Albium, Main Hall
As the surviving students gained their bearings, one, a tall boy with loose, blonde hair, laughed.
"Look, Caelum, we won!"
The boy turned to his friend, and gasped.
"Caelum? Caelum, what's happening to you?!"
Caelum looked down at his arm, which had turned an ashy gray, before slowing disintegrating. The ashy color spread up the boy's body, and soon Caelum was nothing but dust. Others soon began disintegrating, and though a few managed to throw shields up in time, all but the blond boy, Vargus, and two of the town's surviving Magi were left. One of the Magi, an old man with a bald head and long, grey beard, dusted off his red robe and scoffed.
"Dirty Union trick. Should've known they'd have Mors Libyssae Harenae with them."
The other Magi, a broad chested man with fiery red hair and clad in plate, sighed.
"Thought their 'glorious' Premier had banned that, Proclus."
Proclus stroked his beard and laughed, though it was a bitter thing.
"Aye, so did I, Ceolweald. So did I."
The boy looked confused, and was still gaping at the sight he'd just seen. Proclus motioned for Ceolweald to take him away. Once the boy was gone, Proclus turned to the Etherials and spoke.
"I don't know if you have Mors Libyssae Harenae where you come from, but perhaps you've heard of it by its common name. Sands of Death. Union elites tend to carry a pocketful of the stuff, and if it touches anything living, it turns the poor sod to dust. After a few seconds, the dust will be harmless, but if it touched you before it neutralized, you're a goner."
Proclus coughed, and cast a small spell to dispel the remains of Union soldier and Albium villager alike. He then turned back to the Etherials.
"Let me tell you a story. Once, long ago, during the reign of Cornelium III, the Union committed a massacre at the cities of Newcestow and Guilforbu. Now, the folk of Newcestow and Guilforbu were Elder Islanders, and those from the Elder Isles worship strange gods and commit regular blood sacrifice, but even they did not deserve to be tortured and have their souls used in the Union's profane rituals. Cornelium was not known for his patience, and within days of hearing of the atrocity the entire Empire was roused to action. I remember the day I received the draft notice. I had just graduated from the Imperatoria Academiarum, and was out drinking with a few friends when a courier handed me the letter. The memories of that year of bloodshed still stay with me, but I rember when we caught that damned Soulmancer. Taahir al-Rahaim was his name, and he styled himself 'the Benefactor's Hand.' Who this Benefactor is, I do not know, but I learned a new game from the Elder Islanders with us. They called it Giotán Soinneáin, but the rest of us just called it 'Blastin' Bits.' We used a little magic to blast Taahir's limbs off, and then healed him so he wouldn't die. I think we made it all the way to his liver before he died, and then we fed his remains to the people of Delkopi. In hindsight, that was probably a bad idea."
Proclus coughed once more, and started walking away.
"Anyway, I'd best tell the families. Goodbye, rebus caeli."
Carburg Isle
Emperor Titus smiled upon seeing the dragons, and briefly wished the wyrms of Phaenix were tamable. Though wingless, wyrms were the apex predator of Phaenix, and they bred like rabbits. But he put such thoughts out of his mind as he heard his herald approach. The portly man wore the black and purple colors of House Venatius, and he blew a long, loud sound on his horn.
"All Bow for His Imperial Majesty, Titus Helvius Venatius, First of that Honorable Name, Emperor of Phaenix, Holder of the Mandate, Lord of Fire, Marshal of the North, General Excelsis of the Sixteen Legions, and the Phoenix Chosen. Long May He Reign!"
The legionaries gathered genuflected, and with a wave of Titus' hand were back about their business. Titus turned to the two Kalmarnavians and spoke.
"While His Highness is still at sea, I wish to discuss our strategy before he arrives. Come, follow me to the command post. I would prefer these plans to not be heard by any Union spies that may be lurking about."
Titus mounted a horse that had been prepared for him, a large, black destrier, and prepared to ride with the Kalmarnavians to the command tent, which was positioned at the top of a hill.
Guardhouse, Outside of the Kungshallen
Darick timidly grabbed the box and smiled.
"Well, it better be some chicken. Getting jailed works up the appetite. Plus, it'd be a jolly good laugh too."
Darick hid his fear well. Slowly reaching for the box's opening, he could hear the qadm inside begin to get agitated. With one final breath, Darick looked at Ser Allain and spoke.
"Hope you're not afraid of some little bugs."
With that, Darick tore the box open and flung the qadm at the bars. The qadm began to swarm and bite anything they could get their sharp, poisonous little mandibles on. One bite would paralyze a man. Two would give him seizures. Three would cause his heart to burst. Darick scrambled to the back of the cell, hoping the qadm would just eat the guards and leave him alone. If a man went down, the qadm would swarm him like flies, stripping the flesh from him and leaving nothing but bones within a minute. The qadm, however, were quite fragile, and a good stomp would leave them splattered on the ground.
Oboriesaco, Punorientis Province
The dominus of Oboriesaco was angry. And tired. And hungry. He had been awoken by a frightened villager who said that strange, foreign ships had begun unloading men on the shore, and so it fell to him to gather the century of legionaries who guarded the town up and lead them to the ships. His banner-bearer stepped forward and planted his banner, a red field with a golden sun, and spoke.
"Foreigners, the great Lartem Fundane Valentiniano, Dominus of Oboriesaco, wishes to meet with your commander, so as to put his people to rest about the reasons for your landing."
The legionaries behind Lartem stood at attention, cuirasses gleaming in the light, spiked helms polished to perfection, and rifles at the ready should the foreigners prove hostile. All the information the Phaenixians had on the foreigners was their flag, a bright yellow field on which it seemed to birds looked at a smattering of images.
Shatharhur, Carburg Isle
Legatus Opiter dismissed the legionaries and turned to Aither and Malik. Though he showed no shock at seeing talking bears, he was trying to avoid insulting them. He loved to hunt bears, and this situation made him slightly...uncomfortable.
"Ahem, well, if you are speaking of Prince Argailaic, then you might see him soon. He is leading a fleet and it should be here by the morrow."
When he heard about the seizure of a town, Opiter frowned.
"You could have asked us for permission before taking a settlement, but no matter. Airplanes, you say? That would come in handy. The Union has their copters, which dominate the skies. If we where to have our own aeroplanes, then this war is all but won!"
As he was speaking, a slave entered the building, soaking wet from the rain, whispered in Opiter's ear, and ran off.
"It seems His Imperial Majesty has arrived. If you would like to speak with him, follow me. Otherwise, these will be your quarters."
