[center][h2]Empire of Takeda[/h2]
July 26, 1910[/center]

The always say that you never forget where you are when something unforgettable happens. When one of those moments that influences history so strongly it alters your life as you know it with such finality that it's impossible to ignore. That had happened a few times in the Empires history, the Great Earthquake of 1501, the Shogunate Wars of 1636 and 1791. Each time the Empire had been shaken to its core as tens of thousands had died, but all of these paled in the face of what was to come.  

Kenji Goto stood on the steps of the telegraph station, a manila letter crumpled up in one fist as he stared blankly at the bustling streets of the Capital. He was vaguely aware of the swish of his own tail as it bumped off the steps behind him, the twitch of his ears as he detected a conversation thirty feet away. War. A War to End All Wars. As the Foreign Secretary, he knew enough about the world to understand that you couldn't just assassinate someone of that rank without consequence.

He began to mentally sort through the alliance system as he knew it. Takeda had taken great pains to avoid making any alliances for the past two hundred years and now he feared that might go poorly for them. An Empire with a population of their size didn't get to sit out of a major war, somehow, they would be dragged in. To the West was Redcliff Hegemony, with whom they had had an uneasy truce since the Border Wars sixty years ago. That hatred was sure to flare up again given the chance and with Redcliff parking half of its army on the Cethos border, the War Dragons in the Council would began calling for war once again. 

The Kratorian Imperium would undoubtedly have something to say about it and that was going to be interesting... It had not escaped Kenji's attention that the old Empires of the world had clung to their ways so tightly that they ended up lagging behind their smaller counterparts. Should it come to blows, Takeda could put nearly two million soldiers into the field. On paper it was a terrifying army. In reality... Well, the artillery was fairly modern but the infantry carried antiquated firearms and any sort of wheeled vehicle was simply a thing to dream about, unless it was a basic car imported from overseas. 

The airforce was Takedas greatest strength. The planes were virtually modern, bought from such powers as Etresna and considered the elite of the Takedan military. A high number of Bi-Planes made it the sole air power on the Island, and perhaps in the region, but the limited flight range of any plane made it impossible to move off the Takedan mainland without island hoping. 

"Sir?" The word came with with a faint hiss and Kenji shook himself to look down at the Ryūjin Officer in charge of his Elvish escort. "Where too?"

Kenji looked up and down the street. Like every other city in the Empire, the streets were narrow and hemmed in with three to four story buildings. Electric cables ran to and fro every which way, mixing with lines for drying clothes, telegraph cables, Imperial banners, and so many other things that at times it looked like some had eaten a colourful Shiono fish and thrown it up in the air. 

Thankfully, though Western technology was slowly making its way into day to day life, there were none of the noisy automobiles that could be found in Redcliff, and very few citizens had started adopting foreign clothing customs which always look so silly to him. 

"The Palace, and the Empress, at once." 

The Ryūjin nodded and turned to one of the Elven guardsmen, giving him a sharp nod so that the Elf placed two fingers between his teeth and gave a sharp whistle. In an instant a carriage appeared around the corner of the telegraph office, drawn by four Qilin. The creatures were beautiful with soft green body colour, blue legs, with blonde mane, moustache, and long tail that ended in a golden explosion of hair. They were tremendously fast, and unlike conventional horses, not afraid of Ryūjin.

Kenji sprang into the the open topped carriage, aware of how similar it was to the one Prince Wilhelm may have ridden in. The guard captain joined him and the Elves stepped up onto the sides of the carriage or took a hand of the harnesses. They could run swiftly next to the Qilin on the city streets, in the countryside they would be left far behind.

The driver clicked his tongue and the Qilin leapt forward, hurrying up the long street towards the distant bulk of the Imperial Palace. A bugler seated next to him played an urgent note over and over again as they raced along so that the crowd, warned of their coming, parted and bowed as they sped past. That was only proper afterall, the Imperial Sigil flew from a small flagstaff on the rear of the carriage, marking him as an exalted "person". 

They passed through the lower city and up into the estate that surrounded the Imperial Palace. It was an impressive and brooding fortress. Built five hundred years before it boasted massive walls with massive moats and interlocking gatehouses and fields of fire that had been rendered virtually obsolete by the invention of modern artillery. It was capable of garrisoning some 100,000 soldiers if needed and housed all the Imperial archives, family, and national treasures. It was scared ground.

They passed through gate after gate, their papers diligently checked by ever so polite Elves and their Ryūjin officers. The Elves, dressed in plain black uniforms, all carried firearms while their Wyrmkin Officers wore swords proudly. A clash of ages.

At length they drew up before the main Keep, towering six stories above them, roof tops extending out and turning up at the edges, painted white with a black trim. Cherry blossoms floated on the breeze as Kenji stepped down from the carriage and he heard the sound of a woman giggling somewhere nearby but ignored it as his Empress appeared on the steps before him. Ordinarily this would be unthinkable but today was no ordinary day.

"Well?" She asked sharply, her nostrils flaring. She was a Ryūjin amongst Ryūjin. Tall, slender, beautiful even by Elven standards. Her scales were a soft golden pink that glowed in the afternoon sun, seemingly perfectly trimmed with the purest white he had ever seen.

He held out the telegram, still crumpled from his journey. "It will be war, your majesty."