DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: Dawn of Revolution
The Successor
Seven years before the coalition war began...
"I have faith, my dearest Raqay, that this will be a wonderful day for you," Yadia assured her fiance kindly as she watched him put on his dark green, gold-trimmed cape in their shared private quarters. "And I am proud of who you are, and what you will do for Mehir Balad."
Raqay an-Ussam squinted at his reflection in the tall mirror, trying to adjust the cape around his neck. He could never get these things right. "I'm honored, Yadia. Still, I can't help but feel a great weight pressing down upon me. The entire kingdom is mine to command! And I feel more lost than ever." He hung his head.
"Now, now." Yadia strode over and lovingly wrapped her arms around her air genasi fiance, resting her head on his shoulder. "For how many years have I stood by your side, dearest Raqay, as you prepared yourself for this duty?"
Raqay managed a bashful smile. "Six years. Ever since we turned 18."
"And your brother and sister are happy to see you ascend to the throne, are they not?"
"If they're not too busy with their own affairs to notice!" Raqay chuckled, his guts still squirming with anxiety. "They're such gifted students. I wonder, once again, if one of them should have succeeded my father. But I was born first, so..." He shrugged helplessly.
"They are wonderful, yes. But they are not you." Yadia let go of her fiance and put her hands on her hips. She was a stunning beauty, as a fellow air genasi, dressed in her best for this momentous day. But she also had a stern look in her eyes. "Today, you succeed your father as the caliph! The people need to see a strong leader who can guide Mehir Balad into the future. And most of all, you need to see that great man in yourself. Just the way I do."
Raqay leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Your words are so kind."
"Only if you believe them."
Raqay wasn't sure how to answer, so he didn't. Instead, he smoothed out his relatively plain outfit, rolled his shoulders, and took Yadia's hand. "We are ready," he announced to the two guards waiting outside the private chamber doors.
Five minutes later, Raqay and Yadia had strode through the great palace's chambers with the two guards and now stood on a wide stone balcony overlooking the main plaza in Zaddir City, the kingdom's great sunlit capital. Thousands of people of all types, from tan-skinned humans to tabaxi of all fur colors to air and fire genasi, all stood in a great crowd, ready to hear their new caliph's inaugural speech.
Raqay stepped forward and spread his arms wide in dramatic fashion, and the crowd cheered the arrival of their new leader. But he also felt a terrified chill go down his spine, already feeling himself sweating, and not from the strong morning sunlight.
"P... people of Mehir Balad, my beloved homeland, I greet thee," Raqay began. "Today, I stand before you to accept the mantle of caliph, as is my birthright, and assume my divine duty to lead our people to prosperity and glory. Um..." He swallowed, his heart racing even harder. "M-my father, he... it was a tragic day when I heard the news of his assassination. The war he prosecuted against the Trassus Kingdom may have turned the people against him, doubly so when the Khanate's forces crossed our borders to the east. But today, I stand to bring stability back to our kingdom and watch over all its people."
His words, amplified with a simple spell, echoed across Zaddir City's plaza, and everyone stood in cold silence, hearing the words of their new caliph. The evasive, empty words, that is! Raqay hoped that his grandiose speech and his status as caliph would soothe the people's fears and inspire them, but he needed to think of something fast.
Anything to hide the fact he had no idea what to do.
"So! Um..." Raqay wiped his brow. "My father led us to war, and though we have lost ground to our rivals, I assure you, there shall be no more of this! I will speak with my generals and bring the full military might of our kingdom on our foes, and ensure that Mehir Balad stands for all time. Let it be known, my beloved citizens, that this unpopular war shall not continue for much longer."
Now the people were quietly chattering amongst themselves, and Raqay saw the concerned or frightened looks on their faces. He actually winced, his hands shaking. He was just stalling for time, and the people could see it. Raqay changed topics to some new appointment ideas for his ministers of finance and trade, plus the announcement of more funding for the capital's university, but the crowd had grown restless, with some people simply walking out.
Raqay gripped the balcony's stone railing and concluded, "Thus, I accept the mantle of caliph on this great day, and... and henceforth, our kingdom shall know prosperity under my benevolent rule. May the ten gods watch over us."
No one applauded as Raqay knelt, allowing his minister of culture to place the crown on his head to officially make him the new caliph, his father's young successor. Raqay merely stood up, motioned to Yadia, and retreated back into the palace with her, relieved to be back in the palace's cool interior and away from the disapproving crowd.
"I am not ready for this," Raqay groaned, clapping a hand over his face. "I cannot even promise an end to this war! The war we're losing, that is! The war that cost my father his life to an assassin's dagger!"
"You are only doing your best, my dearest Raqay," Yadia quickly told him. "You said it yourself: the crown is a heavy burden. Your father died before we were fully ready. But now is not the time to lose hope."
"I was so conceited as a young prince," Raqay admitted. "Daydreaming of being a great warrior-king who conquered the continent! Foolish boyhood dreams, all of them. Only recently did I truly understand what it really means to be my father's heir."
Actually, maybe he still didn't understand.
"My dearest Raqay, perhaps -" Yadia started, until the minister of war approached.
"My liege, your generals have requested an emergency meeting in the war room," the minister stated after he bowed to his new caliph. "We have received dire news from the front, you see, and the generals hope for quick action under your guidance."
Raqay shared a look with his fiance. "I understand. I'll be right there." Feeling like he was headed for the gallows, Raqay parted with Yadia and descended the nearest staircase and to the second floor's war room. His generals were already waiting for him. And they weren't happy with him or with each other.
"The situation is grim, but not untenable," Bakra Nahar, the commander-in-chief, barked in his strong voice. He was a burly fire genasi with brass-colored chainmail and two scimitars secured on his belt, and he spoke with strained patience. He traced his finger along a map of the Mehir Balad-Trassus Kingdom border, which had colored beads representing military units on it. "See this point? We can drive the Trassians back and retake control of this fort. Then their army must send forces to reinforce that flank to the northeast, leaving their northwest vulnerable to a cavalry charge there."
Fawa Adib, a female aarakocra and one of Raqay's most defensive-oriented generals, shook her feathered head. "It's risky, commander, and you didn't account for recent flooding in the area. The ground is too soft for a cavalry charge. But the Trassians are more used to fighting in wet conditions. We must pull back before they push that advantage too much."
"And surrender even more territory?" Bakra cried. "Preposterous! Do you see how many towns and trade outposts we've lost already? Any more, and the local economy may collapse! What good is a secure defense then?"
"We have already lost the initiative. We may have no choice," Fawa retorted.
"We can retake that initiative!"
"The odds are against us, and the stakes are too high!"
"What, and are you going to suggest we do the same against the Khanate forces pressing us on the eastern border? We've lost land to them, too!"
"Those are the Khan's Hooves, the elite cavalry unit! We must fall back and buy time for reinforcements to arrive before challenging them!"
"And I'm telling you, we've lost too much territory to our enemies as it is!"
Back and forth they went, with a few other generals and captains adding their input, gesturing all over the map. Raqay merely stood there, increasingly overwhelmed as an overall strategy for this mess failed to materialize in his mind. Normally, the caliph would trust their generals to handle these affairs, but Raqay's father had instigated this war, as was his right, and now no one knew how to finish it. Raqay had to do something. Say something. But what?
"Surely you see the folly in commander Nahar's reckless plan?" Fawa said, finally noticing her caliph standing there. She clicked her beak. "I mean no disrespect, my liege, but your father's war may prove disastrous for us, and as his successor, surely you -"
"He will surely face our enemies with vigor and determination!" Bakra Nahar cut in. He shot Raqay a sharp look, clearly expecting the younger man to agree at once.
"I..." Raqay held out his hands. "I'm still processing this."
"My liege, with one word from you, I could divert all the forces necessary to drive the Trassians back and retake all the territory they captured," Bakra said earnestly. "Your father was a bold and decisive man who knew how to finish anything he started, my liege. Now, you may do the same."
"You're using his father's memory to manipulate him?" Fawa yelped. "You dishonor your station, commander!"
"It's up to him!" Bakra declared, pointing right at the hapless Raqay. "My liege, your word?"
Raqay folded his arms, studying the map, trying desperately to find a way to untangle this knot. What would his father do? What would any proper caliph of Mehir Balad do? Take a gamble on turning this disastrous border war around and risk losing more, or make peace and concede precious land to the Ayalakh Khanate and the Trassus Kingdom?
Raqay lowered his arms and sighed. "I do not yet know. I must attend to... to other matters, and you will have my answer before long."
"I see. Of course, my liege," Bakra said, but he looked disappointed, bitter even. "In the meantime, we shall ensure that no more land is lost to our enemies." He shot a look at Fawa and the others.
"Agreed," Raqay said. "Hold firm, commander Nahar. The kingdom is counting on you. I'm counting on you." Raqay turned and exited the room, reflecting that he was counting on himself too, and knew how little that actually meant right now.
The rest of his first day as caliph went little better. The chief financial minister, the chief of medicine, the headmaster of the Zaddir City university, the chief of Zaddir City's police force, and a few ambassadors from the Fae Queendom of Talwydd and the Kingdom of Verhamaine all demanded caliph Raqay an-Ussam's attention as well, expecting great things from this new leader. And receiving so few.
"I say again: I am not ready for this," Raqay lamented when he retired to his bedchambers that night as a half moon rose over Zaddir City, glowing brightly in the cool, clean night air. He sat on the edge of his wide bed, dressed only in loose and comfortable pants, hunched over with his hands over his face.
Yadia made a sympathetic noise. "The moon is rising. Tonight, you are simply my beloved who shares a bed with me. Surely that is enough for now?"
Raqay knew what his fiancee was doing. She was as smart as his gifted younger brother and sister, and could charm her way into any crowd. But Yadia also knew when to set all that aside and be a simple, sweet lady who could invite her royal fiance into a much-needed world of innocent happiness. She was all but saying: don't worry about this until the morning, or you'll lose your mind. The burden of being caliph can wait. Be yourself for now, and refresh your mind's energy.
Raqay obliged, settling into the silky sheets with his subtly wise fiancee, holding her tight as that moon kept rising over a slumbering Zaddir City.
Then the dawn came, Raqay's first full day as caliph. And then another dawn after that. And another and another, all with more bad news coming from the two-front war in distant lands. And each dawn brought more officials, ambassadors, and viziers asking for things Raqay didn't always even understand, let alone have.
And all the while, Raqay was painfully aware that every day, his soldiers were fighting and dying against the Trassian and Khanate armies, and his innocent citizens were losing their farms and their homes the whole time. It was easy to look at Bakra Nahar's map in the war room and reduce the border war to a game of chess, but those were real lives being lost out there. They needed their caliph to guide and protect them.
It was the seventh nightfall when an agonized, frazzled Raqay an-Ussam faced himself in the mirror and realized that he was not an extension of his father. He was him, and it was time to prove it. For all of Mehir Balad.
He called for negotiations.
It was another week before Raqay's summons were finally answered, and when the time came, the caliph was already seated on his throne when two foreign parties arrived, the throne room doors thrown open to admit them. Raqay's two dozen guards tensed, watching as Trassian and Khanate soldiers escorted their commanding officers into the heart of Zaddir City's seat of power. Raqay felt more nervous than any of his guards, but he didn't dare show it. He was a sovereign ruler. It was time to project not arrogant strength, but wisdom and benevolence in the face of war.
Raqay rose from his throne and spread his arms wide, taking a few steps forward to greet his guests. "Welcome, officers, to my palace. I trust your journey here was a comfortable and safe one?"
A water genasi woman in white and blue robes made a small but polite bow, her leather armor creaking under her wizard robes. "Greetings to you, caliph, and I assure you my trip here was free of trouble and discomfort."
Raqay studied her. This was Octavia Serpicus, commander-in-chief of the Trassus Legion, her kingdom's royal military. She even had a prosthetic right arm, an advanced model from Talwydd, forged of polished brass and steel. Octavia was known to be modest and forgiving, like Raqay himself, but was also more sure of herself and had an indomitable will.
"I rode my swiftest steed to meet you, caliph. My journey was blessed by swift winds," the other foreign general stated, bowing her head. This human was Mingmei Moru, commander of the Khan's Hooves, the most elite cavalry unit in the entire Khanate royal army. Her long, dark hair was twisted into two braids with ribbons at the end, a popular hairstyle among Khanate women, and she wore silver and red armor. She was also known for her rash impatience, sharp eye for details, and sarcastic humor.
Now it was time to decide the fate of millions.
"I have brought with me two of my best commanders, Bakra Nahar -" Raqay gestured toward his fire genasi general, "- and Fawa Adib." He then motioned to the latter. "With their aid, we may negotiate new terms that may benefit all parties involved and bring stability to the land."
"Is that so?" Mingmei Moru gave Bakra and Fawa calculating looks. "I've never negotiated with an aarakocra before. Are their words as sharp as their talons, as I've heard?"
Fawa winced slightly at Mingmei's bluntness. "I studied for many years to apply my wits to whatever endeavor the caliph requires of me."
"Now, general Moru, we should be gentler with our hosts. They're so hospitable," Octavia Serpicus said with a small grin. She tossed her curly dark hair, and water droplets went everywhere. "This palace is so cool compared to the hot sun outside. Such a relief!"
"I had every intention of living up to my kingdom's reputation for hospitality," Raqay said, stalling for time as he tried to collect his slightly panicked thoughts. "Refreshments may be provided after our meeting, including the finest iced tea, fresh fruit, and sweet bread."
"Ha! I like this caliph fellow," Octavia said with a light laugh. "So, shall we get down to business?"
Raqay was acutely aware of Bakra Nahar shooting him a demanding look, while Mingmei Moru was still sizing him up, as though calculating how to verbally tear him apart. Let her try.
The three leaders talked. And debted. And even argued and politely joked as the minutes and hours marched on, with Bakra Nahar providing a strategic map at one point and Fawa Adib adding some last-minute updates. The whole time, Raqay couldn't help but compare himself to how he had seen his father handle himself in this very throne room with dignitaries and military officers from the other five kingdoms, including a stubbornly prideful Illaran diplomat who insisted on trading silver for expensive cheese, or an Orzhov Syndicate priest who wanted to expand the Syndicate's operations from its Zaddir City branch location to the coastal city Suffah-Jin.
In the end, it was peace that won the day, and Raqay, Mingmei Moru, and Octavia Serpicus shook hands on a somewhat harsh but fair treaty between the three nations.
The foreign guests were already gone when Bakra Nahar scowled at the map. "My liege... these terms...!" His eyes blazed with literal flames of anger.
"It is done. I have spoken as your caliph," Raqay declared, resuming his seat on the throne. "Commander Bakra Nahar, you will send a messenger hawk to your general on the front line with this news, and coordinate everything and everyone there. We have much to do."
"That we do," Fawa agreed, her eyes were sparkling with relief. "I, too, shall send my fastest messenger hawks to the border and coordinate our efforts. I presume you will have an announcement ready soon, my liege?"
Raqay merely grinned.
Early that evening, as the sun slowly sank below Zaddir City's protective walls and the air grew cool and still, caliph Raqay an-Ussam stood on the palace's stone balcony once again with his guards and fiancee by his side, confidently relaying the news to the crowd.
"...and thus, my father's war is ended, and peace returns to Mehir Balad," Raqay concluded. He got plenty of stares of disbelief or outrage, but also some looks of relief and approval among the crowd. He would have to get used to this kind of thing.
Raqay continued, "Formally conceding our lost territory to the Trassus Kingdom and the Ayalakh Khanate is a painful price to pay. But as your caliph, I must face the reality of war and make the decisions that allow our kingdom to survive. The risk of continuing the border war was too great; many more lives would likely have been lost, and a much harsher peace treaty would have been forced upon me. But today, I have prevented that with words alone."
Announcements like this couldn't be all bad news, though, or the kingdom's morale would suffer. So, Raqay ended his announcement on a more posive note. "Thousands of our fellow countrymen have lost their land and their homes, indeed their very livelihoods, to the border war and my concession of territory. Therefore, I shall launch a large-scale relief program for my displaced citizens, and help them rebuild their lives deeper in Mehir Balad's territory. The royal treasury shall fund this endeavor, and rest assured, no new taxes shall be levied on the common people. My father chose to start this border war, and I chose to end it on these terms, so the throne itself shall bear this burden. I believe this is true justice for the people of Mehir Balad so peace may return to these sands."
Raqay waited a moment, and a general chatter broke out. To Raqay's sharp ears, the chatter sounded more positive than not, and he took heart in that, a relieved smile spreading across his face. His business finished, Raqay made a formal exit and strode back into the palace, Yadia accompanying him the whole way.
"My liege, that was wonderful," Yadia said warmly, wrapping her arms around Raqay's left arm. "You have spoken as a true king! I'm so proud of you."
Raqay's smile widened. "That's the first time you called me 'my liege,' Yadia, and not just addressed me as your betrothed."
"Because this evening, my liege, you have fully blossomed as a leader. I have waited so long for this day. The people of our kingdom are in good hands."
"I can do this," Raqay found himself muttering, unable to help himself.
"Hmmmm? What was that, my liege?"
Raqay squared his shoulders. "I can do this, my dearest Yadia. My kingdom has suffered a loss today, but it also has peace, and I have extended a helping hand to those who need it. Perhaps I am ready for the throne after all. As ready as a fellow like me can be."
"Truer words have never been spoken, my liege."