tantalizingly close. Asho wondered what it would be like to feel her skin against his again. To brush his lips against hers. All he had to do was lean down. What if this was his only change before that awful day when he was wed off to that fourteenth daughter of the Pi-Yenjan Emperor. What if, after the triumph left Ironore, he never saw Kohl or Morgaine again?

    Your hedonistic desires are noted prince. The Conqueror¡¯s words flooded through his mind like a bucket of cold water.

    Well let them be noted. Asho thought fiercely. He leaned down, cupping Morgaine¡¯s head in his palms, and kissed her.

    It was late when Asho collected his clothes and left Morgaine¡¯s quarters. He snuck past the Ironoaks guards with inflamed cheeks and rushed down the stairwell back down to the rung that housed the guest quarters. Asho scurried through the halls for his rooms and stopped dead at the Conqueror¡¯s voice. ¡°I see your party has arrived from Thrys. Welcome to Ashenia.¡±

    From Thrys? Asho threw himself against the wall. He crouched down, riveted in place. ¡°Thank you, Emperor Ashiphiex. Governor Ironside. We have come to pay tribute for your generous leniency towards our nation.¡± The man¡¯s voice was painfully raw, as if severely dehydrated. Asho gulped and peered around the brazier to get a glimpse of the stranger. His body was covered in a thick collection of white pelts and furs that encased his torso and limbs. A scarf, blood red with intricate ruins was pulled to the bridge of his nose.

    A young attendant hovered at the corner of the White Jarl¡¯s robes. The boy was half the looming figure¡¯s height, with a red caul that ran across his brow in a bowl of thin, dull strips. His skin was nearly translucent; his cheeks pockmarked. The boy noticed him, and he pulled on the White Jarl¡¯s sleeve.

    The hood turned slowly towards him. His eyes were hidden in the shadows of his intimidating hood. Asho had no idea what color they were. If the White Jarl even had eyes at all. Asho¡¯s stomach shot into his mouth.

    The Conqueror cleared his throat. ¡°Come here prince.¡± he barked.

    Asho stood and walked towards the small group. The White Jarl and his strange attendant were not alone. There were perhaps another two dozen guards in the hallway, all dressed in thick pelts and furs from the north. The White Jarl tilted his head and evaluated Asho meticulously. ¡°I take it this is your heir?¡± He rasped.

    ¡°One of them.¡± The Conqueror clipped.

    ¡°I know what this looks like!¡± Asho interjected hurriedly.

    ¡°And I know what this is.¡± Ream Ironside countered with little humor.

    ¡°I see.¡± The White Jarl¡¯s bony hands receded into his robes. ¡°A philander does not bear well for Thrys.¡± The Thrysian ruler turned back to the Conqueror. ¡°Is your heir to join us for our discussion?¡±

    The Emperor¡¯s lips thinned. ¡°Not tonight, I believe the prince has found himself otherwise occupied.¡±

    Asho¡¯s cheeks inflamed.

    The White Jarl inclined his head, and the acolyte hastened to open the door to the Conqueror¡¯s chambers. The Conqueror shot Asho a withering stare when his guests'' backs were turned. Governor Ironside scornfully shook his head. ¡°Go to bed Asho.¡± He ordered. ¡°Your bed.¡±

    Asho flinched as the Centori closed the door behind them. The White Jarl¡¯s guards watched him curiously from their posts along the hallway. Asho straightened his spine and hardened his eyes. Like the Conqueror¡¯s; like the Stormlord¡¯s. He walked with his head held high down the hallway towards his rooms, instinctually knowing the White Jarl¡¯s party¡¯s eyes were following him. His legs screamed at him to flee as his mind raced. Urging him to get away from the Conqueror¡¯s venomous contempt. To run from his continuous blunders. To hide from the ugly, awful wrongness that had  radiated off the White Jarl.

 XXVII. Matters of the Empire

    XXVII. MATTERS OF THE EMPIRE

    Admrilia glowered at the two story sandstone walls that barricaded Legate Xur¡¯s private villa. She frowned at the mature palm trees over the walls, wondering how the legate¡¯s murderers could have climbed over the slanted walls. Governor Kai groaned as he was eased down from the palanquin. Admrilia waited for his feet to touch the cobblestone streets before approaching the gates of the villa. They were unlocked.

    The grounds were modest. Well kept considering the desert''s extreme heat. Palms and tall shrubs lined the entire perimeter of the yard. Admrilia frowned. ¡°And he kept no family, no company?¡± She asked as they entered the main house.

    ¡°No princess.¡± Wyn-Kai struggled to keep up with her long stride. ¡°The legate never married or had children of his own. His life revolved around the legion. After his retirement, he became increasingly reclusive.¡±

    Admrilia turned to the Governor. ¡°Why is that?¡±

    ¡°The legate was nearly two decades my senior. I think at a certain point, a man craves the ability to pass with dignity.¡±

    ¡°Are we certain he didn¡¯t die of natural causes?¡± Advisor Khispen asked.

    ¡°His slit throat suggested otherwise.¡± Wyn-Kai said flatly. ¡°Come. I should show you the study. This is where his servants found him.¡±

    ¡°Where were his guards?¡± Admrilia asked as they walked up a narrow stairwell to the second floor landing.

    ¡°The ones he had kept watch on the estate at all hours of the night. We can certainly track them down in the city for you to talk to if you wish.¡± Wyn-Kai pushed open a set of double cedar doors. Admrilia hid her couch at the dusty air.

    Xur¡¯s war spills were proudly displayed against the far walls. A vast collection from a long and storied career. Spears, swords, animal hides and kerai armor straddled a bold gold banner. The fabric was torn and singed displaying the motif of a ram. The last physical remnant of the destroyed House.

    Xur¡¯s collection was considerably impressive, but the rest of the room was sparsely furnished. The desk was barren of papers, with only a stylus and ink pot waiting on the left hand side of the chair. Admrilia walked forward, noticing the stain on the rich cyprus. She pointed to it and the Governor confirmed her suspicions. ¡°Blood, yes. His throat was cut as he slept over his desk.¡±

    ¡°Was it common for him to fall asleep in his study?¡± Khispen asked.

    ¡°According to his household it had become increasingly common.¡±

    ¡°And his household?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve been cleared. A few self-exiled after the incident. But you may speak to those who remain at the estate later if you wish.¡± Wyn-Kai said.

    Admrilia nodded, filing the information around the room for later. She walked around the desk. ¡°Entry?¡± She clipped.

    ¡°The door was locked from what I¡¯ve been told. It was his preference when he was in his study to be left alone.¡±

    Admrilia eyed the tall windows above the bookcases. She dragged the chair over to the bookcase and stepped onto it to gain a better view of the ledge. ¡°A child couldn¡¯t fit through here.¡± She scoffed. She looked down at her advisors. ¡°His household very easily could have betrayed him.¡±

    ¡°Nothing''s for certain.¡± Wyn-Kai disagreed.

    ¡°What the governor is neglecting to tell you princess Admrilia, is that no man could have fit through the window.¡± Advisor Clavo¡¯s ocean blue eyes were filled with accusation. ¡°But a talented kerai, perhaps one who could aiya into a bird, could easily have accomplished the task.¡±

    Admrilia fought back her scoff as Wyn-Kai inclined his head. ¡°That is our working theory as well. We have found evidence to substantiate that claim.¡± Wyn-Kai walked to the desk and produced a piece of papyrus from his robes. He hunched over, his brushstrokes quick and efficient. Admrilia dropped down from the chair and walked over. The Governor stepped aside to allow them to peer at the kiyr glyph.

    ¡°The assassin left this on his body. A calling card of sorts.¡±

    Admrilia¡¯s understanding of the complicated kiyr language was elementary at best but it appeared to be the visage of a woman sitting within a box. Or perhaps a roofline of sorts. Advisor Clavo hissed through his teeth. ¡°What is it Advisor?¡± Admrilia asked. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°The Ten Houses of Ker.¡± Clavo¡¯s thick hand pointed down at the glyph as if it personally offended him.

    ¡°The Ten?¡± Advisor Khispen asked.

    ¡°Yes. The symbol originated from the Ballad of the Ten.¡± Wyn-Kai cleared his throat. ¡°House fought House through decades of strife, and their sons and daughters died. Over their bodies their father¡¯s cried¡ª¡±

    ¡°And from their children¡¯s love the Houses unite.¡± Clavo spat. He scowled. ¡°This is the symbol of Ker unification. This is the banner they rode under during the Ker Conquest, when all ten Houses joined forces against the Conqueror.¡±

    ¡°And now it¡¯s the symbol of their rebellion.¡± Admrilia finished. She glanced up, Advisor Khispen and Clavo¡¯s expressions grave. They mirrored her own.

    ¡°The legate¡¯s last correspondence was with Legate Fillium over in De-Anu. But to be honest, Xur had no shortage of enemies.¡± Wyn-Kai said. ¡°He was a destroyer of a House. That has not been forgotten. His hatred for the kerai was arguably greater than the Conquerors.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a sympathizer.¡± Advisor Clavo said quietly.

    ¡°I¡¯m simply providing the group context. The search for Legate Xur¡¯s murderers will be extensive.¡±

    ¡°But more broadly, the whole territory could be teetering on the brink of rebellion. If we find the Legate¡¯s killers, it could lead us to these insurrectionists.¡± The crushing weight of the Conqueror¡¯s directive settled over her shoulders. Legate Xur¡¯s killers could be as far as Pi-Yenja by now, or the rebellion''s leader could be as close to those in this very room. Her eyes slid to Wyn-Kai the Wise. The Betrayer. Did her grandfather have it in him to rebel against the empire? After the Conqueror granted his House the mercy of life? Was Legate Xur¡¯s murder some sort of elaborate scheme to get her here?

    Admrilia bit her tongue, relishing briefly in the sharp sting. She could not accurse the Governor, her own family, of treason without considerable evidence. But she could hardly trust them either.

    ¡°There is more.¡± Wyn-Kai said. Alexandros and Flavius quickly shared disbelieving glances near the doorway. ¡°Advisor Clavo, you asked me why the Uros are here. When they arrived, they claimed they knew nothing of your impending visit. They are here on behalf of your son. He wrote to me.¡±

    Advisor Clavo snatched the outstretched letter. His eyebrows shoot higher and higher with each line of text. The advisor handed the letter over to Admrilia without a word. She immediately recoiled at the hideous penmanship. She silently read:

    Governor Wyn-Kai,

    I write to you with great urgency. It is with great humility that I admit that the city of De-Asha has failed to produce the Conqueror¡¯s tribute for the upcoming triumph. The Conqueror has tasked me with recovering the most unusual prize. I am to present a star.

    Admrilia paused, then reread the line. A star? How preposterous. Surely the Conqueror did not mean a physical star like the myths. Admrilia did not believe in destiny, or the stars as Asho did. No, she firmly believed that the wyrd myth was used by the Conqueror, and his forefathers before him, to justify the subjugation and continued conquest of the continent. End of story.

    Unless, there is already one wyrdstone. Her mind rushed to reason. Why couldn¡¯t there be others? Admrilia continued reading.

    I firmly believe the Emperor desires a relic of the Conquering, a weapon of which the Ten kept fiercely hidden inside Anu-Uro-Set during the war. But the excavation of the site has yet to yield results. The nature of, and power of this star has alluded my men and I.

    Admrilia¡¯s mind spun like a top. Why was the Conqueror demanding such an extensive search? And if the wyrdstone did exist, and if she found it? Admrilia could nearly bask in the warm praise upon her skin as she presented this other star to the Conuqueror. A wyrdstone restored. Her duty to the Empire would be fulfilled. It surely would be enough to force the Conqueror to name her his heir. Admrilia could become Empress. Admrilia scanned the rest of the lines.

    Upon learning of the legendary legate¡¯s passing, I grow more frantic in my search. The city of De-Asha requests that all of Legate Xur¡¯s personal accounts of the siege, as well as any supplemental documents be sent in our aid. I pray to the Stormlord, merciful is our god, that we may recover the star before the Conqueror¡¯s arrival. I have sent an envoy in my stead. With great humility, Legate Titus Crassus Clavo.

    Admrilia wordlessly passed the letter to Advisor Khispen. She walked over to the Legate¡¯s bookcases. ¡°Are the journals here?¡± She asked Wyn-Kai directly.

    He eyed her knowingly. ¡°No. His accounts are kept in the Houses private repository along with all other records of the Conquering.¡±

    ¡°Then we should go there next.¡± Admrilia nodded to herself. ¡°We need to discover what connection Legate Xur had to all of this.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Wyn-Kai bowed his head. ¡°And do you wish for the Uro¡¯s to join us?¡±

    Advisor Clavo vigorously shook his head. ¡°Absolutely not. You cannot seriously trust a matter this dire to those kerai dogs.¡± Clavo grumbled.

    ¡°Bring them.¡± Admrilia turned and eyed her advisor. ¡°Your son clearly had entrusted them with a task of this magnitude. So either your son finds them useful to the empire or he is as dumb as a mule.¡± She fit the advisor with a piercing glare. ¡°The blade stills close by either way.¡±

 XXVIII. The Journals of the Legendary Legate Xur

    THE JOURNALS OF THE LEGENDARY LEGATE XUR

    What the hell is wrong with you?

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± Nia told Ajaxi as she entered the stall with him and Khayli. Her nerves were on edge after a few days of being ignored by the Governor. She resigned herself to the monotonous task of currying the loose dirt from his flank. Nia grabbed the brush, running it against Ajaxi¡¯s coat with long, sweeping strokes. Ajaxi¡¯s brown eyes closed and he nickered softly. She had just begun brushing his dark name when Lero barged into the stables.

    ¡°There you are!¡± Khayli whined and Lero stopped briefly. ¡°And hello to you too sweet girl.¡± Her brother crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you. The princess has called for us.¡±

    Nia¡¯s hands tightened around the brush¡¯s handle. She looked down at her riding linens, wondering if she had time to change. What exactly did one wear to a summonings from the crown princess of the Ashenian Empire?

    The princess¡¯s envoy was riding back from the city, and Nia had time to change. She waited beside Lero under the shaded portico of the grounds. She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Nia had opted to wear one of the two dresses she had packed, a hand-me-down from Cythe. It was one of her sister¡¯s stately gowns, as turquoise blue as the waters of the kerx and meant to attenuate her bust and hips. Nia felt as if she was swimming in the gown, aware of her angularity and corners that fell in all the wrong places.

    Lero¡¯s forehead was slick with perspiration as he stood at full attention in his armor. Nia¡¯s hand kept flailing at her waist, wanting the comforting weight of the Peddler¡¯s blade. But she had left the knife behind in their rooms. No need to provoke the Ashenian princess who could have them drawn and quartered alive.

    ¡°That must be them. Ready?¡±

    Nia nodded, bunching the fabric of the dress up around her hips so she wouldn¡¯t trip. Lero marched over to the gate as the palaquins were ushered through. Advisor Clavo sneered as he spotted them, and Nia¡¯s chest constricted tightly in warning.

    The danger of Clavo¡¯s father paled in comparison to the shenian princess. She stepped out of the palanquin with the aid of her tall guard. Her face was drawn tight. Today, just as yesterday, she was fully donned in armor; her raven hair braided down her spine in a tight braid. Lero went first to kiss her knuckles, then Wyn-Kai¡¯s.

    Nia bowed her head. The princess¡¯ calloused knuckles were cool to the touch. Her emptiness pits of eyes fell on her briefly, curiously. Nia inhaled sharply as she stood. She was trapped in the eyes of a vengeful god.

    That¡¯s because she is you idiot! Look away! Look away!

    Nia¡¯s attention shot to the safety of the princess¡¯ leather sandals. The Governor regarded their small party. ¡°I have informed her highness of your urgent mission.¡± Lero nodded stiffly beside her. ¡°Her highness has requested to see the Legate¡¯s journals, and that you both accompany us. Princess Admrilia, would you like to proceed to the library now?¡±

    The Princess swiveled her god-like eyes on the governor. ¡°Yes. lead the way.¡±

    The foyer of the Great Library of Ash-Kai was just as ostentatious as its exterior. Lotus leaf columns with intricate panels of kiyr text rose to support the terra-cotta roof. Massive wind sails swung back and forth from the rafters, circulating the mid-afternoon breeze. Tall cyprus shelves twice Nia¡¯s height extended past the foyer in orderly rows¡ª formulating the walls of an impressive labyrinth.

    Lero¡¯s hand fell on her back, urging her forward. Nia trailed behind the rest of the princess¡¯s party, openly gawking. The Governor led them deeper into the shelves. The princess marched beside him, flanked by her aggressive guards. The men were young, perhaps the princess¡¯ age. One was tall and lithe, the other shorter and stockier. He had the square head and shoulders of an ox. The princess¡¯ guards circled around her in practiced harmony, as if connected by an invisible string. Nia pressed her knuckles to her sternum when she became aware of what the aker was doing.

    Hunt.

    Nia tampered her jaw shut at the demand. She thanked the Lady of the Dunes that they had the foresight to ayia on the eve of their arrival to Ash-Kai. But with the princess¡¯ presence, would they even be able to? Or would Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex be able to sense the monster beneath her skin? The thought sent a fresh wave of anxiety through Nia. Along with the implicit knowledge that the aker wouldn¡¯t wait forever. Nia would have days, a week at most, before the aker would force her release.

    Wyn-Kai led them up an ornate staircase to the second story landing. Nia paused to peer over the railing that overlooked the first floor. She gasped. A large three dimensional map of the entire continent was prominently laid out. Nia had never seen a complete map of the Empire and her eyes drunk in the ridges of the Skytops, the coastline of the Semperimar. Down to the bottom right  hand corner for the nation of Pi-Yenja across the sea. Then to the top left for the separate tributaries of Thrys and Bruttanium.

    Around the map, a half-dozen scholars sat cross legged at a series of long tables. Their hands expertly duplicating the original maps at their side onto fresh papyrus. ¡°Our cartography section rivals any on the continent.¡± Wyn-Kai boasted to the princess up ahead. ¡°The Great Library of Ash-Kai serves as the only repository for the territory.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Naturally, not all of it is publicly available. Our scholars undertake a rigorous apprenticeship and the Great Library is guarded day and night. And where we are headed, the House''s private library includes much more than what¡¯s made public, including the histories of Ker and the war.¡±

    Nia narrowed her eyes. There was more? How many of the betrayers'' maps had been looted from De-Asha¡¯s navigators? How many still had the soot stained on their edges?

    Wyn-Kai produced a key from his roves at the end of the landing. The six legionnaires guarding the double doors stepped aside as their party entered the room beyond. A labyrinth of shelves contained the Kai¡¯s private collection. The large room was dimly illuminated by the high windows and the Governor motioned to the lanterns resting near the door. The princesses'' guards quickly lit them, following the governor into the maze of shelving. Nia¡¯s eyes hungrily scanned the honeycommed shelves, wondering where the House¡¯s private maps were held.

    After a few minutes, the Governor stopped at a thickly packed shelf. His hands danced through the accounts before pausing. ¡°Here they are.¡± The Governor grabbed four thin leather bound journals. ¡°I recommend we find some seating.¡± Wordlessly, the group followed Wyn-Kai to the sitting area near a window not blocked by shelving. Nia sank down next to Lero on a short bench. Advisor Clavo leaned against a bookcase opposite of them, his scowl already affixed.

    The Governor laid the Journals down on a short desk. Princess Admrilia eased into the seat next to him. ¡°My suggestion is that we start with this one, your highness.¡± He held up a journal. ¡°This is the Legate¡¯s account from the final months of the war.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I will read the entries aloud so that we can all hear them. If anyone has anything to add, or a thought that could contribute to the mission of fulfilling the Conqueror¡¯s demands. Speak up.¡± Not hearing any objections, Wyn-Kai the Betrayer cracked the cover and began reading.

    The crown prince has cleaved the sky and begot the wrath of the Stormlord. The House of the Doorway has fallen ¡ª glory be to the Stormlord and his son. The Houses have fled west. We shall follow the Ten to all corners of the earth.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Vipsanius

    The 2nd month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

    We breached the legendary gates of the House. In the great hall I slew the Baron and as the last Ram lay dying by my sword the crown prince decreed that from this day forth until my last I shall be called Scipio Sulla Xur, the destroyer of the House of Ram.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 4th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

    We have taken Xur. The city stands as our legion¡¯s stronghold against the harsh Dunelands. Their army cannot survive without the First House¡¯s aid. Their sacred city is trapped on the edge of the world. We have intercepted their supplies; slaughtered their navigators; decimated their priests; severed their necks from their savage Goddess. The Ten¡¯s lifeblood runs dry. Victory is imminent.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 5th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

    The scouts have reported that the Ten have retreated to Anu-Uro-Set for their final stand. Their Goddess cannot save them from the wrath of the Stormlord and his wyrdling.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 5th month in the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

    The wings of certain victory are circling Anu-Uro-Set like a vulture. Summer has scorched into autumn. The heat from the Dunelands burns my mens heads and soles. The Ten lay in wait inside the necropolis, eager to trick our men into their maw. Their women, their children will not make it through years end. Their men know they cannot win a war of attrition against the Ashenian Empire. Surely, as the Semperimar is the salt and sea of my veins, those dogs are gnawing on their own bones.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 8th month of the 10th year of  the Ker Conquest

    ¡°Were you?¡± The princess¡¯s chilling question pierced the silence.

    Wyn-Kai tensed beside her, his eyes suddenly distant. ¡°The situation was dire.¡± He said shortly. The Governor turned the page, his voice temporarily quivering as he read the next entry:

    The Stormlord has blessed us today. Their priest squealed like a pig before the crown prince. We have uncovered the secret of the Ten¡¯s survival. Tunnels, deep in the eastern rock that the rebels have been using to smuggle in supplies. We shall soon remove this blemish from the earth.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 8th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest

    Their priest led my men into the hills surrounding Anu-Uro-Set. We ride for the tunnels the Ten have dug through the bedrock. Their priest walks with the shuffling gait of a man already dead. The spear a preferable relief to what¡¯s to come. The moon is full as we lie in weight. The die has been cast. By dusk tomorrow this decade¡¯s long war shall be finished.

    ¡ª Legate Scipio Sulla Xur

    The 9th month of the 10th year of the Ker Conquest.

    Nia¡¯s eyes stung, envisioning the screams of the woman and children as they realized they were trapped. She exhaled, trying  to drown the flood of desperation that hit her. The Governor looked up from the journal solemnly. ¡°There¡¯s a few more entries.¡± Nia squinted her eyes shut. She didn¡¯t want to hear any more of the first person account. Lero squeezed her hand, his handsome face impassible as the Governor continued:

    The priests have broken the line. They flee for the First House. My men and I shall follow.

    Wyn-Kai paused. ¡°That¡¯s it for this entry.¡±

    ¡°Why would he possibly be following the priests?¡± The  Ashenian advisor asked.

    ¡°It has to be connected to this star.¡± Clavo grunted, pushing off from the bookshelf. ¡°The priests could have escaped with it.¡±

    ¡°That may be your working theory advisor.¡± Admrilia Ashiphiex folded her hands together. A muscle in her jaw twitched. ¡°But we still do not have any idea what this star is. Or do we, Wyn-Kai?¡±

    Wyn-Kai sighed and laid his hands flat. ¡°Admittedly, I only knew of the star''s existence. When the knowledge of Atesh¡¯s abilities became widespread, the First House kept the star¡¯s existence a prized secret. Only their priests could use it, or see it.¡±

    ¡°Well isn¡¯t that convenient.¡± Clavo snapped.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you the truth. It was tied to the Lady of the Dunes, but the priest''s spiritual practices were not widely known by the rest of the Houses, even at the time.¡±

    ¡°Could they control the environment?¡± princess Admrilia asked.

    ¡°Unsure.¡± Wyn-Kai bowed his head. ¡°The Goddess¡¯s wyrd has not been present in our bloodline for centuries. Our House always concerned itself with more secular matters.¡±

    Advisor Clavo paced. ¡°Surely the Conqueror has verified its existence. Or else he would not have sent my son this directive. Think Governor.¡± He held up his first. ¡°Did the priests carry a gemstone, about the size of theri first? A comet on earth?¡±

    Wyn-Kai¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°No. Nothing like your Conqueror¡¯s wyrdstone.¡± His lips soured. ¡°The priests never carried much of anything really. Just their personal effects.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    Wyn-Kai¡¯s mouth thinned. ¡°Their maps, their laps, along with their khosheps, spears and everything else.¡± Wyn-Kai pointed down at the page. ¡°There¡¯s one more entry.¡±

    ¡°Read it.¡± The princess demanded.

    I returned empty handed.

    Wyn-Kai chuckled.

    ¡°What¡¯s so humorous, Governor?¡± Clavo grunted.

    Wyn-Kai looked up. ¡°Well, I must admit, I¡¯ve known the Legate for decades but I never knew the man to have a sense of humor.¡± He glanced at the room¡¯s blank expressions. ¡°Empty handed? It¡¯s a double entendre. The Legate had lost his hand during the war.¡±

    The wriry advisor groaned but Nia felt as if her windpipe had a boot against it. ¡°He lost his hand?¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Yes. what of it?¡± Lero asked beside her.

    Nia was going to be sick.

    ¡°When did the Legate lose his hand, Governor?¡± Princess Ashiphiex asked.

    The Governor¡¯s eyebrows pitched upwards. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, it was so many years ago. It must have been after the siege and surrender, because he certainly would have mentioned it earlier.¡±

    Nia exhaled through her nostrils, quashing the waves of flight instincts that screamed at her to run out of the Great Library and straight for the Dunes. The princess¡¯s head turned to her slowly, like an eagle honing in on its prey. Her obsidian eyes were trained on her. Calculating. Prying. As if she could serrate each and every one of Nia¡¯s thoughts until she could find what she was looking for. But thanks to the Skytops, Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex could not read her mind. Could not see the crushed hand beneath her boot; because if the princess could, Nia would have already been dead.

 XXIX. The Pines

    THE PINES

    Saltwater invaded Asho Ashen Ashiphiex¡¯s nostrils as Hellion''s hooves crested the final ridge. Anticipation and wariness had warred within him since they had left the Ironoak at dawn. At the bottom was the clearing of charred pine trees overlooking a rocky beach, and then, the channel.

    Kohl broke the silence. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    The prince tightened his grip on Hellion¡¯s reins. ¡°I need to see Kohl.¡± He hadn¡¯t been strong enough before. Now, Asho wished he had. If head made this journey three years earlier, how would his life be different? Would he be more self-disciplined? More respectable? More of the heir that the COnqueror and the empire expected him to be?

    Their horses carefully navigate the treacherous steep slope. The hill bore an ugly burn scar¡ª corpses of blackened trees uprooted and splintered over moss covered boulders. Hellion startled and whined. Asho glanced down to see what his hoof had caught on.

    A rusty piece of metal - the dome of a legionnaire¡¯s helm half submerged in the thick mud. Sorrow welled in his gut. His eyes scanned the rest of the hill. There were no bones, no shrouds left to burn. All that remained of the vanished legion was metal and charred pine ash.

    Asho dismounted at the clearing. Kohl followed. It felt too profane to be in the quiet battlefield. His feet slid through thick mud as he stepped across a decade of separation to the shore line. His heart too burdensome in his chest. Saltwater overpowered his senses as he stepped onto the black sand beach.

    His boots carried him over to the lost legion¡¯s banner. The prince knelt, removing his helmet. His hands ran along the padded leather of its cavern. The Ashenian falcon¡¯s bronze wings had turned green in the years by the sea as it stood virgil over the channel. Asho lifted his ocean blue eyes across the fog. If he squinted he could make out the black cliffs of Bruttanium.

    So this was where his father had stood down the invasion of barbarians. Awe and fear pierced Asho¡¯s heart.

    Kohl placed a hand on Asho¡¯s shoulder as he knelt. His friend''s hazel eyes were sorrowful. Kohl unfolded a cloth with two slices of bread and cured ham. Asho ate his tasteless portion in three bites. He leaned back on his haunches, watching the tide ebb and flood over the jagged rocks.

    ¡°I never knew him Kohl.¡± Asho whispered. It was true. Even before the Bruttanium invasion, the Conqueror had always sent his second youngest son on some campaign or another. Ashen had been gone for months, sometimes years at a time. Asho lowered his head in shame. Some days, he could barely picture his father¡¯s blurry face.

    ¡°Surely the Conqueror has told you stories.¡±

    Asho shook his head. ¡°He doesn¡¯t discuss him.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s too painful.¡± Kohl offered.

    The prince was about to speak, to mention the Conqueror was hardly human in the way he and Kohl were, and thought better of it. Instead he numbly replied. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Well, I can tell you this. I owe my homeland and my family¡¯s life to Ashen¡¯s courage.¡± Kohl said, returning to his good natured optimism. ¡°Our father¡¯s were great friends. Did you know that early in the war Ashen swam to the other end of the channel in the middle of the night, returning with a barbarian''s shoes to ust prove he could. And when you were born, his first and only son, my father says Ashen talked of you endlessly.¡±

    Asho choked up. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you to say.¡± At the moment he didn¡¯t feel as if there was much to speak of. The Conqueror thought he was a dynastic disappointment. And he¡¯s right. Asho thought bitterly. He quickly wiped his stinging eyes. ¡°They never recovered his body, Kohl.¡±

    ¡°I, I know. My father believes it was swept up by the channel.¡±

    ¡°But if they never found it, he never received his rites. How?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the Stormlord made an exception. All of them.¡± Kohl ran a hand along the rusting legionnaire banner. ¡°They were heroes. They died a heroic death. The skytops would have smiled down upon them.¡±

    Asho stared across the foggy channel, trying to picture the tall tan legs and broad shoulders of Ashen as he led the charge into the surf. Did he know he was about to sacrifice himself on the edge of the Empire? Had he thought of him? His mother?

    A new surge of resentment towards his uncle swelled. It should have been Hortus who died. Not Ashen. It should have been Admrilia, not him, who grew up without a father to guide them. He stood abruptly. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Kohl looked startled. ¡°You don¡¯t want to stay longer?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Staying among the rusting metal and salty air would only make Asho dig up the past. The prince ran a finger along the falcon¡¯s crest, committing the view to memory. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten what I¡¯ve needed.¡±

    Asho paused when he caught sight of the cloaked figure huddled over near the crickbed. Putting a finger to his lips, he waved Kohl behind a nearby tree. Kohl cocked an eyebrow. Asho shook his head, pointing to the figure as he lowered his hood, revealing a caul of matted auburn hair. It was the boy that had hovered at the White Jarl¡¯s side. Asho ducked low against Hellion¡¯s flank as the acolyte¡¯s head whipped around; scanning the forest with his green eyes. The acolyte slowly turned back around.

    His heart caught in his throat Asho dismounted Hellion, handing the reins over to Kohl. His friend''s eyes were full of warning. Asho waved him off, tiptoeing around the trees so he could catch a profile view of the boy. His hands were resting on the thick black fur on one of the Conqueror¡¯s hunting hounds. Asho¡¯s eyebrows rose into his curly hair. Maybe the boy had been tasked with exercising the animal?

    Except, that didn¡¯t explain why the acolyte had tied a rope around the hound¡¯s muzzle. Or why his knee was in its stomach, pinning it in place. His thin bony hands fumbled around the crick bed, weighing rocks in his palm. He rained down the stone with all of his might onto the dog¡¯s back leg.

    The hound wailed in pain. Unbothered, the acolyte grabbed the limb and twisted as if prying off a chicken leg. The acolyte began whispering fiercely under his breath. Asho darted forward from his hiding place. ¡°Unhand that hound¡ª¡±

    A blade was at his neck in an instance. His body being thrust into the dirt. Asho raised his hands in the air. A hooded figure had their knee pressed against his chest. Their hood had fallen back, revealing short brown hair, a pallid complexion, and silver eyes.

    ¡°Unhand the prince at once!¡± Kohl demanded, dissolving from the trees. His bow was nocked, aimed directly at his attacker''s head. ¡°That is the heir to the Ashenian Empire!¡±

    The man lowered the blade and stepped back. ¡°Your prince tramps around these woods like a common thief.¡± The northerner said through a thick accent.

    Asho stood and dusted off his tunic. He raised head imperiously. ¡°That boy over there is the thief. That hound is the private property of the Conqueror.¡±

    ¡°The hound was gifted to the White Jarl.¡± The man explained, and Asho quickly recalled that the stranger before him was one of the White Jarl¡¯s personal guards. A member of the wyrguild. The man whistled and other guards materialized out of the clearing. They were dressed in thick furs and dark brown cloaks. Their faces were as interchangeable as their outfits. Unnervingly unassuming.  A tall and slender one walked towards the clearing, where the acolyte was still ducked down in the clearing. Another figure, tall and lumbering with the dark skin of a Southerner moved towards them.

    ¡°That acolyte is training to be a healer.¡± The imposing bald figure said through a thick accent.

    ¡°By breaking an animal¡¯s leg?¡± Asho demanded.

    ¡°Better that, then the leg of a man.¡±

    Asho raised an eyebrow in surprise. He turned to where the child was hiding within the cloak of his guards. The Conqueror¡¯s hound bounded over. Asho knelt, examining the hound as he nuzzled into his side. He ran a gloved hand along the restored muscle and tissue. He rotated the back leg fragilly in his hands as the hound panted. The limb was limber in his palms. Asho knew that such an impossible feat could only be accomplished by the use of the wyrd.

    He looked up at the burly southerner. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I am Gabriyl Duskbringer. The head of the White Jarl¡¯s wyrguild.¡±

    Asho nodded. ¡°And who is the boy?¡±

    Gabriyl Dustbringer¡¯s lips curled. ¡°He is nameless. A nullius. As are all acolytes in the Rose Maiden¡¯s service.¡±

    Asho stood at attention in front of the Conqueror¡¯s desk. He had yet to change, his whole body yearning to wash the grief from the day off of his skin. The Emperor continued talking to Advisor Quercus. Neither looked over, and Asho fought the heat coating his cheeks. The Conqueror can sense your weakness. He chided himself. You have to stop being weak.

    Asho eased himself down into the stool beside Quercus. The elderly advisor glanced over, before continuing. ¡°As you can see, your majesty, the lumber we will obtain¡­¡±

    ¡°I just returned to find the White Jarls acolyte torturing your hound.¡± Asho interrupted.

    Quercus flashed him an irritated look. The Conqueror frowned. ¡°Is this matter emergent, prince?¡±

    ¡°I would say so. More than this inventory count. No disrespect, advisor.¡± Asho nodded his head to Quercus, who seemed to have taken plenty of affront to his interruption. ¡°Kohl Ironside and I returned to find the White Jarl¡¯s wyrguild protecting an acolyte as he tortured your hound. The child shattered its leg.¡±

    ¡°I fail to see why you thought it necessary to interrupt us on the matter of animal cruelty.¡± Advisor Quercus said thinly. ¡°The dogs are now property of the White Jarl. He can do with them as he wishes.¡±

    Asho made himself meet the Conqueror¡¯s gaze. ¡°The hound walks. The acolyte healed him.¡±

    The Conqueror leaned back in his seat. ¡°So the boy was successful.¡± He said, nodding to himself.

    ¡°You knew of this?¡± Asho was floored.

    ¡°It was a matter discussed with the White Jarl, yes. Unfortunately you had predisposed yourself for the evening.¡± The Conqueror laced his fingers together. ¡°I take it that you¡¯ve seen the Pines?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± The Conqueror grunted, and it was perhaps the softest Asho had ever heard him speak.

 XXX. Sais-Eit the Heartreader

    XXX. SAIS-EIT THE HEARTREADER

    After the welcome physical exertion of loading another trireme full of tribute bound for Aegtrys; Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex had to finally admit to herself that she was no closer to uncovering the Ten. Her window to find answers was narrowing with each passing day. The Pontus had already set sail days ago for Di-Fi¡¯s port down the coastline and up north, the Triumph would be preparing their march south through the Dunelands.

    If Alexandros and Flavius sensed her dangerously foul mood, they had enough wits to not remark on it as Admrilia led them up the harbor. Her clothes were covered in a thick layer of sweat, and she was already aching for a swim to wash off the oppressive heat of the desert. As they walked, trade ships from Pi-Yenja and Sugia were already unloading the day¡¯s load of pottery, grain, and cattle. The constant berthing and sailaways of Ash-Kai¡¯s port only sullied Admrilia¡¯s mood further. She was no closer to solving Legate Xur¡¯s murder, and at this rate, likely never would. The prospect of returning to the Conqueror with only failure to offer¡­

    Admrilia banished the thought. She was the Argenti, the prodigal daughter of the Ashenian Empire, no rebel would be free from her vengeance once she knew where to point her spear. Currently, her spear bade her west towards De-Asha and Anu-Uro-Set. If Admrilia could find the star the Conqueror desperately sought, the throne would be hers. But the risk was equally as perilous as the reward. If she failed¡­

    Admrilia bit the inside of her cheek. The Argenti didn¡¯t fail.

    Yet, Asho had months she didn¡¯t to earn the favor of the Conqueror. Months she had lost due to the failing mission to find Xur¡¯s murderers. If Asho was chosen by the Conqueror, could she, would she dispute the choice? Besides, Asho had declared her his rival in Kinos, there was no going back for them, regardless of the Conqueror¡¯s choice.

    Admrilia had been too much of a prized pupil to know the history of civil war was likely. If civil war broke out, Ironore and Kinos would back Asho, as would Aegtrys ¡ª the senators and elite backing the son of the man who had saved the empire.

    Which left her with Ker. Her mother¡¯s homeland, ravaged by war and genocide. Much as Admrilia was loath to admit it to a living soul, she was developing a begrudging fondness for her mother¡¯s family. Her uncles were informed on all matters of history, culture, and politics. Her younger cousins polite and appropriately fearful. Ibi-Kai attended to her every whim; and Wyn-Kai had a powerful, far reaching, intellect. Admrilia knew in her heart that Wyn-Kai the betrayer would back her bid for the Ashenian throne, but would the rest of the Houses follow?

    They¡¯d be just as likely to stab you in the back, Admrilia. Just get the gods¡¯ damned star and you won¡¯t have to worry about it.

    Decision made, Admrilia resolved to inform her council and Wyn-Kai that they would push onward to De-Asha. Certainly Advisor Clavo would agree with his son¡¯s life hanging in the balance, and Khispen was too subservient to really object.

    Mood improved, Admrilia guided her neptori towards the street stalls that crowded the shoreline. She made a middle-aged vendor¡¯s life by ordering some beef skewers. Alexandros¡¯ brown eyes were filled with a silent plea and Admrilia quickly doubled her order. The merchant refused her payment, and they quickly carried their food over to the shade.

    Admrilia¡¯s teeth tore into the tender beef, her taste buds appreciating the thick tangy sauce and hot pepper. She polished off the skewer and grunted her appreciation. ¡°Go get another three, no wait, make it five more.¡±

    ¡°You eat like a man.¡± Flavius grumbled as he rose.

    Alexandros belched and wiped his mouth. ¡°No, she doesn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You wager yourself a competition?¡± Admrilia asked haughtily.

    ¡°Only competitions I can win, Argenti.¡± Alexandros said with a glint in his eye.

    Admrilia was about to respond when she noticed the storefront across the street. The glyph was faint on the shop¡¯s door frame, but from her angle it almost appealed to be the half profile of the Lady of the Dunes. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Alexandros, the loyal guard he was, got up and followed her paces behind. Admrilia pulled back the beaded curtain into the dim shop. The shop was musky, reeking of wet earth and opium. A muscular older woman with her hair braided tall atop her skull narrowed golden eyes. ¡°Welcome in.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°What are you selling here auntie?¡± Admrilia asked, switching to kiyr.

    The shopkeeper ran her hands together from behind the tall bench. ¡°Maps, close and near to the heart.¡±

    A mapmaker? How¡­ odd. Admrilia tilted her head to the side, doing her best to appear non threatening. ¡°How interesting, may I?¡±

    ¡°Come, come.¡± The shopkeeper waved her forward. Admrilia walked over to the bench and stiffened as the woman grabbed her wrist. She was unused to people touching her, as most would never dare. ¡°I am Sais-Eit.¡± The woman said as she unfurled her clenched palm. ¡°The Goddess has blessed me with the gift as my mother and her mother before her.¡± Sais-Eit ran a dirty index finger along the crease of Admrilia¡¯s palm to her thumb. ¡°This line here ends abruptly. It tells me that you had a passionate, short lived first love, doomed from the start.¡± Admrilia¡¯s mask slammed into place as the woman¡¯s nail traced along the seam to her index finger. ¡°And this line here, ah, I see it now. You shall have another, fiery love. It will cleave you in two and meld you back together anew.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Admrilia wrenched her hand away. Her cheeks felt hot as she began backing out of the shop.

    ¡°What? Do you not want to learn of your future lover?¡±

    ¡°Stormlord below, no.¡±

    Admrilia bolted from the shop as Sais-Eit called out. ¡°Thank you for your visit, Princess Admrilia.¡±

    Her cheeks flamed. Alexandros kicked off the wall where he had been waiting. ¡°Why do you look as if you just saw the Maiden herself?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I thought she was a mapmaker.¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡± Flavius asked. He offered her a beef skewer and Admrilia waved it away. ¡°Was she?¡±

    ¡°Of heart maps, Flavius.¡±

    His eyebrows bounced. ¡°Wait, what? Did she?¡±

    Could her face possibly burn hotter? ¡°I will not discuss this with either of you.¡±

    Alexandros elbowed Flavius, and the pair exchanged a knowing look, communicating in that silent way of theirs. Admrilia tampered down the flare of loneliness that hit her when they did so, walking up the hill towards the Kai¡¯s estate. The further away she could be from Sias-Eit, the better.

    Two days later, Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex had completely nested in the Governor¡¯s private library. The collection of tables and chairs that her council had taken up residence had been converted into a war room of maps, missives, and papyrus strewn across all surfaces. With her decision made, they needed all the knowledge they could possibly cultivate in the hunt for the star. As Admrilia had suspected, Advisor Clavo had been quick to bend to her new demands to push for De-Asha.

    ¡°G.V.F.¡± Admrilia held up the papyrus that Hubei-Kai, Wyn-Kai¡¯s brother, had passed her. ¡°Who is this?¡±

    ¡°Legate Fillium.¡± Hubei-Kai explained. ¡°He recently purchased a map, and the guidance of our House¡¯s scholars, to guide his party from De-Anu to De-Asha.¡±

    Admrilia had learned that House Kai made a significant portion of their wealth selling access to Ker. They sold to merchants, to the military, and even the Triumph for the ability to navigate the hazardous Dunelands. Admrilia set down the receipt. Legate Fillium had paid 1000 gold pieces for the map. ¡°I fail to see what is so suspicious about the transaction.¡±

    Hubei-Kai nodded. ¡°As did I, until I asked a clerk of mine to pull the receipts. Legate Fillum recently purchased maps to De-Jax, and De -Urs.¡±

    ¡°He has no business going north.¡± Advisor Khispen piped up from a nearby table.

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Admrilia glanced down at the gigantic map she had been studying. A copy of the master that had been sent North for the anticipation of the Conqueror¡¯s arrival. The map sprawled the entire Territory of Ker. She noted how the Kerxa branched southwest towards their destination. The river would not be deep enough for the first neptor¡¯s triremes, forcing their party to take barges instead. Admrilia did not envy Khispen who had the unfortunate logistical nightmare of transporting their neptori and supplies. Despite his best efforts, the trip was going to be long and miserable for her men.

    Admrilia pointed at the loser corner of the map. ¡°De-Uro?¡±

    ¡°This is a pre-Conquering map, princess.¡± Hubei-Kai explained. ¡°By the Conqueror¡¯s edict, the city''s name was changed after the war. Just as De-Kai became Ash-Kai?¡±

    ¡°And De-Anu?¡±

    ¡°The dead maintain their name.¡± Hubei-Kai said. ¡°It will be a natural place for your party to stop on the way to De-Asha.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We will pay the Legate a visit.¡± Admrilia said grimly. ¡°Where are the Uro¡¯s?¡± She asked. She glanced up from her seat as the door opened, and stood.

 XXXI. The Tomb Raider, Nia-Uro

    <ol>

    <li> THE TOMB RAIDER, NIA-URO </li>

    </ol>

    When the scholar Ola-Kai arrived bearing Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex¡¯s summons, Nia-Uro was certain she was about to perish. Surely, the Ashenian princess had learned of her deception, had suspected that the blade she now kept hidden in the bottom of her bags was the very star that the Conqueror coveted. The aker demanded her to flee with each labored stride through the Great Library. Ola-Kai nodded towards the Ashenian neptori stationed outside the doors of the Kai¡¯s private collection and they pulled the cedar doors apart. The scholar deposited Nia and her brother at a cluster of tables littered with papyrus.

    The princess scooted back her chair and stood to her full, commanding height. She was uncharacteristically dressed in plain clothes, just trousers and a royal purple tunic.The princess¡¯s braid was coming undone around her ears and framed her severe, tired eyes. Nia¡¯s aker froze in her chest, caught between fleeing and lunging forward as Admrilia regarded her. ¡°My spear points me to De-Asha, towards the glory of recovering the star for the Emperor. The two of you, along with the rest of your House, will assist the throne in this aim. Our party shall depart for De-Asha in two days'' time.¡±

    It was Lero who was able to speak first. ¡°How best shall we assist you, your highness?¡±

    Princess Admrilia swiveled her obsidian eyes onto Nia. ¡°The empire requires your sister, the tomb raider Nia-Uro.¡±

    The tomb raider Nia-Uro. All too familiar shame hit her. Nia exhaled slowly. Too slowly. Her mouth felt as if it was filled with ash. Nia finally managed to speak. ¡°It would be an honor.¡±

    Princess Admrilia swatted the platitude away. ¡°Detail your search efforts so far.¡± She barked.

    I¡¯m not some soldier. Nia thought. She forced her amber eyes to the tile to appear subservient. ¡°Well, your highness, considering I did not know what I was searching for until the legate sent us to recover the journals, I¡¯m unsure¡ª¡± Nia abruptly stopped. If she continued with ¡®I¡¯m unsure as to the benefit to you¡¯ then Admrilia Ashiphiex wouldn¡¯t need her. Maybe I could save us all the trouble and go retrieve the dagger right now. Nia nearly laughed at the absurdity of the thought. She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m unsure because my knowledge may be too broad.¡±

    ¡°Broad how?¡± Advisor Clavo barked.

    Nia straightened her spine. She looked up from the tile and made herself face the advisor. If her only option was to prove useful to the empire, then she couldn¡¯t keep groveling at their feet. She needed to be valuable. ¡°Legate Clavo had my search efforts begin about four years ago. At first, the legate sent me through the necropolis and the surrounding ridges. I was ordered to recover anything of value so De-Asha can pay the Conqueror¡¯s triumph demands. I kept an eye out for jewelry, headdresses, necklaces, rings, gold¡­¡±

    ¡°What about weapons?¡± The princess asked impatiently.

    ¡°Yes. Those too. Every item I recovered is carefully categorized in the storerooms at the estate.¡±

    ¡°We were already planning on searching for those when we arrived at De-Asha.¡± Advisor Clavo said in a dismissive tone.

    ¡°I see. Your highness, I must apologize, but I am ill informed on what, if any item in the storerooms would have a connection to the stars you week.¡±

    ¡°I shou-I will be able to tell an item''s connection to the wyrd.¡± The princess bit her lip, and Nia sensed a kernel of doubt from the princess.

    Good. Nia thought. Maybe she doesn¡¯t realize anything after all.

    ¡°Nia, would it be helpful to show them where you have searched so far?¡±

    ¡°Wha? Oh of course, that is an excellent idea. Do you have a map I could use?¡±

    Wyn-Kai groaned as he stood. ¡°Allow me to show you the cartography section, Nia-Uro.¡± Admrilia Ashiphiex moved around the table, making it clear she was to follow. The princess was tailed by her brooding guards. The four of them followed Wyn-Kai¡¯s shuffling gait into the stacks. Despite the surreal circumstances, Nia¡¯s blood hummed with eager anticipation as they rounded the corner and entered an alcove made up of circular shelving units. The documents inside the alcove shelves were clearly centuries old, made up of thick hides and fraying papyrus. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°The Ibis¡¯ personal collection.¡± Wyn-Kai said with no shortage of pride. ¡°Please navigator, help yourself.¡± Wyn-Kai turned towards the princess. ¡°You know, in the old days, it was the navigators of the House of the Doorway who led people across the Dunelands.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Admrilia said shortly. ¡°And what changed?¡±

    ¡°The Conquering.¡± Nia walked forward, drawn by the shelves. She was unable to decipher the sheni etched above the cubicles, and not for the first time, Nia cursed her illiteracy. She pulled out a scroll above her head, and then another, noting how the maps detailed locations to the north of Ash-Kai. Reaching one from a cubicle by her stomach, Nia noticed the coastline of Ker. Nia took a step back. ¡°This is a compass, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Very good, Uro.¡± Wyn-Kai said. ¡°Ash-Kai will be the centermost point where you are standing, which means that De-Asha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Will be to my left.¡± Nia said, already sidestepping. She reached into a cubicle, finding exactly what she was looking for. Nia began opening papyrus maps and setting them on the floor by her feet.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Princess Admrilia demanded.

    ¡°Grabbing fragments.¡± Nia explained as she reached above her head into a cobweb covered cubby. ¡°If you want a master, then you¡¯ll need a complete picture of the search effort¡­¡± Nia paused, suddenly every nerve afire as her fingertips grasped onto an ancient hide. Nia was thankful that she was facing the shelf to hide the prickling tears welling up in her sockets as she unrolled the ancient papyrus. There, in the top northernmost corner in kiyr script. Aker-San.

    She was holding a copy of the pathia.

    I could finally escape. We can be free. Nia discreetly wiped her eyes. She rolled the pathia and grabbed the pile at her feet. She turned around, hoping her naked longing had been wiped from her face.

    Admrilia Ashiphiex¡¯s eyes narrowed in suspicion but she was blessedly quiet as they returned to the tables. Nia was provided a desk, and to her satisfaction a blank papyrus, stylus, and cartography set was provided. Nia admired the tools for a moment, noting how pristine and fine tipped they were over her basic charcoal. The princess and her advisors sat cross legged across from her as Nia made the first couple strokes on the blank sheet.

    In truth, Nia didn''t need the reference maps at her side, but she unrolled them anyway. Starting southward, Nia began drawing De-Asha and the rectangular walls of its gates. She measured the distance to the necropolis, and the ridges of the skytops of which it was situated. She carefully detailed the watchtowers and tombs dotting the hills. Nia unrolled the next map and added Xur and its surrounding area. Then, her heart galloping in her chest, Nia unfueled the oldest map on the bench. The fragment went further north than Nia would have known the world could have expanded. Further where the Dunelands and Skytops met towards the edge of the known world. Towards the First House. Aker-San. Nia took her time carefully copying the long-vacated villages, and sunken wells. The mountain passes and the potential hazards. Before the prodigal heir of the Ashenian Empire, Nia openly plotted her escape.

    ¡°Now this is an interesting fragment.¡± Wyn-Kai said, breaking her concentration. He looked up from the funerary account he had been reading. ¡°The lady wove the stars into her hair, a mane of heavenly fire.¡±

    ¡°A mane?¡± The wriry advisor, who Nia had learned was Khispen, asked. ¡°What could a mane possibly be?¡±

    ¡°The goddess Sachmis is portrayed as a half-lioness.¡± Wyn-Kai said.

    Nia stretched her aching back. The princess¡¯ hawk-like gaze did not leave her hand as she dipped a new stylus in red ink and cleared her throat. ¡°As I said, the Legate Clavo had me searching the Dunelands for years. We began with the necropolis, and the ridges around there. In addition, the necropolis has been subject to over fifty years of treasure seekers, not to mention the countless legionnaires and workers who could have pocketed treasure to pawn themselves.¡± Nia quickly made a slash through the necropolis and the other locations Clavo had sent her too. ¡°The furthest North I¡¯ve been is Xur, and while it is impossible for one person to search through it all, the tomb raiders and skin traders surely would have cleared it out by now.¡± Nia slashed through Xur. ¡°I¡¯ve never been further north. But if what the Legate Xur said was correct in his journals, then the priests would have fled for the First House.¡±

    ¡°Aker-San.¡± Wyn-Kai had left his chair and was now peering over her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s unknown if they survived the war after all, as no one has heard from the House for decades. The COnqueror¡¯s efforts to cut them off from the rest of the kingdom during his campaign were extensive.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. But, where else could the priests have fled?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think the priests ever made it back.¡± Admrilia said, her eyes boring into the map.

    ¡°No.¡± Nia said flatly. ¡°It would have been impossible for them to survive the journey. If Xur had already been extinguished, then the trip was futile. I believe the working theory is that they never did make it to Aker-San. Which gives you a couple options, princess. Search for resting points between the necropolis and Xur, risk pushing past Xur to further your search, which you do not have time for before the Conqueror¡¯s arrival or¡ª¡± Nia met Admrilia¡¯s godlike eyes. ¡°Admit defeat now. If the star did exist, it is long gone.¡±

 XXXII. The Acolyte

    XXXII. THE ACOLYTE

    Asho¡¯s thoughts were consumed by the nameless acolyte that hovered at the White Jarl¡¯s side. At meals, the White Jarl accompanied the Conqueror, his food growing cold before him. Not once did the Thrysian leader of the boy eat or drink. Asho wondered what kind of Goddess would forbid her subjects to nourish themselves. But perhaps, to be close to the Rose Maiden, her acolytes needed to be as close to the veil as possible. Like a shade still breathing. Why else would the sickly boy be constantly barefoot and only wear the most threadworn tunic?

    Mostly though, Asho wanted to know how the acolyte was able to tap into the wyrd of the Skytops? Why was it that a peasant was able to do what should have been his by birthright? By legacy? He was the direct descendant of the Gods¡ª and yet as every day passed with Thrysne¡¯s gift illuding him, Asho felt his confidence crack a little more.

    Kohl and Morgaine helped eagerly, offering themselves for Asho to pierce their skin and find their fears. But Asho found no terror as he stared into his best friend¡¯s gaze. He grew warm and distracted whenever he met Morgaine¡¯s pine green eyes. As always, Asho would eventually grow self-loathing as the siblings grew bored while the Conqueror looked on.

    Asho worried that the Conqueror had tired of him. Since he reported the incident with the hunting hounds, the Conqueror had chosen not to call upon him. As letters began arriving from Ker, Asho feared the worst. Admrilia was succeeding, and he was not.

    Asho folded within himself. Tonight, even the stars eluded him, hidden behind thick autumn clouds. At the first raindrops, the prince was forced to retreat to the warmth of the Ironoak. The centori was waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder to the rooftop. ¡°The Conqueror requires you.¡± The soldier greeted.

    Asho followed the grizzled older man through the Governor¡¯s halls, his heart hammering. The Centori deposited Asho outside of the Conqueror¡¯s temporary quarters. Asho sobered at the crowd waiting for him inside the Conqueror¡¯s office. The Conqueror, the White Jarl, his second in command, and the red haired acolyte. ¡°Good Evening, Conqueror.¡± Asho closed the door, ignoring their guests.

    ¡°Prince.¡± The Conqueror clipped. ¡°I¡¯ve summoned you to provide aid to our neighbors. It seems that the White Jarl¡¯s guard had broken their arm falling from their horse this afternoon.¡± Asho finally noticed the person sitting down, cradling a broken wrist. Asho narrowed his eyes. IT was the same guard who had shoved him to the forest floor and held a knife to his throat when he had stumbled upon the guards.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know how to sprint a wrist.¡± Asho said, his apprehension already building.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary, Prince Asho.¡± The White Jarl rasped. ¡°My acolyte is the most excellent healer. Let¡¯s begin, shall we?¡±

    Begin? Begin what?

    The guard yelped out in pain as the acolyte grabbed their broken arm. Asho¡¯s own eyebrows rose when the acolyte wordlessly beckoned him forward. The boy¡¯s hand was cold; his small, thin fingers barely able to encircle Asho¡¯s wrist. Asho bit into his lip as the boy¡¯s dirty nails dug into his veins. His blood sprung from the punctured skin.

    The acolyte bowed his head. He hummed low in his throat, beginning a chantlike incantation. ¡°O Rose Maiden, guide my hand as I form the vein between life and death.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Asho grew weak in the knees. He was powerless to stop what was happening as the acolyte tapped into the wyrd. His consciousness thrashed as an unfamiliar presence invaded the salt and sea of his veins and fed.

    Images flashed beneath his eyelids.

    Boys, teeth-clattering in stiff rows deep beneath the earth. A blizzard stills upon the surface of the mountain and a wolf¡¯s howl pierces the clearing. A towering figure looming overhead with roves as white as snow. Atop the ice a five sided die spins like a top. It spins, and spins, and spins¡­

    He was elsewhere, but nearby. He climbs deep into the earth, but he is not alone. The catacombs are filled with the flesh and bone of the dead. All is dark as he spends the night under the inescapable eyes of the Rose Maiden¡­

    Asho stumbled into the arms of the Conqueror. The Emperor steadied him as his knees threatened to buckle. He met his eyes, begging for answers. The Conqueror¡¯s attention was on the guard. They sat on the floor, their sweat slicked head thrown back against the Conqueror¡¯s desk. The White Jarl¡¯s second in command was examining their arm, gingerly bending the healed limb. Silver eyes met Asho¡¯s gaze and scowled.

    Mark. Asho thought immediately. Their name is Mark. He knew it in his bones. His next thought was far more unsettling. What horrible memories had the guard been privy to? Mark wrenched their gaze away. Certainly, the wyrd that had been flowing between them now bound them together, for better or worse.

    ¡°As you can see,¡± The White Jarl said in his bone chilling rasp. ¡°My acolyte has successfully siphoned the wyrd between living subjects, demonstrating his great promise and ability. He is the pride of the priesthood.¡±

    ¡°He certainly is.¡± The Conqueror said thinly. ¡°As you can see, the Prince has shown his impressive vigor. He has hardly broken a sweat. The future of the Ashiphiex line is ten times blessed by the Stormlord.¡±

    The White Jarl dipped his head in acknowledgement. ¡°Indeed. We thank you for the demonstration.¡±

    ¡°As we do you.¡±

    The White Jarl excused his party. When they were finally alone in the study, Asho sank to the ground. The whole experience had made him feel dirty, as if he was as expendable as a pawn. He pressed his head between his knees as indignation made his body shake.

    Drink prince.¡± The COnqueror demanded, placing a pitcher at his feet. ¡°You must regain your strength.¡±

    ¡°Why did you force me to do that?¡± Asho croaked. He weakly brought the pitcher to his lips. The cool liquid was a relief to his dry throat.

    ¡°The Thrysians wished to learn about us. Their diplomatic party has been spying on us the entire time, attempting to learn of our empire''s weaknesses. It was only fair we returned the favor.¡± The Conqueror walked behind his desk and sat. ¡°Drink.¡± He ordered gently. ¡°And tell me what you learned.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see much. Just snippets of memories. The boy mostly.¡±

    The Asho sat in contemplative silence as Asho recounted the memories he had gleamed. ¡°I see. And what is it that they fear?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what they fear.¡± He said frustratedly. ¡°That¡¯s not what I saw. The acolyte wants to please the White Jarl. He wants it more than anything, more than life itself. The guard is a hunter, they crave freedom.¡±

    The Conqueror leaned forward in his desk, excitement lighting his features. ¡°Prince.¡± He said quickly. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°I just can¡¯t shake this odd premonition. In the myths, the hunter kills the stag and presents it to the maiden.¡± The Conqueror¡¯s eyebrows knit together, but he didn¡¯t interrupt as Asho continued. ¡°The hunter presents the stag to the maiden.¡± Asho whispered under his breath. ¡°The one with the silver eyes. The guard. They¡¯re the hunter. And the boy, the boy is connected to the Rose Maiden.¡±

    ¡°Then who''s the stag prince?¡± The Conqueror asked quietly.

    Asho looked up and met the god-like eyes of the Conqueror. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? You are.¡±

 XXXIII. In the Jaws of the Kerxa

    XXXIII. IN THE JAWS OF THE KERXA

    The Knowledge of Swift Winds¡¯ sails swayed gently in the summer breeze as their barges floated down the Kerxa. Admrilia inhaled, her body one with the bundles of tightly packed reeds beneath her feet. The day was simply blissful, the easy breeze a welcome relief from the fierce temperatures of the Dunelands. The Argenti¡¯s eyes traced the aquamarine water as it swirled and bent towards the massive tombs on the distant horizon. Admrilia exhaled, wishing she could savor this moment like honey down her throat.

    From her seat under the shaded canopy, The Knowledge, did not seem quite as crowded, although it certainly was. Her neptori, advisors, the Kai¡¯s and the Uro siblings occupied the modest barge. Behind them, vessels under the command of centori Tygris bore the rest of Admrilia¡¯s neptori and supplies. At the front of The Knowledge Governor Wyn-Kai¡¯s head was propped up on his palm as his sons sat cross legged. A boardgame laid between them. From the looks of it, her uncles were losing.

    The Uro siblings looked ill. Clearly, from the way their feet stumbled every time The Knowledge shifted to match the current, it was their first time on a boat. The soldier, Lero, was dressed in his legionnaire armor while Nia-Uro was dressed modestly in a light linen dress. Her hair had been braided out of the way of her amber eyes. Nia¡¯s head was ducked in close to her brother and she was whispering urgently.

    ¡°You can check later.¡± Lero¡¯s voice carried up the breeze.

    ¡°Check on what?¡± Admrilia asked.

    The siblings turned, their faces draining of color. Admrilia watched in amusement as Nia-Uro¡¯s amber eyes immediately darted to her sandals. She was so timid, that one.

    ¡°My horse, your majesty. I don¡¯t like the idea of being separated from him.¡± The woman spoke.

    ¡°Oh?¡± In truth, Admrilia shared no love for the temperamental beasts. She hated that horses were hellbent on refusing her will. She waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Rest assured, my neptori are taking good care of your steed¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ajaxi.¡± Nia-Uro interrupted.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Admrilia¡¯s mouth thinned at the interruption. ¡°Very well, I suppose when we stop for the evening you can check on him.¡±

    Nia nodded, seeming visibly relieved. They lapsed into uncomfortable silence and Admrilia searched for an appropriate bridge to further conversation. She frowned, and conversation had always been one of Asho¡¯s strengths. The Argenti¡¯s eyes darted up as advisor Clavo approached. One moment, Nia-Uro was standing at the edge of the barge and the next, she was gone.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Lero screamed. ¡°She can¡¯t swim!¡±

    ¡°Alex!¡± Admrilia ordered. Her neptori was already there, diving into the river.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Admrilia seethed as she stood. Clavo held up his hands in subjugation. Admrilia peered over the barge, expecting Alexandros to already be heaving the small woman overhead. Precious moments passed and a knot formed in her stomach as Alexandros¡¯ head broke the surface.

    ¡°Argenti! I cannot find her.¡±

    ¡°If the Stormlord is so gracious he will have drowned the mutt quickly.¡± Clavo said.

    Stormlord¡¯s Tits. Admrilia dove into the river. The water rushed to greet her as she swam down to the riverbed. She knew that off to her side, Alexandros would be doing the same. Admrilia¡¯s arms dug through the thick silt, mud clouds blocking her vision, for an arm, a leg. Nothing. Admrilia kicked down the current further where the riverbed gave way to thick reeds. Her hands fumbled through silt and fish and vegetation. And then, smooth skin. A leg.

    Admrilia¡¯s hands raked over Nia-Uro¡¯s torso and arms, finding her armpits. Her muscles ached as she stood, kicking off for the surface. Yet, the riverbed held them down as if the Stormlord himself demanded it.

    Release her! Admrilia fought. She attempted to kick off again, Nia¡¯s body firmly lodged in the sediment. The river squeezed her windpipe.  Black dots appeared in her vision. Release her! Admrilia willed.

    The kerxa gave. Admrilia kicked for the surface of the shallow river. The Knowledge of Swift Winds erupted into cheers when they broke the surface. Alexandros paddled towards her, taking Nia¡¯s heavy load off her. Admrilia¡¯s muscles ached in relief. She took Flavius¡¯ extended arm as he heaved her onboard. Flavius then helped Alexandros.

    Flavius rolled Nia over. Lero broke from where Jax-Kai and Tho-Kai were holding him back. He collapsed onto his knees and shook his sister. ¡°Wake up! Wake up!¡± Lero screamed. ¡°Skytops Nia, wake up!¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Move.¡± Admrilia ordered. She pushed Lero roughly aside. Admrilia dropped to her knees and brought her weight down against Nia¡¯s cold sternum. Clavo¡¯s livid eyes bore into her as Admrilia tilted Nia¡¯s chin back. She brought her ear close, listening for breath. Admrilia¡¯s lips met Nia¡¯s pale blue ones. She breathed life into her chest. Again. A third time. A fourth. A fifth. Admrilia feared that  her rib cage would crack against the weight of her thrusts. Admrilia brought her lips to Nia¡¯s again. Nia¡¯s eyes flung open¡ª irises shimmering gold. She gasped and lunged forward, arms grasping Admrilia¡¯s throat. Admrilia fell onto her back as Nia¡¯s fingernails tore into her windpipe.

    The woman was wrenched off of her. Lero held his sister in his arms. ¡°Nia, stop. You are not in danger.¡± Nia glanced up at her brother, blinking comprehensively ¡ª before doubling over.

    ¡°Oh gross.¡± Alexandros muttered as Nia puked riverwater all over his shoes.

    ¡°Congratulations princess, the kerai bitch tried to kill you for saving her.¡± Clavo seethed.

    ¡°Leave the poor woman alone, Clavo.¡± Khispen said sternly.

    ¡°A woman? No, you are mistaken.¡± Clavo pointed straight at Nia-Uro. ¡°That is a beast in flesh.¡±

    Later, after Admrilia had changed at the barge had calmed itself, Nia-Uro approached her. The other woman had changed out of the soiled dress and into a too-large tunic that was clearly her brothers. Her hair still lay damp against her bare shoulders. ¡°I need to thank you.¡± Admrilia sighed and patted the reeds behind her. Nia approached, easing herself down. Nia refused to meet her gaze, instead her amber eyes were trained on the sun disk as it dipped beneath the dunes. ¡°I almost died today. I never thought I could have died like that.¡±

    Admrilia had foreseen her death the day she took her oath to the Stormlord. The Argenti would drown under the power of the Semperimar as a thousand watery hands clamped around her throat. ¡°How then?¡±

    Nia¡¯s eyes flicked to hers for a moment and then away. ¡°Buried alive in the Dunelands, I suppose. Alone on the earth as I have to acknowledge that there is no way out.¡±

    Admrilia grunted. ¡°That sounds awful.¡±

    The woman shrugged. ¡°Anything would be a mercy compared to drowning again.¡± She shivered, drawing her legs to her chest.

    Admrilia ground her jaw tightly. She hated just how vulnerable the other woman looked at the moment. How her hands itched to comfort her. She balled her fists in her lap. ¡°Why does Advisor Clavo hate you so much?¡±

    ¡°Oh? I, I¡¯m not sure I can tell you that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the heir to the Empire. I¡¯m ordering you too.¡±

    Nia-Uro¡¯s smile was humorless. She glanced back behind them before switching to kiyr. ¡°Very well, Princess Admrilia. If we were in Aegtrys, his son would have been castrated for his crimes.¡±

    A torrent of anger made Admrilia¡¯s ears ring. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°No. Not me. My sister.¡±

    Admrilia¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°If anyone ever did that to my sister, I would kill them.

    ¡°We both received mercy that day.¡± There was venom underneath Nia-Uro¡¯s soft words. Bitter hatred bubbling to the surface. A scar

    ¡°So there is a beast under that flesh after all.¡± Admrilia regarded the taut-always alert form of the woman beside her. ¡°Isn¡¯t there. It seems I¡¯ve underestimated you.¡±

    ¡°To underestimate me would be a mistake, princess.¡± Nia rose lithely.

    ¡°On the contrary, Nia-Uro.¡± Admrilia whispered as she walked away. ¡°I feel as if I have finally begun to understand you.¡± Admrilia scowled as Advisor Clavo approached.

    ¡°Quite an intriguing conversation you were having, princess.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Admrilia frowned as Clavo sat down beside her. ¡°She was just thanking me for saving her life today.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes, such a very unfortunate accident.¡±

    Admrilia scowled. ¡°Cut the shit, Advisor. We both know you pushed her. Your hatred of the Uro¡¯s is no secret.¡±

    Clavo scowled. ¡°It was not your place to interfere princess.¡±

    ¡°In an assassination?¡±

    ¡°An accident, merely.¡± Clavo held up his arms. ¡°You took on great personal risk jumping in after her. You could have been hurt.¡±

    Admrilia huffed. ¡°You act as if I am not descended from the Stormlord himself.¡±

    ¡°But to put the life of some mutt before yourself.¡± Clavo tisked.

    ¡°Well I could have hardly stood by and let the woman drown.¡±

    ¡°She should already be dead by the laws of the Empire.¡± Clavo shot Nia-Uro a murderous glare.

    ¡°I know our laws. Yet, I know of our mission. We must recover the star. The wrath of the Emperor outweighs whatever grievance you may have.¡±

    ¡°You continue to defend their existence! How could I expect any less from a half-dog such as yourself. Stormlord below, for all I know you may be a kerai-lover yourself.¡±

    ¡°That is a serious accusation, advisor.¡± Admrilia said cooly.

    Clavo¡¯s lips wormed into a gross imitation of a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the ways you look at her. The rumors. That the princess is not like the rest. She¡¯s much to masculine. Too interested in the art of war to hear of suitors or bearing children. She is a vira in the flesh, lusting after a kerai whore.¡±

    Admrilia threw back her head and laughed viciously. ¡°May you openly weep at your son¡¯s grave, Crassus.¡±

 XXXIV. The Shrine of the Horned God

    XXXIV. THE SHRINE OF THE HORNED GOD

    The farewell feast for the Thrysian delegation was a subdued affair. Even with the Governor''s terse well wishes and his wife¡¯s valiant efforts to carry vapid conversation; it was clear the Ironside¡¯s wanted their northern guests gone. The next dawn, Asho watched on as the White Jarl and his company mounted their skeletal horses. The delegation had melted into the forest; disappearing from sight as quickly as a chill down the spine.

    ¡°Come with me.¡± Morgaine said that evening. ¡°I want to show you something.¡±

    Asho¡¯s boots crunched through the first fallen leaves of autumn as he followed Morgaine. She circumnavigated the Governor¡¯s great hall, leading him to the back of the majestic Ironoak. Asho¡¯s calves burnt by the time Morgaine held up a hand for him to stop. Morgaine stepped forward  to the rust-bronzed bark of the great tree and disappeared. Asho had to squeeze in sideways behind her through the well hidden gap.

    ¡°Is this a tunnel of some kind?¡± Asho asked. Morgaine just hummed in acknowledgement. There was a soft hiss as Morgaine lit a torch. Asho followed Morgaine further into the Ironoak. ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°To the Shrine of the Horned God.¡±

    ¡°Wait seriously? You¡¯ve never mentioned there was a shrine?¡± Asho couldn¡¯t help but keep the accusation out of his voice.

    ¡°You never asked.¡± Morgaine said. ¡°Besides, father would have killed me if he knew I was showing you this. But you do, given¡ª¡±

    ¡°Given I¡¯m totally hopeless?¡± Asho asked.

    Morgaine let out a frustrated breath. ¡°No, given that you¡¯re leaving soon. Now hold on for a minute, the entrance should be around this corner.¡±

    They fumbled around in the dark tunnel a few more seconds as Morgaine found the entrance to the shrine. Morgaine cursed beside him, and a second later a brazier roared to life. Asho whooped softly as his eyes adjusted to the hollow cavern. ¡°Touch the bark, Asho.¡± Morgaine commanded as she lit the next brazier. ¡°Even I can feel Apki¡¯s presence here. It¡¯s incredible.¡±

    ¡°Touched by the Skytops themselves.¡± Asho breathed. He pressed his palm against the rough bark.

    ¡°Our legends say that Apki dropped a piece of the stars here when he was hunting one day. The wyrd infused with the soil thus why the forest trees turned to Iron. But in truth, this is where Apki¡¯s presence is felt most prominently in all of Ironore.¡±

    ¡°This truly is the nexus of your god.¡± Asho mused. He walked closer to the wooden shrine. The Tricksters God was carved from the rich oak of the surrounding tree all muscle and sinew. But something was missing from the shrine. Asho snapped his fingers as it hit him. ¡°Where are his horns?¡± He asked. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Lost to time I¡¯m afraid.¡± Morgaine edged closer to him. She lay her head on his shoulder, glancing up at the shrine.

    ¡°That¡¯s a shame. His presence is so strong here.¡± Asho had always felt the Horned God''s presence in these mountains. He sighed. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s my issue. Maybe I¡¯ve been too far from the Semperimar.¡±

    ¡°If that was the case, the Conqueror could never do what he can. Broaden your mind Asho.¡± Morgaine said gently. ¡°The Ironoak does not just exist in this clearing. It is the forests and the hills. Just as the Semperimar has its tributaries. The Stormlord is always with you in the salt and sea of your very veins.¡±

    Asho cast out for the voice that sang of the current and the undercurrent. Asho sighed as he was unanswered. ¡°The Stormlord is my god, not the trickster, and had you wanted me to see this earlier, you would have Morgaine. Why did you wait before I was to leave?¡±

    Morgaine¡¯s hand traveled down his forearm and found his fingers. She squeezed gently. ¡°For a millennium, our home has constantly been under attack. The Bruttaniums, the Thrysians, the Ashenians have all realized the Ironoaks tie to Apki. They have sensed our land is rich with resources and the wyrd and they have tried to take it. And yet, my people remained. Yet, I fear that enemies are again closing in upon our home.¡±

    ¡°The northerners.¡±

    Morgaine nodded.

    ¡°I will protect you.¡± Asho said immediately.

    Morgaine¡¯s smile was brief and fleeting. ¡°I¡¯ve always loved how you view my home as your own, Asho. But in order to help us defend it, you need to be able to fight them off.¡± Morgaine glanced up to face him. Asho realized then that he was facing a side of Morgaine he had never encountered before. An iron will. A future queen. ¡°You need to become Emperor.¡±

    ¡°And I know that you will Asho. I believe in you more than I have ever believed in anyone. You have the Stormlord, and him beside you¡ª¡± Asho glanced up at the shrine of the Horned God. The Trickster God. The Betrayer. He was so contemplative that he nearly missed Morgaine¡¯s question. ¡°Do you remember that time you tried to kill my brother and I on one of your wretched boats?¡±

    Asho remembered that languid summer fondly before his birthday. Before he was promised off to the Pi-Yenjan princess.  Kohl and Morgaine had spent the warm months in Aegtrys. They had even gotten along with Admrilia and her neptori.

    ¡°I was terrified that the Semperimar would slice through your ship and I would drown.¡± Morgaine confessed. ¡°I got sick four nights in a row on that horrible boat. Do you remember what you told me then?¡±

    ¡°Not on my shoes?¡±

    ¡°No, after that.¡±

    ¡°I got you.¡± Asho whispered.

    ¡°Yes, you did.¡± Morgaine leaned up and kissed him. Assurance fluttered through Asho, warm and steadfast. ¡°So Asho, know that when you¡¯re out there, I got you too.¡±

    Later, when their hunger for each other¡¯s bodies were sated, Asho¡¯s hands stroked the wild mane of Morgaine¡¯s hair as she dozed in his lap. Asho placed a curl behind the shell of her pale ear; committing the plains of her face to memory. Asho¡¯s attention turned to the mouth of the shrine. To where he knew he would not receive such a warm welcome.

 XXXV. The Embalmers

    XXXV. THE EMBALMERS

    Their party left the barges in the reed dense shoal, and continued the journey to De-Anu by horseback. Nia was just grateful to be off the damned flatboat and back onto solid ground. Up ahead, the Ashenian princess sat awkwardly on her steed, a mare that Wyn-Kai had jokingly named Sunbeam, whose disposition did not match her namesake. Sunbeam was clearly as agitated with the princess as the princess was riding her. Nia fought to tamper her amusement as the princess fought to keep Sunbeam forward on the dusty road.

    Nia still was not sure what had possessed her to confide in Admrilia the truth. Perhaps nearly drowning by the advisor¡¯s hand had made her arrogant. Either way, Admrilia was the enemy. And, if the princess knew of the true origins of the dagger at the bottom of Nia-Uro¡¯s bags, she would not hesitate to kill her.

    Nia rubbed her sternum. The knowledge that she possessed the weapon that the Ashiphiex¡¯s desperately coveted was making her paranoid. At the very least, they were headed back to De-Asha. With any luck, Nia could find a way to gather her family and convince them to run.

    Oh shameful tomb raider. The Peddler¡¯s voice floated in her mind. Scornful as always.

    The sun inched overhead. With any luck, they should arrive at the legate¡¯s garrison by nightfall. Wyn-Kai rode up ahead, engaging his sons in philosophical conversation as the hours wore on. The wind began picking up from the West, stalling their progress. Eventually, Advisor Clavo raised his fist, and they dismounted for a break.

    After relieving herself, Nia peered over Tho-Kai¡¯s shoulder as he regarded a map on his haunches. The papyrus displayed the great swath of desert between De-Asha and the quarries of De-Urs. Few villages scattered the desolate landscape so far from the Kerxa river. Nia knew even fewer would be occupied. Tho-Kai glanced up. ¡°We should be there within a few hours.¡±

    Nia nodded. She had figured as much. She stretched her back and aching quads as the princess¡¯ guards began preparing lunch. Nia turned when she heard Ajaxi¡¯s high pitched squeal. The princess was attempting to search her bags. Nia broke into a sprint, panic flooding through her. ¡°Stop! What are you doing?¡± Admrilia reared her hand back as if it was burnt. ¡°Don¡¯t go rummaging around what isn¡¯t yours.¡±

    The princess¡¯ mouth thinned. ¡°Where did you learn that, tomb raider?¡± Despite the sarcasm, the princess seamed nervous. Almost put-out. Nia bit her tongue as the aker stirred curiously. Admrilia cracked her knuckles in front of her, seemingly out of habit. The princess frowned, her hands falling to her side. ¡°Listen, my intention was not to be a thief. Gods below this is mortifying. I¡¯m¡ª¡±

    ¡°Bleeding.¡±

    The princess¡¯ eyebrows shot into her braided hair. ¡°How do you know?¡±

    Because my teeth are aching. Nia ground her molars together. The sooner she could be rid of the princess, the better. Nia quickly dug through her bags, passing over the linens.

    The princess accepted them gratefully. ¡°Thank you, I¡¯m in your deb-¡±

    ¡°Sandstorm! Sandstorm! Find cover¡ª¡±

    They turned in unison as the funnel of wind met the earth. The gust rushed towards their camp as their party screamed. Nia vaulted into Ajaxi¡¯s saddle as Admrilia stood, completely gobsmacked by the wall of dust. ¡°What in the gods?¡±

    Nia offered a hand down to Admrilia. ¡°Hurry up! You can¡¯t outrun that.¡±

    Admrilia took it without hesitation. Nia ignored the warmth of Admrilia pressed against her back as her muscular arms tightened around her torso. Nia spurred Ajaxi North, away from the storm.

    ¡°What about the others?¡± Admrilia screamed over the storm¡¯s roar.

    ¡°Later! Cover your mouth!¡± Nia pulled up her scarves as the sandstorm cut through their clothes and sliced at their cheeks. The flaps of her packs rose, the goods rattling inside. Nia could only pray to the Lady of the Dunes that they wouldn¡¯t go flying off. If she lost her bags she could very well never find them again.

    Admrilia ducked low¡ª squeezing her torso tightly as Ajaxi switchback against the vengeful gusts. The storm swallowed them into a dark, orange haze. Nia struggled to make out the black shadows of the terrain. Nia pushed them further as a shadow broke from the earth. Ancient mastabas loomed in the nearby Great tombs of a past era when all of Ker was united under one Monarch instead of ten separate houses.

    Sensing her silent command, Ajaxi placed one foot in front of the other towards the monolith of rock. Ajaxi misstepped, stumbling down a shallow revine. The princess yelped and squeezed her tight. ¡°Stormlord¡¯s Tits!¡±

    ¡°Does your god even have tits?¡± Nia asked. She missed Admirala¡¯s muffled reply. She extended a hand out, running it along the large bricks of the mastaba. Ajaxi circled the perimeter of the monument, before they both paused, sensing the opening. Nia dismounted, crawling inside the tunnel. She beckoned Admrilia forward. Ajaxi collapsed in the tomb''s entrance, completely exhausted.

    ¡°Holy gods it¡¯s dark in here.¡±

    Nia pressed her forehead to Ajaxi, thanking his loyal mound. Standing, she dug around her packs for the flint. The torch roared to life. Nia examined the walls, her eyes adjusting to the faint yellow, red, turquoise, and green pigments. Nia walked a little further into the tunnel as it sloped downward. She knew when she was in the land of the dead. There was a certain stillness in the air. A reverence.

    ¡°Fuck.¡± Admrilia cursed behind her. ¡°These pants are completely soiled.¡±

    She¡¯s defenseless. The aker spoke. Now is the time to strike.

    Nia bristled as the aker sent her an image of the Tuat. The monster was already on the surface of her consciousness, and Nia was out of time. Nia exhaled slowly, trying to quail the aker¡¯s insistence bloodthirst. ¡°Princess, I need you to throw me the pack from Ajaxi¡¯s right flank.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± The princess was immediately alert.

    ¡°Quickly.¡± Nia dug her nails into her palms, trying to stay in the present as the Tuat flashed in and out of her vision. She heard Admrilia unstrapping the pack behind her. ¡°No.¡± Nia ordered at the footstep. ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer.¡±

    ¡°You are being unnecessarily dramatic at the moment.¡± The princess said.

    Nia turned around. ¡°Open the pack. Inside you¡¯ll find flint and rations. There is also a rope. Throw it to me.¡±

    ¡°Nia, this is a noose.¡±

    ¡°Just throw it please.¡± Nia ground out. The noose landed at her feet. ¡°Stay here.¡±

    Admrilia crossed her arms. ¡°Like hell I will. You cannot seriously expect me to sit by while you go traipsing through this tomb. Tomb raider.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing.¡±

    ¡°Then why are you acting all suspicious?¡±

    ¡°Damn it Admrilia.¡± Nia snapped. ¡°The aker won¡¯t attack the horse. Stay here.¡± Without waiting for a response, Nia ran down the tunnel. There was a solid column off of a freese around the bend that would serve as the perfect anchor point. Nia threw her clothes overhead as darkness floated over her eyelids. Her hands shook as she tied the base of the rope around the column¡¯s post. She slipped the noose over her neck. ¡°Stalemate.¡± Nia whispered as the aker broke free.

    Nia heaved, sitting upright in a rust-colored dune. Above her milky constellations snaked their way across the dark dome of the Tuat¡¯s sky. Movement in the corner of her eyes alerted her to the aker¡¯s presence. The beast prowled up the dune towards her, taut muscles flexing with every step. Nia was trapped in the molden gold of the aker¡¯s furious eyes.

    Welcome back, ai. The aker snarled. You once again come to deny us justice. The monster tilted its head, displaying the noose taut against its thick throat.

    Nia met the aker¡¯s murderous gaze. I know the prince that¡¯s paid when you are freed. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    I? I! No¡ª the aker lunged forward and Nia raised her forearms to block against the aker¡¯s brandished teeth. She grunted against the animal¡¯s full weight. The aker dipped her head until they were nose to nose. There is only us. The aker and the ai. The two halves of the wyrd that comprise Nia-Uro of De-Asha. We are but ONE!

    Thumbs pressed against Nia-Uro¡¯s eyelids, releasing the sediment buildup from her lashes. A long nail peeled away the clumps of earth around her nostrils. Nia reached out with tired arms. ¡°Admrilia?¡±

    ¡°Welcome traveler.¡± A weak masculine voice replied. Nia blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the total darkness of the tunnel. An old man¡¯s face blossomed with concern as arthritic hands gently lifted the noose around her neck. ¡°Were you trying to kill yourself child?¡±

    ¡°Trying not to kill another.¡± Nia responded weekly.

    ¡°Ah, the woman at the front of the tomb?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Nia leaned her head back against the slanted wall. Her flesh stank of sweat. The elder watched as her exhausted arms wrestled her shirt overhead. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The elder leaned back on his haunches. ¡°That depends, who are you?¡±

    ¡°My name¡¯s Nia-Uro.¡±

    ¡°And your companion?¡±

    Nia hesitated. She considered lying, then thought better of it. ¡°That¡¯s Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex.¡±

    The old man inhaled sharply. ¡°What is the Ashenian doing here?¡±

    ¡°She was on her way to meet the Legate of De-Anu when a sandstorm ravaged our camp. We took shelter here.¡±

    ¡°I see, and why is she here in Ker?¡±

    ¡°Orders of the Conqueror.¡±

    The old man¡¯s mouth thinned further. ¡°And what are you to her?¡±

    Nia considered the question. What was she to the princess? ¡°I¡¯m her guide.¡± She said shortly. ¡°The princess seeks her glory in the west.¡±

    ¡°Are you loyal to her?¡±

    Nia balked. ¡°To be loyal to her would be to court death.¡± No, Nia thought. I could never be loyal to her.

    The stranger rose. ¡°Come.¡± He ordered gently. Nia rose. She hesitated. ¡°Leave her be, she will not follow.¡± Nia followed the elder further into the tomb. The tunnel slanted upwards. Her eyes adjusted quickly in the dark.

    Nia was awed by the well preserved funerary art that lined the walls. ¡°Where are we?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°The great tomb of Osi-Anu, the founder of our House.¡± The old man quickly bowed his head in reverence.

    ¡°Anu? As in the embalmers?¡±

    ¡°The very same. The Ashenians thought they had destroyed us, but they should have known it would be impossible to vanquish one of the royal Houses of Ker.¡± The elders hand curled into an arch. ¡°I am Kamat-Anu, the last baron of this great House.¡±

    ¡°I thought you had been destroyed during the Conquering.¡± Nia whispered.

    ¡°Our survival is a secret few breathing keep. My people have chosen to take refuge here.¡±

    ¡°How many of you are left?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°Forty.¡± Kamat said with no shortage of pride. ¡°Enough to cause trouble for the legate who foolishly declared himself king over the dead. Stop for a moment. We are here.¡± They stopped at a barricade blocked by two middle aged men.

    One rose a torch. ¡°Who is that father?¡±

    ¡°This is Nia-Uro from the House of the Doorway. She will seek refuge with us tonight.¡±

    Kamat¡¯s son¡¯s exchanged skeptical looks as they removed the barricade. Nia blinked rapidly as she was waved forward into a large, brightly lit chamber. The vaulted ceilings rose with the slant of the mastaba, rock lined with the soot from the braziers placed around the cavernous room filled with carpets, low tables, and sleeping mats. Two dozen people jutted their heads up inquisitively as they entered. ¡°Who is that?¡± A woman demanded.

    ¡°This is Nia-Uro from our sister House.¡± Kamat put a hand on her filthy shoulder. ¡°We shall offer her refuge tonight.¡± Kamat-Anu sidestepped around a dozing cobra. A jackal dozed on a sleeping mat near a roaring fire. Nia¡¯s aker stirred at the proximity of being so close to her fellow kerai. Suspicious whispers tore through the chamber. Nia nervously stepped back and whirled around as she collided with someone.

    A young boy massaged his temple. ¡°Ow. you elbowed me in the face.¡±

    ¡°So, sorry.¡± Nia stammered. Hadn¡¯t he been a cobra just moments before. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±

    The boy shrugged and melted back into a venomous snake. He slithered around Nia¡¯s feet before seamlessly refolding into a person. ¡°That¡¯s fair! I can be hard to spot.¡±

    Nia¡¯s eyes quickly darted away.

    ¡°Setnai put some clothes on!¡± Someone heckled.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I need to breathe! Clothes are constricting.¡±

    Kamat-Anu steered Nia away by the shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t mind Setnai.¡± He apologized. ¡°Spending one¡¯s childhood underground makes one¡ª¡±

    ¡°A nudist?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°I was going to say neurotic.¡± Kamat-Anu guided her to a low table. ¡°But it doesn''t matter. Goddess willing my grandchildren will soon see the sun¡ª¡±

    A woman deposited a stale hunk of bread and walked off. Nia was fully aware of the room watching as she waved Kamat-Anu¡¯s offered hand away. ¡°I cannot eat your food.¡±

    ¡°My family has survived fifty years belowground, do not insult our resourcefulness.¡± Kamat tore off a hunk and passed it over. ¡°Eat. You are bound to be starving after the aiea.

    She was. The Anu¡¯s watched curiously as Nia chewed, and chewed, and chewed. She swallowed heavily. ¡°Thank you.¡±  She watched as Setnai chased a young girl¡ª probably his sister, around a fire. ¡°Why do you choose to hide here?¡±

    ¡°After the Conquering, our people were left with few options. The Kai¡¯s aligned themselves with the Ashenians, praying that their bloodlines would merge to benefit them. Others were subjugated to the occupation of the legion, and we chose to bid our time, waiting for when we could return to the sun. Finish that and come.¡± Kamat ordered gently.

    Nia left the rest of the bread and followed to the other end of the chamber. She ducked her head to avoid the ancient beams as Kamat led her down another passage. Kamat¡¯s torch illuminated the caches on either side of the narrow tunnel. The carefully stacked dead.

    ¡°These are the brethren of the House.¡± Kamat said. ¡°Generations of our people have been laid to rest here.¡± The tunnel continued further and the elder pulled back a curtain to reveal what Nia could only describe as a workshop.

    The room was rectangular and lined with braizers. A slab was situated in the middle of the room with a wash basin and crates of tools stacked around it. Bodied in various states of decay were laid out in the salt beds along the perimeter of the room. Nia lifted her scarf to her nose. The smell was abhorrent.

    ¡°I began my training as an embalmer when I was a boy, long before war ravaged my home.¡± Kamat said. ¡°All sons of the House are trained in the practice, and after the Conquering I have found it as necessary as ever to continue my work.¡± Kamat moved towards the slab. Wordlessly, Nia accepted his torch as the elder shuffled to the wash basin. He pulled up his sleeves, revealing intricate tattoos of geometric scales traveling up past his elbows. He dried his hands and moved to the body on the slab. He lifted a knife. ¡°Sit.¡±

    Nia found a crate. ¡°Who were these people?¡±

    ¡°Wanderers mostly, or our fellow kerai running from the legate up north.¡± The stale bread shot up Nia¡¯s throat as Kamat-Anu made his first incision on the cadaver. ¡°All are worth their rites.¡± Kamat cracked the ribcage. ¡°So, Nia-Uro of De-Asha, you are quite the enigma.¡±

    Nia flinched as something went plop into a bucket. Her eyes trailed the five tipped stars on the chamber ceiling to distract herself from the horrible sounds of Kamat-Anu¡¯s work. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°In the sacred resting place of Osi-Anu I find a kerai with a rope around her neck.¡± Nia kept her eyes glued to the ceiling as there was another plop. ¡°What a shame, that you reject the gift of our goddess. Look at me child.¡±

    Kamat gestured to the open cadaver between them. ¡°All men are born with an ai, the body. It is the head and the lungs, and the stomach too. But within the body resides the wyrd. The wyrd is not an organ or a limb. It is¡ª¡± Kamat-Anu raised his bloody hands. ¡°Of the gods. Now, the Lady of the Dunes gifted her people with the ability to manifest their wyrd into the physical world. The aker.¡± Kamat-Anu said.

    ¡°I already know this.¡± Nia insisted.

    ¡°Do you? You do not live it.¡±

    ¡°I- I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    The sudden memory sent a shiver down her spine as flesh ripped below her nails. The blood curdling scream as a hand flew to cover the remnants of a face. ¡°Because I cannot control it.¡± Nia whispered. ¡°I cannot control when it manifests, or what the beast does when I sink into the Tuat. It is like I am a prisoner in my own body. The last time I let the aker free, I nearly killed our legate. My family is now trapped under his mercy.¡±

    Kamat-Anu wiped his hands. ¡°Nia, if you do not embrace the goddess¡¯ gift, you will never be able to help your people. Praise be to the goddess and her Ten.¡±

    ¡°Says the man hiding in a tomb.¡±

    Kamat-Anu positioned a thin metal rod against the dead man''s nostril. Nia flinched as the metal ground against bone. ¡°Child.¡± He chided. ¡°Why do you think that Atesh was able to win the war against our noble houses? It wasn¡¯t his men or their firepower. It was because Atesh possessed a forsaken ability. He can tear the aker straight from the ai.¡±Kamat set the rod aside. ¡°Next time you grow resentful of your elders, consider the choice we had-¡± Tears pricked in Kamat-Anu¡¯s ancient eyes. ¡°Against a god who cleaved the world in two.¡±

 XXXVI. The Legate of De-Anu

    XXXVI. THE LEGATE OF DE-ANU

    Admrilia Hortus Ashiphied was currently having a stalemate with a horse. A horse. ¡°Come on you stupid beast! Move!¡± Admrilia growled as Ajaxi rose up on his hind legs. ¡°I just want the waterskin.¡± Ajaxi bellowed out his nostrils, making his position clear. Admrilia leaned back down against the tunnels wall. THe sandstorm had finished sometime in the middle of the night, and the first rays of dawn illuminated the tomb¡¯s funerary art. Admrilia had fought the desire to leave and find the others. That was, if Nia¡¯s stubborn mule of a horse would let her ride him.

    There was movement in the tunnel. Admrilia shot to her feet. ¡°Took your sweet time, did you?¡± Nia ignored the jibe, shoving past to Ajaxi. He whinnied in greeting and bowed his head for a scratch behind the ears. ¡°I''ve been here all night. Ajaxi wouldn¡¯t even let me get close to him.¡±

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Nia gave Ajaxi an affectionate scratch. ¡°Who''s a good boy?¡±

    ¡°Hand me that pack by your feet.¡± Admrilia did so. Nia quickly dug through it and groaned. ¡°By the Lady, did you eat everything in here?¡±

    Admrilia crossed her arms. ¡°As if you weren¡¯t sated by hunting whatevers crawling around in here.¡±

    Nia''s amber eyes rose. She stretched her neck, exposing the rope burn marks around her neck. ¡°Believe me, princess, the only living thing in here is you, and I don¡¯t think you would have appreciated me sating my hunger on your body.¡±

    On your body. Admrilia¡¯s cheeks flushed. Nia-Uro as  led Ajaxi out of the tunnel. She paused, watching as dawn stretched over the horizon, the warm sunlight making her skin glow golden brown. Admrilia shook her head. She needed to focus. ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll be able to track down the others?¡±

    Nia scoffed low in her throat. ¡°Of course I will.¡±

    Admrilia raised an eyebrow. ¡°That sounded arrogant.¡±

    ¡°Coming from you?¡± Nia grunted as she climbed into Ajaxi¡¯s saddle.

    ¡°Me? Arrogant?¡±

    Nia stared down at her imperiously. ¡°Horribly.¡±

    Admrilia chuckled as she accepted her extended hand up. ¡°Yes well, if you were the prodigal heir to the Ashenian Empire, you¡¯d be arrogant too.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Nia said thinly.

    Admrilia considered that as she wrapped her arms around Nia¡¯s torso. ¡°Well, perhaps not an empire, but you are a member of a royal house.¡±

    Nia scoffed as she coaxed Ajaxi backup the ravine that surrounded the mastaba. ¡°Not quite.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Nia shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Forget I said anything.¡±

    ¡°We likely have hours before we find anyone.¡± Admrilia drawled. ¡°I order you to answer me.¡±

    ¡°Arrogant woman.¡± Nia cursed in kiyr under her breath. Normally, the insult would have demanded retaliation, but instead a small smile formed at the corner of her lips. Admrilia quickly hid it. ¡°I¡¯m not a member of the house by blood. Not really. I''m a bastard. My father¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°You''re a nullius?¡± Admrilia said in surprise.

    Nia-Uro stiffened in her arms. ¡°Yes. Lero and Cythe are my half siblings.¡±

    Admrilia digested this information. ¡°And you have no idea who your mother is?¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Nia shook her head. ¡°No. My father never said, and he¡¯s dead now anyway, so I can hardly ask.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s quite the burden.¡± Admrilia said softly.

    ¡°Yes, yes it is.¡±

    They rode for another half hour until Admrilia spotted figures in the distance. When they reached her neptori, Admrilia fell a well of relief as she dismounted and embraced her guards.

    ¡°Oh thank the Stormlord!¡± Flavius exclaimed as he hugged her. ¡°Alex and I spent half the night looking for you.¡±

    ¡°In the storm?¡± Nia asked doubtfully.

    Alexandros crossed his arms. ¡°There is no way we wouldn¡¯t go to for the Argenti.¡±

    ¡°We found shelter in a tomb until the storm passed.¡± Admrilia explained. She pointed behind them to the lumbering maestaba.

    ¡°A tomb? But you hate confined spaces.¡± Flavius said.

    ¡°Yes well, I hate the dessert more.¡±

    ¡°What did the two of you even do in there?¡± Her guard asked.

    ¡°Braided each other¡¯s hair.¡± Nia quipped.

    Alexandros smirked as Flavius erupted into laughter. ¡°Admrilia? She¡¯d sooner kill you.¡±

    Admrilia rolled her eyes. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get going.¡±

    They found the others an hour later. After recounts of the previous evening, the others had found refuge on the opposite side of the Conqueror¡¯s road in a dilapidated village, they were back on the road to De-Anu. Her uncles had recovered Sunbeam, and Admrilia cursed Tho-Kai as she rode the stubborn mule. By evening, De-Anu¡¯s garrison was in view.

    Admrilia bit her lip as their horses approached the limestone walls. There were no legionnaires stationed; the gate swinging by its hinges. Admrilia held up her fist. ¡°Prepare yourselves.¡± She ordered, her own grip tightening on her spear. She held her breath as they pushed open the door and rode into the empty courtyard. Admrilia grew unsettled. Where were the legionnaires? The legate? Her eyes slid to Wyn-Kai¡¯s. Her grandfather¡¯s mouth a thin line. ¡°Split up.¡± Admrilia ordered. ¡°Uro¡¯s, Uncles- the east barracks. Clavo, Khispen, Wyn-Kai, the west.¡± Admrilia nodded to her neptori. ¡°We¡¯ll take the main house.¡±

    Alexandros nodded tightly. Admrilia dismounted Sunbeam.

    ¡°I have a really bad feeling about this.¡± Flavius whispered to Alexandros as Admrilia marched them up the steps to the main house. Alexandros grunted in agreement as he shouldered the door open. The trio pushed inside the house. Sunlight streamed in through the shuttered windows¡ª illuminating the dust buildup on the floor.

    ¡°Kitchens first.¡± They rounded to the back of the house through the empty main floor. The kitchen appeared as if it hadn¡¯t been used in months, the shelves covered in cobwebs and stale hunks of bread. Alexandros led them back through the empty main floor to the stairwell. They walked up to the second floor. Lines of ants were evident under a closed door at the end of the hall. Amdrilia nodded grimly to Alexandros, and he turned the knob. The ants trailed across the dusty wooden beams and up a cluttered desk to where a man sat hunched over.

    Admrilia swore.

    ¡°Well, now we know why he didn¡¯t answer any of your letters.¡± Alexandros said dryly.

    Admrilia held the hem of her shirt to her nose and stepped further into the room. The legate¡¯s corpse was leathery and unbloated. ¡°How do you reckon he died?¡± Flavius asked.

    Admrilia picked up the chalice that lay at his feet. Whatever liquid had been in it had been long evaporated. ¡°Poison, I reckon.¡± She briefly examined Fillium¡¯s corpse for any signs of a struggle. There were no bloodstains on his clothes or desk.

    ¡°Could it have been the Ten?¡± Flavius asked.

    ¡°Who else?¡± Admrilia snapped. She chided herself. ¡°Sorry, Flavius.¡±

    He waved her off.

    ¡°Argenti¡ª Come look at this. I think I figured out what Fillium and Xur were writing about?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Flavius asked.

    Alexandros handed over a collection of letters from the bookshelf. Admrilia read the receipt. Flavius peered over her shoulder. His nose scrunched up. ¡°Ew. So the Legate was providing Xur with the finest Kerai girls he could procure?¡±

    Admrilia ventured a peek through the desk drawers. ¡°Your theory seems correct.¡± Her mouth thinned. ¡°It seems the Legate of De-Anu fancied himself a skin trader.¡±

    ¡°Princess Admrilia, are you up there?¡±

    ¡°In here, advisor.¡±

    Khispen peered his head through the door. He covered his mouth in shock. ¡°Oh, by the mercy of the stormlord.¡±

    ¡°Well? The others?¡± Admrilia asked.

    Khispen looked visibly ill. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry princess. There must have been an epidemic of some kind. The whole regiment is dead.¡±

    It took everything within Admrilia not to scream.

 XXXVII. De-Urs

    XXXVII. DE-URS

    De-Urs bridged the divide between the rocky hills of Ironore and the infertile sands of Ker. It was a work town¡ª home to the fifth legion¡ª and rows upon rows of cramped labor quarters. The town was dirty, tramped upon, completely devoid of hope or soul. Its legate was waiting for them on the steps of a decaying one story municipal building. De-Urs¡¯ legate was gluttonous, his jowls framing his sneering lips. Balding blonde hair lay flat atop Silius¡¯ unevenly shaped head. His eyes were cloudy¡ª as if the frequent sunlight had burnt his irises straight off.

    Silius kissed their knuckles, followed by the members of his cohort. He bowed from the waist and gave an exaggerated flourish to the bounty of tribute. ¡°My Emperor, it is a considerable honor to welcome you and your most respected Triumph to De-Urs. We are humbled by your presence and honored to give you our greatest hospitality.¡±

    An hour later, Asho¡¯s opinion of Silius¡¯s hospitality was that it was dreadfully abhorrent. The quarters he had been shown too were little more than a soldier''s barracks, and the modest feast held in the mess hall was as flavorless as it was dry. Asho dunked his rye bread into his chalice¡ª wondering if everything he was expected to eat over the following months would taste so granular.

    Kerai slaves stood rigidly against the far wall. Their eyes constantly darted to their table and then back to the floor. Asho stabbed his attention into the kerai man holding the pitcher¡ª attempting to cast his fears, but the man¡¯s hatred and resentment wrecked off of him so palpably that even the most lumped brained soldier could sense it.

    ¡°I was saddened to hear about the legendary legate¡¯s passing.¡± Legate Silius said beside the Conqueror. ¡°Did they ever learn of the manner of his death?¡±

    Asho stopped chewing, curious as well.

    ¡°My heir has gone to investigate if his demise could have been related to a rebellion.¡± The Conqueror said shortly.

    ¡°Hya? The Kerai rebel?¡± Silius sneered. Silius snapped his jeweled hand and the slave with the pitcher approached the dias. He topped off the tables challaces- his hands trembling.

    Asho met the slave¡¯s eyes for a fleeting second. He wants us dead. Asho thought.

    ¡°Go now mutt.¡± Silius ordered. He sneered over his cup as the man retreated. ¡°They scurry away so quickly.¡±

    ¡°As they should.¡± The Conqueror pressed his fingertips together. His eyes were hard. ¡°IT is by my mercy alone their kind still exists.¡±

    ¡°And they have such use to your glorious empire, your excellency. They follow so easily once you break them in.¡±

    Asho raised an eyebrow at the Legate''s caustic condonation. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°Why, the kerai are little more than vermin prince. This nonsense of the kerai rebellion? Hya.¡± Silius waved his hand dismissively. ¡°The brutes don¡¯t have the intelligence to plan and execute such a mission.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°It seems foolhardy to underestimate your enemy so unilaterally.¡± Asho said¡ª his gaze returning to the shackles slaves at the end of the room. ¡°The kerai held off the empire for a decade.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± The Conqueror intoned and Asho basked in the pleasure of his agreement.

    ¡°The master is a slave when he fears those he rules.¡± Silius said. ¡°I assure you, the fifth legion has the dogs under control. The kerai would never dare revolt, and truly, the mines dispose of them so quickly. You¡¯ll see tomorrow my prince, you¡¯ll see.¡±

    The quarries were situated a league off from De-Urs. Legate Silius led the Conqueror, his council, his centori, and Asho down a steep trail to the base of the massive pit. Legionnaires whipped at the kerai laborers, yelling at them to move faster. Asho heard the faint¡ª frantic whispers in kiyr as they hiked to the bottom. Asho was horrible at language, but even he could get the gist. It¡¯s him. The Conqueror is here.

    ¡°The legion has the kerai working on two twelve hour rotations. Seven days a week.¡± Silius explained. ¡°Either from dawn to dusk or dusk to dawn. Our foreman mix up assignments often so the slaves fail to have the opportunity to fraternize. This quarry¡ª along with the others under my jurisdiction are among the most productive in the Empire.¡± Silius said with pride. ¡°After all, work conquers all.¡±

    Screams broke from one of the nearby passages. A kerai man¡ª head to toe in alabaster white dust, barreled towards them at full speed. He waved a pickaxe overhead. A legionnaire turned too slowly as the metal embedded itself into his neck.

    ¡°Kill him!¡± Silius ordered. The surrounding legionnaires ran towards the commotion, drawing their swords. THe slave brought his fingers to his lips and whistled.

    ¡°Ambush!¡± Asho warned. The quarry erupted into chaos. Asho took a step in front of the Conqueror and drew his sword. The Conqueror¡¯s centori encircled them in a tight formation.

    The kerai had managed to disarm his guards and run towards the Conqueror. He extended his arms above his head. ¡°For the Goddess and her Ten!¡± He cried. Asho gasped as his arms burst with hair, his hands transforming into sharp claws. A centori stepped forward as the hyena lunged, thrusting his spear upward.

    ¡°Contain the uprising!¡± The centori threw the dead hyena aside. Half of their ranks broke away to assist the outnumbered legionnaires as dozens of kerai laborers ran down the pit towards them. Some armed with pisces, others baring their teeth.

    Asho swung his sword in time as talons extended for his throat. The prince rolled away from the diving eagle. He cut off the head of a lunging snake. Elsewhere, the Conqueror held the wyrdstone aloft, severing the aker¡¯s from their bodies. He killed any who came into his path instantly. A circle of limbs¡ª both human and animal littered his feet. Horns extending from skull and ears; wings splitting from twisted spines.

    Asho grabbed Silius roughly by the elbow as the man tried to weasel away. Asho threw the heavier man into the dirt. The Legate raised his ringed hands in subjugation as Asho pointed his sword at his throat. ¡°You call this under control?¡± He demanded as the screams of the fighting echoed off the quarry¡¯s walls.

    ¡°Please prince! This is merely the actions of a rogue few.¡±

    ¡°This is a riot. An assassination attempt.¡± Asho growled.

    ¡°Please, spare me!¡±

    The Conqueror loomed overhead, the wyrdstone clenched tightly in his fist. ¡°You dare beg for your life. You allowed these festering rats to conspire under your very nose while you grew plump and lazy.¡± The Conqueror turned to Asho. ¡°What should we do with him, prince?¡±

    Asho¡¯s ears hummed with anger. Silius had allowed the kerai to get within paces of the Conqueror. His arrogance had allowed them to conspire. To attempt an assassination. There was no forgiveness for a mistake that perilous. No Ashenian mercy to extend. The legate had betrayed the empire. ¡°He dies.¡±

    ¡°He dies.¡± The Conqueror agreed, and cleaved.