Life houses pain, hatred, and doubt.

Death brings closure, change, and memory.

Both define existence, and both shaped Shurima.

-Al'rabi, The Scarab Empress

"I can teach you no more." Sur'tesh closed the tome with a heavy clap as dust leapt from the pages. "I am afraid my time as your schoolteacher has passed, Master Azir."

It had been a little over two years since the disastrous Hunt. The bloodstained sands had been swept away by time, and little evidence remained of the Xer'sai attack than a stone pillar, a solemn memorial left to commemorate the lives of the fallen guardsmen. The citizenry still avoided the place as if it was cursed, however, often taking wide turns near the palace entrance. Xerath hated it. "Superstition.", he had often told me, "Simple minds believe that everything is magic. The arcane is not easily wielded by a screaming insect, regardless of size." Xerath too, had felt the effects of time since that event, marked by a light scar across his right cheek. Even glimpsing it reminded me of the aftermath of that day.

The sting of a misplaced stone rod in a cot was my first memory, oddly enough. My father and I had been rushed to the infirmary. As I stirred from my unconcious daze, I remember staring directly down the snout of a crocodile. And it talked.

"The prince is awake!"

The flurry of activity nearly sent me back into unconsciousness. Nurses were surrounding the bed, shoving all manner of smelling salts, drinks, and enchanted charms in my face. With a calm, almost unnatural gait, another figure approached. This one was a jackal. He turned to the crocodile and gave a curt nod. "Good. Please, watch the Emperor for me, brother."

The reptilian man turned to leave, and I caught the glint of two massive blades tucked into his belt. Whoever this was, he was clearly an accomplished warrior. The jackal continued to speak, turning to me as he did so.

"You are Azir? I am glad to see you awake again. Those creatures rarely leave survivors. In fact, I believe you are only around the two-hundredth example. By my records, of course." His snout turned upwards in what I assumed was meant to be a reassuring smile. "You may call me Nasus."

Nasus. The memories began to trickle into my mind, accompanied by the droning voice of Sur'tesh from some ancient lesson. He was one of the Ascended. A millenia old person...or perhaps god was more appropriate, having undergone some sort of magical ritual to grant incredible power, near eternal life, and an inhuman form. From what I could remember, Nasus was some sort of scholar. That made the crocodile…

"Renekton...you need not...worry…"

My pleasure at recalling the name of the other Ascended was quickly vanquished by the weak tone of a voice I recognized.

"Father?"

I attempted to leap from my bed, only to feel myself overcome with a sudden sluggish sensation. My muscles seemed to atrophy briefly as I awkwardly flopped over. Nasus retracted his hand, still crackling with magical energy. "I am sorry, child, but you must be still. You may still have some undiscovered injuries."

Weakly tilting my head, I could see small glimpses of my father. He was lying on a cot as well, a veritable legion of medics, soldiers, advisors, and one rather large reptile surrounded him. I breathed a sigh of relief as he gave me a reassuring nod. "Listen to Nasus...please. I will survive."

There was a slight part in the crowd, and I could see the extent of my father's injury. His right leg had, indeed, been devoured. An odd purple tint was reaching from the bandaged stump, creating veins of odd, pulsating energy on his bare thigh.

"Void energy." Nasus stated, following my eyes. "The fangs of the Xer'sai have a troubling property. That is no ordinary poison."

"Will my father die?"

"We will all die." Nasus calmly replied. "It is part of the eternal cycle. But I assume you speak of...soon?"

It was fairly clear that the Ascended were not masters of social graces, at least. I nodded.

"I cannot tell you, for I do not know." Nasus bowed his head. "But...I will not lie to you. The crown summoning the Ascended is rarely a cause for celebration. He may fear his time is soon at an end. I have instructed the medics in all the cures I am aware of, but even after centuries of life, I must acknowledge the certainty of death, young Azir."

Nasus' speech was interrupted as the door slammed open. I recognized the scowling visage of Ku'rik immediately as he dragged a figure behind him.

Xerath.

My slave was covered in bruises, clearly recently inflicted. Ku'rik shoved him to the stone floor at Nasus' feet, causing the Ascended to step back, clearly rather surprised.

"My emperor, my prince…" Ku'rik breathed. "This slave...he was casting magic! Surely he was empowering those creatures!"

Xerath said nothing. He simply stared, and unpleasant memories of his silence during our first several months of knowing one another filled my mind. I saw Ku'rik reveal his scimitar, a golden crescent shining harshly against the dull stone wall. "Give me the order, and I will execute this simpering traitor!"

My father was speechless. I was sure he was about to order Ku'rik to cease this foolishness, but he turned to me instead. "Azir. This slave is yours. I give you the decision."

An odd mixture of confusion and rage seemed to fill my gut. "Xerath's magic...it was to stay above the sand!" I cried. "He saved my life! Do not harm him, Ku'rik!"

Ku'rik too, was surprised. I watched as his snarl deepened, and his eyes swiveled to my father, who nodded. "You heard my son. The boy is not to be harmed."

Shaking, Ku'rik refused to lower his weapon. "No! My liege, my emperor...magic, ANY magic, is forbidden knowledge for a slave! I am the Captain of the Guard! I will not...I REFUSE...to allow the law to be ignored!" As his scowl twisted into a smile, Ku'rik seemed more demon than man. "You will thank me later, you have both just survived a near death encounter...when your judgements have returned…"

With a clatter of medical tools falling to the ground, Renekton lunged across the room, grabbing Ku'rik and slamming him to the ground. His scaly fingers encircling the burly man's neck, the Ascended began to speak. "My brother and I do not typically interfere in these affairs...but I believe the emperor has made his opinion clear."

"Indeed." Nasus had spoken up now. He looked down at Xerath. "And the prince speaks the truth. I can sense arcane remnants on this boy's legs...but nowhere else. If any spells were cast, they were of a self-effecting variety. Certainly no summonings, or strengthening cantrips. He had nothing to do with the Xer'sai queen."

Xerath stood, legs trembling, and looked me in the eyes. "Are you alright, Master Azir?"

"I am. Thanks to you." I declared. While Ku'rik managed to not find himself on the sharp ends of Renekton's blades, his insubordination earned him quite the demotion. It would be years before I saw the former Captain again.

An oddly forced sounding cough from Sur'tesh brought me hurtling back to the present reality. I was in class, of course. I could have sworn I saw a smile curl around Xerath's face as he saw my embarrassing lapse in focus.

"Thank you, Sur'tesh. You have been a wonderful instructor." The old man smiled.

"Do visit me sometime, Master Azir. I have been doing some research on Ascension...a fascinating subject! I must admit, my prince, I still feel a little jealous that you met Lord Nasus in person!"

As I prepared a sarcastic reply about the circumstances of that meeting, the door creaked open. Xerath and Sur'tesh bowed deeply as my father entered the school room. He walked with a limp, a long, thick golden rod protruding from the remnants of his right leg. As his robes swished, I could see the dark violet skin that lay above it, and could not help but remember Nasus' words. Although he tried to hide it from me, it was clear. His condition was deteriorating.

Father gave a smile to Sur'tesh and began to clap. "Thank you for assisting my son for one last session. Your usual pay will, of course, be doubled for such an occasion."

"Your generosity is one of your many fine traits, Emperor Anbi." Sur'tesh replied, bowing so deeply I thought his old bones would snap. My father then addressed Xerath.

"And has my son been paying attention, slave?"

Xerath seemed to stiffen. His answer came out in syllables, rather than all at once. "Mostly."

My father chuckled. "As I suspected. Ah, well. I was worse when I was his age. Do the two of you mind leaving for now? I would like to speak with my son in private."

Sur'tesh and Xerath left swiftly, and my father waited for the sound of the door slamming shut before speaking. "So, your education is complete. You have learned of the laws of our land, the duties of the throne, and the glorious emperors who preceded you." A small smile crossed his face. "Including a certain Emperor Anbi, who I expect you to have a bit of a special respect for! But I am still unsure of something."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, father?"

Pain seemed to etch itself on his face as he continued. "I am not sure you are prepared to be Emperor. And I do not mean this as an insult."

I was puzzled. "Then what DO you mean it as?"

The Emperor sighed. "Today two nobles entered my throne room. One of them had stolen a large sum of gold from the other, and granted it to one of his servants, who had fallen on hard times. The accuser demanded the imprisonment of the other noble, and the execution of the servant. Do you know what I did?"

I blinked. Surely it was obvious. "You refused. You took some of the gold back, to be sure, but-"

"I had the servant stabbed, and cut his master's hands off with the very same blade for thievery."

I was speechless. "Father. That's...that's…"

He closed his eyes. "Heartless. Evil. Despicable. But I had to do it. The noble who was affronted...he controls the entire slum district. Should I offend him, he will likely take his aggression out on the poor who are forced to live under him. I could not risk that."

Enraged, I pushed my chair aside, staring daggers at my father. "But you are the Emperor! You could have stopped him!"

"But I could not have stopped those he would have inspired, his family, his allies, and soon, Shurima would be divided. I am Emperor, but I am not a god. I shed undeserving blood today, Azir, but it was a puddle. I would not risk a monsoon."

"I would!" I sputtered. "I would force him out of his position, if I had to! I would look out for ALL citizens of Shurima, not one pompous noble!"

To my surprise, my father smiled. "You are so compassionate, Azir. That is why I fear you may not be ready to be Emperor. The power is great, but so is the cost. This is not the first hard decision I have had to make, my son. And some day, you too, will be forced to make them. I only pray you can keep your inner sun burning through it all, and bring about a better Shurima. It is all I have ever wished for you."

Emperor Anbi rose to meet me, and extended his arms to embrace me. I walked away.

One week later, he was dead from the Void poisoning. I was to be Emperor Azir.