Interlude

Augustus

Back and forth did the clock go. Tick and tock, tick and tock, high on the marble wall. Steps resounded outside, following the same pattern as the clock. Each click of the heel a tick, each clock a tock. And to disrupt it all, the door swung open after barely being knocked upon twice. A short man in plate, his face obscured by a coned helmet.

“One should be more patient when approaching the Emperor, messenger,” said Augustus who reclined on his chair, thumb and forefinger on his forehead.

“Forgive me, your Grace, but the High General urged me. Said it was of the utmost importance.” The man bowed. “He awaits in the lounge.”

“If it were so urgent, he would have come himself. And what proper general waits in a lounge?” The emperor stood up. “Away with you. Tell him I will be there in… shortly.”

“Yes, your Grace.” The messenger bowed down and left the room.

Augustus walked towards the window behind him. He looked over his great white city of Lordem and the blue sky that brightened up the pavement. He placed his right palm on the window. The mark, a black serpent biting its own tail, was stinging his eyes. Carved right into his palm, a sign of his contract. “Only a short while left,” he told himself as he walked off.

He moved betwixt pillars of marble and tapestries of teal and cyan. On great and lush carpets, among statues of lords and heroes, near portraits and paintings, he walked. And down the stairs, down the many stairs of his great palace, towards a place wide and with high a roof. A cosy place to wait and recline in. And there, on a soft sofa with twin pillows and a furry cover, sat the High General in his buttoned white coat, his tidy and slicked hair, and his one pale eye.

“Drusus-“

“That’s me,” the general interrupted the Emperor and pointed at himself.

“Rather than wait here, why did you not come up stairs for wine?”

“Hazu, why tire myself when I can wait? Why drink wine with poison when you can stab me?” he spoke with an old accent and, at times, used words long forgotten by most Kyrioneans.

“Do you not think it is common courtesy to approach the Emperor yourself? You forget yourself.”

“Alis, alis, but I come here seeking my friend, not my Emperor. After all, I…” he chuckled. “I might’ve done something to earn your ire.”

“Besides making me walk all the way down here?” He faked a shiver. “Come, then, anger me.”

He placed his hands together. “I have conquered the city of Dammrias.”

Augustus stood there, dumbfounded. “…Would you kindly repeat that?”

“Your Grace, the city of Dammrias is once more under Imperial control.”

“We have not made an official declaration of war. You did not have any command or permission to assault the Fatherlands. I will be the one to suffer for this, do you understand that?” he spoke, calmly.

“Worry not, adeyl, they are not even aware the city is ours. We have infiltrated the guard and our soldiers will shortly move in to garrison the city, without a single drop of blood. All is-“

Augustus struck his own face. “You stupid idiot. Recall the men, tell them to confront the Fatherlands army in the east.”

“What? Hazu, why do such a thing? Throw away our advantage?”

“Attack their army just as the Ereyans begin their attack. And send at least a hundred back to the city.”

“I fail to understand why, your Grace.”

Augustus thought about telling Drusus about the Azure Throne of Dammrias and what would happen to the soldiers inside the city. But he could not. No one outside the Selenius bloodline could comprehend the meaning. “Because we will win on an open field. It is a matter of honour, Drusus.”

“And friendship, as well. You could never backstab Maryeal, could you?”

“Friends are more valuable than any gold or trinket, to be sure. Both he and I understand that this war is a must, though you have started it sooner than you should have. He already knows we are at war, I have no doubt.”

“How would he possibly know?”

Augustus could not tell him why. He shrugged his shoulders. “He knows, that is all you need to concern yourself with. Now, will you be staying for lunch?”

Drusus stood up. “Ohy, I will send a message to the generals, and drill our reserves for now.” He rested his hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. “A famous bard is coming to Lordem in a week or so, right? I will be in the city then.” He started to walk away.

“Drusus,” the Emperor spoke. “We will see each other then.” He could not say what he wanted to say, but a farewell was enough.

He nodded. “We will.” And left.

Augustus sighed. Up the stairs. Up the damn stairs.

Upon entering his room, he was forced to duck and then retaliate with a hand chop on the top of the head. “Ouch owie.” The assailant backed off, clutching his head and dropping down on the floormat.

“Where did you go off to, Elyn?” he asked the copper haired fellow on the floor.

“Was hungry,” he responded, scratching his cheek.

“What did you do? The soul-orb should be providing enough energy to you, and I’ve forbidden you from assaulting the citizens for your needs. You’ve five seconds to explain yourself before I punish you harder than any devil in hell.”

“Honey filled buns.” He reached out with one. “Want?”

Augustus gave out a breath of relief. “No, no, eat all of it. Did you act properly? You paid, as well, didn’t you? If you stole it, I’ll have you go back there.”

He pointed at the table. “Money’s there. Had only a large coin, got small ones back.” He stuffed himself with a bun. The black serpent was visible on his right hand.

“Good.” The Emperor looked at the clock. Thirteen to one did the arms show. “About a week more and you’ll reattain your knowledge. Won’t have to school you any longer then.” He sat down on his seat.

“Will I see her?” the homunculus asked.

Augustus extended his arm. His eyes fell on the black serpent. “You will meet her. The end is in the beginning, after all.” Still gazing, he began to recite the words that bound him and the homunculus.

Eternity, eater of thine own tail.

Before you let it be known, I as Master of the Elder Arts, and this being as my Servant to kneel before me till death of spirit be my destiny, I command the Stars, the Sun, and the Moon, bind these hearts, now and forever, lock these fates, from now till the end.

By the Four-pointed Wheel of Reality, amidst Dream and Darkness, let the binding brand be given.

From the beginning, to the conclusion.

He slumped down in his seat, eyes weary. “From the beginning you’ve ruled this land,” he told a tall figure standing behind him, face shadowed underneath his long brown hair. “I wonder if I’ll see the kingdom you dream of, free and peaceful,” he shut his eyes, “my king.” And fell asleep.