The Empire Twin Suns

[Isiell]

"Oh no, I believe that he could not have become emperor without laying claim to godhood," Isiell giggled as she answered Maphesa. "And certainly a good number of his subjects do believe it, from what I've heard. But I'm sure there are many who do not, as well."

She saw Favashi eagerly leaning forward in her seat, and turned her attention back to the arena just in time for Gerra's mace to smash into Andronicus' nose. Even she couldn't help but wince as the Dawn Court's king was laid prone.

Isiell knew better than to panic, though. She could feel the chaos of a decision swirling through Andronicus, but she did not reach out to influence it.

But still she breathed a sigh of relief when Andronicus revealed his true self, and waited to see how he might best the half-fae supposed-god usurper.

"What happened at the last fight for the throne?" Isiell asked Favashi curiously. It had been long before her birth.

 

[Favashi]

Favashi briefly tore her eyes away from the fight to glance in the direction of the fae who was asking her a question. There was a slight irritation in that old gaze that someone was bothering her when the fighting was going on but it softened a little when she realised it was Isiell. If it had been Simmy Sim there might have been a different outcome.

"The last fight lasted three days," she sighed as though telling a love story. "It was blood-thirsty. The old Queen - Naehm - was a psychopath," Favashi laughed in delight at the memory and clapped her hands. "Oh Andronicus came close to death many, many times. It was only her age in the end and the Mind Mists taking hold that ensured he won," she sighed and then glanced back towards the two men.

"I do not think this one will be as fun."

* * *​

Andronicus' lips twisted into a cruel smile as he let go of his blade and ducked under the incoming mace, hoping that the swing would cause him to lose his balance. The sword within Gerra's grasp vanished in wispy swirls of smoke only to reform in the Kings hands as he stood upright once more.

"Advice, you should perhaps follow," he mused and swung his blade to meet the mace in the next calculated swing.

 

[Gerra]

The flame-spitting head of the mace hissed angrily past the fae king's skull and Gerra growled in frustration. The elf-thing was swift. As all such elf-things were. It had been a long time since he had fought an elf or fae. Their insular cultures and abnormally long lifespans meant they had centuries to hone a craft.

Gerra had only his brute strength and searing will.

He kept his footing with the swing, years in a Molthal forge swinging hammers to beat steel, then years after on campaigns swinging maces to beat skulls taught him that much at least.

The Emperor watched his foe's sword turn to shadow, then reform for another swing. Gerra scowled. If he sought to block it with his mace, could Andronicus simply materialize the blade once past his guard and smite him? Doubtless.

Fine then, single combat was seldom a pretty affair, but he had no need to feign a refined air. None of that mattered anymore.

Rather than smite again with the mace, Gerra lashed out with a steel boot in a bone-crunching kick aimed at the fae's nearest kneecap.

Favashi

 

[Maphesa]

Hardly the end, the battle was still in it's beginnings and Andronicus' trickery allowed him to strike from the rear. Or try to; the lesser fae managed to evade the attack. Only the sound of pain and reaction from Gerra was sign that he was cut by the swords tip. A relief that the fight would continue, Maphesa would be a bit miffed if she had come all this way to see a battle ended by a single strike.

“Hah! A prerequisite?” Maphesa couldn't help respond with a giggle of her own, amused at the foolishness witnessed within the lesser races.

“These mortals seem even more obsessed with worship than any I've known. I wonder if the desert sun bakes their poor minds.” Maphessa added, a mocking and mirthful smile still clear on her lips. To be fair, whether the Kaliti were truly more pious than their eastern counterparts or not was tricky to really quantify. But it could not be denied that they had far more ‘gods’ to choose from, and seemed to make no denial of this fact either. Why, they literally referred to this group as The Hundreds. The Hundreds! Imagine having a roster of so many potential deities, and believing in hundreds of them!

Granted, Maphesa never really bothered to learn much about the theology of Amol-Kalit beyond that, nor did she give much care to ensuring she did so accurately. She didn’t care to actually know the mortals here; she just wanted to laugh. The foolishness of their kind was so ever adorable.

Moreso than the challenger before them, anyhow. Not that Maphesa had much actual reason to dislike him, but that didn’t matter. She hardly needed much to dislike another; that Isiell didn’t like him already was more than enough cause for Maphesa to give her fickle ire.

Isiell's next posed a question to Favashi, wondering what occurred at the last contest. It turned out that this was King Andronicus' first defence of the crown, having been challenger at the last one and it sounded like quite the show. Three days of bloodshed. The look of joyous recollection on Favashi's face filled Maphesa with a tinge of envy that she had not been able to witness the spectacle herself.

"I do not think this one will be as fun."

Just her luck to attend a dull contest. Maybe the next one would be as entertaining. Probably not if Andronicus lost, however. Well then, she knew who she had to root for; and he had just made a graceful evasion beneath Gerra's swung mace.

Time would tell if he would dodge the kick, too.

 

[Eske]

"Not of this Court, but another."

"A powerful Court?" Tulio, who was very skilled at smiling, inquired.

And then there was a gruesome squelch and subsequent thud as Andronius' body slumped in front of the throne.

"Ah, but, nowhere interesting until now."

"Is this all?" said the challenger.

Tulio frowned.

"He thinks highly of himself and as such tramples the world in any direction he wishes. If he could collect every crown on the earth, I reckon he would."

Eske offered the elf a wordless smile, one that neither confirmed nor denied his first question, but plainly said in the most diplomatic of ways that he did not need to know the answer.

Her gaze followed his own back to the fight in question, watching dispassionately as the King of Dawn made the first of his domineering decisions for the evening.

"Perhaps we are lucky, then," Eske answered gently, "that those who hold the power to rule the entire world are no longer among us."

Not even one among the fae could lay claim to such authority and power. Though that never stopped them from trying. At least now, over the last several thousand years, there had been relative peace among the various fae Courts. This challenge, if met and won, could spell disaster - though she could not yet speak for whom.

"I wonder if he yet knows the nature of the seat of rule he currently seeks."

 

[Favashi]

Andronicus wasn't prepared for the kick towards his knee but he recovered well. Dodging meant he had to step back and lose the advantage he had of being inside Gerra's guard but a shattered kneecap would have been worse. With the first bout of testing done, the King of Dawn begun to prowl casually around the newcomer in a circle, seemingly looking for weaknesses from every angle as he did so.

"You know there is no power in holding this crown. Not over the fae here, they do not listen to anyone," they'd barely listened to the woman they now revered as a Saint. It was a fact his Queen before him had said but he hadn't believed her. He'd been too young and too blind to see.

 

[Tulio]

Okay, fine, hint taken. But the harder people tried to keep things from Tulio, the more he so wanted them.

"Well, doesn't make much a difference to me anyway, whether there is one ruler in the world or one thousand."

None would hold him down. Or so he often told himself. Though features unstirred, there was a twinkle in Tulio's red eyes as the fight neared its climax.

"Whether he does or not," the elf leaned heavily against the throne, "it'll be fun, watching him scramble."

Said so as if the God-Emperor's victory was assured. Tulio would linger for a while til he got bored, then go off as his next whim possessed him.

 

[Gerra]

"That is because there is no power in crowns, fae."

Gerra raised his hand, touched his shoulder. The gauntlet came away bloody. He scowled, then raised his hand up for the king and all to see.

"Power is in blood."

He heaved up his mace.

"Power is in steel."

Again did he smite at Andronicus, Annuk's Scepter seeming to burn away mist and shadow before it like cobwebs before a torch.

"Your crown is a lie. Your throne mere shadows. "

Now did the giantblood burning in Gerra's veins show itself full true - coals his eyes and his hair like flickering flame, sparks spitting from his lips as he rumbled out words in a fathomless bass.

"Look at you. Centuries to achieve wonders and what have you done?"

The Emperor snorted, lips curling.

"Centuries of sloth."

Favashi

 

[Eske]

"You speak in the language of the wilds and winds," Eske remarked gently, a somber smile passing over memory of many who spoke much the same, "be they untamed by man, beast, and God. Borrowed for but a time, then loosed upon whim and want and the flow of the ley."

"Such adventures they have..."

Tulio