Death’s Daughter and the Ebony Blade: Volume 4

Prologue: The Jewel of the South The United City-States of Sutherland was formed from thirteen cities in the south of Duvedirica. Each city retained political autonomy, while Union policy was decided by the Council of the Thirteen Stars, an assembly comprised of the lords of each city. As a nation, it boasted a population of a hundred million, placing it among the ranks of the Kingdom of Fernest and the Asvelt Empire as one of the three great nations of Duvedirica. All thirteen cities kept their own standing army, and in the Charter of the Sutherland Thirteen it was stipulated that, in a time of crisis, these armies would form a coalition force to address a foreign threat. This is getting troublesome... a young man thought as he made his way down the corridor. He was a soldier in the army of the Third City of Bay Grand, which was in possession of the most extensive domain of all thirteen cities. Report clutched in one hand, he headed for the lord’s office. This young man, with his soft, bright eyes, was Julius lila Fiphus. He was a general at only twenty-two summers old, but he hadn’t gotten there by the preeminence of the Fiphus name alone. He had extraordinary talent as a strategist and tactician and had amply demonstrated as much. This, combined with a number of instances of good luck, had established him in his current position. Along with his genial disposition, he was a topic of some interest among the ladies. Julius proceeded down the corridor, exchanging salutes with the other officers he passed until he came to a halt in front of an elaborately carved door. The design was one of seventh-century sculptor Trois Schiele’s, a dynamic swirl of flowers intricately etched into its surface. “Is the lord in?” Julius asked. “Yes, ser! His Lordship is already in attendance,” the guard answered with a salute. Julius nodded, took a breath to settle himself, then clenched his fist and knocked lightly on the door. “Excuse me, my lord,” he said as he opened the door. Standing atop a perfectly conical hill, Rizen Castle was a magnificent construction. It almost seemed to float amongst the clouds, the sight of which had led the common folk to call it “the castle in the sky.” Julius stepped into the room, walled all around with glass and commanding a sweeping view over the city. There, behind a heavy desk, sat the commander in chief of the Bay Grand Army, Leon von Elfriede. He stared intently at Julius. “Whenever you make that face, often as not it means you’ve come to me with trouble.” Julius was taken aback at the first words out of Leon’s mouth. He hadn’t meant to let any of his feelings show on his face, but the comment hit so close to the mark that he found himself unable to immediately respond. Wincing internally, he made himself approach the desk. “You understand me better than I understand myself, Lord Leon,” he said. Leon scoffed. “What’s all this now? You’ve been on me like a rash since we were children. It’s only natural that I can glean that much.” Holding out a careless hand, he said, “Now, am I correct in thinking that whatever you have in your hand there is the culprit behind that look on your face?” Julius passed him the report and Leon skimmed over it. His well-sculpted physique was readily apparent, even hidden under his dark green military uniform. His hair was so blond as to be almost transparent, and his clean-cut features lent nobility to his countenance. His eyes, with their unique, iridescent irises, shone keenly, like the edge of a blade forged with the most painstaking efforts of a master smith. Yet the only one who saw down to the harsh glint hidden deeper within was Julius. Leon’s ambition was not public knowledge. “There are signs that the Twelfth City is going to invade Fernest...” Leon said. “I really did not see that coming. Having said that, I don’t know what about this is making you worry. I can only wish them well in their endeavor.” Julius had been so sure that Leon would be concerned by the news that, met with this indifference, he stared back at the man as though he were contemplating a rare beast. “Hm? Is my face so unusual? I’d have thought you’d be sick of it,” Leon said, making a show of massaging his cheeks. “No, that’s not...” Julius stammered. “Is this right?” Leon leaned back in his chair and frowned, his eyebrows pointing downward. This was not the response merited by an indirect question. “Whether it’s right or otherwise isn’t the point. The thirteen cities are all of equal standing. If the Twelfth City were going to break our secret agreement with the empire, that would be a different story, but invading Fernest in and of itself? That isn’t a problem. It’s not like the empire told us to leave them alone either. This would constitute interfering in the affairs of the union. I can’t say anything.” It was true; none of the thirteen cities were greater or lesser than the others. They were all of equal standing. Having said that, the reality was that they were both equal and they were not. Power differentials naturally formed based on the scales of each city. As a soldier, Julius wasn’t about to naysay a war, but at the same time, he couldn’t discern what significance there might be in the Twelfth City opening hostilities with the Royal Army at this juncture. He was apprehensive of the risk the citizenry might be exposed to should war break out. If Leon would only advise the Twelfth City as much, they surely could not ignore him. And yet he still won’t say anything. That must mean he really has no interest, Julius thought. Knowing he was wasting his breath, he tried a different approach. “But my lord, the United City-States of