Underneath the Church of Rheina lay a crypt where the bones of ascenders rested—a shrine for their nation’s heroes. Dual golden spheres circled her, casting sharp light over the gloomy soldiers who had accompanied her. Among them were faces she once revered: Savage, her Firstman, and Talon, the Green Chief.

  Schemel rested her hand on the cold tomb of her great-grandfather. “During Varmel’s time as High Commander, he battled Arden and destroyed the nation completely.”

  From Varmel, she moved to Thorel. No power lingered there. Her grandfather’s body had never been found after the Great Oppression. “My grandfather defended our country from New Arden. He is so feared that swayers and faeries alike will not approach our continent.”

  She passed her father’s grave without pausing. Ashel wasn’t dead—not until she saw his rotting body would she believe it.

  Then came the tombs of those lost in the new century. Men younger than she was—people she had sworn to protect. Alakam and his brother Votress. Firios Deus.

  “Tell me,” she whispered, “did Firios deserve to die?”

  “No, Renna,” said Savage. “We failed you.”

  “And in turn, I failed him.” Her frown deepened. “I hate feeling vulnerable. Calimer had so much leverage…he could’ve asked me to dance and I would’ve. I don’t like being the smallest person in any room. When that happens, I overact—and people die.”

  “From this day forth, I shall no longer be called the High Commander’s Firstman,” said Savage. “I am not worthy of standing by your side.”

  “I know.”

  “This is unacceptable,” Talon snapped. “We did everything we could to keep the situation under control.”

  “You did not try hard enough.”

  “I don’t see you doing anything about it.”

  Schemel’s voice went low. “I’m going to pretend you did not speak to me that way.”

  “You and I stand on equal footing,” said Talon. “Or have you forgotten that I am still a member of the Primus? After everything we’ve done for you, the least you can do is show gratitude.”

  “Did you hear that, Firios?” Schemel tilted her head toward the tomb. “Talon wants gratitude.”

  The golden spheres froze in their orbit. Their glow sharpened. “You get nothing. Not from me.”

  Talon’s jaw twitched. “Are you going to take care of the problem, at least?”

  “I have many problems, Talon. Blackwood is the one I care for least.”

  Peace reigned within the Assembly Hall chambers. Today, the Empire of Yuna had sent special guests. A hundred in all, they crowded the east chamber of the hall, opposite the Assembly members who pressed themselves into the west.

  Each faction wore its ceremonial colours: the Henrikians in their deep green robes, the Yunnish in pale green.

  Green, like their eyes. It sounded like a fable, but every Yunnish official shared the same strange marks: white-blond hair, irises like polished emerald.

  One of them presided over the largest table at the front of the hall. He was the Grand Mason to the Emperor of Yuna—second only to the emperor himself in the Living World. His wealth and power were plain to see. Rings gleamed from each ear, rubies and gems sparkled across his fingers. His eyebrows were razor-trimmed, his lids shadowed, and powdered rouge softened the cheeks. Atop his head sat a feathered hat, its plumes shifting colour with every slight movement, as though the feathers themselves were alive.

  “Sit, Schemel,” a voice whispered from behind. She turned and saw Demettle in a seat close to hers. He gripped his stick between his legs, tension tight in his belly. “The Grand Mason’s patience has limits."

  She sat before Grand Mason Xenerisis and pushed her microphone closer to her mouth. With her lips fixed, she straightened her back and waited for the cross-examination to begin.

  “I came as soon as I heard about the Midder-Lands disaster. Calimer is under scrutiny at the Sensera, just as you are about to experience.” Xenerisis paused. “Henrikia’s fate depends on your responses to my questions.”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  “I will account as truthfully as I can."

  “Lari met with your party in Tardis. We found him shot dead at your meeting site."

  “That was the work of a mercenary named Hannik. He used to work for me, but a disagreement turned him against us.”

  “I would’ve loved to question Hannik myself. Unfortunately, we found him dead in a bathtub, his throat slit.”

  “I do not know who killed him.”

  Xenerisis regarded Schemel in a way no man should look at a woman. "Let's move on to Pariston Llyod. He is a man you know. How does a man bound by Shaphet’s Law use magic?”

  “Pariston did not use magic.”

  “Do not lie to me,” he said. “We have more than enough evidence.”

  “It is true that he and Firios Deus engaged in conflict, where I lost my comrade. But I do not remember any signs of magic.”

  “How do you explain the crafting elements left behind in Tardis? Or the shattered buildings? Or the hundreds of witnesses?”

  “The Midder-Lands is rich in minerals. Every Tardis building is on the verge of crumbling. There was hysteria. Rebels shot at us. There is no way to confirm or deny anything.”

  “You broke the treaty terms and attacked Calimer, wounding his eye.”

  “He stabbed himself in the eye,” she said. “Calimer can attest to that.”

  Xenerisis gave her the same look he had a moment ago. She had gambled right. Calimer had not sold her out, trusting she would not sell out Pariston.

  “Two ascenders battled in the Church of Rheina recently—”

  “Not that it has anything to do with what happened in Tardis, but I told the good people of Henrikia that we are sorry and that it won’t happen again. Our power is meant to protect, not abuse."

  “You need measures,” he said.

  “We do not need Shaphet’s Law.”

  "Without priests, ascenders in this country have no check. Yuna offers to teach your newly ordained priests the way to ensure no ascender harms another innocent in this country.”

  “With all due respect, how exactly is this Yuna's concern?”

  “It sets a bad precedent. Once you have mentally challenged veterans brawling on church grounds, anything can happen. You start thinking like gods and encourage ascenders in other nations to do the same. Yuna does not want your madness to spread.”

  “You don’t want to set us against the common people,” said Schemel. “Morality keeps us in check. One mistake does not define the rest of us. Over the years, people have lived with and trusted us. If you bring back the old magic, they will remember that we are not like them. A leash makes us dangerous.”

  “We will see what the emperor says about that,” he said.

  After a few days, they reconvened in the Assembly Hall. The Grand Mason returned with a response from the Emperor of Yuna based on Schemel’s examination.

  “Emperor Matris urges Sexton and Henrikia to cease the conflict over the Midder-Lands immediately. Neither nation can import goods from Yuna until peace is achieved. Emperor Matris has also ordered navy ships to blockade the Moratte channel. Henrikia is therefore no longer permitted to trade with Nephinhelm or any neighbouring nations.”

  Once the Yunnishmen left, Demettle lifted a proposal. “With immediate effect, let us dismiss Schemel Sorel as High Commander. All in favour, raise your hand.”

  A hundred hands were lifted.

  “Yuna barks once and you cower,” Schemel declared. “Do you want a weak man in my position at a time like this? What do you think will happen once Sexton and Yuna realise I am no longer in power?”

  Twelve hands dropped.

  “Once Calimer and I give up the Midder-Lands, Yuna will swoop in and take it all as if nothing had happened. In the name of peace, they will steal what we have fought for over the past decade.”

  Fifteen more hands dropped.

  “For those who want Jacqolin as High Commander, may I ask—where is he now? Some of you might think Jacqolin is returning from the Grem Islands soon. But what kind of person spends so long there without contacting family? I am not saying he is dead, but if Jacqolin loved this country—if he was as passionate as I am—he would be back, fighting alongside me.”

  Twenty more hands dropped.

  “You are afraid of ascenders now. Fine, we can reform. But Shaphet’s Law is not the answer. I know ways around the spell, and any other ascender could figure it out, given enough time. We are magicians. We get out of situations.”

  “Regis would never have commanded Regilon to burn the priests if they had not threatened him with Shaphet's Law,” spoke a voice from the upper chamber—a woman whose interests aligned with Schemel’s, for now. Mariel. “Shaphet’s Law is a tool to incite violence.”

  “I have a better solution to regulate ascenders in this country,” said Schemel. “Project Humility. As High Commander, I hold the keys to all our astaphite reserves. Project Humility strips me of that power. I will hand the keys to the Primus, without knowing who among them holds them at any given moment. From this day forth, no ascender may wield astaphite without permission from the Primus. Without astaphite, our power as ascenders is limited—limited enough for the HF to take us down in a fair fight.”

  “And would Project Humility give soldiers the authority to execute any ascender who harms a civilian?” one of the councilmen asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Kill any ascender who threatens non-ascender life.”

  Twenty more hands dropped.

  She carried the majority, but she had more to say. “For those of you concerned that I have driven our nation to the ground, I want to remind you that we still have earthen workers. If the West wants to bully us, we will trade with the East. Jamerson can’t provide us with military equipment as Nephinhelm can, but they can provide more labourers. More labourers, more production.”

  “All to feed your pointless war,” said Demettle. “Do not be deceived. Nothing changes once Schemel marches back to the Midder-Lands.”

  “And what would you like me to do?” she asked. “Give up on Calimer? After coming so close? That is not what this nation is about. This is not the end of us, because I have the blood of a winner. I am a true Henrikian, and Henrikians fight to the end. Henrikia!”

  “Henrikia!” the Assembly roared, applauding.