PROLOGUE
The Imperial auditorium was buzzing with activity. There were murmurs from every corner of the large ivory and crystal hall. It was midday and the sun was only just receding for a bit and the walls gave a faint glow, reflecting what light they had absorbed from the sun. Eyes turned on the man who stood in the center of the hall. He stood alone, close to a small podium where he was standing trial: trial by the Emperor.
The man was human. He had killed a knight in a clash between the royal knights and revolutionary forces spearheaded by him. He and some of his members at the top echelon of his resistance group were caught and he would be first among them to stand trial.
The presiding judge who was mostly figurehead- as the critical decisions rested with the Emperor- turned to face the dissident before him. The wizened man's robes covered the floor before him and his sleeves concealed his knuckles as he stood in that same position and regarded the hapless accused.
Only a few seconds ago, the accused had just admitted to his crime and that was what had caused the earlier uproar. The bailiff moved to quiet the noisy crowd.
The Imperial auditorium was quiet again and the voice of the wizened Imperial Adjudicator came again in the quiet of the hall. There were about a hundred and some more courtly men and women who were seated on the cushioned luxury seats of the space. They had been agitated earlier, all hundred and something of them, courtly Elves. All except their emperor who sat at his throne at the head of the hall, on a raised podium, his dogs laying leisurely at his feet.
The hulks of monsters lay lazily on the cool reflective floor as their tongues hung open. They had huge muscular bodies and strong fore and hind limbs with black stripes over their backs. Their ears were large and flat, almost flapping when the creatures moved. Their tails were long and looked very much like ropes; like how that of a milk cow's would be, only stronger, thicker, hence, even more lethal. It took great mastery of magic to tame wilds such as these...even greater mastery to control them to do one's bidding.
"You have been found guilty Rune Sepehr," Vahorn von Freitag, the wizened Imperial judge announced to the accused. "Do you have any last words, to our dear Emperor? Perhaps he might find you worthy of mercy."
The accused raised his head up to look at the Emperor. He knew what was being asked of him: one last grovel to finally, wholly and irrefutably humiliate himself. That was what it was: to accept and acquiesce to the powers that held him chained and powerless.
"I have nothing to say to him," Rune said. "I did no wrong. I fought for what is mine and I regret nothing."
As Elves that gathered around the arena gasped and wondered about this human, the noise in the hall steadily began to rise and the Imperial Adjudicator only shook his head slowly. That was the wrong answer, but an answer nonetheless. And the Emperor took note of it. What a mistake on the rebel's part, Vahorn thought.
A small sigh then. Its origin had the Elves quieter.
The eyes of the Elves who were gathered around the auditorium turned to the Emperor, his Imperial highness, Tieran Volkov: The third Volkov that would rule the Elven colonies, after the Great Convulsion.
"What a waste," Tieran said then, his thin, pale lips moving only the slightest. He had a calm and dignified gait to him, a cold look which was an understatement of the void for a heart inside of him.
His hair, silvery and long, stopped at his shoulders, the platinum-blonde locks contrasting with the dark brows and lashes; contrasting with the dark look. His eyes were deep, yet disinterested with what was going on in front of him only because he cared little for the hundreds in the name of courtly people that bootlicked him everyday; that ooh-ed and ahh-ed presently at this rebel who dared challenge him. His gray eyes were unfeeling when he turned his sculpted face to the accused.
Anyone could say with certainty that Tieran was a stunning man, with beauty that many associated with the supernal; a sublimity that greatly contrasted with the person behind all of that charisma. But the Volkov Emperor hardly held any pretense. That was why throughout the Elven colonies, his name rang fear.
"It is true," Tieran Volkov stated, "that there is no cure for idiocy...save extinction."
There was the faint crackling that sounded all too familiar to the members of the hall, but it was light, almost deliberately so- the surprise not ready to give itself away.
Tieran's eyes held no emotion when he turned from his fingers to look at the accused. It was the depths in those eyes and the fact that those depths did not end anywhere and would only plunge anyone who dared enter deeper that made the accused have pause. It seemed many had never truly beheld Tieran Volkov.
Out of reverence, courtly and common society bowed in greeting and averted their gazes when directly speaking to him. But Rune was a rebel- the Elven rules did not bind him. He stared. He stared at those eyes and regretted it. Such potency those two pools had that the first trepidation Rune had felt in a long while since his trial began, started to tell on him. A bead of sweat slid slowly between his eyes.
He could see how much feeling was not in those eyes as he stared. Tieran would make an example out of him and would forget it the next minute. That was how immaterial he was; his death would not make Tieran think. Forget regret or grieve, Tieran would never have nightmares about having killed him, just like the rest that had gone before him- the rest who had opposed Tieran Volkov.
It was true what they said about the Emperor.
"Can you run?" Tieran asked then.
" I beg your p-p-pardon?" Rune asked, taken aback by the question.
"Run," Tieran said. And the faint crackling like wood being ignited came again.
And then they saw it...the small purple-gold glow on the fingers of both Tieran's hands as they stroked the two wild dogs at his feet who salivated non-stop. "Kill."
Rune's cries echoed in the auditorium as the dogs ran after and pounced on him, claws and fangs bared. And then they dove down to devour him in the most ghastly and horrible way. Blood splattered on the marble and limestone floors as the wild dogs sank and removed their teeth in tempo, taking out flesh and displacing it.
In a few minutes it was over and all that was left was the mangled corpse. The auditorium which had been quiet since the emperor started talking maintained its quiet, chilled by the events.
"Get a messenger," Tieran said then. "Make sure they all know what happened here today. Rebels will not be tolerated."
"Yes, your majesty."