[Eshkaran Empire—Imperial Palace—Playroom—Continuation]
"I need a drink."
Enlil Nabu stared at her.
Seyra stared back, and for several agonizing seconds, neither child moved. Somewhere behind them, a wooden chariot rolled off a table and struck the floor with a clatter.
Neither of them looked at it.
Enlil had prepared himself for many possibilities on his walk across the playroom. Seyra Veyrath might threaten him. She might demand to know his family’s political allegiances. She might even summon a terrifying elemental spirit and turn him into a decorative garden statue.
He had not prepared himself to be asked for a drink.
Enlil blinked.
"P-pardon?"
Seyra blinked back.
For a moment, the two children stared at each other beneath the golden sunlight filtering through the cedar windows. The room was warm, the air still, and Enlil was beginning to suspect that approaching the daughter of the Silent Tempest had been a terrible decision.
Then Seyra’s face suddenly brightened; she caught both his hands in hers and smiled.
"Hello! I am Seyra Veyrath. Nice to meet you~~"
Enlil looked down at their joined hands, then up at her face. His cheeks turned red as a ripe pomegranate.
"I-I am Enlil Nabu. It’s nice to meet you, Lady Seyra."
He bowed awkwardly. Seyra nodded with great satisfaction before releasing his hands and ruffling his hair.
"What a good child you are. Your greeting is quite impressive for someone your age."
Enlil froze.
He was five and she was four. Why did he suddenly feel as though he had just received praise from his grandmother?
Captain Ishtar watched them from behind and sighed in relief and muttered, "Perhaps the Azram can finally relax."
At least the young lady wasn’t threatening anyone. Yet. Enlil straightened his clothes, still blushing. "D-do you need something to drink, Lady Seyra? The palace has prepared plenty of sweets, too."
Seyra smiled benevolently.
"It’s all right, little one. I’ve already eaten plenty of snacks in the carriage."
Captain Ishtar pressed her lips together.
Little one?
Her lady was four years old, and she was addressing a five-year-old as though she had personally raised him through three dynasties.
"How old are you, my lady?" Enlil asked curiously.
Seyra smiled with the confidence of a woman who had paid taxes, survived office politics, and endured meetings that should have been messages.
"I am old enough to be twenty-sev—" She stopped, and a brief silence followed as she corrected, smiling sweetly. "Four, I am four years old."
Enlil blinked; he was five, yet somehow, standing beside Seyra made him feel like an infant who had wandered into an important meeting. Still, he gathered his courage and smiled.
"Would you like to play with us?"
Seyra patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"It’s all right, little one. You should play; this is the age when you should enjoy life."
Enlil’s smile slowly faded; the other children nearby stopped playing. Seyra continued with the solemn wisdom of someone who had already made several regrettable life choices.
"You should run around, eat sweets, and spend time with your friends. Don’t worry too much about anything. Life is already exhausting when you’re older."
. . .
. . .
The playroom fell silent.
Enlil stared at her, Captain Ishtar stared at her, and even the servant arranging the refreshments seemed to reconsider his understanding of childhood. Seyra, meanwhile, nodded to herself, satisfied that she had delivered some valuable life advice.
Enlil finally managed a small, uncertain smile.
"I... I see."
He did not see.
He was five years old, and the four-year-old girl in front of him had somehow made childhood sound like a precious resource he ought to enjoy before the burden of adulthood descended upon him.
Seyra gave his shoulder one final reassuring pat.
"Good boy."
Captain Ishtar turned away, her shoulders trembling; she had faced armed criminals without flinching, but watching a four-year-old behave like an elderly aunt dispensing life advice to a five-year-old was proving to be the greatest challenge of her military career.
***
[Meanwhile at the Imperial Council]
The Imperial Council Chamber had never been so quiet.
Beneath the vaulted ceiling, golden reliefs depicted the Twin Divine Dragons circling the sun. Massive cedar doors stood closed behind the assembled nobles, while bronze braziers burned along the sandstone walls, filling the chamber with the scent of incense.
Every noble house of Eshkaran had answered Malik’s summons, but no one dared speak.
At the head of the chamber, Malik Zayrakh Azrath sat upon the imperial throne, his amber eyes fixed upon the man standing before him.
Azram Vaerun Veyrath, his dark hair neatly arranged, his expression devoid of emotion, and his silver eyes held the same cold stillness that had earned him the name The Silent Tempest.
Beside him stood Captain Kharzen, holding a sealed dossier recovered during the investigation.
Vaerun had not summoned the council to request assistance; he had summoned it because the investigation was finished and what he had discovered was no ordinary crime.
"Azram Veyrath," Malik said. "You requested this extraordinary assembly; speak."
Vaerun inclined his head.
"There has been a lot of silent disturbance in the Empire, and today...I am here to discuss that."
A murmur passed through the chamber.
"It’s about the illegal experiments on children on the Aether core."
. . .
. . .
A deadly silence.
Malik furrowed, asking, "What do you mean the children were sold?"
"The investigation into the orphanage has confirmed that several children were transferred to private facilities in exchange for gold. The transactions were concealed beneath charitable donations and medical expenses. Some children were sold directly to individuals whose identities we have yet to establish, and...the orphanage did not act alone."
Vaerun continued, and his eyes were on every noble.
"The children were not merely sold for money. They were selected according to the strength and condition of their Aether Cores."
The murmuring stopped.
"Those with weak or undeveloped cores were considered suitable subjects. The records describe procedures intended to force their cores beyond their natural limits. Some children were exposed to concentrated elemental energy. Others were subjected to repeated awakenings until their bodies could no longer withstand the strain."
A noblewoman covered her mouth; one of the ministers lowered his gaze. Vaerun continued as though he were reading an ordinary inventory.
"Several children suffered severe injuries. Some records indicate that subjects who failed to respond to the procedures were classified as expendable."
The word settled over the chamber.
Expendable.
A five-year-old child, a seven-year-old child, and a child who had barely learned to read.
Expendable.
Malik’s fingers tightened around the armrest of his throne, and Vaerun continued, "What we initially believed to be an illegal experiment is something considerably worse."
. . .
. . .
GASP!!!!
"The recovered documents refer to this formation as the Aether Ascension Rite. It was designed to force the Aether Core into an unnatural state by binding multiple elemental forces through a ritual formation."
The high priest Nerath rose abruptly.
"That is impossible."
Vaerun looked at him, and Nerath continued, "Such a formation violates the fundamental laws governing elemental contracts. No human body could safely contain that much conflicting power."
"Precisely," Vaerun replied.
"The ritual requires a living vessel. The subjects were children whose Aether Cores had not fully matured. Their weakness was considered an advantage because their cores had not yet settled into a stable elemental pattern."
The high priest went pale.
"This is forbidden."
"Your observation is invaluable," Vaerun said dryly. "I shall ensure it is recorded in the report."
A few nobles lowered their heads, hiding their expressions.
Vaerun rested one hand upon the dossier.
"This was not medicine. It was not scholarly research. It was a dark ritual concealed beneath the appearance of legitimate elemental study...and someone within this empire financed it."
Malik rose.
The scrape of his throne against the stone platform seemed unnaturally loud, his golden ornaments shifted softly as he descended one step from the dais.
"Have they lost their minds?"
Nobody answered.
"An Aether Core is not a toy to be broken and reforged according to the whims of a wealthy fool. And a devil beast is not something one can command simply because one possesses enough gold."
His expression hardened as he looked around the chamber, taking in the faces of the empire’s most powerful families.
"So... under my rule, people dared to conspire such a thing." His voice rose, each word carrying farther than the last. "Looks like you all want my sword to be honored by their blood."
The crimson tiger roared in anger behind him as he awakened his elemental beast in anger.
Nobody moved, and Malik smiled, and the expression was more frightening than rage.
"How unfortunate. I had intended to spend this afternoon discussing matters of state. Instead, I find myself wondering which of my esteemed nobles has mistaken the imperial throne for a decorative piece of furniture."
His gaze settled upon the council table.
"Did you imagine that because I permitted you wealth, you had acquired power equal to mine? Did you believe that because I allowed your houses to prosper, you could decide which laws deserved obedience?"
He stopped before the table.
"Let me remind you, every title you possess exists beneath my crown. Every estate you command lies within my empire. Every privilege you enjoy can be taken away before the sun sets, and every head upon your shoulders is still attached by the mercy of the Malik."
Several nobles bowed so low that their foreheads nearly touched the table, but Malik was not finished.
"You conducted forbidden rituals upon children while invoking the sacred laws of Aether. You took those who possessed the least power and treated them as though their lives had no value."
His expression turned utterly cold.
"You did not merely violate the laws of this empire. You made a mockery of the authority that enforces them."
His amber gaze swept across the council chamber, lingering upon the nobles who could no longer hide their fear.
"But since you all wanted to honour my blade..." A cruel smile touched his lips. "I shall grant your wish."
He turned his head toward Vaerun.
"Azram Vaerun."
Vaerun raised his silver eyes.
"I shall leave this matter to you, Azram. You may kill or end any house implicated in this conspiracy. I permit you this."
The chamber fell deathly silent.
Several nobles went pale. One gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles whitened. Another looked toward the sealed doors, only to find imperial guards standing immovably before them.
The Malik had just placed their fate in the hands of the Silent Tempest and everyone in Eshkaran knew that Vaerun Veyrath was not a man who offered second chances to those who threatened what he had sworn to protect.
Vaerun smiled, It was neither warm nor amused. It was the quiet, merciless smile of a man who had finally been given permission to unleash the storm he had kept contained.
"That’s all I wanted to hear, Malik."
His silver eyes shifted toward the trembling nobles and the Silent Tempest had been given the authority to decide how many of them would live to see its end.