Quang Chang, The King of the River

Quang Chang was not a man who liked to admit he’d fucked up.

However, once reports started coming in that those incompetent little shits Wen and Olivia hadn’t even slowed down the Sunset Kingdom, he’d (reluctantly) come to admit that he may not have made the best decision declaring this war.

Or maybe he’d just put too much faith in his allies. After all, Tobias Kemp, King of the Wustenreich, was turning out to be just as much of a colossal disappointment as those morons to his south had been.

“Surely you didn’t just say what I think you said?!” Tobais exclaimed angrily. Just another sign of his incompetence—any of Quang’s people would already accept that he knew best, showing how much smarter they were than this so-called ‘King.’

“I said,” Quang scoffed, glaring up at the man. Really, why was he so unreasonably tall? “That I am sending the army to go deal with the Southerners. It’s best we stop them now, before they get too far.”

“What are you—!?” the other King looked actually shocked, as though he couldn’t even conceive of the notion that some people actually had strategic sense. “What do you mean we’re pulling back!? It’s been almost two months since we started this siege, and you’re just thinking of up and abandoning it!? After all the time and effort we wasted here, you’re just giving up!?”

Couldn’t this man understand that his own lands were more important than one petty siege!?

“Of course not, you foolish oaf!” he scoffed. “The scattered remnants of this Aniruddha’s army can’t do anything to us, but King Joseph’s army certainly can. As such, it’s better to destroy it before it can do too much damage.”

The brown-haired German glared at him angrily. “Wen died buying us time to take this city, and now you’re going to throw away his sacrifice just like that? Where’s your honor!?”

Honestly. He should have allied the Sunset Kingdom rather than these morons.

“Wen did not die for us. I sincerely doubt he had any plans to die at all. In fact, I bet he surrendered the second he could, hoping that Joseph’s attack dog would spare his life. She didn’t, of course, and I’m sure he died regretting his betrayal of us.”

“You are insufferable,” Tobias snarled. “Not everything is about you, you know!? Can’t you just be a decent human being, for five fucking minutes.”

“Whatever,” Quang rolled his eyes, waving away the argument. Like he cared what Tobias thought about him—he’d need to take him out later anyhow to grow his own empire, so it wasn’t like he cared what a dead man thought. “I’m pulling back my army tomorrow morning. I hope yours will join me—it will be easier to crush Joseph’s army with your numbers backing me up, after all.”

Tobias took a deep, deep breath, before sighing. “…Fine. Fine! I’m stuck with you until the end of this war anyhow, might as well make sure I don’t go down with you.”

“Excellent!” Quang smiled politely, inwardly wondering how he’d deal with Tobias once this was all over. Perhaps he’d send his army first, to soften the Sunset army up and take most of the losses, while his army swooped in at the end to save the day? It’d kill two birds with one stone, to be sure, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to convince the moron in front of him to go along with it—he’d always had problems listening to his betters. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

“…Yes,” Tobias huffed. “You will. But remember, Quang—I have my limits. Do not test them.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” he nodded absently, already ignoring him. “Now, if we’re done here, I have more important things to do. Ah! My servants should have finished preparing my meal by now, I should definitely see to that first…”

Behind him, Tobias sighed quietly. “God, I fucking hate that guy.”

--

Antonia Santos, The Queen of Stars

There is a story told by the people of the Starfell Kingdom. A story about the Queen, the gods, and the falling star that began it all.

It began simple, as all stories do. It spoke of the gods, those divine beings who lived in the heavens. Of how the gods could not accept the mortal world how it was—they said that it was flawed, in need of guidance and support. That they needed to save the mortals from their own sinful ways.

But what the petty gods could not agree upon was how they should go about doing so.

Some gods wished to wipe the slate clean; start anew, with new humans and a new civilization. Others wanted a more peaceful approach, to guide the mortals back to the righteous path. And others still argued they should do nothing, that their meddling would do naught but worsen the mortal world.

And so they argued, and argued, and argued.

But in the end the gods could not come to a decision. And as they squabbled, below them the world rotted in their absence. The gods, too absorbed in their own egos, did nothing.

But not all was lost, for not all the beings living in the heavens were content to ignore the world below.

The Sun looked down upon the world and grew angry, its fury growing hotter each day. The Moon looked down upon the world and grew sad, its tears falling heavier each night. And the Stars looked down upon the world and grew despondent, their light twinkling ever dimmer. And as years went by with nothing being done, the celestial bodies came to their own agreement, separate from the other bickering gods.

To the North, the Sun descended, its heat causing the palm trees along the banks of the river to burn with divine fire. There the Sun Rested for three nightless days, before ascending back into the heavens, leaving behind only ashes. And from beneath those ashes rose the Sun King, the Pharaoh who would rule the North.

To the South, the Moon cried for three dayless nights. But these tears were special, filled with its divine power, and so the Moon could only cry two tears each night. And from each tear rose a Lord of the Moon, who came together to rule the mountains to the South.

And in between, a single Star descended. A bright light which streaked across the purple sky during the transition between the Third Day and the First Night, and upon its landing heralded the Queen of the Stars, who founded the Starfell Kingdom on that very spot.

And so, the three Kingdoms were born.

It was a very dramatic story, whose details changed from telling to telling. But it was just that, a story.

Antonia Santos, Queen of the Starfell Kingdom, didn’t normally think much of it. Her vassal and (only) friend Alya Ahmad made up part of it, telling it to the children in the Capital. From there it had spread, mutating into a fantastical tale that people didn’t so much believe in as they wanted to believe in. To believe that they lived in a story, ruled by a divine queen chosen by the gods. Even people who knew it was fake would tell the story with a proud smile on their face. It had kind of spooked her, in some cases, how quickly it spread.

Of course, not every part of the story was fake. There was a kernel of truth in everything, she supposed. The ’Star’ part of the story was actually kind of true. A meteorite had flown across the sky a few weeks after she’d arrived in this world, crashing off in the desert nearby—it was from there that she came up with the name ‘Starfell’ for her capital and Kingdom. The remnants of that meteorite now sat in her throne room besides her throne for all to see.

All that said, beyond ideas of truth and fiction, the story normally didn’t come up around her. It was a story about her, after all—and one normally didn’t tell someone their own origin story.

However, whenever she thought about her neighboring Kingdoms, it was that story that always came to mind.

The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars.

To the North lies the Kingdom of Sunset, ruled by the God-King Joseph, whose power was enforced through an unknown number of vassals. To the South lies the Moonlight Oligarchy, an alliance of God-Kings who ruled from their many cities nestled within the Moon-Touched Mountains. And in between it all is her own Starfell Kingdom, at this point blocked from expanding in either direction.

The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. Three Kingdoms, three lands, three peoples.

If only she had been faster. Then there might have been only one.

But there weren’t, and that was something she had to live with for now. So, instead of the sweeping conquests that characterized her first year in this world, now she took small, incremental steps.

The ‘Kingdom’ of Getoralaind was a small, insignificant border state between the Sunset and the Stars. She had tried to crush it once before, only to be met with a warning by the Sunset Kingdom, which feared having a direct border with her. At the time, not willing to go to war with her northern neighbor, she’d accepted and pulled back.

But the Sunset Kingdom has turned its eyes away from the south, and so now it was time to push.

“Is everything prepared?” she asked Alya, staring out from atop the walls of Starfell. Below her, her army buzzed with nervous energy, ready and waiting for orders from their Queen.

Alya—who’d been using a big walking stick to doodle in the loose sand—snapped to attention, giving her a sloppy salute. “Yessir, Boss-lady! The stars are aligned, our chakra’s are vibing, and I think I saw a dove flying overhead earlier! Though that might have been a vulture, come to think of it…”

Alya Ahmad, her vassal and second in command, was a dark-skinned Malaysian woman with short and wavy black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Having wrapped herself up in all sorts of colorful linens beneath a set of mismatching armor, the woman had a… unique way of looking at the world.

That said, Antonia wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Good,” she nodded. “In that case, sound the horn and prepare to send out our demands. If this King is smart, perhaps he will listen the first time.”

“Yessir!” giving her one more sloppy salute, Alya reached over to the nearest general, snatching his warhorn off his belt. Why she did that when she already had one of her own, Antonia didn’t bother to guess. Bringing the warhorn up to her lips, Alya let out a loud, echoing bellow.

The sound blasted out over the army, causing all conversation to cease as the hundreds of people all turned at once to look at their Queen.

The attention would have been nerve-wracking a year ago. But she was no longer the inexperienced whelp she had been then, and so bore their stares with ease.

It also helped that she wasn’t the one giving speeches.

“Hey! Yo!” Alya shouted, raising the hand holding the warhorn and shaking it around in the air, as though she still needed to get their attention. “You all can see me, right? Coolio!”

Antonia sometimes wondered if it was the stress of the situation they founded themselves in, or if Alya was always just Like That.

“So, anyways,” Alya continued, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I’d like to thank y’all for coming out here today, real rad of you! We’re here to finally take back Gatorland after that whole debacle last year—y’all remember it, right? The one that almost turned into a war with the Sun King?”

There was chorus of nods and yeses from the army, which Alya nodded at like she was a teacher asking if her students had all remembered their homework last night.

“Good, good! Now, I know I don’t need to tell y’all this, but the gods are on our side—I did a whole divination thing last night and everything! The stars are, in fact, aligned! The Sun’s looking away, and the Moon doesn’t give a damn. So we’re all good to go!”

The army exploded into rapturous applause, letting out enthusiastic hooting and cheering as though Alya had just given an incredibly moving speech and not… whatever that was.

Alya had a way with words that Antonia could never compete with. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“We’re moving out now!” she continued as the cheers began to die out. “Make sure you got all your stuff ready, ‘cause the next time the horn blows, we’re leaving!”

And as her army began moving below her, Antonia Santos, Queen of the Stars, smiled.

It was always nice when things went your way.