Stormhaze

Chapter 24: An unexpected council

It was the dead of night. Stamatis glowed a shade of dark magenta like it always did, softly illuminating the city. Gillien, Edras, and Lorin gazed up at the palace of Istendil. The gondola sailed slowly towards it, its dark silhouette seemed to grow endlessly, flashing bright from the sporadic fireworks. From the countless moving shadows of people they could hear yells, shouts, cheers, and laughter. Gillien recognized the high-pitch giggles of concubines. Convincing only to the drunkest of fucking clankers.

He felt a weight in his stomach as the gondola finally stopped by the dock. While he knew he was doing the right thing, Gillien was still unsure how all this would unfold in the end. He wasn't doing this do fight Kilas, to harm him... only to keep him from going down a path in which he could never return. Gillien could no longer simply stand idle and watch innocent blood being spilt. He only hoped Zenobia would remain out of the crossfire if his gamble fell short.

As they rose and stepped onto the dock, Gillien looked at Lorin. She was unrecognizable behind her masquerade, wearing a blue gilded dress, sewn with intricate flowery patterns. The outfits hadn't been hard to find after Tarian's expansion of the east wing. Gillien then looked at his son, uniformed like he himself was, appearing like a true loyal soldier. Eight thousand of them—and some five thousand concubines. It wouldn't feel painless, but by the three of them would blend with the crowd perfectly.

To none of their comfort, Lorin would publicly act like Edras' private concubine. Though she tried her best, Gillien could clearly see her smile never fully came to be. He only hoped her gilded masquerade and snow-white makeup would mask her well enough to not arouse suspicion. It pained him to see her like this, though, he didn't quite know exactly why yet. Only that he would never ask her to do so again.

Double-checking that his gilded general's pin sat firmly on his chest, Gillien shook open his clenched fists and nodded for the others. His heart was tugging at his chest, but they had already crossed the Rubicon, and there was no going back now. To the best of their abilities, all three presented a smile to the Etherion sentinels and walked up the stairs to enter the palace, into a large opulent ballroom.

The echoes of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the beats of music vibrated through the ornate room. Soldiers, officers, and corporate magnates alike crowded the hall, some also masqueraded to hide their true selves. A seemingly endless flow of drinks was served by Tarian's newly recruited concubines. Apart from their masquerades, they wore nothing but thin, transparent dresses, illuminated by the glows of overhead chandeliers.

As Gillien entered, he found himself stared at by countless eyes. A strange silence filled the air around him.

"Long live Gillien Thoron, the general himself!" a drunken soldier hailed as wine flew through the air, followed by an eruption of cheer that surrounded him. A path was opened in the crowd, all eyes following as Gillien, Edras, and Lorin moved deeper into the ballroom. The roaring grew louder, the sounds of celebration ever more present.

The desolation of Mizdrak's capital had not simply resulted in Kilas' overwhelming victory, but in golden plunder, perhaps exceeding the value of the palace of Istendil itself. High-ranking officers greeted Gillien with a bow, dressed in gilded Mizdraki armor, holding gold-laden swords, sharing out Mizdraki gold coins while loudly declaring it as a gift from Kilas Istendil himself.

Gold was the only currency that had withstood every Stormhaze Event so far. Only in the desert mountains of Mizdrak could it be mined, its caverns stretching deeper than any natural light could reach. Governor Brodd—who now in theory controlled the entire economy of Erylon—had been ordered by Kilas to pay each soldier ten years' worth of income in Mizdraki gold. While the palace's control over the rest of Erylon was still dubious at best, after this there was no doubt Kilas' soldiers would fight to the very end if they met any resistance to his reign.