After walking through a few short corridors, Priscilla entered a dining hall where her group indulged in a feast prepared by the Parthians. The table was filled to the edge with various dishes of meat and vegetables and pastries of all colors and sizes.

  Seeing the state of them—especially Jensen, who was gorging himself on handfuls of meat, Priscilla couldn't help but laugh. "Enjoying yourselves, are we?"

  Jensen glanced over with a meaty bone, cradling his lips, "Oh, Our Lady is here! Come. Join us! The food's damn amazing here!"

  "Sure, sure," Priscilla replied, taking a seat with the rest of them.

  "What happened after we split up?" Priscilla asked as a servant filled her goblet with a pale liquid.

  Jensen swallowed his fill and replied, "We got to Sunstone Pass, and the empire's dogs were fighting with the sand people. We hopped into the fight, and once everything was done, they brought us over. No harm done. They were hostile but merely a false show, so we wouldn't fight back."

  "Were they demons?"

  "We're not sure. The soldiers never changed. It might've been to not arouse suspicion. Or they were just sacrificial pieces that were still human." Jensen shrugged.

  "I doubt we've seen the last of them. If they were just sacrifices, then more will come," Vera sighed.

  "That's alright," Priscilla huffed before taking a drink of the pale ale. "I've talked to the matriarch about working together, so whatever they bring, we'll be ready."

  "I don't believe she'll reject being allies, considering what she knows. This way, both sides will be more confident against the numbers the demons have."

  "So, we're stuck until then?"

  "Seems so. No point leaving until we get an answer. We may as well see the sights and return to the empire later with confidence." Priscilla shrugged.

  Several hours later, Priscilla and her group left with one of the warriors who served as their watcher. They walked through the streets, bustling with life and the splendor of their people. Vendors spread across the roads, shilling foods and wares. Children frolicked playfully with the giggling of youth untainted, and adults watched over them, enjoying the warm touch of starlight.

  The kingdom was beautiful in a way that vastly differed from the bordering Ellis Empire. There was an innocence that breezed through the air. Something like a freedom that the high society of the empire could never achieve. Even funnier was that the Parthians had a tolerance for the imperial men and women that they would never receive in the empire. They traded with the imperial merchants, accepted gild and solv as if it were their own currency, and had an open mind toward visitors.

  For Priscilla's group, this was a liberating feeling. Despite their watcher's vigilant eye, they didn't feel the anxiousness one might face in the same conditions.

  It was Jensen who decided to break the peaceful stroll's calm as he gnashed his teeth, "Barbarians! Some barbarians they are, huh? Damned empire with their deceitful ways."

  "Are you surprised, Jens? You're more naive than you look if you had that much faith in the nobility." Vera clapped back.

  "Bah. I know the nobles aren't worth their weight in shit, but they've really outdone themselves with this slander."

  "Time remembers all, but it's the people—that can paint the tapestry in our hands," Priscilla sighed. "No matter how things were once, the empire won and wrote the history they wanted. No matter what kind of life the Parthians live now—or what they lived before, it's all sand in the history books."

  "It's just a shame," Jensen muttered. "If I meet the emperor, I'd love to give him some thoughtful words." He spat, causing a few wandering stares to turn his way.

  "I doubt you'll get a chance to do that, Jens." Priscilla laughed. "Not soon, at least."

  ...

  As the star above began to set, Priscilla's group returned to the palace and met with the matriarch, who awaited their return.

  Sharazz stood gracefully and beckoned for Priscilla to come with her alone.

  "I've thought about your proposal, little witch," Sharazz said as she stepped toward the upper balcony of the palace with Priscilla in tow. "I'll accept under one condition. I will need you to meet with the source of our people. If you get her approval, we'll cooperate against all odds."

  "I have no reason to trust you just yet. Even if your intentions may be pure, I have no way of knowing that for certain. I won't offer my people up for uncertainties. Only with the source's blessing will it work."

  "You're reasonable, matriarch. I have no problems with meeting with your elder." Priscilla replied.

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  "Not an elder, but our source. You'll understand when you get there, little witch. We'll head there tomorrow. You can rest tonight, and I'll have someone summon you in the morning."

  "Okay, matriarch. I'll see you then." Priscilla nodded and left back to her group.

  In an isolated location kept far from the hustle and bustle of the Ellis Empire, within a tall and dreary castle sheltered between a crescent-shaped cliffside, a group of people met in secrecy within one of its expansive chambers. The group sat down around a large blackened table, staring toward one larger seat where a man quietly meditated.

  "Divine Apostle, why have you summoned us?" A tall figure cowled in a gold-lined black cloak asked. His face was obscured, but his words contained a pleasantness that wafted through the air.

  The meditating man sat in silence before finally reaching his hands up and pulling his cowl down, revealing a withered body devoid of fluids. His shut eyes snapped open, causing a tempestuous surge of light and energy to flash across the room's walls.

  "The dying star's embers flicker in the night," The Apostle's voice creaked with an inhumane timbre that slammed against the walls as if the sound came from everywhere all at once. "The black butterfly flaps its broken wings. A meager attempt at deceiving the all-seeing eye of the mighty and wise ruler. But why, my children. Why do the embers burn when they were meant to be snuffed out? Why do the broken wings flap when they were meant to be cut off at the root?"

  "I don't understand, Divine Apostle." The man replied.

  The Apostle's body swelled as the energy within erupted, slamming against the chamber and raising the dust inside. His voice echoed alongside it, "Your tasks throughout the years have been as simple as the menial labor of paupers, yet you've failed. You've failed me—you've failed the Divine Ruler. Have you not eliminated all the seeds as you were told? Why does the witch's spawn still pervade the empire?"

  The cowled man silenced and crossed his arms as he reclined back in his seat.

  After a minute of contemplation, the man spoke, "It shouldn't be, Divine Apostle. We found all a thousand seeds and buried them. We burned the innocent and bled the slums until nothing remained. It's not possible that a child could have survived all of that without help."

  "Not enough," The Apostle's voice chimed against the walls. "The millennium is approaching, and the Divine Ruler's confinement nears the end. Excuses will not be tolerated. Banshee will leave now to go for the sand and help Arrogance. And you, head for the empire. There will be no further mistakes." The Apostle commanded.

  "Yes, we shall obey!" The man responded, joined by another figure that rose up from their seat.

  "Very well, dismiss," The Apostle said before he shut his eyes—a surge of wind roiled through the room, and cracks formed in the space behind him as his form faded and vanished.

  ...

  The swirling undercurrents continued to rage throughout the empire without an end in sight. People suffered, destined to be no more than sacrificial fodder.

  Within the imperial city, the tension was at an all-time pinnacle. The emperor had gone mad and turned into an indomitable beast that ravaged his lands. He sent his troops parading through the streets, wreaking carnage at every corner without so much as a warning or shred of reason. The soldiers obediently followed, yet not all of the soldiers.

  Those who disobeyed went away and joined the disgruntled noble families that cursed and spat at the emperor's sudden depravity and proclivity for violence.

  Soldiers marched with their blades drawn. Homes lay in ruin as their doors splintered and men barged in. And the dread in the air was a constant hammering, tampering the most durable steel, merely waiting for it to bend and break under its mighty pressure.

  The millennium drew ever near, and the flames were burning ever brighter.

  ...

  Outside the imperial city, away from the madness, two men rushed across the trodden path alongside two women and several children. The youngest babes nestled close in the women's arms while the more abled children clung to the hems of their dresses and trudged along.

  Exasperated breaths cut through the air, drawing a cold sweat from the men whose eyes prowled vigilantly through the surrounding stretch of land.

  "Hold your voice, Sophia!" Elrick chided, his voice a mixture of seriousness and affection. "We're nearly past the convoy's monitoring area. Just brave it for a little bit longer!"

  "You too, Fiona. Please, just a little more." Davies parroted the sentiment as he turned to his wife.

  The women silently nodded, their faces hugged close to the bundles in their arms that wrapped snugly around their babes.

  They continued onward, each step firm in the ground as if they had the weight of boulders on their shoulders. The crackling crunch of a branch sounded to the side, and Elrick flung a dagger forcefully without a sign of warning. Starting a lurking rabbit that was passing by. His other hand was white as it clenched his blade.

  Further along, the path began to widen. The end was nearing, yet the tension only increased tenfold. Davies slowed his steps down, moving toward the back of the group. The children squirmed, weariness setting in heavily, but there was no time for it. Davies scanned the back with a watchful eye while Elrick pulled the front. 'Just a little further. . .' Both men thought.

  But their hopes were cut short as the raging beat of horse hooves flooded the space, and a convoy of soldiers unfurled from the intersecting path. A dozen soldiers quickly amassed before the two families. Their faces were a derelict congregation of scowls and furrowed brows.

  "Elrick Cartham and Davies Rovnik," One of the soldiers dictated as he jumped off his horse and walked toward the two men. "You have abandoned your positions and are caught in the act of treason. How do you plead?"

  "What treason? We're just escorting our families to the south," Elrick spat. His brusque voice snapped toward the soldier. "Why are you filthy dogs getting in our way, Kearon? Don't you have some innocent peasants to cut down in the slums?"

  "That's funny, Elrick. Aren't you a dog calling others a dog when you're running with your tail between your legs? Is it because you're upset that Duke Valentine abandoned you and His Majesty wouldn't take a stray like you?"

  Elrick drew his blade and tightened his grip around it, "Bastard. Are you going to scram, or are you begging for a duel?"

  Kearon walked forth a few more steps and waved his blade mockingly. "A duel? With you, Elrick? Now, why would I waste time with such a stupid thing?"

  The man flashed a cruel smile before gesturing with his other hand. "Get them! For the empire!"