In the southern sea of sand, the capital of the Aserai Kingdom, Sanala, stood like a piece of amber embedded in the earth—majestic and serene. Yet today, a low storm brewed in the grand hall of the palace.
Sultan Unqid sat upon his throne, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's as he fixed it upon the messenger kneeling before him on one knee. In his hand was a sealed missive from the Southern Empire, its wax not yet fully dry, as if it had been delivered in haste.
*"Empress Rhagaea of the Southern Empire has been deposed by the Senate. The court now lies entirely in Zenos' grasp. Rhagaea has been placed under house arrest, and civil strife is imminent within the Empire..."*
A deathly silence filled the hall, broken only by the messenger's heavy breathing. A faint smile crept onto Unqid's face—dangerous and cold, like a venomous serpent lurking in the desert.
"A heaven-sent opportunity," the Sultan murmured, his voice slow and deliberate. "The Southern Empire believed itself unshakable, yet now it crumbles from within. Rhagaea's downfall means our chance has come."
He lifted his head and turned to Hadir, standing at the side of the hall—his most trusted advisor and the mastermind behind the Aserai's intelligence network.
"Has the Southern Empire's border defense weakened?" Unqid asked.
Hadir bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, most of the border garrisons remain loyal to Rhagaea. With the current political upheaval, they will surely be preoccupied. I recommend we dispatch scouts and undercover agents immediately to infiltrate the Southern Empire, monitor border movements, and even stoke the flames of their internal strife."
Unqid gave a slow nod, a glint of ambition flashing in his eyes. "I seek not just their chaos, but also those prosperous border castles. Send out our finest scouts and spies at once—infiltrate every corner of the Southern Empire, especially the frontier towns."
"As you command, Your Majesty!"
Unqid's gaze grew distant, as if he could already see the Southern Empire collapsing into civil war while Aserai cavalry swept across their lands like a desert storm. He rose from his throne and looked out the window at the endless sands beyond, murmuring to himself, "The Empire's twilight has come… and Aserai's dawn approaches."
---
Several days later, atop the walls of a fortress on the southeastern border of the Southern Empire, I stood overlooking the bustling marketplace below. The pale winter sun filtered through the clouds, casting a feeble warmth over the land, yet the air carried an unshakable heaviness.
Nogand stood beside me, his brow furrowed. "Gathel, have you noticed? There are more unfamiliar faces in the market today."
I gave a slight nod, scanning the crowd. The strangers wore the garb of merchants and travelers, but their movements betrayed them—some lingered at corners, their eyes repeatedly scanning the gates; others gathered in taverns, whispering among themselves while casting assessing glances toward the fortress.
"Aserai," I muttered coldly.
Nogand stiffened. "Aserai? But why would they be here?"
"Has something happened in the Imperial City?"
My thoughts raced. The Southern Empire's borders were at their most vulnerable now, and the presence of these scouts could only herald a greater storm.
Just then, an Imperial messenger arrived in his usual hurried manner. Dismounting, he hastily handed me a letter bearing the Southern Empire's seal. "General Gathel, by order of Empress Rhagaea, you are summoned to the Imperial City at once to receive the grant of a new fiefdom."
I unfolded the letter. The words were formal, yet one critical detail was missing—Empress Rhagaea's personal signature.
*"Rhagaea always signs these herself. Why is this one different?"* Suspicion flared within me.
The messenger shifted uneasily under my cold stare. "Her Majesty is occupied with state affairs… The Senate drafted this in her stead."
"Drafted?" I scoffed, folding the letter. "A drafted summons dares to call me to the Imperial City? What a farce."
Nogand seized the messenger by the collar, snarling, "Speak! Who sent you?"
The messenger paled, stammering, "I—I was only ordered to deliver the letter! I know nothing else!"
I waved for Nogand to release him, my gaze turning toward the horizon. "It seems the Imperial City is no longer at peace."
Nogand hesitated. "Gathel… could this be a trap?"
"Trap or not, I must go," I said quietly. "If rebels have seized the Imperial City, then the Empress is in danger. And I will not stand idle."
I turned to Nogand, resolve hardening in my eyes. "Mobilize the men. We ride at once—fully armed, with not a single weapon or steed left unprepared."
---
That night, I stood atop the battlements, silently watching the distant darkness. The marketplace outside had long fallen silent, yet I knew the Aserai scouts hidden in the shadows were observing our every move.
*"Something has happened in the Imperial City,"* I thought coldly. *"Otherwise, they wouldn't have made their move at the same time."*
Nogand approached, his voice grim. "Gathel, how do we proceed? If this is truly a trap, the Imperial City will be crawling with ambushers."
"Even if it's hell itself, I will walk into it," I said with a low exhale, my expression steely. "We've only just begun to secure our future. Valda and Valk (younger siblings) have only just found stability—I won't let them be uprooted again."
The night wind swept across the walls, making the banners snap like whispers of the coming storm. And as I stood there, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, I swore silently: *No matter the enemy, no matter the scheme, I will cut through their darkness with this blade.*
---
At dawn the next day, the horns sounded. Clad in armor, I mounted my warhorse, my soldiers—fully armed and resolute—falling in behind me. My younger brother gripped my hand, his eyes filled with reluctance.
"Brother… you must come back."
"I will," I said, ruffling his hair before turning my gaze toward the distant Imperial City.
I knew this journey was no mere ceremony of appointment.
It was a battle for survival, veiled in treachery.
"Move out!" I commanded.
The thunder of hooves shattered the morning's calm as our banners unfurled in the wind.