Stormhaze

Chapter 12: Ildron Istendil

Gillien awoke in a dark bedroom, unable to remember anything that had happened in the past few hours. Burgundy curtains draped over the windows, leaving the room engulfed in a gray haze of smoke as he sat up. The concubines lay sleeping on each side, hair strewn in every direction with their masks still attached. But just as Gillien's head was starting to clear, Edras' voice echoed in his mind 'This isn't how it should be. Not now.'

Gillien felt his heart clench and twist. He regretted everything he had done since bringing Edras to the palace. Had he ruined the relationship with his son? All he wanted was to keep Edras alive and happy, to share in the pleasures of the palace without the risk—but had only succeeded in pushing him away.

He dressed himself quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping women, and left the room. There was complete silence as he entered the hallway, not a single person in sight, only the dim lamplights. His steps echoed faintly as he began to walk, following the corridor with no clear sense of direction.

Judging by the silence, Gillien assumed it was well past midnight. He was about to follow the stairs down when he heard whispers from overhead. He stopped to contemplate—until curiosity got the better of him—and followed the sound upstairs. A towering wooden door stood slightly ajar, casting a thin beam of light piercing the darkness. Gillien knew exactly to whom the door belonged; Ildron Istendil, Kilas' father. He approached it, hearing the murmur of familiar voices behind. He carefully edged closer, making sure to keep his presence unnoticed.

"...we cannot keep waiting," a firm voice said, its shadow stretched along the floor—both unmistakably belonging to general Xianwei. "You know we cannot afford to be without a Grand Arkon in these times—leaderless—while civil war may be on our doorstep. I have received reports that renegade Mizdraki tribes are likely preparing a future raid on our nearest Ezirell refinery."

A frail, raspy voice replied. "I know, but General Brodd has guaranteed Kilas' safe return to Argead. We must remain patient."

Gillien's breath caught in his throat, and he glanced around to see if anyone else was coming up the hallway. It was still empty. He leaned in even closer, absorbing every word.

Xianwei continued unabated. "Supreme Anax, we must ensure stability and continuity. I believe Zenobia is qualified to lead us forward. She is on her way back from the city's emporium now, and has been instrumental in maintaining the peace, securing supply chains, and reallocating resources to get electricity back online. She has the full faith of the people—four of the five million people living in Argead approves of her—according to my most recent report."

There was a pause, then Supreme Anax Ildron spoke again in his frail voice. "I understand your concerns, general, but we must not forget the importance of loyalty and trust in our ranks. Grand Arkon Kilas has commanded our armies for eleven years and has their utmost loyalty. To break such a bond will take another decade to heal—time we don't have should civil war erupt between the provinces. As much as I wished it otherwise, the troops won't be loyal to you, nor my daughter."

"Kilas' talents lie in conquest," Xianwei said, "but our country and our people need stability and clarity. They need food, clean water, and shelter, but we cannot provide this as long as the armies only answer to Kilas' command."

"General Xianwei," Ildron's voice was rising, "you command the central forces in Alecaria. Why haven't you sent your troops out to help more of the citizens in Argead?"

"Supreme Anax, the order must be signed by both me and General Brodd. He threatened mutiny if we didn't give him shared authority over the central and outer provinces, but now he refuses to sign any new orders before Kilas returns to Argead. His authority here and legitimacy in Mizdrak relies on Kilas' influence."