The Emperor sat in his throne room, thinking silently about the council meeting that had just concluded. Two very important houses were pulling out of his conquest to conquer the galaxy. It was a stark reminder of an ancient ancestor who was defeated because his allies withdrew, but this time it wasn't due to exhaustion - it was a deliberate slight. He felt insulted, disrespected, and weakening. He needed to find a way to rein in this raging bull before his empire divided. "Jason! Prepare a ship for Amet." "Yes, sir."

A lady stood at the top of a cliff, looking at the sun setting on the horizon - a beautiful sight she often observed from the parapet of her room at Castle Ora. Her olive-toned skin glowed in the sun's rays, and her black, long silk hair flowed down to shoulder length, glistening as if dipped in oil. These qualities were only found in the royal family of House Aishon, a house that held a certain power over the Imperial realm - "Orithium," the fuel that powered the spacecraft allowing humans to navigate their way through space.P

This power may have led her father to believe too much in himself, causing him to go against the Empire. An action that spelled trouble for her family. The action also involved her father withdrawing the fighting forces of House Aishon from the Emperor's Imperial Army. And so, Miriam stood at this cliff, awaiting the return of her House's air force and also her brother - a man who had an unbridled loyalty to the Emperor. She waited to try to pacify her brother's anger towards their father, as those two agreed on very few things. She was sure her brother would not be happy with the decision their father made.

She also contemplated the fact that her father withdrawing their house's military forces meant he expected an attack from the Emperor and would like to be ready for it. Her mind drifted back to her brother as she saw little outlines of skyliners and warships breaking through the atmosphere. The image gave her a feeling of impending war.

The Emperor walked into the large hall in the Temple on Amet, a planet entirely under the control of the Priests. A fact that he seriously disliked, as he was a man who liked to enjoy total control. A planet in his imperial realm, actively and knowingly out of his control, was something the Emperor did not enjoy. But he had to be careful, because the priests held a superficial sway over his Empire. 3000 years ago, it was said that the Son, the secondary deity, came and gave humanity 1000 years of peace before leaving, giving humans another chance. As a non-religious man, the Emperor had little faith in those fables.

As he approached the entrance of the Temple, a man in purple robes and a gold chest plate stood before him. The man had white hair and a thick white beard, and appeared to be a hundred years old, yet still stood tall. It was said that priests possessed the gift of foretelling the future; did he see my coming? The man spoke, and his voice echoed in the halls with authority. "What brings you to our Temple, Paladin?"

The Emperor tried to hide his irritation. "Your guidance, priest." The last word was said with disrespect. The Priest failed to hide his own irritation. "To my private quarters, then." The priest turned to his left, and the Emperor followed, stopping his guards in the hall. They walked down a hallway until they reached a door with words from the ancient tongue of the Priests etched on it. The priest took the keys hanging on his waist and opened the door.

The Emperor thought about how annoyingly old-fashioned the Priests were. The door opened, and they both entered. The priest closed the door behind them and spoke first. "You haven't been here since your coronation. You must be really desperate to come here for 'guidance'."

"Three houses have pulled out of my conquest to rule this Galaxy, led by House Aishon. I have never felt so out of control in my life. I need your guidance on how to handle this betrayal."

The priest looked at the Emperor with probing eyes, wondering if this was the time to reveal the prophecy of his subordinate to the Emperor. Yes, the Emperor was mentally weak and prone to making grave mistakes; now was the time.

"You're being awfully quiet, Priest," the Emperor said, noticing the priest's silence.

The priest acted as if he had just been disturbed from a line of thought. "I wonder if the two are connected."

"What two?" the Emperor asked, confused by the priest's words.

"A subordinate of mine foretold a prophecy, a very disturbing one."

"What did the prophecy foretell?"

"It is not clear."

"Tell me," the Emperor demanded.

The priest spoke, his voice measured: "From the Land of Fire, a spark shall come. In sand shall its torch be lit, that shall burn through the Galaxy till it finds its place on the seat of rule. The torch shall come from ashes wrought by envy. But the torch must go through terrible weather to stand the flame that shall come from the spark."

The Emperor's eyes widened with realization: "House Aishon."