“You all die once. I die each time one of you dies, and that…that is hardly fair.”—Anarbis, Son of Xil, 7th Elder of Hewshia (2275)

  “Now, this is no place for a Grand General.”

  I hear a voice but cannot place it with my eyes closed, thoughts fuzzy, as I shift, still half asleep. Something hits me at the ankle, and my other leg jerks to hit the object away. Rash decision—intense pain shoots through my thigh. My eyes open, my hand reaching for the pistol. The man moves to the side, exposing the sun, and it burns my eyes. I wince, bringing my hand with the gun up to cover my face.

  How long was I out?

  I look around, finally coming to my senses as I recognize Azure. His full smile is displayed, staff in hand, the handle sparkling in the morning sun with different gems’ colors. He is wearing a white overcoat, blinding me, but my eyes adjust gradually.

  “My oh my,” Azure whispers. “Truly a sight for sore eyes—a man of dignity accepting the place of a dog. But what would that say of the owners, then?” He offers me his hand. “We didn’t even offer you a roof over your head…An oversight which must not be frequented!”

  “It seems not even compassion can elude you, Archon.” I chuckle and accept his hand. Pain burns through my leg as I struggle to get up, fingers wrapping around the wound. I exhale slowly as I shift my weight to the other leg and barely keep my balance. Shifting my gaze to the wound, I find it bandaged up, and memories of last night surge. The explosions…the death…

  “What, pray tell, possessed you to spend the night here?” Azure continues, still holding my hand, his grip tighter than I thought the man could muster. “Surely there are better ways and places.”

  “Must have fallen asleep while resting for five minutes.” I grab the branch of a tree I slept under. Looking around, I find the citadel’s debris cleared from view, nowhere to be seen. A hundred yards away, glassless windows and a missing front wall remind me of last night’s exploits. But a deep breath tingles the senses with ash residue in the air. “How are you feeling, Archon? I hear your residence got similar treatment.” I motion towards the citadel. “How is the missus?”

  Azure’s smile vanishes, his grip on the staff tightens, and his lips press into a fine line.

  “We shall whisper of that at an appropriate time,” he says after a pause. “After you’ve made yourself presentable and you’ve eaten.” He motions for me to follow him. “A man is not himself when his stomach is empty. And I dare say, I’m not myself.”

  Nodding, I try to take a step. My hand grabs the wound through the bandages as I try, forcing me to stop dead in my tracks. Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes.

  “Shall I order you to be carried?” Azure turns. “No shame and no judgment. After all, it seems you’ve fared far worse than I.”

  An Elite offers me his shoulder, and I gladly accept, limping towards the Archon.

  “Well…” Azure looks me up and down, his nose wrinkling, a finger on his lips. “New uniform.” He mutters under his breath. “Go. New uniform for the Grand General. Now.” He snaps his finger as he commands another Elite to do his bidding. “This is unsightly. Blood… Bandages… Grand General, this is not a battlefield.” Turning sharply, he walks towards the steps. “No. I won’t let anyone see my allies so shattered…” Hesitating, he stops. “Anguished. Ugh. Your attire…Words would escape a poet.”

  I laugh. “Seems a lowly Grand General would be the first to trip up-.”

  Azure’s finger nicks my nose, his eyes sparkling unhealthily. “I suggest not finishing that.”

  I nod, but don’t break eye contact.

  He smiles after a moment and hands me his staff. “Use it if you’d like. And may I dare hope a fresh uniform can be found within the Citadel?”

  “One, perhaps,” I answer.

  “Good. Wouldn’t want this amiable gentleman to exhaust his time working to locate it.” He waves the Elite on his way, who stopped in his tracks to witness our staring contest.

  We climb up the stone steps; someone has already cleared away all the blood around the citadel and did their best to clean up the shattered pebbles, but I still find some in the cracks of the pavement. My eyes wander towards where the dead lay during the night, and I find it empty. My heart skips a beat as images of their dismemberment surge. I consciously step over a spot where I remember a limb lay.

  I walk in zigzags, the closer we get to the citadel, to avoid any shattered or damaged stones, to ease the pain in my leg as much as possible. The Elite is practically carrying me, his hand around my waist, and I think he is a second away from sweeping me off my feet, so that I don’t fall too far behind the Archon.

  “What time is it?” I ask through gritted teeth as I take another step.

  Azure laughs. “Depends on whom you ask, General. Time is an illusion, and it appears so is our word, whereas our allies are concerned. It’s time to purge the hot heads within the Conclave circle…”

  “I meant it more like: do I have time to prepare a speech for the Conclave?” I whisper as we reach what once was the entrance to the citadel.

  “Ah, but of course!” Azure’s melodic voice fills the room, echoing off marble walls and floor. “It’s six. The rest should arrive within an hour. But I differ in how you should use your time—take a shower, eat, take five minutes of peace, for gods know you’ll wish you did in a day or so.” He motions to the hall on the left. “I trust you know the way. Regardless, all the way down the hall, take the steps down, and you’ll find a private bathroom on your right with a shower there.”

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  I decide against arguing, imagining how my face must look, with ash and sweat mixing throughout the night, not to mention perhaps some blood. Nodding respectfully, I head to the hall, only now noticing that all the plants were removed from the first half of the citadel. Damaged. I figure that to be the only logical explanation. On closer inspection, I find some walls damaged, but I also notice marks of repairs that must have started during the night.

  An Elite still half carries me, as I continue. Below, I find everything like Azure said, and more—inside one drawer in the bathroom, there are single-use toothbrushes, little packets of toothpaste, and combs. Inside other drawers are many hair products, face oils, lotions, and who knows what else. My gaze ultimately falls on the shower, but I decide against it. There isn’t enough time, and Azure will not be too happy if I skip breakfast. At the very least, ignoring the Archon would not be polite.

  A knock on the door.

  “Your uniform, General, sir.”

  “Come in,” I order, and the door swings open. Taking the uniform from the Elite, I thank him and let him proceed back to his usual duties.

  After washing my face and hands, I redress my bandages and put on the new uniform. Feeling refreshed and somewhat clean, I return to the citadel’s hall. Someone brought up a table and a couple of chairs while I was gone. A servant is finishing placing food. Azure had already made himself comfortable, drinking tea or coffee or whatever else members of his station drink. Seeing me, he smiles and motions for me to sit down.

  “Dare I apologize for such a poor display on the breakfast table?” Azure says, sipping his drink, “But you didn’t notify me you would sleep outside the citadel either.”

  “I wish for all our citizens to call this a poor display.” Sitting down, I scan the table. There are a multitude of pitchers with water, juices, and a couple of hot drinks. I pour myself a glass of orange juice, and half disappears instantly.

  “Pace yourself.” Azure laughs. “There’s food as well.” He gestures with his hand. There are at least three kinds of sausages, four distinctive breads, various cheeses, eggs in three different styles, and cookies.

  “Saving on butter?” I ask, without lifting my head.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  I feel Azure’s gaze, and as I look up, I find him twirling his hair.

  “Oh, quite a prankster, I see,” Azure grins. “If you prefer, I could call for a couple more alternative kinds of butter to satisfy your fancy.”

  “That’s all right. One is enough.” Laughing, I spread the butter on the bread and take some cheese. Thankfully, the rest of the breakfast is in complete silence. However, it doesn’t feel peaceful as I continue to look around, scanning the room. I suppose Azure takes that as a sign of nervousness as he continues to sip his drink, a smirk on his lips.

  Once done, Azure claps his hands twice, and three servants appear to clean up and move everything away, save for the table and the chairs.

  “Would you look at that!” Azure exclaims. “We made you look human and fed you with twenty remaining minutes.”

  I wish I could spend those minutes sipping orange juice in silence.

  “Either way, this is perfect,” Azure says as he scans the room and lowers his voice to a whisper—something I’ve never seen the man do.

  “There’s something we must discuss, and for the reason of time,” Azure changes his usual playful tone to a serious, almost chilling one. “We will drop our titles and speak without flair.”

  I bite my tongue from correcting that flair is his pony. Regardless, this sudden change takes me by surprise, and I lean in closer to him, listening carefully to every word.

  “I know you think today will give you some clarity on how to move forward, Varick, but that is not so,” Azure whispers. “No matter if we continue with Fraxon or declare war on them, this madness will last for months, if not years—gods have mercy.” He leans towards me, resting his chin on his palm. “Hewshia needs a leader. A powerful leader. Someone who will take action. After last night, I’ll rip Poltr a new one myself, if indeed it was him behind the attack…”

  His last sentence sounds almost like a threat towards me. My pulse picks up, and my hands shake below the table. There’s no way he knows. I tell myself that, but I don’t believe it.

  “The attack was too convenient.” Azure continues. “Something’s not right. No Archon is dead…”

  “Maybe they are trying to scare us,” I whisper. “Perhaps they want us to know they can reach us at our most intimate places? Showing us we are but small fish to them.”

  Azure studies me for a minute. “A dangerous politician you’d be.” He nods his head. “And that is exactly why I pick you as my ally in this. If gods deem it worthwhile to end Tel-Chaz’s life—I expect you, and your armies, to back me up in taking control.” He leans back in his chair, sipping his drink. “There’s a traitor, Varick. I know it.” He taps his finger on the table without breaking eye contact. “I can see it in your eyes that you think as much. But it appears we don’t have proof, and I fear it might be one of the Archons.”

  “Quite the accusation…” I murmur.

  “Kalidasa!” Azure exclaims and gets up. “I see you still wear gloom like a glove, and rightly so. I’ve heard the landing pad is shattered.”

  Turning around, I see him coming towards us with no haste. His footsteps are like a beat on the drum, deliberate and measured. Kalidasa wears his usual black boots, dark grey pants, and a black leather jacket.

  “Not a word about this,” Azure whispers to me, and steps towards Kalidasa. “I’m glad to see you alive and well.” He embraces him in a hug, but Kalidasa quickly pushes him away.

  “I suppose someone will not be,” Kalidasa says and turns my way, running his hand through his thick, black hair. “Grand General.”

  I bow slightly in respect. “Archon.”

  “If you continue to destroy ships at this rate, then I fear we will run out of metal.” His tone is sharp, matter-of-fact.

  “I have plenty to spare.” Azure pats him on the shoulder.

  “I imagine you’ll say the same about manpower.” Kalidasa sweeps Azure’s hand away. “I imagine you all think there’s a traitor. But be careful, Grand General. I wouldn’t put it past the likes of Azure to bomb others and himself, all in the name of gaining an upper hand.”

  Shifting my gaze to Azure, I find him smiling, hands folded.

  “It’s not like all Archons won’t benefit from the death of one. You are too willing to point fingers, seeing as my death might grant you my planet.” Azure turns and walks towards his throne. “But as you can see, I don’t point fingers.”

  “Grand General,” Kalidasa says, walking towards his spot.

  Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn to find Brian and Sinclair walking in. Tel-Chaz in the distance is being helped by an Elite. The rest of the Archons will be here shortly.

  I take a deep breath, trying to look as guilt-free as possible. Archons’ state of mind is where I need it, but it would be foolish if they sense weakness in me. I bow as Tel-Chaz passes me by.

  The time has come. The vote is about to begin.