The Empire The Cold Night

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Aura rolled her eyes at her older sister. The offer had some merits. She chafed underneath her mother's close supervision. Aura knew she learned a lot from her clever machinations, but she yearned for more freedom.

From the balcony the chaos was a cacophony. She could see the shapes moving into the light and assaulting the guards.

"Oh dear."

Aura was used to dealing with very human problems. She was trained to kill people, not whatever was encroaching on the Palace.

"Going to take a look."

Aura hopped up onto the ledge and then dropped down onto a roof below. In this endless darkness she could blend into the shadows effortlessly. The tiles were slippery, but she kept her balance and darted forwards for a closer look.
 
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Rhix and the others did not wait for Kade or any of the soldiers to match their pace. Rarely did Emerald Hands get to wholly cut loose, and now was the time for them to show their fervor and prove their worth to their mistress. They were only eight in total, warriors and mages, but each fought with the strength and prowess of ten.

The crocodilian himself was like watching a living whirlwind of devastation. He matched one of the monstrosities pound for pound, blow for blow, ducking and weaving his way around the skewering lashes and pummeling appendage to strike with his cestuses again and again, each roaring strike knocking a chunk of flesh and gore from the creature a foot in diameter.

Blades sung through the air, jets of compressed wind punched through the night, the twang of a bow launched oversized arrows that pierced fungal bodies. The Emerald Hands refused to give up an inch, even as they began to tire. With fury, the Empire's forces continued to push back against the tide.


Medja soon arrived at the back of the mayhem. Emerald energies burned in her eyes as the hovering mage bore witness to the abominations that plagued her city. She descended, her feet gracing the ground before the palace, and she came to kneel with her palms flat against the earth. Her eyes shut, the viridian glow that pierced the darkness shutting itself away.

Vibrations. Each and every creature that tread upon the earth moved in its own distinct way and revealed its presence and nature with its every subtle movement. Medja breathed in and saw through the vibrations what eyes may have mistaken. The patter of human feet. The shambling of monsters. Each struggling body desperately pressing for an advantage.

Instantly, a twelve-foot, stone spike ruptured from the earth beneath one of the marauding malignancies. Its flesh gave little resistance to the earthen spear that tore through its form and burst through the mound that resembled its head. Even in the midst of the fray, there was no mistaking the accuracy of the strike.

Medja exhaled. Rinse, repeat. Another sharp crack sounded out as another spike burst forth, slaughtering another creature. Like this the sorceress would keep her people safe and secure their victory.

And all the while, eyes closed as she listened to the earth, a flying, fungal anathema she could not detect slipped its way closer to her, its spiked tendrils seeking soft flesh to impale.
 
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He'd never really hated an enemy before. He'd thought he had, but... no. Not before this.

It wasn't when he'd first seen them, flailing and striking at the perimeter guard. It wasn't when he attacked them, and they retaliated with such brutal strength even he was easily knocked aside. It wasn't even when they killed his own comrades, his own fellowship.

It was when they turned those men against him.

Seeing the faces of his own friends and men-at-arms, deformed and frozen into an expression of terror and agony nearly broke his resolve. He'd never meant to face anything like this. It tore at him to think of what their final thoughts may have been... but there were luxuries not afforded to one on the battlefield, and one of those things was grief. Despite his conflicts, he raged on in battle.

He even came across another of one such beast, manifesting itself through the form of one of his former comrades. Its body contorted and popped, its mass changing and growing into an ill-gotten shape. As with all of them, the host's head hung loosely to the side, and another "face" took its place. Its arms, one being cast aside to hang loosely in place of another newly grown one, and the other mutated severely into long, spindly tendrils.

Iahmesu moved to intercept this particular creature as it changed, but he himself was waylaid by another one of the monsters. It was only so long, but long enough to allow the monster to complete its change and lash out at who had become the most destructive force on the battlefield: Medja. Iahmesu eliminated his enemy and moved quickly to intercept the attacking tendrils and aid the Empress Regent, who'd just now gained much respect from him having joined them in battle.


Distant from the palace, but not entirely out of sight, a figure hid away in the dark on a high balcony. Watching all that was transpiring at the foot of the palace. Even spying one so bold as the drop down into the shadows, but she'd only caught a flash.

It was obvious then, given their focus outside, that things inside were yet to progress.
 
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There was a great host of individuals not suited for combat on a good day let alone under these circumstances. Nevertheless, they were easy enough to guide through the grand corridors of the palace, up and onward to easily the most defensible chamber: the great throne room, where they would be all the safer. Or so it seemed. Much of the palace was still cast in complete darkness from the earlier loss of their torchlight, and the closer toward the throne room the more apparent it became that this portion of the palace had not yet been tended to, and the more oddly quiet it became.

Once they'd thoroughly immersed themselves in the dark, surrounded by only the light of their held torches, Ashuanar raised his hand to signal they stop. And they did.

Something was amiss beyond the doors of the throne room, this much Ashuanar could tell with no lack of certainty. What was amiss, however, was beyond him. Even still, he did not think it wise to lead this group of non-combatants into a place that could be potentially very dangerous. So ordered them back around into their earlier meeting room. He remained at the throne room with a handful of his Sipahi, poised to investigate.


Isul'Ahl was not surprised with Ashuanar's choice to send them back to the meeting hall, but he was disappointed. The surprise that had been left in the throne room had been intended for everyone, but he and his few lackeys would be a good start.

As for the rest of them... he and about a dozen others among the crowd and even among the guards were ready, and as soon as they had put enough space between them and the Vizier, they began their great work. Knives slid smoothly over unsuspecting flesh. At first, it was silent, but as bodies began to fall, cries began to rise. In order to eliminate all their intended targets, the assassins killed rampantly, slaughtering far more than just those who they'd deemed necessary.

But many of them fled, far from prepared to deal with the likes of crazed lunatics. And as they fled, the chase began. And a beautiful chase it was, as no matter where they chose to run, there was no escape for them.

She had seen to that.

 
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Light on her feet, Aura darted across the tiles of the roof. She kept low, but with the bedlam beyond the palace walls she considered speed above stealth this time.

She needed to warn her mother and get the family and important allies to safety. Her mother could decide if that meant getting deeper into the palace or trying to break through to their own compound across the city.

Aura climbed an almost sheer wall as if it was a jagged rockface. She found handholds and purchase where the torchlight couldn't.

She couldn't appear like this, but in the darkness she risked getting closer to the throne room. Aura would have to find a creative way to signal her mother to avoid her nighttime occupation being revealed.

Two people came out of the shadows in a dead run. Aura stepped aside quickly. She didn't realise what was happening. Not until the second person dragged the first to the ground and raised a knife.

It caught what little light there was. A scream was half formed before the blade descended to silence it.

Aura stood stock still. She felt, rather than saw the next motion. Her hand snapped up as she tilted her head aside, catching a knife out of the air.

She had not gone unnoticed.

"Assassins in the Palace," she gasped. Her mother and the others were in danger.

Aura threw the knife back. The assailant was dressed as a guard, but moved far too fluidly out of the way of the knife as it hissed through the air.
 
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There!

His big chance!

Everything seemed to move in slow motion before Kade's eyes for a moment. The Empress Regent herself, Medja, had come from inside the Palace. And, hot sands, did her magic ever make short and simple work of these monstrosities. Now Kade didn't (and really, couldn't, since the mysteries of the arcane were baffling to him) know the extent of Medja's magic, but, in that slow moment, it seemed an awful lot like one of the flying Things was buzzing its way perilously close to the Empress.

Kade pivoted on his foot, raising up his sword as he swung his other foot forward to rush—

Too slow. Time settled back into its frantic pace as Iahmesu sliced through the tendrils of the flyer. Kade hadn't even taken a step yet.

He'd a moment to consider just how unprepared he was for all of this. By the Six...would he even make it back home in one piece if he took off running? He didn't know. He just didn't know.

What he did know was that Ragash as a whole would be better off with these fiendish Things dead. Hopefully the worst of it was right here at the Palace.

So Kade stayed at the backline for now, limber on his feet, close to the backs of the fighting Palace Guards and Sipahi and Emerald Hands, like a skirmisher in reserve. Maybe his kopesh would be bloody by the end of this, maybe it wouldn't.

But he definitely couldn't help his family if he died here on the Palace steps.
 
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Only a short while after Medja's wrath joined with the defending forces and bolstered them to a considerable measure, the attackers were laid to waste and the danger, seemingly, brought to an end.

Iahmesu drew his blades from the corpse of his final enemy, and after taking an exhausted breath, backed away carefully. He'd been forced to inflict many wounds upon what had been a former comrade before it would finally fall, removing both its limbs and then burying his blades into it again and again. All of them were like this, difficult to kill. And all of the wreaked of rot and decay. And even in death they continued in grotesquery. Though their bodies remained still and dead, after a while there were small, short tendrils that erupted from all over the flesh of their corpses and wriggled about. It was an unsettling sight to say the least, an Iahmesu was content to keep his distance.

He heard as Al'Daim shouted orders to keep away from the corpses, and quickly set them alight. He wondered about the wisdom of this course, thinking perhaps they should at least examine one of them, though he'd be the last one to make such a suggestion. He had a quick look around, and was startled to find that from an initial force of about a dozen their attackers had multiplied to a number of nearly forty. And all this in such a short time.

He cast one final look down at the beast a few meters ahead of him as one of the guardsmen set its corpse alight, and it was quickly engulfed in flame.


First, a noiseless flash of arcane light burst through cracks and cervices and windows of the palace, reaching out in all directions and up into the darkened sky. And then came a great sound, and the whole of the palace shook furiously, and fire and smoke erupted from within, decimating the throne room and several other places.

 
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A sickening squelch sounded as the fetid body of some airborne creature impacted it, and the sorceress quickly realized what had happened. She had been spared a use of her Siphon, or possibly very much worse given the nature of these monstrosities. Medja flicked her head back towards the masked warrior who'd done her such a service and nodded her appreciation, though she was taken aback by the uncanny resemblance to her once-favorite assassin. Even the weapons he used were similar. Perhaps another adept of Settra's monastery.

As fire began to consume the forms of the creatures and pyres began to light the dark, Medja rose to her feet and muttered the simple spell that carried her aloft by her accoutrements. For the time being, at least, things seemed to be under control.

That moment to relax was only that: a moment. A blinding flash. A deafening boom. Both from behind her. Medja wheeled in place, her eyes burning with emerald energy as she grimaced at the sight. The palace, her palace, was under attack.

"This day continues to worsen..." She muttered before willing herself back towards the building. She called out to two of her nearest Hands, intimately aware of their presence via her connection to the earth just moments prior. "Kade, Rhix, to me!"

At this point Medja didn't know what the fuck was going on. An assassination attempt? A coup? She intended to find out, and she would crush the culprits into fine paste when she did.
 
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When the doors of the throne room swung open, in the dark there was nothing to see to cause immediate alarm. But as a couple of his warriors moved forward with torches in hand, the situation quickly became apparent. As they drew near to the throne, a strange silhouette began to take shape there, and as it became illuminated, they were shocked at what they saw. A great, bulbous mass was taking shape. Tethered to the throne and the pillars nearby, it writhed in its place, and only quietly did sounds of grotesquery come from it.

But, as they drew near, it seemed to become agitated. Its movements became more violent, and masses on the fleshy thing began to grow.

Ashuanar was just stepping through the throne room's doors when this began to unfold, and within him he felt a dire threat, as if he knew what was about to happen. But it was just as quickly in his brief moment of shock that his Sipahi also began to realize.

Those closest turned away.

Those nearest to Ashuanar, valiant in their loyalty, threw themselves in front of him, and shoved him back out into the corridor.

A flash of light.

A great sound.

Quiet.​


Rubble was strewn about, the throne room's doors thrown from their great hinges, and decimation was all that remained of the great chamber. And though powerful enough to cause much damage and even expose the interior to the out, the explosion was not enough to hinder the palace's great structure.
​

Timing was everything, and unfortunately, the timing was off. But only so much. Perhaps things would still unfold as planned in the end...


 
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How were there more of the Things now? This was the scary part about magic, the fact that to Kade it was all just one big monolithic unknown. No, make that Unknown with a capital U. By definition it defied all that Kade knew of the natural world. It made the impossible possible, and here now, no matter how many of the Things the Palace Guards killed, they just kept coming, as if they were being born from the dark and spat out from its edges into the meager firelights of the pyres and torches.

Kade flinched. Jerked to turn around and look as something within the Palace went horrifically wrong.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no, that's bad, that is bad, that is really, really bad." That was supposed to be their safe retreat, the place they could hold in case the fight out here turned sour, and now the Palace itself was, uh, less than ideal for that purpose.

Kade, Rhix, to me!

Kade's eyes widened and for a second he froze, still staring up at the Palace where the flash had sparked and the boom had sounded. That was an order. An order from the Empress Regent. Oh hell. Oh shit. It had been his intention to make like the wind and fly over to his home, check in on his family, but...to disobey an order from the Empress herself?

The roguish side of him was fiercely against it, just demanding that he slip away now while he had a sliver of a chance. This was the little roguish voice that had served him well all his days as a pickpocket and petty thief.

And today, he ignored it.

Stiffly at first, then loosening into a more natural run, Kade did exactly as commanded and hurried to Medja's side. Following her lead.

"I'm here, Your Imperial Majesty."

Medja
 
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The intruder backed away from a high kick, Aura having gambled on a quick blow to the head to end this decisively.

The intruder started to draw a curved blade, but Aura slammed a fist down. She jammed the weapon back into its sheath and drove her shoulder forwards.

Aura felt, rather than saw, a low kick at her knee and lost balance. She lashed out, but instead took an elbow to the forehead. Her world span as she was thrown to the ground.

Aura rolled away from a kick, taking it to her forearms rather than the head. She heard that curved long knife being drawn. She managed to get up to one knee, but knew she was in a bad place and disorientated.


"Again!"

Her mother's cold word echoed across the courtyard. It was a walled off space within the Qajan residence, away from prying eyes.

Aura looked up. She was on her knees, both arms up to defend her head. She was bleeded from one lip, bruised all across her arms.

A guard stood before her, bowing down. At her mother's instruction he stood back up and picked up his staff.

"Mother, she's had enough!"

It was Inara, the eldest and almost an adult now, who had the strength to step out of line and protest.

"Do not tell me what to do again," came the curt response.

Inara stepped back out of the arena. Aura ducked as the staff was swung for her head again.


Aura leapt forwards, rather than back. She was running on instinct now. Instinct honed through years of brutal training. She knew how to fight against any sized opponents, when she was exhausted and even when she could not see.

She seized the hilt of the knife when it was half drawn and turned her back into the intruder. Aura threw up her left leg behind her and lurched forwards, throwing the intruder over her shoulder.

Aura was left holding the curved blade. She stamped down without remorse, pinning an arm.

The air hissed in protest as Aura swung the curved blade once. An arc of blood followed in its wake, leaving the intruder lying on their back and clasping at their severed throat.

Before Aura could even catch her breath the Palace shook. She stood bolt upright.

"Mother!" She hissed.
 
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Iahmesu's eyes were torn from the burning creature before him toward the palace, beckoned by the great and thunderous sound that seem to shake the ground beneath his feet. From somewhere within their last bastion a terrible happening had taken place, and he was loathe to know to consequences of what had been done.

Around him there was shouting. The Empress called her trusted Hands to her side. Al'Daim order soldiers to her, and to him, and finally the Abtati general addressed him, saying, "you! Gather your men, secure the streets around the palace!"

Albeit for him to question a superior, knife ear or no.

"You heard the general! Let's move!"


Al'Daim entered into the palace with more than a handful of his Sipahi in tow. They were quick on their feet, and with haste they moved inward toward the throne room. However, it wasn't long after they'd entered in that they heard the screams of the nobles. Al'Daim split them into two, a larger and smaller group. The larger of the groups would rally the nobility and the priests, and ensure them safety, while the smaller group led by Ihtizaz would proceed to the throne room.


Moving through the corridor, Ihtizaz noted several corpses along the way. Each of them had their necks cut from what he could see, and each of them were defenseless against any kind of ruthlessness.

"Careful!" he declared as they started coming near to the throne room. The doors were blown clear off their hinges, and great piles of debris replaced once finely crafted architecture. But aware as the young Abtati was, as they passed by a side corridor he cast his eyes down there, and even in the fleeting light their torches passing by granted, he saw the image of someone standing down that way.

He slid to a halt, and called out to the one called Aura - though in this darkness and her disguise her identity was impossible to know, "you there! Who are you!?"

 
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His eyes shot open. He was kneeling. One hand was planted on the floor, the other was raised and his face buried into his elbow. He pulled himself apart some, and his eyes cracked opened. Darkness. He drew in a long breath. He moved to lift his planted hand, and at first found that he could not. It was like he was pinned, but then he realized that there was something else... he reached down and felt some kind of hardened mass attached to his arm, descending down onto the floor and.. beneath where he knelt. And as he reached and felt with his free hand he realized he'd been encased by some kind of shell, and as he felt the surface of it and realized which arm was affected...

Akrep.

As if cued by the realization, the carapace that had taken shape around him split at the top, and unfurled almost like a flower coming into bloom. As it was made open, in faith he stood, and the mass that had previously encased his arm fell away like weak pottery.

The dust was still settling, and he stepped out from his place of safety and moved into the decimated throne room. Beneath strewn debris and the like he could see what remained of those who'd come with him, and he was grieved. His eyes drifted down to the armband he wore, which if he had not he'd have surely met his end like his subordinates had. Then he looked ahead to where the throne should have been. Now all that remained was an empty space, and behind even the palace's outer wall had given way. He could see out into the lasting night.

And from there, in what remained of what was intended to be the safest place for their nobility, he mused how it could have almost been the end to more than half of them in their entirety.

It was in these moments when Ihtizaz and his men arrived, exclaiming at the sight of him. But there was little time for pleasantry. The Sipahi were quick to tell of their findings along the way, and Ashuanar was quick to understand for all that it was worth in this now very late hour.

"Assassins," he spat, rallying those near, and then leaving from the ruined chamber, "they could not be many! They would not have expected so many survivors!"

He was betting that whatever hell it was they had unleashed on them in the throne room was their best play.

"Ihtizaz, rally those from outside and seal the palace. The rest of us will deal with these pests..."

Ihtizaz, though distracted by something else it seemed, begrudgingly carried out his orders.

 
Some time later...


The palace, though having sustained damage in its most revered place, had been secured. Whatever the monsters that attacked them had been, wherever they had come from, there were no further signs of them after those at the palace's front had been defeated. The assassins were brought to their end, finished by the likes of Ashuanar's Sipahi, and Medja's Hands, but not before a great wound had been inflicted.

Many of the Empire's most influential voices had been silenced, and many of them had been vocal supporters of their now reigning empress, Medja. But there were others too, with far different motivations who had also met an untimely end, enough to make it unclear as to what the aim truly was. And too, being only a mere couple of hours since what seemed like all absolute hell breaking loose upon them, things were likely a little hazy at best.

In light of what had taken place, those present saw only one course: to once again convene.


Bruised from their joined ordeal, Ashuanar stood in the midst of the great hall with the voices of many rising up around him. It was almost surreal for a few moments, listening to the desperation of the Empire as a whole all in one room.

He inhaled a deep breath.

He looked to his fellows of the Divan, the Grand Viziers and finally then to her - Empress of all they held dear.

Then, he stepped forward and raised up his hand. It took a moment, but soon the voices began to fade, and eventually, there was silence. He took further steps now, and took some time to look around the entirety of those present before addressing them. To him this was a show of respect, and for what he could tell it was received as such.

"My friends," he started...


For some time the Red Sun spoke. Never before had the lands of Amol-Kalit heard tell of such a thing as this, to find that not just one but several cities and the lands in between had been cast in a lasting dark. Never before had such fear been justified in them. So the wielder of the Empire's great war machine declared and dedicated it to the uncovering and ending of this dreadful dark, and bringing those who were responsible before this very council, either alive or otherwise. And finally after many hours of talk, the gathering came to a quiet close.

Many were too frightened to leave the palace, and grand as it was it was more than large enough to accommodate those present. All throughout the palace, and all through the streets around it, there was not a corner left untouched by torchlight, or left unattended by at least one set of eyes. Further out into the streets however... there remained only darkness.

Abtatu only knew what was taking place out there...
 
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