Vote: Short Story Competition

[GoldenKitten]

Alright, three stories. The initial plan was to engage in a ladder style tournament but with the poor turn out we will just be voting on all three entries at once. With that said please read all the stories before making your choice, if that requires you to make several visits over a day or more then so be it but please do not vote until you have read each one, it isn't much of a vote if you just pick randomely or choose because its the only one you read. Similarly I have not placed the authors names next to their respective entry to avoid bias, regardless many of you have been here for quite a while and might recognize the styles certain individuals use. Regardless please do not vote based on who wrote the stories but rather which one is the best.

Thanks allot and have a great day, depending on how quickly we see results the voting will be closed between one and two weeks from today.

If you want to speak about any of the stories please use the initial “Short Story Competition” thread, I have locked posting here so that only voting is possible.

[GoldenKitten]

Forest of Dreams

The day was still young, barely halfway to noon, and as long as she was gone for the week, nobody could tell me what to do. Curiosity often got the best of me, and this was no exception as I hopped over the small wooden fence in the back yard and into the forest despite Grandma warning against it time and time again. It was like nothing I had ever imagined when I was told I was forbidden to venture off alone into these woods, haunted supposedly, instead it seemed not only beautiful, but peaceful too.

There was a small, trickling stream of water that danced over the rocks and fallen leaves that made the bed of a shallow river that ran through the house's property so I knew that if I followed it I could make my way home no problem. My bare feet soaked in the soggy leaves and I felt shivers as chilly water licked my ankles, as if tugging at my legs to go deeper in. I walked out of the long, flowing puddle and onto warm, dry land, and wandered further through the tall, moss-encrusted trees while listening to the brittle crunch of dead leaves under my dripping soles. Looking up and around, my eyes and ears are taken by the sights and sounds of this place that has been with me my entire life but not once I've ever experienced this personally.

The infinite shades of green filtering out the hot gaze of the sun, draping the world in a warm emerald glow that keeps me cozy like I were wrapped up in a soft, gentle blanket of light. I notice the squealing buzz of far-off insects in the prime of their lives, calling out to one another, in search of companionship and fulfillment of their life's sole purpose asides from becoming some bird's lunch, whom I can hear many chirping and merrily tweeting away their joyful songs of freedom and happiness, almost calling my name and daring me to follow. The sweet aroma of decaying foliage and blooming blossoms slyly crept into my nostrils and started playing games with my head, I start to lose track of time and where I am.

By the time I realize I've wandered away from the stream, I nearly panic out of fear of being lost, but I see a clearing in the trees giving way to a most welcome and familiar sight. From the edge of a small cliff I can see the small house in the clearing below that was my home, as tiny and drab as it had ever been ever since I was forced to live with Grandma after Dad disappeared two years ago, but for the first time I was able to see just how drab the place really was, more of just a nice shanty compared to the large, gleaming white house I had lived in with Dad for my whole decade-long lifespan prior. I had no desire to go back to that run-down shack with the nagging old bird always harping at me and constantly making me do chores like I was some sort of cheap slave laborer instead of the only family she had left.

I turned briskly, and marched deeper into the woods, a high air about me, I deserved better than what that cranky, neglecting old fossil could offer me. I found my way back to the river, and continued my pilgrimage deeper and deeper into this new world, staring far ahead as I saw a large clearing from which I could see a bright, enchanting light that took hold of me and reeled me in by the earthly greens and browns of my hazel irises. Upon approaching the light, I find myself face to face with a massive, majestic-looking stag, its fur as white as the reflection of the sun in the water from which it drank, its antlers as jagged and weaving as the branches on the ancient grey-trunked trees which seemed to circle around it as if in worship of the mighty beast's glorious presence. I stared it in the eyes for what must have been forever before telling myself,

“This must be a dream, I wish I'll never wake up.”

Almost as if in response, the silver buck snorted, shaking its head as if in reply to my prayers, and slowly trotted away deeper into the paradise I had discovered. At that point, a ghostly, but comforting fog began to bleed from the trees and engulfed my body and mind, telling me to lay down and let the world's problems fade away into nothingness. It spoke, and I listened, laying my tired, weakening body on the soft grassy surface, my eyes becoming heavier and heavier as clouds of swirling pale mist that snuffed out the golden shine of the sun itself pinned me to the ground like gravity itself suddenly skyrocketed. I started dozing away into the domain of sleep, the perfect dream collapsing on itself until only a horrific nightmare would stand in its place.

It was all black, total abysmal darkness that swallowed me whole and consumed my body and mind and soul. I could feel no pain or comfort, warmth or sadness, only a most primitive, instinctual and human fear of the unknown that gripped my body and held me tightly in it's cold, long fingers. Suddenly, I could feel the hands of the shadows loosen and I slipped away into a free fall descent towards the bottom of my heart. The tepid sensation of sinking in a thick, viscous puddle sent jolts through my entire body as I shot upright, the forest floor no longer soft and cushion-like but instead hard and bumpy, yet above the stony floor I was sitting in a large pool of putrid, foul muck that overflowed from the pond from which the animal drank from.

My eyes buried in the back of my skull with the heavy cloud of dry air impairing my vision. I stood up, tripping over uprooted vines and branches in the ground that clung to my pants like an infectious disease, trying hopelessly to find my bearings. All I could see was the dark smoke that reeked of charcoal and violent destruction, and small glowing balls of eerily floating flame that lit my path and it was impossible to discern if it were night or day. I could hear my breath, coarse and taxing, cut through the silent forest along with the grinding of bones as I took every step, when suddenly the deafening caw of a pair of crows cackled above only to be drowned out by the deep, thunderous croak of a giant raven perched directly ahead of me. The feathered, flying devil took flight on monstrous wings of violet ebony as I approached, following the lights that guided me deeper into hell.

I tried to make my way back to the cliff I had seen the house from earlier, but each step more tenuous than the last as the muddy, sludgy ground below my feet began to harden as if trying to trap me forever to become a new tree in this forsaken place. I forced my legs to pull, finally freeing from the sucking grip of the ground. Upon the lookout I watched below to what was where the house was supposed to be, only to see the bellowing plume of coal-tinted smoke rising from the fiery pit that was in its place, and standing by it the giant buck, it's massive antlers twirling with the flames of the underworld itself. It disappeared for a moment and in a heartbeat I could hear a loud, sour breathed grunt behind me and feel the icy, painful breathing against my back.

I slowly turned, eyes fixed in terror as my eyes let the gruesome, vile fiend come into focus. It's bloody red eyes and rotting yellow teeth drenched with blood and saliva glaring at my trembling body, it's fur short and patchy ripped out in tufts, skin singed by blackening flames. I stared deep and long into it's eyes, unable to blink or glance away in fear that this cruel effigy of all that was sick and tainted would engulf me in madness and devour me whole. It lowered it's massive, demonic head and approached me, an empty, hollow voice scratching and clawing away at my eardrums from the inside. It grunted,

“You have yet to learn the true joys of life. Why do you come here, taking with you into this most precious of paradises the miseries and regrets of your family, the pain of what is lost and spite of what is so?”

I couldn't help but let the sharp, jagged words of the beast stab deep into my chest and through my barely beating heart, warming it up and injecting a small dosage of motivation.

“Stop living in pain of what is then, and instead enjoy what is now and look forward to what has yet to be.”

At that moment, everything around me, the swirling, twisting and contorting world I was trapped inside began to slow to a sudden halt. Time stood still as from deep within I felt a tiny warmth grow larger and larger until I could see my own skin begin to glimmer a faint, warm and cordial radiance that cut through the fog, shattering the dark grey bark of the trees and dissolving the nostalgic grime below my feet into a clean pond of clear, pure water that began to recess back to the pond itself. The lifeless, pale sky began to clear and resemble the latest hours of the night, a starry sky casting a silver veil over the thin, papery leaves and cold, moist earth and the colossal, fetid mammal began to disintegrate into a million tiny freckles of starlight. I felt my body become weak, and I collapsed on the forest floor yet again, once more being surrounded in total darkness, but this time I felt not a single trace of fear or anguish, only the relaxing, serene caress of the morning sun against my dirt-stained, chalky-peach skin.

As I looked up I could see the most beautiful little cottage in a faraway clearing. This tiny, quaint box of old and faded timbers was my home, where I had to call home because the past would never return, so I listened to the soft, dawn songs of the birds for once more, and took off like the wind, barreling down the steep hillside until I reached the fence to the large yard out back and soared over top in a single bound worthy of an Olympic athlete. I was glad to be back home, but still I'd have a few days to myself before Grandma would could home, perhaps I would go back into the woods tomorrow, and this time only bring with me the eagerness to explore and take in the pristine beauty of the world rather than grovel over a mean old lady. Life was young and I had yet to learn how to live, but perhaps in time that would be able to change.

[GoldenKitten]

Roseate Offering

As I stare out over the ceaseless plains before me, beyond the far towering crags that glow a deep purple in the waning light a powerful font can be seen. The land that stands between here and there hides its source but the byproduct is clear and the myths are plenty. Of a pink hue the stream fires high into the sky in what appears to be a solid pillar before dispersing in the atmosphere in speckles of colored energy, close to the source these speckles come in waves but far away glittering above in the sky where I stand they are but singular bright pinpoints standing amongst maelstroms of light and mass that lay far from this place, across the dark expanse that lies beyond. The geyser is not one of liquid nor in fact, legend says, does it have any mass at all and no pressure is placed on ones body should you ever stand in its midst. Yet whether these tales are true none were ever certain, as none who have ever traveled there have ever returned. It is called Elumina Nelish in the old tongue, the illuminated pedestal. And it is said, it grants any wish you could desire...until fifty years ago though, this spectacle had not been seen in many ages.

The world is forever dark here, which is rather fitting given its fate for I am one of the last, one of the last to remain here. They all disappeared one after another with no ostensible reason for though evil can be found amongst all creatures many of them were as innocent as a could be found in a sentient being and it was not the work of something less precise. It was the work of Elumina Nelish, or so they said before those cryptic “they” themselves fell prey to the calling of the wellspring of fate. So very many longed for their dreams to come true and so one by one they clambered to this far off place which is said to grant your deepest wish, one would have thought that after dozens failed to return it would have been called a forgone conclusion, but it was not. As if operating outside of the realm of logic those making their way to it only increased as the danger followed suit. And then one day there were but hundreds, and then later dozens and then…it was me, me and my sister.

By the time we were born things were well on there way to as you find them now and shortly after my parents succumbed to the same fate as so many others. Thus my sister is precious to me and there can be no substitute. It was through our effort and affection that we managed to survive here and fight the temptation of the calling light, but ten days ago that ended. To my unending horror she fell ill and none of the paltry cures I could dream up took effect, after several weeks in such a state she passed away. My life no longer had meaning, it still does not and so there is only one option left to me, the option so many chose. In this world of emptiness I, as the last living being, head toward the wish granting spring with no concern as to my end fate. There is nothing left for me, there is nothing left of me, if the myths and legends are all false then it will simply rend me to nonexistence and if they are true then even should there be a price as the current state of the world would clearly suggest then I shall pay it.

I began my journey amongst the fields of the Xax’yay where my prior hovel could be found, where the grasses grew tall and in a variety of yellow shades. Should one need any proof that the source of this event was unnatural they need look no further than this expansive grassland. During my trek across the lands I came across dotted camps which had long been abandoned, most fallen into a decrepit state of disrepair that would eventually fade slowly till no sign remained. However it was as I reached the end of this land that the true sign of abnormality was seen, a massive city of tents, many of which still stood strong due to the metal structures on to which they were sutured. They were surrounded by high wooden walls and more over surrounded a large stone fort themselves. Even in this state of constant decay symbols of the Xax’yay felriders still stood tall and pontificated the dire state of the world in doing so. The beast tamers and guides or felriders as they were more commonly called were a species that prized honor and living in the moment above all else, they did not believe in the retrospective or the forthcoming. Yet despite all this their greatest city which once bustled with activity political, trade, entertainment and all has gone dead and all those that once called it home long gone. Many of the beast they raised met their demise after the exodus of their masters and still more now roam these plains as feral monsters.

On through the plains to the craggy shores of the Ink Ocean, an ocean made purely of darkest oils springing from the greatest depths. The saga's state that aeon's ago the Orbvitch tunnelers of old broke into a deep seated reserve through careless digging that sprung forth and flooded the land for a millennium or more to come. Of course their current day, or as current as this world gets, descendants claimed this was all rubbish made up by their enemies and that they nor their ancestors would ever have made such a mistake. An arachnid species with a strange body like those of house-spiders and an even stranger head that could be compared to the foulest crossbreeding of a bovine and avian you could dream up, the Orbvitch were a materialistic race. Their many tunnels and few above ground structures that lined the shores of the Ink Ocean were adorned with all manner of gold, silver and jewels, decorated to not only impress any visiting outsiders but also so that each governing leader of their clans could show his or her superiority to another. It did not surprise me that a species that wanted everything would make the great journey to have their wishes granted and in fact they were one of the first by which the predicament was initially noted as they disappeared with far greater speed than any other, it did however surprise me that such creatures would leave all their old wealth behind in the process. I should perhaps not be to harsh on this matter for if it were not for their great taste of the lavish and their sudden departure from these lands I might have been held up for an indefinite period trying to find my way across the eerily still and silent raven clad sea. Instead I made headway in a boat made of gold and ruby gems whose passenger seats were clearly made for a species not of my dimensions. The concept had long been put forward that there were things within the oil that over thousands of years had evolved to live within it, I might have spotted what appeared to be a fearfully large flipper halfway across the ocean, either way my already speedy passage was slightly enhanced.

Though magical the world did not disobey all natural rules and so the dry but cool dessert and hardened cragland continued for countless miles, but when it did stop it stopped abruptly. The Azure forest began though really such a name was deceiving, the trees came in a rainbow of colors in no particular order and yet other areas were marked by a distinct lack of color as large swaths found themselves dead. There was a common belief that nature and earth spirits lived within the forest and took on forms nobody could explain when outsiders eyes were not looking. Thus this was the one place it was impossible to see change, it was unfeasible to see a difference since the original would have looked all the same and yet even so I knew this forest was empty of any sentient life. Never once did I feel the cold stare of the living apprising the presence of an outsider nor the warm life of someone who had previously been here. If the existence of such beings had ever been a truth then it was a truth no longer, they were but one more casualty of an invisible cataclysm. So I pushed forward, the only one in a forest of rainbows and high above the sky shimmied bright pink as the excess poured out from the energy font and colored the heavens. Soon only one obstacle would stand between me and my objective, but that might have made for two obstacles in truth.

The Azure, or rainbow forest as I had come to consider it soon became a rainbow meadow with sporadic multi-colored trees but quite a bit more rainbow colored grass. One might have thought this was the byproduct of being so close to a powerful magic source as the sky clearly showed that I was approaching but in truth it had always been this way, the forest and meadow had always been here, the Elumina Nelish had not. The multicolored grasses continued on for as long as they could meeting the base of the great towering purple mountains and actually growing up there lengths for quite a way. Standing before these mountains any normal individual would have called it the end, even the smallest of the peaks was ten times higher and sharper than any height most have seen, they reached toward the sky like the bottom jaw of a monstrous creature and yet I never once considered turning back. I suppose a healthy mind would have asked at this point whether this was of my own will to save my beloved sibling or if I perhaps had the whispers of something else in my thoughts now but there was no such individual to question such things, least of all myself. And so I walked as far as the grasses stretched, and then I grasped the first rocky outcropping of the giant bluffs, within a hundred meters the razor rock had already set my hands to bleeding and yet I did not notice for quite a time.

On the lower stretches of rock there were signs of what had once been life. So far away my knowledge of whom might have lived here had faltered at this point but it was clear who, or whatever, they might have been they were agile and solitary. Tall three story buildings were braced against the vertical bluffs with no paths between them just sheer cliff walls and most were spaced at great distances from one another. They had long gone dark and none of the many candles or lanterns adorning the structures were lit and it was clear that even these beings had found themselves tempted quite a while ago, I was not sure if proximity to the Elumina Nelish strengthened its call but it made perfect sense to me though of course by now such thoughts were whispers in what was left of my aware self. I might have considered it interesting that from the rich and materialistic spider-kin of the ocean far below to these cliff dwellers in their small ramshackle houses all had a wish and had all disappeared in its pursuit. I soon passed beyond the housing and by this point my hands were raw and the rock was near cutting to the bone and yet as I stared high above at the swirling pink glow I was compelled to go onward while my energy surged, to stop was death and to fall into oblivion, into that abyss would not serve my purposes. Pushing forward I soon found that many of the peaks were adorned with snow but not all and promptly found myself dodging through a maze of powder, shortly I was over the top.

A monument to the dead, that was of course what it had to be though who had taken the time to erect it and who had fought the desire to grant ones wishes so close at hand was beyond me. I knew what they were, the countless skeletons piled high on one of the few flat portions upon the razor sharp mountains, they were the remains of those whose bodies had not rendered them capable of making it here on their own. I stared at them for perhaps a moment longer than I should have and then with a conviction not to become like those sad souls I rushed across to the other side, ready to begin scaling my way down. But when I got there I had to cease my movement as my jaw nearly fell agape in comical fashion as I finally lay eyes upon my destination. For all the strange sights available in the world this surely ranked amongst the highest. A torrential rain of pink energy rose out of the ground and shot into the air, though from far away it was but a thin pencil at this distance it was clear that the font was many miles in diameter, the energy was more condensed in the center to the point it was to bright to look at. Once the shock had worn off I threw my battered and beaten shoes off, the rocks already having chewed through the bottoms and began my painful but rapid descent down the cliff face. But the sheer lack of anything worth noting and the now near undeniable pull to reach the geyser saw this no longer than a half hour affair.

The land at the base of the cliffs and amongst the Elumina Nelish valley was not dead but neither was it springing upward with life. The ground was lightly patched with tough and hardy but short grasses, blowing tumbleweeds and not much else but my attention would only be on such features for the shortest time. Instead my eyes were drawn to the spiraling energy before me and as I took sobered steps one by one toward the center I soon found this energy coming out of the ground just below my feet. If in the way this energy would quickly spin around where I rested and then shot off into nothingness, it had no mass nor did it feel of temperature. Though one might technically have said they had been to the font at this point the pull forced my feet toward the condensed pillar of energy and with every step I sped up despite my injuries until my movements were hardly my own. Nor did it seem was my consciousness for one moment I was rushing across the valley toward the pillar and the next I found myself breaching its edge, for an instant I worried that it might burn me but I had touched it before I could stop and just as the smaller particles before it was as if touching nothing. So taking a deep breath, perhaps some of my lingering fears made manifest even through the strength of my convictions, I took a step forward and entered the realm of wishes.

It was not as expected, the moment I passed through the wall it was as if shades had descended upon my eyes and everything was made clear to me. There was only one object standing amongst the pillar of magic and I made my way to it, knowing what awaited the entire way. It was what it had always claimed to be, a pedestal of pure white and with an old book sitting upon it. One could clearly tell without knowing quite how they understood that whatever you wished would be inscribed upon this book and granted, perhaps it was the now clear voices in the back of the mind that were somehow easy to ignore that gave this knowledge. Either way I knew what had to be done, I knew how it was done, and perhaps scarily enough I knew what was given for it to be done and I had no worries about what I was going to do. I reached out and grasped the pedestal and I spoke my wish like millions of others, unable to fight the words in the back of their head despite knowing that what it would cost them and that their wish would never serve them.

It required an offering.

Of course I was acceptant of that, I just prayed as I made my offering that my sister never fell pray to the same. But why? Why as she manifest before me as I so wished does she look so sad? Why does she look so prepared to do whatever it takes to save me? It all started to make sense then, why everyone disappears, and never comes back. After all I cannot have been the first to make this wish, so why did those wished to life never return? It is...I believe because this is the end, it is the voices that even now speak in the back of my head, that I am sure will soon be speaking in the back of my sisters mind. They tell me that her wish will fall on deaf ears for one taken by the pedestal will not be given up, but her offering will certainly be appreciated. Elumina Elish, it grants only one wish, its own.

Victory was delivered this day, though to whom I cannot say. But now my world grows dark and my greatest fear consumes me, for there is nobody left now, and it is all over.

[GoldenKitten]

THE HEIR

Gil-Leon de LaVaal was 17 years old. He was hale and hardy, standing at a goodly six feet. He had the trim figure of youth, attractive features, a light complexion, long brown hair and dark chocolate eyes. Gil was 17 years old. And frequently bored. He was bored because he was sensible, which was the worst thing a 17 year old could be if he wanted to have anything interesting to happen.

Its not that his life was boring, per se, in terms of details, it was fairly unusual. Gil was the heir-apparent to the empire of Aernes, an empire that had not existed a decade and a half ago. The Emperor, Gil's father, had been particularly ambitious. Ambition was the second most necessary trait to arrive at Emperor ship when you started as a farm hand. The first most desirable would be credulity straining dumb luck. Those types (and in the history of a land that by its very nature strained credulity, there had been some) tended to be unsuccessful once they got a throne.

No, Gil's father did it the old fashioned way: a level-head, an iron fist, and a knife in the back (as appropriate). He had CONQUERED his way into empire-ship, ruthlessly dominating all that came in his path. It started with the local children, then as he grew older to the local adults, then pubs, and eventually towns, cities, fiefs, kingdoms... it was a fairly natural progression, all-in-all. The methods were mostly the same at any rate.

But the thing that carried him through it all was his sensibility, of which he had in abundance. If Gil knew what he was missing, he would have cursed this particular inheritance.

This sensibility meant that in his personal life, the Emperor had been fairly low key, in contrast to the theatrical tyranny that conquest often required. And so, in lieu of a harem of women that naturally accumulated in empire-building, he had a quiet ceremony wedding him with a lovely and agreeable sort of woman who supported his career choice and preferred to stay out of the spotlight. She was also an excellent conversationalist, or so Gil had been told.

Gil was an only child. This had been intentional. Though the Emperor had a perfectly satisfactory sexual relationship with his wife thank-you-very-much, he had arranged for a minimally invasive procedure be done by a trusted wizard to insure he would not have an excessive number of claimants to the throne. He had been forward thinking like that. The child lived with his mother for a period of 2 years, and then had been given to the care of trusted (and more importantly retired) supporters who raised him with all due respect and care, until at the age of 7 he had been sent to board at a magic academy.

His heritage had of course been kept on the 'down low', and the next decade had passed with minimal incident. Gil was a good student. He was polite, well spoken, and unlike most super genius prodigies, he kept the egotism at the low roar that was considered professionally appropriate for a Mages. After all, what was the point of commanding the fundamental forces of the universe if didn't have fun every once in awhile?

Gil had his distractions. He made good pocket change from his peers by being a steady supplier of 'potions' with a questionably high alcohol content. He would participate in common mage games (most of which boiled down to 'who can produce the most egregious offense of the natural laws of reality'). And every once in a while, he would try his hand at romance.

He was much better at sins against reality. It did impress the girls, but it didn't usually cede well into flirtation.

Though there HAD been that Rahs Kurade boy. How did the line go? 'Nice rift in time/space, wanna fuck?'

After some study and experimentation, Gil safely concluded that he hadn't the delivery to make that one work.

The most success he had had was when a female member of the faculty (one Lady Kerik) had been hoping to score some 'potions' and had offered to pay with... non-standard... 'currency'. He had been too embarrassed to accept, and had given up his wares gratis. He would regret this from time to time, but the expressions the woman would give him on the occasions they crossed paths convinced him that the regret was ENTIRELY because he had been cleaned out of alcohol, and ONLY for that reason. For reals.

Ultimately, these were distractions. He would putt along through the academic year, do his thing, and on the holidays (notably 'Glory to our Exalted Emperor'-Day) would be secreted to the Imperial Palace where he would have a pleasant dinner with his father.

Gil knew his father was a smart man, but he couldn't fathom why the Emperor liked antagonizing his populace so much. In fact, while his wars of conquest had been brilliantly executed, and his unification of the component nations, principalities and kingdoms of his Empire had been both carried out with utmost care and consideration, once he had become secure in his position, the Emperor had acted like a downright prick.

He had asked him about this on more than one occasion. His father had responded thusly:

'You should know, you're a Mage! What's the point of power if you can't enjoy it?'

Gil had no choice but to accept that mentality from his fellow Mages, but he couldn't accept it from his father. His father was supposed to be SENSIBLE.

He had, at first, believed that his father's antagonism had been to bait the most disgruntled (and organized) members of the old regimes and crush them.

His father certainly did so, but the antagonism continued long after all his legitimate enemies were dead. At this point, his father was creating problems where once there was none. So-called 'Heroes' had been popping up all over the place. Though the brutal efficiency with which his father crushed them had reduced the practice to a trickle.

Though there was this new hero, supposedly some swordsman from some nothing town, who had been gathering supporters and somehow managed to evade his father's efforts to destroy him. It was occasionally talked about amongst his peers, but Academy policies (undoubtedly influenced by the Emperor) meant that news got to students very slowly, if it all. Gil would routinely learn more about the Empire at large at his family dinners than he would throughout the rest of the year. He could stay better informed, but it was too much a bother to circumvent the preventative magics in place.

So on this particular day, Gil's boredom was ended when, upon emerging from his quarters, he heard in hundreds of voices, some hushed, some jubilant, the one thing he never expected to here.

'The Emperor is Dead!'

Gil reeled momentarily, before grabbing, literally and abruptly, a passing underclassman.

'What do you mean, dead?' Gil asked the boy.

This particular boy made no effort to conceal his joy, which overrode the shock of his sudden apprehension.

'The Emperor's dead! Edmund killed him! Edmund the hero!' The boy said, misinterpreting Gil's surprise for hope.

Gil dropped the boy in shock. This 'Edmund' had been the hero that had been spoken of lately. He had somehow killed his father! This was, of course, impossible. Sure, there were plenty of people who wanted to kill his father... but none of them could actually pull it off, surely.

The boy was long gone by the time Gil had come back to reality. In his place was an unfamiliar man. He was an inch or so shorter than Gil himself, though he carried himself with enough confidence to make Gil the smaller man. He was dressed in the manner of one of his father's personal servants.

'So it's true.' Gil stated. This man's presence killed his disbelief.

'Young Master, I am Carmine LeStrada. For years I have been your father's loyal retainer. I am here to escort you to the capital.' The man stated simply, seemingly uninterested in the death of his lord.

'I know of you, Sir.' Gil fell back on his memory and manners, 'My father spoke well of you. And that, in fact, you were his friend and confidant long before my father merited something so lofty as a retainer.'

'You do me much honor,' The man smiled, 'but we must be going, Young Master. If you have any immediate need for any of your possessions, please retrieve them. The rest will be sent for.'

'I don't need anything.' Gil said taking the lead through the corridors of the Academy, 'I take it the necessary Academy authorities have been briefed?' He asked.

'Of course.' LeStrada replied, keeping pace. 'Lady Kerik sends her regards.'

Gil stifled whatever it was that tried to escape him. He fell behind a step, and had to accelerate to catch up once more.

'Notably, she used slightly more descriptive language than 'regards'.'

Gil's eyes narrowed as he looked at Carmine LaStrada more carefully. His bearing was impeccable.

'You... you're right bastard aren't you?' Gil asked.

A tiny crack, nay, a fissure, of a smile appeared on Carmine's face.

'I aim to please, Young Master.' Carmine said.

'But why at a time like this?' Gil asked.

'Why, because your father's alive, of course.' Carmine said, his mouth breaking out into a terrible toothy grin.

Gil stopped in his tracks.

'Hurry now.' Carmine said playfully.

Travel was of course, a simple matter. A carriage took them clear of Academy grounds. Free of the Academy's many, many protections, the accompanying Mage, also a retainer to the Emperor, simply tore reality a shapely new orifice which would conveniently deposit just outside the limits of the Aernes Empire's Capital, appropriately named 'The City of Aernes'.

Carmine, the Mage, and the driver refused to say a word to Gil. They were enjoying the sight of Gil squirming with unanswered questions. Unfortunately for the boy, the Capital was full of celebration, and travel was maddeningly slow. He took to speaking to himself.

'Congratulations dad.' He announced snidely as he looked out of the carriage. 'You lived a worthy life of wisdom and mercy, and your subjects rightly mourn your passing.'

Carmine gave him another wicked smile.

'So if my father is 'dead' what will happen to the empire?' Gil asked, half to himself.

Carmine obliged him with an answer. 'His only heir will naturally be placed on the throne.'

'Ah, it talks.' Gil muttered sarcastically, 'And I suppose our hero, darling of the people, will allow this?'

Carmine declined to answer, and continued smiling.

Gil gave up. Surely he could twist time around in a fashion that would allow him to skip the tedium. He passed the time puzzling out how to make such a thing possible. It kept him occupied long enough.

The carriage deposited Gil and Carmine a decent ways from the palace. This was sensible. Simply pulling up to the front gates would attract the wrong sort of attention.

'Underground passage' Carmine stated simply, gesturing to the unremarkable building in front of them, 'You can stop making that face. We'll be there in 10 minutes.'

Gil was mildly embarrassed. It was still early morning and the day had already wrecked merry havoc with his usual composure.

10 minutes. A reasonable amount to skip.

-

Gil blinked.

He was in the palace.

'A success.' Gil announced to himself quietly.

'What was that Young Master?' Carmine asked.

'Nothing.' Gil replied. 'Where is my father?'

'The dining room, of course.' Carmine answered. He added, 'Though he has more company than you are used to. You may want to change.'

Gil frowned. Delay after delay.

'When am I expected?' Gil asked.

'You have about half an hour.' Carmine offered.

-

'Good.' Gil announced. He was impeccably dressed. Robes, as appropriate to his profession, but of a more lordly variety. The cut and design were similar to those of his father's personal Mages, though of a finer quality.

'Young Master?' Carmine asked.

'Nothing.' Gil suppressed a smile. He noticed a servant waiting in front of him, 'I am ready to be announced.'

The servant nodded, and entered the dining room before them. Gil stepped apace and waited.

'Now announcing Gil-Leon de LaVaal, Magus of the 10th rank, Heir to Aernes!' The servant boomed.

Gil stepped forward, and surveyed the room.

The modest table he usually shared with his father was missing. In its place was a grand affair, holding two dozen men, with his father, alive and well, at its head. On the opposite end of the table was the only empty seat. Gil moved toward it. His father stood and cut him off.

'Fa- Your Grace?' Gil questioned.

His father closed and embraced Gil strongly. Gil was perturbed. The Emperor was not a bad father, but he had never been... affectionate. The Emperor turned to the congregation, one arm still around Gil.

'My Son. The new Emperor.' he said proudly. Those in attendance clapped, some cheered. The Emperor turned back to Gil. 'Son, do you want the long version or the short version?'

'The short version, Your Grace...' Gil said, still perturbed.

'Edmund, please stand up!' The Emperor announced.

'Your Grace!' a man stood, shouting enthusiastically. He raised a goblet to the father and son.

'Edmund the hero?' Gil asked, confused.

'MY son.' Carmine announced from the corner of the room.

'But...' Gil began.

'How do you create an empire?' The Emperor asked him.

Gil knew the answer. His father had told him countless times. His father nodded.

'Now then, how do you KEEP an empire?' The Emperor asked.

This one Gil had not been told. You created an empire by conquering disparate peoples and placing them under one banner, creating cohesion through symbolim, law, and as his father had always stressed, infrastructure.

'Even if you have a functioning empire, the constituent parts stay restless until the individual cultural identities are supplanted by the new, common one.' The Emperor began, 'and until then, there's a risk of the empire dissolving around you. The problem is having different peoples see themselves as different, so...'

Gil looked at his father, now officially dead. He looked at Edmund, the 'hero' with the good will of the people, secret ally of the Empire. He looked at the counsel gathered, each, he recognized, as being part of the infrastructure his father considered so important.

And he looked back to his father, still with his arm around him. The father that had spent over a decade pissing off every single subject of his empire. Whose death was celebrated even in the streets of his own capital

'Now then, how do you KEEP an Empire?' The Emperor asked him again.

Realization dawned on the new emperor.

'You... Magnificent Bastard!'