The Aeterna Empire

Chapter 1 - The One Who Remembers

I remember the old days, even if no one else does.

In the wake of the resources, with fertile land and massive herds, with fresh water and fish colored with all the rainbow, with gentle rolling hills and a warm sun, people have forgotten the struggle. The struggle created necessity and purpose to force growth and maturity not only as peoples, but as individuals.

The Ne-Blood tore themselves apart, salting their own country into oblivion, and so became hardy and distasteful for bloody war, newly grown in seeking replacements for conflicts among their factions. They bore the greatest philosophers of the age, the toughest workers and inventors, and their ingenuity with limited resources was unmatched.

The North Ire's ingenuity, as the Ne, was of limited resources. The resource in question being space. A mountainous land, they needed to use what they had to its fullest and organize every space. They were of family, unable to do anything alone with generations living together and bonding together, and despite the difficulty went out of their way to work together as city states into something larger and cohesive. Social graces and community was everything on a micro and macro level, because they knew they could do nothing alone.

The South Ire did not have the same problems as the others as the land was good, but they were forced to share their land with the most peculiar of people, the Soran-Blood. The Soran were rumored to be the strongest and unmerciful by far, but thankfully not territorial and content with themselves when unprovoked, this made a need of respect, understanding, and cooperation from the Ire-Blood for concepts and people's utterly alien cultures. The greatest diplomats were raised there. Raw empathy.

An empathy I wish my blood had shared. The vain Kes-Blood, blessed with everything. We won every skirmish and war in our history since Ref, our rival, collapsed into the sea. This puffed up our hearts. We toyed with lesser powers for our amusement and restrained ourselves from nothing. In our hedonism a humbler came in the form of our own god and brought us low. We should act as a warning, but as I watch, I think the lesson lost.

No one remembers.

"What do you think, tapeworm?" A Ne-Blood asked. I recognized him as among the Empire's generals formlerly. Unfortunately, he recognized me too. He took me by the arm, dragged me over to where a group of them were boasting and drinking.

There was enough barrels of alcohol to erect a play-fort if they were so inclined. In fact they had made a wall out of the barrels and put up a canvas of art on it. The one to drag me here, motioned to the art, and repeated himself, "What do you think, my king Tapeworm?"

In the rush of being dragged I had spilled some of my drink on myself. I cleared my throat, put my goblet down on a stable surface, and examined it loosely.

On the canvas was a great deal of red splattering around the frame of a man confined to a chair. The canvas, unlike most, had distinctive wrinkles that brought the man to life before our eyes. In my eyes, I could see his struggle to live as he bled and was tortured, but was caged to his chair.

One of his companions asked, "Tapeworm?"

"Sure, he is so skinny! See?" To prove his point, he took my hand and waved my arm around roughly. I did not resist him and let him use me as a toy. His friends laughed. "But what do you think, oh kingly of the pigeons?"

A Kes-Blood being referred to by a thief with wings that struts about proudly bobbing its head. Yeah, like I haven't heard that before only a million times.

"He looks more like a sea gull that was too stupid to know you shouldn't take fish from bears. Look at that ugly as sun ear. Wouldn't sell for a fish on the market."