Chapter 6 – Upper Echelon

 

Larena Barathiel stood in front of the door to the council. The door was looming over her, wide and tall enough to allow passage for even a small catapult.

Two soldiers stood guard at the entrance, their steel armor gleaming with the sunlight coming from the windows of the corridor. They both had white hair and their shields were leaning against the wall, their swords rested in their belts. As evident from their white hair and the symbol of a radiant blade in their shields, these were the members of the Argent Blade, the only surviving “Mage” Guild inside the Kel’daras Empire after the Rebellion.

Larena always found the term mage insulting. Mages weren’t real—they were imaginary people in bard tales and legends, born with the ability to cast spells. The “mages” of this world, however, weren’t doing magic, they were mastering the Elder Arts: the ability to use and transform the elder energy found inside every creature. It wasn’t any different from mastering maths, physics, or even music. Mages were innate while the Elder Art users had to put effort into learning things. That’s why she, and many others, preferred the term Artists. Still, the common folk cared little for such paltry differences and called them mages for centuries.

She was pulled away from her thoughts by approaching footsteps.

Finally, she thought. Waiting with two Argent Blades was quite uncomfortable, as they and the Falcons didn’t like each other too much due to their historical rivalry. She wasn’t an official member of the Falcons, but she was quite close to them, so they were occasionally trading disdainful looks. Even worse, she could see their gaze fall upon her body from time to time, which they thankfully didn’t continue after Larena warned them with a wicked tongue. Do men think we don’t notice it when they’re staring at our boobs?

“Greetings, gentlemen,” Togan’s voice echoed in the corridor. “And sorry for keeping you waiting, my dear.”

Togan was armed to the teeth as always. His sword was dangling from his belt, his sleeveless Falcon armor donned. He was smirking as he looked the Argent Blades right in the eye.

“Your sword, Lord Teremon,” said one of the Argent Blades.

“You liked it?” His smirk widened.

“You have to take it off.”

“Ooh,” Togan faked a surprised face. “That. Yeah.”

He started to take off his belt to remove his scabbard. “You gentlemen are also Artists, no? You know very well that I don’t need a sword to kill every single council member in there.”

“It’s a procedure.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I’m just trying to say that it is a faulty one.” He removed his scabbard and dropped it onto Argent's arms. “I can trust you with that, right?”

He frowned. “Yes.”

“Fantastic, thank you for your service.”

Togan stepped forward and opened the door. Normally Argents would be the ones opening the door since it was too heavy for normal people, but Togan was being a show-off as always… which Larena enjoyed. Togan entered the council and she followed suit.

The council room was a plain one, at least in terms of furniture. The only thing occupying the room was an enormous round table in the middle which took up most of the room. Giant windows were covering the side walls and every window had different colored panes, allowing different colors of light to enter. The array of colors was, however, intersecting in the middle to create a bright, white light on the round table. The table was also cut from marble, reflecting the white light to make the room look more extravagant. This room was a marvel of engineering and Larena never got tired of seeing it, though she couldn’t say the same for the people in it.

There were about ten seats in the council, all occupied except Togan’s. All members of the council were ministers and some of them had their assistants, just like Larena, standing behind their chairs. King’s seat was on the opposite wall and it was not a normal chair, but a throne.

“You’re late as usual, Lord Teremon,” said one of the lords. His beard was neatly trimmed and his gray hair was tied in a tight ponytail. He was Lord Bonovar Terablis, the Minister of Education.

“I’m sorry milord.” Togan sat down on his seat and Larena took her place behind his right shoulder. “I had some important work to do. Something to do with handling the entire Runodar campaign all by myself.”

“Don’t dramatize yourself Teremon, you’ve butchered the entire 3rd. You’re clearly not handling it well.”

Togan was about to say something (probably something harsh) but one of the other ministers cleared her throat to catch the attention of the council. She was the only woman in the council and was responsible for foreign affairs. Her cheekbones were abnormally high, narrowing her eyes, while her cheeks were quite hollow. If she was a bit paler, one would mistake her for a dead person. Still, despite her face looking just a smidge better from a skull, it gave her a unique charm. She was carrying her face with a style.

“First of all,” she started, “I think what Lord Terablis tried to say was: our condolences.” She gave Lord Terablis an annoying look. “We’ve heard that your father passed away, and your mother is in hospital.”

“I’ve heard he was killed,” a fat lord said with disdain. Lord Relichor Menre, Minister of Economy. “By your brother, no less.”

“An unfortunate situation,” said Togan. “One that has no place in an Imperial Council meeting. Am I wrong, Your Majesty?”

Larena could see Togan clenching his fist under the table, yet he maintained his cool face. She wanted to hug him and tell him that he didn’t have to be strong, but of course, she couldn’t do that here.

King Astus gave Togan a look. It was hard to guess what the King was thinking—his face was one of those faces that looked angry all the time, even when they were happy. He was forty-five years old, but his stern face made him look like he was pushing his sixties. His already-grayed hair was also not helping with that image. Still, he looked as glorious as ever in his feathered red robe that hugged him like a blanket.

“True,” said King Astus. For all the negative things she could say about the man, his voice was one of the most charismatic voices Larena had heard in her entire life. As always, he asserted his dominance with a single word, drawing everyone’s complete attention.

“I’m deeply sorry for what happened, Togan,” the King continued. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do about your mother. That being said, Togan is right, I’ve gathered all of you to talk about a serious matter. An envoy from Runodar arrived a few days ago. They’re offering a truce.”

The council members started to mumble among themselves, but none of them was surprised. Neither was Larena. Having lost the Isle of Macaw, the most important location of the war, offering a truce to regain their strength was the most reasonable move for Runodar. It would give Kel’daras enough time to send more troops to the island and strengthen their forces, but unlike Kel’daras, Runodar had allies. The Alliance of Runodar consisted of Runodar and six different Circle Nations, which could help Runodar regain his strength much faster than Kel’daras.

King Astus hit the armrest of his throne with the ring on his finger, silencing everyone. “I would give you time to think and converse, but I have already accepted the offer.”

Larena was shocked, and she was not alone in that. She wasn’t surprised because it was a bad move to accept the truce, no. She was surprised because she couldn’t believe how King Astus, of all people, would accept a truce with Runodar. The man was obsessed with conquering Runodar, so it didn’t make any sense.

Togan was watching the King with wide eyes. Larena couldn’t think what he was thinking, but it was clear that he was not happy. Weird, she thought. I’d thought he’d be happy to not lose more people.

King hit his chair again to silence the room. “You are most likely wondering why I accepted the offer since it disadvantages us greatly. We’re going to launch a surprise attack during the truce.”

That was… Larena didn’t know what to say. Everybody in the room was awestruck—it was not only Larena, nobody knew what to say. Except for Togan who expressed his displeasure without hiding it.

“Are you fucking serious?”

If the council was awestruck before, Larena didn’t have any words to describe its state after Togan spoke. You idiot. You crossed the line. Everyone was looking at Togan with widened eyes until Lord Terablis broke the silence.

“Know your language Teremon!”

Togan jumped to his feet, looking directly at the King. “What is even the point of having a council if you are going to make decisions all by yourself, Your Majesty?”

“Know your place, Togan.” The King furrowed, making his already-angry-looking face look enraged.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, what is my place? Let me answer it for you, it is the seat of Warfare. You’re deciding to put us into a war that can potentially be the downfall of this Empire without even consulting me, and I am the one who doesn’t know his place?”

Larena had known Togan for almost fifteen years, and this was the first time she had ever seen him this angry. He’s going to get himself killed! Please calm down Togan! Please!

“Your Majesty!” Lord Terablis shouted. He stood up as well. “Have this presumptuous man whipped!”

“Oh, you’d love to see me getting whipped, wouldn’t you, Lord Terablis? We’ve all heard the rumors about your hardcore tendencies.”

“Enough!” King’s hefty voice silenced the room once again, except for Terablis’ noisy breathing. He was fuming, glaring at Togan with killing intent.

“Togan,” King continued, he was also having a hard time staying. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t have you whipped.”

“I can give you two” Togan leaned against the table. “First, you can’t because you need me. Second, it won’t do any damage to my skin.”

“We don’t need him!” Terablis yelled. “We don’t need someone who leads our armies to their demise! Take all of his ranks!”

“Silence!” King was getting impatient. “Yes, we need you, Togan, but you’re getting too ahead of yourself. I know you’ve had some rough days recently, and I understand. But don’t be disrespectful.”

Togan let out a dirty laugh. “I don’t think I was getting disrespectful, Your Majesty. It is you who are disrespecting this entire nation. I serve this country, not your royal blood. If you think that is treason, feel free to sentence me to death and see how you lose this war. But if you expect me to not say anything while you plan for our downfall, then no, I’m not going to do that..”

The King stayed silent for a while. Although Larena was scared for Togan at the beginning, she was relieved a bit. Any other person would’ve already guillotined, but it was obvious how desperately King Astus needed Togan for this war. Right now, he was just trying to swallow his pride.

“Why do you think this war will be our downfall?”

Thankfully both the King and Togan looked calmed down a bit.

“First, our military is not strong enough. We’ve lost too many men in Macaw, we can’t replace them fast enough. Second, we haven’t even seen the bulk of Runodar’s power. The Isle of Macaw is just that, an island. Runodar is a whole continent. A continent that is surrounded by not only one, but two 50-meter walls. Nobody could destroy those walls in the last 500 years.”

“But it was done 500 years ago.” The King swelled with pride as if he won the argument. “It can be done again.”

“Yes, but they were destroyed by Galaharis, who had the entire world behind him. Not even mentioning his insane Elder Art skills.”

“Some people compare your skills to Galaharis’.”

“I can assure you there’s nothing to compare, Your Majesty. Even if I was as strong as him, I wouldn’t be able to do much. Runodar has been reinforcing and enchanting those walls for the last 500 years, I can’t destroy them on my own.”

“But with help..?”

Togan gulped and stopped for a while. “Maybe.”

“Then the problem is solved. I have every confidence that you will find a way to destroy them. Was it really that hard to be cooperative, Togan?”

“You don’t understand, Your Majesty. We still don’t have enough men. Our logistics, pardon my language, will be fucked when we set foot on Runodar. Not even mentioning how we will destroy our reputation with other nations by breaking an official truce.”

King smiled widely. “Good thing I did some preparations. We will extend the conscription to replenish the army we’ve lost.”

“There will be riots.”

“None that we can’t handle. You may not like each other too much, but we have quite a nationalist generation thanks to Terablis. People will fight.”

Togan massaged his temples and thought for a while. “Runodar will see something’s wrong when they realize we’re gathering troops in a short amount of time.”

“They won’t,” said King Astus, his smile turned wicked. “You may think I’m stupid, Togan, but trust me, I’m not doing this on a whim. You see, an envoy arrived from Runodar recently, but I have also sent an envoy. To Annadoria.”

“The Southern Alliance?” Togan raised his head in a flash.

“Indeed. If they accept, we will wage war against each other. A fake one.”

Togan watched the table in front of him with thoughtful eyes. “So Runodar will think we’re gathering them for the south.”

“Exactly.”

Oh no, Larena thought, seeing Togan’s apparent brainstorming. He’s considering it. He’s actually considering fighting!

“What’s their gain?” Togan asked. His voice was quiet as if he was defeated. There was no trace of his anger from moments ago.

“Nothing, other than getting a slice of the cake. They’ll join the war alongside us. They hate Runodar as much as we do, I’m sure they will not miss this opportunity.”

Togan sat back and remained silent for a few moments, which surprisingly wasn’t broken by anyone.

“I hate to say this,” said Togan with a bitter smile. “But this might actually work.”

***

“There’s no way this is going to work.”

Togan was standing on the balcony of their luxurious room in the Royal Palace assigned for them. It was a spacious room with a double-sized bed—a study table, a few big couches, an entire additional room for dressing, and a balcony half the size of a regular house.

“Then why did you lie?” Larena asked. She was sitting on one of the sofas on the balcony, while Togan watched the city.

“Truth wasn’t going to convince him.” Togan heaved a sigh. “And honestly, I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.”

Larena jumped to her feet and hugged Togan from the back. “I was worried,” she whispered, burying her face in between his shoulder blades. “You went too far there.”

“I guess I did. But they can’t do anything, Larena. They need me.”

“Maybe not anymore.” Larena closed her eyes and tried to enjoy this rare moment she got with him despite the bleak conversation. “Especially if they can pull the Southern Alliance to the war.”

Togan remained silent for a time. “Yeah, you’re right. I would’ve still believed they needed me. But thinking about what Deitor said before the battle… He was right. Arrogance can get me killed, and nearly did in Raven’s Eye. I have no intention of repeating that mistake.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Right now? Nothing. I’m just going to do whatever the King says and hope that he will see his mistake.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Larena raised her head to look at Togan.

“Then,” Togan said, looking at the city below with harrowing eyes. “We will have to take over the reins ourselves.”