EoS: PW --- Episode 02: Fazir Insuduron 6010/2/53

    He climbed the steps in a hurry, his mind spinning with worries and possibilities.  He trusted his informants to be accurate, but this news troubled him for multiple reasons.  It was only a matter of time before Lano fell, but falling to Rodanthia is far from ideal.  The man thought.  He passed many individuals on his way up the stairs, all of them stared at him, but he cared little for their opinions.  It was a rare sight to see him in the Empire’s castle, ascending the grand steps to the Empress’ chambers, but this was news that he had to share promptly.

    Fazir looked to his left and admired the spire around which the castle was built.  He remembered that there was a time in his life where he hunted down such objects for a, now, newly fallen country, but it had been nearly five years since his mind was swayed from such allegiances.  Still, he was in awe of its magnificence every time he saw it, and at the magnificence of others like it, but his mind was returned to the task at hand.
    Though each step he takes brings him closer to the royal chambers, he becomes increasingly uneasy.  For the time being, he is the de facto advisor to Sa'ida and Damarin until they find suitable replacements, so he stowed his feelings on the matter.  The Empress’ husband always made him anxious; there were many times in the past that he was unsure of his safety around the man, and just as many times where he felt at ease with him.  He was afraid to interrupt whatever activities in which the powerful pair might be engaging, but news of Lano was of the utmost importance.

    When he finally reached the impeccably carved doors to the chamber, he composed himself and straightened his robes before knocking.  A few loud raps on the wood echoed both beyond the doors and down the staircase, but it was soon that the door opened just enough for the man to enter.

    “I am not fond of house visits,”  the Empress states calmly, stroking her husband's face as he rests it upon her bosom.  The room was unseasonably warm, and Fazir breathed a silent sigh of relief.  A good day, then, or at least a calm one.
    “Forgive me, Sa'ida, but I received word from Ceccia as to the fate of Rodanthia’s siege on Lano," he says in the final throes of catching his breath.  “Lano has fallen.  It has been absorbed into the Rodanthian Empire.”  He lets the words hang in the air, but the Empress’ expression shows minor disdain not for the news, but the fact that he brought it to her.
    “This is hardly a surprise, Fazir.  In fact, we’ve had nearly four years of notice before such an eventuality.  Why are you addressing the issue as if it was an emergency?”  She asks, tapping the Emperor on the cheek so that they might re-situate themselves.
    “As I have stated before, Lano had many technological advancements and weapons of war within their possession.”
    “Yes, I recall that you were one of such instruments, and yet here you are, and what was once Lano’s vassal to our North has been Tjarstadia for five years.”  She smiles, and her husband begins to rub her back.
    “Your grace, if I may speak freely?”  He asks, with a shallow bow and cocked eyebrows.
    “Of course, Fazir, how many times must I tell you that your chivalries are wasted in my presence?”  Fazir nods and straightens his posture, doing his best to hide his own ill-received worry.
    “I was only in charge of a handful of engineering projects, most of them were in direct response to your soldiers at the time.  Bastelleria and Casalleleofi were the true hubs of Lanoan advancement, my group was far narrower in focus, and far from home when we conducted our work and research.”  Sa'ida sighs, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin atop her hand.  Is she bored?
    “Damarin and Casmir have a very close relationship,” she states with slight impatience.  “My relationship to the Rodanthians is…cordial, but we have already signed a treaty and our interpersonal communication has been improving since the fall of the Colletian Union.”
    “Can you not remember what the Salinogeres said?”  Fazir asks in defense.
    “Of course they will be paranoid and worried, Fazir.  Their borders are with Rodanthia.  Aquilina is no fool, though she is old-fashioned,” she states rolling her eyes in memory of the Maylen.  “She is right to worry for the safety of her queendom, but Casmir has proven himself to be an honorable man.  In 20 years, he has not broken a treaty or an alliance.”
    “That is not fair, Sa'ida!  He has never had to break such agreements!”  Fazir states.  Sa'ida is unperturbed, but her husband narrows his gaze in contemplation.

    “Tell me,” Damarin starts, “what would you have us do?  Rodanthia is on the other continent with no footholds on Prostor, even our trade with them is minimal.  From our standpoint, the fall of Lano only serves to better our interests as now we have more friendly coastline at which to dock," he states, crossing one leg over the other.  “At first glance, it would seem that you still have some loyalty to your old republic.”
    “Are you accusing me of something, your highness?”  Fazir asks with acidity.
    “Not at all, I only say as much to tell you how it looks at a glance.  You need to correct our assumption.”
    “Does he speak for you, Sa'ida?”
    “For now.”  She smirks, giving her husband a playful flick on his calf.
    “Rodanthia is hungry, your grace.  If the reports are true, and I am confident they are, then Rodanthia is a monster whose appetite is never sated.  How long before Casmir sets his eyes on this continent?”
    “He has no navy, and even if he did, Priezenene would halt him to the West of his continent, and both Geileria and Ohiyessa would halt him to the West of ours.  Of course, what I mean to say is that his navy is far from suitable to fare the seas at their true depths,”  she corrects herself.
    “And what if he did have such a fleet?  What if he was capable of such feats now that he has captured, potentially, the most technologically adept country in the world?”  He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his finger.
    “Then I would say that we are plenty safe, Fazir, for such a country lost to me, and lost to a group of tribal nomads on a peninsula with little support from the rest of the world.”
    “In the hypothetical scenario we are discussing, you wouldn’t be fighting with Lano a second time, you would be fighting with Rodanthia as they bolster their ships with Lanoan engineering!”  Fazir scoffs, hardly able to comprehend why he is faced with such resistance from the pair of rulers in front of him.
    “If Rodanthia could reach these shores,” Damarin starts, now bringing himself to a fully upright seated position, “then I would still show you no hesitancy toward them, Fazir.  I am not telling you that your worries are wrong, nor are they misplaced.  Sa'ida and I respect your opinion, but there is more at work here than Casmir blindly and ruthlessly trying to take over the world.  He is years away from being able to sail to our shores, and even if he did and if our treaty with him meant nothing, then our military would have had time to recover from the conflict with the recently felled country”  he states, his expression softening slightly.  Fazir closes his eyes and sighs, unsure how to proceed with the conversation knowing that it will go nowhere at this rate.  “Casmir is a friend to Ohiyessa and his lords do not have the courage, nor the manpower to question him.  Even if they did, The Demoness of Lake Vuaeokvaceak would surely dispense of disloyalty if Casmir didn’t first.”
    “How are the dealings with the spire, Fazir?”  Sa'ida interrupts, already frustrated with the conversation.  Fazir thanked his luck, unwilling to argue with neither her nor Damarin about the matter any further.
    “Stagnant since we retrieved the communication devices from it,” he says.  “May I sit?”  He points to a nearby chair and Sa'ida nods.  Damarin returns to his more comfortable position in the bed and resumes rubbing his wife’s lower back.  Fazir treads to the chair quickly and takes a seat, letting his arms rest on the arms of the chair before continuing.  “It would seem that the material which composes it is similar to some of the more exotic metals that are being refined in Roccostignia, which I remind you has Rodanthia as its new neighbor," he states.
    “I do not want to talk about Rodanthia any further,” Sa'ida begins softly, holding up a hand to halt Fazir, “besides, I would encourage Casmir to take it seeing as Roccostignia refuses to trade with all but four countries, one of which has expressed disdain for our existence, the other lies just South of our borders.  Perhaps further expansion would lead to our own gain.”  She raises an eyebrow.  Fazir sighs and cedes to her, swaying his hands as a show of compliance.
    “I am sorry to say that no more secrets beyond that have been revealed.  I have taken the liberty of consulting a few of my associates in Ceccia, sparing any specific details, of course; they are doing their best to cross-examine the spire here with the one that rests in the capital of Aehovimor.”
    “I trust your discretion regarding these matters when speaking to those outside of this room, Fazir," Sa'ida states a bit coldly.
    “Of course, your grace.  Alas, a scientist I may be, I am less effective at achieving your goals when doing so on my own,”  he replies with equal frigidity.  “I trust them with my life, but they are unaware of my location.  They still believe that I am a resident of Tjarstadia and studying the spire there independently.  It makes communication slow, but safely misleading.”
    “Good.  Until we know what the purpose of these relics were,” Sa'ida starts, looking into the direction of theirs as if staring through walls to inspect it, “it would be best to limit others’ knowledge to our possession of one.”  Her eyes return to Fazir, her tone shifting back to one of calm rather than annoyance.
    “Agreed,” he states.  “From what I recall in my days serving Lano, there are four in the world with a fifth likely lyings somewhere in Geilerian territories, but I cannot say for certain.”
    “Then let us retire for the evening, Fazir,” Sa'ida states, looking longingly toward her husband.  “We will continue this discourse at another time.  Damarin and I still have matters to address.”
    “As you wish, your grace,” Fazir replies, stifling his impatience with the situation.  The man stands and makes his way toward the exit through the lavishly adorned room, looking to the ceiling and asking the stars for aid.
    “Oh, and Fazir?”  Damarin beckons as the other man reaches the opposite end of the room.
    “Yes, your highness?”  Fazir turns his head, resting his hand upon the handle of the exit.
    “If you are still troubled by the news of Lano, I would recommend asking Casmir what his plans are directly.  The man is proud and bold; he rather enjoys talking about things with certainty as if they have already come to pass,”  He says with a smile.  The advisor nods to his emperor and exits the room, leaving the couple to continue their more intimate activities.  Of course he is bold, the man has an army the size of most countries, and his Vezier is a woman with capable allies.  Hell, their road network was established. . .  He cuts himself off before he spirals in his mind like the staircase he descends.  He looks to his right to admire the spire once more; its architecture always put his mind at ease while he inspected the intricacies of its weaving design.  From this height, he figures, it would probably take nearly 13 seconds or more for an object to fall from this height and reach its bottom.

 

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