Deathless

Deathless Chapter Three: Merciless

Chapter Three: Merciless

The Great City of Ninquelen, also known as the City of Roses, has existed for as long as the Empire, and has stood for over a thousand years. Located in the northern reaches of Arlenia, situated right beside the Arlenian Sea, Ninquelen’s citizens often found work as hired hands on trading ships voyaging from Arlenia its closest neighbor, the mountainous kingdom of Luartia, or else working as fishermen. Several rivers branched out from the Arlenian Sea nearby, the most prominent of which being the Iamanus River, the longest river in all of Arlenia, running from the Arlenian Sea and eventually culminating in a lake near River’s End, a town on the eastern coast of the empire.

Besides being the ending point of the Iamanus River, the town of River’s End was also an important landmark in Arlenia, for it was located not ten leagues away from the edges of the rebels’ territory. As such, River’s End, which had once been a bustling center of trade due to its strategic location at the center of Arlenia, now lay decimated and nearly abandoned due to the numerous attacks by the rebellion to capture it.

Nowadays, River’s End was a few buildings surrounded by ruined ones, occupied by a legion of soldiers tasked to defend it at all costs. A makeshift wall made of shattered rubble surrounded the outskirts of town, patrolled day and night by Battalion soldiers.

Emperor Iepenel thought of all of these and more as he sat in his study, facing the window with a view of the entire City of Roses, once a bustling center of trade and prosperity, now filled with citizens going about their business in silence, barely daring to speak to each other for fear of rebel spies lurking in their midst.

The civil war had truly brought Arlenia to its knees. Day after day, more citizens elected to leave their lives behind and board a ship to Luartia, where they could start new lives, free from the fear and distress brought about by the threat of Ashmur’s campaign of violence, leaving in his wake a trail of smoking ruins and slaughtered women and children.

Ashmur. The name brought with it bitter memories. He thought back to the days of his youth, when life was simpler, and Iepenel’s largest concern being whether

16or not his father would punish him for whatever mischief he and Ashmur had been up to.

Iepenel and Ashmur had been close in those days. They had done everything together, be it their lessons from the scholars in the Great Library, or replacing the helmets of the suits of armor lining the throne room with watermelons.

A smile crossed Iepenel’s face as that memory came back to him. Ah, they’d had a good laugh about that back then. They’d received a dreadful punishment from their caretaker, though. It had been worth it, though.

Then Iepenel remembered the weeks leading up to their father’s death. Emperor Arseph had buried himself in work, spending long nights in his study talking with his advisors. Arlenia was experiencing an economic crisis, as tensions were at their highest with the empire of Borras, and they had ceased all trade with Arlenia’s citizens.

Iepenel had sat in at times during these discussions; Arseph had been doing this for the past fifteen years since Iepenel turned twenty, grooming him to take over throne upon Arseph’s death.

But on the night his father perished, Arseph had been working alone in his study, and bade Iepenel turn in for the night. The next morning, he’d received a knock on the door. He opened it to find his mother in shock, her face streaked with tears. She’d told him that she’d found Arseph stabbed to death on the floor of his study.

That was the day when Ashmur and he had begun to grow apart. Suddenly, Iepenel had been forced to shoulder the burden of emperor. He’d buried himself just as his father had in his work, working desperately to keep the Empire together.

He managed to finish the program his father had begun to solve the economic crisis, and on the day he was to be officially named Emperor, he’d received news that Ashmur, leading a huge army of rebels, had taken the city of Oronthurin, and had declared war on the rest of Arlenia, claiming that the right to the throne was his and his alone.

Ashmur had recruited in secret in the year since the death of Arseph, and claimed that his claim was the rightful one, on the grounds that Iepenel was unfit to rule, and all the feats that he claimed to have accomplished in the past year had merely been the work of his subordinates, which he had taken credit for.

Iepenel placed his head in his hands as he recounted that horrific memory, when a messenger, sweaty and panting, had told that his brother, innocent Ashmur, who was a man that Iepenel would have trusted with his life, had betrayed him.

And suddenly, Iepenel was forced to take control of an Empire that was at war with itself, where its own citizens knew not whom to trust.

Iepenel would do anything to end the bloody conflict in Arlenia, but it seemed too far-fetched at this point to end it peacefully. At first, he’d hoped that he could negotiate a treaty with the rebels, hoping that he might be able to win his brother back.

But during their meetings, Ashmur had seemed to disown him as a brother, and openly opposed him and his rule. He was unwilling to subject to a treaty, and threatened to burn all of Arlenia if Iepenel did not surrender.

Ashmur and his followers had been merciless, ruthless, and bloodthirsty in their campaign, and had given no quarter to even an innocent child. So Iepenel had been forced to follow suit.

Seven years of civil war had shaped Iepenel in a way that only a civil war could, into a ruthless, cold-hearted general, unafraid to sacrifice detachments of soldiers to achieve victory. His strategies, while brilliant, depended heavily on the use of “expendable” soldiers as bait.

As such, the seven years of ruthless sacrifice and cold calculation had earned Iepenel his title: Iepenel the Merciless.

And Iepenel was proud of that title. It showed that he had grown tough over the years, and could sacrifice even those close to him for the greater good. And that was what Iepenel thought was essential in a leader, especially in times of war. He also hoped that the seven years spent as a ruthless war general would prepare him for the culmination of this war.

For this civil conflict could only end in one of two ways. He’d either have to slay Ashmur, or be slain by his hand.