by Phil Tucker
It was a young man. He wore a plain white robe that was cinched at the waist with a cord of twisted gold. No older than fourteen, surely, but there was something in his quiet confidence, his serenity, that defied categorizing him at any particular age. He was slender, of medium height, and his head was shaved. He had no eyebrows. No eyelashes.
He was the Ascendant, Iskra realized. He could be no one else.
He stepped forward, completely unafraid, and crouched beside Theletos. Smoke was rising from the Virtue, and Iskra pressed her hand to her mouth. Was he dead? No; he groaned, a low, almost pitiable sound. But his skin was singed, there were rings of soot around his eyes, and his swords were warped and ruined.
The Ascendant gazed at Theletos with such sorrow that it smote Iskra's heart. Then he slipped his arms under his Virtue's knees and shoulders and rose with some difficulty to his feet.
It was seeing him stagger that brought Iskra to herself, made her rush forward to help.
"Oh, most brave," the Ascendant said quietly to Theletos. "Most brave and foolish. What have you done?"
Iskra stopped. No one else had moved to interfere. "Your Majesty," she stammered. She could barely speak.
The Ascendant turned to regard her. Was he just a young man, or something more? In that moment, Iskra couldn't have said, even if her life had depended on it.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I – I would speak with you," she said, wishing desperately that she didn't sound so timorous.
"Then accompany me." He turned to walk through her soldiers, who parted for him, their faces slack with awe.
"Thyrrasskia would have it otherwise," Ilina cried out.
Iskra turned in time to see the older woman raise her hand. Black lighting flashed out toward the Ascendant.
The young man didn't even turn. The lighting coruscated around him to no effect, and he walked on, seeming not to even notice. Ilina redoubled her efforts with a cry, and more black fire swept toward the Ascendant, but it failed to come within a yard of him. With a desolate moan of despair Ilina, dropped her arms. Blood was running down her chin.
Iskra's heart was pounding in her chest. In all her studies of history, never had she read of anything akin to this moment. She felt overwhelmed and gestured to her soldiers to stand back, to wait.
Alone, she followed the Ascendant into his palace, all too aware of the corpses, the blood-slicked stone, and the still-unconscious form of Theletos that the Ascendant effortlessly carried through the palace's huge front doors.
They entered the cavernous halls, and only then did a dozen attendants and servants rush forward to take Theletos from the Ascendant's arms. No words were exchanged; they simply carried the unconscious Virtue away. An elderly man with a wooden case in one hand following, clearly concerned.
The Ascendant looked over his shoulder at Iskra and nodded in the direction of a hall. "Come."
Iskra followed the holiest man in the Empire, the man to whom hundreds of thousands raised their prayers, the living embodiment of divinity. She was fully unprepared for this moment, unequal to the task. Had she thought to make demands of him? Negotiate?
Down a hallway they went, passing innumerable doors, and then they walked into a large chamber and out onto a balcony. Iskra barely registered the sumptuous decor as she moved up to a railing beyond which lay nothing but the night. They were thrust out into the very depths of the firmament.
The Ascendant turned to regard her. "You wished to speak with me."
Iskra laughed, a desperate sound. "Yes. Yes, I did. I have moved heaven and earth to get here, and now I find that I don't even know what to say." She bit back a sob, grief suddenly rising up within her. How many had just died? How many were dying in Abythos?
The Ascendant said not a word.
Iskra steadied herself with a hand on the railing. Her breath shuddered in her throat and her diaphragm quivered, but she summoned all her self-control and composed herself. She met the Ascendant's gaze and held it.
"I have brought three thousand men to Aletheia to demand change. I have taken advantage of the Empire's moment of weakness to force you to listen to my pleas. My – my demands. You have to change. The Empire must change. We cannot continue as we have done. While I haven't come to depose you, I have come to ensure that the way we live, the way the Empire is ruled, changes forevermore."
Her words had spilled out in an impassioned rush. Now, she leaned back, heart hammering, and waited, half-terrified.
To her inexorable shock, the Ascendant nodded. "I agree."
"You – what? You agree?"
"Yes." He smiled sadly at her. "I agree."
"But – but you're the Ascendant." She felt as if she were drowning. "How can you agree? The Empire runs as it does because of your existence, your will. You're the very motive that drives every unfair action –"
She spluttered to a stop.
"I am the Ascendant, but I don't control the Empire." Something new entered his expression: a hardening, an anger. "I barely know what transpires below. I only leave the palace when I've been granted permission."
"Permission?" Iskra blinked rapidly. "Whose permission could you need?"
"The Minister of Perfection," the Ascendant said softly.
Iskra managed to refrain from blurting out another question. Instead, she gathered her wits. "You're his prisoner?"
The Ascendant nodded. "As good as."
"But you're the Ascendant. Why not order him away from your side?"
He smiled humorlessly. "And who would obey me? I am surrounded by those loyal to him and his clan."
"Then how are we speaking now?"
"Your invasion has driven him and his clan into hiding. They abandoned the palace moments before your forces arrived. So, in effect, your invasion has proven to be a mission of liberation. And for that, you have my thanks."
"Your thanks." Iskra's voice was a whisper. "You're welcome." A thought occurred to her. "Your Apotheosis, a year from now. That wouldn't have been your decision."
"No," said the Ascendant. "I have already fathered three children. The Minister now desires my removal before I can become even more of a thorn in his side."
Iskra turned to rest both hands on the ornate wrought-iron railing and gazed out into the void. Wisps of cloud passed before a field of stars as she sought to encompass everything that had been revealed to her, to change the very foundations of her world.
She found herself shaking her head. "But you have the Virtues at your command. Hundreds of thousands of faithful followers. I don't understand."
The Ascendant moved to stand beside her. "It is hard to describe the world within which I have lived – the customs, the traditions, that bind me as tightly as any chain. The restrictions, the taboos. Only now am I old enough, wise enough, to finally start opposing the Minister. Everyone around me has always bidden me to obey him. It has taken extensive introspection to reach this mindset I now possess. And with my Apotheosis only a year away, I was beginning to fear my self-awareness was too late."
"But why not tell Theletos and your Virtues? They could have cut down the –" She trailed off when she saw the pity on his face. "What?"
"Do you think all of the Virtues are mine to command?"
"They are not loyal to you?"
"No. It is not their faith in me that keeps them alive, but rather the black potions that the Minister provides them. I fear that at least half of them would stand with him if I were to force the matter."
"And these potions – what are they?"
"I don't know. But they are evil. I know that much."
Iskra felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. "Then, what now?"
"I had hoped you had a plan. You are the conquering hero, after all."
"I – I wanted to talk to you. Force you to agree to change – well – many things. And then, come dawn, have you send a command to the forces at Abythos, letting them know that their world had changed fundamentally overnight."
"Then let us do
so," said the Ascendant. "I will not agree to any demands without considering them, but I am happy to begin the process. First, however, I would ask that we ensure that the Fujiwara are arrested and held prisoner."
"Done. I will give that command. My forces are already tasked with securing their compound."
The Ascendant closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then he lifted his chin and smiled, as if he were savoring the scent of a fine wine. When he opened his eyes, they gleamed as if a thousand stars had fallen into their depths. "You cannot comprehend what joy you have brought me, along with such sweet sorrow. By driving the Fujiwara out, you have changed the Empire already. I shall never let them return. We shall change this Empire of mine, Iskra Kyferin. You and I, together."
Iskra felt an overpowering urge to lower herself to one knee. Instead, she swallowed and laid her hand over her heart. "I have called myself a poor tool more than once of late, and still think of myself as such. But if I can be of any assistance in making these changes, if you are willing to listen to me and my council, if together we can begin to heal the Empire of the injustices and cruelties that have marred its potential, then I will serve at your side for as long as you will have me."
The Ascendant's smile widened, and for a moment Iskra saw the boy in him. "Then come, Lady Kyferin. We have much work to do. A new age is dawning in our land. Let us begin."
THE END
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Copyright © 2016 Phil Tucker
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