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Legacy of War

Page 2

by Nyk Nova


  “General Tare Wollerth of Lugaz?” Kade asked.

  The man only stared up at him in defiance.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Kade continued. “I am prepared to hear your terms of surrender.”

  Tare seethed but remained silent.

  “Your execution is as good as your surrender,” Kade mocked the words.

  Tare took one last moment, staring down the barrel of his own weapon. “Fine.”

  “Formally,” Kade ordered.

  Tare swallowed, already disliking the words he was about to speak. “On behalf of Empress Jer’ren of Lugaz, I General Tare Wollerth do hereby surrender to Osceria!” he yelled for the rest of the Siege Machine to hear.

  The cannon and turrets lowered into a non-firing position and Tare and the other operators of the machine climbed from the hatch. Oscerian troops kept their weapons trained on the enemy combatants as they made their way down. A few looked disheartened at being forced to surrender. Others seemed relieved that the fighting was over and even more-so that they’d survived. Kade could tell those were the younger ones. Those that were never ready for war in the first place. Forced military service was a sad fate of those from Lugaz. But he’d grown to expect nothing less from a tyrannical matriarch. It made him not only proud to be from Osceria but glad. At least there, the choice was his.

  “Did the message go out?” Kade asked an Oscerian troop.

  “Yes, General. Across all bands. Lugaz’s official surrender has been relayed.

  “Good. Now lets get home,” Kade said to an uproar of cheers from those who were eager to be with their families again.

  “General!” a shout came from the crowd. “General Lorenth!’

  Kade turned to see a comms specialist rushing toward him. The troop removed his helmet and was clearly on the young side. Some of the Lugazians looked at him with confusion. Kade knew what they were thinking. Why would anyone sign up for war if they didn’t have to? It was just another part of Oscerian pride. Something Lugazians could never understand.

  “What is it?” Kade asked.

  “It’s the Emperor, sir,” the young specialist said. “He demands your immediate presence at the Capitol.”

  “Demands?” Kade asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  2

  Kade stood on the front steps of the palace in the Capital City of Argus. Thousands cheered at the victory over Lugaz. The streets were flooded with spectators and soldiers alike. Each of them overjoyed at not just the victory but the end of the fighting. Feed screens were displayed prominently through out the city for those who could not be at the palace for the final war announcement.

  “For too long, we have been in confrontation with our enemy,” an older man in red, white and gold robes spoke. His collar rose to cover the back of his head and on his head sat a band. The crown of Osceria shone in a brilliant silver. “For too long has fighting between ourselves and Lugaz taken place. But now, it is with great pleasure that in my lifetime, have I seen an end to it all.”

  The crowd roared even louder.

  “My only hope is that it lasts so that my very children may never again know the horrors endured by our most brave world sharers. It is to you, courageous soldiers of Osceria that we pledge our undying devotion. That we may continue as we have long since the days of my ancestor, Aurtune Argus.”

  A pretty young woman shed a single tear of joy.

  The older man stepped beside her and wiped the tear away.”It is of both sorrow and joy, is it not? My dear Arista.”

  “Yes, father,” she said.

  He looked to the young man standing next to her. He had a hardened look about him. It was a sternness that grew from underneath.

  “Sorrow for those we lost,” the man went on. “And joy for those still with us. You would agree, Pan?”

  Pan stood for a moment, pondering not the words but whether or not he should answer. He resigned himself to the second choice. “Yes, father.”

  The older man walked past his children and approached Kade with a smile and a heartfelt hand on the shoulder.

  “When you demanded, sire, I thought you were angry with me,” Kade whispered.

  “To the general who led us to victory? Is such a thing possible?”

  “These days?”

  The older man smirked. “Just trying to put fear into the victor over Lugaz.” He turned back to the crowd. “Let us remember those who fell in this terrible war. That they may never be forgotten. But let us celebrate those who are still with us. That they may always be looked upon with reverence and awe. With that said,” he pulled out a medal. “Let us give special commendation to those whose exceptional service led our people to the victory we acknowledge today.” He turned back to Kade. “It is with great pleasure that I, Dom Argus, Emperor of Osceria, present General Kade’Tor Lorenth with the highest of military awards. The First Sigil.” He placed the medal around Kade’s neck.

  The crowd stayed silent awaiting the next words.

  “And now,” Argus continued. “As is customary. The final words of battle. Spoken only from one who was there.”

  Kade looked out at the crowd then at Pan and Arista. Pan’s eyes bored holes into Kade. It was an expression that was difficult to read and easily taken as hostile under other circumstances. The look he got from Arista was anything but hostile. She averted her eyes and her cheeks flushed. Kade tried to hide his smile, not wanting the whole of Osceria to see.

  The General turned back out to the crowd. “I do not accept the First Sigil as an individual. But as a representative of the whole. It is from the whole that I am even standing here. My life exists not because of those I led. But because of those that stood beside me. Whether it was among the stars or on the ground. We fought the same battle, each one of us.” He gently took the medal from around his neck and held it in his hands. “We all lifted and stood on each other’s back. The victory was from Oscerians, for Oscerians!” His arm shot into the air, holding the medal as high as he could.

  The cheers of the crowd were enough to shudder the glass of the windows above. Hover vehicles were rocked back and forth as those who stood atop them jumped and hollered in celebration.

  Arista laughed at the silliness of the sight. Pan sneered at it.

  “Such a disgrace,” Pan said.

  “Why are you so moody, brother?” Arista asked. “The war is over. This is a time for celebration.”

  “Must we go damaging the property of others to celebrate?”

  “Do you see anyone complaining about it?”

  “If it were my property, I most certainly would.”

  “File a grievance with the Administration Guild, later. For now, try to smile.”

  Pan turned to her and gave as best a smile as he could. It was good enough for Arista who returned to watching the joyous crowd.

  “Live freely, Oscerians!” Dom yelled out.

  The crowd echoed his words amongst each other.

  Dom Argus turned away from the crowd “And now, General, the unofficial reason for your summoning.”

  Kade cocked his head, puzzled at the Emperor’s meaning. Pan’s eyes shot toward the two of them, suspicious of whatever it was his father had in mind for Kade.

  Dom led Kade back into the palace. The hallway was adorned with shimmering banners, each one with a different Emperor on it. Kade paid little attention to the images on the fabrics. His notice was only caught as each one gently blew in the breeze that filtered through the open doorway. Pan and Arista followed well behind the two as their father conducted whatever business he had with the general.

  “Now that the war is over, have you thought on your plans for the future?” Dom asked.

  “Application for Emgaurd.”

  Dom laughed. “Emgaurd? You take over a Lugazian Siege Machine after facing down an enemy army and you want to stand guard here in the palace?”

  “Its been a dream of mine since childhood. It’s why I joined the military. Well—among other reasons.”
r />   “You care about Osceria so much, Kade’Tor Lorenth. You could make great strides if you found yourself in an official position.”

  “Official position?” Kade asked.

  Dom stopped in front of one of the banners and stared at it. On the silken fabric was the visage of a stern looking man, full bearded with a sword in his hand and holding an expression of absolute command. Kade glanced back at Pan, comparing the two.

  “It’s the eyes,” Dom said. A hereditary trait of the Argus bloodline. The Emperor Lineage Archivists say that trait passes through multiple generations before showing itself again. The boy has his eyes. I’m afraid he has his demeanor as well. Great Grandfather Aurtune Argus, twelfth Emperor of Osceria.”

  “He was your—“

  “Five generations back. First Argus to be Emperor. Also the first to set up declarations of the bloodline. Aurtune thought it best if the Mantle of Emperor was passed down through one family. A thing that up until his rule had always been decided upon by the Emperor. How much of royal study have you done, Kade?”

  “Enough to know the Emperor is chosen by the last sovereign.”

  “Precisely. Aurtune could not change that ruling, despite his attempts. His only way to subvert that rule was to convince his own sons to continue his new tradition.”

  “That led to the Argus Civil War.”

  Dom nodded his head. “A risky maneuver to have so many children. Riskier to have so many wives. Aurtune was obsessed with the strong surviving.”

  “Aurtune the second succeeded him.”

  “Only after he’d killed his other brothers. After that it was the line of Argus as Emperor Permanerea.”

  “Why do you tell me this, sire?”

  Dom glanced back at Pan and Arista, his brow furrowed as he returned to Kade. “The girl has shown little interest in politics. And the boy is too volatile and…” He paused to search for the right word. “Ambitious. However, he has never stepped foot onto a battle field.”

  “Aren’t those good traits?”

  “For a citizen, yes. For an Emperor?” Dom began to walk again, leaving the stern glare of Aurtune Argus behind him. Pan and Arista continued to follow but maintained their distance.

  “What do you think he’s telling him?” Pan asked.

  “Probably just lauding his victory over Lugaz. Stop being so uptight.”

  “Something is going on. Something that’s not good for the rest of Osceria.”

  “Father has nothing but good intentions for our world.”

  “As do I and when I’m Emperor—“

  “What makes you think he’ll pass the Mantle to you?”

  “That’s how it’s always been. Only a son of Argus gets to be Emperor.”

  “Maybe this time will be different,” Arista said with smirk.

  “This world needs to be led by both,” Dom continued. “Someone who understands the citizens and their needs, and someone who knows when to take a heavy hand. Arista knows the first, Pan knows the second. If they were one, they would be a perfect candidate. Sadly they are not and neither knows both. But you…”

  “Emperor?” Kade asked, unsure he liked where the conversation was going.

  “You understand these things. And after five generations of Argus’s as Emperor, I think it’s time Osceria went back to certain old ways.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kade said.

  “I think you do, General. You want to be an Emguard but I think you would do better as an Emperor.”

  “Me as Emperor?” Kade blurted.

  Pan’s eyes went wide and his mouth turned down. Arista’s eyes went wide as well but instead of a frown, she tried to hold back a smile. The young woman took one look at her brother and instantly changed expressions. Her eyes glanced down at his hand. His fist clenched, knuckles white from tension.

  “Pan, why?”

  Her brother stormed forward and much to Arista’s relief passed her father and Kade.

  “Pan!” she yelled, following after him, hoping to calm his mood.

  Dom sighed and shook his head. “What do you say, my boy? Will you take up the Mantle?”

  Kade watched the young Argus, knowing he must have heard and what it could all mean to one who was certain it would be passed on to him.

  “It is best for Osceria,” Dom assured Kade.

  “I don’t know what will happen.”

  “None ever do.”

  Kade hesitated for a moment then smiled. “Then if it is for Osceria, I accept.”

  “Wonderful. I will begin preparations immediately. You’re going to make a fine Emperor and do our world proud.”

  The doors to the hallway slammed shut.

  “I think the boy heard us,” Dom said.

  3

  A heavy goblet flew through the air, passing right through the holo-candle on the wall before slamming into the wall. As the cup hit the floor, Arista crept into the study.

  “Pan, you can’t—“

  “I can! I do! The Mantle of Emperor has always gone to a son of Argus! You tell me I can’t? I say, he can’t. It is the law of Emperors!”

  “It is hardly law, Pan.”

  “What would you know about it? When have you studied a thing that was never yours to begin with?”

  Arista held her temper at the obvious insult. She understood why her brother was so angry about the matter and so gave him the benefit of the doubt as she sat on the couch in the center of the room. “Officially, Pan, “she said as calmly as possible. “It was never yours either.”

  Her brother shot her a menacing glare but Arista shrugged it off. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at her like that and he’d never laid a hand on her. His threatening stares were little cause of concern for her.

  “Don’t be cross with me. I meant no insult by it. The Mantle passing to our family was an Argus tradition. Not an Oscerian one. I’m sorry that it means so much to you. But father never promised it to either of us.”

  “The family line—“

  “Still exists. And it can still be in the palace again, one day. And I’m sure that when Kade is Emperor—“

  “A thing you would love, I’ve no doubt,” Pan’s voice held much hostility.

  “And why would I love it?”

  “You think I don’t see it? The whole palace sees it, Arista. You and your little crush on General Kade’Tor Lorenth. The Mantle going to him would make you Empress wouldn’t it? How you’ve dreamed of the day.”

  “I’ve given no thought to rule, dear brother.” Now her voice held venom in it. “I only want what is best for our people. If that is Kade then so be it. Father can see that. Why can’t you? Or are you really so much like our ancestor Aurtune Argus that your ambition blinds you to the greater good?”

  Her words seemed to calm Pan, slightly.

  “And you overstep, implying I have any such affections for anyone. It would be none of your business nor the business of the palace even if I did.”

  “Forgive me, sister,” Pan said in as calm a manner as he could muster.

  Arista could tell the displeasure was still there.

  “You’re right,” he went on. “Accept my apologies.”

  “Gladly,” Arista said, walking toward him. She put an arm around her brother and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I love you and I love Osceria. Never forget that.”

  “Of course. And I’m sure that Kade’Tor Lorenth will make an excellent Emperor. And you his Empress should he decide to take you as such.”

  She punched his arm. “Oh, you!”

  “Maybe you should be the next General if you hit that hard.”

  She walked toward the door. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Pan smiled as he watched her leave. Once the door closed, all joy went out from his eyes and he turned back to the wall. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough,” a voice said. A shape emerged and a section of the white marble wall changed to a black cloak as the figure moved farther away from it
. “Your senses are improving. There was a time you never knew of my presence.” The hood over the cloaked figure obscured its features but it moved with a regal demeanor that even Dom Argus did not seem to have. “But I am less interested in the news of the general as Emperor—shocking as it is— and more interested in your plans for it. Judging by your expression, it is clear you have little intention of honoring your sister’s wishes.”

  “What can I do? If that is what father wants then—“

  “Then perhaps a change should be made before the Emperor gets what he wants.”

  “Explain,” Pan ordered.

  The figure held his hand out, his nails were immaculate on the grey hand they were attached to. A single hair rose from the floor toward the cloaked figure’s hand. With two fingers, he gently grabbed the hair. It went limp as he held it with such gentility. Pan watched as the hood turned toward the door.

  “She has grown into such a lovely young woman,” the figure said.

  “What do you want, Eran?”

  The figure opened both of his arms wide and bowed toward Pan. “Only to serve the Emperor of Osceria,” he said with a mischievous tone.

  4

  Eran stood in the empty hall of the palace, his only company were the stone floors and the holo-lights that ran across the ceiling. The lights cast an electric blue throughout the hallway, giving everything an energized luminance.

  The steel door in front of the sorcerer was unlike any other in the palace, save for the mighty oak doors to the throne room. Eran’s knuckles went white as he clenched his fist. He took a single breath, calming himself. As a practitioner of magic, being in the presence of technology made him uncomfortable. It was a source of power he did not understand. But more than that, he believed that the trapping of energies inside of artificial constructs was inferior and an affront to the older ways. The inefficient machines only utilized portions of the planets resources. And worst of all, there was a severe lack of return or sacrifice for the machinations to work. Magic has costs, risks, its use must mean something. The Sorcerer’s Guild understood that. The Administrative Guild— with its dependence on technology— did not. As far as Eran was concerned, they were greedy and wanted everything for free.

 

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