Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  Yet it was precisely the lack of a Magitech device and the small amount of mana within the wax which had kept him from opening this letter for the last two days. Even if the guild did not know where the message would go, without Magitech or a much more powerful source of air mana, they knew it couldn’t be far. Not far at all, in fact. The amount of mana Wind Speak used was exponentially related to the length and the distance the message had to travel. The late captain Alistair had used thumb-sized crystals to send a single message to Golan from Whiteridge.

  Given the quantity of mana in the wax, this signal wouldn’t make it out of the capital.

  The simplest solution was to open the letter within the Dome of Silence. That device would block all messages and sounds from leaving its field of effect. Lucius leaned back on his chair, drained. Like all other Magitech devices, it required crystals. The Dome of Silence needed air crystals, to be exact, crystals they were in a critical shortage of. All the kingdom’s remaining store were being used to monitor the border to ensure word of the Jannatin army’s movements reached the capital and Bastion, their foremost and strongest means of defense. The castle was located in the Ranvine river delta, designed to be completely surrounded by the waters for protection purposes, and had been fully maintained and garrisoned despite Maiv’s economic troubles.

  The Jannatin embargo had dried up almost all of the kingdom’s lines of trade with other factions, and those who remained were careful in what they offered. The trade in crystals—or anything that could be used to wage war, even indirectly—had stopped completely for fear of Jannatin condemnation. Even the Free State of Tijar, the champions of free trade, found it difficult to justify what they called the immense risk of going against the Empire, especially for the low returns Maiv had to offer.

  Three knocks came from the door, and Lucius turned in his chair in time to see one of the royal guard step inside.

  “Majesty,” the guard said as he bowed his head respectfully. “Your guests have arrived, and your daughter’s maid asked to inform you that Princess Lucienne has not eaten her meal today. She said you requested that she report this to you if it happened again.”

  The king nodded. “Thank you. I will visit my daughter once I’m done here. Let the mages in,” he commanded, and the royal guard bowed again and closed the door behind him.

  Lucius stared at the unopened letter in his hand. His daughter had returned to him a different person after that cursed trip to the Wilds. She blamed herself for what had happened there, even though he had repeatedly told her it was not her fault.

  True, the Wild had been lost, and the deaths in Whiteridge would be felt deeply. The Princedoms of Odana’s lack of continued support for their kingdom was also a painful blow. With that said, however, a secure northern border was not something to scoff at in these trying times.

  Lucienne had secured a peace with this Aziel character and his Fallen. They would not attack the kingdom unprovoked. And with the Wilds claimed by a different faction, the Jannatins could not use it as a path for their armies to attack Maiv, not unless they also sought to wage war with the Fallen. Lord Aziel’s showcase of his magical prowess and willingness to use it made that unlikely. If—or more likely, when—they invaded Maiv, the Jannatins would now be forced to use the narrow eastern border they shared, and ford the Ranvine Delta. Not an easy task for a large host. It also made Bastion’s position in the Delta perfect for holding back their forces.

  Another three knocks came from behind him and the door swung open again. The royal guard entered and stepped to one side. An old man flanked by two middle-aged men in thick white robes followed. Each held a thick leather-bound tome and wore a necklace made of large orbs, which jingled gently with their every step.

  “You Highness,” the older man said, before they all bowed at the waist to their king.

  “Please, take your seats,” Lucius replied with a gesture to the chairs beside him.

  “We thank you,” the older man said, as each visitor gathered their heavy robes up and lowered themselves into a waiting chair.

  “You are Fero, correct?” Lucius asked. “I have not been informed of the names of your fellows.”

  The older man laughed. “That is correct, your Highness. These are my apprentices. They are here to observe and perhaps assist.”

  “There is never a bad time to learn. I hope you two will use your abilities for the good of the kingdom,” Lucius said with a smile.

  “You honor us,” the one to the left said, while the one to the right simply bowed his head.

  “Your archmage boasts of your abilities, Fero. Do you think you can do it?”

  Fero laughed again. “It is easy to be the best air weaver when you are the only one in the kingdom.” The old mage glanced at his apprentices. “The only fully-trained one at least, a title I hope to lose soon.” He then furrowed his brow as he pulled open a latch on his tome and opened it. “Intercepting a Wind Speak message is difficult, but possible. Does this mean you have decided to open the letter?

  “I have,” Lucius replied and raised the letter for all to see. “Do you need to do anything to prepare?”

  Fero smiled. “No, not exactly. But we will all try to intercept it, just to be safe. You may open the letter whenever you are ready.” He then closed his eyes, and his two apprentices followed suit.

  King Lucius watched them, then glanced back at the letter he held before gently positioning the knife under the wax. He hesitated for a split-second before sliding it upward. The wax seal cracked, and the flap of the envelope flipped open.

  The king waited, but nothing happened. He felt suddenly foolish—what had he been expecting? He drew the thick sheet of paper out, and noticed that the letterhead had an insignia of three roses set in a parallel line on a white kite shield. It was the same as his own faction’s, but this one also boasted the Jannatin celestial stars in each corner. He glanced back at the mages.

  “Anything?” he asked. Fero and his apprentices opened their eyes. Each wore a different expression, but all were variants on either confusion or disappointment. They began whispering to one another and Lucius waited until he could be patient no longer.

  “Well?” he said, his annoyance showing.

  Fero pressed his lips together then shook his head, tersely. “I am fairly certain we have intercepted the spell, your Highness.” He paused to glance at his apprentices, then back to the king. “We are just unsure of what it is, exactly.”

  Lucius raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Fero let out a sigh. “It wasn’t a message… or should I say, there was no message. It was more of a… signal. A notice that the letter was opened. There were no words.”

  Lucius remained silent as he absorbed this. So, it was simply a way for someone close by to know that the letter had been opened? The effort involved in the enchantment seemed too intricate and complex for an outcome so simple. Why would the Jannatins even care to know if he opened it? He shook his head, puzzled.

  “Thank you, Fero, you are excused. I will be sure to tell the archmage of your valuable aid.”

  Fero and his apprentices stood and bowed their heads before leaving the room.

  Alone again, Lucius shifted his attention back to the page he held. The letter was addressed to him, but it referred to him as a “usurper.” His eyes flicked back and forth, scanning the contents, and he couldn’t help but smile at its audacity.

  The letter had been penned by a Duke Nord Maiv, the Jannatin’s imperially appointed duke of the Dukedom of Maiv. It ordered him, the usurper, to vacate the city for the legitimate ruler, a man who took Lucius’ family name for his own, would be coming to take his place. Any other action would be met with fire and fury.

  Lucius couldn’t hold back his chuckle. So much care had been taken with this letter, and for what? A threat. Maiv had been under threat from the Jannatin Empire since it first came into being. Still smiling, he held the edge of the paper against a candle’s flame and watched as the fire
spread to consume it before tossing it onto the stone floor. How ridiculous.

  The chair screeched as he pushed himself back and stood. He needed to find his daughter and put an end to this wallowing in sadness.

  His gaze drifted to the window again, and the dark silhouette of the temple in the distance. He knew exactly what would cheer her up.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for him to find her, not with the Royal Guards guiding him. Unsurprisingly, his daughter was sitting in the sunlight at the edge of the rose garden, located right at the very center of the castle, under the open sky.

  The garden had been the suggestion of his late wife. She had always complained that Maiv, a faction with roses in its heraldry, had no roses in its faction’s seat of power. In the end Lucius had buckled under her demands and allowed her this space. The square garden was a field of green dotted with thousands of red and pink roses. The pathways through it were of loose white gravel and all lead to the center, where a small circular table with two chairs were placed. It had been his wife’s favorite place to spend time with Lucienne when she was younger.

  Lucius rubbed his chin as he gazed at the place which represented so much joy to his family, but was now occupied by someone who looked so out of place in this field full of life. She wore a black gown whose torso and long sleeves were made of black lacing arranged in elaborate designs. Her usually stylized blonde hair was let loose and it tumbled to her shoulders. She was beautiful—and yet, her frown was all he could see, that distant look in her once bright blue eyes.

  “Leave us,” he commanded, and the Royal Guards disappeared into the background. “Lucienne,” he said and smiled. His daughter did not face him. Instead she stared at the red rose petal she held in her fingers. Lucius leaned in and placed a kiss atop her head before kneeling before her and placing his hand over hers. “My beloved daughter, when will you understand? Those lives lost are not your burden to bear.”

  The princess stayed silent for a few moments before meeting his eyes. “They died because I did not submit at once. I fought him and he killed them.”

  Lucius shook his head sadly. “It is impossible for you to know that. That man had other reasons for destroying Whiteridge. Whether you submitted from the start or not, he wanted to show his power and strength. If Whiteridge was spared his wrath, then it might have been a city of civilians who suffered instead.” He released her hand and took a seat beside her. “Those soldiers served their kingdom and died with honor. Their service will not soon be forgotten.”

  His daughter let go of the rose petal, which fell to join the others littering the path. She lifted her head and turned to face him, her expression flat. It was then that Lucius noticed her swollen and reddened eyes. She had been crying.

  “It is impossible for you to know that, father,” she said, her voice low. “All that matters is what happened. I failed those soldiers. I did not see the threat the Fallen and their leader represented, and my arrogance had them killed.”

  Lucius was about to respond when the sound of footsteps on gravel gave him pause. He noticed his daughter’s eye flick over his shoulder, and he turned to see an old man in heavy furs struggling to keep his balance upon the gravel path.

  “Foreign Minister Hagen,” Lucius said as he stood and gripped the man’s arm and back, helping the ageing minister to take a seat.

  “Thank you, your Majesty,” the minister said before turning to Lucienne. “Princess, forgive me, but I overhead your words. I think it is wonderful that you take the lives of your countrymen and women to heart. It is a valuable lesson to learn so young. Do not forget, however, that you are the Viceroy of this faction, and what you do or say gives an impression of the faction as a whole. Your absence at functions and meetings has been noticed.”

  The princess wrapped her fingers tightly around the skirt of her dress, her knuckles turning white, but then she let go. “I understand,” she said quietly. “Thank you for the advice and counsel.” She stood to leave before adding, “I will be sure to be present at the next function.”

  Lucius watched his daughter take a step away. Though her fiery personality did grate at times, he still loved her, and seeing her usual vigor extinguished pained his heart. Which is when he remembered his plan to cheer her up.

  “I am going to visit Adara’s temple,” he said with a wide smile. “Would you like to join me? You loved going there when you were young. If we are lucky, we might even find Dawn there. You girls were such good friends once.”

  His daughter paused then shifted to give him a sidelong look. “I am not a child, father. You don’t need to bribe me with field trips,” she said, but Lucius could hear something uplifting in her voice. “Dawn was barely out of her egg when were ‘good friends.’”

  “Do you not wish to join me, then?”

  Lucienne looked out across the field of roses, a smile touching her face. “Yes, I think visiting the temple would be a good change of scenery. Plus,” she said, her eyes flicking to Hagen, “the people need to see their Viceroy, correct?”

  Hagen bowed his head, and Lucius laughed. “Go on, get yourself washed up and await me at the courtyard. We will go there together.”

  “Yes, father,” Lucienne said, before walking purposefully off into the castle proper.

  “She will be a great queen, if she gets the chance,” Hagen said before letting out a tired sigh. “The roses of Queen Phea’s garden stand strong, just like she once did. Her death was a great loss to this kingdom.” He then stopped and shook his head. “My apologies, your Majesty, I did not mean to bring up painful memories. Just think of this as an old man’s reflections.”

  Lucius put a reassuring hand on the minister’s shoulder. “That’s quite alright, Hagen. I sometimes find myself wishing she was here to give me her counsel. She was always helpful in the most unexpected ways.”

  “I remember your father asking me about you two.” Hagen chuckled. “Even that stubborn goat couldn’t find fault in your courting, other than how often you kept running off to meet her without your escort.”

  “Stubborn goat?” Lucius said, amused. “Is that how you refer to your former king?”

  “Ah,” Hagen said, with a slow shake of his head. “I am old, what else do I have to let loose with but my tongue?”

  Lucius laughed then sighed as he took the seat his daughter had occupied. A silence fell between the two men as they both looked out at the roses and the petals which shifted in the slightest breeze. “How is your health?” Lucius asked, his eyes tracking a bee as it landed atop one of the pink roses.

  “I am not long for this world, I fear… but perhaps it is for the best,” Hagen replied in a tired voice.

  “Planning to leave us so soon, old man? You know I still need your wise advice.” Lucius heard Hagen shift in his seat, his furs ruffling against the chair as he did.

  “I never married,” the older man said, and the sudden and unexpected change of topic made Lucius turn to face him. Hagen smiled as he smoothed down the fur of his coat with one hand. “Ever since I came into your father’s service, I have always tried to do what is best for this faction, to see it become strong and prosper.” Hagen lowered his head. “I love this country, your Majesty, but I fear the worst for its future.” He turned to meet Lucius’s gaze, his wrinkled face looking more weathered than usual. “What did the letter say?”

  Lucius wasn’t surprised Hagen knew he had opened the letter. The Foreign Minister had the most extensive information network in the kingdom. Briefly, Lucius explained the contents of the letter and how the Wind Speak spell did not contain any message, just a signal of sorts.

  “It is as I feared then,” Hagen said, his hands clasped together atop his lap, his thumb rubbing at his other hand’s inner palm.

  “It is but another threat,” Lucius said with a lopsided grin. “If we took every one of those seriously, our armies would be in a perpetual state of readiness and our hearts would give out with the stress of it.”

 
Hagen closed his eyes, his hands still clasped together. “This is different. The Ejani no longer have a presence in Maiv.”

  “Yes.” Lucius frowned. “Their Ambassador came to bid me farewell before he boarded a ship back home.”

  The Foreign Minister opened his eyes and looked at the sky. “The Ambassador did not board a ship. He took the road back home.”

  Lucius blinked at this unexpected information. “That would prolong his journey tenfold. Why?”

  “I too thought it strange. The Ambassador told me he was being replaced and another would come to Maiv within the month. From what I now know, that was a falsehood. The Ejani have pulled back all their ambassadors and closed their borders. Information has been hard to come by, but there appears to be a revolution of sorts happening within the Satrapy of Fermont, and the surrounding Satraps also. That, along with a spread of some sort of plague in many other areas of Ejan.”

  Lucius pursed his lips. “Fermont? That’s along the eastern coast, correct?”

  Hagen nodded.

  “If Fermont is in revolt,” he continued, “it would explain why the Ambassador did not take a ship. All the ports on the eastern side are within its purview. But how could it have become so bad in such a short length of time? For there to already be no port safe to disembark from?”

  “Details are hard to glean. The Ejani’s full attention has landed squarely within their own territory. Whatever it is they are dealing with, it is serious enough for them to pull back all their resources deployed within the other factions.” Hagen paused. “If we know this, then the Jannatins do too. There are no guarantees as to how long the Ejani will be preoccupied with their domestic troubles.” He raised his head, his eyes meeting Lucius’s. “They will strike hard and fast. That letter was no threat. It was declaration of war.” He then pulled a small ribbon of paper from under his thick coat and offered it to the king.

  Lucius accepted it. It was the type of paper receivers used to write down Wind Speak messages. With their lack of large or medium-sized air crystals, it was no surprise to see the message was short and to the point.