Trinity of Magic

After letting the crowd go wild for a time, the Emperor raised his hand, silencing them.

“Today,” he said into the renewed quiet, “we take the next step toward that goal. Today will become known as the day of the greatest change in our history since Arkanheim’s founding...”

Viola leaned forward, staring at the stage with eager anticipation. Her eyes were drawn to the Emperor’s lips, as if she could read the words from them before his voice reached her.

His lips curved into a gentle smile.

“Today, we will throw off the last shackles the continent has thrust upon us...”

He raised a single hand, and at the gesture, two people appeared on either side of him: a man and a woman.

The man was tall, almost unnaturally so, a fact only exaggerated by his extremely slender build. On closer inspection, Viola noticed the slight taper of his ears. He was not fully human.

The woman looked relatively unremarkable by comparison. There was nothing special about her height or appearance, aside from the faint greyish hue of her skin. She might have been called ordinary, if not for the fact that Viola recognized her.

She was Stella Eventide, the very woman who had turned traitor during the final battle of Rukia and nearly caused Zeke’s forces to crumble by destroying his flying fortress...

The Emperor allowed the crowd a moment to study the two figures before extending his hand toward the half-elven man.

“Aurelian Arden Rukia, eldest son of Rukia’s former queen.”

A murmur swept through the crowd.

Aurelian remained perfectly still. Only the faint tightening of his jaw betrayed any reaction to the name.

“Born first among his siblings. He inherited his mother’s power, her discipline, and her devotion to her people. Yet from the moment of his birth, the laws of his homeland decreed that he could never inherit her throne. Not because he lacked the talent. Not because he lacked the will. But because he was born a man in the lands of the elves.”

The Emperor lowered his hand before raising the other toward the woman.

“And Stella Eventide, illegitimate daughter of the King of Cosmoa.”

This time, the reaction was even stronger.

Viola’s expression twitched at the name.

Stella, on the other hand, showed no sign of discomfort. Her back remained straight, her chin held high as countless eyes settled on her.

“She inherited her father’s affinity and proved herself one of the most talented Space Mages of her generation. Yet the laws of Cosmoa forbade her from bearing her father’s name. The circumstances of her birth barred her from high society before she was old enough to speak, ensuring that no achievement of hers could ever erase the stain others had placed upon her.”

The Emperor’s gaze moved between the two of them.

“Two extraordinary Mages. Two talents their nations should have been proud to call their own. Yet both were denied the positions their abilities warranted because their homelands valued tradition above merit.”

He turned back toward the crowd.

“Arkanheim will not repeat their mistakes.”

His voice was not loud, but it carried across the plaza with perfect clarity.

“We do not care whether a person was born first or last. We do not care whether their blood is pure or mixed, whether their parents were married, or whether some ancient custom considers them worthy. In Arkanheim, privilege is not inherited.”

The Emperor spread his arms.

“It is earned.”

A deafening cheer answered him.

Even Viola felt something stir. A fierce sense of pride swelled in her chest, urging her to join the voices around her.

The words made sense.

More than that, they felt right.

Of course talent should matter more than birth. Of course a man should not be denied a throne merely because he was a man. Of course a daughter should not be condemned for the circumstances of her birth.

Why shouldn’t Arkanheim welcome people their own nations had cast aside?

Her hands had already begun to move before she caught herself.

Then her gaze returned to Stella.

The pride faltered.

Premeditated or not, this woman was a traitor who had stabbed her allies in the back during their time of greatest need.

What right did she have to stand onstage on an occasion like this?

Yet even as the thought formed, something inside Viola resisted it.

A strange warmth tried to smother her anger. It urged her to forgive. To understand. To admire the Emperor for giving Stella the opportunity no one else had.

Viola froze.

The haze and fever that had consumed her mind thinned for a moment. Not completely, but just enough for her to realize that her current state wasn’t natural.

What... what was going on?

She had been petrified earlier, only to cheer from the bottom of her heart the next instant. Now, even her doubts had nearly been swept away by a few carefully chosen words.

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This couldn’t be natural...

The Emperor continued.

“To this day, the continental community still holds undue sway over us.”

He raised his left hand.

“For one, the food they produce is a lifeline upon which we still depend, and a rope wound around our necks...”

Despite her doubts, Viola felt her earlier indignation return.

It surged hot and immediate, almost before she had finished processing his words.

But this time she noticed it.

She clung to that awareness, forcing herself to examine the feeling instead of simply surrendering to it.

The Emperor raised his other hand.

“...And then there is the Gate Network, a backdoor that grants the Mages Association unfettered access to our cities. For centuries, we have been forced to place our very lives in the hands of this foreign power for the sake of convenience. We have been forced to trust in their promise of neutrality, to trust them with our very lives.”

A moment of silence followed as the Emperor slowly lowered both hands, once more revealing the two people standing at his sides.

“Until now.”

At his words, the man and woman stepped forward. They took their places alongside the four patriarchs, one at either end of the line. Instead of four, there were now six figures kneeling before the Emperor.

“In the name of Augustus von Geistreich, First Emperor of Arkanheim, I ask you: Are you willing to take up the burdens that will be placed upon you? Are you willing to carry them with honor and pride, from this day until the last member of your houses perishes?”

“We are willing!”

Their voices sounded as one, making Viola wonder if they had practiced this beforehand.

The thought should have amused her.

Instead, she found herself admiring the solemnity of the scene.

Again.

A chill ran down her spine.

“Then let all who stand here bear witness.”

The Emperor pointed to the kneeling half-elf.

“Today, Arkanheim celebrates the founding of House Lebenshüter. I hereby appoint its first patriarch: Aurelian Arden Lebenshüter.”

Aurelian bowed his head even lower.

For the first time, a hint of emotion broke through his composed expression. His eyes closed for the briefest moment, and something in his face softened.

The Emperor’s attention shifted to Stella.

“And today, Arkanheim celebrates the founding of House Raumfalter. I hereby appoint its first patriarch: Stella Raumfalter.”

Stella bowed as well.

But unlike Aurelian, her expression did not soften. If anything, she seemed taller than before.

“From this day forward, Arkanheim will no longer have only four Great Houses, but six. One for each of the four elements, Fire, Wind, Earth, and Water, as well as the House of Space and the House of Life.”

His gaze settled on Stella.

“To House Raumfalter, I bestow the duty of upholding the Gate Network within Arkanheim. From this day forth, no foreign Mage shall ever again be allowed to control a beacon within our borders. Our cities and our soil shall be governed by us alone.”

The Emperor’s eyes locked onto the kneeling Stella Raumfalter, formerly known as Stella Eventide.

“Do you accept this duty?”

“I accept, Your Excellency!”

A roar of approval rose from the crowd.

Viola felt it again.

Satisfaction.

Not merely at the idea of removing the Association’s influence, but at Stella herself.

At seeing her rewarded.

No.

Viola dug her nails into her palms.

She would decide what she thought of Stella.

No one else.

The Emperor nodded before turning to the kneeling half-elf.

“To House Lebenshüter, I bestow the duty of feeding and tending to this nation. You shall have a branch in every village and every city. You shall tend to our crops, our livestock, and our citizens. You shall fill our stomachs and treat our wounds, never allowing a single citizen of our great nation to suffer any preventable harm.”

His voice hardened.

“Do you accept this duty?”

“I accept, Your Excellency!”

The response came without hesitation.

And once again, Viola felt the urge to cheer.

This time, she did not.

The Emperor swept his gaze across all six kneeling figures.

“Then rise, patriarchs of Arkanheim, and let your loyalty be heard!”

“Loyalty!” the two new patriarchs yelled in unison.

A heartbeat later, the original four joined their call.

“Loyalty!”

The word crashed across the plaza like thunder.

The Emperor nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. But it was quickly replaced by a far more severe expression as he turned to face the crowd.

“Today, we have dared to take two foreigners under our wing. Two talented Mages who were spurned by their homelands, but who will do much good here. However, you must all be aware that the continent will not look favorably upon us for this.”

He swept out a hand, as if gesturing toward an invisible foe.

“I will not make light of this, for it could affect your very lives. They will protest. They will threaten us. Perhaps they will even attack us for it.”

His gaze swept over the crowd.

“Therefore, I ask all of you: Do you dare to accept these two? Do you dare to give them a chance? Or shall we cast them out for fear of what others might say?”

“Never!”

The answer was immediate and completely unanimous.

Viola’s mouth opened with the rest.

She caught herself just before the word escaped.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Since when had she been so patriotic?

Since when had she been one to be riled up by words?

“Are you certain?” the Emperor asked, his voice filled with grave concern. “Doing so could once again plunge us into war when all we want is to live in peace. Are you still willing to stand by what is right, even when it might cost you?”

“We are willing!”

The plaza shook beneath the answer.

Viola bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.

Pain blossomed across her tongue.

She didn’t care about any of this. Or, at least, she hadn’t before today.

The Emperor’s severe expression slowly relaxed into a smile.

“Then let it be known that Arkanheim stands united, as it always has.”

His voice rose.

“We might draw the ire of every foreign king and queen on this continent. Their diplomats may come demanding explanations. Their armies may even follow.”

The plaza had gone completely silent.

“But we do not concern ourselves with their opinions.”

Augustus lifted his chin.

“For we are Arkanheim.”

A roar erupted.

“And we do not bend.”

The sound that answered him was almost deafening.

Viola closed her eyes.

The noise remained.

She plugged her ears.

The Emperor’s voice did not fade.

Not truly.

His words continued to echo through her mind as clearly as if he were standing beside her.

We do not bend.

We do not bend.

We do not bend.

She tried to think of Stella.

Of the betrayal.

Of Zeke.

Of anything that could anchor her.

But every memory twisted beneath the pressure.

Stella’s betrayal became understandable.

Arkanheim’s grievances became unforgivable.

No.

Viola squeezed her eyes shut harder.

No.

The harder she tried to resist, the deeper the feeling burrowed. It hadn’t been so noticeable while she was caught in its spell. But the moment she began to fight back, the pervasive nature of her strange state became impossible to ignore.

It was like a living, breathing thing inside her.

A vile sprout that had taken root in her mind, refusing to be dislodged until it had fully taken hold.

“Today, we once again declare our stance to the world,” the Emperor proclaimed over the feverish roar of the crowd.

“Arkanheim is a home for all.”

The words washed over her.

Warm.

Comforting.

Right.

“But we do not bend. We do not yield. And we never, ever allow others to dictate what we can and cannot do!”

“Arkanheim! Arkanheim! Arkanheim!”

Hundreds of thousands of voices merged into one.

Viola’s heart hammered against her ribs.

A part of her wanted nothing more than to join them.

To scream the name until her throat gave out.

To lose herself in the warmth filling her chest and stop fighting.

It would be so easy.

The Emperor allowed the chant to continue for a while before raising his hand.

Slowly, impossibly, the plaza fell silent.

Augustus swept his gaze across his people one final time.

“If you want peace... prepare for war.”

The crowd exploded.

With those final words, the Emperor turned and began walking back into the bowels of the palace beneath the thunderous applause.

Viola watched him leave, but her feelings could not have been more different from theirs.

She was already counting the seconds until he was finally gone.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

The Emperor disappeared into the darkness beneath the palace.

Viola waited.

All she could do was hope that the strange, intrusive feeling would vanish with him.

That the pride would fade.

That the warmth would disappear.

That her thoughts would become her own again.

Otherwise...

She didn’t know how much longer she could remain sane.