Whispers of a Dead Empire - Chapter 93

“So, what is this inauguration about?” I asked as I gazed across the river. The fog hung heavy in the air and coated everything in its ceaseless miasma.

“A hero has arisen once more, and with it, so will our empire.” His voice was as monotonous as ever, yet it held a twinge of pride.

“Who is this hero?” I tore my gaze away from the river, and towards Kharon. The two praetorians hung just behind him, blending into the fog that seemed to envelop everything.

His words were heavy and ominous and chilled me to the core.“ One of the greatest warriors to have ever lived. A man who is considered having no equal, and the paragon of what it means to be Asterian.” The ferryman’s words pierced through the fog and rang clearly in my ears.

So, the domain has a new boss then. That doesn’t bode well for anyone. In fact, the original bosses have yet to be defeated. I honestly feel like the domain was changing faster than we could keep up with. “Tell me about him.” I gazed out across the river and could hardly see the shapes of the dozens of adventurers on their own ships ahead of us. The fog devoured all but the outlines of their forms as they drifted across the river.

“He was a loyal tribune of the late Alexander. Now his service is to the Empress. His name is Octavian Varus.” The surrounding air grew heavy as if the mere mention of the man was enough for air to bow.

“I see. I look forward to meeting him then.” I kept my words short as I tried to process the information given to me. So, the new boss is a general of some sort. From what it seems, he was a man of high standing. But if he made a return, does that mean the Empress is a necromancer? I felt a sigh leave my lips as a headache slowly took residence in my head.

I strummed my fingers across the hull of the boat as I weighed the thousands of thoughts that seemed to overwhelm me. At least until I decided I would wait and see. I would judge the situation accordingly instead of just making assumptions. “Kharon, did the Empress raise Octavian from the dead?”

“One would assume that, but he came back on his own accord. His strength of will transcends even that of death itself.” His words struck another cord of fear within me.

For that made him no regular undead. No, that sounded like a revenant. A being who came back from the dead, driven mostly by revenge. Beings like that were never good news, even more so than necromancers, simply because they are almost unkillable, other than the sheer weakness to fire. In fact, one rose recently to kill an adulterer, and it took two whole adventurer squads to kill. I shuddered once more, as I thought back to that fateful day, as I watched the decrepit man tear through the town guard as if they were paper, seeking the cause of its wraith.

“Do we have to fear an imminent invasion then?” The trepidation coiled around my heart as the words slipped from my mouth. I was terrified, not just for my sake but for Calixa. Even though I worked my ass to make sure that this domain stayed safe, there were still many who were vying for its destruction. Like wolves circling their prey, they waited for a single slip up.

“No, I wouldn’t worry about it. Though I will warn you. Octavian isn’t the man who wants to expand Asteria’s borders. Instead, he will look inwards to restore Asteria to its former glory. While he is aware of the relationship that Asteria has with the outside world, he will not tolerate any harm that may come to the Empress, and he will retaliate if need be.” For a brief second, his words hung in the air before they fell away onto the soft gusts of wind that pushed past us.

“Worry not, lord Kharon; everyone is well aware of that rule, Though I will do my best to inform everyone of the consequences properly.” I clenched my teeth once I finished speaking and looked forward, balancing the myriad of thoughts at my disposal before I shrugged them away. It wouldn’t do me any good now to sit here and stress over it.

The words between us had ended, for now at least, as the boat glided across the river with practiced ease. In the distance, the docks slowly pushed through the fog, and the bustling bodies of dozens of adventurers could be seen as somewhere hopping off of ships while others were departing. I quickly glanced across them, uncaring at least until I came across the gaze of someone who looked to be no older than sixteen. His gaze looked to be far, as he stared away from us. It was a look that I knew all too well. He saw some things, and I felt for him. He was too young to be an adventurer, especially in a place like this.

“Redrick, the Empress, would like to see you, so please follow me.” Kharon’s voice tore me away from gazing at the child, and my focus quickly shifted away from the child, yet a tiny sliver of pity remained. I wish this world could be different.

A few hours later:

We walked quietly to the stronghold, which felt like it took longer than before to get to. It was as if the distance between the dock and here had stretched. Though it may be my memory failing me. The two zombies that stood at attention near the gate saw us and gave Kharon a bow before they pushed it open. The metal screeched as it ground against itself.

The fog had mostly dissipated since we arrived, revealing a clear sky. The sun roared definitely and against us, chasing off the chill of the morning air. Large clumps of white cotton grouped with each other and were busy on their journey across the sky.

All around us, the legion seemed to be in full swing, doing whatever it was they seemed to always be doing, but this time, they seemed even busier than before, along with an even more significant presence. A vast portion of them were busy tearing down the back section of the stronghold, while another part was busy laying the foundation for another wall that would almost triple the size of the stronghold. In front of that, it looked like they were in the middle of constructing a large building that would overlook the courtyard.

“Redrick, it’s good to see you again.” A feminine voice graced my ears, and I stiffened slightly.

“Empress,” I replied as I slowly turned around and saw her. She wore the same outfit as last time, with that strange mask that seemed to defy reality. Behind her, two paces away, were two spirits, with names shrouded in purple, with bits of orange that were starting to show through. Strapped to each of their backs were two spears and a single sword that lay on their hips. The one on the left was clearly a male who seemed to radiate a sense of nobility and serenity. On the right was a female, who regarded me with a stern face. My blood ran cold as I regarded the two new mobs. Unlike the others designated as subunits of a particular faction, these bore a single name. The Palatine Guard. I was staring at possibly two of the strongest mobs in the domain.

“I’m glad it’s you that came first. Would you mind trying some of the food?” She gestured for me to follow her as she walked toward the main building. The two palatines fell in a step right next to her, monitoring me. Their gazes were colder than ice, yet, just beneath the surface, was a fire that raged against a cage, just waiting to be released.

“I..uh..of course.” My words came out, jumbled together, as I tried to fight through the shock. She wanted me to try food? That was such an odd request and one that I didn’t think I would ever entertain.

“Don’t worry, I went to great lengths to ensure that none of the undead interacted with it.” The male palatine rushed up the steps, pushed his way past the two guards, and pressed the door open. The hinges squealed softly as the door swung open, revealing a lobby that seemed to be decorated for a party. A large red carpet lined the center of the floor, and on top of that sat a few tables clad in matching red velvet. On each table were various containers of different sizes that seemed to be composed of silver and were nestled in pairs, much like nesting dolls.

A small way, away from the main tables that held all the silver containers, were a few sets of circular tables. Each one had a white tablecloth draped across the surface. There were four plates set to each table, with a set of utensils set in a way that looked to be almost foreign to me.

“This is all so beautiful,” I murmured as I soaked in the regal air of what was once a bland hall.

“I’m glad you think so. I know a thing or two about hosting events.” Her voice was more akin to a chuckle as she spoke, and she walked over to one of the metal containers and pulled the lid off. Steam poured from the inner contents as if it were freshly made, and I was struck by a sweet smell.

I found my legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they brought me over to the food. I could feel the saliva building up as the smell constantly assaulted my nose. Before my eyes sat a dozen round pastry-like golden brown objects and were layered on top of each other. As I got closer to it, I could faintly smell butter, and a few other herbs that I couldn’t quite place. “What is this?”

“It’s a variation of Roman Gnocchi; I had to change a few things since I was lacking the ingredients.”

The strange words clung to my mind as I tried to repeat what I heard, yet my tongue couldn’t seem to imitate how the words were spoken. “What is it?” I kept my hand away from the food, knowing that my resolve was quickly starting to break.

“It’s a variant of pasta, made from potatoes. Do you want to try one?” She asked as she grabbed a fork next to the container, along with a small plate. She quickly grabbed one, layed it on the plate, and slid it over to me with deft hands. With a measured movement, I reached out, took the plate, and regarded the food. A part of my mind screamed at me to be wary of the food, yet the other part of me was desperate to see if it tasted as good as it smelt.