The Beggar Alchemist

One could argue that a good emperor is benevolent, kind, and attentive to its subjects. Others would say a leader has the most chances in ruling a country with fairness and empathy. Hayden Miramond was neither.

Large velvet curtains slid open swiftly, revealing a bright morning light peeking through the high windows of his suite. Maids were trotting around the place, bringing hot water and elaborated clothes to be ready. Hayden got out of bed without a word, only gesting maids and valets to do their jobs not wanting to be bothered. He had no point speaking to commoners after all.

His face cleansed with violet water, he let it be dried by the prettiest servant he specifically chose. Without a single word uttered, Hayden was being washed, dressed and fed, without caring to thank the people working for him. After finishing his morning meal, he stood up, towering above all his retainers. Maids quickly put away the table and food, as two valets placed a mirror in front of the emperor to examine himself.

Hayden was dressed in a crimson red attire - a black shirt tangled with gold embroidery covered by a dark red suit, and an emerald shoulder cape with gilded peacock feathers. Dark pants and high leather boots finished his ensemble and he nodded in contentment. His gaze went from his tarnished blond hair to his bushy beard, wondering if he should demand to reshape it-he looked older than he thought, and it did not please him one bit. Finally the most important piece was brought to him. A crown made of pure iron forged in the heat of the First Fire.

It was simple, but its long sharp spikes rose higher than a forearm length conveyed more than fear, but respect. Meticulous hands were required to manipulate it. Easy it was to get a small wound while holding the precious object: sharp as a blade it could cut through the skin like butter. Nevertheless Hayden the Second was unbothered by some scratches, as it came nowhere near as the sacrifices he had made to ascend to the throne.

When he stepped out of his chambers, the head butler waited with a serious face in the grand hall. They both marched together, passing refined tapestries and prodigious paintings. Every single being in the palace bowed to his sight in an unnerving manner-his presence inspired respect and fear. His steps led him to an illuminated gallery where numerous marble statues were exposed. Each one of these sculptures were carved so the face would look down-even in art, all shall bow to Hayden Miramond.

The emperor walked down rooms and stairs, passed through the Imperial Garden filled with peacocks and exotic animals, and finally entered another wing of the palace where only very special meetings took place.

His butler quickly opened the ornamented door, letting the emperor in as the war council stood upon his arrival. A grand wooden table stood in the centre of the stone room, and was surrounded by four finely dressed men. One lit chandelier hung above, illuminating the place with a dim light. Hayden quickly motioned them to sit as he himself took place at the end of the table, taking a seat at a beautifully carved wooden chair.

"Milords, let us begin," he declared with a raspy voice.

"House Hatchet has begun recruiting soldiers once again, your Grace. Their forces are becoming considerable, especially after House Creswick bent the knee to Lord Eóganán Hatchet. Our mole has not yet discovered any type of plan or strategic meeting," began a middle aged man sitting on his left. He wore a deep green robe and dark flat cap adorned with a white feather, covering his short brown hair.

"Send a messenger with our fastest horse. Give him a letter stating to Lord Hatchet that his actions are not going unnoticed, and without a proper explanation of his whereabouts, will be considered a threat to the crown," the emperor responded without looking at him.

"I would suggest sending a gift, your Grace," the man in green continued with a smirk. "I reckon it might make the Lord more willing to answer thee."

Hayden took a moment to think.

"Agreed. I trust your judgement on this matter Lord Vane, choose as you see fit."

Lord Vane nodded in agreement. A portly man dressed in gold and jewels took the floor.

"Your Grace, the new taxes you demanded have all been collected as you asked. I suggest we invest in our army and city reinforcements in case the Hatchets refuse to obey."

"No. Unless they make a move, I won't," answered the emperor coldly. "I shall not waste this gold without a proper plan in mind. Ainard," he turned to a young man sitting the furthest on his left side. "How many houses are ready to aid in a potential fight?"

"We have currently four and ten houses ready to send their men at your command father."

Hayden glared at his son.

"Your Grace," Ainard corrected.

"It is not enough. Thou shalt depart on the morrow to the Larima Isles and retrieve their fleet. If they refuse, tell them I will invade them myself."

Ainard nodded.

Hayden laid his eyes on a robust man, sitting next to the rotund individual.

"Lord Fletcher. How is the new training for the infantry coming along?"

Fletcher turned to him with a pleasing smile.

"Rather great, your Grace. The cleansing of the undercity helped them wield the hammer much more confidently. I say that they are ready for a battle, if it comes to it."

"Good, have some of them ride a horse. I need more mounted forces, and if needed ask Lord Barlow here for any financial requests, I give you permission.

"Thank you, your Grace."

Lord Vane shifted in his seat, and took a soft voice.

"Your Grace. There have been sightings about an artifact, north-east from here."

Hayden looked at him, eyes wide. Everyone in the room held their breath. This was an information everyone dreaded, and could drastically change the course of this conflict. All had eyes on the puny man, awaiting.

"Even though it is only whispers, I would like his Grace to not take this information as facts. As the rumours are still vague and not yet trustworthy, we should not overthink this-"

"Speak goddamnit!" the emperor yelled, slamming his fist on the table.

Lord Vane resumed with an anxious, shaky voice.

"It has come to my attention that, presumably, the Water of Compassion has been found in Trimboli territory."

The silence that followed was filled with fear - none of them dared to look at the emperor. The Trimboli was a far older empire than Miramond's: the legend says that its lands harboured the very first men, descending from the Great One's fingers. So far the relation was cordial at best, but grew sour since the first artifacts descended on earth five years ago.

"This is not good," Hayden finally muttered. A sigh escaped his lips, and he covered his face, pensive. The Lords looked at each other in confusion, uncertain of what to say.

"We need to submit House Hatchet. Retrieve their artifact and challenge the Trimboli, as we will have significant power to stand against any nation by then. Lord Fletcher, send troops at Foghill post, I need the borders secured. Report any activity to me personally. Lord Vane I want you to find more than rumours about this matter, although vague, I am convinced they hold some truth. You are dismissed."

Everyone stood up with haste, and left the room slowly leaving Lord Barlow and Ainard behind. Noticing them, the emperor looked at them both, waiting for one of them to say a word. Ainard looked at his father, and upon seeing his annoyed gaze, decided to step out of the room.

"I will come back to you when it comes to finance, Lord Barlow," said Hayden hoarsely.

The room laid still, as Lord Barlow slowly paced around.

"I was wondering your Grace, if you had the intention to use the artifact in our possession?" answered Lord Barlow, playing around with his rings. "I am no soldier, and heaven forbid I aid in negotiations, but truth is we are on a stand by."

The emperor arose from his seat.

"You be careful with your words now."

"Your Grace," continued Barlow, "I want nothing more than to see you triumph from this. And if the Hatchets refuse any kind of agreement or provide any explanations... Make them submit. Only an idea of course, but do rebels truly have a place in the future thou art trying to build?"

Hayden remained silent. As much as he despised House Hatchet, using an artifact to implement fear was not what he had in mind. However if it comes to this...

"You are dismissed," commanded the emperor.

Lord Barlow bowed slightly.

"Your Grace."

He walked out the door without a sound, leaving a stern man to his doubts and schemes.