Dragon's Archon - Epilogue - Alpha (Patreon)

Archon Emperor Emile Dupont III stood over his war table, examining the pieces on the board that spread over a map of Talis. His advisors surrounded it, waiting for him to begin the morning’s meeting.

“Steward, how are our food stores?” he asked.

Cristia rolled her hand through her raven black hair. “This year’s harvest bodes well. We have an increase in production of twenty-three percent, thanks to Viggo’s efforts. We’ll have more than double what we’ll need this year, especially if we continue with our plans. If we have one of our Court Sorcerers cast Suspension on them, they’ll last us until we’ll need them.”

“Excellent. General, how do our forces fare?”

Alex stepped forward, his full plate armor ringing throughout the room. “Well armed and motivated, Your Imperial Majesty. We’ve marched all of our forces to the north. We’ve set up encampments and fortifications that stretch from the Eiburun Mountains to the north in Eimalon territory to the Gredgewald Mountains to our west. Our supply lines are well established and secured. We’ve never been more prepared for Ossein Island’s assault.”

“And Eimalon?”

“The snow elves have reaffirmed they’re ready to take the brunt of the assault, just like decades past.”

“And do our spies confirm this?”

Hira pulled down her shroud, revealing her many rows of pointed teeth. “We do, Your Imperial Majesty. Eimalon forces have always been well armed. What they lack in numbers, they make up with armaments and magic. Lezariel’s Archons are leading their defenses.”

“Justice always prevails, does she not?” Emile muttered.

“If history repeats itself, yes.”

“Very well. Anything else of note?”

“T—that’s everything from my report, Your Imperial Majesty,” Alex said.

Emile frowned and looked up. He caught the hesitation in his son’s voice. He was lying.

“Something tells me that’s not everything.”

Mythias coughed in his fist and adjusted his priestly robe. “There was an incident, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Incident?” Emile asked, straightening.

“The new sect. The one founded by the heretical spawn of Abetha and Ninazu—”

“The one that shouldn’t exist by now as I told you and the general both to send a strong force to take care of? There was an incident with that?”

Alex and Mythias glared at each other before the Head Priest spoke again, “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. We sent a force of ten-foot soldiers led by one of my best inquisitors.”

“Ten?” Emile laughed as he shook his head. “You sent ten soldiers and an inquisitor to deal with an entire sect.”

“Well, Hira’s information had stated—”

“I don’t care what our intelligence said!” Emile shouted, slamming his hands on the table and shattering the wood. “I told you to send a strong force to take care of it. Am I so surrounded by incompetence that I need to be clear on what a strong force is?”

Mythias lowered his head. “No, father.”

“I am not your father right now! I am your Archon Emperor.”

“Apologies, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Alex puffed up his chest. “If you’d allowed me full control of the operation from the start—”

“Don’t you dare start with that petty childhood squabbling,” Emile said, raising his finger. “You two were supposed to work together. You both are responsible for this gigantic pile of trison shit that we’re now going to have to clean up. So get on with the rest of it. What happened?”

“When the squad failed to meet their scheduled report, I sent a force of a hundred men to investigate.”

“And a dozen inquisitors,” Mythias added.

“The original group had tracked the sect to an abandoned temple of Abetha. When our secondary forces arrived, they found all eleven men dead. They were torn to shreds, like they’d been locked inside with a wild animal. Whatever fought them was strong. Their bodies were cracked and hewn, left in small craters in thick stone.”

“There were also several bodies that looked like husks. They had been completely sapped of their essence. There were traces of Death Magic.”

“Anstartus, help me,” Emile said, rubbing his brow. “Then it stands to reason the sect has found their Archon, which is exactly why I wanted a strong force sent in the first place. If you both just sent the secondary group in the first place, all of this could have been avoided. Now we have a wild sect with a new Archon wreaking havoc in our lands. If any of the other sects or kingdoms find out about this, it’s going to make us look weak.”

Emile clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the room. They’d lost the element of surprise. He knew whoever the Archon was would likely hold a grudge as he would do the same. Time was against them. The longer they waited to strike, the more powerful the threat could become, and once it reached an inflection point, they would lose their advantage.

“Are our men still in pursuit?” Emile asked.

“They tracked them into a nearby forest and then the trail went cold,” Mythias said. “It could be a result of some kind of transportation magic. Flight. Teleportation. That kind of thing.”

“Great. So they could be anywhere in Talis right now.” Emile let out a heavy sigh before glancing up at his spymaster. “Spymaster send word to your flock. I want everyone on the lookout for this sect. That includes all of our informants and third parties. Pay them well so they take it seriously.”

“I will see it done, Your Imperial Majesty,” Hira said with a small nod. In a puff of smoke, she disappeared.

“General, Head Priest, I want three small elite teams composed of our best knights and inquisitors ready at a moment's notice. If Hira finds them before the Archon has a chance to mobilize a significant force, then I want them ready to kill him and their Head Priestess.” The Archon Emperor pointed his finger at both. “I’m giving you both a second chance. Don’t screw this up.”

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” both men said in unison. They marched together whispering insults as the enormous wooden doors closed behind them.

“Is there anything else for me, Your Imperial Majesty?” Cristia asked.

“Not at this time, darling,” Emile said, smiling at his favorite child. “Thank you for your hard work.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a brief bow. “Don’t forget that you have your meeting with Master Barrenheimer this afternoon to discuss the expansion of the south-eastern walls.

“That’s right. Thank you for the reminder. I’ll be there.”

“And I’ll be there to remind you just in case.”

“You’re a wonderful daughter, Cristia. Just like your mother.”

“I know,” the blonde-haired girl beamed. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“See you then.”

With no one else in the war room, Emile extended his hand in front of the shattered wood. He cast Repair and watched as the shrapnel returned to its original place and solidified. He pressed on the wood with his weight to ensure it was fixed. As he returned each of the little pieces to the board, a knock came from the door.

“Come in,” Emile shouted. When the door opened, the Archon Emperor glanced over his shoulder. His son, Viggo, stood idle wearing an all black ensemble with a brimmed hat and a white mask shaped like a beak.

Emile spun around, leaned back on the table, and scratched his horns. “It seems like when it rains, it pours. You’re not supposed to be here for another three months. Which means something either went really well or went really poorly.”

“It’s the latter,” Viggo said.

“Take that mask off. I can’t speak with you while you wear it.”

Viggo clasped the leather straps in the back. When he pulled it off, he revealed his acid burned face and filed down horns.

“I see you still have fixed your wounds.”

“It’s a constant reminder that mistakes have consequences.”

“That they do. I wish your siblings understood that. So tell me, why have you returned home?”

“Liberty Bay was destroyed along with my lab.”

“What?” Emile said, standing up. “How? Was it Nubia?”

“I believe the queen had some hand in it, given the sequence of events. However, a lone soul was responsible. He called himself Blackthorn.”

“Blackthorn? Like that old Chalice legend?”

“Yes.”

“But you think the queen was involved as well?”

“I can’t completely confirm, but I believe so.”

Emile leaned back. “Start from the beginning.”

“Several weeks ago, the queen’s daughter arrived, claiming to be on the run from her mother. Naturally, we thought this was a ploy, so we locked her away in our dungeon for a week. During that time, I, along with others, interrogated her extensively. I used one of my cocktails to derive the truth from her. And she maintained the story she arrived with. So either, she’s extremely capable and resistant to alchemical manipulation, or she was telling the truth.”

“Is that the same serum you used for the azeran spies?”

“It was.”

Emile rested his chin on his fist. “Hmm… then it should have worked.”

“Which is why we let her out. Lady Florence took a liking to her immediately. It benefited me because both Brick and Lady Florence had started to become curious about my lab. I needed the time as I was close to making a breakthrough on the Titan serum.”

“Which was the whole point of funding this escapade of yours.”

“That and the Phoenix Fire catalyst.”

“That’s nothing more than a failed experiment. The drug has proven nothing more than creating worthless inhabitants who become mindless drones. I wanted something that kept the people controlled but still have their wits about them.”

“Which will come through iterations. Alchemy is just as much an art as a science.”

Emile flicked his hand. “I’m not interested in getting into another prophetical debate with you. Just continue with what happened.”

“Lady Florence and the queen’s daughter devised a plan to blackmail Queen Sekhet. I was indifferent about the idea, but Lady Florence pushed hard to do it. I believe she saw greed and was jealous of the money Phoenix Fire brought in.”

“Why would you allow Lady Florence to dictate such a plan? You’re smarter than that.”

“Because I saw the clash with Queen Sekhet as inevitable. We were taking away from her business. We knew this and so did she. I’d received reports from Hira that she was building a dock in the martan channels. And it would have been months before it finished. I’d hoped to be further along with the Titan serum by that point to use the eventual conflict as a test with Brick’s forces against the queen’s army. A perfect opportunity, really. However, the Blackthorn arrived several weeks later. An unknown variable that caused a miscalculation on my part.”

“Where did he come from? From the north?”

“He arrived by tower. A Chalice member accompanied him.”

“Who?”

“I do not know. I’d never seen that tower before. But they’re the only ones with the teleportation towers.”

Emile snapped his fingers. “Who was the member that foretold the arrival of Blackthorn? Her name starts with an O I think.”

“Ophelia the Red.”

“That’s the one. Was it her?”

“Could be. I couldn’t confirm. I never saw her. I only interfaced with Blackthorn.”

“Continue.”

“Initially, he arrived under the pretense of coming to claim the main island for himself. He wanted to use that as a staging area for his kingdom. Lady Florence handled the negotiations while I observed. He was to build a lighthouse and help clear the forest for expansion. If he did those, we would negotiate further to allow him to carve out his own section.”

“Makes sense. But what doesn’t is how it went from that to him destroying the settlement in your lab?”

“To be honest, I’m not quite sure how it did, either. I watched him build part of the lighthouse and saw that he completed it upon my leave. But in between those two points, he burned our xyrol crops, killed all of Brick's men, and burned the settlement to the ground. When I returned a day later. He, Lady Florence, her people, and the queen’s daughter were all gone. My lab was destroyed due to the security measures put in place. So I ventured back home.”

Emile cocked his brow. “Do you think Lady Florence betrayed you?”

“No. She doesn’t possess the gall. Most likely, she was taken prisoner along with her women and the queen’s daughter.”

“So the man comes in, destroys everything, and we’re left with nothing. Please tell me this wasn’t just a waste of time and resources.”

“It wasn’t. It provided many breakthroughs.”

“Meaning?”

“In Blackthorn’s fight with the Butcher, the latter was wounded. I’d given him an experimental variant of the Titan serum and told him it was a health potion.”

“And? Did it work?”

“It did. The titan variant of the Butcher nearly destroyed Blackthorn in one-on-one combat. His strength could have rivaled your own.”

“That sounds promising. Were there any side effects?”

“Yes. He exhibited a lot of rapid mutation and he regressed mentally to more of that of a beast than man. But the data and tissue samples I gathered will prove invaluable to the next stage. With enough time, we’ll be one step closer to seeing our soldiers be the dominant force on Talis.”

“These projects of yours are a bane on the treasury. Your sister complains daily about the withdrawals and why I won’t tell her about them.”

“Progress never comes cheap.”

“But part of the purpose of Phoenix Fire is to allow you to become self-sustaining. I can’t keep funding

Viggo took a step forward, clenching his fist. “Before we started down this path, you agreed you would do whatever it takes to see this done.”

“But I require results!” Emile shouted. “So far you’ve given me nothing. Just empty promises of future advancement. I can’t keep funding your exploits with nothing to show of it.”

Viggo hesitated before reaching into his bag. He pulled out a sealed vial with a red mist inside. “If you need results then here.”

Emile tilted his head as I eyed the container. “What is it?”

“This is the first project you had me work on. I’m calling it Ninazu’s Breath. It’s an alchemical weapon. I’ve perfected the formula for airborne delivery. It spreads easily from person to person, starting out as a sneeze and cough. After five minutes it attacks the internal organs. By an hour it will liquify bones, skin, even teeth. I tested this on the nubian guards that came with the princess, and it worked flawlessly.”

“It’s funny how something so small could contain so much power,” Emile said with a slight grin. “With this we could spread it to Ossein Island and finally wipe out those fanatics once and for all. No more invasions. Can it be cured.”

Viggo reached into his bag and pulled out a second green vial. “This is the antidote. It must be administered within the first minute of contraction, otherwise the dose would be fatal.”

“If we use this, would Ossein Island become uninhabitable?”

“No, the alchemical structure is too weak to hold its bonds for too long. It will break down in about twenty four hours. I’d recommend having our flyers be the delivery method. They’ll have the best chance of survival if they climb enough altitude.”

“Can you make more?”

“Yes, but I will need another lab with all the equipment before.”

Emile smiled and rotated around the table. He grabbed an ink pen and parchment. After scribbling down his instructions, he sealed it with his symbol in wax.

“Hand this to Master Aemon,” the Archon King said. “It’s got instructions to give you what you need. I’ll cover the expenses like last time.” When Viggo reached for the letter, Emile pulled it back. “Just remember that I expect results.”

“And you shall have them, My Imperial Majesty,” Viggo said with a clenched jaw.

“Good,” Emile said, handing him the letter. His son snatched it from his hand and shoved the letter in his bag.

“Where am I to set up my new lab?” Viggo asked.

Emile shrugged with a smug smile. “It’s not my job to figure everything out for you. Figure it out yourself. Show me that you’re capable.

The alchemist secured his mask to his face before reaching for the door. When he gripped it, his father called him once more

“Viggo, before you go, you said that you observed this… Blackthorn,” Emile said. “What did you learn about him?”

Viggo sighed and turned around. “He wears a suit of all black full plate that exudes flame and smoke. I never saw his facial features so I do not know what race he is. His voice is deep and brooding. He exudes confidence and determination. Physically, I’d imagine he rivals you in strength. However, his magical arsenal seems limited.”

Emile cocked his brow. “How so?”

“From what I observed, he mostly relies on his strength rather than magic in combat which is typical for someone who is not a skilled caster. He can control liquid rock and metal which he used to build the lighthouse near Liberty Bay. It’s some of the strongest rock I’ve ever tested and would make excellent fortifications better than our own. But greater than anything else, he wields Death Magic, giving him the ability to control the dead.”

Emile’s eyes widened. “Did you say Death Magic?”

“Yes. He defeated the Titan variant of the Butcher by raising the men he slayed earlier. It distracted the Butcher long enough for him to deal a killing blow.”

Emile’s cackle slowly built to obnoxious laughter. When he calmed down he shook his head. “What are the chances… The gods truly have a sick sense of humor.” He glanced up at his son. “And you’re certain you have no idea where he went.”

“The tower was gone by the time I returned. He could be anywhere.”

“Very well. You can go.”

Once the door shut behind Viggo, Emile stared at his war table. His blood boiled knowing the same man they’d chased cost him months of planning and thousands of gold. The Archon Emperor gripped the table and lifted it overhead. With as much might as he could muster, Emile tossed it out of the window of his keep like a thrown javelin as he screamed. “Worthless idiots!”

As he watched it crash through a nearby roof. He took in a few deep breaths and padded down his jacket. He cast a Message spell as he said, “Hira. Return to me in the keep.”

A few seconds later, his daughter appeared in a puff of smoke. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty?”

“I want you to send your flock south to all the major cities. I also want them to fan out across the border around the Islands of Marta with a number headed for Nubia.”

“What’s the reason for this sudden change, Your Imperial Majesty?”

“I think our Archon has finally revealed himself.”