Three years ago…
The Emperor’s Table was full. Jaysynn was surprised he himself was even there, sitting in his traditional seat: the fourth one down from the head of the table on the “princes’ side.”
At the head of the table were his parents, Emperor Thorynn and Empress Zebel. His father, ever the traditionalist, wore black royal robes, his purple cape, and the jewel-encrusted crown bearing the “lightning fist” insignia of Thyrion. His mother was dressed similarly, minus the cape, but it was her face that struck Jaysynn. Her expression was cold. While the Emperor’s eyes flared with power, hers were icy sapphires. Her skin looked like a frozen lake. Mist emitted from her nostrils with every breath and from her mouth whenever she spoke, which wasn’t often, but when she did, her voice was the whisper of a wintry wind. A youth defying her years seemed to have been frozen on her body.
Jaysynn and his brothers all wore their finest tailored suits. Across from them were his sisters, each of whom wore the dresses that had made them the envy of every woman in the kingdom. They had but to look outside to be blinded by the reporters’ flashing cameras. Filling the remaining chairs on both the princes’ and princesses’ sides were several Thyrian military officers Jaysynn did not recognize.
At the opposite head of the table, however, were seated Gen. Dracon and High Priest Pelag, the head of the Temple of Thyrion. The general wore his dress uniform while the gray-haired high priest was clad in his finest white robe.
This is no ordinary meeting, thought Jaysynn. It has to be important if all of us have to be here, even me.
Thorynn stood, stretching to his full height.
Dracon and Pelag then stood and, with heads bowed, saluted the Emperor by pressing their right arms on their chests and then extending their clenched fists to him. With that, the soldier and priest sat back down.
“I will forego trivialities and tell you why we are meeting,” Thorynn said in a voice like distant thunder. “I am going to re-conquer Remirion.”
Everyone—even the Empress—looked surprised.
Remirion? thought Jaysynn. It was a name he had not heard since he was boy. Unfortunately, he voiced his next thought. “Don’t they call themselves ‘Falcon Point’ now?”
A growl rumbled from Thorynn’s throat. “Do not use its rebel name,” he said, pointing at Jaysynn. “Its name is, and always shall be, Remirion, the name given it by my ancestors.”
Jaysynn hung his head to avoid the shaming glares everyone at the table was throwing at him.
Dracon was the next one to speak up. “My Emperor, this would be our third campaign to bring that city back under the Thyrian flag. The last one was years ago. Thousands of Thyrian soldiers died in that long, fruitless war.”
“We are wiser and stronger now,” said the Emperor, raising a clenched fist. “Remirion will learn that it is always under Thyrion’s rule.”
“My Emperor, I fought in that war,” said Dracon. “The Remirians have a highly defensible position in the Mericon Mountains. And they are expert fighters. Their military is small, but it is highly trained.”
“Thyrion has crushed stronger enemies under its heel,” said Thorynn. “This…thorn in my side will be no different.”
Dracon turned to Zebel. “What do you have to say to this, my Empress?”
The slender figure of the Thyrian Empress rose. “I am in agreement with my husband. If we do not subjugate Remirion, other cities under our dominion may dare to rebel against us.”
“Father and Mother are right,” said Shar. “They have defied Thyrion for over a generation. Their rebellion can’t be tolerated.”
The other princes and princesses voiced their vehement agreement—all except Jaysynn, who remained silent as he sat back and crossed his arms. I’d say something, but they wouldn’t care, he thought.
“I agree,” said Dracon. “I just want to avoid rushing headlong into a foolhardy war.”
“Where does the Temple stand on this?” Thorynn asked Pelag.
The high priest slowly stood with his wrinkled hands folded in front of his face. His bones creaked loudly. “I have communed with Elthor in prayer. I have sought wisdom from the Book of Thyr in the Scared Tomes. If I speak falsely in what I am to say, may I be punished most severely.” He paused. “Remirion has rebelled against its masters, and in their pride, its people established their own nation. The High Lord has looked upon their sins with disgust and appointed Thyrion to judge them. He will deliver the rebel city to you so that it will be smote by his righteous hammer. You have the Temple’s blessing.”
“Then it is settled,” said Thorynn. “We cannot fail now.” He turned to the eldest prince. “Shar, my son, it is time for you to prove your mettle as my heir, so I appoint you commander-in-chief of the armies in this campaign.”
Shar smirked. “Thank you, father. It will be an honor.”
Jaysynn shot a glare at his brother while the rest of their siblings applauded him and showered him with congratulations.
Dracon, on the other hand, looked annoyed. He spoke over the applause, saying, “My Emperor, I must respectfully disagree with your choice of leader.”
Everyone fell silent, turning to him in shock. Jaysynn, however, was trying to hide a small smile.
“You dare question my decision!” shot Thorynn.
“My apologies, my Emperor,” replied Dracon, who looked to be using all his discipline to remain calm. “But Shar is not ready to lead. He is inexperienced on the battlefield.”
“He is the best fighter of all my father’s children,” interjected Talynn.
“And the smartest,” chimed Chel.
Jaysynn’s stomach turned at hearing their almost worshipful praise.
“Prowess and intelligence are no substitutes for experience,” retorted Dracon.
A moment of silence followed.
Jaysynn secretly hoped this meant the general’s comment had changed their minds. It’s better coming from him than me.
“You are correct, Dracon,” the Emperor began, “and that is why you will accompany Shar as his military advisor.”
Jaysynn’s jaw dropped.
Dracon clenched his fist but managed to refrain from pounding the table. “My Emperor, I have several other campaigns I must manage.”
“Remirion will be squelched!” thundered Thorynn, lightning flaring in his eyes. “They are already sowing seeds of defiance in other cities. Let its punishment be a warning to them—God-Emperor Thorynn will tolerate no rebellion!”
Silence.
Sweat beaded on Jaysynn’s forehead.
For several eternal seconds, Dracon stared with barely hidden contempt at the Emperor. Neither man would back down.
Finally, the general sat down. “It will be done as you command…my Emperor.”
Thorynn blinked, his expression softening, although it was like going from steel to stone. He spoke the Thyrian emperor’s traditional benediction, saying, “My will is the will of the High Lord.”
Pelag recited the traditional response: “It shall be obeyed.”
The Emperor and Empress stood. Everyone else stood after that and departed to carry out Thorynn’s decree. Except Jaysynn. He sat with his head buried in his hands. No one, not even Dracon, bothered to ask him why he looked depressed.
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