[b]--Elyria, Capital City of the Grand Protectorate--
~~Imperial House of Lords, 24798th session of the Regency Council~~
January 2nd, 1600 hours[/b]

The sound of a gavel, undoubtedly that of Duke Daraduin, the Lord Speaker, brought the attention of the House back onto the topic at hand, the same topic that had been in discussion for the past century. 

The question of who to elect as the Monarch of Lithla

“Now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted, my fellow lords…” began Count Lythys.

“What, that the noble we elect as Monarch has to be at most, the same height if not shorter than our late Empress? Absolutely proposterous! If I had to wager, the bloody Cindorayan cats paid you off to delay the selection process!” 

The first voice of protest set off a thunderstorm of like-minded shouts, the Regency Council broke off into two camps, as was usual. A herd of lords would defend the accused, citing that they had valid points or that to respect the memory of the beloved late Empress Lilith, that any candidate for the crown simply could not be more competent than the former Empress. On the other side of the room, the accusing lords would descend into a frenzy of defamations and insults, claiming the accused to be some sort of foreign stooge and bought out by the nation’s enemies to prevent Lithla from returning to stability. 

Duke Daraduin, perhaps disheartened by this, or seeing the utter futility of controlling what amounted to dignified nobles acting like spoiled children, breathed a heavy sigh. His sentiments were likewise echoed by Her Ladyship Arrenys Faesala, Grand Regent of the Protectorate, who simply rested her head on her left hand, wearily watching the House bicker as it always has over the most trivial and unimportant of matters. 


Arrenys began to push herself out of her seat, rising to address the assembled lords before her with a tone both strict and authoritative, resembling (as some of the older Lords would remark) the manner of speech of the late Empress. 

“My Lords, that is enough!” she said as the House returned to some semblance of order and silence.

“Do you all truly think there is a point debasing yourselves arguing over a foolish matter such as this? Are all of you truly [i]that[/i] moronic as to waste more of our precious time debating such folly? In my thirty and three years of service to the realm as Grand Regent, arguments such as this have come up time and time again. It’s no wonder we haven’t elected anyone in the past century this Council has existed.”

As she sat down, hand over her face and shaking her head in disapproval, the House of Lords seemed to rumble. The murmurs of the assembled lords crescendoed into outright panic as the very foundations shook, prompting the Lord Speaker to rise and hammer the gavel onto the block to calm them down.

“My Lords, please, sit down. This minor disturbance is nothing more than some construction work, I am sure.” He spoke, in a calm tone, struggling to keep [i]another[/i], more likely possibility out of his mind. 

The silence returned, only for the sounds of gunfire to replace it mere seconds before the oaken doors leading to the Assembly Hall were forcibly thrown open, splinters of wood flying everywhere and impacting some of the more unfortunate noblemen; Count Lythys included, who happened to be located near the entrance. Guardsmen stationed in the building readied their rifles, steadying their aim the door and moving to cover the only person of true importance in the building, Her Ladyship, the Grand Regent.

As the smoke began to clear, the armored figure of an Ouroboric Knight, the elite cavalrymen of Lithla, could be seen trudging ever so placidly towards the centre of the chamber, accompanied by a platoon of black-clad riflemen, mere footsoldiers of the Lithlan Imperial Army. His face was clear for all to see, a sharp nose and slanted eyes, with a harsh face bearing only the vague hint of a smirk. Truly none this mistake him for any other than Marquis Montares, Field Marshal of the Lithian Imperial Army and Grandmaster of the Ouroboric Knights.

“Grandmaster Montares, what is the meaning of this...[i]transgression[/i]?!” Arrenys shouted, standing up from her seat as her guardsmen pointed their rifles at the intruders, the atmosphere tense. Her words were met with a hearty chuckle, enough to make one forget that a firefight could break out at any moment.

“Putting this country in order, your Ladyship.” The man turned to address the House, speaking with conviction and carrying himself as if he was one of their prestigious lot.

“As you are all no doubt aware, being in the centre of it all. It has been exactly 137 years since the assassination of our beloved Empress Lilith, and almost 137 years since the establishment of this very council. The sacred duty of this...government is to serve the people, like a father guiding their son. Yet a more shocking example of incompetence I have not seen in anything other than this very assembly. Our nation was allowed to be cheated of its due in the Void War, foreign interests continue to undermine this very council, perpetually leaving Lithla in peril!”

He turned to face Arrenys, face sullen despite his impassioned words just a moment prior.

“Words cannot express the pain I feel for the anxiety my actions have caused you. However, Your Ladyship, I beseech you, allow me to cleanse this hall of traitors nesting and purge this government of the malady of corruption plaguing us.” 
She was left speechless, and surprised, even somewhat guilty. Arrenys took a breath, composing herself before speaking in turn.

“I truly regret forcing you into this position through my own incompetence. I will not lie, the current state of our nation is less than ideal. A contrast exists between my vision of the future and the reality before us. Your words are not lost on me, Grandmaster, though none of this redeems me of the responsibility to be accountable for the state of our Empire. As such, there was no need to spill blood on my, or the people’s behalf, yet you have done so regardless. If you truly love our land, and its people…”

“Why have you struck down the people you claim to protect?! I need not exit this building to know that innocent lives have been lost outside its halls!” The Grand Regent tried to suppress the tears slowly flowing down her cheeks as she cried out.

“Can you truly claim they were out of consideration of this nation and its people?” 

“Your Ladyship…” The Marquis murmured, stunned and at a loss of words. “This nation, Lithla, exists in the hearts of its people. As long as the Lithlan people still live, our nation will endure. However, Lithla cannot be reborn without a true leader. An Empress, not a Grand Regent bound by the will of a pack of bickering children. To protect and guide Lithla is to protect and guide its people, you of all people should know that first and foremost.”

Falling to his knees, the armor-clad knight continued.

“Thus I beg of you again, your Ladyship, you alone have the power to save more lives than I could by continuing this sordid affair. There is still a path we can take that absolves both the nation and us of the mistakes we have committed in the past century. We can still finish what this Regency started. I offer you an Obsidian Crown and a Throne to match. Please...for the sake of this nation and its people, accept it, your Ladyship.”


Arrenys tarried a moment, to wipe the tears away and to pull herself together, approaching the kneeling knight.


“The Empress is but a mirror to reflect the will of the nation’s people to the wider world, Montares...But what use is the will of this country when there is no mirror to reflect it? A Regent provides a poor substitute, that is what I think, and I agree with your conviction, despite the different ways we chose to handle this.”

“I...have no choice but to accept. To refuse is to let this Empire slip further into decline by incompetence. For the sake of the nation and its people, I will accept, carrying with me the lessons of this incident, and I…”

“I vow to devote myself, both to the betterment of this country and its people as your Empress. May the Divine above strike me down with righteous fury if I should ever fail in this sacred duty.”