The Choices We Make

'' "Your future depends on many things, but mostly on you." ''

Throne Room 


 * The high ceilings of this gray stone chamber are supported by rows of massive columns along an aisle that features a purple carpet that extends from the arched entrance to the Emperor's throne room and ends at the first step of the dais that holds the gleaming majesty of the Imperial throne - a chair of gold, armrests encrusted in jewels, back and seat cushioned with stuffed pillows covered with crimson velvet. Torches flicker in stanchions attached to the columns. The fluttering wings and twitter of birds can occasionally be heard in the shadows overhead, where the fowl have nested after coming into the estate through one of the balconies or the courtyard.  The seal of Fastheld - a crown within a dark, unbroken circle - is on the tapestry that hangs behind and above the throne of Talus Kahar.

Emperor Zolor Zahir I is seated upon the throne of Fastheld, quietly pondering the torch-flickered shadows while his feathered companion - a black raven with glittering eyes - shuffles idly on the back of the great chair. A pair of squires opens the throne room doors to grant entrance to the newcomers. At the sound, the herald moves into position to make the proper pronouncement. The Emperor, on the other hand, permits himself only a brief sidelong glance at the disturbance while the raven squawks its disapproval.

It could have almost been an echo of the past if the Zahir was a Kahar, for within the very same Throne Room of Fastheld Keep can one also find the Sovereign Prince of the Blood, clad in a somewhat curiously out of place ensemble of black ringmail armor beneath an equally black leather cloak. Paying little heed to the raven or the heralds, he stands to the right of the throne itself, leaning against an elegant staff of polished white river oak, with flame-shaped gilding embossed along the top of the staff, which is carved to form a sort of gnarled claw that contains a palm-sized light's eye gemstone. His role in this affair apparently seems to be one of custodian over a certain female Freelander.

Oren Nillu is led into the throne room by a herald who soon announces his presence. Once that formality is done with, the old man approaches the dais, offering Zolor a respectful nod. The man standing at his side and the Freelander get nothing more than a brief glance.

A black haired women, dressed in a simple gambeson and thick wool pants stands several feet from Serath's side. Her face looks tired and hair somewhat disheveled with strands straying from the leather thong that binds it in a loose ponytail. She is silent with head bowed to the floor. As Oren enters she lifts her gaze just enough to catch a quick glimpse. Her body visibly tenses a little.

The Emperor wastes precious little time on formalities himself. He laces his fingers together and regards the newly arrived Nillu with a pale sneer. "You stood before me once in this room and declared your fealty to the Crown. Now I learn that you plot in private to build your own little army of Shadow-Touched mages to do your bidding - including an attempt to oust the Emperor. This is treason, plain and simple. Give me one good reason why your blood should not soon drench the flagstones below your feet."

The Prince remains silent, expression neutral behind that imperious gaze of distinctive ice-blue. Though his grasp upon that polished ivory staff tightens with a soft squeak of leather gloves, his is otherwise the part of a sentinel. Ever watching, cloak hanging without motion around his stately form.

Oren Nillu raises a single eyebrow. "Perhaps I was misinformed when I learned that it was within my authority to accept mages into the ranks of my House Guard," he replies calmly. "Their purpose there, as His Majesty can see for himself should he so wish, has been no other than to earn my House greater profit by cutting down on labor." His eyes travel to the Freelander, then back to Zolor. "It seems to me that perhaps the Crown has been misled by the lies of a woman who, as I have come to learn, was plotting the very thing you are now accusing me of."

Ester doesn't move as the emperor speaks, she stares silently at the floor. The older nobles words cause a visible flinch and her fist clench at her side. Her gaze rises to look at Oren, her expression remaining quite neutral as she studies him.

Zolor smirks. "What makes you think she is here to report your treason? Perhaps I have called her here to put an end to her miserable, traitorous life as well. Such assumptions do you great injustice, Oren. However, if you wish to play this game, I will say that while I do not oppose the concept of mages within your House Guard, I quite oppose the idea of using them to infiltrate key points of influence and information throughout the realm in an effort to dethrone me over some misguided devotion to a dead emperor." The raven on the back of the throne clacks its beak and peers at Oren as the Emperor continues. "That behind us, I will repeat my question, which you have insolently failed to answer, at your own grave peril: Why should I not see you slain for treason?"

A tilt of his head preludes a glance towards Ester as she in turn looks over at a Nillu that stands accused by an Emperor. His clutch of the ivory staff lessens slightly amidst yet another soft creak of leather, and as quietly as his gaze shifted it once again returns to the exchange between the Raven and the Bear.

"If not the woman beside you, then I can think of no one else who would try to spread such lies," the Duke answers. "As you say, I once swore fealty before this throne and I am a man of my word. I have committed nor plotted to commit any act of treason against the Crown. If I am to be slain for such an accusation, I ask at least for the benefit of a trial so that I may prove my innocence."

Ester looks towards the Emperor, to Oren and back again, a flicker of uncertainty washing her features for a moment. She clears her throat and speaks; her voice low with a tone of respect. "If what his Majesty accuses of you of considering is not true then I question the fitness of your mind in remembering what words have passed your lips M'lord."

"Your word is the only justification you can provide for your continued survival?" the Emperor inquires, a mordant chuckle breaking through his lips. "Scarce pickings in that crop this season, I'm afraid. If you can do no better than that, then we have little left to discuss. And where do you get this notion that traitors deserve a trial? This is not a quarrel between two feuding landowners to be settled by a magistrate. This is *treason*. The Crown will countenance no such thing. The folly of a trial? Madness. You parade in witnesses who will lie and swear to it; I parade in witnesses who will speak true and swear to it. What magistrate would rule *against* the Crown in such a circumstance without risking their own necks?" He sighs and shakes his head. "No, some matters are - and should be - in the hands of the Emperor alone. This is one of them. Your life hangs in the balance, Oren Nillu. Do you maintain that your word and your word only should grant you reprieve from the headsman's axe?"

"I maintain that I have served the Empire and the Crown, regardless of who sits the throne, for a great deal of years," Oren states. "Never have I broken my word and I do believe I have proven throughout the years that I am honorable man. I swore fealty and I remain loyal to that oath. I am baffled by the fact that my honor should be put to question over the ranting of a mere common criminal. I lack the time for the scheme you speak of, Your Majesty, for as you easily learn by visiting Glittering Bear, my time has been exclusively invested in continuing the work I did for your predecessor, which is, simply put, seeking a solution for the Drake threat. I have no interest in political games. I am old man and my devotion remains only to this realm."

He turns to look at Ester, eyebrow raised. "Words are the only thing we truly have. If mine is not enough to keep me alive, there is very little else I can offer. If His Majesty requires prove of my loyalty," he adds, gaze sliding back to the man on the throne, "he need only ask and I shall do it."

Ester looks back down at the ground after Oren speaks. She pauses for a moment, nods slightly and comments in a quiet voice, "Aye. We only have our words. All of us."

"I would not have called you here if the only source of this information was, as you put it, a 'common criminal,'" the Emperor replies to Oren. "This information comes from multiple sources, including from among the ranks of the nobility. So, spare me your plaintive cries of petty rivalries. Know this: Your scheme is exposed and you are under watch, Lord Nillu. A crueler, more pragmatic ruler would see you dead on principle just because the potential remains for you to act against him should you go free. I, on the other hand, am not so cruel. Perhaps I am too much of an idealist. I believe people can change, Oren. They can and do. Sometimes for the better."

He smiles tautly. "I will let you go free this night. I understand you plan a gathering of your house in the coming days. Be certain to profess your fealty to the Crown at this meeting, for all to hear, and provide the Crown with all information relating to any mages you might consider taking into your employ so that they might serve the interests of the realm - rather than your house." His fingers rest on his lap and the raven behind him shifts to the right, tilting its head as the image of Oren Nillu is reflected in its glittering eyes. "If rumors persist about your traitorous plans, I won't have you killed. I'll have your house disbanded and I'll let the other houses scramble for the scraps while you live out the rest of your days as a drudge in the sewers of the Shadow District. Am I quite understood?"

"It is known that the commoner at your side, Your Majesty, has former Luminary allies who are also of the nobility," Oren states. "If it is your wish to watch my every move, I gladly accept it. I have not done nor will ever do anything to compromise the relations between my House and the Crown. I ask only that you invest the same time in investigating the matter, so my name can be cleared of these accusations." He pauses, and then adds: "And I understand, Your Majesty. I understand completely."

"Beware the vow that binds too strictly, lest it snap itself." A regal voice finally purrs from beside the Raven Emperor; that of the Prince that offers the Duke Nillu a level tone and an equally level glance.

Ester doesn't move as the men speak in turn, except to offer a few slight shakes of her head hear and there. She breathes in deeply a couple of times but stays silent.

"Enough," Zolor Zahir intones, and the raven adds its own eloquent RAWRK! as if to second the decree. As the bird ruffles its feathers and settles down, the Emperor goes on: "This parlay is at an end. The Duke understands. I have made the stakes known to him. This scandal will die or his house will. Quite simple, really. The Crown appreciates your continued support. You are all dismissed."

Oren Nillu ignores Serath, offering a nod to Zolor. He turns and strides on out of the throne room.

"Ester, wait outside." Serath offers to the Freelander, looking back to Zolor in turn, the polished ivory refracting the warm hues of the blazing stanchions around the Throne Room. "The Crown has a quick matter or two that needs to be discussed while we're here." He smiles, which is one of those gestures that seems out of place in the wake of what just transpired.

Ester blinks at the dismissal and gives the Emperor a questioning look which soon moves to Serath. She clears her throat with some uncertainty before bowing before both of them and walking out of the room.

''Return to Season 5 (2007)