EPISODE 173: RE-ARRANGING THE BOARD 3
— GREAT EDRYAN, YEAR 7291. SEASON: COLOR FADING.
HEROES…HEROES…HEROES…HEROESSSS.
I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM.
REVENGE, I MUST HAVE IT. REVENGE, I MUST DESIRE IT.
HEROES…HEROES…HEROES…HEROESSSS.
— Excerpt from ???
Icy-green eyes, sharp like a drawn blade, and ones that held straight and true confidence, traversed the Hall of Heroes calmly but efficiently—their path leading them to the center stage. Everything about the figure appeared sharp to the audience—like the slightest graze might cut them. Large chandeliers filled with multicolored mage lights hung from above. Diamonds, pearls, and rare gems that touch all colors of a rainbow were scattered through the attire of the nobility present. Tens of thousands filled the Hall of Heroes, each with the sole purpose of voting for a figure to ensure their future. The strong presence of Madris’s Chosen was felt by all present—a constant reminder that their time was up. There could be no more delays in choosing a [Prime Overseer].
Tendra Lorde stood next to Lady Adel and Kabal Dioni. They’d gathered their resources and contacts within the last week to have many nobles travel to the capital. Those beneath them or within their general sphere of influence were present to strengthen their choice—the induction of the Rail System in Edryan lands helped many traverse the country much quicker. The remnants of Kabal’s conversation at the end of the vote that instituted the CBCM remained a strong barrier between the two.
“You are scared,” a cool but calm voice stated.
Ariena Drumian’s gaze remained sharp as she surveyed the surrounding nobility in disgust. Livia Abara’s eyes widen at the opening words of her final opponent. In comparison, Archbishop Femi’s face relaxed with a pleasant smile.
Ariena took a long audible sniff of the air, its sound projected into the ears of all present. “Fear of the unknown, fear of change, fear of missing out—I can smell it all within you. You are scared. ”
Her icy-green eyes pierced through the nobles, an action that caused many to step back as if dodging the sweep of a blade. “Look at you all…,” she said, voice clear and sharp. “ Nobles of Edryan. Nobles of Great Edryan, who believe themselves followers of the Goddess. For how long have you lazed under the light of our Goddess—scared relics of a previous age, long since forgotten in the river of history and time.”
Her opening was like glass shattering across the floor, its sound drawing the attention of all present and halting any idle chatter.
Ariena Drumian stepped forward, and those directly before stepped back, a sharp blade pressed against their necks. “Where are my magi who proclaim themselves as warriors of our Goddess? Where are the descendants of our honored ancestors who were renowned warriors—not noble scum who are afraid to confront their fears with a smile on their face and blade in their hands?”
Ariena's presence dominated the Hall of Heroes as she continued, her voice unwavering. "You have grown fat on the comforts of titles, wealth, and privilege—claiming to serve Goddess Madris, while in truth, you serve only yourselves. Where is your courage? Where is the fire that once burned in the hearts of those who stood before you—your ancestors, who built this kingdom with blood and sacrifice?"
She stepped in another direction, and a reaction the same as the last was shown to Ariena’s disgust. Her words held a similar flavor to that of Madris’s Chosen from earlier, but this lacked any regard for their feelings. Instead, Ariena seemed to be giving those presents a tongue-lashing. The air in the Hall of Heroes declined, frost on the breath of many present.
“It was the monarchy that gave you your titles—whether directly or indirectly,” Ariena spat, arms calmly folded behind her. Ariena was tall, as were most magi of the Drumian bloodline. She wore a white dress that left not a hint of skin revealed—only the white of her palms and the beige of her face were open to the air.
“It was the monarchy that saved Edryan from being consumed by the Sin of Greed when none of you could muster the strength or keep yourselves from infighting for small benefits.”
Ariena harrumphed, her speech showed no signs of veering toward the position of the [Prime Overseer]. “It was the monarchy that did all of this… under the guidance of our Goddess. What madness have you believed that Madris’s Chosen would steer us wrong? What madness has you to delay his grand plans for change and unification? What madness tells you to stand as an obstacle as he paves a path of greatness for magi to walk,” her cold voice questioned. Again, she took another step in a different direction. The reaction was as expected.
Ariena paused, letting the weight of her words settle, her icy-green eyes sweeping across the hall once more. Minister Livia Abara was appalled, but she kept her feelings hidden. It was clear that Ariena Drumian was sabotaging the position that represented the royal faction and, by extension, the monarchy’s choice for the Prime Overseer]. The mature woman only held one question…
Why?
Her gaze traveled to the nobility present, and her eyes widened in realization and understanding. She almost reached up and bit onto her thumb’s nail, a habit of hers when under deep thought.
‘Ariena is purposely sabotaging the royal faction position to prevent the nobility from voting for her—no matter what, we are all used to following the will of the monarchy and Queen. They,’ she thought, glancing upward at Madris’s Chosen and his mother. ‘Do not want the position of [Prime Overseer]—they are truly letting go of the power to dictate this country's population…’
Her eyes gazed across the hall at her only true competition—whose gaze also met hers as they both came to the sudden realization.
One of them would be the [Prime Overseer] and establish the opening of a new age in Edryan history.
“Impossible,” Tendra hissed. On the other side of Lady Adel stood Kabal with a strong, confident smile.
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“I expected something like this,” Kabal stated. “Now, it confirms what I’ve begun to believe.”
Mariah Adel turned to the younger woman; speech was unnecessary, as her face voiced the question she and Tendra now held. Kabal kept quiet, rearranging her thoughts and upcoming words.
“Our… Chosen… where do you see him in five, ten, twenty years of time,” her blue eyes gazed at Ariena, who continued to berate the noble magi present.
“ You are scared, ” Ariena repeated for the third time. “It is only your right as human—as mortal, to hold this fear. It is in our nature to fear the unknown, untested, and things outside our control.” She stepped again, and again, the crowd before her stepped back.
“We have been so caught up with the present and the choice His Highness Lawruthian has presented before us that we have neglected to contemplate how Edryan will look in a few years,” Kabal stated, her gaze on Ariena as they both spoke. “The Chosen of Madris must conquer the realm—I ask you… who will oversee Edryan as the armies of the magi marge ever northward?”
Her question left the other two core members of the Old Power silently pondering. Who would oversee Edryan as the armies of the magi marched northward?
“Of course, an Edr…,” Lady Adel began before cutting her voice off.
“Look at you, leaders of Edryan—nobles who believe themselves superior to other magi. Look at how you cower from me. Powerful families that were once regarded as protectors of the weak—protectors of the [Common] magi, wholly unprepared to complete the mission of our Goddess.”
“There are only two Edryanis left,” Kabal responded to Lady Adel’s silence. Tendra gazed up at the final two Edryanis, and a sudden realization dawned upon him as Kabal continued.
“Only two Edryanis are left, and one has achieved demigodhood; the other shall lead us in a war to conquer this world. Who will be left to lead Edryan… who will be left at the helm of Great Edryan?”
“Our world is changing—not this grand continent we call Elrunian, but our very nation in which all the world’s magi-humans reside. Few of you truly grasp it, but the Path of Apotheosis will open in just ten short years. New Gods will ascend—some may be magi, others may not. Know that all above a certain level will be forced to travel to Mt. Redcoomshi, regardless of their will. This is not the first time the Path of Apotheosis has opened, and our records show those above level two hundred twenty will be forced to leave their homes regardless of their class.”
This time, the reaction of the nobles of Edryan was different as murmurs spread through the crowd. Ariena laughed at the reaction, her hands still folded behind her back. Sharp heels clicked as Ariena took another step forward, but this time no one moved back.
“How do you know this,” a brave voice questioned. Ariena gazed at the older magi, whose belly had seen one too many drinks during his prime. Now, as the older gentleman stood amongst the many, Ariena felt a twang of pity. His leveling had long since halted, and now he lived on the remaining vitality until he, too, would join the Promised Land—it was unfortunate his death would not be easy in the comfort of his bed. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her eyes were on the monarchy above—a silent question within them.
Are you certain?
The Queen of Edryan, newly proclaimed Demigoddess of Love, held a silent but warm expression on her face. She glanced one last time at her son before nodding to Ariena. This was his plan, and with her departure to the Path of Apotheosis, Queen Titiana began to take a step back from leadership.
“We… have documents that contain information about the previous two [Chosen of Madris].”
For the briefest of moments, there was nothing but silence in the room. The massive white-gold spiral columns, adorned with carvings of previous [Heroes]—previous stories, stood tall and gleaming in the dim light. Multicolored koi glided through the enchanted streams entwined with these columns, their graceful movements the only motion in an otherwise frozen hall. The nobles, stunned by the weight of Ariena’s words, remained motionless, their minds blank from her revelation.
“Blasp-,” a strangled voice began, cut off before any could identify the speaker.
Archbishop Femi’s mouth was quickly covered by Inquisitor Amara, the shorter woman reaching high to do so. The Archbishop looked down, his anger barely kept from lashing out at everything around him. Inquisitor Amara shook her head; her maroon-colored irises gave out a warning.
“We know with certainty, during the rise of the second [Chosen of Madris] — Carno Edryani—when the Path of Apotheosis opened, those past that level were teleported to compete and ascend into the Astral Above—regardless of their class rarity, attributes, age, and whatnot, they will find themselves on the Path—never to return.”
Ariena Drumian stepped forward once more, her presence cutting through the air like a drawn sword. She served not only as a minister to the court and a powerful matriarch of the Drumian house, but now, she stood as the sharpened edge of a blade—meant to slice away the stagnation of the old ways and clear the eyes of her fellow nobles.
She chuckled, icy-green eyes still cold as she watched the nobles before her. Now, they understood more of the decision to move along with the Class-Based Constitutional Monarchy. Now, they understood it was less for them and more for their descendants. Ariena smiled, her teeth seemingly sharp, shark-like, as she spoke.
“You should be scared—for you have little time to prepare yourself for a harsh future and a chance to ascend to the Promised Land.”
Her speech finished—her final words cryptic and hallowing, Ariena Drumian simply turned and left. Her duty to the crown and the royal faction was over. The only sound heard through the hall was the fading click of her heels on the marble floor.
A second and first [Chosen of Madris]. Then…, the one above them…
Was the third.
“A trinity,” Femi Zubair whispered.
A trinity represented many things in the continent of Elrunian. And, to the magi, it represented many more things. The past, the present, the future— Knowledge, Power, and Wisdom —birth, growth, and decline. So many things… action, reaction, and consequences—the Astral Above, the Mortal Realm, and Underneath Below. War… Wealth… and Wisdom—Her Three Faces.
It represents the beginning, middle, and ending of a story. And, to the magi-humans of Edryan. It represented a final chance.
As the silence stretched across the Hall of Heroes, a palpable weight settled over the nobility. The multicolored (Mage Lights) cast eerie reflections on their jeweled outfits, flickering like dying embers in an air heavy with uncertainty. They stood paralyzed—lost between the sharp finality of Ariena Drumian's words and the dawning realization that the future she spoke of was already upon them. Her words were meant to spark a fire in some, reignite it in others—or douse the raging ambition in plenty.
They had once ruled with certainty, their futures as assured as their titles. Now, all that remained was fear—a creeping, gnawing fear that perhaps, for the first time, the path ahead lay beyond their control.
The steps of change had already begun, and now, whether they liked it or not, they were bound to follow. Each heartbeat echoed the ticking clock of history. Much now understood the gallop for change Madris’s Chosen seemed to have. They understood it for a future that was deemed uncertain for too many of them. They understood now why their titles were being taken, and a new order was settling over Edryan.
“How far ahead is he looking…,” Lady Adel suddenly asked. Her gaze was on Madris’s Chosen above.
His gaze was on them—the nobles of Edryan.
He would watch. The [Chosen of Madris] would wait—for he had set the stage. But only time would reveal whether Edryan’s nobles would adapt or fall, as many others had before them. Only the ones who met the criteria held little choice in the matter.
Their futures were no longer guaranteed.
A Trinity at its height… represented a finality .
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