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🕑 Added 2024-05-21 06:38:24 +0000 UTCChapter 09
- 1 -
Juliana Lockheart sat perched on the edge of her plush bed. Draped in a silk robe the color of twilight, she exhaled smoke from her lips. Tonight, she couldn’t stop herself from lighting one. The cigar hung loosely from her lips as she read the letter in her hand with a smile. Her friend usually held icy control, but right now, as she read the letter, the princess of Solaris appeared to be ranting. How amusing.
Dearest Juliana,
Forgive the late hour. Our royal ravens, those feathered fiends, took to napping after a particularly daring breakfast heist from Fiona’s bowl. Speaking of the little monster, she is currently engaged in mortal combat with a particularly belligerent throw rug. A metaphor for our Empire, Solaris, perhaps? Though one far more entertaining.
Politics, Juliana, politics! A pox upon them!
Firstly, however, let me express my gratitude for the Starlight Herb you sent. It arrived in perfect condition—I can finally break through the barrier of Rank 6 and level up! I would hug you if you were here, I am that delighted. I had mentioned in my previous letter about my struggle to find this rare magical ingredient. Your thoughtfulness has saved me countless hours of searching. I am truly grateful.
Your letter arrived just as the sun was setting. Regardless, I must say, your inquiries about the Empire were most timely. The current state of affairs is as tumultuous as ever, but your interest brings a certain comfort.
The woes of the Empire know no bounds, nor sleep schedules. The Council chambers have become a viper’s den, with every faction angling for power and influence. The Zardonian trade talks are a mere sideshow to the true tempest brewing on the northern border. The interminable border dispute with the barbarians of the Frostlands seems on the precipice of boiling over once more. Their new chieftain, a brute by the name of Borstag, rallies his men with promises of plunder and glory. Father clings to peace like a limpet to a rock, but the Frost Marches grow bolder by the day, and his patience is wearing mighty thin with the inexperienced chieftain.
As always, our esteemed Council members bicker over tactics older than my grandmother’s corgi. That was sarcasm, by the way. Though one sorely needed. Expect a summons from your father soon. He would likely dispatch a delegation to your father, Lord Alexander, King of Obsidian, and knowing him, you’ll be the one trekking north.
The Asterian Empire has sent a new ambassador, a man named Volkov, whose reputation precedes him. They say he has a silver tongue and a heart as cold as the northern wastes. However, I find it delightful that the century long conflict with Asterians is coming to an end!
Now, onto the truly perplexing. Shahzada Amir Khan of a Sultanate from Zafir Empire in the south has taken to throwing veiled threats around since he arrived with a delegation. The man speaks with the bluster of a peacock yet carries the political acumen of a barnacle. Why the Sultan sent him here is beyond me. A jest, perhaps? A test of my much-restrained fist? Father insists on decorum, of course. Ugh. The indignity! I fucking hate it. I swear, the intrusive thoughts are almost enough to make one yearn for a good, old-fashioned beheading. But alas, diplomacy is the order of the day.
I confess, Juliana, I find myself envying your brother’s exile to the Bordertowns. At least he gets some fresh air and excitement. Here, I’m drowning in a sea of stuffy pronouncements and endless meetings. Regardless, a storm is brewing on the horizon, my friend. The memories of the last war fade with each generation, and some, particularly the younger nobles, are itching for a fight. Glory-hungry pups, the lot of them.
Write back soon, Juliana. Your wit is a life raft in this sea of suffocating etiquette.
With love and longing for a good brawl,
Elizabeth Solaris
After reading the letter, Juliana felt her fingers twitch. Elizabeth had no shortage of sharp intellect or courage, but sometimes the girl could use a bit of rest. Politics had turned her hair whiter, though, admittedly, the color suited the woman well.
As her mind wandered, so too did her eyes until, like magnets to a lodestone, they fell on the portrait of her little brother, Theodore. She sighed, then shook her head. What can I even do... Juliana clenched and unclenched a fist. If there was one thing she hated, it was being helpless. Regardless, the political landscape was as tumultuous as ever before. There wasn’t much anyone could do without falling into someone else’s trap. Still, the fact remained that a good third of the Council members seemed bent on starting a new war. Hopefully, the Emperor, Lucianos Solarian IV, would remain firm.
But as she turned her attention back to the letter, Juliana allowed her tense face to relax as a mischievous smirk appeared. She got up and moved over to her desk, writing a letter. Scribbling away at her reply, she laughed before she waved the sheet into the air until the ink had dried. Then she sealed the message with a wax seal of a lock. With practiced efficiency, Juliana tied it to the royal pigeon, gave a gentle stroke to its neck before tossing the bird in the air.
Her personal guard, Alessia, coughed from the side.
“Lady Juliana. Is Lady Elizabeth well?” Alessia, dressed in full ceremonial attire, smiled.
“As well as ever,” Juliana smiled, her short silver hair swaying as she chuckled.
“Then I’m sure the Empire will be fine. Sending her your reply, Lady Juliana?”
“Indeed,” Juliana replied. “Are we to start the interrogation anytime soon?”
They’d captured one of the Night Whispers, an infamous underground guild in Astra Lucis—the Capital of their kingdom, Obsidian. Obsidian was a kingdom under the Solaris Empire, and Juliana’s father was the king of said kingdom. Juliana wasn’t really one to call the kettle black, not when her family’s security forces used a good dozen such criminal organizations, but one group in particular was making quite the stink.
The problem wasn’t apprehending the man.
Rather, the difficulty came from breaking his will and having the rat reveal any names or, much more preferable, secret locations where his band of thieves stored the loot they had acquired over the past year.
Obsidian’s population stood at nearly a million souls, and it was one of the bigger Kingdoms under the Solaris Empire.
Alessia nodded to her query. “Yes, it should be much longer, Miss Juliana,” Alessia nodded and scratched her cheek, an action that drew Juliana’s gaze. Alessia was a bear of a woman, large and imposing. In her youth, Juliana remembered the woman fighting off four young adventurers single-handed.
That memory never failed to give Juliana chills.
“What is it, Alessia?”
“Um, it was Lady Karmichael that brought him in. She might demand something, milady,” Alessia explained sheepishly.
Lady Karmichael wasn’t exactly an enemy but it was best not to have that woman poke around. Juliana knew the type very well.
“Let’s go,” Juliana grumbled, then marched off to find her meddlesome Aunt, Lady Karmichael. She found her in the torture room, much to her disappointment and annoyance.
“My dear child,” Lady Karmichael smirked as Juliana strode into the dimly lit room. “Fancy finding you here.”
Juliana rolled her eyes. The woman had a blindfold on and a glimmering knife in her hands. Juliana could see a dark patch of blood-stained the floor, and on the other side, the man she assumed was from the Night Whispers lay slumped against the wall. He had passed out, or was sleeping.
“Come now, don’t look at me with those beautiful eyes,” Lady Karmichael leaned in close, “this room will do you good.”
“No, thank you,” Juliana said flatly.
“So uptight,” Lady Karmichael sighed.
“Go annoy my father or mother with your antics, I beg you, aunt,” Juliana groaned, wanting nothing to do with this place, nor that woman’s meddling.
“Alas, I am all too curious about his story to leave now.”
“I hope you’re not expecting favors,” Juliana pointedly stared at her.
“What else are family good for?” the lady sighed dramatically. “But worry not, little niece, I brought some things that could... encourage his cooperation. Be a darling and have a look for me?” she requested while rummaging through a rather bulky satchel.
Juliana rubbed the back of her neck. There was no point trying to tell the older woman ‘no’. That would only encourage her. Better to pick her battles carefully.
“Very well,” Juliana conceded. She didn’t hate her aunt, neither was the woman antagonistic. Just... insufferably annoying. As expected, she went straight for her tools.
“Oy, wake up, honey. I didn’t put enough poison in you to let you rot!” the woman said with a kind smile, kicking the passed-out captive, waking him up.
Juliana watched dispassionately—she held no sympathy for people like him.
“Where am I? How long was I out?” The man groaned as he opened his eyes.
“Doesn’t matter, honey,” Lady Karmichael beamed innocently at the groaning man. “Now, let us begin, shall we?”
The man’s face turned ashen, then as he most likely recalled what he’d gone through, he crawled back and screamed. He kept screaming, yet neither the sound nor his futile resistance stopped Lady Karmichael and her smile from approaching him.
“Hush now, you won’t even feel this, pinky promise,” she promised, turning a pleasant smile on her prey.
It took no longer than a few minutes for Lady Karmichael to get the man talking in a bubbling mess, although only in grunts. And a good half an hour more before he passed out again. In the meanwhile, Lady Karmichael seemed engrossed and blissfully unbothered.
“Well, wasn’t that something? Alessia, my dear,” Lady Karmichael spoke her final verdict and turned to face Juliana’s personal guardswoman, “is our good guest not just adorable, hmm?”
“...As you say, Lady Karmichael,” Alessia replied awkwardly.
Juliana, on the other hand, was deep in thought. The Night Whispers, it seemed, were based in one of the Bordertowns, Corinth, if the tortured man spoke the truth. They’d been behind a recent dungeon incursion there and were getting too powerful for their own good. Juliana narrowed her eyes. Looks like I’m gonna have to visit the Bordertowns before I’m off north. Thankfully, the Bordertowns happen to be in the north anyway.
“It is settled, my lovely Juliana” Lady Karmichael said smugly, placing both her hands on her hips.
“What’s settled?” Juliana looked at her curiously.
“You and I are heading to the north,” she laughed merrily.
“Huh, what?” Juliana raised an eyebrow. “We?” she asked.
“Brother insists I accompany you. Those places are filled with scoundrels, and it’s the least I can do to keep my baby niece safe.”
“What are you talking about,” Juliana said, though she’d already made the connections.
“You’ll see,” the woman said.
Juliana let out a long-suffering sigh.
- 2 -
Sure enough, Juliana was summoned by her father to his study two days later.
“I need you to go north and beat some sense into the new chieftain,” father spoke, not taking his eyes off the papers he was looking over.
“What is it about?” she asked.
“Yvarik seeks to settle things amicably, but his son is obstinate, and given that he’s the new chieftain, Yvarik cannot do anything anymore. He’s old, no longer the chieftain he used to be. His hands are tied; his words and attempts at peace no longer have the weight to sway Borstag. Borstag is proving... unpredictable. The treaties we established seem to hold little sway with him.” He said thoughtfully. “He’s young, untested. Power can be a seductive siren song.”
Juliana stiffened. “Surely diplomacy is still an option?”
Her father steepled his fingers. “Diplomacy has its limits, Juliana. We’ve established borders, signed treaties, yet Borstag disregards them all. Yvarik’s son’s a true barbarian. Reject the treaties, ignores the borders we so painstakingly established. Has no honor. Borders are mere suggestions to him. Their raids on our settlements grow bolder by the day. We need a show of force, a message that echoes beyond the Frostwall Mountains.”
“But the treaties—”
“Were negotiated with Yvarik, a man of honor,” he interrupted gently. “Yvarik, I respect immensely. He’s a man of reason, a rarity among his kind. However, history is littered with broken promises from those who haven’t yet grasped the value of peace. We can’t risk the safety of our people on speculation. Borstag is a different breed. He prioritizes immediate gain over long-term stability. As always, you have your mother’s perspective, not the reality,” her father sighed. “While your views would indeed be ideal, unfortunately, this is not an ideal world we live in. They’re barbarians and cannot be trusted to hold their vows.”
“We’ve already ceded vast swathes of fertile land in the treaty, haven’t we?” she argued. “What more do they want?”
“Their insatiable greed knows no bounds,” he said. “They disrespect the sanctity of agreements, these barbarians. They are an infestation that needs to be dealt with decisively.”
Juliana couldn’t hold back any longer. “With all due respect, Father,” she said, a knot in her throat, “the so-called barbarians have a much higher regard for their [Oaths] than most of the Obsidian nobles who line their pockets with bribes and plot behind each other’s backs! The Orcs of the Iron Peaks have been exemplary trading partners for years, and the Sylvans-”
“Sylvans?” her father cut her off, his voice hardening. “Those reclusive tree-dwellers may not be actively hostile, but their neutrality leans towards a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.”
Juliana pressed. “Perhaps it wouldn’t have to come to that if we treated as equals, with respect and understanding—”
“The world isn’t always sunshine and roses, my dear,” he said, his voice turning firm but not unkind. “Strength is a necessary tool, even a distasteful one. It doesn’t negate diplomacy, but sometimes serves as its foundation. Think of it as a language some understand better than words.” He sighed. “This is precisely why your mother’s softness is ill-suited for these times. I love her compassion, but they understand only strength, Juliana. Force them to submit, or they will overrun us all. You’re far too idealistic. When the time is right, I would not hesitate to lower my head for the betterment of our people, but right now, it is not the time.
“Barbarians, Juliana, are driven by nothing more than primal urges and insatiable greed. They cannot be reasoned with. Their promises are as empty as the wind whistling through their desolate plains. Yvarik was, and still is, different. A strong leader, as Yvarik was, can subdue them and focus their attention on something else, or amongst themselves, but someone like Borstag? He who so easily falls to temptation? He cannot be a strong leader the barbarians need. I consider Yvarik a friend, so does Emperor Solarian IV. Look, I understand it goes against your views, but this isn’t about mere border skirmishes. We need to shore up the northern settlements before the situation spirals further.”
Juliana’s jaw clenched. “Father-”
“Stop, Juliana, I do not wish to argue on something pointless.”
Juliana frowned deeper but held her tongue. She understood the differences between her mother’s and father’s perspective on other races. Mother wanted people to get along; father, on the other hand, believed that they couldn’t learn to get along, so peace could only come when some groups of people were subdued by others. It was a view many had taken among their nobles. Barbarians were little better than monsters to them.
“Intelligence comes with inherent stupidity. Civilization, my dear, is a fragile thing. Even the most advanced minds can fall prey to the primal urge for conquest. It seems embedded within the very fabric of existence,” her father said. “Intelligence is a double-edged sword. It allows for great achievements, but also the capacity for immense destruction. Perhaps, in the end, all intelligent life, regardless of origin, carries the seeds of its own downfall. This is an inherent flaw, not exclusive to barbarians.”
All this talk of barbarity ignored centuries of peaceful coexistence with the Barbarians, the Orcs with their fierce warrior culture, the nomadic Centaurs who valued freedom above all else, and even the Sylvans with their deep connection to nature—all were seen as little better than monsters by some. But even then, the Orcs, though fierce, had established trade agreements and even military alliances with the Empire in the past. The nomadic Centaurs, while wary of outsiders, respected strength and courage, and their neutrality helped maintain a balance of power. The Sylvans, though reclusive, were vital stewards of the forests, and their knowledge of herbal remedies was unmatched. The alliance with the Healers Guild and [Druids] from the Sylvans was one of the strongest, as well as one of the most beneficial ones.
There had been other races in the past.
Elves had essentially vanished some 500 years prior along with dragons and some other races like the Dwarves, the enigmatic Djinn and the amphibious Merfolk. The only remaining races on the continent were the aforementioned Orcs, Centaurs, and Sylvans, along with the Nagas—serpent-like humanoids residing within the Zafir Empire to the south. Beastkin, humanoids with animalistic features, were rumored to occupy another continent entirely.
“There are two pressing matters, then,” he continued, his voice returning to a semblance of control. “One, you must travel north and deal with this Borstag. Subdue him, if necessary. Remind him who holds the true power in this land. The other... I need you to take your aunt with you and use the situation to fortify the northern settlements. Coin and manpower are dwindling thanks to the Progressives’ constant meddling. They’re a rising group of young nobles within the Council who believe the Empire should focus on diplomacy and internal development, neglecting the need for a strong military presence. They criticize our spending on border security and military campaigns, seeing them as wasteful and provocative. They are naive, Juliana. While their ideals are good, they’re far too naïve—having seen no war, no barbarity. Nothing. They’re children. They do not yet know that without a strong military, peace is an illusion. Regardless, you will reinforce the northern settlements, bolster their defenses. Show them they are not forgotten by the true power of the Empire. Am I understood?”
Juliana bowed curtly. “As you command, Father. I will depart tonight.”
“One more thing,” he added, his brow furrowed. “See to your brother, Theodore, while you’re in that region. Your mother worries, and frankly, the boy needs a stern hand.”
Juliana only nodded. There was no denying her mother’s wishes on this, not that Juliana disapproved. She herself wanted to check up on her brother—he was rather troublesome, but he was her brother, all the same. Had you just kept yourself in check, you’d still be here, she sighed.
