Cassandra Soryu is the seventeen-year-old daughter of the president of the Republic of Humanity, Vanessa Soryu. She only attended an academy for four years, until she was expelled for reasons that were never disclosed to the general public. Since then, she has done something that is quite strange for modern political families. She’s kept her private life private. The only time she’s been known to venture outside of the family castle is for violin lessons and the occasional concert she participates in. Cassandra very much enjoys playing the violin. She would not consider herself relatively good or talented in the slightest. Although she is dedicated to it.
Very dedicated.
“That’s a very bare-bones report, Father, but then again, we don’t have much to work off of, do we?”
“No, Adamus, we don’t, but we won’t allow predetermined factors to stand in our way.”
Adamus sets the written report down on the royal Bioship’s lavish working table. Adjusting the bracers on his forearms, he turns to his Father, questioning him, “You’re sure this is the right play? I know Davon’s news worried you, but it just seems too soon.”
“Well, Adamus, to tell you the truth, I’m not just worried,” Emperor Atheneum removes his hands from the Bioship controls, pushing his wooden-framed glasses against his temple while looking upon his son, “I’m scared out of my mind.” He cracks a smile. “Let’s just try not to show that, alright?”
President Vanessa Soryu walks through the halls of her castle at a pace brisk enough to put even her best soldiers to shame. Her white cape trimmed with edges of red velvet swallows the stone walls, fluttering at nothing more than her own movements. She adjusts her plain beret, the only decoration on it being a black tassel, which opposes the typical white and red garb of the Republic. The tassel intertwines with her long amber hair as she comes to a stop by the hangar door, where the head of her personal guard, General Loeb, is awaiting her. He takes his last huff of pipe weed, snuffing out the flame as Vanessa speaks, “I trust that my soldiers are on standby?” Loeb coughs, “Yes, Madam President, they’ve already spotted the Bioship’s approach.” Vanessa nods. “I already briefed the council before his arrival, but I didn’t have time to speak to my family. You haven’t already alerted them, perchance?”
“Your husband is waiting in the council chambers,” Loeb sighs, “Although Lady Cassandra still refuses to join us.” Vanessa huffs, placing her hands on the hangar door. “Typical of her, send another message, I’ll drag her out yet.” She pushes the door open. The sun shines through the clear blue sky onto the cobblestone runway. “Put on a happy face for our guests, everyone!”
Vanessa exclaims with a smile to the soldiers who line the runway, each holding the red flag of the republic. Beneath the feigned expression, a thought of reluctance begins to worm its way into Vanessa’s mind. I can’t be upset at Cassandra, after all, Gelmidas isn’t even here yet, and I already want to get this charade over with. There isn’t a single man I hate in the universe more than him.
The Bioship flexes into the hangar, landing on the runway in an elegant, gentle motion. Resting its fingers down the Bioship tilts itself upwards, slowly opening its own hangar door to reveal the Emperor and his son. Stepping out of the ship’s flesh, the duo approaches Vanessa with an aura of confident bravado which radiates off of their very skin. Both bow before Vanessa, yet only Gelmidas addresses her, “Madam President.”
The pair rise. Gelmidas shifts into a more casual demeanor, patting Vanessa on the shoulder. “Congratulations on your third term, by the way. You know what they say, third time's the charm!” He said it with a smile, Vanessa thinks, he insults me while smiling behind flawless, straight, white teeth. The man is a caricature. Laughing, Vanessa subtly pulls Gelmidas’s hand off her person. “Well, clearly my people favor leaders that are as stern as us.” Gelmidas hides his teeth, changing into an impressed smirk. She delivers a backhanded insult toward my own people while complimenting me to ease tensions, buying into the persona of narcissism I’ve built for myself. Impressive, he allows himself to admire this woman for one moment, before remembering how dangerous she is. “Yes, humanity values strength after all.”
Vanessa hides an emerging scowl beneath a quivering smile. How dare he! Her mind echoes How dare he! He refers to our peoples in a unified fashion and spits on my lack of participation in the war in a single sentence. I wish I could strangle him here! I must divert the subject. “Is that a new Bioship model?” Gelmidas looks back at the Bioship, his blue suit jacket shifts loose on his wide shoulders, “Oh yes!” What is she playing at? He thinks, readjusting his suit jacket, tie, and shoulder pads before finally touching his plastic crown. “Very impressive, I’m sure it will improve trade.” So that’s it. Her statement has led him to the revelation. She does want unification, very good. Perhaps making my proposal will be easier than I anticipated.
Adamus slipped past Vanessa and his Father after he delivered his bow. Watching their conversation from the doorway, he can’t help but feel an odd sense of pride. He has no desire to pursue politics and honestly couldn’t care less about the subject. Yet he admires the Division and his Father most of all. The curls of his brown hair strike against his eyes in the wind. He moves his hand up to fix them, only to quickly tuck his arm back into his sleeve. He keeps his arms crossed and his hands hidden. A dangerous and harmful presence hides within his arms. A violence that of which he does not entirely comprehend. All he knows is that the presence keeps him alive, repelling a death that would devour him otherwise. A beast lives within Adamus Atheneum’s body. A terrible, powerful thing that can only be known in the gladiator arena and must remain hidden everywhere else. He adjusts his arm bracers again. Crossing his forearms, he smiles once Vanessa and Gelmidas approach the doorway.
“Adamus,” Vanessa begins to greet him while his Father clenches his fists, thinking to himself Be very careful with your next words. “You’ve grown.” Gelmidas holds back laughter. Such hesitation, and she went with the safest statement of all! Adamus chuckles, “Why yes. I actually came of age last year.” Vanessa is suddenly reminded of Cassandra, who will soon be an adult as well. She doubts Cassandra will be a functional one, but she will be an adult nonetheless. The balance of the universe is indeed shifting. Humanity grows older with each passing second. “I would have loved to see the ceremony.” Hopefully, that was another safe response. Vanessa thinks as soon as the words leave her mouth. “It was quite a grand one,” Adamus chimes, the joy of the memory intertwined with his voice. Sensing the emotion, Vanessa nods, now knowing that she chose the correct option, “I’m sure it was.” She says, doing her best to hide her contempt. She turns back to Gelmidas. “Shall we?” He beckons toward the open door. Vanessa walks through it, leading the way, “Yes, yes, we shall.”
Vanessa leads the Emperor of the Division into her own home, her own planet. It gets easier every time she does so. Every time must be easier. At least her family will be there, but then again, so will his. All one of his.
The council chambers thunder with applause at Vanessa and Gelmidas’s entrance. They worship their leaders like gods. That’s the one thing Vanessa and Gelmidas can both agree on: that they deserve admiration. The pair sits at the center of the chamber, a circular arena-like construction. The only decor is two extravagant chairs, each adorned with their people’s colors. Adamus stands firmly outside the circle, while his Father and Vanessa continue their showboating.
The left side of the crowd is comprised of Republic citizens who have traveled from all sides of the planet to watch what they assume will be another peace talk, which will place the reckless Emperor Atheneum back in his place and keep the tides of war at bay.
The right side of the crowd is comprised of Division citizens who have traveled all the way from their home planets to watch what they assume will be another peace talk to keep the danger of the Republic at bay, along with the cowardly and corrupt President Soryu.
Gelmidas takes a seat. The Republic has no idea what is about to happen. He thinks, staring at Vanessa, who thinks of ways to aim Gelmidas toward her own goals. The Sympathy plea will work. I’m sure of it. She repeats the phrase in her head several times, looking into the crowd to see her husband seated up in the banisters. Cassandra is still absent. Vanessa hides her disappointment, moving on to the task at hand. She clears her throat before speaking, “The Republic welcomes Emperor Gelmidas Atheneum today to represent his political party, the Division of Humanity, for our twelfth annual peace talk marking the ceasefire caused by the spread of the Rusting. Does the representative have any opening remarks before we move on to the discussion topics?”
Gelmidas holds onto the silence for a full moment, letting the crowd and Vanessa wonder what he could possibly have to say. Little do they know that he already memorized each line of his speech yesterday. Little do they know that he has anticipated every question Vanessa will have. Little do they know. How very little they do know.
Gelmidas leans forward in his chair, clasping his hands. “Are you familiar with the planet of Terra-gilma?”
“Yes.” Vanessa responds, “It’s a former marine planet which was mutated by the nuclear bombardments of the first galactic war thousands of years ago. During the half-century war between our governments, we exiled our war criminals there.” They’ll find my knowledge impressive, Vanessa thinks, but how is Terra-gilma relevant to this meeting?
“A member of my former Warbound, the renowned General Orson, was sent there to overthrow the leader of an organized crime faction that has been threatening me. The thing is, this was a full week ago, and Orson still hasn’t returned, and that leader I spoke of is dead as well. I recently received information which confirms that Orson and his crew were killed,” Gelmidas chokes, hesitating. He holds back panic. You don’t even have to say her real name, he reminds himself. You don’t even have to say her real name. “Killed by the Scorched Archer, who escaped the planet.”
Both sides of the crowd roar with surprise, turning to each other to trade horror stories of the woman whose arrows burned like fire that pierced the cosmos. Vanessa’s jaw drops in shock.
“I thought that-” she begins, only for Gelmidas to cut her off, “I believed her dead as well.” He lies through his teeth, unclasping his hands to sit back in his chair. Vanessa notes the subtlety. His body language is betraying him; he isn’t just worried, he’s anxious? No, that’s not the right word for this; it's as if he’s sentimental, saddened. He regrets something. But what? “And you’re certain she’s alive?” she asks.
Gelmidas sighs, gazing upon his son, who beams with admiration for him. Gelmidas regains his composure and turns to Vanessa, “She’s the most dangerous human alive; only the Elf of Death rivals her in infamy. She no doubt seeks to kill us both. She won’t rest until she accomplishes her mission, and she’ll tear through the whole universe to accomplish it. Madam President,” he cautions, leaning forward again, this time fully engaged and focused on Vanessa as he makes his proposal, “We are both old. Our ideas and beliefs come from a different time. Times are changing, and leadership must change with them. It’s time for the next generation to take charge. We must unite humanity under a joint leadership.”
The crowd erupts once more in disbelief. Vanessa is equally as surprised, but her intrigue wins over. “How do you propose this leadership will operate, and who exactly will lead it?”
Before Gelmidas can respond, the crowd ignites with murmurous whispers, which lead Vanessa’s eyes upward to the banister. An unkempt young woman, nearly inhuman in her disheveled appearance, overlooks the council below. She nervously adjusts her royal garb as her unwashed black hair envelops her body. She tugs on it, noticing the eyes of the crowd are now trained on her. Rubbing her hands against her dark eye bags, she retreats into shadow, her heart pulsing with anxiety. Gelmidas smirks, staring at Cassandra along with the rest of the crowd. “Your daughter will be of wedding age in only a few weeks, correct? Of course, my son has already had his own coming-of-age ceremony. A marriage would be the ultimate symbol of unification, would it not?”
Vanessa stands up and shakes her head at Gelmidas. “Yes, Emperor Atheneum. My daughter shall be married after she comes of age, and a new era of peace will begin for humanity, if only to secure its legacy in the face of a mad woman.”
The crowd cries out for the final time. A satisfied expression takes Gelmidas’s face. “Very good. It shall be done.”
And with that sentence, the discussion moves on to topics of trade, industry, and other various economics; however, they carry little weight when compared to what has just been decided. Vanessa has fallen right into Gelmidas’s trap. The instant the marriage goes through, the Republic and the Division won’t just be united under a joint leadership. The Republic will be directly absorbed into the Division. Gelmidas doesn’t even have to dispose of Vanessa. The woman will burn out with time, just like her Republic. Its ideology will crumble under the weight of the Division. Gelmidas won’t control both governments because only one government will exist. His. A new chapter in human history has been written today, and Gelmidas’s name will be the first word.
Once the council is adjourned, Gelmidas reunites with Adamus in the guest chambers, which have been fashioned specifically to suit the Division’s tastes. However, the Division is already very pleased this day. “Well done, Father.” Adamus gives the compliment with a hug. Gelmidas pats his son’s back, releasing the embrace. “Thank you, Adamus. For a moment there, I was worried Vanessa was going to reject our proposition.”
“Really? In my experience, women like her are beautiful but stupid. They always take the bait,” Adamus states with a smile as Davon enters the room through a portal. “Davon.” Gelmidas addresses his messenger with a hint of resentment in his voice. The portal fizzles out behind Davon, fading away as if it was never there. “At your service, my Emperor,” Davon says with a tone equal to Gelmidas’s own.
“The debate went well, Davon,” Adamus enthusiastically states, “The marriage will take place in just a few weeks, and we informed the Republic about the Scorched Archer’s escape.” Davon nods, shooting Adamus a proud smile. “Very good, Adamus, I trust you will play your role nicely,” he then flatly cautions Gelmidas, “Speaking of the Scorched Archer… I’ve begun the hunt for her. I understand wanting to keep the focus on the marriage, but I’ll need a larger force to-” Gelmidas interrupts, “Trust me, Davon, such a force will not be necessary. Most of the universe already wants her dead anyway.” Davon scowls, “Do you mind if I speak to your Father privately, Adamus?” Adamus is taken aback by the request. “Sure.” He says politely, yet confused. Stepping through the guest room doors, he looks back at Davon and his Father before moving into the hall.
“You need to tell him,” Davon states assertively, “Now that she’s free, you absolutely need to tell-” Gelmidas stops Davon, raising a hand, “We’ve been through this, Davon. I am never going to tell him. That’s what I told you then, and that’s what I’m telling you now.” Davon snaps back, “He’ll find out eventually, you know, whether it’s when she comes to kill you or when her body winds up on your doorstep. He’ll see the burns on her skin, and then he’ll look at the burns on his, and he’ll know, Gelmidas. He will know!” Gelmidas motions for Davon to lower his voice. “We are already hiding so much, Davon, what is one more secret?”
“One more secret?” Davon chuckles in sheer disbelief. “What’s the harm in telling your own son who his mother is, Gelmidas? He already worships the ground you walk on. He’ll understand your actions, believe me.” Gelmidas steps away from Davon. Nostalgia creeps over him, “No. He’ll never understand, Davon. I’ll never tell him, I can’t. Trust me, old friend, it’s better this way.”
Davon sighs, “Nadeden can’t be saved. She doesn’t deserve it, you know this.”
Gelmidas somberly replies, “You’re right. But she does deserve our sympathy.”