In the depths of the Emperor's Tomb is a staircase so large it could accommodate a hundred soldiers in ranks. It is usually guarded by four Exemplars but not at this time.

There are thirty of them are lined against the walls, their backs are straight as they wait in full plate armor which is covered by a white tabard with an embroidered golden lion head.

There is another golden lion head engraved in the steel shields they hold at their side and one more on their swords' pommel. With these three traditional symbols, the one they are awaiting is unmistakable.

At the bottom are two humongous double doors made of obsidian stone, carved with hundreds of runes glowing golden from the energy coursing through them. These protect the Emperor's Vault from intrusion.

Two loyal flow-smiths with prestigious positions at the University are there, serving as concierges for their Emperor while he rests. A tall woman of fifty years in a black suit with gray hair stands before these doors.

Her expression is deathly serious, she has few wrinkles and none around the corners of her mouth. Her eyes are dark brown and gazing down on the folded robe she holds in her arms for her Emperor.

It is made of several thick layers of marble-white velvet cloth with intricate golden embroidery depicting a full golden lion roaring proudly over six crowns themselves laid over six crests.

Every time the ruler of one of the Kingdoms dies and another house takes over, a different robe is rewoven while the last is hung in a repository for posterity.

The doors crack open, causing her to deeply bow down. Each of the Exemplars raises their steel shields and draw their swords at once, holding the shining blades vertically with the lion head pommel facing outward.

The obsidian doors make not a single sound as they open to reveal a long hallway which plunges deeper into the earth. A hundred meters in is a man slowly making his way out, dressed in a simple white robe.

The eyelids of the woman dressed in black tighten but that is her only reaction as she hears the cadence of her Emperor's unhurried steps. He is of average size and his build isn't very remarkable.

His traits put him in his late forties, his expression is relaxed, his hairs are black as night and his irises have a spring-like greenish hue fit for the season. He who reigns over two-thirds of humanity gazes upon those there to welcome him and smiles.

“Shayle, Marcus, Hiune, Exemplars, I hope our Empire has been well in my absence.” He greets.

The two flow-smiths, Marcus and Hiune, made wide grins and nod while the Exemplars do not react in any way. Shayle, on the other hand, straightens up and throws the mythical immortal a glare.

“You'll not trick me this time, Emperor, one of my agents has seen Aisha sneak out of the Tomb.” She throws out.

He who rules over six Kingdoms united under one Empire and commands the most powerful organization in the world, the Templar Order, freezes with an awkward smile.

“They're my agents too, and I was merely keeping myself up to date during my slumber.” He who has been Chosen by the Lake protests.

“Because you took action by yourself instead of commanding the Grand-Master to send the flow.” Shayle utters with a somber expression.

“It would have wasted a lot more energy to do this, so much so Izla Meria would not have received half as much. You know the intent of all the energy making up the Due is pledged to me.” Rasaec explains for the hundredth time.

“Considering how little it mattered, it would have been best not to do anything. But, since you took action, you should have slumbered for good instead of keeping half-awake my Emperor.” She throws, letting her months of frustration right out.

“Hm.” He waves his hand to dismiss the complaint, picking up on the fact the leader of the Shades is merely venting. “I must meet this Elizabeth Vil, she ought to have a ravishing sense of humor.”

“A traitor who was altered in some way by the Rykz if half the stories I have heard are to be believed, perhaps even one of their creations. Did Aisha give you a complete report?” Shayle asks so as not to pry if Elizabeth Vil's personal information is so sensitive as to be kept between her Emperor and the Spy.

“No? If she kept it to herself then she must have good reasons, I trust her to manage her sources.” Rasaec responds unconcernedly.

“You mean to say that you awoke to hear a report that wasn't immediately relevant, especially with the number of holes in it, and did not even question her, my Emperor?” Shayle asks through grit teeth, emphasizing the title in a vain attempt to prick the man's pride.

“Briefly awoke.” The man corrects, failing to address the main criticism. “And leave her alone, her achievements have been a great boon for the Empire.”

“I swear I'm training the next one you bring back from going out for drinks myself.” Shayle grumbles, causing one of the flow-smiths to grimace in pity for that unfortunate victim of the Shade's harsh boss.

Emperor Rasaec makes a non-committal smile and pats her shoulder as he attempts to pass by but she blocks his way by extending her arm out and presenting the white robe with golden embroidery to him.

“Do you have any idea how hot and heavy that thing is?” He asks rhetorically in the hopes of inducing some pity in the ruthless woman.

“It is traditional, my Emperor.” She insists without a shred of emotion.

“... ver should've agreed to this for the crowning.” He grumbles as he picks the robe and throws it over his shoulders without allowing Shayle to help.

The marble-white robe unfolds to fall on his thighs, giving Rasaec a grander disposition. He starts climbing upstairs at a leisurely pace with Shayle following a step behind and to his left.

The thirty Exemplars turn as one to escort their Emperor. The flow-smiths remain behind to seal the obsidian double-door, interacting only with the runes buried inside the material rather than those at the surface.

While they have permission to be where they stand, they do not have the authorization to link to the runic constructs on the outside, doing so would result in their immediate demise.

“I have noticed you've allowed entrance in my Vault to a person of dubious moral fiber, Shayle.” Rasaec speaks up once Marcus and Hiune are out of hearing range. “The costs of your project have long crossed the line which I considered tolerable whence I granted you permission.” He adds with a flat tone.

“My Emperor, learning of the Rykz' capacity to sneak back into their ancestral lands with an army is of strategic value.” Shayle explains.

“An army?” The Emperor questions with a frown. “From reports, it is clear they grew these drones locally on Izla Meria. At most, the leadership of a Hive crossed and it required the Lisilese to allow their passage. That is a risk they can seldom take, so much so I doubt they will attempt to repeat this feat in the coming centuries.”

“But...” She begins.

“But nothing, this information may be worth the death of Shades, but not that of thousands of our civilians.” Rasaec coldly cuts her off. “This is about the costs of your project and how few results it has so far produced.”

“Director Suxen's advances in creating constructs and her ability in improving them will make up for the incident, her knowledge will allow us to perfect the Vault's primary function.” Shayle argues.

“Once again, this is in no way worth the damage your project has inflicted upon Caeviel. The Vault functions sufficiently for my needs.” The Emperor denies her argument.

Shayle scowls in utter disagreement but holds her tongue because she has failed to convince him otherwise in dozens of arguments on the matter since she rose to her position.

“The Rykz are now agitated beyond measure, to the point where they have abandoned swathes of lands I wished to retrieve with this current war to inflict tactical casualties on my Phalanxes.” Rasaec utters with a touch of anger as this piece of seemingly good news is the worst he has received during his slumber. “What am I to do if this cycle of retreat and ambush repeats itself? Am I to bleed the Empire to take land back I cannot repopulate with those who fought to reconquer it because they have perished at the task?”

“I am no Marshal, my Emperor.” Shayle responds with a calm voice that further flames Rasaec's fury.

The Emperor, too experienced to make the mistake of speaking in anger, chooses to hold his tongue about the specific fate of the Twelfth and Marshal Ciervo he particularly appreciated for his honed instincts.

Rasaec climbs the large stairs in silence without chatting with his Exemplars as he has the habit to after waking from a long slumber, letting the loud clattering of their armors fill his ears and distract him by reminding him of days he spent conquering lands on the battlefield.

When he catches sight of the top of the stairs, and the servants waiting there, he stops. The thirty temple guards stop as a single entity, stomping down on the stone steps with their spiked greaves.

Shayle hurriedly pulls back her foot to avoid standing on the same level as her Emperor, not because he would say anything but she finds it unsuitable for her to stand taller than her Emperor.

“How has the situation developed in Caeviel?” He questions.

“...” Shayle takes a moment to organize her thoughts and the order in which she'll deliver all the information she holds solely in her brain. “It is complicated. A form of democracy is spreading on Izla Meria, originating from the Council which took power under Rykz occupation but in truth driven by Lady Leomi Lance, now honorary Duchess, who is also operating under Elizabeth Vil's philosophy of self-determination.”

“Intriguing.” Rasaec comments. “Are they loyal?”

“It appears so, far more than Caeviel's Nobility by all appearances.” Shayle responds with a slight frown because she would rather state the contrary. “As I've reported previously, Leomi Lance has sworn to raise a host to defend Telnur from the Lisilese. The latest news from the Main Temple's communication runic array speaks of the fact that King Cenwalh has co-opted that effort but the honorary Duchess is still traveling to Kruzser to gather another army as reinforcements for those who answered her call to arms.”

“Quite the Lady, but she sounds much too uptight.” Rasaec mentions offhandedly.

“I would not know, our Shades have not had time to conduct a thorough investigation, which will be more complicated without Aisha in Izla Meria and...” Shayle trails off with a grimace.

“Like mother, like daughter. Although, Vikiana was radiant when she reported her pregnancy and asked to be sent home to raise her.” He reminisces with a smile in his eyes. “I'll have to meet the girl. Summon Vicky to the Palace as well, she had the audacity to break her pledge to me so I'll have to admonish her.” He finishes with humor, hoping to prod and poke the overly serious woman. Rasaec waits for Shayle continue but she doesn't. “What is it?” He asks.

He turns around to find the Master of Shades wearing a sad expression, which only happens when Shayle expects to bring news that will sadden her revered Emperor. Rasaec frowns, giving her no choice but to speak.

“If you'll allow me to finish my report, my Emperor, all will be made clear.” She ceremoniously declares.

“Go ahead, I'm in no hurry to receive my garments.” The Emperor says.

Rasaec expects to hear news of another incident caused by Caeviel's Nobility and another crime committed by his ex-Exemplar to resolve it, thinking Shayle is making such an expression because she expects he'll grant Vikiana an Imperial pardon and cause some turmoil by doing so.

“A few months following Elizabeth Vil's disappearance, which many suspect a trick to conceal the fact she is breaching her exile from the Kingdom, one of her accomplices named Jessica Freepath rose in notoriety because her role in negotiating with the Rykz came to light.” Shayle says. “She is another traitor who is heavily suspected of having drawn plans that facilitated Elizabeth Vil's success.”

“I've told you before, I'll not punish those who did what they had to do in order to survive under the conditions they found themselves.” Rasaec calmly responds to the news. “By the Lake, I fully expected Izla Meria to become a ghost land from starvation by the end of this war. If I could, I would give titles with demesnes attached to them to those who preserved the people of that island by reaching an agreement with the Rykz.” He adds with a glare to the woman.

“This Jessica Freepath, as reported by Master Amand through the communication array, is a peasant who has devised a plowing construct based on principles of the shredding construct with elements of more advanced kinetic constructs and created a runic plow with it.” Shayle explains.

“Truly?” Rasaec asks, surprised. “How efficient is it?”

“It would reportedly easily allow peasantry to plow their fields in half the time, likely less, but requires a family to store their flow for two or three days to use it.” She reports.

“Have the University work on simplifying it for spreading by the Order, whip the specialists in kinetics if they complain since they've not come up with anything comparable for centuries.” Rasaec orders half-jokingly as this put him in a great mood.

“Already done, my Emperor.” Shayle responds. “Nobility is likely to protest at first.”

“Until they realize how much more grain they get from their share of the harvest, yes.” Rasaec dismisses. “Have the Administration implement authorization of use for a year in Mirus, I can deflect their motions since they'll never go through with their threats of cutting the grain supply to my Phalanxes and pay a little more to allay their anger. The other Kingdoms will fall in line once Mirus' Court tries to forbid the runic plow while buying iron to build more.”

“It'll be done.” Shayle says with a bow. “Without boring you with details, Jessica Freepath is outspoken on topics of self-determination and has provoked scuffles with a faction of Izla Meria's Nobility that is supported by King Cenwalh.”

“Turn back Brute and Archer to rescue her if necessary.” Rasaec quickly commands. “I don't care if she killed one or a hundred of Cenwalh's dogs.”

“It isn't necessary, the woman has won every fight she's been in, the Order has in fact recently shared with me a recording from Dilgi in the Duchy of Hetlan. The Countess there was defeated by the snap of her fingers, quite literally, and sent the recording to justify her call for help.”

“Hm, let me see.” Rasaec says, curious as to how this woman who shouldn't have received more than a few tutoring lessons on flow basics grew to be so powerful.

Shayle holds her hand out and a globe of golden light emerges from her palm. It changes to take the shape of two tiny people, one much shorter than the other, facing off.

The one on the right is wearing a long dress with tied long hairs that reach all the way down to her lower back begins slowly raising her hand with an elegant gesture.

The one on the left who has messy hair, a cloak, and three weapons at her waist reacts instantly. She flashes from her position to arrive right in front of the other. Her single arm flickers to reappear next to the other's ear with three fingers joined together.

The small figure snaps and a small line appears from the point of impact, it goes through the Countess' head but also extends the other way. The Lady drops without having put up the shadow of a fight.

“Was that Countess trying to attack at the start?” Rasaec asks the question pertaining to the consequences of this.

“She contests this but, from the Templar's account of the conversation, yes she was about to.” Shayle responds. “It may not be evident but the recording is spotty because the altercation lasted the span of a singular second.”

“That's... almost as fast as Vicky at her fastest.” Rasaec says, baffled. “And she's among the top ten in the Order, I believe.” An Exemplar on a higher step confirms with a nod.

“The line is an addition on my part after a flow-smith analyzed the record and found that she used an extremely thin pin-point burst of kinetic force to shake the woman's brain.” Shayle explains.

“I'm relatively certain that's impossible with our current knowledge.” Rasaec asserts with a questioning tone.

“For now I am provisionally classifying her as an instinctual user who specializes in the singular domain of kinetic force, what is extraordinary about her is that she could translate her perceptions into actionable flow shaping skills to create the plowing construct.” Shayle says.

“Very well.” Rasaec acknowledges with a nod. “What was the cause of that conflict?”

“From what I have been told, the Countess put down complaints a few years ago by having the leaders who brought her their grievances whipped until they lost consciousness.” Shayle explains. “Jessica Freepath chose to do something similar to her but appeared surprised and annoyed the Countess fell in a single blow.”

“What did the Order do back then?” The Emperor questions.

“The records show they followed protocol and gave that Countess a reprimand and a fine taken into her assets.” Shayle replies.

“Hrm.” Rasaec groans. “If there is a singular aspect of your project I fully approve of, it is its potential in finally allowing me a free hand in dishing out punishment.”

“Back to my report.” She asserts before her Emperor falls into a mood that may lead to the Countess' death in a 'hunting' accident. The Archer can shoot precisely enough to cut someone's bowstring when shooting at another's flank to frame the former. “Izla Meria went through a rebellion funded by King Cenwalh which, according to Master Amand, was triggered ahead of time by Jessica Freepath's actions and resulted in the King's forces being obliterated in a trap set by Lady Lance.”

“What are Cenwalh's current plans?” The Emperor asks.

“I believe he is attempting to rally other Nobles around him, he has sent dozens of letters to each of the other five Kingdoms, many to various Noble houses.” Shayle replies instantly, needing no more than to hear the words to recall reports she read weeks ago. “He is using a variety of arguments from the danger of Elizabeth Vil, Jessica Freepath, and Leomi Lance's philosophies because of the popularity these women enjoy and complaints about the Empire's increasingly suffocating grip on Nobility.”

“Increasingly? It has been an excruciatingly slow endeavor that has been burgeoning for some centuries with little result.” Rasaec mocks the complaint.

“My predecessors have extensively written on the matter and its pitfalls, the process must be gradual or put the Empire's stability at risk.” Shayle replies with a gentle tone she has only ever used for her Emperor.

“Yes, yes.” Rasaec sighs at the reminder, he has heard these words dozens if not hundreds of times. “Continue.”

“After the rebellion, a small group of assassins, suspected to work under Duchess Roskal on behalf of King Cenwalh, attempted to approach a cottage the night Leomi Lance and Jessica Freepath sealed their engagement.” Shayle reports.

“Wasn't she involved with Elizabeth Vil?” Rasaec asks, surprised and a bit concerned because it was a good thing for the brutal woman to have indirect ties to one of his Exemplars.

“Yes, but Jessica Freepath and Leomi Lance's history precedes that relationship. By all accounts, which are very few, their past together is both deeper and more complex as well. The honorary Duchess cut the peasant's arm to save her from burning alive after an ambush from Rykz scouts.”

“That would qualify so as to complexity.” Rasaec acknowledges, having himself almost lost an arm to the Lisilese a long time ago.

“This group was intercepted by a patrol which was soon joined in battle by former Exemplar Vikiana. She took a blow to protect her daughter's sword-sworn.” Shayle reports, still holding back but aware the time has come. “Vikiana Ulhark died as a result of poison applied to the blade.

Emperor Rasaec, ruler of seven million humans pales as he hears of a single one's death. He snaps to fully face his Master of Shades in the hope of finding hints of deception on the face of a woman who never jokes even in the lightest of circumstances and has never lied to him about anything.

Her tight expression and previous gentle tone hammer in the realization. She's dead, the woman he took to calling Vicky after hearing her brethren making fun of her in this way and finding her serious but mortified expression very amusing.

“The last lucky break of a dead assassin.” Rasaec spits out with a cold voice, declaring the culprit's life forfeit on the spot. “Make it known, when it is done, that none murders an Exemplar and lives to tell the tale.”

“It will be done as you will, my Emperor.” Shayle acknowledges the command with a deep bow.