At that point, Ness’s grin grew uncomfortably wide.
Emily looked at him, her nose scrunching up at the sight. “That’s really creepy,” she said in disgust, but he only fished out an official-looking envelope and handed it to her.
“You’re going to love this,” he said.
Emily flipped the envelope over, noticing the cracked wax seal bearing the imprint of the Ejani imperial sun. Then she withdrew the folded sheets of paper from within and began reading.
The letter was addressed to her father and had been signed by Helis, the Ejani Captain of the Guard. It was nothing more than a long list of names, each followed by a city. Emily flipped through the pages. There must have been hundreds of them.
“What is it?” she asked.
“That was my first reaction as well.” Ness sifted through the stack of papers on his lap before seizing on one. “But then, I saw this. It’s a Wind Speak strip from Lord I’nu Aleen, the head of the Aleen Company and current chairmen of the Bank of Tijar.”
Emily accepted the long strip of paper and scanned the contents. “He’s asking about the wellbeing of his son, Uric Aleen…” She could feel Ness’s excited gaze on her as she read through the layers and layers of wordplay, finally reaching the part which had likely caught his attention. “Lord Aleen’s son was in Arna?” she asked, not wanting to trust in something so readily.
“Not only was he in Arna, he was likely killed there,” Ness said, falling back on the bed with laughter. “That first letter from Helis, it’s a list of people that are missing or confirmed dead after the purges. Look at them all: nobles and merchant lords from all over the place.”
“It can’t be…” Emily said, as she read through the papers again. She had thought it likely some influential people would have been mistakenly harmed by the chaos unleashed, but this was too good to be true. She again took up the first letter. There he was: Uric Aleen, Arna was listed on the first page.
“There’s more,” Ness said as he passed her another strip. “This one is from the Crane Company, another of the big three.”
Emily again accepted it, feeling numb as she read through the outrage being voiced in the message. “Four cousins to the head of the Crane Company…” she muttered under her breath. “This is… amazing. How could they have fucked up so badly?”
“And that’s just Tijar! There are letters and strips from all over: Jannatin, Odana, Archigal. Apparently, only Ejani nobles and merchants were evacuated from the cities before the Serpents moved in.” Ness struck his knees repeatedly as he laughed again. “You’d think the Imperial Crown Prince wanted to go to war with the whole Eastern Peninsula!”
Emily looked at the stack of papers Ness had taken from her father’s office. “We can exploit this…” she said, a plan forming in her head.
Ness grinned, before handing her a clean sheet of paper and some writing implements. “Remember when I said this little revolt wasn’t going to work? I’ve changed my mind. If you play this right, you’re going to be a force to reckon with.”
Emily smiled. Of all the factions, it was Tijar who would most likely be interested in funding a budding revolution. She might have not known any of the company heads or the chairman of the Bank of Tijar by name before now, but as the daughter of the late Satrap of Fermont, she knew of the longstanding tension between themselves and the Ejani Empire.
The Bank of Tijar wanted everyone to use its currency, something it had already achieved in the Eastern Peninsula. But the Ejani Empire minted its own coin. Worse, they had banned the use of Tijarii coin everywhere other than its Eastern Provinces—and only allowed that since most of the trade here was conducted with the factions of the Eastern Peninsula. More specifically, most of the trade was conducted in Fermont, and she couldn’t help but see how interested the Tijarii might be in having a Fermont free of the Ejani. Not only would it help spread the use of their currency in this part of the world, but there was the added bonus of destabilizing their competitor—and exacting revenge for those family members lost.
The Free State of Tijar claimed neutrality, and only maintained an army for protection purposes, but Emily was sure they would find a way around that. There was no faction more capable of funding and supplying her.
While Ness watched, she slowly wrote a letter to the chairman of the Bank of Tijar detailing her plan and how he could support it, the still strange absence of her right eye forcing her to move her head from side to side to keep track of her words.
When she was done, she paused before signing her name. Should she sign it as Emilia Fermont?
No, Emilia was dead now. Just like the rest of her family. She would need to be something else—a persona people would follow, but who would also strike fear into her enemies. She wrote down a name and grinned before folding the letter. “Think you can get this delivered?” she asked.
“I might know someone,” Ness said with a wink. “But you’ll need to seal it.”
Emily took the sealing wax Ness provided, holding it against the fire crystal until it softened. Then she let the wax drip upon the folded letter. Realizing she didn’t have a seal, she instead pressed her thumb into the wax—the heat stung a little, but she was far too excited to care.
But when she pulled her thumb back, she frowned as she stared at the ridges and swirls it had left upon the now-cooling wax, her excitement fading. With this one press of her finger, she was opening a door which might lead to far-reaching consequences neither she nor anyone else could truly foresee. Was she really going to invite a foreign faction into this mess? Depending on how the Free State of Tijar reacted, this would escalate matters immeasurably.
She traced the seal as Ness leaned forward, no doubt noticing the hesitation. “Emi?” he asked gently.
His voice brought another thought to mind: his father, Jaz. All those years he had taken care of her. The brutal purging of Arna, the city which had become her home. Her resolve now hardened, Emily picked up the letter and handed it to Ness.
“Do it,” she commanded.
Chapter 5
Aziel shifted his weight as he tried and failed to find a comfortable position on the marble throne. It had seemed fitting for receiving guests, but this was the first time he had sat upon it—and honestly, he was not enjoying it.
Celia sashayed into the throne room, past several of the larger Grauda warrior males posted by the entrance. “They have arrived,” she announced with a grin as she advanced between the stark obsidian columns that lined the room. The large black and silver Caelian banners which had hung from the arched ceilings and walls were gone; on Aziel’s orders, they and all other ancient Caelian regalia had been removed. Though he liked the ancient imperial heraldry, the rising phoenix suiting his idea of the Fallen, that did not change the fact that it represented a whole other culture and faction—albeit one that no longer existed. Even altered, the Caelian phoenix was simply too well-known and would likely cause confusion. He was not the second coming of the Caelian Empire, after all. A new heraldry would be a task for a later time, so for now the walls remained bare.
Celia stepped up to the throne and bent to kiss his lips briefly before seating herself on the right armrest, grinning as her tail slid behind him and wrapped around his waist possessively.
“I must say, this is much better than that rock you love so much. I actually have a place to sit here,” she said, getting comfortable. “Other than on you, of course.”
In reply, Aziel caught the blunt arrow-shaped tip of her tail in one hand, causing Celia to let out a surprised gasp before grinning and giving him a sideways look. He couldn’t hold back his own grin; she really was insatiable.
“Any idea what they want?” Aziel asked. Astrel had gone with an escort to meet their guests, who were understandably confused to find the original entrance blocked.
“Hm?” Celia replied distractedly. “Oh, the Dryads. No idea. Perhaps to join the faction?”
A throaty chuckle sounded from one side, as Vhal close
d the white-bound air grimoire he had been reading. “That’s a possibility,” he said, taking up his position on the left-hand side of the throne, “but it’s more likely they just want a measure of you, my Lord.”
Aziel shrugged at that, but then turned to Vhal with a question. “Is there a reason why I should not meet them in my place of power?”
Vhal leant forward on his staff. “While I think letting others know of your… let’s call it impressive endowment…”—here Celia gave the lich a flat look at his choice of words—“is a valid strategy for recruitment, in this case it is best to keep your cards hidden.”
Aziel frowned. “We let the Grauda in, did we not? And that worked in our favor, I would say.”
Vhal stroked his beard. “The difference, my Lord, is intent. The Grauda came here with your Champion with the express purpose of possibly becoming your followers if they deemed you worthy, which they since have. These Dryads gave no indication of their intentions. As far as we know… we are at best in a tenuous peace with them—if not an outright undeclared war. You did kill one of them rather gruesomely, if you recall, even if it was in self-defense.”
“As much as I hate to say this,” Celia interjected, “I agree with Vhal.” The admission seemed to hurt her physically. “Until we know what they want, we should treat this meeting like a negotiation rather than a tour of what the Fallen have to offer. It seems a good sign they wished to talk, though.”
Aziel nodded slowly, glancing at the guards posted around the throne room. He hoped things would not turn violent; his anxiety over this meeting made it clear how much he wanted—no, needed—the Dryads as his followers. While the eighty percent reduction in the drain on his mana that had accompanied his successful claim was a welcome change, and freely moving around in the Central Wilds was now possible for extended periods of time, his goal wasn’t to reduce the drain but to overcome it, even when leaving his territory entirely. The Dryads’ assimilation into his faction would be a massive leap forward in that regard.
Celia put one hand on his back and stroked it gently. Aziel turned to see her watching him with a small smile, which helped him relax. Smiling back, he took a deep breath as the throne room’s double door swung open, the creak of their hinges and the groan of the ancient wood reverberating through the hall. Astrel strode in first, flanked by several Grauda females and males in full armor, their guests following close behind.
Aziel watched the approaching group of stunningly beautiful women—for there were only women in the Dryads’ delegation. Ever since his link had been forged with Celia, Aziel had suspicions about how much being marked by a Succubus had affected him. One thing was certain: Celia’s extensive education sessions had made him more appreciative of the female form.
The seven Dryads before him had him speechless, until Aziel felt a finger under his chin, forcing his jaw closed. He could sense Celia’s tail tighten around him as she leaned down to whisper softly into his ear, her hot breath tickling him, “I thought I was the insatiable one.” Aziel swallowed audibly, trying to hide his embarrassment at being caught out.
The Dryads glanced around the throne room, some of the younger-looking ones gazing openly at the exorbitant wealth on display. Aziel couldn’t blame them: they had walked through a rocky tunnel only to suddenly enter a room full of white marble, gold, silver and obsidian, all glittering beneath the light-emitting crystals scattered above.
The delegation was separated into two distinct groups. The first consisted of four Dryads who looked very similar to what he remembered of Amber, with their emerald-colored hair and green skin. Though the precise shades of their skin differed—some darker and others lighter tones—overall the impression was similar. One thing they did not share with Amber, however, was their clothing, in that these women were wearing some: a collection of leaves, flowers and vines which Aziel couldn’t have imagined turning into dresses, but the Dryads had somehow managed to do. Their dresses ranged from those that reached only midway down their thighs, to longer ones which fell all the way to the ground and trailed behind their owners. Some had plunging necklines, while others looked almost conservative, but all were striking and elegant.
The second group of three Dryads stood in stark contrast to the first. Instead of soft greens, they were a riot of oranges and reds. In place of elegant dresses, this group wore what seemed to be armor made of wood, and the more Aziel looked at it the more impressive it appeared. From the way it hugged their forms, and the small but detailed carvings across its smooth surface, it was like a piece of wearable art doubling as armor.
These more warrior-like Dryads also wielded wooden shields, spears and an assortment of intricate weapons, which if his senses were not deceiving him were all mana-infused. Their skin was a dark brown, which made their bright orange eyes and hair stand out in contrast. Given their choice of weapons and attire, it was no surprise their bodies were also more fit and muscled.
They were all gorgeous, and exuded an erotic energy Aziel had a difficult time ignoring. He tried to keep his thoughts in check, and that’s when it hit him: he knew this feeling, this uncontrollable and in many ways unnatural attraction. It was the same feeling Celia’s Succubus ability had over him at first, only less subtle. He wondered if they were in any way attracted to him in return—he might be having the same effect on them, due to his Mark of the Succubi trait.
This realization puzzled Aziel, even as he tried to control his response. Why would Dryads have the same sort of attraction traits as a Succubus? He was fairly certain they weren’t demons, so Siphoning wasn’t the reason. Was it something they could control?
As his guests stopped in front of the dais, Aziel focused himself and quickly examined their vessels. Unsurprisingly, they were all mana weavers: some of earth, others of nature. There were two exceptions, however: one Dryad in each group was both, and their vessels were considerably larger than the rest.
Their Grauda escort moved to either side of the group, taking up defensive positions around the dais as Astrel came to stand to the right of his throne, beside Celia. Aziel looked first to one group, then the other, unsure who to address first.
In response, one member of each group—the two dual-mana weavers, he realized—took a few steps forward to introduce themselves.
From the first group a tall, green-haired woman approached, whose soft and musical voice had an unnatural calming effect that unconsciously made him smile. “I am Rosaline, Blossom of the Rosa Grove,” she said, as she lowered herself into well-practiced curtsy, her voice somehow both respectful and sultry at the same time. Aziel again felt himself drawn by her allure and had to stop himself from staring. Dimly, he remembered Amber introducing herself as a Dryad of the Rosa Grove.
The second Dryad waited for Rosaline to finish before introducing herself. “Rhene, Blossom of the Crimson Grove,” she announced bluntly, her voice also pleasant to Aziel’s ears, but it was her tone that caught him by surprise. Unlike Rosaline, Rhene didn’t seem to want to be here.
He examined her more closely as she rose from her brief bow. Short, dark-red hair covered her head and her bright orange eyes stared at Aziel unblinkingly. She wore a beautiful set of wooden armor which fitted her muscled body flawlessly, and was well-armed with a shield, spear and dagger, all of which had tiny earth crystals embedded in them and hints of mana running through them. While her demeanor and that of her group was somewhat antagonistic, she made no obviously aggressive moves.
Curious, Aziel almost instinctively activated his All-Seeing Eye, but stopped himself. Even if he didn’t take into account the pain associated with using the skill in his current condition, Inspecting his guests would be considered rude, and would increase the chances of an undesirable outcome.
The two lead Dryads glanced from him to his companions in tense silence, the other Dryads holding their positions behind. He hoped they had not come here for some kind of fight. If so, it would end quite badly for them. While he couldn’t yet weave effectively, he had two
Elders by his side. From what he felt of the Dryads’ vessels, he deduced the two Blossoms were likely of higher rank, with Rosaline having the larger vessel of the two. The rest of the Dryads were Lesser Enlightened.
Aziel bowed his head respectfully. “My name is Aziel, Lord of the Fallen. I welcome you to Soul’s Rest.” He then smiled, to show that he meant them no harm. “I do apologize for the dust, as we are undergoing some renovations.”
Vhal introduced himself next, but it seemed Celia wanted to make it crystal clear who they were dealing with.
“I’m Celia, Ascended’s Champion,” she announced. The two lead Dryads didn’t react, but the ones at the back glanced at each other, their posture stiffening at this declaration.
Aziel glanced quickly at Celia, surprised she would volunteer the information that he was an Ascended. Though, thinking about it, he would be surprised if the Dryads had not suspected this—the spell used to bring down Whiteridge was far too powerful to be weaved alone by any other than an Ascended. He refocused his attention on his guests. “Now that the introductions are over, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Rosaline smiled, her beauty and soft facial features causing Aziel’s heart to beat faster. From the smirk on Celia’s face, she had noticed his response.
“Lord Aziel of Soul’s Rest, my blossom sister and I,” she said, with a slow sideways movement of her arm toward the second lead Dryad, “have come to broker peace. The Sister Groves do not wish to quarrel with you or the Fallen.”
The red-haired Dryad narrowed her eyes at that, but said nothing.
Aziel looked at Vhal, who nodded slightly. “I also do not seek to fight with you, but the fact remains that I and my Champion were attacked by one of your own without reason or provocation,” Aziel said clearly. “There is also the small detail of my control over the region.” He looked directly at the red-haired group of Dryads, adding, “I do not know why the Crimson Grove seeks to end hostilities, as we never entered into any in the first place.”
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