The sun was slowly rising over the high mountain peaks to the east, finally piercing the gloom that had been hanging over the area for the past three days. The rolling hills were strewn with boulders and the majority of the short grass still retained its summer green. The river began to shimmer as the sun fell upon it, snaking its way from north to south. It was running a little low this year, which confused many for there had been substantial rains to the north which had seemed to last forever. A steady, calm wind blew in from the east as if to meet the rising sun, sending ripples across the water and stirring the dust within the streets of the ancient city of
It was said that Haean was the oldest city on the entire continent, having been founded thousands of years before by Lord Tysus Haea, the great engineer and philosopher whom many Haean natives still praised. It was he who had set the four major roads running north and south, east and west from the great keep which stood at the heart of the metropolis. His son, Tysus II, had been responsible for the great feat of surrounding the entire city with a massive curtain wall, which was unparalleled in magnitude and scope at the time. Over time, the populace had grown larger and the town had spread beyond the Old Wall and it slowly became nothing more than another point of interest and pride for the people of the sprawling city.
Through thousands of years, countless wars, famines, plagues and even the Great War and the Wars of the Dragons, the grand old city had survived. Though the surrounding area was rocky, the people were prosperous farmers and the nearby mountains were full of natural resources, allowing trade along the Serpent’s River and multiple land routes to flourish. Its people were intelligent and hardworking, some having been at their craft for many generations. It was for these reasons and more that Aton Paredes, Great Lord of the East, had chosen to make it his home.
The man stood atop the tallest tower of the Haean Keep, staring off into the rising sun. He was a tall, handsome man with short, auburn hair that laid about his head in small curls and large eyes the color of olives. He had a wide forehead and a narrow jaw, with a thin-lipped mouth that always seemed to be a moment away from smiling. He was thin with lanky arms and legs that belied their true strength, which were currently covered in supple brown leather. His pants disappeared just below the knee into his high boots and his sleeves were pulled up past his elbows so that his skin could feel the morning chill. With a resounding sigh, he turned away from the sun and took a sip of wine from the ornate silver goblet in his hand.
“Do you see, my lords, the beauty of my empire? Look around you, please. This city is the embodiment of my plans for the world!” He took another drink, this one slightly deeper than the one before. He waved his hands about in a grand sweeping gesture and said, “Haean has always been and will always be a place of greatness. It is a doorway into the future if we but take the time to see. All within the world will one day live in such splendor, you mark my words, gentlemen. Tell me, Matthias, how go our campaigns in the west?”
Matthias was a man seemingly out of place in the world. Where the other three men upon the tower were tall and regal; he was short and modestly dressed. A mild scowl settled upon his face as Aton spoke and only deepened when asked to report.
“The men across the Watchguard are more resilient than you had hoped, my lord. New casualty reports return every day and the few victories we can claim are in the field and lack substance. I fear that-”
“Once we have consolidated the East, we will be able to put more force onto the westerners. The southern territories should bow the knee by next year’s thaw and we will be able to marshal our entire force in the West.”
“With due respect, my lord, why do we continue the fight if you do not expect victory? We are only wasting men.”
Aton waved a hand as if Matthias’s questions were nonsense. “We fight them to bloody them. Half of them have fallen back to their ancient pagan ways and the others are stubborn beyond reason. They have too much pride in their royal families and great heroes. And more importantly, Matthias, I want them to be aware of me. Let them see that I can send wave after wave of spear and sword into them without blinking. It will weaken their resolve.”
Matthias sighed and looked to the two men standing beside him for support. To his left was Tysus Rosce, who had recently held the lordship of Postram before swearing fealty to Aton. The man was as cold as stone and didn’t say a word unless commanded to, giving him an air of pretentiousness. To his right was another Tysus, this one of the Wachiv family, who had also held a lordship somewhere in the south, the name of which Matthias had forgotten. If Rosce seemed to be pretentious, there was no mistaking it with Wachiv. His head was constantly held high, a sneer fixed in place for any who got in his way. Both, for some reason Matthias hadn’t completely come to understand, were completely loyal to Aton. With a sigh, he realized that he would find no support from them.
He took a moment to compose his thoughts before he responded, hiding the action by adjusting his soft green tunic. Though Matthias felt out of place, he had also been a lord; one of higher rank than any other upon the tower, truth be told. Until recently, he had held court over the city of
It now seemed like little more than a dream, having happened a thousand years ago. Aton had put a quarter of the population to death before accepting its surrender and placing a regional governor over the city. Matthias had been forced to stand beside the Great Lord and watch his people murdered one by one.
These thoughts began to rage in his mind and his anger began to grow. As if sensing this, however, Aton suddenly spoke once more. He said, “My lords, I am sure that you each have much to do today, as I do, as well. My Lord Rosce, Wachiv, please come with me and provide your reports as we walk. Matthias, my friend, you are dismissed.” Without word of response, Aton turned and walked toward the door leading down from the tower top, the two lords following closely behind. Matthias, not desiring to walk with the others, waited a moment before starting down the stairs, as well.
He made his way to the Small Kitchen which was reserved for the lords and ladies living within the various towers of the enormous keep. As he rounded the corner and walked through the door, the smell of fresh bread assailed him and he took a moment to soak it in. It was a wondrous smell that brought back a thousand memories of his childhood in the halls of Qam’s keep. It reminded him of his wife, long dead, who had always desired to cook, despite that fact that she was terrible at it. The smell of burning bread filled their chambers as she offered her lord husband some food. He had always loved the experiences and eaten the bread energetically, despite tasting like ash.
Matthias shook his head as he walked up to the cook’s counter. This was not the time to start thinking about his wife and Qam. “Goro, my man, the aroma of your bread has pulled me away from the Great Lord himself, so hungry am I.” He chuckled as Goro, the master chef of the Small Kitchen, waddled off to prepare a plate. Matthias found himself a seat and had to wait no more than a moment before a tall, slender girl of no more than fifteen came walking out with his food. She placed his food down before him and turned back to the kitchen doors with a wink. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, musing over why a fifteen-year-old would be winking at a man nearing his fifty-third birthday.
His plate, besides holding half a loaf of fresh bread, had also come with two jams of some sort, an apple cleanly sliced, a small pile of grapes and a large wedge of cheese. Beside it the girl had placed a glass of red wine. Matthias took a drink of the wine and swirled it about in his mouth as he thought of what his duties for the day would entail. He needed to check the clerks and see if any new casualty reports had arrived during the night. He also needed to venture out past the city to the recently arrived caravan and see how many horses they had brought for purchase. He chuckled once more as he realized how quickly he had grown accustomed to his new position as Aton’s man. He had to admit that the Great Lord had a way of making you follow him.
The sun was well above the distant mountains by the time Matthias finished his plate and returned to his duties. When he checked the small desk within his modest chamber, he was pleased to see that only two casualty reports had come during the night and neither spoke of high numbers. Sometimes the reports he received infuriated him. What angered him even more, however, was the fact that Aton would periodically shrug of the death of hundreds of his own men. The Great Lord seemed to have only a passing interest in the lives of others, as long as his continued to go swimmingly.
Matthias leaned back in his chair and stared at the door. His entire face wrinkled as he placed his hands behind his head. A nagging presence in his mind kept knocking as if trying to remind him that it was there. He couldn’t put a finger on what it was, but he knew that it centered upon Aton. How was it that the man could inspire such loyalty? I watched him kill a quarter of my own people and yet I find myself occasionally jumping to do his bidding. He had no explanation for it, so he quickly rose to his feet once more and headed for the door. He had a man to see about some horses.
He and his steed had made it to the eastern gate in the Old Wall before he was stopped by a boy running up behind him. “Milord, the Great Lord wishes to see you. He said…” the boy said, taking a moment to catch his breath. “He said that if I found you within the hour he would reward me.”
Matthias smiled and patted the boy’s head. “I shall tell him that you completed your task most admirably. Thank you.”
Though he spoke cordially enough, the truth was the old man was somewhat perturbed by this new summons from Aton. The Great Lord was well aware of what Matthias was doing today and he didn’t enjoy being interrupted; a holdover from his time as Lord of Qam. With what was perhaps his hundredth sigh for the day, he turned his horse around and began the trip back to the keep. Though he hadn’t been out for more than a few moments, when he dismounted at the eastern stables he could feel his legs cramping and a pain creeping into his lower back. I’m getting old, this is ridiculous.
He slowly made his way to Aton’s favorite audience chamber, which was located about halfway up the keep. Matthias had a feeling that he had picked this particular room because he wanted people to feel like they needed to work to see him. That’s how he always felt once he got there, anyway.
“What do you mean he’s not here?” Matthias asked the steward standing next to the door.
“The Great Lord of the East is not here, milord. I was told to inform you that he could be found where last you had seen him.”
Matthias rolled his eyes and turned back toward the stairs. If he had been displeased before, he was almost fuming by the time he reached the top of the tower. He had only been up there twice and both times were a way for Aton to show his authority over the lords below him. His breathing came in quick, deep gasps and sweat stained his brow despite the prevailing chill. He paused for a moment, trying to wipe the sweat away and appear at least partially presentable. He then took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Matthias’s first impression was that Aton had spent the majority of the morning changing clothes. The man now wore what appeared to be wool spun with gold for it twinkled whenever he moved. Both his vest and a new cape which hung limply from his shoulders were made of the sparkling cloth, though his pants were slightly more humble in nature, being made from white silk and having a modest cut. The same could not be said for the shirt Aton wore beneath his golden vest. It was made from the finest white silk, just like the pants, but that’s where the similarities ended. The sleeves were slashed and flared, causing his arms to appear as though they were bathed in colorless flames. The cuffs flared even more dramatically; with so much fabric hanging from them Matthias was sure an entire set of clothes could be fashioned from them alone. He wore various golden chains, amulets and rings and upon his head he wore his favorite golden circlet with a single diamond set within.
Matthias bowed, attempting to keep his frustration masked. “My lord, you called for me.”
“Yes yes, my friend,” Aton said with a warm smile and a wave as he turned to face the other. “Tell me, did the caravan have any good horses for sale?”
“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I was on my way to the traders when I received your summons. The boy said that you had promised to-”
“That boy is my cousin, Matthias, or perhaps a nephew. It’s hard to keep track of who I’m related to, for everyone wishes to claim a similar lineage as Aton Paredes.” He smiled at that, the sound of his own name seemingly fascinating him. “Well, no matter. We’ll be buying all of their horses regardless of their quality. Actually, I have a mind to requisition everything they came with; to help with the consolidation, of course.”
Matthias had realized early on that Aton Paredes did not fight war, he fought to consolidate mankind. He had been around Aton for months now, yet he could not name a single occasion in which the Great Lord had said the word ‘war.’
“By law, trade caravans are exempt from conflicts and are immune from acts of requisition.” They both knew the law, Matthias knew. He simply still had trouble recalling that his lord didn’t bother following many of them.
“Old laws for an old time, Matthias. The Old Empire has crumbled and gone and so, too, should its laws. Too long have we lived in the shadow of those beast riders. I plan to forge a new destiny for mankind. You will see.” Matthias simply nodded his head weakly, knowing there was no stopping Aton when he began to speak of his utopian future. “Tell me; were there any casualty reports during the night?”
“Only two, my lord, and they were nothing large enough to warrant concern.”
“How many, specifically, died?”
Matthias paused as though he were trying to remember, though in fact he always committed the casualty reports to memory. “One spoke of twenty-two lost somewhere near the Stonewall foothills. The other stated that fourteen men from the naval fleet were thrown overboard during a recent storm.”
A crooked smile came to Aton’s face, then. “Thirty-six men who will not see the New Empire. They were foolish to allow themselves to be killed.”
Matthias had heard many statements like this from Aton before but suddenly he found himself filled with a terrible rage. What sort of monster was the man standing before him? He threw his arms over his head with a grunt, turned his back on the Great Lord and walked to the edge of the tower. He looked down upon the city, filled with people, all possible sacrifices for the Paredes war machine. He whirled around, seemingly taken by an intense madness.
“They were your men! Thirty-six men will not see your New Empire because you throw their lives away! There are nothing more than dust to you. These men willingly suffer through constant torments, fighting and dying so that some westerners know your name!”
Aton stood motionless, a smile fixed upon his face as he listened to Matthias’s words. After the man had finished he continued to stand there for time, just staring at the old lord. The silence became a deafening ring in Matthias’s ears for he desired for Aton to say something, anything. At last, however, Aton broke his silence.
“You have never been a faithful servant, Matthias. I have provided you with countless opportunities to prove yourself worthy of my attention, worthy of my presence. Your name could have lived on within the history books. You could have become my councilor, my steward, my friend. You could have gone on to become a great hero, champion of the consolidation. Perhaps I would have even given Qam back to you. But now what am I to do with you?”
Aton’s words only fueled the fires burning within Matthias and he quickly charged across the tower at the Great Lord, roaring as he came. Aton’s eyes grew large and he wheeled backward a few steps before he regained his composure. He then simply smirked and said, “Kneel.”
The single word seemed to boom and echo throughout the air, tearing into his mind and forcing itself upon him. It was the loudest yet most subtle noise he had ever heard in his entire life. Without even thinking, Matthias dropped to his knees trembling. Aton, shaking his head, slowly walked over to the older man and placed his hand upon his shoulder. Without a word, Matthias felt as though he should stand, to be with his Great Lord and so he did.
Standing now beside him, Aton put his arm around Matthias’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting angry, my friend. The pressures of the duty given to me are immense, you understand. Sometimes, I must admit, it gets to me. But then I look out there,” he said, sweeping his other hand out, meaning to indicate the city below. Aton led Matthias over closer to the ledge so they could look down upon the city.
“It has such potential, doesn’t it? And so much beauty. If only there was some way to harness its energy and unleash it on the world. The consolidation would be over in a matter of moments.” Matthias just stood there looking out over the city, silently agreeing with Aton. He didn’t understand why, but it all appeared so much clearer than before. Perhaps he was under great pressure, as well, and he had to vent his frustrations. He considered himself lucky that Aton was such a good friend.
The thought had no more entered his mind than he felt a hand slam into his back, causing him to stumble forward. The short battlement surrounding the top of the tower caught him in the knee, his momentum continuing to carry him forward. Panic shot through his body as he realized he was going over the edge of the tower. He suddenly stopped, however, as a strong hand grabbed his green tunic. “Thank you, my lord,” he said without even looking.
“Yes, it is a good thing. You are trash, Matthias, and are simply in the way. Goodbye.”
A moment later, Matthias felt the hand release and the wind kiss his face as he went over the edge of the tallest tower of the Haean Keep.
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