Vescrutia: Legacy

The Kingdom of Denkou is a human-led monarchy counted among the longest known to Vescrutia. A place whose people were once of humble means, travelers who settled here upon the Emerald Ascension after enduring a turmoilous pilgrimage to the lands of Madeira. It is a place where magic and technology seamlessly intertwine, and Illuminite, its lifeblood, courses through every nook and cranny of its constitution. Its residents are mages who have mastered lightning to such a degree that they can weave its many components into their districts—made possible by their reverence and loyalty to a lineage of arcane knowledge that predates even Neovia, the Capitol of Madeira. Because of this influence, the Denkou have enjoyed over 10,000 years of holistically undisturbed peace and growth.

Their technological advances and deep mystic knowledge have created a society unconcerned with coins and would instead measure their worth by the equity intentionally presented to their citizens. Despite being led by the nobility, the Denkou do not practice a mindset that would see those not belonging to the four houses as lesser, and even the smallest ant plays a vital role in keeping the colony afoot. A point even more fully so that all Denkou now possess even the slightest trace of the Emerald King's magic, regardless of rank or class. People are connected by an intrinsic spiritual tether, a web of bonds that once saw them living in peace, prosperity, and unity. All held together by their lynchpin, the Emerald King. A title that once inspired hope for a blossoming future. Now, it has become a symbol of fear for the kingdom. The old saying rings true, even for a utopia like this.

All that glitters is not gold.

Because they were obsessed with power, or more actually, that protection of it, the Denkou have taken many extreme measures to safeguard the Ri'ore bloodline, bearers of the Emerald King's legacy. Upstairs, Illigentamte heirs, any disturbance that would upset the peaceful balance of their kingdom would see themselves shamed, jailed, banished. At one point, the most significant law, Denkou could never slay Denkou, was upheld with unwavering resolve. Yet ever since the rule of the current King and the decade leading up to his inheriting of the crown, this land, this once bountiful utopia, a veritable fortress of meta-tech, has now become more of a prison with many dental being restricted from leaving. A once liberal place is now bound to many rules and policies that have begun suffocating the citizens. Their once equitable land was now ruled by a man who would see the noble houses's prosperity placed above the others. This had been causing civil unrest, with many protesting and advocating for fair and just treatment. Yet just as quickly as these embers of rebellion began, they were snuffed out, like candle lights, before they could become wildfires.

This dogma belonged to Myos Vaal Ri'ore Denkou, The Fourth Emerald King. Somberly, he sat on his throne in the grand palace, Eminence. Within the carefully yet extravagant halls of the throne room, his eyes traced the tactfully woven patterns leisurely and how they snaked around the many support pillars that held this place together. There was a fire countenance to his gaze, a subtle smoldering ambition that yearned for more, longing for advancement. Though this hall was silent, it was filled with his thoughts concerning the kingdom's current state. Despite the many advancements he had concentrated through his reign and the spike in their military advances, he was still considered a callous ruler only out for the fulfillment of self and the nobility.

"The lips that once spoke highly of the Emerald King, pinnacle painting of their grandeur, now curse your name as a tyrant. Regardless how of your labor over their safety."

His eyes brimmed with a soft sapphire glimmer that ebbed like a flame. Within his hand was a cup of wine. He gingerly sipped from it as if paying the voice no mind. The disembodied speaker continued.

"Thier, Happiness, is not my concern. I have and will continue to do what must be done to keep the legacy of the Emerald King at the center of who we are."

"And yet, despite this, it is not you who they pray to, pray for, the name on the lips of the lowest Shaper, to the highest Weaver is not yours, but that of..."

With a slight flex of his fingers, the glass shattered, spilling the wine; before a single drop could reach the ground, his eyes flared for a moment before the wine and glass fragments were devoured by a flame that manifested from thin air. An azure shade manifesting behind him, ebbing in and out like a fading candlelight.

"If they have anyone to blame for how I MUST rule, they should blame my father."

He said as he leaned forward, placing his hands under his chin, contemplating so.

"His soft nature had led to the degradation of what once made Denkou a Kingdom whose myth alone had stopped invasions before they even occurred. Only by returning to our roots will we venture to an age of even greater prosperity. Dalazar is an illgimate child. The King sired an heir, ME! He was supposed to be executed at birth...."

"But the power of the Lightbearer safeguarded him; Fulgora Dogma proved greater than either of us; even third-tier magic could not harm him. You witnessed it yourself; even the King himself could not harm the boy; the Foudner's divinity protected the child that inherited the will of its former vessel, Ains. Power is little the concern; the people possess little faith in you, even among the noble houses, dissonance echoes. You have their fear, not their hearts."

His eyes simmered into arrows.

"I need not their hearts, nor their concerns...I need only their obedience."

"And The Queen? No doubt her voice is the loudest among those preaching your downfall."

"Let them preach, plead, plot all they like. None possess the might to see me from my position. My mother remains Queen in name alone, a figurehead presenting the masses powerless to stand against me alone. Their secret planning means nothing in the face of power, such as mine. And with you by my side and the coming of the Solstice, when the barrier keeping Paana Chiyo from my grasp weakens, my claim to the throne will be absolute."

"The Oasis, so that is your aim then? Your inability to claim it after these years is one of their greatest reasons to denounce you. Should you claim it for yourself? Yes...I see it all now."

"The final piece of the puzzle will return before then. However, he prevents me from gazing upon him by severing our connection via the Pathways. Though based on your intel, a rather embarrassing failure, I might add, the fool has awakened his Kingsblood, and with it in tow, he will make his way back here."

"Hmp, he is mightier than you think; even though it was Dracovis's spirit that gave him the edge he needed against me, it was his resolute will that ultimately forced my banishment."

"Oh, please Azar."

Myos rolled his eyes before rising from his throne. His right hand clenched tightly before him.

"He has always been a martyr, even as a child. Throwing himself in the path of my parents ire to protect me, even though I was always at fault. He is a blowheart clinging to the fables of noble hearts and benevolent aristocracy. A child is unaware of the true qualities one must possess to ensure that a Kingdom survives and evolves."

The shade followed him closely as he moved about the space, his long cape trailing behind him.

"He is an idealistic fool who overestimates his cunning and understates mines. That he would believe anything could enter or leave this domain without my knowing is proof enough of his inability to rule. I am privy to his plans to return, and even if I did not, I know my little brother better than anyone. He. Will. Come."


*Knock knock*

Upon the giant doors to the chamber, a stern announcement of another.

"You do not believe the heart is important, but in your heart shall burn a fury that may see this realm reduced to ash..."

"Let it be thus, for from those very ashes, this kingdom shall be spawned anew. Greater than ever before..."

"Your Lordship. We have gathered as you have asked."

The shade vanished, with a sinister smile being the last thing to dissipate. Myos took his seat once more, unconcerned with the foreboding.

He waits begrudgingly upon his throne, allowing their anxieties about his summons to simmer more. The robustness of their maladies is a sonnet that feeds his ego. Oh, how their tempers flared while their whispers piled on.

"Enter..."

The echo of his statement bounced from the walls, interrupted by the creaking of the doors, which were unlocking and opening. First to enter were the two guards at his call at all times. They were clad in traditional Denkou armor tailored perfectly to their frames; its lith appearance spoke nothing of its incurable resiliency. Afterward, four others entered, adorned with various trinkets representing their different houses and their standing among them: the Eminent three, those first in line to inherit their houses, second seat to their clans. Fae Tav Flonne, bearing the crest of the Saphire Mantis, the green-haired man walked stoically, bowing before Myos and taking his assigned position. Next, hovered in a man with white hair, his feet barely above the ground, his gaze nestled in a book whose pages moved with but the sway of his eyes. When he got before the King, he caused the book to vanish, bowing before Myos, revealing his house emblem, The Crimson Ant, Brea Ul Gamallow. Following him would be a tall, stalwart woman who stepped with the air of a fiercely trained warrior, yet the lightness behind them was that of a graceful dancer.

"..."

She remained silent like the others before her: the emblem of the Ebon Bear, the heiress of the Grizzly Mages, Emerion Gal Urso. Her hands remained tight at her side, awaiting the king's directive. Last but certainly not least, a man well-lived with grey hair and a demeanor that did not invite respect. It declared it. A notion to those unfamiliar with his lore would deem his stand haunt, but it was simply the decorum of a man who has stripes well earned.

"Under Fulgora's gaze, we greet you, your excellency."

He bowed the golden symbol of the serpent house gleamed in the passing lights. He introduced himself as Koselik Ver Ri’ore. Second seat to the Ri'ore household. A position that differed in character from the others, typically given to an Ascendant Mage, the height echelon of caster in the Kingdom besides the King himself as the one who would serve as king in the absence of one born with the Emerald gene. However, when a King yet reigns, they are tasked with cultivating the other three noble heirs. Over the last three years since the prince's sudden disappearance, his diligence toward their well-being has only intensified. They revered him as a teacher, parental figure, and warden. But none would disparage the fruits his methods bore.

They all remained bowed, as was customary, until the King next spoke. His hefty presence pressed heavily upon them like an iron palm pressed firmly on their backs. He then sighed somberly before addressing the gathered.

"Yes, yes, You may rise."

Koselik's brow twitched; his dismissal of their most basic yet time-honored customs was unbefitting of one who wore the Emerald Crown, and yet, here they were. They rose in unison, their eyes focused on Myos. Save for Emerion, whose eyes remained closed.

"You are here because you are said to be the next generation of Denkou Nobility. No doubt you understand the weight of this mantle. Yet, despite the tales of your prowess, I have to see those who would take on the torch of my guard, protection, and extension of my will, that is, The Will of the Fourth Emerald King."

"If I may, Your Majesty."

Fae spoke up, his pink iris like that of a cunning snake.

"How might we be able to demonstrate not only our abilities but our unwavering devotion to your purpose?"

Myos brow arched, and a coy smirk crept on his face. He rose from his seated position, and the others responded by bending their knees upon the cushioned padding.

"And just what do you know of my purpose, boy?"

Fae's facial expression melted into a nervous one, but he did not allow himself to fold.

"One such as I could never hope to understand the depths of your design, your grace; thus, I have asked you to speak it to us."

"Hmp, you've certainly the gall fo the Flonne, that's for sure...."

He continued, stepping quietly down the array of steps leading to the center of the throne room.

"We stand upon the recipe of something grand, a shift in the planetary paradigm. Over the last decade, the ways of the Denkou have slipped from grace, the dignity and power we once held, but as after, though ladened in self-consumption and mockers. More concerned with the thread count of our pillows than the number of nations that should fear us."

His words carried the boon of light under as they reverberated off the stone pillars.

"As such, we find ourselves on the brink of war again. Invaders are tip-toeing at our doorstep. Is this not what your report of the little...excursion to the capital spoke of?"

"Indeed, Your Grace, I saw the Tera elv, respective of the Mazoku Empire, myself. As did the three."

"And what type of people did they strike you as, Koselik, you who bears the brunt of the burden for training the would-be mages of tomorrow?"

He was hesitant to share his earnest thoughts, but he knew that any attempt to conceal his accurate impression would only inflame the King.

"They were completely loyal to their ruler, not even a hair out of place in their devotion to him..."

Clap

Clap

CLAP

"And there you have it, loyalty, devotion, oaths gladdening in grandeur, absolution. These are the traits I find lacking in the current heads of your houses. Still loyal to past squabbling of the third King, their hope dancing on the edge of the abyss...while it goes ever further. How long? Hm? How long will we remain divided until this blight of outsiders overtakes us?"

"You think the Heads seek to betray you then,"

Brea spoke brashly. Usually, an address without some honorific would have earned him immediate detainment, but Myos would let it slide this once, let it not be said that he was without mercy. But his glare spoke that I would not be allowed to pass again.

"I would not waste my breath on an assumption. It is painfully obvious, but their petty lurkings do not worry me. I am concerned with not the broken pillars of the past but the bold, bright gems of the future."

He stopped before Emerion, who had been taking in his words and processing the many feelings they inspired. From her stone face of contemplation, Myos could tell she was a smart one.

"Gems that have yet to be soiled by the fitted venom of their parents. One who might not have to bear the sins of their fathers, one who may yet assist me in bringing about the change necessary to see this Kingdom stand for another ten millennia."

"So, a contest then, your lordship? Of strength, of devotion? "

Emerion spoke with a stern voice. Her eyes opened, revealing her glistening amber glow—a trademark of an Ascendant Mage.

"Indeed. A bout held in display before the entire Kingdom, a personal invitation to show where their loyalties lie..."

"But how would the contest prove this?"

Myos said nothing about Koselik's demeanor, which became like a cold winter draft from the mountains. That chill carried over to his next choice of words. Merely smirked.

"Because it is a battle...to the death."

“ I appreciate your flagrant imagination, but contrary to popular demand, I am not a total tyrant.”

Myos chuckled lightly; he didn't need to pry into the Pathways to read Kosilek's intentions or devise how he might be seen by the old one. That was the thing about legends, remarkably accurate ones: They made the ones who inspired them predictable.

“ Though the nobility and people may question my methods, what should never be questioned is my commitment to seeing our kingdom flourish. “
His arms folded casually under each other.

“I would not so…openly tarnish our most sacred law…however, should one perish in this no holds barred display, well…to me, that weakness is an even greater sin. One with a looming promise of invasion,” That sin is one we cannot afford to bear. In these trying times, we need unity, universal certainty of where our combined intentions...and allegiance lie."

“That said, I also cannot openly tolerate being aware of attempts to overthrow my rule. But, you asked what would prove your dedication. The answer is quite simple..."

His tone became stiff, and the weight of his piercing leer penetrated their composure. Their anxieties built like swirling madness caressing the napes of their necks.

"Bleed for me, and if it means upholding the name of the Emerald King, be willing to die for me..."

"Less cryptically, I give you a chance to show your commitment to both the sanctity of the crown and the land it governs, as well as the people who depend on it, on you. By proving you have the resolve to do what is needed to stand against outside and inside its borders… even family…

The weight of his words hung heavy on their shoulders. A melting pot of various thoughts and emotions. Some lament the choice, others reveling at the grasp for power. Koselik, however, despite appearing the most contained, was fuming. He and the other heads had underestimated his cunning and sway in the Kingdom. Not many would openly denounce his rule; fear of relation aside to do so would disparage thousands of years of faith in the crown and the nobles who risk their lives to keep them safe. Those that did were never heard from again, but more so than their fear of him, they clung to their faith in their comforts. So the supporters of the true king worked behind the scenes; they had thought their operations to be going well, and they had avoided his eyes, which they hoped had been blinded by his thirst for more power. They had been wrong about his aims; it was not tangible power sought...

It was dominance...

He allowed their motives to go purposefully unchecked. By forcing the current heads and their children into combat, he took full control of the tide of this campaign against him. With their votes of support, he would control the four families. The people could only naturally follow.

"No doubt the naysayers, along with those who openly support you, would wish for a chance to prove themselves to you as well; why not open it up, my lord, to any in the kingdom? You can kill many birds with but a single stone..."

Myos's smoldering gaze became one of contemplation after Brea's suggestion. Koselik shot him a glare, which he promptly dismissed. Brea had always been the ambitious sort. Undoubtedly, he wished to prove himself and win the king's favor so that his experiments would be sanctioned. But even the Ri'ore elder could not dismiss the validity of his words. Opening up the tournament to any in the kingdom who wish to swear fealty...

"What an... enticing offer....yes..indeed."

He sat on his throne, crossing his legs as he pondered it. The tension Brea created was payable as the others brooded over the impact this would unleash in the Kingdom. A possible bloodbath, even if the king expressed it was not his aim, he welcomed it by omitting it as a term of the battle. It would be not just their parents who may be forced to kill or be killed; they could be slaughtering civilians.

"I beg you, sire, reconsider..."

Koselik protested, this very idea was madness waiting to flood thier home.

"No..."

It was sharp, defined, absolute. His mind had been made up.

"Fear already translate to them as powerlessness, concerned whether their voice matter. So why not provide them...with hope? A chance at ascenion! Doubt they would survive the ordeal, but the gesture...yes,I'm sure there are those who think thesmlves our betters. Let us give them the space to prove it. Those who that do so will be welcomed into my elite, the Royal Gaurd no less. Such is my decree; in three days, I shall announce this precious opportunity before the kingdom and the date and time it shall commence. You are all dismissed."

He stared at Myos, their aura flaring in the unseen before he withdrew his presence from them and left the chamber. The others bowed, Brea nodding to Myos before he bowed and left lastly with the rest of them.

"Now, Mother, let's see what you shall do."

As the doors to the throne room shut, there was an intense silence after the chambers were sealed shut again. Though the King blanketed his true intention, a decorative casualness, the undertone of what this tournament served ass was plain as day to them all. A final assessment of loyalty, a culling of those who would stand in his way. A declaration they could not refuse, as a word spoken from the King's mouth held the same importance as a royal siren, and to ignore it would incur the same consequences.

"What in the FUCK was that Brea?"

Emerion, who seemed to be the cool and collected of the bunch, wasted little time letting her fruition and fury towards Brea's teacher's pet demeanor. She knew he had his benefits to consider, but shamelessly embellishing wholesale slaughter of their civilians. That was low even for him.

"Heh, My Emerion, it's not like you to be so...sizzling."

Her eyes were trained on him like arrows ready to be let loose. His eyes slithered over her frame with lust.

"Well...you are an Urso; aggression is your kind disposition."

"You dare to mark the family that has remained the Royal Gaurd of the Nomble bloodline since its inception? Still, your tongue, lest my claws become the least of your concern."

She nearly grabbed the hilt of her blade; however, Fae chuckled and abruptly stopped her, bringing her out of her rage.

"I fail to see the humor in this. Flonne, You know that unrest has been spilling into the public, their living conditions, and their peace. Myos..."

"Your King..."

"..."

She became silent, but her fury was palpable. Koselik remained silent.

"Our ruler is aware of this; he knows the people plot against him, with royal backing no less. He cannot continue to the other cheek; the insurrections must he silenced if the Kingdom is to be ready for this looming threat soon to reach our home...or do the people mean nothing to you Urso?"

Her fist became clenched almost enough to draw blood from her hand. Kolisek placed a hand on her shoulder before opening his eyes.

"Yes, I quite agree."

"Lord Koselik?!"

The Urso heir was quite shocked. She had known him to be one of the high standards of equity in how he went about his nobility. How, then, could he agree with this?

"See there, Emerion. Even someone as...rooted in the old ways of our kingdom can see that this is a chance at fortification... no... it is a cleansing."

Fae said with a coy smile.

"I believe there is a foul illness pervading the once impregnable honor of the royal family. That the King sees this and is willing to bring about the change needed is a testament to his resolve as a ruler."

Koselik said as he laid his eyes on Brea, his gaze simmering with an ancient amber gleam.

"Gentlemen, I truly hope to see what you can bring. Hopefully, your skills lack the bravado of your chosen words and your diligence to the Kingdom. Emerion, I believe you have household tasks to perform...as well as I."

The young Ursocould scarcely believe what she was hearing right now. Had the Ri'ore house become this largely corruptied? That one of its eldest Pilalr, the man who would have been named King if myos could no longer serve...sponsored this bloodbath? She found her resolve to stand against them wavering in this instance...for now, she would heed Kolsiks's reminder.

"....Ngh...as you wish."

She shot them a glare that showed how she felt. Brea whistled a sharp tune.

"Scary girl, that one."

He faced Koselik

"I am glad to hear you understand the wisdom of our leader's actions. He is The greatest of the Emerald Kings and is sure to usher in a new age of prosperity. It is in the interest of all the houses and their pillars to align themselves with power..."

"I couldn't agree more. Now, I believe you all have your respective tasks as well. Let's not fall behind with idle chatter. I take my leave, respectfully."

The other nobles snickered as Kolisek bowed and left their presence.

Several Hours later

The kingdom's skies were thick with clouds, another wave of the eternal storm encompassing them. The Gamallow had devised a method of manipulating and contracting it, allowing them the privilege of expiring sunny days. However, since the dawn of the third astral year, the storm around the Emerald Ascenion has been especially vicious, too powerful to be swayed by outer influence. She stood from the Urso castle balcony, staring above at the melancholy-soaked skies. There was much on the young Urso's mind. The very fate of their kingdom hung in the balance, with threats now not only from outside but within as well. She had begun to doubt anything she once had absolute faith in. The shining lineage of their eclectic utopia most of all. A place she once saw as a pinnacle of power and progress, with the freedom to explore magic to their heart's content, is now a gold-line prison. As much as she hated to admit it, there was some form of truth in Myos's words. Their obsession with this superficial air of abundance and luxury had come to bite them.

"A king, dead, a tyrant in his stead. A powerless queen sick with grief over the death of both her husband and child...with another having fled, turning his back on the ones who suffer behind. The royal house is now nothing but cavorting serpents posing as noble kin."

Her hand gripped the rails in frustration, lined with various gems woven into the frame, her bitter resentment pooling like lava in her blood.

"Is this the Kingdom my family has bled for, the world...my mother died for?"

Her eye carried the weight of her inquisition of the skies, knowing no answer would come. What was it now that they fought for? What legacy would she soon inherit, with her brother declaring no interest in serving as head? A title she never thought would be hers, and now that it was, the price she was to pay for it was the head of her father? Having already nearly relinquished the memory of her mother.

"Lord Dracovis...King of Kings, how we desperately need your emerald gleam again; our guiding star fell, and with it, the last of our hope. What am I to do? Slay my father? Slay civilians? The others will not tolerate this... there will be a full-blown civil war before the B'halians even set foot here..."

She tremored in question. Her thoughts raced when she caught a brief chill down her spine. She returned to her room, nearing the door.

"You can come in..."

The doors pried open; it was Koselik.

As he entered, a veil of anxiousness overcame Emerion. She folded her arms to hide the trembling in her fingertips. The stoic elder closed the door behind him, sensing his student's growing despair. Emerion had always proved herself to be a thoroughbred Urso through and through. Ever loyal to the true bloodline, she was a borderline template of what all Denkou should aspire to be. Faithful yet questioning, fierce yet compassionate. And would be willing to lay her life down for the crown. To see her in such distress brought no joy to the Ri'ore noble's heart. And yet, it needed to be so, for there was much on the line, more than she could have ever known.

"Ah, Lady Emerion, do forgive the intrusion."

Her brow sharpened, just sharing his voice; what could this snake want with her?

"After your...performance before the others today, my forgiveness seems to be the least of your concerns."

"Hmp, Yes, I suppose so."

"Well...at least make yourself comfortable, I suppose; I'm sure you have some explanation?"

She motioned over to a stable set adorned with silver. It was an almost glass-like pipeline accompanied by a set of chairs with soft cushions.

"Your kindness is appreciated."

She said nothing further as they took their seats, sitting back against her chair with her eyes trained on Don Koselik, who had yet to open his. His candid attitude only incited her further, and as she went to let him have it, she felt the sharp tingling of a pathway connection. The Pathways was a system of telepathic tethering that allowed communication between Denkou. However, the King's forces closely monitor it to scout potential dangers and plotting. Those with exceptional skills can create "private channels," which can only be accessed by those who are a part of them. However, they are temporary and require much metal strength to hold up. She was shocked initially but allowed her shoulders to relax. She would hear him out.

"A private channel? I assume this needs to be swift."

Her posture is rigid; her arms are still folded.

"You think you can just waltz here and smooth things with explanations? Do you have any idea how you made me look today? Don't think I'll forget your little display in the throne room."

Koselik leans back slowly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Ah, but dear Lady Emerion, ‘tis not the first time a storm brews beneath a calm surface. I assure you, there is method in my madness."


"Method? How can you call it that, Don? You played your part well, and now I stand on shaky ground, all because of your theatrics."

Her voice rises.

"What am I to the court now, a foolish puppet to your schemes?"

His expression shifts, and seriousness overtakes his facade.

"Believe me, this is more than mere theatrics. What I’m about to share is vital to our survival."

Koselik pauses as if contemplating the weight of his following words.

"I trust you can keep a secret?"

Emerion frowned, suspicion creeping in.

"A secret? Is that all you have for me? What’s going on in our lands?"

"It is not a secret I chose to bear lightly. The death of Lord Dracovis… was no accident. It was Myos who orchestrated his demise."

"You can’t be serious. That means… the rumors were true?"

Koselik, nodding gravely, continued.

"It runs deeper still. Myos drained vital magic from the King while he lived, and now he has turned his attention to Dalazar."

Emerion hides the confusion mixed with horror from showing on her face.

"Dalazar? But he was always seen as weak, a shadow in the court. What could Myos possibly hope to gain from him?"

The Ri'Ore elder's grim demeanor deepened his tone more solemn than before.

"More than you can fathom. Dalazar is the true inheritor of the Emerald Soul, the legacy of our bloodline that Myos covets."

Emerion found herself stunned and shook her head in total disbelief. The boy with practically no magic power?

"Dalazar? I've heard the whispers, the names they call him, but I never believed it to be more than jest. This—this sounds like madness."

Koselik's voice becomes low and intense.

"Madness perhaps, but it is reality, Emerion. Queen Onohall revealed this truth to me; that Myos is twisted, possessed by ancient evil. In securing his throne, he has turned our very kin against one another."

Her grip tightened on her arms.

"What happened in the mines? Wasn’t it a rescue mission gone awry?"

His voice trembles slightly, recalling the horrors...the carnage he witnessed.

"I can assure you, it was no mere slip of the wrist. The Kingsblood awakened within Dalazar after seeing the slaughter of his twin. His power emerged amidst unbearable trauma. Myos seized this opportunity and began siphoning it for himself."

Emerion: standing abruptly, disbelief coloring her voice

"This can't be happening! You mean to tell me that Dalazar, the very prince we dismissed, could stand against Myos?"

Koselik sighs heavily.

"That is the very dilemma we face, Emerion. With Dalazar’s power comes hope, but under Myos’s treachery, even that hope flickers dimly. Prepare yourself; we may have to take up arms for this kingdom once more."

Determination gleamed in her eyes.

"So what do we do? We cannot let Myos continue this path of destruction. Are we to rally the remaining loyalists? "

"That would be wise. But we must act with care. The King’s forces watch every move, and we cannot afford to tip our hand too soon. Many snakes hide their fangs in the family, but their eyes are trained like finely crafted arrows."

Emerion sat back down, containing her conflicting emotions.

"And the tournament? I..I cannot slay my father, Koselik. I would sooner let him run me through."

"I am sure he feels the same. However, as intense as this proclamation is, it may be just what we need."

Her brow raised; how could anything about the wholesale slaughter of their people be considered any advantage?

"The death of those we are sworn to protect...advantageous?"

"Your brother...Evant has returned to the Kingdom...and the King will soon return."

Her eyes widened. Evant? She had heard that he was sent to find Dalzar by the King's request, to return without doing so...but of course—the tournament. Myos wouldn't give up the chance to place her and him against each other. To make sibling inheritors fight for their standing beside him.

"I see... just executing him would only seek to create even more unrest. Instead, he plans to use the tournament to have us call each other. Whether it is I, Father, or Evant, either way, he will kill two Urso with a single stone."

"During the tournament's semi-finals, the Loyalists focused purely on protecting another king and maintaining order in the tourney. It is the only chance for Dalazar to slip back into the Kingdom undetected."

"But what hope does he stand against the king? He might have grown stronger, but can he truly best Myos."

"Ladt Emerion, your family has paid homage to the blood coursing through the Ri'ore for generations. Their stalwart faith in their king's legacy has withstood the test of both time and trial...do not allow your fear to consume that light of faith..."

"I...am just concerned...if he fails."

"He shall not. I witnessed it in Evant eyes. Dalazar has awakened and mastered his Kingsblood. The light of the Emerald King shall dawn upon the horizon of our nation once more!"

She could feel the pride and hope radiating from him like a beacon, which, in turn, relit the spark of her loyalty and trust in the crown, the proper crown.

"Then, for now...we play Myos's game...until then, we carry on as normal."

Koselik stood severing their channel and speaking now out loud.

"I am confident the King will bring us into the blossoming of an age of change for us all. Make sure both you resolve..and blade are prepared... thank you for the tea."

"Thank you...Koselik."

He bows before leaving her chambers. The weight of it all washed her with uncertainty. But, if she believed and trusted no one else, she believed in her brother. He would not so foolishly return to the kingdom empty-handed if he had no plan. Until then, she needed to trust her family. Their bond has pushed her to come this far, and she prayed it proved enough to see them on the other side of these bloodied times.

Two days have passed since the King decreed the tournament. The atmosphere within the kingdom was tense, but in a single day, their home was about to become a battlefield with the nobles bearing arms against civilians. Down the grand hallway, the stern clacking of heels could be heard respunding off the walls. They belonged to a woman whose apparel spoke of her stature, her body clad in a silver armament adorned in gold that mirrored her eyes teeming with a gilden hue. Her hair was regally pinned up with a jade shawl trailing behind her. Her poise and dignity were like an aura that oozed nobility. This was Queen Onohall, Mother to the current King and the widow of the previous Emerald Ruler. She was accompanied by two Urso Guards, members of her personal Escort. However, as they approached the door to the throne room she dismissed them with but a wave of her right hand. Her eyes turned to the horizon where the Kingdom lay in view. Her stalwart gaze wavered, this place that held such beauty, such intentional care soon to become doused in flames...her visions had told her so. And if her eldest was left to his own devices any longer that vision would sooner come to pass.

"..."

She was silent, taking the time needed to gather her thoughts and her composure. She doubted she could sway Myos from his chosen course. He was like his father in that way, stubborn, and determined. But her aim was different. There was something she needed to see with her own eyes, to confirm for herself the truth of Evant's parchment...and his accusations. She went to knock on the sealed doors, but before she could they opened on their own. As they creeked open her gaze became firm once more.

"Ah, Lady Onohall, what a pleasant surprise."

She remained silent as she walked through but her glare did not leave him for a moment. Myos's brow raised. For his mother to come here directly was rare, she had become somewhat of a recluse since the...unfortunate passing of his father.

"It's rare to see you trailing about the castle outside of your little laboratory."

Myos snickered

"Please, Myos, have a bit more decorum. You are a King after all."

Onohall rebuttalled.

"Yes, yes you're quite right. So..."

He said crossing one leg over the other. His azure eyes glared with a scrutinous light.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, it is rare for the Ascendant Queen herself to come before the...my throne."

He inquired his presence emanating an aura that demanded an answer, a swift one.

"I hear that you have opened the royal guard to the districts as a whole..."

She inquired

"Do You disagree with my decree?"

There was a long silence, one that tripled the tension in the room

"Though I believe your methods are... excessive. I believe it is a great opportunity."

"Oh? Is that so?"

He said leaning forward from his throne. Surprised by her response.

"And here I was sure that your disapproval was guaranteed. You haven't been the most...receptive to my claim to the throne."

His eyes trailed off to the throne room's decoration. Nearly every piece of emerald, malachite, or jade is replaced by some kind of blue stone. Only she truly understood the significance of this.

"Well...much has changed in the last four years."

"Yes, much indeed. So tell me then, why do you approach the throne, my throne."

"No doubt you are aware, that there is soon to be an insurrection. The people have become uneasy under your leadership. I wish to know, how will you deal with this coup?"

Onohall asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity to a question whose answer she was already quite aware of. Myos's eyes narrowed, his azure gaze locking onto his mother's unwavering form. The tension in the room was palpable, thick as the silence that followed her question. He leaned back on his throne, his fingers drumming a slow, rhythmic beat against the armrest.

"Insurrection, you say? Quite the ghastly thing indeed. The people's unease is a storm I anticipated, and I have plans to quell it,"

He replied, his voice a mix of confidence and caution.

"But tell me, why do you ask? Is this concern for the kingdom, or is it something more... personal?"

Onohall's eyes, still gleaming with that golden hue, met his with a steady, unyielding stare.

"Of course it is personal...Do you remember when your father first fell Ill, and the neighboring clan sought to use that weakness to invade?"

"Naturally...it nearly led to a civil war."

"It was during this time that I had to rise as the ruler of this nation, do you know why that catastrophe was avoided?"

"Please, do not pester me with questions...if you have a point, let's hear it."

"The Denkou cast system has always been based on the privileged taking care of those unable to fend for themselves. To provide both blades and shields for the districts. The system your father created, that I supported, kept us from the verge of warring with ourselves. But in the end, it seems that history is always fated to repeat itself..."

Myos's expression hardened.

"My father's methods were outdated, Mother. The world has changed, and so must we. The tournament is not just a means to quell unrest; it is a way to bring the people together, to show them that we are all part of the same kingdom, regardless of our station. The nobles have bled to keep the civilians safe, and still, they dare to bare their fangs and sow curses in secret. The perceived separation of noble and civilian contributes to this, what can be the harm In providing them the chance to see first hand...the power they have leaned on."

"You think that is the cause of this? In over ten millennia this has never been the case...."

"So what are you saying? The blame belongs to me? That is quite the accusation...almost...disrespectful."

She could feel his frustration growing, and with it a light wisp of dread overcame her. She needed to press him further.

"Please, perish the thought. I have given bone and blood to see this throne survive through the ages. Centuries of loyalty to the whims of the Ri'ore, To tarnish it with disrespect is far from my goal."

"Then what is? If I didn't know any better...I'd say you were the leader of the rebellion."

"I am still Queen Myos...."

"Queen, regreant. And truly, only in name alone, the moment I take a wife you will be stripped of the last of your frivolous titles."

"I see... do you mourn her still?"

It was then he became silent and with that silence the air seemed to become heavy with an incomparable fury, the moisture in the throne room quickly evaporating making it more difficult for her to breathe. But she did not fold, she refused to crumble and stood tall despite the despair gripping at her throat.

His deceased wife, Lyra, had been a wound that never truly healed, a scar that throbbed with every reminder. For Myos, King of Denkou, that reminder came in the echoing footsteps of his mother, Ascendant Queen Onohall, as she entered the throne room. The effect was immediate. Myos froze.

Onohall, bracing herself for the familiar smoldering reception from her son, had not expected this stillness. The air in the throne room became utterly still, suffocating. The flickering torches on the walls seemed to dim, their light struggling against an encroaching darkness that had nothing to do with the failing sun outside. The moisture in the air evaporated, leaving Onohall’s throat dry, and her lungs aching with phantom weights. He said nothing. The only sound was the frantic thumping of her own heart, a desperate drumbeat against the silence.

Then, slowly, agonizingly slowly, he turned to face her.

His azure eyes, once clear pools reflecting the sky, the color of a summer’s day in Denkou, swirled with a turbulent fury, an inner storm of unimaginable intensity. They were no longer azure, but the scorching white of a Xelphis flame, burning with a heat that felt as if it could incinerate her soul. And then she saw it. A faint shimmer at first, then a growing luminescence, a heinously malefic cobalt aura erupting around him, crackling with raw, untamed power. The meticulously crafted tapestries depicting the glorious history of Denkou seemed to fade into mere shadows against the intensity of his aura. The gold-leafed carvings on the throne itself appeared tarnished, diminished by the unnatural light emanating from their King. It was not anger. Anger was a familiar fire, hot and fast, but this… this was something far colder, far more dangerous. It was… power unleashed. And at that moment, Onohall finally understood, though it was less of an understanding and more of a cold callous confirmation. The insurrection, and the political machinations that plagued the outer courts, were not the greatest threat to Denkou. It was the King himself. He was a storm gathering in the heart of their kingdom, and she, his mother, was standing directly in its path.

“I think it a prompt time for you to take your leave…” His voice was a low, resonant rumble, devoid of warmth, each word edged with icy disdain. “…my patience crumbles under your insolence.”

Onohall felt the searing intensity from the magic festering within him, a physical weight pressing down on her chest. But she was Ascendant Queen, a woman who had weathered political storms and battlefield sieges, and more importantly, she was a mother. She resolved to stand before her firstborn. Despite the tyrant he was becoming, a chilling presence radiating from the throne, she could not deny the hope that flickered in her heart. Her baby boy was still in there, somewhere. That the mention of Lyra – unspoken, yet palpable in the charged air – had triggered such a reaction, proved as much. He still felt. He still grieved. She would dare to persist, knowing full well that her life might be in danger. But this dark presence within him, this corruption that was twisting the very essence of her son, she wanted to face it, to understand it, to fight it. After all the chaos it had wrought, she wished to stare into the face of the beast itself and pull her child from its grasp.

“Is it insolence for a mother to be concerned about the heart of her child, Myos?”

Her voice, though laced with concern, held a regal firmness that had commanded armies.

"You, who were the first light of life to be sired from my womb."

She placed a hand gingerly upon her stomach, a phantom caress of remembrance. The joy in her and her late husband’s hearts when they learned of Myos’s conception, the hope he had represented for their lineage, for Denkou… it was a stark contrast to the chilling figure before her now. Her eyes trailed back upward, locking with the swirling azure mirrors of his.

“It is not a weakness, Myos… to feel. To grieve. To love. It is what makes us… us. Your anger towards Dalazar, however…”

The mere mentioning of his name intensified his malefic aura even more. The cobalt light crackled around him, the very air vibrating with unrestrained power. The memory of that day, the day Dalazar’s birthright had awakened, was etched into Onohall’s mind with searing clarity. Dalazar, the younger twin, born mere moments after his late brother, had always been perceived as the weaker vessel magically. He’d been a quiet, introspective child, seemingly lacking the vibrant magical spark that blazed within Myos and his twin from birth. Then came the kidnapping. A desperate attempt by a rival faction with the assistance of a traitor of the Gamallow bloodline sought to destabilize the royal line. They set their sights on the twin, whose miraculous birth spelled the oncoming of a great change in the Denkou Bloodline. They fled to the network of underground tunnels beneath the Emerald Ascension but were caught off by Lyra's men. When the faction grew desperate in a standstill they threatened his older twins life. It was then...that Dalazar bloomed.

His birthright, the legacy of the Emerald Soul, long dormant, had awakened in a violent, uncontrolled surge of power. The catacombs had shattered, the kidnappers incinerated, and Lyra… Lyra, Myos’s beloved wife, a sorceress of immense skill, had been caught in the crossfire, shielding Myos from the raw, untamed energy. She had sacrificed herself to protect her husband from the power of his own brother.

And Myos had witnessed it all. He had seen the devastating power of Dalazar’s awakening firsthand, the power that had stolen his wife, the power that had nearly consumed him. It was not just grief that twisted his features now. It was something darker, something that festered in the shadow of that trauma. It was resentment, perhaps, twisted into something monstrous.

Onohall held his gaze, her heart pounding with a mother’s fear, but her resolve unbroken.

“Your anger towards Dalazar… it is consuming you, Myos. It is poisoning your reign. And it is not Lyra's legacy that you honor by succumbing to this hatred. Every second we spend fighting amongst ourself is another second ill spent to stave off this looming invasion.”

The cobalt aura pulsed, and the air around them crackled with anticipation, the silence stretching taut as a drawn bowstring. Onohall stood firm, a lone figure of defiance against the storm that raged within her son. She had spoken her piece. Now, she waited to see if any flicker of the boy she had raised, the boy who had once laughed in her arms, remained beneath the terrifying mask of power and grief.

"My anger towards Dalazar is justified!"

Myos roared, the throne room shaking with the force of his voice. Cracks spiderwebbed across the marble floor.

"He is a danger to Denkou! He's the reason Lyra is…" he stopped, the words catching in his throat. The cobalt aura pulsed, then flickered, revealing for a fleeting moment a flicker of the old azure eyes, the summer sky eyes of her son.

Onohall seized the opening.

"He is your brother, Myos! I..have already lost one child, Dalazar's twin gave his life to suppress his magic, my husband, your father is now dead. I cannot stomach to see my children wage war against one another. This hatred, this darkness that clings to you!"

She stepped closer, defying the oppressive heat, her own power gathering within her, a golden shield against the burning cobalt storm.

"You are not a puppet of grief, Myos. You are my son. And you are stronger than this. Relinquish the crown, let its rightful head take its mantle. We can still be...a family."

Myos snarled a guttural sound that resonated from the depths of his soul. The cobalt aura flared again, blindingly bright, and he raised a hand towards her. Onohall braced herself, ready to face whatever attack came, ready to endure the pain for her son. But the blow never landed. Instead, Myos clutched his head, a strangled cry escaping his lips. The cobalt aura pulsed erratically, fighting against the azure depths within his eyes. He gasped, struggling for breath, his face contorted in pain.

"Get…out," he choked, the words a ragged whisper.

"Please…Mother…get out…before I…before I can’t stop it."

He looked at her, and for that instant, Onohall saw not a king consumed by darkness, but a terrified child, lost in a storm of grief and power he couldn't control. She knew she had reached him. But she also knew that she was out of time.

"I will not abandon you, Myos," she said, her voice firm but laced with a desperate plea. "But I will respect your warning. I will leave now, but I will return. And I will not rest until I have pulled you from this flame."

She turned, her heart heavy with worry and a fragile spark of hope. As she reached the throne room doors, she glanced back. Myos was still clutching his head, the cobalt aura now struggling against the return of the familiar azure. The battle raged within him, a silent war between light and darkness.

Onohall knew that the fate of Denkou rested on the outcome of that internal struggle. And she knew that she had to find a way to help her son win. She had to save Myos, not just for the kingdom, but for the lost summer sky in his eyes. Yet feared that the only person capable of doing so would be Dalazar...for now she was able to confirm that the entity that ensares the soul of her child, is the very one that killed her husband, the very same that nearly brought the Kingdom to ruin during the reign of Ains the first Emerald King. Azar, the djynn of flame.