Argrave took his place at the podium in the parliamentary hall. All of the guests looked at him with tired eyes. Even in their exhaustion, his reputation had grown to the point that no one would ignore him, not even Magisters. Ganbaatar came as a guest, representing the elven nations. But more than him, they’d called every parliamentary seat from all across the kingdom. Most had made it, fortunately, feeling grand things were afoot.

“I understand that most of you have come a very long way. Rest assured, then, that this first session will be brief—less than thirty minutes,” Argrave gave them the good news, reinvigorating the tired that they might focus better. “It serves to introduce the key issues that made me call this meeting ahead of our scheduled session.”

Argrave’s gaze wandered the parliamentary seats. All waited for his words expectantly.

“Firstly… southern tribals persist on the border to the Burnt Desert. There is a horde of wyverns, many of whom are spellcasters, roaming the sand dunes and mountains near the Lionsun Castle. Margrave Reinhardt can attest he’s never seen one of such size.” Argrave pointed toward the margrave. Though he lacked an official parliamentary seat, Reinhardt had attended at Argrave’s request. “Though these tribals levied threats, they’ve yet to do anything else. I thought that was because they had something in mind other than combat. On my visit to the site recently, I discovered that to be true.”

Argrave shifted on his feet as people, especially those on the southern side of the kingdom, seemed to grow uneased.

“More than that… we have other threats at a different border. A geographical border.” Argrave turned his head, where Orion stepped forward and handed him the masked helm of the Ebon Cult. He set it on the podium. “This piece of armor comes from a group known as the Ebon Cult. This cult is a religious state beneath the earth, occupying the old dwarven cities. Perhaps you think me mad… but then, behold this man.”

The true dwarf Anestis was escorted into the room, and all stared at him with curiosity or confusion. Artur in particular seemed utterly baffled, not knowing whether he should be indignant or surprised or joyful.

“He is a true dwarf. And because of him, we have some paths into the dwarven cities underground, long thought myth alone.” Argrave clenched his right hand into a fist and then slammed it down on the helmet of purple metal. “But Anestis’ arrival heralds a huge threat. As such… let me tell you of Mozzahr, the Castellan of the Empty, and his aspirations for godhood. Let me tell you of the dwarven metals they hoard, and of the secrets to shamanic magic they guard. This will not be as my father’s reign of aggression. Because Mozzahr… he’s a conqueror. A practiced one. And we must defend, lest we be wiped out.”

#####

Mial, daughter of Mozzahr, stepped into a room with a large congregation. The building these worshippers resided in once belonged to the dwarves—this had been the house for their senate, where they carried out the democratic functions of their government. Now, it had been repurposed into the primary cathedral of the Ebon Cult.

Two others followed behind her as she walked past all the devout kneeled in prayer. She walked to the head of the hall, and then took her place at a raised platform where the dwarven speakers of the past would come forth to stand and speak.

“Loyal worshippers,” Mial’s voice rang out crisp and clear even through her metal mask. The two that had been following her took their place behind her. “Though I loathe to interrupt worship, there are things that you must hear. I will not be long—thirty minutes at the longest. Forgive me, but we are seldom concentrated so densely as when we pray. I thought this place best.”

Despite her apology, the worshippers seemed more than amenable to her request. They clearly heeded her words, masked faces staring firmly forward without wandering in distraction.

first of those on the surface to enter into my father’s sphere. Her

donned a mask of purple metal like all

of you have been wondering why it is we linger at the edge of the land of the two suns. The truth is… though Mozzahr’s

attention at once, their zealous

and the depth of the knowledge he already holds over us. He is the catspaw of a devil incarnate. We can only

#####

devil incarnate?” Georgina asked

equally great tests. The universe itself

“We associated once before. He

mind. Now, the man is a member of the cult.

yes,” Georgina nodded. “But I don’t care about any of that. I can tell you this with certainty: Traugott

#####

closest advisors, save Durran—the man still waited with his wyvern riders, perhaps occupying himself with liberating yet more villages from Vessel tyranny. It did them no good to have him here yet, but his time would come soon enough. There were two new faces among them: Nikoletta of Monticci and Melanie, the mercenary. They had both earned their spots at the private table, Argrave felt—Nikoletta had an unbreakable loyalty

changing employers as he once had. She had valuable

unlike Galamon, who would swear devotion only to Veid, or Orion, who was quite difficult to get a handle on… Argrave was confident he could get Melanie to accept any blessings he wanted to give

seemed to come out of left

between everyone present, green eyes darting from place to place. “Am I

party well,” Argrave said, looking at her plainly.

buried the man in what we

like that in the wrong ear might get you killed, you know,” Argrave answered back without laughing. “Anyway, that

narrowing her eyes. The scars on her face made her look quite fierce. “You praise me,

said with a smile. “I think you will be

damned… thank you, Your Highness, Your Majesty,” she said, removing the wide-brimmed tellerbarret and

wanted to get closer with

clarified, looking at Anneliese as she fixed her hair and put her tellerbarret

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