A white ball was tucked under his arm.

The smooth crystal surface carried him down the dense field. Keeping his balance on long, narrow blades affixed to his boots wasn’t a challenge. Having to avoid his opponents was.

The words Alandra were inscribed on the back of his white shirt. It was the name of the Ahrman region he called home. The two men gliding toward him wore red with the word Kavamaca on their backs.

Divided into eight separate regions, the Ahrman empire is home to roughly seven hundred million people. A majority of the population resided in the capital of Parigrah, the empire’s largest city.

However, a few times a year millions from across the nation gather in Kavamaca to watch their favorite teams compete in a game of Verglas. It was the only team sport in the nation.

A large athletic field spanned the entirety of the stone coliseum. Half of it was sectioned off into a rhombus with a net of ropes framed by metal bars in each of its four corners.

The sound of sharp edges cutting over the crystal surface dominated the air. Fans stayed in their seats as the Alandria team advanced towards one of their two goals. The ball handler spun around his opponent, seeking to block his path.

Another grabbed his arm, freeing the melon-sized ball from the man’s possession. The Alandra player rolled to the ground as the opposing team scrambled to pick up the ball. A member of the Alandra team sailed through the conflict and scooped up the ball.

He kicked the ball at the red ball, sending it sailing towards the opposing team’s ball. It was the last red ball on the field. Knocking it out of the goal would secure the win for the home team.

The white ball struck the red one head-on. For several breath-taking minutes, the ball jumped about as if it didn’t know if it wanted to stay in or out of the net. Another hard bounce against the crystal surface and the ball spiraled out of the goal.

“GAME!” shouted a green-clad official observing the match.

Fans cheered with jubilation. “Alandra! Alandra!” they chanted. Both teams exchanged friendly handshakes as they exited the field. But when it came to the player that scored the winning goal, team Kavamaca chose to bow to him instead. “Excellent game, gentlemen,” he said with a smile.

Waving to the fans with hands held high, the player followed his teammates off the field. Of all the players in the game, he was the only one with a receding hairline.

He was also the only player with an entourage of well-armed men.

“Your majesty!’ called someone from behind. “King Lisador!”

He turned to see a member of his royal guard bulldozing his way through the entourage. “Ah, Sisten,” he said. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Verglas.”

“I’m not. I have no time for sport and play when the enemy is closing in on our borders.”

“Sisten,” the king began. He smiled and waved to fans as they left the stadium. He stepped closer to the royal guard. “Lower your voice. Do you want to cause a panic? Now, I trust you were able to put a stop to them?”

“You still haven’t told the public we’re at war, have you?”

“Of course not,” the king chuckled. “Why, if I made an announcement every time that senile old fool rattled his saber in the wind, children would have more gray hairs than me.”

“If I hadn’t been there today, Thesda’s children would have more than gray hairs to worry about!”

The king threw his arm around Sisten’s shoulder and casually turned him away from the large crowd. “We can discuss this later in the audience hall, Sisten.”

With steam rising off his hand, Sisten knocked the king’s arm away. “If you’re not going to protect your people, then maybe it’s time the people had a new king.”

A small fire began to tear through the fabric on the king’s sleeve. He quickly snuffed it out with his other hand. Noticing Sisten’s actions, one of the escorts responded by unsheathing his weapon. The king waved him off.

Still wearing a careless smile, king Lisador looked down at Sisten and whispered. “Try that again and it will be your head we use in the next game instead of a ball.”

Sisten kept king Lisador in his sight as the man left the stadium, his right hand still steaming.

***

When he wasn’t playing Verglas, King Lisador III was dressed in the finest silk. From his navy blue and gold-laced gown that flirted with his knees, to the matching pair of slippers, the Ahrman ruler spared no expense.

His choice of clothing was heavily influenced by what people commonly wear in Rudraksha, a neutral republic, an ocean, and a sea away. During his first diplomatic visit there the king made a few dress shop owners rich by buying everything they had.

On his last trip, he made their ruler a happy man by marrying his oldest daughter, Sia. Of course, he was already a married man at the time and still is. Her majesty didn’t raise any objections as long as Sia lived out her days as a servant; nothing more.

Sia living in a guest estate was the queen’s last condition.

Surrounded by a thick green forest, the royal mansion covered five acres of land. The marble main house was three stories and encompassed two acres on its own. Depending on the destination, traversing the lengthy hallways and wide staircases was a day’s workout.

As the king made his way to a gold-trimmed door, one of his armed guards walked ahead of him and opened it for him.

He stepped into a large room with a ceiling that scraped the sky. An oval table sat in the center of white walls surrounded by two long, upholstered seats. Large windows captured a row of tall green treetops that were second only to the capital’s skyline.

The king closed the door, keeping his attention on a man standing in front of the windows. “Lieutenant Alba?”

“You’re here,” Alba said, closing a book in his hand. “Finally.”

“My apologies. The game lasted longer than I anticipated.”

Alba turned to the king. “No need to apologize, your majesty. Your tardiness gave me time to catch up on my reading.”

“Won’t you have a seat?” the king offered, stepping down to floor level.

“Of course.”

“I was surprised to hear that you requested an audience. Something happened in that fishing village you were overseeing?”

“We had a special visitor, the prophesied ‘destroyer of Rebirths’.”

“I see.” The king rubbed the bristles on his chin. He shifted his attention to the door opening. A young servant carrying an elegant silver tea set walked into the room. She placed the set on the table, her long dark hair falling off her shoulder.

“So he’s real,” the king said, watching the servant pour tea into a small cup.

“He’s a child. An emotional brat,” Alba said, waving the woman away from his cup. “My attempt to persuade him to our side was not at all effective.”

The servant lowered her head and turned to leave. The king grabbed her hand, rubbing her smooth dusky skin. He pulled her to him and whispered in her ear. “Wait for me outside, Sia.”

“So, where is the boy now?” the king asked Alba as Sia left the room.

“Someone infiltrated my compound and...” Alba paused. “What has transpired while I’ve been away? Have you and her highness parted ways?

“Her Majesty doesn’t complain.”

“I suppose your personal affairs are none of my concern. But, you could at least be faithful to your own kind.”

King Lisador sipped from his cup. “You were saying, about the Rebirth Destroyer?”

“Right, of course. Someone helped him escape.”

The king raised an eyebrow. “Someone working for the emperor?”

“I don’t believe so. It’s my understanding that the emperor views him as a threat.”

“Yes, well, I’ll put someone on his trail. Perhaps Sisten”

“Your Majesty, I learned that the boy was found by fishermen at the bottom of the reservoir. He should have been nothing more than a corpse, but he lives and walks today. As you know, I’ve devoted much of my life to studying the Rebirths and I’m certain he can not be killed, not with the power of those runes within him.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“If our scientists can find a way to harvest that power, we would have access to an infinite number of runes.”

“I’ll consider it,” the king rose from his seat.

“Please do, your majesty,” Alba said, leaving his seat as well. “He could be the key to opening many doors.”

“Perhaps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant...”

“Of course,” Alba replied, shaking his head as the king exited the room. He reclined in his seat and returned to his book, The Khalina Prophecy.

As he read a shrouded figure appeared by the window. But as Alba took notice of it, the mysterious figure was gone.