[b]The Purple Chamber, Finisrol Palace[/b] [b]Maratilm, Jharya[/b] [b]Yaratilsh[/b] Salos was loath to enter Finisrol, the grand and unrepentant [i]modern[/i] palace at the heart of the capital of Maratilm. A standing edict passed dozens of generations prior decreed that the Emperor's seat ever renew itself, and even now construction crews were at work renovating the south portico. It was ever changing and chaotic, but worst of all it reminded the old Emperor just how far advanced his years truly were, for he now saw nothing in the structure that reminded him of his youth. All was new, and the old had been brushed away. It was fitting then that he took up residence in the Purple Chamber surrounded by the new. Descending upon Maratilm, he had ordered every adult member of the House of Taulros to attend to him in the massive throne room, so that all his heirs may be present and know his will. For it was now his time to do something new, something that only the force of his will could make the more conservative members of his lineage accept. He finished reading aloud from his reply to the Chancellor of the Federation of Nations, and waited for what outrage would come. [hider=Chancellor Alanna Descoix of the Federation of Nations] [@Taeryn] Your concerns are wise, but unneeded. With bluntness of Our own, We tell you now that Our empire already possesses a mockery of democracy. Our Senate is filled with hereditary members, and the wealth requirements to be eligible to sit within it are onerous in the extreme. Such has served Our ancestors and Ourselves well in the past, but the times are changing. No more can one man's will adequately provide for all the needs and longings of Our subjects, and the ways that have long governed Our own kind are foreign and strange to those newly brought into Our domains. How can a son of the League think to stand in Our councils and speak for all those worlds who have heard the name Illusia only in the most recent of years? It is Our hope that as your Emperor Claudius once did, that We shall induct the flower of the colonies into Our assemblies. All being said however, it is Our duty to inform you that your Federation is not the only body which We would request such advice from. It is not Our intent to create here a Federation of Our own, but a democratic state compatible with the legacy of the Divine Taulros. His Imperial Majesty, Salos VI, Imperator Taulrosum [/hider] The Emperor was pleased, though not entirely surprised, to see that there was none. He was by far the oldest person present, for all those of his generation were dead, and a great many of the next two were as well, taken in the fires of the Great War. The eldest present was his own son, Ardisol, who was in agreement with the idea to begin with, and the prince's surviving siblings tended to defer to the peace loving academic. Salos' grandchildren and their descendants would never think to speak against him so publicly, when rebuke was so certain. But still, he knew it was a false peace. One that would only last so long as he lived. "If we are all agreed then, I shall have this sent to the humans for their response," Salos said in a soft voice, scanning the faces of his children, nieces, nephews, and their own children to see who was still inept enough to mask their dissent. He was equal parts pleased and concerned for his succession that none failed. "Father, why are we writing only to the Federation? The Lokoid and the Kadathi sent us messages as well. Surely they, at least the Kadathi, deserve a measure of reply," Ardisol asked, the entire family looking first to him - and then to Salos to gauge his reply. "Oh, my son, it is simple. We do not write to them for we as of yet have nothing of import to say. The Lokoid and the Kadathi respond favorably to our entreaties, yes, but we are not yet in a state to ask anything concrete of them. Worry not however, for should the crisis in the Commonwealth continue, I think we will find ourselves reconvening for such letters to be penned. Now leave me, my children, for I tire." Ardisol tarried as the ranks of the House of Taulros left their lord to his chambers, as was his right as heir to the throne. When only father and son remains, the younger sets himself opposite the older, his wings hanging limp and uselessly from his back. "You insult those who could be friend." "You think me miserly of my affections towards a people who are friendly towards us solely because our atrocities were committed against either their foes, or a comfortable distance away?" Salos asks, but there is no sting in his voice. "I do, father. So long as they only see us as distant conquerors, they will aid us against common foes, but bear us no love." "Perhaps so. Very well. Make ready your household, my son, for there are none who will think as you in my service save for yourself. Travel to Kadath, and see what love you may engender in their hearts." And so he began to write, penning a response to the Crown Princess. [hider=Her Highness, Crown Princess Cerula of the House of Dzijmeter] [@Predawnia] Pray, inform your lord father that I wish him well, and the speedy ending of whatever consumes his time. I write to you this short note to further strengthen our bonds and assure the arrival of a new dawn of peace and prosperity. To such an end, I hereby name the new Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary from the Court of Trydosh to be my eldest surviving children, and heir, Ardisol, Prince-Imperial. I know that he shall be given the warmest of welcomes upon his arrival. His Imperial Majesty, Salos VI of the House of Taulros, 99th Emperor of the Taulron [/hider] [b]Camp Kalando, Imperial Research Base[/b] [b]Outskirts of Point Jakurna[/b] [b]Agdemnar[/b] Janfras Camoll was [i]annoyed[/i], and everyone in the room knew it. The strange communication signature had suddenly vanished as soon as it had appeared, and his own genius - at least, in his words - idea had been for nothing. So it was with equal parts amazement and relief that the comms officer on duty reported that the [i]Commonwealth[/i] wanted a word with the base. In most any other research post, the role of Principal Investigator would go to a scientist with sterling credentials in his or her field of study, respected and cited by peers. For Camp Kalando, this was insufficient. Camoll was all of those things, yes, but more important for his current posting was his first love - xenobiology, and psychology, and linguistics. "The Commonwealth? Unless someone's died the leader of their ground side forces is General Verenkin var Gnaesh, Szitzu. Hard nosed, doesn't take shit, is probably going to hate me. Let's do it. Give them a chirp back and see what they have to say." [b]Remnants of the Asrian Outpost[/b] [b]Agdemnar[/b] Raw power flowed through the Ghostseer's body, the psychic echoes of the dead amplified through him until they could take on a life of their own. Though the force of special operations troops kept a discrete distance, none could escape the unearthly feeling of their wings standing on end, and a sudden chill in their bones. And then the dead walked the earth again, if but for a time. The echoes were legion. Many of them tortured and broken. The flow of psionic energy warped around them like shadows. Only dim lights indicated that they truly were alive and not shade-like automatons. Never the less, the rogue Conflux forces were monstrous even as quickly fading whispers. Amid them, it was not hard to find the revenants of the Asrians. There were no commanders. They had fled after giving the last order to their Thralls. Even though the soulless automatons had no life, there was something of them that stayed behind. An imprint that was only slightly tainted by emotions. The precise orders were quickly fading but their intent was clear: ‘fight until you die’. The coldness by which that demand was given would shock any living creature to its core. It forced one to resign survival. Forsake yourself. Pay with your life. It went against everything being alive but the Thralls were not technically alive. They had given it up willingly and gladly. Some had pulled a Conflux acolyte down with them. The tortured creature’s echo no doubt wrapped around the cold psionic command. But the brightest stars in this fading, incorporeal world of whispers, echoes and dust were those of the fallen Sorcerers. Those great and powerful beings that flung psionic energy. Their echoes were strong and clung to the ground. Unwilling to release themselves. They were clear. Clear enough so the echoes carried more than just faint feelings and psionic imprints. Images and even sound rippled from the blazing psionic nuclei. [b]“Come die before me! I will burn you all down to ash!”[/b] One screamed as he flung empyrean flame at his enemies. Their armor melting as he felt nothing but glee. Which quickly turned to sorrow and coldness. He looked down and saw claws through him. Blood dripping from them. Sorrow was replaced with a vengeance. A clear thought rippled through the echo: [b]"I will take you all with me."[/b] The echo ended with a blazing explosion. Another echo crackled with thunder. Lightning destroyed all in its path as the Sorceress desperately tried to fight off the shadowy enemies. Behind her was a wreckage of a shuttle. Her thoughts were clear. A constant stream. [b]“Sister. Sister. Sister.”[/b] Her sadness was intense. [b]“Why didn't you listen? Why did you get on the shuttle?”[/b] It was the only deviation from her constant chant. Even when Conflux weaponry ripped through her, dooming her to her last moments, she kept repeating her chant. Until she fell unconscious. [b]“I am a Prince of Asra! Come at me! Die at my hand![/b]” Another echo repeated. The Prince’s. His was not arrogant like the first echo. It did not have the intense, dreadful sadness of the second echo. There was rage but also a remarkable other thing: a sense of purpose. The echo made it painfully clear, Nautilian knew he would die. Never the less, at the edge of the abyss the Prince stood and found his place. Lightning burned his enemies. Telekinetic forces crushed armor. His echo’s images were crystal clear as well. Untouched and unsullied. They showed the culprit of the attack and the victims of the Prince clearly: Conflux Troops. Even when the lightning died down and the energy of Nautilian vanished, his resolve never changed. Even when his executioner came at him. Only when claws went through him and he laid on the floor did the echo change and emit one last sound: [b]“Are you happy now, brother?”[/b] The shades of the departed faded away, leaving only the desolate landscape of new made glass behind, and a trembling form kneeling upon the ground. With mechanical efficiency, the retinue of soldiers lifted the Ghostseer away from that place of death, and faded into the darkness of the night as the visions themselves had. [b]Taulron Embassy[/b] [b]City of Andalusia[/b] [b]Corinthene[/b] Larthia Velansa held the envelope in his hands, doing his best to suppress his curiosity at what his Emperor had placed inside his letter of introduction to the Commonwealth's monarch. Two messages had been reposed for him to transmit to the leaders of the Commonwealth upon his arrival at the embassy, but it was that one to their queen that was by far more interesting. A physical letter, dispatched by regular courier, it had arrived some time ago under strict instructions that he must give it personally to Catherine - and that no one must read it save her. The second, far more recent, missive was sent on an emergency courier with no delay and concerned the Durand crisis. There was a great deal of information within those simple facts, and the ambassador smiled as he began to speculate on what his sovereign had planned. The simple matter was that the physical letter was by far the more important of the two, for not only was it penned with such meticulous care, it had also been sent in such a manner to arouse no undue suspicion. While the contents of the second were well secreted, its matter was obvious to all, and the sheer speed with which it was sent would well imply that it contained nothing earth shattering. With both due to be sent, the ambassador endeavored to simply deliver them as one to the Imperial-Queen and her Chancellor. Straightening his cranial crest, he exited the embassy, and began the long journey to the audience chamber of the only monarch whose power challenged his own. His longtime aides simply shook their heads as they made note of the jaunt in his step, for they knew that far from being excited at what he knew he was delivering, Larthia was ecstatic at [i]not[/i] knowing. [hider=Lord Sir Clement Herzog von Metternich, Duke Far Maddow, Knight Indomitus of the Order of King Nikolai, Lord Chancellor of Her Imperial Majesty’s Government] [@Ozerath] We shall not mince words. The crisis on Durand is intolerable, for both Our states. Provincials who know nothing of the broader picture must not be permitted to influence policy in such a horrid fashion, and We are well aware of the issues facing the Commonwealth should the embargo of grains last ere long. To minimize these, We are prepared to open up Our own markets of such vital foodstuffs and persuade Our dear friend the Kadathi to do the same in the name of maintaining peace and order. His Imperial Majesty, Salos VI, Emperor of the Taulron [/hider] [hider=Catherine, by the Grace of the Gods of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen] [@Ozerath] I trust with bountiful hope that my representative to your court will prove most satisfactory. By the time this letter has reached you, he should have already delivered his introductory speech to your Parliament and been credentialed. But it is not Larthia Velansa that I write to you now about. Nor am I here to harangue you over your abrogation of Detente, for such is the way of states. No, there are far more trying matters for us to discuss. As you know, I am old. I near my hundredth year upon my throne, and well am I into the winter of my years. Matters of succession have long circulated in my halls, for it is not a clear thing after the deaths of so many of my sons and daughters - to speak nothing of their own issue. By right, the crown should pass to my oldest surviving child, my son Ardisol. But all know why he does not sleep in eternal peace with his brothers and sisters. He is not a man of war, but a man of learning. Bereft of flight since birth, he has long turned his attention to his studies, and is a wise and reasoned jurist. Many nieces, nephews, and further kin does Ardisol have, and many and more besides will object to his claim upon my death. But I have consulted with the augurs of my own kin, and they have foreseen that Ardisol must take up my crown lest all come to ruination - for both thee and thine. Many actions I have taken to see him secure upon the throne, and this is no different. My sister monarch, I give you now both a mighty weapon and a potent doom. In you I now entrust my instrument of abdication, for I repose into your care the solemn oath that I shall not reign for longer than a century, and my ineffable will that Ardisol serve as my heir. But you I would too name the arbiter of all challenges to my succession, in the hopes that you will take to heart the ill tidings that have been cast should my plans go awry. Take heed and bear witness now: By the Grace of All the Gods and Thundering Parlos Foremost, the Most Noble and Unconquered, We, Salos VI, Pious and Blessed, Emperor of All that was Claimed by Taulros the Great and His Heirs and Those Domains Beyond the Stars Thereunto Belonging, Victor of the Great War, President of the Council of Kings, Foremost of the Imperial Senate, Consul for Life and Dictator in Perpetuity of the Amsivarran Republic, Eternal Archon of the Illusian League, High Priest of Parlos to Whom Everything Belongs, King of Jharya, King of Chersona, King of Pulia, King of Samogol, King of Vitiak, and of All the Eastern Princes Master, Hereditary Sovereign and Ruler of the Mountainous Chieftains and of others, Duke of Howig, of Stovarn, of Volmar, and of other titles beyond retelling here, have hereunto affixed Our seal. [/hider] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Remnants of the Asrian Outpost" was written by [@Legion02] with my thanks.