Heroes of Darkness

XIX

CHRIS

The day was darker than usual, as the grey rainclouds overhead seemed to hide a furious wrath behind them. Chris Marsh II stood proud on the lonely sandbar next to Azumarill. They were in the company of greatness. He looked next to him and saw his mentor, Ahab, the Empress's Lord Brother, and next to him was her Holiness herself. Even under the dark clouds, her hair seemed to shine with an icy radiance.

Behind them in the sea were three of Her Majesty's warships. In front of them was the small archipelago of Pacifidlog, nothing more than a few sandy points in the dark blue sea much like the one the three Imperial Lords were standing upon. Chris could see Gyarados encircling the sandbar beneath the waves as the small boat approached them from Pacifidlog.

The Empress in all her wisdom had sought a peaceful solution to all of this. They had been in a standoff for near a week now. Chris could see the Golden Throne of Odara flying over the wooden hut that served as the town square, and next to that flag, the fiery emblem on a black field that belonged to the Brightflame family, thought to have been stamped out during her Greatness's rise to grace.

Finally, the small boat landed. To Chris's surprise, there was no military commander present, no soldier, and no single man wearing the emblems of the enemies that had taken Pacifidlog from the Empress. Instead, an old man with a walking stick emerged, and out of the water came a crumbly, ancient looking Corsola.

"It is customary to bow before your Empress, old man," said Ahab spitefully. "She is doing you great honor by honoring your request for a parlay."

"My apologies," the old man said in a rough voice. Chris's stomach twisted in anger and revulsion as the old man still did not bow. He said nothing. It was only an old man, of course.

"It's quite alright," the Empress said with a smile. Her voice was the sweet melody of a morning rain, but after her words the sky rumbled with a deep thunder. Her trident's blue orb sparkled as if there were no clouds in sight. "We show respect for our elders throughout this glorious land. I must say I'm surprised the Odarans sent no one of their own to treat with me. State your name, honored sir."

"My name is Cane," said the old man, slowly bending down to reassure his shaking Corsola. "And I am the village elder of Pacifidlog. I was born in a time before Sam Marsh's father had come into this world. I have seen many moons. I thank you for accepting me as your audience."

The Empress wasted no time. "Is it true that Chief Wake's son has been captured? Where are you holding him? Any negotiation of peace must come with my loyal servant's own flesh and blood."

"The Chief's son is no captive, I'm sorry to say" the old man softly replied. "When the Odarans came, they tied stones to his limbs and then he was thrown into the sea. I'm afraid there can be no negotiating for his release."

Chris could feel the lightning flashing behind him. The Empress' connection to the sea was legendary, and now the Young Lord Governor of Slateport was experiencing it. It was strange and chilling to him how she remained calm, how nothing seemed to bother her person.

"Most unfortunate," she said at last. She looked to her brother.

"Where are the undersea ships hidden?" he asked. Chris had heard how the Odarans had snuck up on the archipelago, and passed underneath her Majesty's security, and had taken the group of islands in half a day. Supposedly, the Odarans had made base in Pacifidlog.

Ahab had wanted to storm the island and take it back, but the Empress in all her majesty wanted to spare the lives of all the small peasants on the island. Chris had thought to himself that the lives of a few peasants were worth the message to be sent to the foreign invaders.