Shadows of the Past [Private]

[TheDarkDM]

Night fell on the Ice Palace of Faedas, yet within its vaunted halls there was no rest to be found. For days, servants and dignitaries of the kingdom had scurried through its chambers in a state of near-panic, awaiting the arrival and eventual dictates of their old Queen returned. With things as they were, it was no surprise to the guards at the gate when a traveler approached, and while most simply stepped forward to see what the vagrant wanted, the sight of him made their commander's blood run cold. He had been a guard for the Varinel dynasty since the days of Kyria's first reign, and though those days had passed into the fog of memory he still remembered the figure in the black cloak. Waving his subordinates aside, he allowed the towering figure entry with not a word, but only after sending a runner to the queen's chambers.

Nezetkhamun is here.

[Reggiejam]

It had been almost two months now since Kyria had returned from her temporary grave at the Nighthawk and heard the stories told of Lorisanth's kidnapping, the death of Meztli, and the reformation of the Empire of Dawn as the Empire of Dusk. Major happenings within the Freehold, and Telluris at large, indicative of the difference between the Varinel twins. She had heard the stories with varying levels of emotion, from icy calm to burning fury. More than one courtier of poor phrasing had paid their blood-life to the blind vampiress. Following a period of seclusion and contemplation she had clutched the blood ruby that hung about her neck and sent a summoning call to the Dragon of the East, Nezetkhamun, a man she saw as a father she had never had, eager to speak with him of what had happened, what would happen now.

She had emerged from her seclusion with news reaching her of Eastern practices carried out in the name of Tzeltulep within the Blazing Temple. The Children, still fervent with the words of her sister were demanding action. The political pressures of the Dusk matching their cries that the subversion of the Temple must be met. Kyria had met the news with a steely face but inside she felt a deep fear and anger. Was it that the Tzaltec were still operating with assumptions that Kyria could undo the actions of her sister? Were they simply so calloused by her sister's spurning that they sought now to put Kyria in a further position of conflict? Hopefully Nezetkhamun would have answers.

One of Kyria's elder guards, a werekin former member of the Faedic Order and now a well ranked Warden ushered in the figure who's heat radiated from beneath his clothing. Though Kyria's eyes could not see and her skin was cold as death she felt the warmth of this presence as familiar as the touch of Kina through the traveling shadow. Kyria nodded towards the Warden, his scent telling his fear and apprehension clearly as he scurried out of the chamber leaving the two immortals alone. Seemingly.

"Nezetkhamun, it has been a long time since I have felt your presence. Thank you for answering my call, for coming to see me. There are many questions that clutter my mind, many I hope you will have answers to. But please, take a seat, relax yourself. I presume this was a long flight, though perhaps one you planned to take owing to the activities atop my mountain border?"

[TheDarkDM]

Nezetkhamun slid back the hood of a cloak that was more animate shadow than cloth, his blazing golden eyes meeting Kyria's blind ones with barely-restrained joy tinged with sorrow. He moved forward, but not to take a seat - he approached the queen herself, cupping her cheek with a tenderness that would have shocked Kyria's new allies.

"My dear one, I cannot tell you how good it is to see you after all these years. I had hoped your time in Kina's grove might have restored to you what was so cruelly taken, but I suppose it was not meant to be. Oh, that I could have shielded you from these cruelties..."

He stepped away, taking a seat near Kyria and leaning into a comfortable position.

"You speak of Ramzi and his revelations? No, I do not come for them, I come for you Kyria. Though if the salvation of the lost children of Tzetultep has unsettled you I am sorry. But tell me, your awakening went undisturbed? With the chaos in the west I had feared the worst."

[Reggiejam]

Kyria allowed the Dragon to caress her cheek, though her jaw was clenched and stood firm against his tender hand. Her memory still held the man before her as an ally, a friend, a family she trusted but after what she had heard she knew not where they stood.

"You needn't speak of salvation as though you speak to my sister Nezet. Yours and I are souls bound to different truths but not beholden to espouse them in this realm. It is not what has transpired upon the Temple's grounds but the time, and the location of the Temple..." Kyria trailed off, halting herself from further discussion with a change of subject to address his expressed concern.

"The conflict of the West drives farther than the Grove. I travelled freely from Tar following my crowning by the Eldest. It was not my awakening that disturbed, but what I found upon awakening."

The Queen laid back in the cushions of the salon's couch, the sparse firelight of the dark room catching the jewels of her veil.

"I have heard many things Nezet, many things involving you and your family and my realm. These things I have heard I have heard from witnesses, from those rare survived of events and so I feel a biased image has been painted. Look at the Freehold, great vassal of an Empire, grown in land by pacts of faith and fealty and shrunken in imminence by the same. A nation stabbed in the heart, a throne stolen and restored, but I cannot see for the truth if it was friend of old or those who claim to be my new friend that opened this wound upon the realm I left."

"I left instructions that my sister was to be watched by your eyes. Deposed if exhibiting signs of madness, of unbridled fealty to the Eldest in Tar. I left a daughter of mine, a granddaughter of your own to act in my name. I return to hear my sister was stolen for a stray word spoken in sisterly feud against my legacy and the blood of our family spilled by Tzaltec blade. The fruit of further union ended in our child of fire and shadow's womb. Is it any wonder my sister sought refuge with the Dawn-turned-Dusk? And now as if in spiteful hatred upon my sister without foresight to see my return your First Brother proclaims himself a follower of the Dragon at the dawn of my reign returned? Doing so not where I might ignore it in deference to our long friendship but upon the border shared by my nation and the two others now bound with me in Empire?"

Kyria let out a sigh, her voice which had risen in pitch and intensity softening, "Please Nezie, I need to understand what happened. I need to understand why."

[TheDarkDM]

Nezetkhamun was quiet for a moment before leaning forward.

"I can understand how this hurricane of events must seem linked by fate or by design, but believe me when I say that what has occurred at the temple was outside my hands or the hands of my blood. A seed was planted, nothing more, and in halting the rampage of the Bale Horse before it began it flowered and was taken into the heart of the Blazing Temple. There, it stretched for its roots into the hearts of the two surviving Blazing Avatars and the monks there. That it bears fruit now after decades of careful cultivation is the decision of the matured seed, not the gardeners who placed it there so many years ago. Perhaps the First Brother waited until your sister had returned to her sleep intentionally, but I think it more likely he was unable to contain his fervor when news of the third Blazing Avatar's death at Stuyvesant's hand reached him. But that is not the heart of your concerns."

He paused, exhaling a breath that was hot as that from a blacksmith's bellows.

"Where to begin with the calamity that emerged from Loris and Meztli's feuding. First, you must understand that it was that feud, more than anything, that moved my son to support his daughter. Though Loris first engendered my doubts at our first meeting. I greeted her in friendship, only to be informed that the bonds of the Concordat were the only ones that united us. Loris felt deeply the animosity directed at Tzalteclan from Tar, an animosity we have never returned. Indeed, many are the insults levied at us by the Seaborne Confederation, both in person and through their agents in FATS. But that is of little concern to you. Let us simply say that Loris made it quite clear that my family was no longer welcome in Faedas, as you feared. It seems their discretion, increased at my son's command, was not enough, for Loris made it quite clear that she would dispose of any fruit of their union. This, in our first meeting Kyria. I came to her as a friend and she threatened my family."

The memory had clearly agitated Nezetkhamun, but his voice remained even.

"But she was your sister, so my son and I agreed with her demand and forbade Aahotepre from travelling to Faedas. Yet even as I left that meeting, your sister's emaciated form seared into my mind, one of Meztli's servants, your servants, approached me with apology. From that first meeting it became clear that discord had descended on Faedas, a discord that grew more pronounced as time went on. We heard disturbing rumors of Loris reaching out to your brother in Hurosha, a move that since then has borne fruit but at the time seemed yet another paradigm shift away from the nation you had established. In secret we consulted with Meztli, and she painted a picture of your sister's self-abuse, her zeal, and her scorn for the efforts of Meztli in maintaining order. It seemed a conflict was inevitable, so my son backed Mezetli's plan to secure the country in your name. The Faedic Order abducted Loris and delivered her to me, where she was housed in a gilded prison built especially for her. No amenity, no luxury, would have been denied her. Indeed, her health began to improve immediately when we made available a source of blood she did not have to personally drain. Yet Meztli's claim as regent was insufficient to protect the Throne of Thorns for the line of Varinel, as other lesser cousins with ties to the Empire of Dawn were eagerly waiting to assume control. Senusret offered the Unmarked to...remove the obstacle, and Meztli agreed. Yet those lesser branches were not without their own base cunning, and with the aid of illusionists from the Radurjic Republics they cloaked their escape from Faedas and placed an illusion over Meztli, making her appear as one of the targets. Aahotepre too, for he had traveled to Faedas without our knowledge to be with her. So my son lost two children, all for my promise."

He seemed unable to continue, but eventually spoke again.

"Things moved quickly then. The wife of a Serendel took the Throne of Thorns, and Loris sent a cry through the shadows for all the Children to hear. It seems that despite her self-abuse, her spirit remained as strong as yours. Regardless, the guardian of your legacy was gone, and the only way I could see to keep my promise to you was to release Loris that the throne might remain open for your return. I realize this may seem the evasions of a false friend - it is true that the Empire of Dawn and the Seaborne Confederacy were baying for blood, and Loris' return averted war. But in revealing her abduction, we also shattered the fragile confidence of Torre of Glazfell, and wrought the destruction of the Concordat. Perhaps it was inevitable, three nations so bound by three disparate faiths. But our motives, however misguided, were always grounded in my promise to you. Many are the times I have cursed the ease with which I made that promise. Oh, I do not blame you, you did the best you could to cushion your sister's arrival. But had it not been for my vow we could have weathered Loris' fanaticism for the good of the state. And my affection towards you. But you asked me to remove her from the Throne of Thorns should she become a liability, should she pose a danger to herself. In my eyes, in Senusret's eyes, in Meztli's eyes that had come to pass. So we sought to remove her, and disaster followed."

[Reggiejam]

Kyria was silent for a moment, and then a moment more as she contemplated Nezetkhamun's words.

"You did what you thought was right. You did what I asked of you," she grew silent once more, her face sunken beneath her veil.

"I can hear it well in your voice the truth ringing clear when you speak of this. I can hear the pain of Meztli's death to match my own. For this you have my thanks, and my forgiveness for in truth I know not which of the two I owe you."

She stood now from her couch and walked over to join Nezetkhamun, sitting down in his lap as a child, or a lover, might do.

She reached up to cup his face gently, turning its fiery visage towards her own deathly pallor, "I offer my apology as well, to force your hand in making a decision you should not have been forced to make. You have been like a father to me, and a friend. For that I overreached and asked of you what should not have been. That the promise I bade you keep divided the family of the Concordat, the only family I ever truly loved saddens me greatly. Perhaps with my return it might be rebuilt, but I fear this seed you hold no claim to may make that yet more troublesome."

Kyria rose from the dragon's lap gracefully, her body swaying as she walked away, remaining with her back to Nezetkhamun as she spoke once more.

"My sister for all her weakness in form was never weak in faith. The Children of Kina within Faedas witness the acts atop the Temple and hear Tar decry them and call the Children to action. My nation lies within an Empire bonded to yours with only hateful history. To the south the Jarrows stir to march north and claim the Temple for themselves."

She turned around to face Nezet, though her eyes were blind the effect was still chilling. Perhaps not for the Dragon of the East but any other would sense her seething cold frustration.

"A tree I did not know of and did not want now stands stark and blazing in my field of shadow. If this matured seed is not belonged to the gardener I will presume it would not be outside the realm of the holder of the demesne to remove such an unwanted perturbation?"

[TheDarkDM]

Nezetkhamun accepted Kyria into his lap gladly, the heat from his body softening into an all-encompassing warmth as she remained there. It remained that way even after she rose, and was only broken by his half-contained snort at the mention of Tar.

"I will admit no small confusion at the sudden interest the Children seem to have taken with the Lord of Fire. I suppose the Eldest may be forgiven on the grounds of simple ignorance, and a long sequestration in the bosom of peace, but I doubt it."

Nezetkhamun rose, moving to stand alongside Kyria.

"Do you know what you would find, if you examined for yourself the old texts of the Lord of Fire religion, the foundational works that predate its division and its hobbling? Blood sacrifice. The divine right of kings. The unyielding fire of a true god, and not the pale flickering shadow it has become. Have you never wondered how Adam was able to seize the power he did? If the Eldest Child's interpretation of the Lord of Fire is true, how then can he explain the events of that tumultuous time? Divine revelation rose from the red earth, not in response to a cry for compassion or harmony but from the sacrifice of one exceptional man. As difficult as it may be to believe in an age where Kina shares a bed with the shades of Ashmar and Hurosha's sickening affair with creatures from the dark chaos of the beyond goes unmentioned, the Lord of Fire has always been kith and kin to the Dragon of Earth and Fire. How else would Brother Ramzi have led the effort to subdue the Bale Horse? He had no power in the greater ministry then, simply a belief. A belief that drew the attention of the god worshiped in the Blazing Temple."

He sighed, and placed a conciliatory hand on Kyria's shoulder.

"None of which makes your position any easier. I know that your allegiance, your devotion, to the Mother is absolute. Never have I questioned that, or doubted it, for indeed Kina is seen as a blessed figure in Tzalteclan as well as Tar. This animosity has always been a one-sided one, charging forth from a land built upon the foundations of regicidal massacre. The Eldest even manages to find fault in Ramzi's attempt to bring an end to Stuyvesant's plague by chastising his reasons. Rather convenient, for a man whose government traffics in debilitating narcotics to suddenly find his heart filled with concern for the commons. Even now thousands die on his word, for the foul cancer of republicanism knows no means but slaughter to protect their twisted ideology. But if you feel you must bow to this man you will long survive, I will not fault you. Nor indeed can Tzalteclan strike back. Now that foolish, short-sighted war has engulfed the West they will be far easier prey for the Kazul. We do not intend to be left so defenseless."

His hand slipped away and he returned to his seat.

"It was a beautiful thing though, our Concordat, was it not? Three nations of different faiths united by the ideology of power, by a mutual respect for the empires we would sculpt. We defied a world that reviled us, betrayed us. But now it seems, at the end of all things, our bonds of blood and honor must give way to a time of madness and contempt. Your Freehold has become a jewel in the crown of an empire we once brought low, defeated not by force of arms or cunning, but by one ambitious craven and your sister's honor."

[Reggiejam]

"It was indeed beautiful Nezet. A beautiful thing built on trust, on respect, just as you said. A trust you seem incapable of upholding. The more you speak the more I hear it. Your mind is so obsessed with recognition, with being seen as right, with vindication and vanity that you have not paused to question whether you should do what you do."

Kyria's voice was soft, it might have shook were she not well over a century old, younger than Nezetkhamun but no less his equal in immortality.

"The ease with which you identified madness in my sister and sought to bring my promised words to fruition might be forgiven if it were not followed on the heels by this new attempt to turn the teachings of the Temple to your own. This done on my doorstep. A Temple lying in the mountains that mark the Heartwaste's border and you take it as your own to do with as you will. I had thought you wise Nezet, it is why I trusted you with the watchful stewardship of my kingdom but upon emerging I see what a mistake I made in doing so. There is no respect in your actions, and your easily bruised ego shattered by the faintest touches of criticism reveals a desperate man beneath."

"Could you hold power if you were not born to it? I can hear the question echo in your voice as you condemn a man your equal for his origin and words of mortal men. You are not above it, you are shaken by it. My mind is sharp, fierce, the mind of a leader whether as Queen or as common captain of ship or caravan. Born high or low my name would be known. You, you are not sure yours would be. It is why you seek so desperately to make yourself the object to which people cling. Slaves and the weak of mind are the only ones who follow in your steps, all others have abandoned your Empire."

"My nation may now be but a jewel in the crown of another, but I take solace knowing this jewel will endure, unlike the cracking crown of Tzalteclan bent around the desert wastes. I fear the Concordat has been broken. Broken by the petty vanity of a man who learns not from his Mother. I am deeply saddened Nezet, I don't want this to be true but I see no other truth of it."

Kyria shook her head in a slow, sad fashion.

"I must address the Temple. Its disunion threatens my realm and the one to which I am bound. I have no doubt the Sobridans will make an appearance and with them I do not know what will come. All I know is this, you will always be as a father to me Nezet. But much as my father of blood your vanity has been your undoing and in its wake it has destroyed what could have been. Please, leave me now to mourn this loss."

[TheDarkDM]

Nezetkhamun stood slowly, though there was not a hint of rage on his face.

"You compare me with Wayve? Perhaps an insult well earned, considering how deeply I failed you. But you forget your history. I overcame six siblings to gain my position, and the seven of us overcame thirty two others to have the honor of the attempt. I have no doubt that I will be judged by Kina should I ever hear the Silver Lady's call, but I am just as certain of the glorious afterlife awaiting me. I forged an empire that will endure this new cataclysm, and a legacy that will endure even when my empire has crumbled to dust."

The shadows wrapped around Nezetkhamun tightly, the hood of his twining robe rising to shade his head once more.

"Mourn my love for you if you must, Kyria, but know that I will never abandon you. You cannot imagine the pride I have felt as you forged a kingdom by your own hand. It is a pride that cannot be shaken by this squabble of decades or the distant condemnations of one mortal theologian. We are eternal, Kyria. And my love for you will burn eternally."

With that, he was gone. A shadow blooming in the skies over Faedas only to grow fainter as it joined the stars.