[b][u]Astraea, Kingdom of Siphonia, Otnemarcasan Empire[/u][/b]

Large transport junks glided across calm waters, sea gulls squawking in the sky, as Lady Ahimatsu rose in the distant east. Smaller ships, flying baroques, darted around the larger junks, their crews on the lookout for any merchant junk that may have had the audacity to have come from an Ithicist port before heading to Siphonia. The waters of the Southern Siphonese Sea had been calm as of late, unusually so. Perhaps Lord Irochi had turned his anger elsewhere, brewing storms to throw at the Ithicists in Kunland instead of the true believers of the Sibytte faith. There was no way of truly knowing, as the mind of a deity was truly vaster than all the oceans in the world.

“Is that the ship?” A man asked as he watched a large transport junk slip into port from the balcony outside of his room. The man, while not the most handsome of men, certainly was far from ugly. The fact that he was dressed in some of the finest clothes in the empire certainly didn’t hurt his appearance. 

“That is correct Lord Shan” a nearby servant answered. One of Lord Shan’s many servants.

“Most excellent” Lord Shan said, his eyes locked on the ship and the promise of superior arms it represented. He had spent months negotiating with the heretical Karkathians. Months! But it was all worth it. They may not grant the old Ithicist deities the respect they were due, respect given only after Justinian himself, but they did know how to forge blades of the finest quality. Blades that his clan now held a majority of, at least within the borders of the Otnemarcasan Empire. He held the majority of power in Siphonia now. Given enough time his clan’s reach would expand into Old Otnemarcas and Kunland. Then he would turn his gaze across the sea. Yes, he could imagine it now. Thousands of ships sailing towards the Isoterix Isles and Hokksulgug, their crews chanting praises for both Justinian and clan Shan. The heathens of both those lands trampled under the feet of his soldiers as they marched towards glory… and further riches for his treasury.

“See that the next shipment includes even more blades” Lord Shan said, glancing at the servant out of the corner of his eye.

“Where will we get the funds for such an expense, lord? Our coffers…” Shan let out a long sigh. Why were servants always so idiotic?

“And that is exactly why we are raiding Ithicist merchant junks” Shan chastised, “be more aggressive with the raids if you must. Just see it happen.” He turned back to the port, thoughts of conquest and riches flowing through his mind.

[b][u]Eger, Kingdom of Acitha, Otnemarcasan Empire[/u][/b]

The imperial palace was quite the sight to behold. Towers and walls of wood and stone, rooms adorned by some of the finest silks in the land, space enough to house a small army, a room for each individual soldier, and an army of servants, nobles, and royalty to occupy those rooms. The imperial palace was quite a sight to behold, but it would always pale in comparison to the historic capital in Kyugyu, the capital He had abandoned. But soon He would return the seat of power to the throne of Old Otnemarcas, the heretical Ithicists resigned to memory. It would be glorious. Emperor Lii couldn’t help but let a smile creep across his face at the thought of returning home.

“Your Grace?” A miniseter nervously asked. Emperor Lii merely raised an eyebrow at the minister, bringing his attention back to the here and now. “Shall we burn the women too?” The minister repeated, his eyes glued to the ground before Lii’s feet, his head bowed in submission. Not a trace of disgust or dismay at the thought of condemning women to death by burning could be found in his voice. Smart man.

“Make the children watch” He said as he stepped past the servant and out into the courtyard. “Oh” He paused for a moment as he took in the placement of the wooden poles and mounds of timber and straw that would soon serve as the funeral pyres. “Place several by the door over there,” He said with a gesture, “I think the light given off will look quite pleasant there, don’t you think?”

“Of course Your Grace” The minister was quick to agree. He shot a look at a group of nearby soldiers, who quickly began setting up a pole and mound of fuel for a fire by the specified doorway. The Emperor let another smile creep across his face as the soldiers finished up their work. Yes, the light there would be most pleasant.

His smile evaporated as the form of a determined woman came into sight. What was her name? Howin? Huan? Juan? Mu tan! That was her name, yes! He wondered how he could ever forget the name of the pretty concubine as she prostrated herself before him.

“Your Grace, second to none except those who dwell in the heavens” She said as she rested her forehead against the ground, “I beg of you to show mercy to these lost people. I know that these people refuse to give up their ways, but that is merely because they know no other way. I beg of you: show mercy and patience. In time they will turn towards Justinian, just as you have.”

Emperor Lii looked at the woman as she spoke, his face a stone mask lacking emotion. For a moment all was quiet, the silence broken only by the chirping of an occasional bird. Finally the stone mask moved, a single eyebrow raising. The emperor turned towards his minister, concubine Mu tan letting out first a sigh of relief followed by a gasp of dread.

“Burn her too.”

“Your Grace-“ The minister’s sentence ended in a incomprehensible babble as he looked at the emperor’s expression. “It will be done” He said after regaining the smallest fraction of his composure. A pair of soldiers stepped to either side of the still prostrated concubine who was now letting out a torrent of questions and pleas for mercy, now for herself.

“Why?” Mu tan asked as the soldiers grabbed her by the arms and lifted her to her feet. “Why?”

“You ask mercy for those who refuse to accept the light of Justinian,” Emperor Lii turned his back on the woman, “and then you dare ask why? Only a traitor of the state would even consider showing mercy to a heathen. Isn’t that right minister?” He didn’t wait to hear a response from either the minister or Mu tan. He walked back into his palace, Mu tan’s screams music to his ears. 

The emperor paused for a moment, sure he was forgetting something. Ah yes! Mu tan was Meirong’s mother. Meirong, such a bright girl, was his pride. She would be heartbroken to hear of her mother’s death. He turned his head ever so slightly as Mu tan’s screams become shriller, the stench of burning flesh drifting to Emperor Lii. He shrugged an “oh well” as he took a deep breath. “Damned Ithicist sympathizer” He muttered as he continued on his way. He never had liked the woman anyways.

[b][u]Somewhere near the Southern Border, Kingdom of Acitha, Otnemarcasan Empire[/u][/b]

The boy ran. They all ran. For how long he couldn’t remember. Minutes? Hours? It felt like he had been running for weeks, but his mind, the rational part not completely overtaken by fear, was confident that it couldn’t have been longer than a day. There was no way he could run for more than an entire day without rest, food, or water. It had taken far less time for some of his companions, those other people who ran around him out of fear, to drop to the ground in exhaustion. Muscles in the boy’s legs screamed at him, begging him to drop to the ground and rest. But that would mean stopping and stopping meant death. Even now he could hear *them* in the distance.

The boy picked up his pace as he heard the distinct click click clack of their hooves. He cared not when a branch struck him in the face, leaving a long nasty gash across his cheek. Better that then what *they* would do to him. The image of their sneering faces, burning buildings, wings made of broken bone drenched in blood drove the boy to keep moving. Keep running. If only he and those who ran with him made it to the border, perhaps they would have a chance at survival. He knew it would never be, however, as the click click clack became steadily louder. The boy could hear screams and laughter and the sound of flesh meeting cold, uncaring steel somewhere behind him. He risked a look over his shoulder and there they were. The demons wearing the flesh of men.

The Sibyttes, astride their astraean horses, were almost on top of them. This close he could even see their faces, some masks of hatred, others nearing something close to sympathy. In their end what expression they had on their faces matter not. What mattered was the swords, axes, spears, and bows they had in their hands. All weapons that they were using to kill the boy’s companion. The boy’s eyes widened a Sibytte turned a hateful glare upon him, notching an arrow into the bow he carried and pulling back. Just before the Sibytte let go a terrible roar echoed throughout the area. With a small jump the Sibytte released his hold on the arrow, just barely missing the boy. The Sibytte was about to notch another arrow when he was suddenly gone. Well, gone wasn’t exactly the correct word. He was still there, only crushed under a ton of Kunland tiger. The tiger let out a fierce roar, the woman sitting on his back seemed oddly calm given that she was riding a massive tiger like it was a horse.

“Our Lady of Hope” The boy heard himself muttered as he stopped to stare at the woman. Astride her tiger, a slender dao in either hand, as the wind whipped her hair back she looked to be a warrior goddess of legend. The boy found himself in a trance, staring at the woman as her tiger pounced on a nearby Sibytte, one of her dao’s darting out to slice at a second soldier. He had heard stories, but he had never imagined she would be so….

“Don’t stop” The woman was looking right at the boy. “Keep going.” The boy nodded before turning back towards the south, all trace of weariness gone. She had given him a chance to survive. It was a chance he would not squander.

[hider=Summary]-Clan Shan in Siphonia receives a shipment of weaponry from Karkath, orders are given to purchase more weapons and raid more Ithicist ships to fund this purchase
-Consort Mu tan, Princess Meirong’s mother, is turned into a living torch alongside numerous captured Ithicists
-A group of Ithicist refugees fleeing towards the southern border are saved by a woman riding a massive Kunland Tiger[/hider]