CHAPTER 27: The Emperor's Gambit
Skaith ascended the staircase along the corridor. He rolled up his left sleeve and secured it with his captain's badge. High, narrow windows lined both sides, allowing the sunlight to stream in almost unobstructed. At this height, the view outside the windows offered only the expanse of the blue sky.
Terzion Palace consisted of three magnificent towers, one rising higher than the others. They were interconnected by a complex network of staircases, corridors, and bridges. In this vertically oriented structure, there were more stairs than flat pathways.
The palace towered from the peak of a cliff jutting into the bay and curving upwards. They called the cliff The Horn. From any southwest-facing window of the palace, one could see the capital city streaked by streets.
It had become his habit to walk along the left wall, on the side of his missing arm. This way, he could reduce the risk of ambush from his weaker side, and he always met others with his right side. Unlike most people who ascended stairs with dangling heels, he always stepped with his whole foot to secure a good foothold in case of an ambush.
A pair of young soldiers guarded the door at the end of the corridor. They placed their clenched hands over their left chests, bowed, and stepped aside.
Skaith was easily recognizable wherever he went. Usually, his missing left arm was enough. But there was also the slash wound that crossed from his right forehead, leaving a hairless streak through his graying hair, continuing to his cheekbone. And, of course, everyone knew the long-sleeved white uniform with its blue geometric design. The Drag Shed uniform.
The Drag Shed were eight individuals handpicked by the Emperor himself, guards and servants both. The people he trusted most. It had been eighteen years since he became the captain of the Drag Shed. Eighteen years since The Ascent.
The door led him to a balcony garden protruding over the bay. Two individuals attired in a similar fashion to him bowed their heads and made way. The Emperor of Terzion, Gardioz Azgarath, observed the ships passing in the grayish bay from the edge of the balcony. Their body was wrapped in layer upon layer of grand robes.
Skaith knelt thirty steps from the Emperor. Thirty steps were often considered a respectful distance. Prana techniques, with their inherently unstable energy structures, could not be projected beyond this distance. Mana could exceed thirty steps, but traditionally, thirty steps were deemed a respectful distance.
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“Ah, Skaith, come closer,” the Emperor turned, silver mask glinted. The Emperor's voice was hoarse and slightly hissing, but unmistakably that of a man.
He advanced ten steps before kneeling again.
Except on special occasions, the Emperor always maintained their entire disguise, from the way of speaking, mannerisms, and behavior. Her personality had so merged with Gardioz that even Skaith sometimes forgot the face behind the mask.
“Your Majesty, Wraith has dispatched this missive.”
“Read it.”
Using one hand, Skaith broke the seal of the letter and flicked it open. “The maneuver of Neuvane Krio, steering his fleet south, has been confirmed as an act of insubordination. This deviation cannot be attributed to uncertain winds or currents within the Inner Sea.”
“Ha ha ha,” the Emperor laughed. “Even to confirm his treachery took this long. He really planned everything as well as possible.”
“What course of action would Your Majesty recommend?” Skaith asked.
“Neuvane have to die. His knowledge of Artifica is too dangerous. I didn't kill him before because I couldn't create Artifica myself. He knew it and used the time to build connections and make many people indebted to him.
“Now he's too entrenched. I can't kill him without making many others feel threatened. Worse, his treachery might spread. He also stole Artifica weapons; I have to be careful in handling him. Where is he now?”
“He was situated on a small island to the north of the Denois mainland four days prior. It is anticipated that he will sail to the mainland within a few days. Wraith assures that whatever his objective may be, it is within the confines of Denois.”
“Denois... I could order our overseer there to trap and capture him,” Gardioz said, turning their gaze back to the bay. “They must not use brute force, or Neuvane will employ his Artifica. But in a battle of wits, I am not sure our overseer can outwit Neuvane.”
Gardioz fell silent for a long while, then said, “Didn't I once order a Drag Shed to infiltrate the Kargad rebels when they discovered that Keragan was held in Grest?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Our agent was commanded to report directly to Your Majesty and refrain from taking any action without Your Majesty's explicit orders. In the latest report, our agent conveyed that the Kargad rebels have procured the required provisions from Vraka Barga and are prepared to launch an assault on Grest.”
“Instruct not to disrupt the rebels' plans.”
Skaith looked up. “May I inquire if Your Majesty has intentions to grant freedom to Vraka Keragan?”
“If my overseer fails to apprehend Neuvane, I will need someone else capable of overcoming him. Who better than his sworn enemy? It's like releasing a wolf to hunt a tiger. Neuvane is still more dangerous. Keragan is just one man, however formidable he may be, but Neuvane can teach Artifica to others.
“All actions carry risk, but with Keragan, I can eliminate Neuvane without causing significant harm to ourselves. Once Keragan is free, instruct our agent to pit them against each other.”
“By your command, Your Majesty.” Skaith bowed. “I seek Your Majesty's pardon, but may I inquire as to why Your Majesty does not issue a direct order for the release of Keragan?”
“Keragan would be suspicious if I released him. Releasing him would also be seen as a poor move by my overseer in Denois. I cannot allow discontent to grow. Not until I achieve my aspiration.”
“In accordance with your desires, Your Majesty.”
