The Lavender Letter
Empress Raz’thilda Dawnlance took a quick step to the left, narrowly dodging the oncoming greatsword by a few inches. She barely had time to regain her balance before the heavy weapon came hurtling at her again. She rolled forward, avoiding the attack and bringing herself closer to strike. Rushing ahead with a quick stride, she took advantage of the opening and sprung into the air for an overhead strike. With victory in sight, she allowed herself to smile as she descended.
The sweet taste of triumph was all too suddenly replaced with surprise as she saw movement in the corner of her eye. A chainmail gauntlet flashed through her field of vision and shot upwards to block the attack. She felt cold metal clench around her wrists as her movement was suddenly halted. A second passed before she was cast aside with tremendous force.
Her mouth was now filled with the flavor of dirt and grass, an unpleasant change from the confidence she had recently enjoyed. It had taken a long time for the unrelenting assault to slow down to a point where she could take control; the loss of an opportunity to attack was not to be taken lightly. As she hopped back to her feet, she quickly scanned her surroundings with the hopes of finding a more favorable angle of approach.
As expected, it seemed that her options were sorely limited. She stood on a featureless square of grass surrounded by stone columns. The empty room beyond was illuminated by the light that came in from the opening above. It would have been strategically advantageous to dart between the columns, but the terms of her battle were very clear: first blood in the training courtyard. That is how it always was, and she was not about to give up on a rare victory.
From her position at the edge of the courtyard, there was no easy way to approach her target. In the center, a woman clad in light armor swung her greatsword to begin another onslaught. It was clear that Raz’thilda would have to make a move before she became completely cornered. Hoping to catch the blonde behemoth off-guard, she took off at full sprint toward the center. She ran to the right a few feet before entering the greatsword’s reach. As the weapon moved to meet her, she shifted her weight and changed direction. Ducking under the counterattack, Raz’thilda lifted her blade and held it against her opponent’s bare neck. When blood trickled down the length of her longsword, she returned the blade to its sheath and exited the courtyard.
The defeated woman lifted her head and shouted, “Well done, Empress!“
While approaching a wooden bench on the side of the room, Raz’thilda began to remove her chainmail coat in favor of the white tunic she had worn before sparring. “Damn, Ilara. I keep forgetting that you can swing that blade with only one hand. It makes me wonder where all of that strength comes from.“
Ilara laughed as she casually strolled off of the courtyard and followed suit. Like the Empress, she exchanged her armor for the same tunic that featured the Sorian seal in bright red on the front and back. Picking up a roll of cloth from the bench, Ilara began wrapping her cut to stop the bleeding.
“You should know better than anyone,” she replied in a playful tone, “that looks can be deceiving. It is not often that such comely royal women can move around the battlefield like that.” She reached out and rustled Raz’thilda’s short, red hair. “Traditions be damned, I think this color looks rather good on you.“
Raz’thilda chuckled as she turned to face her companion. “Trust me, it’s not only my looks that people have a problem with,” she said. “Even if I were to personally storm in and take the head of the Brethren’s leader, many Sorians would still not respect my authority as a woman. They are so blinded by tradition that all of my efforts to undo my father’s idiocy have gone unnoticed. People like that cannot distinguish a savior from a heretic. It makes my job difficult when those people run my court, lead my armies, and try to kill me in my sleep.”
“Well, at least there has not been an assassination attempt in quite some time,” Ilara said with a hint of optimism. “Perhaps they have learned their lesson and realized that you are exactly what the Empire needs. The people really do speak highly of you, and the soldiers are proud to carry your banner.”
Turning around, Raz’thilda motioned for Ilara to follow as she exited the room. The two walked in silence for a few minutes down an empty, undecorated corridor before the Empress took a sharp turn and walked onto a balcony overlooking Kellith. Making her way to the edge of the platform, she looked down upon her prized home city. Beyond the palace, a few buildings belonging to the Sorian Court littered the well-kept grounds of the Royal District. Beyond them, a tall, circular wall separated the Royal District from the city proper. Raz’thilda could barely see over the wall into the Eastern Quarter, though the sounds of bustling markets carried over easily. The only other building in sight permitted to rise above the wall was the Dawn Tower, one of the four bronze structures built to symbolize the Sorian Empire’s conquests.
Without taking her eyes off of the tower, Raz’thilda spoke in a solemn tone. “Ilara, past that wall there are people who are depending on me to feed and protect them. It sickens me that those on this side would rather see my head hung from the ramparts. They judge me because I do not blindly send my troops to every corner of Vilratha. If I were to continue my father’s misguided campaign, we would be doomed to fail. Between the Brethren, the damned Forest-folk, and keeping the Ultharans in check, we are already stretched thin. It seems that the generals and magistri cannot understand the reason why this war has been going on for centuries. If it was a simple matter of spears and swords, my father would have been able to take care of it.
“The constant news of Legion troops disappearing only makes our situation worse. We will not be able to hide the truth for much longer. They will know that we are facing a new and powerful enemy. It is lucky that we got our hands on that soldier before he could tell anyone else what he saw.”
Opening a pouch on her side, she pulled out a lavender envelope and held it up for Ilara to see. “And now we have this letter to worry about. I am certain that my uncle will sink his claws into any opportunity he gets to humiliate me. We have to act quickly before we are overwhelmed.” Raz’thilda moved her eyes from the city to Ilara and found an unexpected smile on her face. “Have you been listening?”
Ilara nodded but her expression stayed the same. “I noticed that you are wearing the High Guard tunic. It brought back good memories.”
Raz’thilda smiled for a few seconds before returning to her worried frown. “Life was much easier when I only had to look after an emperor,” she admitted. “Now I am expected to take care of his empire. But there is nothing to gain by reminiscing, we should not keep the others waiting. The sooner we address this, the better. They are not going to like the decision I have made.”
Taking one last look at the Dawn Tower, Raz’thilda left the balcony with Ilara following behind her. They traveled further down the hallway until they reached the palace’s entrance hall. Ignoring the servants who graciously bowed to her, she crossed the large atrium to an unmarked door on the far side. She opened it and stepped into a windowless stone room with no furnishings other than a plain table, a few chairs, and a torch on the wall.
Two men were already sitting at the table, patiently waiting for her arrival. On the far side sat an older, bald man who was impressively fit for his age. He was draped in a loose, white robe trimmed with crimson. The other man was considerably younger and also wore the tunic of the High Guard. When Ilara circled around the table and sat next to him, their similarities were striking. Both of them sported cropped blonde hair, tanned skin, and muscular builds. Kem and Ilara Khoros, known to the people as the Bronze Legion’s Rising and Setting Suns, truly embodied the traditional Sorian ideal.
Before Raz’thilda could begin, she noticed that one of the usually occupied chairs was vacant. Subtly gritting her teeth and turning to the old man, she asked, “Will Yohen be joining us this time?”
He shook his head and said, “You know how he is. He will show up if he needs to. We should proceed anyways. It’s not like he would be joining the discussion.”
“You all know why I have called for this meeting,” Raz’thilda said. “More and more squads have been disappearing near various outposts. Except for the story of a single witness, we currently have no leads as to who is responsible. Assuming that he is telling the truth, it is extremely unlikely that these assailants are members of the Brethren. If a single man can kill an entire squad without leaving a trace, we are dealing with an exceptionally powerful enemy. We cannot determine their motives, but I am fairly certain that Voran’s Landing was not their ultimate goal. It is possible that they will target more civilian towns, razing them one by one. Without knowing their strategy, we will not be able to fortify all of them adequately. Our resources are running thin and losing more territory will be a sign of weakness to the other generals. This is why we need to learn about this enemy and neutralize them quickly before they become more of a threat.”
Raz’thilda reached into her pouch, produced the lavender envelope, and tossed it onto the table. “This letter came from an organization of rather secretive men who refer to themselves as the Unseen Consortium. Nobody knows much about it, unfortunately, and what we do know is vague and unhelpful. Back when the Artificers were active, they would regularly receive letters offering to exchange materials for information. They were always signed by Agent Three, someone who claimed to represent a neutral party with an interest in trading. If the Artificers deemed the request to be worthwhile, they would deliver their offering to a specified location outside of Kellith. The next day, they would return to that position and find the items or documents that they were promised. Although they were suspicious of these transactions, the Artificers would not have accomplished half of the work they did without Agent Three’s assistance. That letter on the table is also addressed from the same group, but it was signed by someone else: an Agent Four.”
Kem shrugged and asked, “The Artificers have been gone for years. What do we have to offer them? I fail to see how this concerns us.”
Before Raz’thilda could reply, the only door to the room opened without as much as a creak. She had positioned herself facing the entrance for exactly this purpose; the fifth member of their meeting possessed an unsettling tendency to move about unnoticed. A man wearing the High Guard tunic strode in and silently sat down in the empty chair. A white hood cast a shadow over his face, making it impossible to see any of his features. Long, white sleeves stretched down his arms and white gloves covered his hands; not an inch of skin was visible. Raz’thilda shot an annoyed glare at him, but she did not allow herself to get distracted.
“Agent Four is not offering a trade,” she said. “Rather, they are making a proposal that could alleviate our newfound problem. These unknown assailants are not only targeting us; many Brethren hunting parties have gone missing as well. Because we are facing a common enemy, the Unseen Consortium is offering to a host a joint meeting between the Brethren and the Sorian Empire.”
The weight of Raz’thilda’s words subdued the room for several seconds. Nobody spoke until the older man grumbled, “This is preposterous. How can we even consider allying with them? They could very well be luring us into a trap. You would be an enemy of the people if you accepted the Brethren’s help.”
Raz’thilda sternly cut off his objections. “Enough, Loric. I do not enjoy the thought of working with the people whom we have fought for centuries. Unfortunately, we cannot deny reality simply because it is unpleasant. This new menace is going to rip us apart city by city if we stand idle. We can neither locate them nor defend against their attacks. How can we hope to wage war against them and the Brethren at the same time? This matter is not under discussion. We are going to send representatives to this meeting and hear them out. Our feud with the Brethren will have to come second to our survival. Are there any objections?”
The attendants reluctantly shook their heads. She was their ruler, and they had sworn to follow her wherever she went. She also knew that her most loyal protectors obeyed her by choice and not by duty alone. Relieved to have their approval, she continued. “The letter specified that exactly three representatives from each faction are to attend. If Agent Four is true to their word, then we should not expect an ambush at a neutral meeting area. He specifically requested that one of our representatives be the witness who saw the attacker. Jarco Forgeson will have to be released from prison and brought on the expedition.
“Secondly, the letter stated that the representatives would be contacted concerning the location of the meeting area after leaving Kellith. The Consortium is extremely secretive, so they have stated that the navigator must be an approved contact of theirs. They want the Artificer.”
Taken aback by her decision, Kem roared in disagreement. “You cannot be serious, Empress! Surely you have heard of what she did to that guard a few months ago. There is a reason why she was the only one to make it out of the tower alive.”
“I understand your concerns,” Raz’thilda said calmly. “She is violent, unstable, and at least partially insane, but she is all that we have. Remember that she behaved herself when we released her for the Artificers’ mass funeral. I have confidence that we will be able to subdue her if the need arises. That is exactly why the third representative will need to be someone who can keep an eye on Forgeson and the Artificer. Their leader will have to be a trusted advisor of mine, someone who will not betray me or reveal our intentions to the Brethren. The magistri that I can rely on are few and far between these days, especially with Magister Lorrollien missing. I need one of you to head the group.
“I have thought long and hard about this decision. We cannot afford to have a general leave for an extended period of time, or surely the rest of them will become suspicious. Besides, the people of Kellith will begin to worry if either Kem or Ilara Khoros stop attending to their duties. They would not be pleased if their champions suddenly go missing without an official explanation to back it up. Since this will be a negotiation, it will not be feasible to send Yohen. Once again, we only have a single option in this matter. As far as the rest of the Empire is concerned, Loric Brightfist will be going on a diplomatic mission to the forest monasteries.”
Loric rushed to dissuade her from her choice. “Raz’thilda, how can I leave your side at a time like this? Voceryn’s influence grows every day and you are well aware of how ruthless he can be.”
“I can handle my own uncle,” Raz’thilda said. “Yohen will be personally guarding me at all times when Kem and Ilara are occupied. If we do not solve this problem, I will find myself without an empire to protect. I have made my decision, and only you are capable of seeing it to fruition. You will collect Forgeson and…what was that girl’s name?”
“The Artificers called her Switch,” Loric answered.
Raz’thilda nodded and continued. “You will go to her lab and convince her to join you. She does not need to know any of the details, only that she is to show you the way. As for Forgeson, I am sure that this mission is more appealing than being detained indefinitely. Once you have the two of them, you are to leave Kellith immediately. Take the letter and travel due east; Agent Four said that you will receive further instruction.”
Although Loric looked disappointed, he rose to his feet and walked towards the door. Turning to look at Raz’thilda, he said, “I do not feel comfortable about this, but I learned long ago to trust your judgment when it comes to the survival of your people. This new enemy will not keep me away from you for long.” With that, he opened the door and walked out.
Raz’thilda paused to let the door close before continuing her instructions. “Ilara, I will need you to start recalling the Second Division in order to fortify our defenses. The southern provinces will have to fight for themselves until we can be sure that Kellith is not in danger. Kem, you will deploy your troops to the north in order to bolster the scouting squads. Any more missing soldiers will make it difficult to deny that there is a problem, and the Ultharans are restless enough as it is.”
Kem and Ilara responded, “Yes, Empress,” before promptly leaving to attend to their tasks.
With only the hooded man left, Raz’thilda addressed him directly. “That just leaves you and me to deal with Voceryn’s thugs. Uncle has never been one to let opportunities go to waste. You know what to do.” The man stood up and walked to the other side of the room, putting his hand on the knob before Raz’thilda spoke once more. “Yohen, my life is in your hands. I am counting on you.” Pausing for a second, he only nodded before exiting.
Sitting alone in the stone room, Raz’thilda contemplated her situation. She found herself caught in a three-front war against the Brethren, this unknown enemy, and her own subjects. It was going to be nearly impossible to neutralize all three of them without getting herself killed or exiled. At times like these, she was grateful that she was no stranger to adversity.
Reflections – Rulers
“It is in our nature to serve something greater than ourselves, a vain attempt to return to the beginning from whence we all came. Inevitably there are individuals who will rise above the rest, elevated by their skill, their ambition, or sometimes pure happenstance. We look to them for guidance, to bring us into the fold and make us whole. But every time I meet these rulers, those who would put themselves above and away from the rest of us, I have to ask: what is it that they serve?”