King Magnus stood at the grand entrance of the chamber in Sirco, surveying the room before him. The vast hall was imposing, with banners of each of the 24 districts hanging proudly from the high ceiling. This was the gathering of the most powerful people in Arenthia, and yet, something was amiss. His gaze swept over the long, ornate table, where each Duke had their place. Out of the 24 seats, seven remained empty.
"This proves me right," the king thought to himself, his suspicions confirmed. "They dare not show their faces here."
The absence of these Dukes was a clear message—a silent rebellion in motion. But a nagging question remained: could he trust the ones who had come? Or were some of them playing both sides in this dangerous game? He knew there was only one way to find out.
Magnus strode forward, his royal robes trailing behind him, the quiet rustle echoing in the silent chamber. He took his seat at the head of the table, his expression stern. All eyes were on him, but there was a tension in the air, a sense of unease.
The king broke the silence with a booming voice, "It seems we are short a few seats today."
The Dukes exchanged glances, whispering among themselves. The absence of seven was not something that could be easily ignored.
"Does anyone know where the rest of the Dukes are?" Magnus's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that sent a chill through the room.
The assembled Dukes remained quiet. Some shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. They were all powerful in their own right, ruling their districts with an iron fist, but they had never seen King Magnus like this—fueled by righteous fury.
"I see," Magnus said, his voice rising in intensity, "not everyone answers to the king's orders anymore." His gaze swept over the room, locking eyes with each of the remaining Dukes. "Is what I say not important? Do my commands no longer hold weight in my own kingdom?" His voice echoed, filling the vast chamber with a dangerous, palpable energy.
The tension in the room thickened as the king's displeasure became evident. Then, with a deep breath, King Magnus leaned back slightly in his chair, his voice now calmer, but no less powerful. "We are gathered here today because I have come across disturbing news."
A murmur rippled through the hall. The Dukes shifted once again, many already suspecting what was to come.
"The news is this: several of our fellow Dukes are behind a rebellion that is already spreading across Arenthia. Their forces have been moving in the shadows, plotting to overthrow the throne. They think they can sow discord in this kingdom and rise against me." Magnus paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And now, as I stand here and look upon this empty table, I see my information was correct."
The room was silent once again, the weight of the king's words heavy in the air. Magnus looked out at the Dukes before him. "Seven Dukes are missing from this meeting. Is this a coincidence?" He shook his head, his jaw clenched. "I think not."
The tension hung like a storm cloud over the room. Magnus let his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
"Before the end of this meeting, I will require each of you to swear allegiance to me once again. I need to know where each of you stands. You will publicly reaffirm your loyalty to this kingdom, to its people, and to me as your king."
A murmur broke out among the Dukes, their voices rising in discussion, some debating their next steps, others offering suggestions on how to handle the situation.
Duke Vidar Icefang from the northern Frostspire, his cold, steely gaze meeting the king's, was the first to speak. "Your Majesty, if there is indeed treachery afoot, we must act swiftly. The missing Dukes may already be positioning their forces. Waiting too long could give them the upper hand."
Several other Dukes nodded in agreement, but Duke Elion Dawnstar of Crystalkeep spoke up next. "We must be cautious, Your Majesty. An aggressive response could push even more Dukes to join this rebellion. We need to isolate the traitors without turning the rest of the kingdom against us."
As the discussion continued, King Magnus remained silent for a moment, listening to their words. Then, in a commanding tone, he interrupted. "Enough."
The room fell silent once more.
"I will require each of you," Magnus continued, "to contribute 50% of your military forces to support the crown immediately."
A stunned silence followed. The Dukes looked at one another, their faces betraying shock and disbelief.
Duke Torin Stonehelm of Ironridge, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a voice as deep as the mines his district was famous for, was the first to object. "Your Majesty, if we do this, we leave ourselves vulnerable to attacks. You weaken our defenses and make it easier for these rebels to strike!"
Others nodded in agreement. Duke Raelyn Firesong of Emberglow, always quick with her words, spoke next. "With respect, Your Majesty, stripping us of half our forces could result in you losing more than one district. The rebels will see us as weak, and they'll strike while we're exposed."
Magnus's expression darkened. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a loud sound reverberated through the room. It was a sharp, metallic crash, followed by shouting from outside the doors.
All heads turned toward the large double doors leading into the chamber. There was a brief silence before they burst open. A palace guard, breathing heavily and covered in dust and blood, stumbled into the room. His face was pale, and there was a sense of panic in his eyes.
"Your Majesty," the guard gasped, trying to catch his breath. "We are under attack!"
The room erupted into chaos. The Dukes jumped to their feet, shouting orders to their guards. Magnus stood slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he processed the sudden turn of events.
"Who is attacking us?" the king demanded, his voice sharp and commanding.
The guard struggled to stand upright, clutching his side. "It's the rebels, Your Majesty. They've breached the city's defenses. They've already made it past the outer gates."
The king's eyes narrowed, his heart pounding in his chest. So, it had come to this—the rebellion had arrived at their doorstep, daring to strike in the very heart of the kingdom.
Duke Varya Emberwyld, her fiery red hair matching the temper of her magic, stood tall, her hand already glowing with flames as she prepared for battle. "Then let them come," she snarled, her eyes blazing. "They will regret attacking the heart of Arenthia."
Magnus raised a hand to silence the room. The chaos subsided as everyone turned their attention back to the king. His voice was calm, but beneath the surface, there was a boiling rage. "This rebellion will not stand," he declared. "We will crush them, here and now."
As the sounds of battle grew louder outside, King Magnus took one last look around the room. The empty seats, the faces of the remaining Dukes, the tension in the air—it all came down to this.
The future of Arenthia was about to be decided.