Looking at his decrepit hand, Autem murmured, “I paid a high price to secure my dynasty’s future. I can feel Agatha’s magic eating me away. It has to be worth it! With the potential threat in the north, such measures had to be taken. It is too late for regret now!”
When Autem closed his eyes, he could see visions of dragons flying over Chrysos and setting the city ablaze. He saw images of a gold phoenix rising from snowy mountains, incinerating Sylva armies with its light. Finally, Autem could see a white stag with gilded antlers galloping towards an epic battle. All of these dreams were due to the prophecies Agatha had been telling Autem for eighteen years ever since Umbran fell to House Magnus.
Sighing, Autem cooed, “Relax! You’re the Emperor! It may have nearly killed you multiple times, but you have made the necessary arrangements in case the Magnuses decide to invade. There is nothing to worry about.”
At that moment, Autem’s eldest son, High Prince Gyran Sylva, approached him and sat next to him. Gyran was a handsome young man who was about to turn twenty with silver hair and deep aqua-colored eyes. He was as athletic as a knight in his prime and had a supremely arrogant demeanor.
Sneering, Gyran asked, “Talking to yourself again, father?”
Scowling, Autem snarled, “Don’t mock me, boy! I am contemplating possible threats we may face.”
“You mean the Magnuses who might take away my birthright? You and Mother have been working on the contingency plans for years. We are more than prepared in case the Magnuses bring their dragons south.”
“Then why am I still plagued with doubts? Of course we made the preparations and paid a hefty price in the process, but there is no guarantee they will work. Our spies report that the Magnuses have brokered marriage alliances with all of the northern kingdoms. If they decide to invade, they will have great numbers and resources at their disposal. Our relations with Darrm are less than ideal, so we won’t be able to truly count on them to support us. Therefore, our chief supporters will come from Gaena, Raevor, and Waes.”
“Why don’t you let me take the Beast up north and burn them before they can invade?”
Autem was so shocked by his son’s suggestion that he almost choked, saying, “You fool! If you perform a preemptive strike, you will have the entire north marching down upon us! They will invade us for sure!”
“Not if I kill the Magnuses and their dragons in the process. With their most powerful weapons and key leaders removed, the north will be no threat to us.”
“You will turn the Magnuses into martyrs! Even if you kill the Magnuses and their dragons, the northern kingdoms will seek vengeance for anyone else you kill in the crossfire!”
“Doesn’t matter. We have the Beasts to quell any rebellions that break out.”
Autem smacked Gyran over the head and scolded, “I will speak no more of this! I forbid any preemptive action! I order you both as your father and your Emperor!”
After that outburst, Autem stiffly rose to his feet and left Gyran alone in the sauna.
______
Later that day, Gyran met with his younger brothers, Tytus and Romyn, in the courtyard at the top of the Imperial Palace. All three siblings were identical except for a few key features. Gyran had shoulder-length hair, Tytus had short hair, and Romyn was bald. In the distance, they could see all of Chrysos and the land beyond below them. Surrounding them were five huge towers circling the Citadel and baileys in the center. The Imperial Guards stood watch like living statues as the High Princes met. As they sat together outside the Palace’s tavern, the Sylva brothers discussed Gyran’s conversation with their father.
“Father does not seem to take the Magnus threat as seriously as he says. If he is as strong as he believes he is, he would unleash the Beasts upon the north and burn the Magnuses within their own keep,” Gyran growled bitterly.
“He does have a point. If we attack them before they attack us, we will only be creating the very civil war he trying to avoid,” Tytus said, drinking from a chalice of ale.
“Besides, you have a child to worry about if war breaks out, Gyran. Everything Father has done was to preserve the continuation of our dynasty. If we do a preemptive strike, we will risk destroying all that he has built,” Romyn added.
Slamming his fist into the table, Gyran declared, “Do not remind me of my daughter Amber! My beloved wife died giving birth to her! She is nothing to me! Besides, you are just as weak and cowardly as father!”
Shushing his brother, Romyn whispered, “Keep your voice down! If you talk like that about Father in public, he may disinherit you or worse!”
“One of these days, I am going to show some initiative and prove myself worthy of being heir apparent. He will never disinherit me after that,” Gyran countered.
At that moment, the Sylva brothers were greeted by their mother, Empress Consort Agatha, one of the last living Druids. Like all Druids, Agatha was a descendant of half-elves and was proficient in the use of ancient magic. The Temple of the Elemental Gods believed that Druids possessed a special connection with the gods themselves. As a result, Druids were held in high regard throughout the Empire, which was why Autem married Agatha. While Autem was deteriorating, Agatha still possessed a youthful appearance despite being very old.
“How are my boys? Still plotting behind your father’s back?” Agatha teased, smiling mischievously.
In unison, all three Sylva brothers joyously said, “Hello, Mother!”
Adopting a concerned expression, Agatha said, “I sense your frustration and uncertainty. Tell me what is wrong.”
“Father does not take the Magnus threat seriously. He is content to wait for them to come to us after they unite the northern kingdoms behind them. He may be the Emperor, but he is a weak coward!” Gyran professed bitterly.
Agatha slapped Gyran in the face and scolded, “Everything you own is thanks to your father’s efforts! Do not mistake his caution for cowardice! If you want the Golden Age to come, you will do as he says! Do you understand me?”
Gyran quietly pouted as he looked down at the table.
Composing herself, Agatha gently said, “I know you are all uneasy about the threat the Magnuses may pose, but I assure you that your father and I have taken all of the necessary precautions. If the Magnuses decide to invade, we will be ready for them. Trust in us and the Golden Age will come.”
“I look forward to the Golden Age, mother. However, are you sure that the golden beast in the prophecy is our sigil, the gold gryphon?” Tytus asked intently.
“I would not have married your father if I was not sure,” Agatha replied.
CHAPTER 6
One week later . . .
On the eve of their brides’ arrival, the Magnus brothers were being groomed by the castle’s barbers. The barbers were shaving the princes and trimming their hair until they truly looked like royalty. As the barbers tended to their tasks, the Magnus brothers hummed a merry tune as they waited for their makeover to end. Soon enough, the barbers were humming along with their princes.
Eventually, Vaeron became bored and asked, “Do we really have to look this fancy?”
“This is supposed to be the masterstroke of Father’s reign. Therefore, we have to look good for the occasion. Besides, this makes us look more civil and less haggard like you, Vaeron,” Caelum explained irritably.
“I agree with Vaeron. Since we will all be fighting in the tourney, it would be meaningless for us to look this fancy,” Daegar commented.
Rolling his eyes, Caelum countered, “And that is why you two will make poor kings. You’re more concerned with fighting and hunting instead of the etiquette of the royal court. I have been training for such things more than either of you.”
Laughing mirthlessly, Kemrin bitterly said, “You lot are a bunch of fools! Can’t you see? We are all puppets in Father’s little games. That is our sole purpose in his eyes. This may sound treasonous, but I can’t wait for him to be out of our lives for good! Then we will be free to live as we please as our
own masters! Don’t tell me the thought never crossed your mind!”
The barbers briefly froze before continuing their work, while Kemrin’s brothers seemed both shocked yet understanding of Kemrin’s words.
“You forget that many of the barons in Umbran see our family as an illegitimate dynasty of usurpers. We may have our dragons and the vast wealth of the Ferruman mines under our command, but our family needs more than that it we are to keep our crown. Father knows this and that is why he has been so strict and controlling towards us. Alliances need to be made and personal sacrifices must be performed. As Father’s first born son and heir, you of all people should understand this, Kemrin,” Caelum explained coldly.
Suddenly, before the brother could argue further, Ymir Magnus entered the room and was a sight to behold. The princess wore a lavish black and gold dress and a fox pelt wrapped around her shoulders. Resting on her brow was a silver tiara adorned with sapphires. Tied to her belt was a seax with an antler handle. Ymir displayed a sly grin as she surveyed her older brothers, who looked at her with awe.
“You look lovely, sister,” Daegar praised.
“Aye. You truly resemble a princess of House Magnus,” Caelum remarked.
“If you weren’t our sister, I would marry you instead of Freya,” Vaeron added cheerfully.
“I can imagine every baron, knight, and prince in the coming weeks will court you,” Kemrin said, winking.
Blushing, Ymir shyly said, “My dear brothers. You are too kind. I certainly hope all of the barons, knights, and princes will bend to my will. You lot will show the northern kingdoms strength and valor, but I will show them wit and charm. With our combined efforts, the entire north will yield to us. When the coming weeks are over, we will be unstoppable, my brothers will be just as our Imperial ancestors were in their prime.”
Smiling with tremendous pride, Kemrin said, “By the gods, we are so fortunate to have a great sister like you.”
After that exchange, the Magnus siblings shared a joyful laugh together. When the barbers finished grooming the princes, they laughed along with their lieges. At that moment, a series of horns could be heard outside of the castle walls. Upon hearing the horns, the Magnus siblings immediately knew what they meant.
“They’ve arrived! You lot hurry and meet me outside!” Ymir ordered before running out of the room.
______
Lyra rode with her fellow princesses in an ornate carriage. The carriage was carved from golden wood with watery patterns while the interior was fashioned with scarlet cushions. Leading their carriage were ten white horses dressed in ceremonial garb. Outside of their windows, the four princesses could see their procession entourage, which consisted of over two thousand followers. After passing Umbran’s swampy southern border, the group were pleased to see the kingdom’s countryside was humming with the sights and sounds of early summer. Peasants would gather along the road to catch a glimpse of the princesses, cheering the entire time.
Each of the princesses wore their own uniquely designed dresses. Rosa wore a long-sleeved crimson gown decorated with platinum embroidery along with a livery studded with small marble roses. Yarma was draped in teal silk with jewelry pearls and seashells. Queen Mya wore ashen cotton with embroidery made from beaten iron and obsidian shards as well as her ancient crown resting on her brow. Freya looked more feral than her compatriots, with her attire completely consisting of animal furs and trinkets made from teeth, claws, and bones.
After sitting in uncomfortable silence all afternoon, Lyra asked, “Are you all ready for the wedding?”
Giggling, Yarma replied, “I certainly am! I look forward to teasing Caelum until the end of our days. We are going to have so much fun.”
“I am eager to hunt with Vaeron in the most dangerous woods in Storuuk. We will enjoy every minute of it,” Freya added.
“I am not concerned about the wedding itself as long as it serves to arrest my family’s decline. Besides, a political alliance with the newly wealthy Umbran will be an extra bonus for Varland,” Mya said, indifferent.
“You lot may have your own reasons to want to get married to the Magnus brothers, but I am not eager at all. I don’t care if I can further my bloodline or gain political resources. I like Kemrin as a friend, but I do not think he will be a faithful husband considering he has already fathered a few bastards. All I see is an unhappy marriage in my future,” Lyra bitterly mused.
“I’ve got news for you. You speak of bastards like they’re abominations, but my brother and I are bastards ourselves. All of our legitimate siblings died out, leaving our father with us as his only living heirs. You should be more careful when talking about bastards when I’m around. We all may be the same age, but I outrank you lot because I am a queen,” Mya chided.
Cringing slightly, Lyra said, “My apologies, Your Majesty. I did not know.”
“I understand your discomfort, Lyra. My brother often spends time with many mistresses when he visits the local tavern. A prince who spends his time like that probably doesn’t take his responsibilities seriously at all,” Freya commented.
Chuckling, Yarma said, “If my Caelum wants to have a mistress, he will be out of luck. I am not letting him out of my sight and I want him all to myself. If he does get a mistress, I will cut her and leave her for dead. No one gets my Caelum but me.”
“I feel the same way about Vaeron,” Freya said, sneering mischievously.
Scowling, Lyra said, “I am envious of you two. You two are marrying someone you truly love while I am left to marry someone I don’t love at all.”
Clearing her throat, Mya countered, “What we want is irrelevant in the end. If we were peasants, we would have been free to marry whoever we choose. However, that is not the life we live. We are royalty, and that status comes with responsibilities and obligations that we cannot ignore. Besides, this wedding will unify the northern kingdoms to a degree that has not existed in a thousand years. That will give us an era of peace we have not known for generations. Due to this, sacrificing our happiness is well worth the price in the end. You may not love Kemrin now, but I guarantee you will over time.”
At first, Lyra wanted to pout quietly, but her discomfort was disrupted when she caught sight of something extraordinary through the carriage window. In amazement, Lyra said, “We have been visiting Umbran every year, and this gets me every time I come here.”
Lyra’s compatriots looked out her window and shared her wonder. The procession was passing by the ruins of Chainhorn Castle, which was nothing but a few standing walls with melted stone dripping down their sides. The vegetation was enveloping what remained of the castle eighteen years after its destruction.
Softly, Mya whispered, “Take a good look at that, girls. That is the legacy of the family we are about to marry into. We each may have our own reasons for marrying the Magnus brothers, but the power to do this to castles will be at our command in the end. We have so much to gain from marrying the Magnuses apart from wealth, land, and political influence. With any luck, our children will master dragons of their own and we can use them to destroy our enemies. Just thinking about dragons is making me excited.”
After Chainhorn Castle vanished from view, a knight on horseback rode alongside the carriage and announced, “Your Highnesses, we are about to reach Magnus Keep.”
When the knight rode forth, Yarma licked her lips and mused, “I’m coming, my Caelum.”
______
An hour later, the procession arrived outside of Magnus Keep. Thanks to Umbran’s new Ferruman wealth, the stronghold formerly known as Blood Arrow had discarded its previously haunting architecture. In its place, the castle acquired a more regal and intimidating design with greatly improved towers and walls. The city next to the castle tripled in size with more fortified palisades and more active markets. Overall, the stronghold thrived in a way it never did under House Baal.
The procession came to a halt a mile outside of Magnus Keep’s gates and waited. Out of the main carriage emerg
ed the Magnus brides, who gazed upon the magnificent castle with awe and wonder. For a while, they watched the Magnus banners flapping in the wind on top of the battlements.
“How long must we wait?” Yarma asked.
“Until they make their grand entrance. No doubt they are planning something dramatic as they always do,” Lyra said, rolling her eyes.
“What’s wrong with a dramatic entrance? Those are the only kinds of entrances royalty should make, especially when they dragons under their command,” Mya pointed out.
“I’m going to get in trouble for saying this, but I think it would be fun to hunt a dragon. Out of all of the quarries in the world, dragons seem like a hunter’s ultimate prize,” Freya said.
“Be careful not to say that around the Magnuses,” Mya chided Freya.
At that moment, a series of shrieking bellows tore through the atmosphere, forcing the procession to look up and see six dragons descending from the sky above them. The great beasts casted enormous shadows on the ground as their large wings blocked out the sun. After several dramatic moments, the majestic reptiles landed a few feet from the procession. On their backs were the members of House Magnus dressed in the finest black and gold garb and Ferruman embroidery. The Magnus children each wore simple gold circlets that symbolized their statuses as princes and princess, while Numen wore his signature Ferruman crown. Overall, the Magnuses looked less like royalty and more like gods among mortals.
The Magnus brides could see their respective grooms looking down at them from on top of their dragons. Yarma and Freya displayed giddy expressions while Lyra and Mya merely bowed curtly. Amongst the glances and partial silence, the dragons growled and gurgled as they gazed upon the procession, smoke slithering out of their nostrils.
Smiling, Numen announced, “Greetings, my fellow northerners! I hope the journey was not too difficult. Come in and enjoy the rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow we will have our wedding and the first unification of the northern kingdoms in over a thousand years!”
The War of the Gilded Beasts Page 5