by Nyk Nova
“Every day,” Flint said. “The issues are normally delegated out to the organizations responsible for such matters. Traditionally they are dealt with on local levels. The palace only looks into Guild and military matters. Unless there is a planet-wide protest, The Emperor hasn’t the time to focus on so much.”
“The information was, however, requested by the Emperor Temporea,“ Administrator Sel said from the other side of the war room table.
“Do you not get tired of calling my title in that way?” Pan asked.
“But Emperor Temporea is what you are,” Sel went on. “A place holder until the Mantle is passed to a more permanent holder.”
“Very well. Then my first act will be to abolish the Temporea status and declare myself as Emperor Permanerea.”
“Impossible!” Flint said.
The entire room went in to an uproar at Pan’s declaration. There were a small minority who agreed with Pan’s decision while the majority of his advisors were completely against it. Pan’s eyes narrowed, angered by those who thought they could tell him what he was allowed to and not to do.
“If I may, Emperor,” Sel said.
“Silence, all of you!” Pan shouted.
All looked at him with shock.
“Emperor Dom Argus never spoke in such a way,” Flint said, disappointedly.
“Well, I am not Dom Argus. And I do not believe in conducting state business as my father did. Temporea or not. I still wear the Mantle. That alone commands respect. Now, Administrator Sel, if you have some notion the others haven’t, please.”
“Thank you.” Sel bowed his head then looked out to the others. “Fellow advisors, while I do share some of your sentiments, I also believe that with the rise of every new Emperor, a new Osceria rises as well. Pan Argus is no different. And it is true that as Emperor Temporea, there are certain actions he cannot, legally, enforce. Declaring himself Permanerea is one of those.”
“Sel?” Pan asked, growing annoyed.
“Patience, Emperor,” Sel went on. “There is one particular action that you can take. The halting of elections.”
“Now just a minute—”
“Advisor Flint,” Sel interrupted. “Osceria is a democratic and monarchial society. Without a ruler, we must rely on the people to decide who wears the title of Emperor. But those decisions can be slowed.”
“For how long?” Pan asked, eagerly.
“For as long as Emperor Temporea wishes.”
“You cannot!” Flint shouted.
“And if Pan Argus wishes to hold off on elections, that would make him, in effect, Emperor Permanerea.”
Pan’s mouth formed a small smile. Those were words he was hoping would be spoken. A final path to his ultimate rulership.
The other advisors in the room took note of his reaction, muttering amongst themselves. Some debated an overthrow. Others feared what such an action would bring.
“We are not Lugazians,” Flint said.
Sel pondered the words carefully. “Administrator Flint makes a fair point. In our current state, halting elections would make us very much like Lugaz. And they would not give you full authority as Emperor Permanerea.”
“An Argus has been Emperor since the days of my grandfather five generations back. Aurtune Argus decreed the passing of the Mantle only through the Argus name,” Pan said.
“A tradition. Not a law,” Flint fired back.
Pan calmed himself. His advisors had a point. And until he was made Permanerea, he did not yet have the authority he sought to enforce.
“A tradition that has brought much prosperity to Osceria,” Sel argued.
Pan turned to Sel. “There would need to be candidates in place for an election to occur, correct?”
Sel only nodded the affirmative.
“Then unless, one rises up in this very room, I have heard of no such people,” Pan said.
“Then I am afraid, Emperor Temporea,” Flint leaned on the word, making sure Pan understood his true place despite his preferences. “You have not paid much attention to the desires of the people. A crucial task for any Emperor.” Flint scrolled through the feed screen and pulled up the feed of one man talking to a crowd. “This is Lyl Scade. He was already discussing the absurdity of crowning Kade’Tor Lorenth as Emperor. And with you as Temporea he has gained favor to earn the Mantle.”
Flint switched to a different feed. One was of a woman who had gathered an even bigger crowd. “B’wryn Dar had similar words. Except she stands against you and has thrown her bid in for the Mantle.” He scrolled through several more feeds all detailing the same story. There were others who wanted to rule.
“Absurd!” Pan yelled. “I have been bred for this since before my birth! It is my right as an Argus! How could any of them think themselves my better?”
“It occurs to me, that Pan Argus has two choices,” Sel said. “It is up to you whether or not an election is open to the citizens, or…”
“Speak, Administrator.”
“Or, if the Emperor Temporea truly is better than those who seek the Mantle, perhaps prove it in an election.”
Pan’s eyes slowly moved to Flint, rage boiling inside him that any of his advisors stood in his way of rule. “I imagine that would make you exceedingly happy.”
“If these candidates rally enough of the citizens, you may have no choice. No matter how you wear the Mantle, the Emperor is always for the people. It is a law that—”
“I will surely change when my rule is permanent.” Pan walked to a chair and dropped into it. His appearance was more that of a petulant child than a man of authority. He took the crown off his head and gazed at it, displeased that what he considered unequivocally his could be taken away so easily. And by the very people he was supposed to be in control over.
The others stayed still, waiting for Pan’s wrath or acceptance of what seemed to be an unavoidable event. No one wanted to say anything for fear of swaying him. It was a critical moment. One which everyone feared could change everything in Osceria for the worse.
“My father created the election process,” Pan said. “I never thought such a thing was necessary. Nor did I think such a day would come. Certainly not in my lifetime. Yet, here we are. Debating about whether or not I give up what is rightfully mine.”
“The Mantle and those who wear it belong to the people,” Flint said.
“And I suppose there is no way to stop such a thing?”
“You may halt it, yes,” Sel reminded. “But civil unrest could overthrow you. As I see things, there is only one way to stop…” Sel searched for the right word. “Usurpers. If there are no opposing candidates then there can be no election.”
“You saw them yourself, Administrator Sel.”
“Indeed I did, Advisor Flint. But that does not mean they will continue. Especially if offered the right incentive.”
Pan laughed. “As if I would give any of them any part of the palace fortune— My fortune.”
“It is meant for the people. Not the Emperor’s personal use,” Flint said.
“I will not give a single coin to these usurpers. I will halt the elections for as long as it takes. And if there is an attempted coup. I will show them the true power of an Argus.”
The other advisors set back to whispering amongst themselves. Flint looked around the room. It was difficult to tell who sided with him and who didn’t.
“Short of a friendly word, a payoff would be the only way to stop your opponents,” Flint said.
“I would disagree with the Advisor,” Sel said. “But I must also disagree with showing the Emperor’s true power. If monetary incentive is not to Pan Argus’s liking, perhaps there is another way. One that ensures no others present themselves for the Mantle. Something more permanent?”
Pan cocked his head to one side. There was something in Sel’s voice. Something that betrayed his meaning.
“Leave us,” Pan ordered.
“What are you planning?” Flint asked.
“Temporea
or Permanerea, as advisors to the Emperor, you are all bound to follow my orders, are you not?”
Flint looked back at the other advisors, hoping even one of them would stand with him. None came forward in protest. Flint was alone, further subjecting him to one he deemed unfit for the Mantle.
Without another word, the advisors bowed their head to Pan’s authority and left the room. Sel accompanied them to the door, ensuring that no one lingered back to eavesdrop.
He locked the door and made his way back to the feed table.
“Speak,” Pan ordered.
“A moment, Emperor.” Sel drew out a remote from his pocket. He raised the device and pressed its single button. “Perfect. That should dampen any devices which might be installed.”
“Who would dare?”
“One never knows. And now a solution to this problem. One that may benefit us both. I have special— I call them agents—individuals who excel at dispatching certain people when the need arises.”
“Dispatch?” Pan asked, uncertain of the meaning.
“I think the Emperor Temporea know exactly my meaning.”
28
The streets of the Capital City were still bustling with the news of Dom Argus’s passing. Most of the words were those of disbelief that it had even happened. While others were more concerned with who did it. Theories of Kade having planned it all along were numerous while others who still believed in the victor of the war thought it some kind of trick. As though someone had controlled him. Then there were the few who just wanted life to go back to normal, feeling the loss of an Emperor meant little when another would just take his place. Osceria had always been ruled by a single individual. Something those few were sure would never change.
Hover cars sped by, their operators on the way to work. Those on foot, stayed along the sidewalks. A few of them stopped to listen to a man as he spoke to a growing crowd. Lyle Scade spoke with a fire and a passion that had ignited many in the crowd.
“…And what good would a general have been as Emperor? Someone who knew nothing but battle would have surely resolved everything with the sword.”
The crowd cheered at Lyl’s words.
“But an Argus has always been Emperor!” someone yelled from the crowd. “Kade would have changed that!”
“After his atrocious act, he would have changed more than that. Kade’Tor Lorenth was never fit for the Mantle. We all know this. And yet our great, late Emperor Dom Argus saw fit to pass it to him. Never once asking us. You all saw how he was repaid. Is that the kind of Oscerian we would want as Emperor?”
The crowd roared ‘No’ in unison.
“Of course not. But who’s to say the current Mantle bearer is any better?”
“Pan Argus has already called for the military reserves to act alongside the law forces!” a woman yelled from the crowd.
“Exactly. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t live on Lugaz.”
The comparison between the two worlds gave way to even louder cheers. The crowd around Lyl Scade was growing larger and larger, already threatening to spill out in to the busy street.
“Our Emperor Temporea is just as unknown as Kade was. You’ve seen him, though. Maybe you’ve even heard his disliking of his father’s decrees. He is nothing like Dom Argus. And if he already seeks to increase the weight of our law forces by way of our military, then what else is he planning to do? I say we carry on Dom Argus’s wish for an end to the reign of Argus. I say we rid Osceria of an Emperor choosing who is next in line. I say we demand an election!” Lyl yelled.
Fists rose into the air and cheers echoed up between the buildings.
“And if you’ll have me, I’d like to put my own name into the selection. Those who enjoyed the late Emperor’s rule, I ask that you follow me. If I wear the Mantle, I promise continued prosperity for Osceria and her allies.”
It was not the same size crowd as that during the victory celebration but it was rapidly getting there as people joined in the chanting of Lyl Scade’s name. The man himself smiled, graciously as he stepped through the crowd, shaking all the hands that he could.
“Thank you. Thank you all,” he said to those on the outer edge of the crowd as he made his way to a side street.
The hover car was modest. An indicator of Lyl’s financial status. He was not a man of great wealth but his convictions and his words had been enough to get the others to rally behind him.
He climbed into his vehicle and pressed the engine start button. There was a clanking sound but no start. A feed screen popped up just in front of his steering wheel, indicating an engine malfunction.
Lyl stepped back out and noticed a citizen across the street with a large feed screen above their heads. It offered an alternative candidate for Emperor, B’wryn Dar. “As long as it’s not Kade’Tor Lorenth or Pan Argus.” He smiled, knowing the people were doing more than rallying behind the candidates of their choice. They were voicing their concern and flexing their power as one. Not since the very first Emperor of Osceria had their been such a showing of collective voices, all vying for change. Lyle didn’t know what this new change would bring about. He did not know if it would lead to a peaceful resolve or if it would lead to violent outbursts. No one in his lifetime had ever seen anything like this and the whole matter was just born. The only certainty he held was that the current Mantle bearer was unfit to rule.
Lyl walked to the front of the hover car and looked down at the hood. As he reached for it, he was approached by a couple. Both of them extended their hands to him and thanked him for his bravery.
“We’re just so touched that anyone would do what you’re doing,” the woman said. “You and all the other candidates.”
“How many are there?” Lyl asked.
“More than enough,” the man told him. “I think Pan Argus is going to have a heavy amount of competition.”
“But no matter who wins,” the woman added. “We believe in you. This is the change Osceria needs. You have our vote, Lyl Scade.”
“Well, thank you. I do appreciate that.” He shook their hands once more and watched them walk away, both in high spirits. Lyl smiled, confident in his decision. He didn’t know how good his chances of winning were but he knew that if there really were that many candidates, it was going to be a tough election process. And toughest of all for Pan Argus.
He looked across the street at a series of statues, all emperors from the line of Argus. Starting with Aurtune to Dom and no doubt, Pan would be added if elected. It made Lyl wonder if the Emperor Temporea even knew he’d need a platform to stand on. “He’ll probably just tout the Mantle as his birthright.”
Lyl returned his attention to his car where he pressed the hood activator. With one click of the button, the hood popped up and Lyl reached underneath to lift it. As he did so, there was another clicking sound followed by a high pitched whine.
“What is—”
The popular candidate didn’t get the hood even halfway up before the entire hover car exploded.
29
Arista Argus sat at a large desk against the wall in her room. It was an old heirloom, unmoved from the room since its first day put in. On the desk, she read from a feed screen. The text had been transcribed from an old book. Arista had never seen a real book before. Only the feed screens provided forms of data and literature. She was certain the historians had missed things. The history of Osceria alone was too vast to find everything. Who knew just how much was lost to time.
Her finger swiped the screen, moving from one page to another. “Pan thinks me ignorant of our home.” Her eyes read the text, line by line. She was familiar with many of Osceria’s laws. So much so that it was easy for her to tell which ones had been abolished and which were newly enacted. “Even father thought me ill-studied in our history. I doubt Pan even knows of this,” she said.
Osceria had two Empresses in its history. It was such a rare occurrence that an Emperor would pass the Mantle to a woman, most of the planet had never
known it to have happened at all. Even some historians doubted it. Arista had little designs on the Mantle herself but Pan’s amusement at the idea that it could be passed to her had gotten under her skin. Even if the text she read didn’t prove anything, her father’s words did. At the end of it all, an Emperor’s words were all that were necessary. Of course, in Pan’s case, that might not work out too well.
She swiped for another page but a news broadcast filled her screen, minimizing the text she was reading.
“Attention,” the newscaster said. “This report is going out to all feed screens across all data bands. Be advised, there is a high death toll in the Capital City. Not long ago, potential candidate for the Mantle of Emperor, Lyl Scade, was killed in a tragic explosion. Coroners report the engine of his hover car ignited and blew up with him standing just outside of it. No one else in the vicinity was hurt but we want to be sure that citizens are cautious when dealing with their vehicles. B’wryn Dar was also found dead, at roughly the same time. There are still no clues as to how she died. As I understand it, investigators are still surveying the scene. B’wryn Dar was also a candidate for the Mantle. So far, authorities believe these two incidents to be unrelated. But further inquiries are being made as both victims did share the common relation that they were opponents of Emperor Temporea Pan Argus and his claim to the Mantle. As for whether or not these terrible deaths were accidents or the results of foul play is still unknown and law officials are asking that no assumptions be made as of yet. We will keep the citizens informed as this story develops.
Arista sat back in her chair and stared at the screen, shocked at the similarities. “Pan, you wouldn’t.”
30
The throne room of the Oscerian palace was well lit with open windows between the columns above the floor. Flags with the Emperor’s seal hung down from the ceiling, blowing gently from the outside breeze.