Instance War (eBook)

Zephyr Axiom (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
729 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8632-7 (ISBN)

Infos

After becoming stranded six hundred years in the past, Retyar Venon resigned himself to never seeing his home ever again. At best, his world was out of reach. At worst, changes to the timeline rendered it nonexistent. Fortune reverses when an expedition from the First World arrives in the City of Creedport and reveals that the Rift in time is not what Retyar thought. Rescued from his life as a castaway in the past, Retyar is brought back to the 55th century Kingdom of Govunari, together with his friends Fellone, Arzan and Ellaniel Redleaf, Charva Leverie, and Maltan. But this homecoming is both wonderful and treacherous. The Rift has changed everything. Technology has marched on, politics have been upended, and the world order is in peril. Old friends seek to embroil Retyar in plots for power while foreign nations maneuver for a slice of the pie. And with an understanding of Kahverengi's Dilemma comes a realization of incredible danger. Control is fleeting. The mighty can topple. Those ready to seize at opportunity can take all the cards. Enjoy an exciting return to the world of Dunya in this second installment to the Kahverengi's Dilemma series.

Born twice in Los Angeles, California, Zeph now resides in Riverside County. A fan of old school Star Wars and the Lord of the Rings, he also enjoys the Total War, Battlefield, Elders Scrolls, Soulcalibur, and Soulsborne franchises. His all-time favorite anime is Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

Textauszug

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

“My dear friend, I always find your theories relating to the concepts of time travel to be most fascinating.”
 

 

Kavinath settled comfortably into his seat in the Senate Chamber of the great Vron Empire. The yellow cushions, colored with dyes imported from the east, were soft and plump, freshly replaced by his servants that morning. It had been far past due—the old ones had long since gone lumpy. Not what his ancient, esteemed, and skinny rear deserved. I’m nearing ninety years of age, he thought to himself. Why am I still in this circus instead of living out my sunset years surrounded by my great-grandchildren?

Even as the words went through his mind, Kavinath smirked at the question. This chamber was more home to him than anything. Over the years, he had spent more time in its halls than with his own wife. The fresco ceiling, decorated in scenes of the Senate’s founding, stood a steadier friend than any man he’d ever known. The stone circle that made the central dais had been the stage of every major accomplishment of his life. The silver standards of the Empire draping the walls had witnessed all his greatest victories and defeats. The concentric circles of marble desks and wood seats were the arena of the game to which he had devoted his existence. To leave this would be to abandon my very identity. No, I will die in this chamber. I can’t live anywhere else.

A voice broke through his introspection, “Do I still have your vote, Kavinath?” Wirfavan leaned in from his seat to Kavinath’s right. Impeccably dressed as always, the man wore the finest Delshin silks, colored black, silver, and blue, matching his graying hair and navy eyes. Today, the beads on his chest bore the pattern of a diving eagle. Swooping in for the victory, I see.

“Yes, I’m convinced,” Kavinath said.

“And your like-minded fellows?”

Kavinath smiled. Everyone knew he held a powerful influence over a third of the Senate floor, even if no one dared defy taboo and openly call him a party leader. “The new tax is in the best interests of the Empire. We need the funds if we’re to put down the Ikashans.”

“And they’re not … swayed by Nadanda’s arguments?”

“Your son will have his funding, Wirfavan, and an army to rival that of Dilkrath the Conqueror.”

That seemed to appease Wirfavan. He sat back in his seat and laced his fingers under his chin.

Kavinath closed his eyes and enjoyed settling into his pillows. An old man deserved the little comforts in life.

A wood clapper echoed in the Chamber, the sound amplified by the dome above. “The Senate is in session!”

Chattering quieted, seats creaked, and cloth rustled until all ninety-six senators had taken their places in the large, circular amphitheater that was the Senate Chamber. The legislative building’s design reflected the intended principle of equality, with its four stepped rows of concentric seats and no central figure. In reality, the layout just lent itself to its own form of power stratification. The hot-blooded younger senators had their places up front, where they played their part of shouting and screaming for those in the back with the real authority. Those like Kavinath, who sat in the furthest row to watch the arguments and the currents of influence. They seldom spoke, but when they did, their voices were heard.

“Keeper’s lot!” The same man who had sounded the clapper drew a short stick from a box in the front row. “Senator Bleave is Keeper of the Day.” Kavinath heard a number of low groans as the Caller handed a length of paper to Bleave on the second level.

Bleave cleared his throat noisily and squinted at the words. “First matter of the day is …” He coughed loudly and squinted harder. “… is …”

Wirfavan stood, his face red. “Bloody shyles—we don’t have time for this! Give the sheet to someone else, Bleave!”

The look of relief on Bleave’s face as he thrust it to his neighbor brought a chuckle to the back of Kavinath’s throat.

“Six continents and twelve seas, someone should take his name out of the box,” Wirfavan said as he dropped back into his chair.

“First matter of the day is on the Empire’s response to a declaration of closed trade by the Pakarakan League. Second matter shall be the final vote as to the proposed raising of taxes to fund—”

The Keeper’s voice cut off at a stream of loud cracks from outside the Chamber.

Kavinath started, pressing his hand to his chest. “What?”

The outer doors burst open. A silver-uniformed Vron soldier stumbled through and fell dead onto the Senate floor, not five paces from Kavinath’s seat. Senators shot to their feet, those carrying swords or daggers drawing them bare.

Kavinath stared at the pool of blood spreading beneath the soldier’s body. His heart thudded in his ears. Who would dare attack the Senate?

A shadow arrived at the threshold, followed leisurely by the man in full plate armor who cast it. He was the most unsettling sight Kavinath had ever seen—armor finished in black lacquer to look like molded tar, not an inch of skin visible. The helmet was a thing of nightmares. No opening existed at all, not even for eye-slits. And yet the intruder turned his head as if taking in the whole of the Chamber.

Two senators had the presence of mind to charge. Ohleavon, who still carried a reputation as one of the best duelists in the capital, reached first. He thrust his sword cleanly into the gap of the intruder’s left armpit as the other senator wailed away at his chestplate, making up in spirit what he lacked in skill. The man in armor stood unfazed. He reached out and grabbed both swords by the blade as if they were blunt sticks. Behind him more men in black armor flowed into the Chamber, their boots squeaking on the marble floor. In moments, at least thirty of the strange attackers surrounded the senators. The first of the intruders pushed Ohleavon and the other man away before back-stepping to the side of the doorway and standing at attention.

One last man in armor strode into the Chamber, the same as all the others except for a white star engraved on his chest and shoulders. He stopped so that the daylight of the entryway framed him from behind, while two of the others dragged the dead Vron soldier out of his way.

“I am Colonel Hathyene of the Kingdom of Govunari,” the armored man’s voice boomed clearly despite the helmet without holes. “My King sends me to offer you terms.”

The echo of his words gave way to utter silence. Kavinath looked about. When he saw that no one readied to speak, he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “Terms for what?”

Colonel Hathyene regarded him with an inscrutable, faceless gaze. “Why, for the surrender of the Vron Empire into vassalship to His Highness King Tathar.”

The Senate erupted into a roar of angry shouts, shocked cries, and laughter. That last came from Wirfavan. “I don’t know how you made your way all the way into the Senate, but you dare to suggest the mightiest empire on the continent of Moshon bow down to some distant king we have never heard of?”

Kavinath glanced at the dead guard. No one before would have imagined someone attacking the heart of the Empire. Security around the building itself was light, but surely the Home Legion would quickly realize something was wrong in the Senate and have aid on the way.

“I understand it is hard to appreciate the situation you are currently in,” the colonel said in his booming voice. “We shall give you a demonstration of our kingdom’s power. Please, follow me out to the Senate plaza. I promise, none of you will be harmed.”

“What I witness will be your unceremonious death as the garrison puts you down,” Wirfavan said.

Kavinath felt less certain. The confidence of these foreigners—had the city somehow been taken? No, I was outside not half an hour ago. There is no way the capitol could fall that quickly.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped for the door. Behind him, he heard Wirfavan scoff, and then follow.

Exiting out onto the Senate steps, he saw the whole north of the city stretched out from the Legislators’ Hill down to the sprawling docks. Everything looked as it should for the capital of one of the grandest empires in Dunya’s history. People milled about the streets. Ships sat at anchor or sailed in and out of port. At street corners and on masts, the silver Vron flag flew proudly. Not a single sign of destruction or siege anywhere. At least, nowhere except for the plaza at the base of the steps, where two dozen guards lay dead on the marble paving stones.

“So, you’ve killed a few guards,” Wirfavan said. “Are we supposed to cower? I assure you, if you slaughter the Senate here, the Empire will unleash a tide of vengeance that will not stop until every city in your kingdom is a smoldering ruin and your king’s head is mounted for the crows.”

“I promised no harm would come to you senators,” the colonel said. “Please, wait until everyone is gathered.”

The whole of the Senate emptied into the plaza, the legislators murmuring quietly. The men in black armor held the perimeter, though with a stance that suggested honor guards rather than captors.

“There, we’re all here,” Wirfavan said with an irate wave of the arm. “Show us your great power, or are you—”

“That is the Hall of Heroes, correct?” Colonel Hathyene asked, pointing at the wondrous building that had been constructed in Kavinath’s grandfather’s time. Its long, arched top...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 3.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8632-7 / 9798350986327