Unwelcome Dental Advice

The last time I posted a chapter from this book, I stated it was chapter one. The more I look at it, the more I consider it a prologue, and therefore this will be the actual first chapter.

A chill wind blew through the courtyard of Obsidian Citadel, home to the ruler of the Vekh Imperium. Winter was fast approaching, and Empress Meredith Vekh casually walked along the frozen path laid out before her, a retinue of her elite guard in tow. The Empress was young, 26 seasons, but the increasingly difficult times that had befallen the Imperium hardened the young woman and often made her appear much older. Her physical features, mannerisms, and general tone of voice often belied her age. Meredith had inherited rule when her father, Cullen Vekh, lost control over Imperial territories to the east and southeast and exiled himself out of shame. Meredith could still remember the night when her father had invited Landis Vayne, the rebel king, to court so they could discuss cessation of hostilities, and how the Northern Kingdoms and Free Cities of Sohm would secede the Imperium to become their own free nations. She never saw her father again after that evening. Meredith was 12 at the time.

                “Your grace,” the guardsmen to the war room both said as she approached. They uncrossed their well-polished poleaxes to let the Empress and her elite guard through.

                The Obsidian Citadel was a marvel of modern architecture. The keep was in the center of Vekh’nath and shaped like a lance. It stood eight stories tall, and at the tip of the lance was where the throne room was. The castle was surrounded by a moat, and from five points around it were paths that led to the various districts of the city. From the north side of the castle was the Path of Steel, which led to the Military District. The Imperium’s most important military personnel – generals, commanders, and highly decorated veterans – were housed there. On the south side of the castle was the Path of Arcanite, which led to the Arcanite Rise, where Imperial mages plied their craft. At the haft of the lance shape, a northwestern and southwestern path split. To the northwest was the Path of Iron, leading to the merchant quarter. Southwest was the Path of Bronze, leading to the housing district. From the tip of the lance, heading directly east, was the Path of Obsidian. When Thorris had the keep built and the paths named, he said, “The path east is the true path of any Imperial: the path to unity.” It was a building like no other in the world, and Meredith relished in the history lessons she’d read about it.

                The Empress entered the council chamber and discarded all her thoughts about the past. Already inside the chamber were several members of her wise council. Her guards held fast at the doors and the council members stood. Among those in attendance were Elder Agar-Osh Bristlebane, Harlan Orwyn, Taella Vargalla, Estus Martrand, and the enigmatic Vrok. “Your grace,” they said in unison.

Agar-Osh was the delegate chosen to represent the Galliard Highlands and all the peoples there. He was of the bruinfolk, a proud race of intelligent bear people who claimed they could trace their heritage back to the union of the bear-god Ursius and the Lady of Nature, Aliria. Agar-Osh Bristlebane was a veteran of many battles and nearing 175 seasons – nearly as old as the Imperium itself. Meredith thought he looked good for 175. His almost jet-black fur was finally showing signs of gray here and there, but he looked as youthful as she could imagine younger bruins could look. She regrettably had spent little time around the intrepid race of bear-men. It was something she believed she needed to remedy.

                Harlan was her uncle and represented the region that was, until recently, referred to as the Everbloom. Over the last several seasons, the Everbloom had fallen into darkness. The dead rose from their graves as the land became plagued and unfertile. The people called this phenomenon the Creeping Darkness or the Corruption. What began as a simple haunting of the forests near Loch Falmiir soon became an epidemic. The people of many towns and villages in the Everbloom fled to Gallineux, their capital, for refuge. Those living in the Everbloom now called it the Twilight Marshlands. Her uncle was Lord Regent of Gallineux.

                Taella Vargalla was her spymaster. She was the headmistress of an order of spies and assassins known as the Raven’s Eye. Taella was tall, olive-skinned, and smelled of sweat and leather. Her dark, slightly wavy hair hung loosely over her shoulders and covered the signet of her order. She usually wore light leather armor underneath a hooded cloak, but today she dressed in a pair of breeches and a tunic with a fur-lined cloak to keep out the cold. Everything about her oozed sexuality, and it often made Meredith uncomfortable.

                Her treasurer, Estus Martrand, sat next to the spymaster. Estus was an older man who had been the Imperium’s coin-counter since her grandfather, Justinius II, ruled. The Imperial coffers had nearly run dry during the war with the Northern Kingdoms and the Free Cities. Only in the last few seasons had trade with the newly freed nations opened back up. Trade with the Northern Kingdoms and Free Cities of Sohm was crucial, as the damages done to the land during the war and the new threats rising in the south had stunted the Imperium’s ability to produce certain goods and services. Estus, a white-bearded man now in his late 70s, shook his head as he pored over his books, scratching out certain entries and correcting them with numbers much lower than he had originally forecast. Meredith didn’t envy him his position.

                Her eyes finally locked on Vrok. Since the days of Thorris, the first Vekh Emperor, the ogres living in the country have been a conscripted race of warriors. While fearless in battle, ogre tradition dictated that the crest formation of their horns would determine a newborn’s caste. When Justinius I took on the mantle of Emperor, he spent time with the bruins and ogres, trying to learn their ways of life. He discovered the method by which duties were assigned to ogres at birth and removed the restraints that forced them to serve in the Imperial armies. Vrok had a single horn on his forehead. This indicated, by ogre tradition, that he would become a mystic. Vrok was indeed strong with mystical energy, on par with many of the most notable Imperial wizards and sorcerers. His immense size and dopey demeanor belied his awesome power and capability. The ogre mystic served in the north, near Drachenholme, helping fight the war against the rebellious drachen.

                Meredith made her way to the head of the table and sat. The rest of the council followed her lead. The giant table, made of polished cherry wood, had an immense map carved into the face. The map table had been here since Thorris ruled hundreds of years before. The Imperium banners that were once planted firmly in the Northern Kingdoms and the Free Cities of Sohm, then called the Esterlands and the Sjorenvahl, had been removed. New banners had been placed there to show where allegiances now belonged. Meredith sighed as she sat. Truly, she didn’t care about the losses of those regions. Even her father didn’t care. Neither of them wanted to rule over anyone but their own people. It was Thorris Vekh’s legacy. “Unite the nations, protect this world,” was what he was always quoted saying. Rubbish. The first Vekh emperor was simply mad hungry for power, in her eyes. Shaking her head, Meredith noticed there were some not in attendance.

                “Where are Bathas and Malgrin?” Bathas and Malgrin were scholars working out of an observatory that bordered the Blightlands deep in the mysterious Vakaran Jungle.

                Her uncle cleared his throat. “I am sad to report that the Hyllayan Observatory has been taken by the Creeping Darkness, your grace.” He could see that she was visibly agitated by the news. “The men from the Easthold Garrison we sent to escort Bathas and Malgrin back to the Capitol were never heard from again, except for one survivor, and…“ She waved him off, and her uncle ceased speaking.

                “And what of Gallineux, uncle?” she asked.

                Harlan cleared his throat once again. “The warding towers created by the mages at the Arcanite Rise have done an adequate job of abating the Corruption, but the area outside our city’s gates have flooded with refugees. They call it the Ebon Lowlands. Crime is at an all-time high, and we’re seeing more and more shadow-touched coming dangerously close to the city walls. If you could send us a company of soldiers to help keep the peace, we…“ She cut him off again.

                “We’ve no soldiers to spare, Uncle Harlan. You are my blood, but I will not curry you favor because of it.” Meredith sighed once more and buried her head in her hands. Her curly red hair spilled over her knuckles.

                “Yourrr grrrace,” Elder Bristlebane spoke up. The bruinfolk spoke more eloquently than the ogres, but their muzzles made for a poor translation of the common tongue, and often added growls where there were r’s in normal speech. “I have rrreceived worrrd frrrom Forrrt Timberrrpaw. Generrral Prrroudfoot has a batch of rrrecrrruits rrready and willing to fight. They arrre young, but the brrruin are strrrong and prrroud.”

                The young Empress paused to consider. She wasn’t keen on sending untested youth to guard a city that wasn’t even their own, yet the entire nation looked to her as protector of their interests. “Elder Bristlebane, I gladly accept your offer of recruits. See to it that they are sent to Gallineux and are paired with soldiers familiar with the land. They are there to help maintain the peace, and not as a fighting force. Under no circumstances will they be placed on the front lines should the warding towers fail.”

                Both Elder Bristlebane and Lord Regent Orwyn nodded in compliance. A hint of a smile crossed her uncle’s lips, she noticed. Despite him being her uncle, she found herself being distrustful of Harlan. The man had a sly way about him.

                “Taella, Vrok, what of the deserters from Drachenholme?” she asked, changing the subject.

                Taella turned to Vrok. The mystic rarely spoke, because ogres had terribly developed language skills. Even as long as they have been part of the Imperium, they never evolved their speech beyond simple monosyllabic words and grunts. Taella spoke on his behalf. “My Empress, the deserters appear to be content staying within the island confines of Drachenholme. There hasn’t been an attack on our forces in over two weeks. We used this lull in the fighting to send a small task force of Raven’s Eye spies into the fortress to see what they are planning. It would appear their will is not their own, and they are possibly following the commands of an outside force. My spies have heard whispers of someone named Tol-Xivahn, a name we’ve heard in conjunction with the onset of the Creeping Darkness in the south.”

                “You think the drachen rebellion and the Creeping Darkness are related in some way?” Meredith asked.

                Vrok nodded in affirmation. “Vrok has theorized that the drachen were persuaded to leave the Imperium by this Tol-Xivahn, which leads us to believe that he or she is incredibly powerful, possibly an Old God,” Taella spoke for Vrok. “This also leads us to believe that this Tol-Xivahn may have had something to do with the disappearance of the last dragons.”

                Meredith looked on in disbelief. “An Old God? I’ve read the scrolls taken from Sol Arcanum, and I’ve seen the history books on the Forgeworks, but I’ve never seen mention of Tol-Xivahn.”

                “We’re still looking into it, your grace. Just know that this is an incredibly powerful enemy we are possibly dealing with,” Taella concluded.

                It was indeed troubling to the Empress. Before the current pantheon took power in Arcadia, it was believed that old, malevolent gods ruled the world. This was before men, lhyr, bruinfolk, and other intelligent races settled these lands. Only the dragons would have been old enough to witness the demise of these ancient beings, and even they kept their secrets about such things. “Continue your investigations and report back once you have evidence set in stone.”

                “Your grace,” she bowed. Vrok did the same.

                Meredith turned to her treasurer. “Do you have anything to add, Estus?” She appeared annoyed and immediately regretted the tone she’d taken. Estus was a good man. He had stuck with the Imperium through thick and thin. His wife, Gayle, passed on more than ten seasons ago, so he spent most of his time here, poring over records and taking account of anything and everything of value to the Vekh line. “I apologize, Estus. Please, if you have anything to report.”

                Pleased with the apology, Estus nodded; a hint of a smile formed under his bushy beard and mustache. “Your grace, we haven’t any outstanding debts or favors owed to anyone, and therefore the treasury coffers haven’t been touched.”

                “I sense a ‘however’ coming,” the Empress added wryly.

Estus briefly wavered. “Ah, however, the cities and townships to the south are still awaiting shipments of food. A vessel, bound for Skjovamiir, set out from Gadrin Harbor three days ago. Apparently, some shadow-touched abominations made their way aboard and killed all but one man who was able to escape on one of the longboats. The food and leathers we were to receive never made it. Suffice to say, I’m afraid trade with the Free Cities from our southern and southeast holdings will be impossible until we can staunch this darkness.”

Meredith let out a deep breath. It was no wonder her father turned tail and left the country. Things were falling apart all around her. The Imperium she knew as a young child was no more. What she ruled was a husk of its former self. “Send a convoy to Gallineux along with the soldiers Elder Bristlebane promised. Fill wagons with as much barley, beef, and vegetables as they can hold. My people will not go hungry.”

Her uncle smiled, but Taella and Estus appeared to be concerned. “The people here in the city won’t be happy with this,” Estus finally admitted.

“Then they can grab a shovel or hoe and start sowing oats and grains. Otherwise, they can pick up a sword and shield and defend what’s left of our empire.” Meredith stood, her blood boiling. “You’re all dismissed,” but she paused. “Taella, Agar-Osh, with me.”

“Your grace,” the others said somewhat in unison before bowing and dismissing themselves from the war room. Meanwhile the spymistress and aging bruinfolk diplomat shambled up to their Empress and sat flanking her.

Meredith produced a rolled scroll from a hidden pocket in her fur-lined coat. The two looked on in curiosity as she produced another. One scroll was handed to Taella and the other to Agar-Osh. “Taella, have one of your people relay this plea for assistance to the leaders of the Free Cities of Sohm. They will be gathering at Sjordholm for one of two annual moots within a fortnight. I wish for one of your people to be there requesting aid. Agar-Osh, I ask of you to do the same,” she said, handing him the second scroll. “I would have you bring this message to someone in Timberpaw and have them travel through the Dragonspire Pass under a banner of peace. They must be taken to Elendria and brought before King Vayne to request help.”

Young Meredith turned and looked at the walls of the war room. All around were trophies of the victories of her forebears. Their reigns had just begun when they collected these objects. The Imperium was strong and nigh unstoppable. And now the world was crumbling all around her. The only living relative she had (apart from Uncle Harlan) was her mother, who was only a Vekh by marriage, and even her mother’s health waned. Meredith was the last of their great line, and desperate times called for desperate measures. She turned to face her trusted advisors.

“For too long has the Imperium been thought of as the monsters who have come to pillage and conquer. I want the world to know that we are not their enemies. We need allies if we are to preserve our own way of life, and it starts here and now.”

Agar-Osh and Taella kneeled. “Yourrr grrrace,” the bruin growled.

“Your will be done,” Taella confirmed.

The two left the war room. It suddenly felt much colder now. Meredith pulled her coat tighter around her chest. Old Gods, cursed lands full of blight, rebellions. The world she knew was rapidly changing before her eyes, and all she could do was beg for aid. “All-Mother guide me. Give me the strength to save my people.”