"The churches have gone silent." Ellismera told her daughter quietly, then slowly sipped of her tier 3 Tenusian tea. Her thin, warm lips parted perfectly to gently kiss the rim of the porcelain tea cup. Her silky black long hair was done up crisply, each hair in its place because none would be brave enough to slip free.

  "I had not noticed. In what way have they gone silent?" Ellisandra asked, her pale hands primly folded in her lap, her deceptively muscular legs properly tucked, and her back perfectly straight. She wore an elegant blue gown with silver lace to accentuate her silver hair and ice-white eyes. She wore an complimentary white sash around her thin waist, highlighting her athletic figure.

  "The gods accept people into their temples…but once inside, it is empty. Bereft of priest, and clergy."

  Ellismera paused, giving her daughter time to think, time to see the conundrum.

  Ellismera took that moment carefully to study her daughter - how she had grown so much in the last century. This might be the last time that her little family was at peace, the last time she might have the chance to cast her daughter's visage into her iron memory.

  Her face carried a hereditary porcelain delicacy, smooth and pale, as though it caught and held light rather than reflected it. Wide, luminous eyes dominated her features - large, almond-shaped, and a pale, almost glassy white that made her gaze seem perpetually on the verge of wonder. Her father's colour and Ellisandra's shape, a beautiful and stark combination that reminded Ellisandra of the miracle she and her husband had created. Long lashes framed those orbs of snow, giving her anxious expression an intensity that could shift from innocent to unsettlingly sharp with the smallest flicker of emotion.

  Her cheekbones sat high and pronounced, softening into rounded, youthful cheeks that lent her an almost storybook beauty were it not for the faint scars and blemishes of combat. A fine, narrow nose she had gotten from Ellismera's own mother ran straight down the center of her face, unassuming yet elegant, balancing her features rather than commanding them.

  Her lips were full and sculpted, the natural curve of her mouth giving the impression of a secret she might share if she trusted you enough. When she smiled, it was wide and luminous, reshaping her face with warmth and kindness.

  A soft jawline flowed into a slender neck, and her silver hair - when loose - framed her face like silver on snow, often falling in soft waves that heightened her ethereal countenance. There was something both fragile and intense about her - a look that Ellisandra would never admit that she shared with her mother.

  The smell of jasmine gently permeated the air, and her tier 5 chinchilla-wool-stuffed slippers warmly hugged her feet. Supreme comfort.

  "What happened?" Ellisandra was her mother's daughter, calculated and insightful. Unfortunately, she was born with her father's patience and none of her mothers tact. She also shared his somewhat square-tipped nose, typically a male feature, that actually enhanced the elegant curves of her brows.

  "That is the incorrect question, daughter."

  The reprimand was veiled, yet her mother's cold cerulean eyes told a story of disappointment. Ellisandra took a deep breath and peacefully sipped at her scalding hot tea, not showing that she had burned her tongue.

  "What you should be asking is: where did they go? The clergy are powerful spiritual cultivators, if they had gone somewhere unwillingly, then we would have heard their battle from here. This means what?"

  Ellismera led her daughter, trying to instill the sense of politics that she would soon need.

  She gracefully folded her hands, her middle finger adorned with an intricately carved tier 7 silver marriage band. Her athletic arms were covered in a gown of purest snow and blue diamonds.

  "It means they left voluntarily. And if it was only one church, we could have reasoned that an archbishop had gone rogue again. The fact that all the churches left means that…the pantheon made a decision, as a collective...which means the gods are acting directly..."

  Ellisandra's eyes widened and her face paled to match her eyes in hue.

  Ellismera saw her daughter realise the enormity of this event. "Something big enough to impact all of Volun is coming. What is our next step?"

  She sought to shift her daughter's mind from unknown fear to actionable decisions.

  She started to lightly slouch, her fear for the future physically weighing her shoulders down and-

  "Posture!" her mother snapped.

  Discipline instilled over decades snapped her head up and her shoulders back, "Yes mother."

  Ellisandra's indoctrination, and she was intelligent and educated enough to understand that she had been indoctrinated by her mother, nevertheless helped her focus her mind and consider the question. A muscle just under her right shoulder blade twitched at the firm posture, though.

  "We must petition the Emperor for a premature tier cap increase. We must start rationing Leaves, and storing food as if an extended beast surge is going to occur. And I must train..." She trailed off again, her thoughts consumed by the training she had to do.

  "Adequate first response, but missing one crucial mechanism."

  She raised her brows in expectation, taking another sip of the delicious tea.

  "Oh-um-"

  "Do not verbally show uncertainty. If you are floundering, rather keep silent."

  Another sharp crack of the voice, another lash of failure across her back.

  "Yes, mother..."

  The silence prolonged until a very displeased voice said, "I see."

  Ellisandra, even though she was looking dead ahead at the window outside, could feel the disgust in her mother's assessing gaze.

  "We must tell your father." she finally relented, and took pity on her daughter.

  She had tried her best to lecture her daughter about politics and logic, but Ellisandra, bless her soul, was too much like her father. She felt every feeling stronger than most, she was brash, impulsive, and had the temperament of a tiger. All qualities she loved in her husband and daughter, of course, but she had hoped for a daughter who could take up the Ice-fiend legacy. She had long since accepted her daughter for how she is, but that did not mean she would not push her harder than anyone else.

  "Your father is the city lord. He knows the most about the state of his citizens, he knows what is possible and what is not. You are incapable of doing anything on your list without his permission."

  Ellisandra bowed her head, her heart torn in two, acid burning her stomach at her own incompetence. She had failed her mother, yet again. Her mother said nothing to console her because nothing she said could take away her own acknowledgement of the failure. Her mother was the Ellismera, the woman who had single handedly saved the entire Ellis line from becoming Hobereaux. She aspired to follow in her footsteps, but was constantly falling short.

  For all her strictness and expectation of perfection, Ellismera was nevertheless a kind woman. She sighed once again because she knew that while she was hard on her daughter, Ellisandra was even harder on herself.

  Ellismera quietly rose and rounded the table.

  “Oh my daughter.” She gently cupped her face, Ellisandra's eyes were filled with uncertainty, fretting at the future and fear of what it may do to her family. Ellismera saw all this and hugged her daughter with all the love she could muster…because those were the fears she felt herself.

  -

  “Next on the docket?” His voice spoke with authority because he was a man who expected immediate capitulation. His voice was deep and brooked no dissent, yet it was fair; absent any gruff gravel. It spoke clearly and wisely, each word chosen with care. Each inflection conveyed the intent of a monarch.

  “Volun has petitioned for an early cap increase, your majesty.”

  Lord Buxcomb related from behind and to the right of his majesty Emperor Galain. He was responsible for scribing the meeting as well as the itinerary for what was to be discussed.

  The room smelled of a rare incense found only within a forest on a distant branch. It smelled reminiscent of cherry tobacco, but had a slight undertone of cinnamon and chamomile. It was Galain’s favourite, and he regularly burned it on stressful days. No one knew he was the one who chose which incense to burn in their meetings, but it was one of his hobbies.

  Galain did not hum in thought as he wanted to; eloquence and masterful speech craft was expected from a great monarch, and he would never be anything but the best emperor he could be.

  So, instead, he nodded and looked to the seat immediately to his right.

  Galain himself sat at the head of a long Ebonwood table, while his chief of protocol, Lord Avery, sat four seats down the right.

  The table's texture was smooth and lacquered, polished to a perfection that lasted even five hundred years later. He did not need to prompt the man to speak because they had done this dance countless times before.

  “Lord Margrave is a clever man, he likely noticed the disappearance of his priests and made the logical conclusion. But we must also not discount the possibility that he could be using this as an excuse to secure his family’s position against Curt Marryvale. The third son of Andrews Marryvale is showing interest in the Ellis family holdings, and is viewing them as weak…vulnerable. Now, while this is a reasonable request to grant in the face of such uncertainty, it could show the other factions that we view Margrave favourably, and might mark him as a target. In either case I would not begrudge him this request, he wants to keep his family safe. I must nevertheless verify his motives.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Gods knew this wouldn't be the first lord that was cursed, possessed, or body swapped and made a request for more resources -- Galain thought.

  It was standard Imperial practice to ascertain the motives, and nature, of the lord asking for a level cap increase.

  “Callum Lichbane, I hope that we can rely on your skills in this matter?”

  “It would be my honour, your majesty.”

  Callum had wondered why he was commanded to attend this meeting. He was climbing rapidly within the ranks of Avrrest court-intrigue, but was nowhere near a meeting of this calibre.

  A meeting with the emperor?! – Never in his life would he have imagined this situation.

  “I am rather fond of Lord Margrave, so be sure to be thorough and objective. Volun is the Empire’s next expansion point and we do not want diplomatic tensions.”

  Galain nodded to Callum, and slightly turned his head to the right so as to prompt Lord Buxcomb for the next item on the docket.

  “Speaking of the Empire’s next expansion point, it has come to our attention that Lazfeld has gone silent. Prince Richard has more information, Emperor.” Buxcomb’s manner was ever formal and concise, as he unrolled crisp bamboo scrolls and read the report therein.

  His first born son, the biggest point of pride in his life, Richard Shadow, spoke up to elaborate with his deep and strong voice.

  In a few more centuries Galain would voluntarily step down and abdicate the throne to Richard, because he had no doubt he would make a fine ruler. Very few people outside of this room knew of Richard’s true profession, and it would stay that way, because... Richard Shadow was one of the most loved political spies in the Empire. Everyone assumed him to be a loving, caring, and endlessly smiling warrior of gallantry. They would be correct. Richard is all of those things, but he is also so much more.

  “I installed an employee in the kingdom upon my last visit to their fair country. They were close enough to the royal family that they should have been protected from anything less than a major calamity.”

  No one was so unprofessional as to gasp at the terrible insinuation, but there were many slightly widened eyes. Galain had, of course, already been briefed so could measure the reactions of his trusted advisors in peace.

  “Yes…we suspect that the capital, if not the entire kingdom, has fallen.”

  “Fuck. First the script-pushers, now an entire kingdom?! What. Is. Happening!?”

  General Gagan, physically the largest person in the room, looked at those seated at the top floor of Avrrest Castle for answers. Because this was the first he was hearing of it; he was the Head of Military Household for Avrrest and for him not to be informed spoke firstly: of an unacceptable break in communication. Then secondly: of political fuckery that he simply would not tolerate.

  Galain understood his perspective, and it was typical for him to be forceful when calling out others' incompetence. He could still be trusted.

  After Gagan’s very tense question, the stale seeming air got flowing again when Arch Mage Goveer sighed heavily, “Relax, Gagan.”

  Gagan shot him a scathing look but he needn't have bothered because Goveer didn't give a fuck. That's why Galain liked him. “This is the communication, we are being briefed before anyone else, no one is cutting you out.”

  “I'll cut you out.” He growled but made no move for the giant zweihander leaning against the table.

  They had been bickering since they've been appointed, but it had gradually become an endearing feature of Galain’s political strategy meetings.

  “Goveer, do you have any inclination as to the events spoken of?” Galain calmly guided them back on topic, while suppressing a grin.

  Goveer sighed heavily and leaned onto his right elbow while rubbing his forehead, “It is…complicated. I have attempted to contact the gods directly but was unsuccessful. I then tried…other…methods.”

  He cleared his throat nervously and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. For a tier 8 to show such discomfort meant he really had to have regretted these ‘other methods’. An Arch Mage didn't get nervous about something simple.

  “These ‘methods’ being?” Galain prompted with a raised eyebrow.

  “It is well-known that Devils deal in information.”

  “No~...” Galain breathed out and winced.

  “Yes. It cost me a level.”

  This time there was no stopping the surprised inhalation of breath throughout the room.

  While Gagan, Goveer, and Galain were experienced in hardship; Richard, Callum, and Buxcomb were not. For a tier 8 to lose a level meant billions of mana and cultivation resources, lost. There were no tier 8 city trees within the Empire, so they had to either travel to a tier 8 zone to cultivate -- an extremely dangerous and resource intensive prospect -- or use lower tiered mana and very slowly build. Given that Royal Officials couldn't easily travel due to work restrictions, they had to hire tier 8 or 9 mercenaries to go harvest resources…an extremely expensive endeavour.

  “I am sorry it cost you so dearly, my brother. I will have a discussion with the tax master so as to ease your burden slightly.” He didn't give him the chance to refuse because Galain would not yield on this, “Was it worth it? What did you learn?”

  “Unfortunately, I do not think it was worth it.”

  Callum was the only one who recoiled in shock because he was the only one that didn't know, you never truly won against a devil.

  “I learned that the Gods are absent because they are being suppressed by an external force called Tokei Shokunin -- the watchmakers -- through unknown means. Though they expect extraterrestrial involvement.”

  “Is it not good that we know this, at least? Why was it not worth it?”

  Galain could always see to the heart of a matter, it is what made him such an effective leader.

  “Because…I think in the process of obtaining this information, they discovered that Yggdrasil was vulnerable with the gods suppressed. I think I tipped them off and they sold that information to the Demons. Who then invaded Lazfeld.”

  Now…it is important to remember that Galain is more than 8000 years old, with his two brothers being only a few centuries younger. Callum and Richard were still a youthful 1000 years old, and no one knew how old Buxcomb was, just that he had been working in the palace for ages.

  To a man, each and every person in the room, Goveer withstanding, was reeling.

  “Troubling times indeed.” Galain said, some of the weightiness of his voice forgotten while his prodigious mind sprang into action. His hands started shaking and tears filled his vision though he did not seem to notice.

  Callum noticed these tears and misunderstood the Emperor's emotions for only a brief moment. He mistakenly thought that his legendary emperor was driven to grief at the loss of life these events would cause.

  This perception was shattered the next moment as Galain exclaimed, “YES!!”

  He gleefully sprung from his seat at the head of the table and started pacing up and down the spacious but spartan war-room. A devilish grin was affixed to his face, and his left hand stroked his smoothly shaven golden jaw.

  He was excited.

  One did not unite multiple kingdoms without the love of a challenge. The prospect of facing demons, discovering the intrigue behind the god's disappearance, and having to lead an entire empire? That was a challenge worthy of a tier 10. He bit his lip as he realised just how boring the last few millenia had been. He'd almost started losing his edge.

  He turned to face them with narrowed eyes and a mischievous smile, “Gentlemen, the game is afoot. Richard, what would the political ramifications be if we send a large military force to reinforce Volun and support Lazfeld?”

  “Wait father, how sure are we that demons have even invaded Lazfeld?”

  “Remember lad,” Gagan rumbled, “we don't bring anything to this table we aren't sure of.”

  “I scried on Lazfeld: smoking ruins are all that remain of their capital.” Goveer said grimly.

  Richard visibly gulped, then got himself under control. He wasn't some child that couldn't handle bad news, now he had to improvise, adapt, overcome.

  When he spoke again his voice rang with strength, conviction, and just the barest hint of intrigue, “Marryvale will most definitely think we are supporting the Ellis family in this conflict, but nothing should truly come of it. They will investigate, we will tell them it is because we are Empire, and need not explain something that is not their business.”

  “Well said, my prince.”

  They all turned to where Lady Clarice, the true diplomatic advisor, walked through the door, “But you underestimate the Marryvalian influence. Volun and the Ellis people are already being sanctioned by their Enchanters Guild, while their citizens are under pressure in Marryvalian auction houses, or any associated auction houses.”

  She rounded the table and stood behind her seat for but a moment.

  “What we need to do is encourage the marriage between Ellisandra and the Polusk Ivan’tzar Blodovich. This will force the Marryvale brat to back down.”

  She started pacing up and down the long wall of windows that beautifully illuminated the conference room and provided a stunning view of the capital spread out below.

  She turned her swirling azure eyes on the emperor, “We cannot send a large force to Volun. The Poluski will see it as the Empire meddling in their internal affairs, the Marryvalians will view it as favouritism, and we all know the Gloryhammer clan will be green with envy.”

  The men all nodded and rolled their eyes at the peculiarity of the Gloryhammer clan. No one questioned how Lady Clarice was already up to speed, because they weren't allowed to know. Only Galain knew, and he certainly wouldn't be revealing her secret. He had long since learned when to mind his own fucking business.

  “And what of KreppinFae, Bong’Odi, and the Cloud People?” The Emperor prompted. A leader need-not come up with all the ideas in a meeting…they just had to choose a direction and keep their people on track.

  “Gloryhammer will not be in favour, which means KreppinFae will likewise not be in favour. As a side note: I've heard rumblings of discontent within KreppinFae that are concerning, but it is not pertinent to this discussion.” Galain nodded for her to continue, “The Bong’Odi will see profit to be made by the supply runs, and will be in favour. The Cloud People…I sometimes struggle to parse their motivations. If they view this militant move as going against Nature then they will actively sabotage the effort. But otherwise we can expect inaction. Given that we will be reinforcing against a potential demonic invasion, they might view it favourably.”

  Galain already knew the Wavestriders and Brekley riders would not interfere…but fucking Marryvale. If they weren't so damn good at producing excellent enchantments and wares he would have annexed them long ago. Galain also didn't want to be a tyrant.

  “It is the destiny of tyrants to be overthrown.” His father had once said.

  “And the fortress?”

  If the room had been silent before it was now reminiscent of a vacuum.

  Lady Clarice shifted ever so slightly to show her discomfort, “They would not care so long as they are paid.”

  …

  “We can always-” Goveer started.

  “Don’t you fucking say it!” Gagan roared at his brother and this time actually reached for his sword, but Goveer quickly raised his hands and stuck out his tongue at Gagan.

  “Very well. We will not hire them…What are we going to do then? We cannot overtly send aid, yet Volun will need all the help we can spare.”

  “Hmmmm…”

  “Well…” Richard started slowly, “It is past time I visited my old masters at Brekley, and Volun is on the way so I might as well stop and visit my good friend Margrave for a few weeks…”

  “You're of course going to need guards, the Empire is very tempestuous at the moment.” Galain smirked as he caught on.

  “And of course you cannot show up without bearing gifts, I believe 100 martial masters to train their youths for a few decades would be an excellent gift.” Lady Clarice likewise smirked.

  “Very well. Callum, change of plans. You will be our herald, race to Volun post haste and make sure to bring my generous gift along. We will arrive in 3 months. It will take some time to make arrangements for my absence.”

  “Of course, my Lord.” Callum stood, saluted crisply, and left the room. He was seasoned enough to know when his part in this meeting was over.

  “Now,” Galain folded his hands and leaned forward onto the table, “what are we going to do about the gods?”