A Bright and Shiny Life

The empress's colour is crimson. Not the blood red I imagined, but something vibrant and vital. Gold is the secondary colour, spread through her attire like strangling vines. Her outfit's form is domineering, but not quite militant. A neckline all the way up at the jaw, pants and long sleeves tight against her body, yet creating a sense of flowing looseness with sparing use of ruffled cloth.

Her crown is a gold diadem with shining gems, four fingers thick in a leaf-like lattice. Seemingly growing from it and tangled through her long red hair are black vines, countering the gold ones of her attire. Upon closer inspection, several of the black vines depart from her hair and snake into her high-necked clothes, bulging under the fabric and wrapping around her neck and down over and around her entire body.

Her face is that of a woman in her thirties, and is a welcoming smile. The moment she sets a foot on the stairs, the introductory wail cuts off with a metallic shriek and everyone straightens from their bows. The space around her seems to distort as she descends, as if under an incredible weight.

"I am pleased by this display of aesthetic sensibility. It is fitting of us, and of the purpose of this gathering." She declares in the expected imperious manner, an impassive voice without strong expression. There's a rustling in the gathering and I see chests swell up in pride, faces holding back tears. Such an emotional reaction to a fanciful way of saying we look good. Though I suppose her statement was slightly more complex than that.

"We begin." She states, and the glittering lights filling the room as if day goes out, as if a snuffed candle. A moment of darkness, then loud clacking scraping sounds from above. It's alarming, but no one else seems disturbed, so I keep calm. A moment later, I see stars above and realize that the massive marble domed ceiling is opening. There's more magic here than just that though, as there's a celestial abundance visible that I have not seen since coming to this city.

Gradually, a ritual array on the floor, not visible before, glows as if reflecting the starlight, giving everyone enough illumination to find their proper places in a circle around the rite.

Talia turns to me and whispers, barely audible, "You know the words we're supposed to say?" Having studied the sent material, I nod. "Good."

Several black robed figures in twisted masks of undomesticated animals step into the glowing circles and place several symbolic objects at various points. The usual (such as fire and incense) are of course present, in addition to various seasonal objects (berries, wheat, bark from various trees, a few pelts and the like) and finally something unique to this ritual – a smooth marble block of stark black and white stone placed in the very centre.

The Empress approaches the block as does a masked figure from the other direction. Upon arriving, the masked figure kneels and presents an athame in the form of a short dagger, glowing faintly as if moonlight.

The Empress takes the dagger, and the chanting begins. First, she scrapes the dagger against the stone, then begins moving outwards in a withershin spiral, which brings her to the various implements which she interacts with – taking one set to another to combine them, stabbing others with the dagger, burning others in the brazier or other acts of that sort. Every time she interacts with a ritual element, the side nearest to it performs the prearranged chant, focusing on seasonal transitions and balance between light and dark. All the while, a vibration grows in the air, gradually making it harder to breathe.

Then, once she reaches the outer perimeter, she slowly spirals back inwards until she reaches the black and white stone block again. The chanting, and the vibration, crescendos as she raises the dagger, then stops with a collective inhale as she slams the dagger into the stone, embedding it to the hilt.

An invisible sense of power washes over the room, followed by stillness. It's one of those rites that nobody is sure exactly what it does, but they know it does something, and that something is good… for them at least. It simply operates on too large of scale – affecting the entire empire – to be able to attribute any given event to it, but there is a change on the statistical level. Crops being better, people healthier, trade winds more favourable – all in general of course, but all significant.

Scraping sounds from above as the ceiling closes again, the lights come back on and the gentle murmur of polite conversation resumes.

Talia sighs in deep contentment, seemingly affected by whatever just happened more deeply than the rest of us. Doubtless her semi-divinity provided a greater connection to her mother's ritual than most in the room. A quick glance around shows that the other Princeps are similarly affected. Talia notices my notice, and gives me an amused smirk.

The empress though, in contrast to her children, and especially the rest of the room, is perfectly still – hand tightly grasping the dagger with bloodless knuckles. A minute passes before she suddenly inhales deeply and lets go. Several others who presumably also have enhanced hearing take note of the gasp, but, seeing that she's quickly recovering, return their attention to their conversations as her attendants assist her over to a throne set up on a platform a third of the way up the stairs.

No one seems to think of the Empress's requiring aid to reach her seat to be worth noting, and so I follow suit in averting my gaze. Something is going on here that they're conspicuously ignoring her weakness… Well, not weakness. If anyone else tried to perform a ritual affecting the entire empire, even subtly, they would doubtlessly be torn asunder along with everyone assisting them. That she could achieve such a feat and only need minor help walking afterwards is a testament to her power, rather than a sign of weakness to be exploited.

Yet for everyone to seem so reasonable about it just doesn't match with how I understand these things usually go. Are they just afraid of seeming to give it import?

Regardless, once she reaches her throne, the shrill wailing sound emits again and silence once again descends over her court after everyone takes new places.

"I am pleased with the efficacy of the ritual. It seems our power is seeping into our new holdings in accordance to plan. As such, we turn to other matters of state." The doors behind us clack open and a half dozen glowering unkempt prisoners in golden chains are led by armed guards through the congregated nobles to stand before the Empress.

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She continues. "Three months ago, we achieved the pacification of the Caethlon region. Many rebel leaders were captured and brought here before us now. I hereby decree that the rebels here are now pardoned." At the word, the golden chains click open and clatter to the floor. "They shall remain here with us to aid me in understanding how to best proceed in their homeland."

Slight murmurs go through the crowd, but gradually the tone shifts to approval.

"We'll never serve you!" a woman of the former prisoners shouts.

The empress regards her briefly. "Your obedience is irrelevant. You shall aid us," she declares, then gestures the guards to move them to the side.

I study them as they go. Do I know any of them? No, I don't think so. They're probably leaders of little importance who never did anything of note. Probably didn't even have proper mages concealing them, and so were left for the mop-up operations with the knowledge that they could be dealt with at any time without risk. The fact that they were captured at all tells me all I need to know about their effectiveness.

The Empress speaks, and everyone silences themselves. "However, there were not just rebels in Caethlon, but those who aided the return to peace as well. Of these, we deem a few to be exemplary in their service to their homeland, and so reward them by elevation to nobility."

As she says this, a group of three much better dressed Caethlians walk through the door unaccompanied by guards. They have a confident gait and smile and… Shit, is that Lindrid? What is he doing here? I thought he was already made a noble. Maybe they need to do this as a formality?

He'll probably recognize me if he sees me. Does the Empress know he was part of the resistance? Has his loyalty shifted after getting what he wanted? Would he blow my cover? Fortunately, my cloak hood being up is already part of my look. Without conspicuous movement, I will the enchantment to better cover my face from his direction. Not that I really need to, as all of them keep their gazes straight ahead at their new sovereign.

He looks good. Healthy. No major changes save for being even more confident than last time. He hasn't gone for any obviously magical attire, but his outfit is still obviously expensive and well-tailored for a sort of sharpness of look. Gold and greens. The design prominently features a pattern of interlocking squares associated with Caethlon but is overwhelmed by Arkothan theming.

All three kneel upon reaching the steps. The Empress, evidently much recovered from the ritual, descends to them and bestows upon them the ornate staves symbolic of noble authority that they will carry when interacting with their subjects in certain contexts. Before handing them over though, they each swear fealty after being anointed with fragrant oil soaked in a cloth tied to the end of each given stick.

They rise, and take their places amongst the crowd, looking around more this time, but Lindrid's gaze passes over me without sign of spotting me. I should be safe for now.

A few more affairs of state are dealt with before the Empress's passive and imperious expression suddenly breaks into a warm, almost soft, smile. "It is time to bestow gifts to my worthy subjects."

She starts with her own children, granting each one a present in order of decreasing age. Several of the gifts are magic items with vaguely symbolic meanings. Others are given territory, artwork or even a litter of chimeric wolf pups. Occasionally, she interrupts the order to give something to one of her children's entourage, though this seems to have prestige implications for the child the receiver is under as well. An expressing of favour without expressing favourites.

Then Talia is called, and she smiles eagerly as she strides towards her mother – making a quick but elegant bow when she reaches. As she goes, attendants wheel out an armour stand covered by a golden cloth.

"It is with heavy heart that I must inform this gathering of ill news," the Empress declares, causing confusion throughout the room, most of all on Talia's face. "We have received news this morning that our long-standing friend and ally, the Principality of Kaldima, has chosen to forsake our relations in favour of our reviled enemy, Hyclion. Moreover, they have added insult to this treachery by taking our ambassador to them hostage. Our response must be swift and total. I order the dispatch of five legions with the goal of punishment or, if the attitude of the surrounding kingdoms prove it feasible, conquest. The commander shall be my beloved and trusted daughter, Talia."

Before her mother even said her name, Talia's face was shifting from confusion to cautious joy. After, it is a beacon of delight. This is clearly the gift that she most hoped for. She straightens then performs a much more militant bow.

"I shall do as you command with an eager heart, mother. The Kaldimen will soon realize their foolishness."

A wave of approval moves through the court. Whether the gathered nobles believe she's the best one for the job, or just wants her far away from them is unclear, but certainly no one seems critical of the Empress's choice.

Empress Celeste smiles warmly at her daughter. "I know you will not disappoint me, Talia. But I have not yet given you your present."

Talia shakes her head. "Your faith in me is all I could possibly wish for mother."

"I know, but I want to give you a token, regardless."

At this, the golden cloth is removed, and I have to hold back my surprise as I recognize the armour beneath.

Empress Celeste turns her attention to the court, "This armour, in addition to its potent enchantments, has received a major blessing by the god Muerin and is said to be invulnerable. It was worn by the rebel Tanyth until she was defeated by the friend of the court, Count Jesica Vithal, who then presented the set to me. I now give it to you to keep you safe during your task."

Talia seems shocked, as does many in the court. "Thank… thankyou, mother. I'll be sure to use it to further the cause of our empire."

The Empress stands and embraces her daughter with a sigh. "It's just to keep you safe. I'm not giving it to you so you'll try to destroy whole armies by yourself – even though I know you probably can. You'll outnumber the Kalidmen significantly, so if I hear about you personally leading any more charges, I'll consider a failing of your leadership ability. I expect great things from you in the future, and this command will help you grow to them."

"…I won't let you down, mother."

The empress smiles again. "I know." Then she says more quietly, but still loud enough for those with enhanced hearing to make out, "Remember though: If you get the sense that Hyclion is trying something, retreat immediately until we can assess. I can't afford to lose you, nor the legions if this is a trap."

Talia nods and makes her way back to her entourage. I catch a few gloating glances from her to some of her siblings, as just the armour is likely the most valuable gift given so far.

Well, good. I'm not particularly grieved at the armour being used by an Arkothan – at least no more than my kingdom as a whole being used by them. Besides, in a fitting twist of fate, this will help me in my goal of remaining unnoticed, as any discussion with Talia will focus on it and her upcoming mission over the minor drama between me and Vincent. I should easily be able to slip through the rest of the celebration without gaining any notice.

"Malichi Monhal." The Empress calls out the name of the next person she wishes to be presented to her, and I freeze in panic. Why did she just say my name?

I give Talia a bewildered look, which she very unhelpfully mirrors. She's as much in the dark about this as I am. She nudges her head in the direction of her mother, the implication clear – get going.

I take a deep breath and step forward. What's the worst that she'll do to me? It's not like she'll kill me herself, right?