Age of Sorrows
For over seven hundred years The Realm has been ruled by the Scarlet Empress. Sitting upon the magnificent Scarlet Throne ringed by sculptures of the Five Elemental Dragons. For Seven and Half Centuries she has reigned with a just yet uncompromising hand. Benefactor to many, tyrant to others, Imperial Mother to even fewer. The Dragon-Blooded of The Realm claimed the world as their own, their empire the successor to the Old Shogunate of the First Age, and have conquered vast swathes of land throughout the world. Holding many kingdoms and cities as vassals, satrapies to the Scarlet Empire, with very few that could challenge them. Below them the human classes thrived and prospered as vast wealth flowed into the Blessed Isle. Cities rebuilt from the chaos of the First Age's closing. Trade expanded and was protected by the sheer might of the Imperial military. Legions led by the Dragon-Blooded marched across the land. While in the Sea and up in the clouds of the Imperial Navy patrolled day and night. Yet, there were those who resisted. Various empires, kingdoms, and city-states resisted the Scarlet Empire and formed their own polities. Yet, none could assail the Empire's heart while the Empress ruled in the Imperial Manse.
At least until now...
Realm Year 770
As the last day of Calibration came a close. The end of the year, and 769 slipped permanently into the annals of history, a lone woman sat in a large well furnished room. The room was lit by several candles and the illuminating radiance of a small glass device encasing a bright golden ethereal flame. It show unnaturally bright to give more than enough light for the young woman as she sat cross legged on the lush, warm, carpet. A desk and cushioned chair was off to the side but she had eschewed that. On her crossed legs was a slim wooden board. On top of it sat a long scroll of white paper and in her left hand a smooth painted brush. She dabbed it in an ink pot and wrote in a flowing, perfectly spaced, accented script. Her characters and letters flowing like a gentle stream from brush stroke to paper. As she wrote line after line along the page. Detailing as one would find should they peer over her shoulder, chronological dates, a diary.
My days in the training yards, my supreme youth, spend drilling with the male counterparts of my House. I learned the sword, spear, bow, javelin, axe, and mace. I learned to ride and to swim in full gear. To sprint and march which the boys always made fun of me for constantly checking my boot straps. The way we would march on long winding trails for hours in the shadow of the Imperial Mountains rearing up into snow capped peaks. The cherry blossoms flowing like lilac rain down from their boughs to fill the valleys in their pink radiance.
She paused and continued writing several more lines. More of a sordid affair these lines were, in start contrast to the ones above, and not nearly so fond in tone. Detailing the intense and competitive physical exercises demanded of everyone in the House. How her father even would walk the training yards with the younger Dynasts of his House conducting their exercises. If one was found wanting he would pause and with fierce swipes of his olive branch baton. Smack their backs, hands, and legs to the point of drawing blood. The brush danced along the page fiercely as she detailed a line of how she had once collapsed on her three hundredth push up at the age of ten. How her father tied her to a post in front of the boys, scolding her for weakness and the shame of it, ripping her plain tunic down to her waist and taking a whip. Lashed her thirty times. Then ten more for crying. Leaving her back bloody and torn for the healers to care for only after the sun went down.
The first time I was taken before the Scarlet Throne and into the presence of the Empress. Her radiance and stern beauty. Her scarlet hair and vermillion lips. The throngs of other Dragon-Blooded, wealthy patricians, bureaucratic officials of high standing, and generals in their ornate armor. Of how her family toured the Imperial City and the vast Gardens. How I missed those days of bless. Especially, when I met him. The brush stopped. She frowned and continued on a new page. Gently placing the old page down to dry completely next to her.
The Heptagram, one of the four Imperial Academies, and there I learned the art of sorcery. Before my time at The Bells... She trailed off as she quickly summarized the long hours of reading arcane texts, chores ranging from emptying chamber pots to shelving books and scrolls, to learning the casting of spells and the summoning of spirits. Dangerous as it was. Remarking grimly the time a summoning went awry in a class room and one of the students got possessed. Seeing their bones crack and break to re-arrange themselves by the design of the spirit raging at being accidentally placed in a corporeal fleshy prison. Of being ushered out of the room while the staff dispelled the spirit and the student's broken form was carted away under a blanket. Then there was The Bells which made the competitive, brutal, training of her House seem like child's play in comparison. Yes, one learned the finer arts of generalship, logistics, and stratagems. But the physical demands were high. Running marathons, carrying heavy weights over many miles, wrestling for hours, and training with sharpened blades.
All of which made the woman she was today. She placed the brush down and stood up abruptly. Gently placing the wooden board and paper on the floor as she delicately walked barefooted to the balcony. Her flowing red robe about her. Gold threads along the trim as she leaned on the smooth lacquered railing. Her room was on the eight floor. She looked down at the wide courtyard of her family's residence in the Imperial City. Her chamber lights were the only one's still on save for those utilized by the House's guards. Their vigilance did not cease and knew she had stepped out of her room despite not making any overt sign of recognizing it. The family compound was walled and had a hectare of gardens with a solarium and fountain spewing crystal clear water. Eight stories of rooms, chambers, galleries, private and also a large central dining hall, complete with an armory while stable boys watched the mounts kept just within the gates. Beyond she could see the spires, pagodas, towers, and sea of dull lights that was the Imperial City. For it never truly slept.
A city of over two million souls. One could not accurately state how many people actually resided in or around the Imperial City. Only that the figure had exceeded two million just after the turn of the century. The canals and waterways were, however, clear since it was night. While off in the harbors dozens of trade ships, sloops, private yachts, and sleek deadly Imperial warships were at anchor. Off to the West the Imperial Manse was in complete shadow. No lights burned in its chambers. Not for the past seven years and the Legion of Silence made sure no one entered it's premises on pain of death. Not even the regent was allowed there in and had to hold court in the Imperial Government complexes adjacent.
She turned around and closed her balcony door on its track smoothly. She, however, did not return to her writing. No, she was finished remembering the past events of her life and climbed into the warm cozy bed set against a wall. Rolling onto her side to have smooth raven black hair fall about her fair flesh and sharp eyes. Covering her angular, beautiful, features. Her hand ran itself over the silk covering of the bed. It was empty besides her and she let out a sigh. Closing her eyes she fell asleep but it was not exactly peaceful. Rather, it drifted to a day she would have preferred to forget.
767 RY
Near Lookshy
The spray of sea foam splashed on the deck as she looked about her at the various armored figures. Behind her she could see the vast array of the Imperial Navy with at least a thousand ships organized in battle groups. Their flags and pennants in the breeze. The sight of two thousand ballistic missiles firing from their decks to arc over the smaller barges she stood in and strike the shore in brilliant displays of fiery fury. Canisters full of firedust and steel balls, glass pellets, and caltrops. Oil covered stones fired by catapults like fiery comets striking the prepared fortifications that dotted the beach as the armies of the Confederation of Rivers was arrayed behind them. She looked up to see the awe of Skyships exchanging fire extreme range with essence cannons and lightning ballistae. Off to the east a small fort was under siege from the air as a pair of Imperial Navy Skyships of battleship size dropped companies of Sky Marines in an aerial assault onto the fortifications. Her face turned to the beaches dead ahead as she gripped her spear. Behind her someone was vomiting as the sea rocked them back and forth.
She ducked as something heavy struck the water not far from their craft. The armies of the Confederation were firing on the transport craft with their own catapults and as the vessels closed with the sand, ballistae. Her father had insisted she not go with the first wave. But she had been adamant that she would do her House proud and lead soldiers of the empire into battle. A stone smashed just to the right of the craft spraying water over the side. Causing the soldiers on the portside to reflexively duck. Someone in the back shouted, "FIVE MINUTES!"
The seconds seemed to go on forever. Thud. The dull thump of the craft striking the beach head and the front ramp coming of fits hinges caused a yell as the soldiers rushed forward. She rushed forward on the slick decking. Twack twack twack the sounds of dozens of arrows and bolts impacting the bodies of the soldiers before her. Mowing down a dozen soldiers as the others clambered over the side to fall into the chest deep surf. She moved over to the side. Sailors helped the armored soldiers by shoving them over into the waters. She swung her leg over, "LOOK OUT!" A cry went as she looked up. Someone pushed her off into the water as a flaming stone crashed into the transport. Punching through it like it was paper. Showering a million wood splinters and other debris everywhere. She hit the water on her back. Her armor weighing her down as she hit the muddy bottom. She slowly rolled over in a panicked haze. Her arm flailing. Something grasped it and hoisted her out of the water. A soldier nodded to her and the company that was in the transport began to move as fast as possible towards the beaches. All around her the cries of battle were commencing as companies and battalions surged onto the beaches. Many made it to shore off their ships, many did not and had to wade through the surf, others were slaughtered in the water or their transports struck further out and had to desperately swim to live. Dozens of missiles flung back and forth every minute.
She reached the sand and fell to her knees in the mud. A boom to her left as an essence canon's shot struck the earth. Blasting several yards of beach into fulgurite and soldiers into messy red chunks. She looked about her in shock at the ghastly sight. Her vision panning to see soldiers running forward to get mowed down by arrows, repeating crossbows, ballistae skewing men like a pig at a fire. It was horrific. Watching a soldier lose legs to ball bearings and in shock try to pull them back towards his torso. See a man in a daze pick up his own arm and look at it like it was foreign to him. See shrapnel decapitate a shouting officer urging his men onwards. Footsteps ran to her, "Get off the beach!" The lieutenant grabbed her by the shoulder only to be struck down by a bolt to the neck. His arterial blood splashing onto her face and neck. She blinked as she touched her face. Rising to her feet she grabbed her spear and trudged along the mushy sand as the tide of Imperial troops surged onwards.
Officers shouting the glory of the Empress and Realm as they waved their swords and led their platoons onwards. It was only then as she looked to the left and right that she could see the grand scale of the operation. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers were streaming forward, landing, making ready to land, or enroute. Yet hundreds had already fallen. She picked up the pace as she caught the banner of her battalion flying high leading the charge up the steep slope to the enemy positions. A fierce bombardment from the Imperial Navy lashed across the enemy positions just over the lip of the slope. She started to ascend the slope. She didn't even see the shot. As a beam of essence slammed once more mere yards from her. Picking her up off her feat and hurling her several feet through the air to crash back into the dirt. She hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Gasping, the air in her lungs gone, she craned her neck around and cleared her eyes of sand with her bloody gauntlets. The forward Imperial sections were making contact with the enemy in brutal close quarters combat.
Her father's words echoed through her head. Remember your training and you will survive. She came to a crouch and gritted her teeth. Grasping her spear once more she thundered forward. Picking up a fallen standard she held it high. The Imperial soldiers shouting cheers and forming up alongside her as they redoubled her efforts to ascend the slope amid the torrent of missiles raining down on them. Rolling over the lip of the slope they came face to face with the enemy. The soldiers of the Confederation were a mix of the disciplined forces of Lookshy which shared a martial Shogunate heritage with the Realm, and the various levies of the other confederate members. The Imperials struck the Confederate battle lines with a loud clap of steel and bodies. She thrusted and wove with her weapon. Training taking over as she shoved her spear through the neck of a man younger than she was in the colors of the city of Nexus. Her spear batted away by a Lookshyan soldier and she expertly spun, drawing her sword, and followed through with a deft swipe that opened up the man's torso from groin to gullet. Pink ropes of innards fell out onto the ground as he grasped them. She paid no attention to the soldier's dying screams for his mother. She carried on as the Imperials began to slowly chip away at the Confederate forces. Imperial reinforcements streaming in by the minute and making their way up to join the carnage.
A bolt of flame and she deftly spun her sword and channeled her own essence. Diffusing the flame and with a wide swipe of her palm let out a torrent of flames that engulfed a squad of enemy soldiers. The battle went on for another four hours back and forth...
It was a great victory, so the Imperial Government said, and she felt it weeks later parading through the Imperial City. Her battalion in a neat column with countless others interspersed by Immaculate Monks shouting the glories of the Dragon-Blooded and Scarlet Empire. The Lord and Ladies of the Great Houses ahead of their own private armies and legions. The Imperial Navy parading around the harbor and waterways while the Skyship crews stood at salute on the railing of their ships as they flew extremely low, just above the rooftops, along the main avenues of the Imperial City. Of seeing the mighty Warstriders that had taken part later in the battle marching in lock step with the Imperial soldiers.
Yet, the dream always ended the same. Of her standing after the parade reading a scroll that a man she had meant some years before having been killed in action during the battle else ware. Of her tears and that was why he had not come to her after the horrors of that day or the ones following. Of ending with her standing on that beach seeing the faces and strewn corpses of countless warriors that would never come home. Sons, fathers, brothers, and husbands.
The Morning of the 1st Day of the Year, 770 RY, Present
She woke up sweaty as she gasped for air. Heaving and sitting up abruptly as someone was next to her. It was one of her handmaidens, Geira, the blonde haired woman was younger than her by only a year. "My Lady you kept shouting throughout the night. Was it the dream again?"
"Yes. I-I'm fine." replied Zara Azeirya Vai quickly.
"I'll get you your breakfest and morning tea." replied Geira as she left the room. Leaving her to her thoughts for a moment. She would learn the status of House Vai members today. After all it was merely six months after the horrific murders of her father and mother in the Imperial Gardens. She had put the call out for all House Vai members that could to return to the Imperial City. Storm clouds were brewing and only a fool in the Imperial Court could not see it.