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  Fallavakara was accompanied by Captain Julius to the throne room, who announced her, saying: “Your Imperial Majesty, a guest – the enchanting Fallavakara – wishes to meet with you and be graced by your presence.” The guard captain and the witch stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the pedestal whereupon Imperial Prince Octavian’s throne was situated.

  Upon hearing the announcement of the new arrival, Octavian looked up from a crystal into which he was staring to see his own reflection – an image which never ceased to delight him. He glanced diagonally downward in the direction of the throne room entrance and saw a woman standing at the foot of the staircase alongside Captain Julius. Octavian then stood up from his throne, walked halfway down the steps and got a closer look at Fallavakara, and she thereby got a closer look at him.

  At the awesome sight of the handsome Imperial Prince, Fallavakara remembered that she was a woman first, and then a witch second. Her desire awakened within her and burned hotter than a blue sun. Yet, she tempered this with a measure of self-control, knowing that she needed to keep her wits and manipulate him. She could not let her desire for sensual pleasure interfere with her good judgment and make her seem unattractive, because she wanted her blood to one day flow through the veins of the Imperial Prince’s offspring, so that she could have power and influence in this empire.

  From where he stood on the staircase – halfway between his throne and this woman known as Fallavakara – Octavian immediately saw in her many feminine imperfections. Her skin was not silky smooth and clear, in comparison with his. She had the look of a woman of over forty-five (45) years, with some visible signs of aging. To him, she was not worthy of his time, much less a closer approach. He laughed out loud, asking: “What business have you here, old woman?”

  Fallavakara was immediately angry at the insult to her appearance, as it was obvious that the Imperial Prince neither felt any attraction to her nor even respected her enough to be tactful. She drank anew of the waters of the Zovvin Ocean from her vial – which was covered in the classical symbols of spirits – and she was energized. The witch began to speak in the ancient spirit summoner’s tongue, to utter a curse against Octavian. She did so correctly, but nothing occurred. She could feel as if her magic fell dead to the floor. In fact, Octavian’s health was protected most thoroughly by the power of the waters of the Trerada Ocean which he regularly drank, and which deflected the spiritual attack entirely. Fallavakara did know for certain which water that Imperial Prince Octavian drank and could only guess that was the reason for her failure, although it was, by far, the most likely reason.

  The witch knew that the ocean waters were truly mighty, even though she was also powered by the waters of another great ocean. She wondered if, perhaps, her potion of Zovvin Ocean waters was impure, or if Octavian’s innate potential for health was superior to her innate potential to use spirit magic to cause harm, or if his potion of Trerada Ocean waters was more pure. Perhaps all were true. Fallavakara considered placing a curse upon the throne room guards to control their weak minds and use them to physically assassinate the Imperial Prince using their weapons. Even if that worked – which was by no means certain – the witch realized that would serve no useful purpose, since Octavian was a focal point of loyalty for the power of the empire and may be manipulated in other ways at some future time so as to gain control of his empire. She also felt that her womanly desire was still alive within her, and she was not inclined to destroy such an extraordinarily attractive man before she could have another chance to try to seduce him, albeit using a different strategy.

  “I apologize for taking your time, Your Imperial Majesty,” Fallavakara said, gritting her teeth. She continued, saying: “I had heard of your marvelous countenance and wished to see for myself. My own eyes now see the excellence of your appearance, and so it is confirmed for me. I will take no more of your time.” Fallavakara then turned to leave the throne room and the palace.

  Octavian walked from the halfway point of the staircase back up to the pedestal supporting his throne. He sat back down and returned to gazing into a crystal, wherein he saw his own delightful reflection. Octavian also drank anew of the waters of the Trerada Ocean from his own vial, which was covered with the classical symbols of health and beauty. He was thereby energized, and his handsome looks and robust health were thus continued.

  ~~~

  Fallavakara traveled from the palace to the edge of the nearby village where she lived in a small wooden building. She entered the building – which admitted little light through tiny windows – and then proceeded to enter an even darker inner room, sealing a door behind her, creating a nearly pitch black environment. She took a vial of water from around her neck – a vial with a blade at the bottom that made it both a container for liquid and a deadly stabbing weapon known as a dagger-fount – and drank the waters of the Zovvin Ocean from it, becoming energized. Then, the witch knelt down and lit a small candle which brightened up the room. After this, she used its flame to light a different candle – one which was black and cold to the touch, and which burned with a flame that gave off an aura of darkness, rather than of light – so that the room was more than perfectly dark, despite the first candle she lit.

  ~~~

  Outside, in the sky above, a tiny dark sliver appeared upon each of the seventy (70) suns – the nine (9) large, hot blue suns; the twenty-four (24) medium, warm yellow suns and the thirty-seven (37) small, cool red suns – each dimmed just a small amount, losing a tiny amount of light and heat. This was noticed by a few careful observers – those who drank the waters of the Atrejan Ocean and were sensitive to the suns – but they had no understanding of the cause.

  ~~~

  Fallavakara then held up her arms and began to speak: “I seek thee, Demon Lord Gadamalto, Master of Spirits in the Maelstrom of Vengeance. The beauty of the mortal prince is from the immortal source. His health from the waters of the Trerada Ocean is too great to be stricken by a curse; his heart is too hardened to love any but himself. I could not tempt him with my feminine form, for his ego is too strong and his soul too conceited.”

  Gadamalto’s deep and demonic voice – emanating from the bottomless pit of the place of torment in the spirit world – answered the witch and made her tremble with fear at his power, as he said: “This is troublesome, and your failure shall be counted against you, little witch. Yet, I am not surprised. Octavian’s ego will lead him to ruin; he will yearn for no woman, and no woman can be his temptress, or carry his bloodline. He has seduced himself, and by himself, he will find death.”

  Fallavakara was disappointed, as she was hoping the Master of Spirits would offer her a powerful form of assistance, so as to use her to overtake Octavian’s empire for himself, and let her have a taste of the flesh of the imperial prince in the process.

  Fallavakara then extinguished the candle that gave off an aura of darkness, and the ordinary candle that gave off light once again illuminated the room.

  ~~~

  Outside, in the sky above, the tiny dark sliver disappeared from each of the seventy (70) suns – the nine (9) large, hot blue suns; the twenty-four (24) medium, warm yellow suns and the thirty-seven (37) small, cool red suns – each regained the tiny amount of light and heat they had lost moments ago. This, too, was noticed by the same few careful observers, who still had no understanding of the cause.

  CHAPTER 7: Rise of Advisors

  The Imperial Prince Leonides ruled over the northern region of the empire in the continent of Ihalik. He sent spies to the southern region to inform him of the activity and palace intrigue of his brother, the Imperial Prince Octavian. When he was given the report of Octavian’s conceit, Leonides thought to himself: “If my brother is distracted by his own vanity, he will not notice while I begin to grow in power. I will expand my own empire with focus, and his own empire will wither for lack of attention, as he stares into gemstones at his own reflection. Furthermore, as Octavian drinks of the waters of the Trerada Ocean, he receives o
nly ordinary health and longevity, so his reign will not last. Since I drink of the waters of the Ursegan Ocean, my years will number in the hundreds, or the thousands, or even the tens of thousands.” At this, he drank anew of the waters of the Ursegan Ocean from the vial that hung on a chain around his neck. The vial was covered in the classical symbols that denoted the passage of time, and the water within energized Leonides so that the flow of time slowed within him, and his physical aging progressed very slowly.

  However, the advisors of Leonides also knew of the report and of Octavian’s conceit. The chief advisor, Lycaon, reasoned thusly: “If Octavian is obsessed with his own glory and handsome appearance, he is no ally to his brother, Leonides. We can strike Leonides down and take this empire for ourselves without fear of vengeance by Octavian.” Lycaon was quite clever and devious, and he drank the waters of the Medathero Ocean to multiply his intellectual powers and become even more clever and devious.

  Lycaon and his subordinate advisors conspired and assassinated Leonides by poisoning him with the waters of the Medathero Ocean – whereas Leonides was waterbound to drink of the waters of the Ursegan Ocean – when he was thirty-four (34) years old. Leonides immediately suffered from crixalethicis – the disease caused by crossing two or more of the sacred waters in the body of one person – and his organs melted within him, killing him in a matter of minutes. The body of Leonides was disposed of in the swamps. Then, the advisors assumed command of Leonides’ northern empire for themselves, with Lycaon taking the throne. Word of this death traveled through Ihalik in every direction, due to the work of many spies and couriers.

  ~~~

  One of Imperial Prince Octavian’s own spies was a twenty-eight (28) year old woman named Monica, who drank of the waters of the Ikkith Tar Ocean, thus giving her the power to create darkness and hide under its cloak. She suddenly emerged out of the darkness and appeared in his throne room in the palace of the southern region of the empire. Monica stood at the base of the steps leading up to the pedestal that held Octavian’s throne.

  “Your Imperial Majesty. I have a report,” Monica said.

  “Who are you that I should trust you?” Octavian asked without looking up – he was still staring into a gemstone, admiring his own looks.

  “I am Monica, a trusted informant, serving the throne under the direction of your chief advisor, Cassius,” Monica said.

  “What is your report, Monica?” Octavian asked, glancing in her direction once, and then returning his attention to the gemstone.

  “I bring ill news, Your Majesty. Your brother, Imperial Prince Leonides, has died,” Monica said.

  Octavian did nothing upon hearing this news except to continue to stare into his gemstone and admire his own reflection more intently.

  “If there is any comfort I can give to you – anything at all – I am at your command. There is nothing I would not give to you, Your Majesty. It would be my greatest honor to serve you,” Monica said. She slowly walked up the steps toward the throne as she said this. In fact, Monica desired Octavian and even lusted for him. She had chosen her waterbinding and joined his corps of informants to be closer to the stunningly handsome Imperial Prince.

  Octavian glanced up at her, seeing that the woman had even leaned in toward him, and her body language suggested an invitation. He knew what it meant, and delighted in the offer, yet had no intention of accepting. “You have served me well, Monica. I have heard what I needed to hear, and seen what I needed to see. Dismissed,” Octavian said.

  “If you wish for additional services, Your Majesty, I will avail myself at any hour,” Monica said. She then disappeared under the cloak of darkness again, disappointed that the deliciously handsome Imperial Prince did not take advantage of her offer at that very moment.

  Octavian forgot Monica even before she vanished. He did not forget, however, what she had said. It was a reversal of fortunes.

  Octavian was actually quite pleased with the news of Leonides’ death. Leonides was at one time handsome, while Octavian was disfigured and had the “face of death,” as his deformity was called more than once. Now, he had the living and handsome face – and was admired by his people – whereas Leonides permanently had the true face of death, in the grave.

  The enticements by the women merely confirmed what Octavian already saw in the reflective, high-quality gemstone into which he stared. That crystal – and others like it – allowed him to see that his own face was now so well formed that it was worthy of a sculpture: it was the absolute opposite of the disfigured face of his youth, which brought him scorn and shame within the palace walls. Leonides’ handsome appearance had brought him admiration, especially in comparison with Octavian’s disfigurement.

  Sculpture was exactly what Octavian now intended, and his likeness would be made even larger than the infamous colossal statues of the warriors from the Ahitan and Jenaldej Empires. Ships passing by the coasts of Ihalik would see these monuments to Octavian, and they would announce his splendor and his empire.

  Octavian called for a captain of the guards, saying: “Captain, summon to me the finest sculptors in all the empire, both north and south.” Within days, twenty-one (21) of the greatest artisans – all of them being masters of bending stone and crystal – were assembled before him.

  The captain of the guards announced their arrival, saying: “Your Imperial Majesty, the very finest of your artisans are here before you.”

  Octavian stood up from his throne and then walked halfway down the steps leading from the pedestal to the throne room floor, so that he could be clearly seen. He commanded the artisans, saying: “I hereby commission my likeness to be carved of stone and crystal, and on such a scale that it stands above even the colossal statues of the warriors of the Ahitan and Jenaldej Empires. It shall guard our eastern port…forever. When it is completed, another shall be built, and then another, until the largest ports – on every coast of this continent – each has a monument that announces and gives honor to me.”

  The most experienced and famous of the artisans – a fifty-nine (59) year old man named Iacchus – replied, saying: “Design shall begin immediately, Your Imperial Majesty. Each of us shall work together, to represent your greatness for all to see.”

  “I await the work that will be proof of your excellence. My own has already been established, so the trueness of your sculpture shall be the measure by which you are paid. You are dismissed. Begin work at once,” Octavian said.

  The artisans then left the throne room and the palace, setting out to create the sculptures. Each of them drank the waters of the Kazofen Ocean from their vials, enabling them to control crystals and stones. They used the powers from the waters to design and sculpt fitting monuments to Octavian.

  ~~~

  When Leonides’ former advisors learned of these plans from their spies, they were also pleased, realizing that Octavian’s ego and self-obsession would occupy him. The chief advisor, Lycaon, said to the others: “If Octavian wants the sculptors and artists from what is now our northern empire, we will gladly relinquish them and their worthless talents. I am not troubled even if they should build Octavian’s monuments in our seaports…the overreach of his ego will be quite laughable. Our power will grow quietly and outlast Octavian’s brightly shining star, which will certainly be extinguished after a short time. His reign will amount to little more than historical monuments and useless relics, each paying tribute to a conceited fool in whose shadow we shall safely prosper.”

  ~~~

  Octavian’s three advisors – Cassius, Gregory and Nikolai – also heard of Leonides’ assassination, as well as Octavian’s grand plans to satisfy his own ego with statues, and knew that neither Leonides in his death, nor Octavian in his life, was any threat to them. They had the true power of the empire, and their power was growing, yet they continued to serve Octavian, if only to keep up appearances.

  Years passed and they continued to improve their castle constructor, until they could build castles into any shape and an
y size, on any terrain, so long as it was powered by enough of the suns and using enough crystals. They would need to collect many crystals, as the constructor would eventually burn through them and need replacements. They only needed to leave a few perfectly reflective crystals for Octavian, so that he could continue to look into the crystals to stare at his own reflection, and never notice anything they did, or how their power was growing.

  When Octavian reached the age of fifty (50), these same three advisors approached him while he sat in his throne room. “Your Imperial Majesty, we have most fortuitous news for you,” Cassius announced.

  Octavian did not look up from the clear white crystal he held, but continued staring into it and asked: “What is it, Cassius?”

  “We have a power to give you a castle more glorious than this palace in which you now live. A castle which will, throughout its very walls, reflect your greatness for all to see,” Cassius continued.

  Octavian looked up and smiled, saying: “Then you shall show me this power and build me a castle such as that of which you speak.”

  Cassius, who was now sixty-five (65) years old and as sly as ever, then said: “With all due pleasure, Your Imperial Majesty, we shall build you a great castle, and with it you shall rule, and be paid tribute in crystal, by the people in the surrounding lands. This new castle shall be in a place where no one else could build a castle, or believes a castle could be built.” Cassius intended the lion’s share of the crystal tributes to be – ultimately – for himself, rather than for Octavian, who would receive only a token reflective crystal to satisfy his vanity.