The Ministry of Finance, Erus
Sixteen hours after the incident
Four men, varying from middle-aged to elderly, sat quietly in the office of the High Minister of Finance, Archibald Vaulk, with their gazes directed towards the wonderfully polished screen of the room's 60-inch television, which was displaying a news report by the Royal Broadcasting Network on the predicted effect the refinery fire would have on the nation.
"Workers at the Ascended Legion Oil Terminal in Port Prince today received possibly their last ever shipment of barrels from the Spinneli Refinery in the Allied Nations. The shipment was already en route when news of an inferno tearing through the vital structure began to surface. Though the crown has expressed major concern over the loss of the refinery to the Allied government, it has of yet not presented a solution to the current crisis. Petrol prices are expected to rise in the coming months, making the lives of motorists slightly more difficult whilst potentially affecting public transport services. The government, meanwhile, will attempt to search for other ways to top up its stock and prevent a crippling shortage."
One of the older men picked up the remote control, digging his finger onto the power button and turning the television off, catching the attention of the other three men. "So, gents. What are we looking at?"
The youngest in the room, a man in his very late thirties at least, spoke up. "We have enough oil to last the current population exactly three months, High Minister. Though, with the recent spike in demand, some of our richer citizens are attempting to hoard and store the oil, should the worst case scenario occur."
"So, we have much less time than we think we do."
"Precisely, sir."
Vaulk turned to the other two men, leaning on the table and rubbing the tiredness from his half-open eyes. "I want lists of all major public road transportation networks and their expenditure, how many people that use them a day and how many litres it takes to fuel them for those days..."
The other two men began jotting down the High Minister's orders on already-prepared notebooks. As a former economic researcher at the Claus Folcwalding Institute under the previous king, Vaulk had a dire habit of wanting to be informed on the ripples of every financial decision.
"...I want to know how many barrels are left at Ascended Legion and the other oil depots around the country, see how many we'd be prepared to divert to the military in the event of a war without crippling public services, how many we can spare for the aristocracy alone and how many are left in the Royal Reserve. I also want the names of every company with investments in the oil industry; Salian and Co., Adler Petroleum, Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping, we need to know how this will affect the private sector in the time we have. I want all of this information ready and presentable for the First Minister by the end of the week so that he discuss it with the King."
Vaulk turned back to his younger adviser, the flare of focus in his eyes. "Get on the line to the Ministry of Relations... No, belay that, go there in person and bring me back their reports that describe how our neighbors are faring. The faster we can react to this, the slower the damage to the country will be until we can secure oil supplies from another source. Clear?"
"Yes, High Minister." replied all three men, in varying tones and volumes. The three men jumped up from their seats and shuffled out of the High Minister's office, leaving Archibald to rock back and forth in his armchair slowly, deep in thought and brooding with impatience. Vaulk knew that even if he had the information to the First Minister at light speed, he would still have to wait until the King's speech at the next meeting in the Chambers of State to see what stance the crown would take on the issue. All he could do now was wait and hope that, if everything went south, the King wouldn't choose him to be put, literally, on the firing line.
Harrow Military College, Sarston
"...I declare that I will serve, obey and bear true and unwavering allegiance to His Majesty King Reginald the Second, his heirs and successors and that I will, in duty bound, defend His Majesty, his heirs and successors, his territories and possessions..."
These were the words being spoken by a large group of new recruits ready to serve their five years of compulsory military service. Lance Corporal Francis Evers and Lieutenant-Technician Aldert Beullen presided over the new inductees as they spoke the final passage of words which bound the next phase of their life in service to the crown in a synchronized declaration. The two were stood among a line of officers that far outranked them, Buellen and Evers were only present because they had been chosen to represent their positions for this particular attestation.
"...I will dedicate, from this moment, five years of uninterrupted service, in protection and loyalty, to His Majesty King Reginald the Second, his heirs and successors. Long live the King."
There was a moment of silence around the academy's inner hall. A commander stepped forward from the line of officers, with the new recruits, who had already undergone basic ceremonial training, raising their hands to their foreheads to salute him. Evers spotted one or two newcomers momentarily panic and salute with their wrong hand before realizing their mistake and hastily switching over. He smiled internally, thinking back to his first days as a trainee.
"Baron Company! Ho!" The recruits quickly stood to attention, primed and ready for what came next. The commander then turned to Beullen and Evers' line. "Officers! Ho!"
Buellen, Evers and the other officers, with timeless precision, assumed the same position as the recruits. The commander turned back towards the crowd and waited patiently whilst another moment of silence enveloped the hall. Suddenly, the entrance doors flung open, giving way for a group of admirals and air marshals who casually strolled into the hall with the Elector-Margrave as their lead. The commander, ever adamant to impress his superiors, marched passed the new recruits, who were unaware of the identities of the men behind them, to meet the entourage.
Evers leaned over subtly towards Buellen and whispered, somewhat confused. "What's the E.M. doing here?"
"The King's speech. Major Geelen received a message thirty minutes before the attestation that the E.M. and some of his top brass wanted to watch it alongside the new troops." replied Beullen, continuing to stare straight ahead.
"Probably to put the fear of God in them." Evers retorted.
The commander, the Elector-Margrave and the other high-ranking officers moved to the front of the hall, passed the line of officers and out of Buellen and Evers' line of sight. Some of the recruits, upon seeing Ridley, seemed to shake, perhaps in fear, awe, or both, but retained their posture.
"Baron Company! Stand at ease!" shouted the commander. The recruits relaxed, letting the tension in their bodies vanish, though some were still apprehensive being in the presence of such influential military figures. The commander soon turned his orders to the officers. "Officers! About face!"
Buellen and Evers spun on their feet, making a successful one hundred and eighty degrees turn to come face to face with a large television screen. "Officers! Stand at ease!"
Almost as soon as the order to stand easy was given, the television flicked on, presenting the hall of the Harrow Academy with the intimidating image of the man that Baron Company had just sworn away five years of their life to...
Chambers of State, Erus
Reginald stood in front of the camera that was broadcasting his face across the nation, fixing the lens with his stern glare. The Chambers' staff and government ministers had vacated the entire room, instead watching the speech on various televisions throughout the building. With only the production crew operating the camera equipment in his presence, Reginald breathed in, preparing to explain the situation to his kingdom.
"Good afternoon to all of my subjects. The purpose of today's speech is to outline the plan the crown intends to put into action concerning the recent oil shortage. As you all may or may not know, the nation has been forced to rely on our reserve supply after a devastating fire engulfed the Spinneli Refinery in the Allied Nations. I will not bore you all with the copious details, but the main effect that you will encounter in your lives will most likely be a simple increase in the prices of petrol and diesel."
The King stopped momentarily to adjust his tie and sip from a nearby glass of water, clearing his throat. "As a result of the shortage, the armed forces will have priority for all military vehicles over the ordinary citizenry. Defence is one of the staples of our society and, as your protector, I will not leave our borders open to opportunistic political strongmen with something to prove. I have bid the Ministry of Relations to open appropriate channels with our neighbours, with the aim of securing deals that will plug the hole left by the Spinneli inferno. I have also given my blessing to the Ministry of Enforcement to deploy deterrent officers to Aemen's oil depots. This is to ensure that greed does not divide us during a time when we should stand together and to maximise the length at which we can keep public and private transport operational. Theft of national resources in a period of crisis will not be tolerated."
Reginald paused, letting the last words of his speech linger and sink in to the minds of whoever was watching. After letting an appropriate amount of time pass, the King relaxed his stance slightly, still exuding an authoritarian aura but with noticeably less intensity. "Ordinarily, Aemen would be able to sustain itself on oil reserves for three months alone. However, we have found temporary relief within our newfound ally, Achesia, who has agreed to help stretch out the amount of time we have until our reserves become entirely depleted. I am grateful to the Achesian monarchy for their aid until a more permanent solution can be found. On the subject of Achesia, I believe that Aemen may have a permanent and influential partner with which to do business with. As such, I will be making another announcement at a more appropriate time which I hope will bring our two nations closer together. For those who are slaves to detail, the Ministry of Information will publish a report describing all of the actions being put into motion pertaining to the oil crisis within the next week. I expect more decisions from my ministers in the coming days as both they and I will search tirelessly for the best solution. I wish you a good afternoon and thank you for listening to the words of your king."
Tower of Ascendancy, Imperium City, Imperium, Realm of Achesia
In his right hand was a pomegranate, in his left an ewer. His eyes bore upon me, his presence surrounding me and squeezing me. The oak under which I sat began to fracture as he consumed the space in which it occupied. Without words he commanded I listen to his edict, I dare not squirm from his grip less he fracture me as the tree. I gazed obediently as he poured out the ewer over the roots of the tree, a black tar dripped to the ground and as it lathered the wood fire burst from its void. The whole tree in which I was under began to flame, but as I thought the inferno would consume me, he squeezed the pomegranate so the juices might dash the fire. As they did the fire receded...
Mid afternoon, the Ackular would be taking his coffee now. Solomon was a servant to the monarch and typically served the Ackular his coffee this time of day, black with a dash of salt. He draped a towel over his arm and picked up the fine porcelain laced with etchings of violet and gold. He steadied his arm as to not drop the hot liquid over the stone floor as he made the trip into the Ackular's chamber. From the side of the chamber he would enter, it was just a small entry way for the servants to go back and fourth from the kitchens.
Solomon entered quietly, the Ackular often did not want loud disturbances at this time, just a quick placement of the coffee on his large oak desk and back through the servants door. Today instead of pouring over papers and reports the Ackular instead was standing in front of the large painting behind his desk. It pictured an oak tree against the yellow sky. He seemed enamored by the mural which stood as large as the wall in the huge airy chamber.
"Your majesty, your coffee." He whispered as he set the china down on the desk. The Ackular did not move, strangely nor acknowledge his presence. Curious Solomon stole a glance at his majesty and too his horror found his eyes black as the nights sky, pupils lost in the void, with blood dropping from his ducts.
"Your Majesty?! Guards, call for the physician!" He yelled, terrified as his leader stood fixed. He tried to grab the Ackular, lay him on the ground, do something to keep his condition stable but he would not budge. Suddenly the main doors to the chamber opened and Solomon quickly looked to see who had come to the rescue. Before him however stood the Arch-Praetor, the head of the Archari Gregian, his black and gold robes flowed over the stone floor and his hands resting together before him.
"Your Eminence! We must get the Ackular to a doctor, his eyes, they are black and bleeding!" He hustled towards the older man, hoping to find relief in his wise presence.
"Be still child, for it is a glorious sign of the Summer God's love." The Arch-Praetor smiled. He took the servant gently by the arm and lead him to the mural of the tree. "You see the vista." He motioned his arm.
"Yes, it changes almost every week. Last week the painting was of an empty and dark ally."
"Far from having a keen taste in the arts, the Ackular requires more of these canvases. They are his window to meet with the Summer God." He began to lead the servant back towards the main chamber door. "The Dread Lord communicates to his majesty in visions that take place within these paintings. It is a most holy and glorious thing, good tidings I suspect shall come to the Realm in this vision."
"I see." Solomon remained unsure, and confused of that he has witnessed. "I'm not sure I understand though."
"Your not meant to." The Arch-Praetor spoke bluntly as he pressed a bayonet into Solomons stomach, Solomon hunched as the thick metal lurched through his abdomen. The elder man struggled to lower the servant to the ground as the blood poured over his robes. "I am sorry my child, but the Dread Lord commands the secret nature of his communication with the mortal realm." The Arch-Praetor stroked Solomon's cheek as he breathed his last gulp of air. "Sad is a wasted life." Bastian Kuno had been a layman for his entire adult life, and killing a man in the name of the Summer God was no easier as time went by, but it was necessary.
Kuno turned towards where the Aukular still stood unmoved during the whole ordeal. He knelt, arms held open and gaze to the ceiling as he meditated on the glory of the Dread Lord.
It was several minutes before the Aukular came back to the living world, and with a loud heave he breathed the air of this plain. Julian VII turned and drew breath in again. His face rested with ease as he faced the Arch-Praetor.
"I hope the Dread Lord has sent tidings of blessings to the Realm your majesty." He said eyes still fixed on the sky.
"He did indeed." The Ackular tilted his head in curiosity as he looked upon the body bleeding on the floor of his chambers. "Its time for the Realm to re-enter the Septentrion fold."
The Kuno looked upon the Ackular and smiled.
Julian Airfield, His Majesties Air Corps Base Hawker, Imperium Province
The screams of the engines as the two MAS.81's pealed across the airfield were deafening. The way their wings hit the air was just right to make one think they were hearing the cry of an ancient dragon barreling across the plains. The violet and crimson striped aircraft banked hard to the right, one after another as if they were at chase. As the lead plane tried to escape its pursuer the hunter found its way back on its tail. It was a high speed came of cat and mouse as the fighters began to ascend high into the sky in an almost vertical position. Suddenly however the lead fighter pointed its nose down and to the left and descended at rapid pace towards the tarmac bellow. Aircrewmen scrambled away as they feared its impending crash but just at the last moment of hope it pulled up and thundered across just meters from the ground. The stalking aircraft seemed dumbfounded high in the sky as it searched for its prey, but it was not long before it began to hound after it again. With a quick barrel roll to fixed itself on the low flying fighter.
"Dispatched." The pilot squawked satisfyingly over the radio.
"Motherfucker." The responding aircraft sent back." The two hornets lined up wing to wing as they passed around to the landing pattern.
The ornate aircraft taxied towards the terminal of the Air Base one after another until they reached the outside of a large hanger that bore the emblem of the House of Requient. The canopies of the aircraft opened and two young men stepped out as the aircrews brought ladders to them.
"I believe you not to be my brother, but instead a bastard hound bitch, the way you seek out while you fly." The young man yelled to the other pilot as he jumped down from the ladder. The aircrew around the aircraft knelt on their knees as the pilot passed. "As you were, very fine work on this aircraft." He said politely as he walked towards his companion from the other plane.
"Thank you your majesty." The senior enlisted responded, eyes fixed on the tarmac bellow him. As the Pilot Prince or "Acklium" as it is said in Achesia walked away from the aircraft he rose and began to bark orders to his crew to begin maintenance immediately.
"So what you are saying is our father fucked a hound? I don't believe he would be pleased to hear that." The other Acklium mused.
"What I am saying is some witch cursed you, and now you are the son of a bitch I always said you were." He laughed as he patted his brother on the shoulder. "Father would be proud of your skills as pilot, as my younger brother is turning out to be quiet the aviator."
"Seems like you should stick to the ground, you drive a bullet better than a plane." He returned the compliment.
The two walked towards the wardroom adjacent to the hanger, two guards opened the doors and saluted arms as they entered.
"Attention to the Prince!" A guard yelled and the occupants of the wardroom stood to attention. "As you were." The older of the two Acklium Hugh Requient shouted. The occupants rested into what they were doing previously. A guard officer approached the Ackliums and handed them a data pad.
"A urgent report your majesties. News from your father, your needed at the tower." He bowed his head.
"Thank you." Acklium James bowed his head in return, like an officer returning a salute. The guard snapped to and walked out of the wardroom to the tarmac where a Augusta Westland AW109 painted in a black and violet scene was being rolled out and powered up.
"It seems that ends the fun for today." Hugh smiled as he began to walk out of the building towards the awaiting chopper.
"Lucky, this avoids you being bested in fencing. You would be both shot down and stabbed for the day." The little brother sassed.
The elder of the two didn't honor it with a response but rather made his way to the helicopter, his flights suit flattering in the wind of the blades.
The flight from the air base to the royal fortress was only 20 minutes, the two Ackliums enjoyed the view of their city bellow them as they passed over the high walls of the outer defenses. The white washed fortifications have been added to and modernized since the medieval times. Their famous color was a sight that was known all around the Realm.
The Fortress of Ascendancy was at the western most part of the city where the walls met the steep cliffs of the Mountain of Pactguard. The tower has looked over the city since 1175 when it was erected by Ackular Luther III. The helicopter descended to the ground in the gardens of the royal palace. As it set down ground crews dressed in ceremonial garb met them to open the door and welcome the Ackliums to the palace. The formal bows were exchanged and the two heirs to the Realm ran across the field to the doors which lead into the Palace. Through chamber and hall adorned with the history of their household until they came to the large doors that guarded entry to their fathers chambers.
"My sons, please sit." The Ackular said as he heard the chamber doors open. He stared at a large mural of the ocean that had been recently hung behind his desk. He seemed to study every stroke of paint that decorated a wave of the sea.
The two boys bowed to their father, their knees resting on the hard stone floor. "You summoned us father?"
"Yes." He cleared his throat as he turned from the painting. The oceans seemed to surround him as he stood behind his desk. "I have serious business to discuss with you, sit." He motioned to the space in front of his desk and two servants ran out from behind the chamber and placed two chairs. The boys paced over and sat as they were told, each wondering what would warrant such a serious reaction from their father.
Before the Ackular began several other men walked in from the chamber entrance. They were easily recognized as Aucks- lords of the Realm- each wearing fine clothing embroidered with the most lavish of colors: some signifying their house they swear loyalty to, others to pronounce their riches. They all stood on either side of the Ackular's desk each holding various papers or data pads.
"Its time to discuss the future of our Realm, and your part in it." Their father began. He paced behind his desk for a moment and then sat across from them and leaned in. "Our seclusion as a nation is now at an end, we must join the fold to further our position in the world." The boys seemed confused for a moment as they glanced at each other and then at the Aucks that stood around them. The Realm of Achesia had been in seclusion from the outside world for hundreds of years, not having much contact with the many nations that lay beyond its boarders. "Our resources are valuable to other nations. We produce much oil, more than we consume and this could be very profitable for us, specially in these times." He took a paper from one of the Aucks and placed it in front of his sons. "Recently an oil refinery exploded in the Allied Nations, this has driven demand up high for crude oil. I have used this opportunity to secure for the Realm an alliance with an old power, the Kingdom of Aemen." He again took another paper from a different Auck. Before his sons he lay a photo of a family, one that seemed to be of some wealth and stature from the look of it. "This is the Royal Family of Aemen." He pointed to a specific member. "That is King Reginald II's daughter, which you are to marry, Hugh." This came as a slight shock to Hugh, he did not expect to be married for another few years, and much less to a foreigner. Surely he thought he would be paired with Priscilla Daevous a woman of note in the Realm.
"This is all coming at such a rush father." Hugh sat back in his chair.
"This is what your life has lead up to my son. To marry, have heirs of your own and to succeed me. Your marriage will secure the Realm a close ally, and leave an ever lasting legacy for our dynasty."