Arch-Arbiter Ruben was furious. He was furious every day, true, but today was especially bad. He had not been selected to give the speech at the anniversary assembly. Instead, Arch-Arbiter Cameronus had been chosen. His brother-Arbiters had said it was because they weren’t sure whether Cameronus would see another anniversary. Ruben didn’t necessarily disagree with this logic, but he felt he had a better case. After all, it was he who had overseen the decoding of more of the Mistkeep System than any other Arbiter of Defense. No Arbiter of Defense had ever produced so much reinforced supranium as he had. And yet, the honor went to Cameronus, for the supreme achievement of being old.

Thankfully, at this moment, a there was a knock at the door Arch-Arbiter Ruben’s quarters. This would be his Under-Arbiter, here to give him news of the raids in Wirrshol. This was sure to cheer him up.

“COME IN!”

Under-Arbiter Antoni opened the door carefully, quickly examining Ruben’s face in an attempt to discern the Arbiter’s mood. Apparently, what he saw did not please him, as he immediately cast his eyes to the ground and closed the door behind him quietly.

“Arch-Arbiter, I have the report from the raid squads.” He looked nervous.

“Well?” Ruben couldn’t stand time wasting.

“Overall, very successful sir. Of the nine five-man squads, seven suffered no casualties. One group suffered three casualties, and the other suffered five.”

Ruben raised his eyebrows. “That’s not too bad. Do the survivors report success in their missions?”

“Yes Arch-Arbiter. They are confident that this will be very effective at lowering enemy morale. They say their experience with internal targets transferred very well.”

Ruben smiled softly. He knew this would cheer him up. “Wonderful.” He whistled a couple notes from the national anthem and scratched a couple notes, then chuckled.

“Hopefully these recent successes will help my brother-Arbiters get over their silly theological hangups regarding ambushes.”

“Sorry, what was that sir?”

Ruben realized he was muttering out loud. “Oh. Nothing.” He decided he should change the topic.

“I assume the team that was wiped out was the one targeting Ironhorn?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ruben sighed, then shrugged. “Oh well, it was worth a try. But what about the other squad? Were the others not assigned to strike small towns near the border?”

“That is correct sir. Squadron number six was sent to target Inarahi. A small Wirrsholi village near the Gahlalian border. It seems that while on route, they discovered a small army encampment, and decided to target that instead. Unfortunately, a high-ranking and very skilled Wirrsholi warrior was there. Rank of Sub-Commander at least, sir.”

Ruben cursed under his breath. “Fools. Tell them to obey the EXACT orders they are given. And let them know that if it wasn’t so hard to train men to use supranium, I’d have them hanged for this.”

“Yes sir,” Antoni answered meekly.

“Alright. You’re dismissed.” Ruben waved his hand at Antoni.

“Actually, Arch-Arbiter, sir. The Wirrsholi warrior was not the only unusual soldier present.”

This intrigued Ruben. “Oh, is that so?”

“The survivors claim that the camp they raided was full of Gahlalian soldiers, not Wirrsholi warriors.”

Ruben sat in stunned silence. This couldn’t be possible. All intelligence reports suggested that Gahlal and Wirrshol’s relationship had deteriorated to the point of hatred, due to their recent border skirmishes. After a moment of shock, he quickly furrowed his brow so as not to communicate any surprise to Antoni.

“Hm. I see. Well, thank you Under-Arbiter Antoni. You may go now, if there is nothing else.”

The Under-Arbiter looked relieved. “That’s it, Arch-Arbiter.” With that, he turned around and left.

Ruben sat in his chair for a few more minutes, to make sure Antoni was well down the hallway. He needed to call a meeting with the other Arch-Arbiters, but he did not want to communicate any concern about this news. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. He let his eyes drift to the portrait of his King, his face obscured as always. In this image, the King was obscured was behind a white veil, representative of his divine marriage to the Above. This was one of, if not the most common symbolic motifs in Galyrian artwork. Gazing upon this image, for just a moment, Ruben thought he might tear up. Before this happened though, he pulled himself together and stood up. It was time see about having a meeting.

It wasn’t hard to have a meeting with the other Arch-Arbiters. They all lived in one palace, and rarely left. Instead, they send Arbiters or Under-Arbiters to do the dirty work for them. It was better like this. Less chance of being assassinated by a Cleonian or Illhani assassin, and it meant less riding on horses or in carriages.

The Arch-Arbiters sat around a white marble table. Almost everything official in Galyria was made of white marble, with red accents. The walls of the meeting room were decorated with paintings of the great battles of Galyria’s early history. These were the battles where the ferocity and devotion of Galyrian soldiers were first seen. In the months afterwards, the religious force that was of the Worship of the Above also came to be known, loved, and feared.

“Brother Ruben. What is this about?” Said Arch-Arbiter Scotha. He was the Arbiter of Divinity, and a man truly devoted to the Above and his King. Ruben respected him deeply for it.

“My brothers. I have received some concerning news. It seems that the Gahlalians have sent troops to Wirrshol.”

The reaction of his brother-Arbiters was similar to his initial response. After a minute or so of silence, it was Arch-Arbiter Cameronus who spoke.

“Let us not overreact. This is disheartening, most surely. But we accounted for this. We can win this war even if all the other territories unite against us. Factoring in our non-aggression pact with Elkenvale, we don’t have anything to worry about.”

Ten or so of the brother-Arbiters sounded their approval. But Arch-Arbiter Scotha shook his head slowly in disagreement. Standing, he looked over his brother-Arbiters slowly before making his thoughts known.

“We should not jest. We are all aware that the issue is not victory. His Majesty has made his wishes very clear. We will not invade Ironhorn while there is a unified Eroth. The theology is clear. The way of the Above is to overcome disunity, and to unite the divided. Our final rise is to occur during a time of chaos.”

Cameronus scoffed. “An uneasy, practical alliance between two territories hardly constitutes a world united against us!”

“No, but if Wirrshol and Gahlal are willing to co-operate, why not Illhana or Cleonia? Illhana has already been providing Ironhorn with resources for a century now, and Cleonia’s reputation as a betrayer can be overcome under enough stress.”

“Brother Scotha, I mean no disrespect, but this is pure alarmism. Illhana could not unite itself enough to unite with other territories - just this year, two provinces have declared independence! And Cleonia will never restore its reputation. Their men scorn honest work, preferring to raid the coasts of Gahlal, Wirrshol, and Illhana.”

Ruben had heard enough. “Thank you brothers, for making your thoughts clear. I suggest we focus our intelligence on Gahlal. We need to figure out the cause for this cooperation. Other than that, we will simply watch. If other territories seem to be moving in a similar direction, we can discuss this further. Are we all in assent?”

The Arch-Arbiters nodded one by one and rose from their chairs. Arch-Arbiter Scotha spoke slowly, and with intention.

“Blessed is the Above, and Blessed are those who command in Its name.” At his blessing, they departed from the room.

Now that the meeting had been completed, Arch-Arbiter Ruben had a far more interesting matter to attend to. Led by two of his most trusted Sub-Arbiters, he made his way to a small courtyard in a remote corner of the Arbiters’ Palace. What waited for him was in equal parts awe inspiring, and terrifying. Six men, supranium knights, stood in front of a locked jail-carriage. They wore entire suits of supranium armor, each being worth more than the coffers of a large village. The shimmering red metal wove around their body like hideous vines, forming a halo of spikes around their heads. In the middle of the courtyard was a large rock, about the size of a horse.

When the Arch-Arbiter arrived, taking his place on a balcony high above the courtyard, they stepped to either side of the carriage, and unlocked it. A man staggered out, covered in a white sheet, one of the knights removed the sheet, revealing the man beneath it. He no longer wore supranium, but had been melded with it. It pierced his body in countless locations, none of them deadly, but all of them incredibly painful, rendering him unable to move normally. The metal weaved in out of his arms, through his stomach and torso, and through his cheeks, to horrifying effect.

The Arch-Arbiter pushed down a slight wave of nausea, before giving a hand signal. The man began to moan, trembling slightly, before beginning to writhe in agony. The knights looked on coldly. The man screamed, and suddenly, the rock in the center of the courtyard lifted into the air. Not far, but it certainly lifted. The man continued to scream, and fell to the ground, now seizing in pain. The Arch-Arbiter nodded, and one of the knights put him out of his misery with a single swing of his sword. The stone dropped. The Arch-Arbiter felt a pang of guilt that he could not thank the man for his sacrifice, but the supranium had to be recycled as soon as possible.

Ruben turned to one of his Sub-Arbiters. “Make a note please. On this day, the third day of the five-hundred and eighteenth year of our Empire, we have deciphered the first usable section of the Mistkeep system.”

The Arch-Arbiter returned to his quarters with a smile on his face. Today had been a good day.