Another person in Aktida was not asleep on that strange night. While the clouds of March blizzards crawled southwest into the Southern Province, stars flared above the kingdom’s capital, the city of Mainor, which stood on the bank of the wide and mighty Ilvion River, and a vast, close moon lit the path of a lone rider.

  He galloped through forests, mountains, and the countless plains of a land that stretched for thousands of miles from north to south and west to east; he rode from the Western Province with a message from the governor to the king. He had been riding for two weeks, through storms and blizzards, resting only a few hours a day and nearly killing his horse with exhaustion. He carried important news and a report long awaited in Mainor.

  That night the messenger finally rode out of the misty forests of the Western Province and descended to a high stone bridge over one of the tributaries of the Ilvion, beyond which the path led across a vast, now snow-covered plain. The bridge was shrouded in darkness; only a lone guard with a torch at its far end silently stepped aside to let the courier pass. He continued along a new road paved with stones, leading to the city’s northern gate—the only entrance.

  Guards at the walls stopped him and demanded documents. Wordlessly, the courier pulled a scroll of crested paper tied with a red ribbon from under his cloak. In the dim lantern light by the gate, a Mainor soldier untied it and scanned the signatures and seals denoting a high noble. He returned the scroll to its bearer and signaled to open the gate.

  Slowly and with a creak, the gates of Mainor swung open, letting the courier in, into the narrow, winding city streets. At the walls of the royal palace, he dismounted, tied his horse to a post, showed his documents again to the palace guards, and entered the shadowy courtyard where the bare trees of the park rustled faintly.

  Massive golden doors led to the audience chamber. It was quiet, a deep stillness lay over the palace. Even the warriors of the Mainor Legion guarding the sovereign's quarters dared not exchange a word. The courier strode quickly to one of them and presented his documents. The guards immediately snapped to attention. The courier asked:

  "Is His Majesty in?"

  "In the Golden Hall," the guard said quietly. "He ordered not to be disturbed; it’s quite possible he has already retired."

  "Go and check. And if he is still awake, report me. Say I bring an urgent message from the governor of Petista."

  The guard repeated the message and disappeared behind the doors. Five minutes later, he returned.

  "His Majesty will see you. Follow me."

  The enormous Golden Hall was shrouded in darkness, with only a small blue lamp burning in the center. Yet its light was enough to dispel the gloom in a circle of numerous chairs. In one of them, the courier saw a short, hunched figure wrapped in a velvet cloak. It seemed the king was asleep, but when the courier opened the door and slowly descended, he opened his eyes and silently looked at the night visitor.

  His long, not yet graying hair was tied in a braid at the back, and his pale, thin hands with clenched fists lay on the armrests. He was struggling, the courier thought. He had lost his father, the previous king, ten years ago—at the time, he was only fifteen and had ascended the throne immediately. And how could a young man, many times younger than most high officials, hold such a vast state together?

  Approaching the chair, the courier dropped to one knee and bowed his head. King Emerlun III gave him a stern look and said:

  "Stand up. Did the guard not tell you I wished to be alone? Who are you, and why disturb me so late?"

  "Your Majesty," the messenger answered humbly, "your guard did his duty, but the news cannot wait. I was sent by the governor of the Western Province. He has news about Nubel’s expedition."

  The king grew more alert. He rose from the chair and began pacing the hall, rubbing his hands.

  "The governor spoke directly with the expedition members, but apparently, none of them knows what Nubel plans to do with the diamond. However, he did see the diamond himself."

  "Well, and what of it?" The king stopped.

  "Your Majesty…" the courier began, then paused, then spoke again. "Your Majesty, it is… magnificent. Perfect. I was present in the hall myself, and I have never seen a more beautiful stone in my life. Your Majesty, it can and must become the pride of Aktida and… your crown."

  The king smirked.

  "Well, if Nubel is a wise man and a patriot, he’ll understand himself that this diamond is state property. Naturally, I must see it to assess it, but still, I tend to believe I will obtain it in the near future."

  "Your Majesty, I fear it’s not so simple," the courier said cautiously. "You see, the expedition was entirely and legally sponsored by Nubel. He managed to sever all ties connecting the diamond to our state, and now we can only either purchase it or seek the support of the Academy of Sciences—the only authority in the world that holds power over Nubel. You don’t know him, but he has been one of the leading figures in science for many years, with great power and wealth. It is quite possible he will not want to give up the diamond and will cite a multitude of laws that allow him to keep it."

  The king frowned, stopped, and looked off into the distance.

  "The Academy of Sciences, you say? That’s worth a try. After all, Nubel is just a man, he cannot pass laws on his own. Perhaps he has documents from the Mages' Guild… Those can be revoked through the Mainor Institute of Magic. That would tie his hands."

  "That won’t solve everything, Your Majesty."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I am conveying the words of the governor," said the courier. "He is concerned about the actions of the embassies of Vaimar and Rikutiam following the expedition’s return. As soon as they learned of the discovery, they sent their envoys to the capitals of their nations. Upon investigating, the governor discovered something curious. The fact is, both countries intend to protest the claim that the Lake of Aktida—that’s what the diamond is called—truly belongs to Aktida."

  "And do they have the right to do so?"

  "Your Majesty, there’s a discrepancy. Perhaps it’s the war from a hundred years ago to blame. After the territorial divisions, the maps of Laugdeil turned out to differ. According to our official maps, we can assume the diamond belongs to Aktida, as it was found in Aktida’s mountains. But on the Kalds’ maps, the Olmaer Ridge is already within Vaimar. Their border runs along Mount Rokastr."

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  "Is that so?" Emerlun said darkly. "That’s what they believe?"

  "Moreover, the Nocturn embassies also have grounds for claims. The diamond was found in a shrine built by their ancestors during the time they ruled Laugdeil. And lastly, the expedition included an Alven, a Kald, and a Nocturn, so by law, the diamond could equally belong to all of us. Undoubtedly, Vaimar and Rikutiam will exploit this discrepancy and attempt to seize the diamond, and they at least have the strength to do it."

  "Sit down," the king said curtly, pointing to a chair. He himself began pacing around the lamp in great agitation. His voice was quiet and weary, yet animated.

  "This is unbelievable. Outrageous. If it weren’t for the contradictions in the maps... Well, no matter. I’ll find the court geographer myself and clarify the border issue. In any case, it’s just a pretext. I haven’t seen the diamond yet, so it’s worth sending ambassadors to Nubel as soon as possible and finding out what he intends to do with the Lake of Aktida. We must also arrange a council with the King of Vaimar and the High Priest of the Nocturns to learn their demands and discuss whether they are legitimate. The World War wasn’t enough for them! No matter, if they want fresh blood, they shall have it."

  "Your Majesty, that would be unwise…"

  "Silence, messenger. You’ll see, tomorrow I’ll sort out the maps. That’s final. The Olmaer Ridge belongs to Aktida, no doubt about it, which means the sanctuary is our property as well. Which means the diamond will be ours. If Nubel doesn’t hand it over soon, we’ll have to take it by force, and to hell with all the laws. Who knows what that professor is up to. The power of science can never compare to the power of the state."

  The king fell silent and wiped sweat from his brow.

  "I think the governor should be more cautious. I don’t know what to expect from Vaimar, and I want the Western Province to prepare for a potential strike, just in case. Also, we must intensify efforts to hunt down spies. I will discuss with Maclevirr a possibility to increase the staff of the Secret Chancellery. They must tighten surveillance of the local Fighters’ and Mages’ Guilds. Yes, perhaps Nubel is also in contact with Nalvin, so we will try to infiltrate agents there.

  "I believe Nubel will soon take action, he didn’t launch that expedition for nothing... And Petista is full of Kalds, who, although they obey Aktida, could easily switch sides and sell information to the outposts beyond the Folkar’s Pass. I suppose I’ll write all this down tomorrow…" The king yawned. "You are dismissed," he said to the courrier. "Give the governor my thanks…"

  "Here’s the expedition report." The messenger quickly handed the king a thick scroll. "And one more thing. The governor questioned the guide and Mr. Lainter regarding the Petros case."

  "Well? What did they say?"

  "Either they know nothing… although we have proof they worked with him in the past. Or they’re very good at pretending. But all their statements were verified. And we still haven’t found Petros."

  "When was the last time anyone even saw this Petros?" the king asked irritably. "Maybe we shouldn’t waste so much effort on him and focus on more important matters? Maybe he’s already dead?"

  The messenger bowed.

  "The governor is simply following your orders, Your Majesty. Shall we call off the search?"

  "No." The king sighed tiredly. "I was just venting. Let Maclevirr handle it. It’s his job to track down anti-state provocateurs. Pass this part of the report to him tomorrow, and hint, on my behalf, that he should... reallocate his resources."

  "As you command, Your Majesty."

  "Good night, Sir messenger."

  Bowing, the messenger left the hall. The king was left alone. He sat for a long time in the chair, lost in thought. The clock struck four in the morning.

  Emerlun rose and hurriedly left the hall, passed through a suite of jewel-adorned rooms, and descended to an old door that led to the archives. The castle sighed softly in the dark with the creak of floorboards and doors. The archive, which stored records—chronicles, censuses, tax collection documents—also held information on the most influential and well-known people of Aktida, compiled since the reign of the current king’s grandfather. Here the king stopped, lit a candle, illuminating the dusty gloom of the basement. Candleholders shimmered on the walls, along with busts of ancient rulers and some old decrees in frames with long-faded gilding.

  He ran his hand along the card catalog and found a scroll under the letter "N."

  ‘Nubel, Count, owner of the Nubelrain estate and surrounding villages, hereditary noble. Real name unknown. Date of birth unknown. Born in the estate of Boltur near Nalvin. Son of Wilfarch Nubel, professor of alchemy at the Mainor Institute of Magic, and Resluna Tuart. In 1415 graduated from the Nalvin Mages' Guild School, in 1422 graduated with the highest honors from the Mainor Institute, Faculty of Alchemy and Transformational Magic.’

  The king whistled softly. He must’ve finished school at about fifteen or sixteen… which meant he earned a master’s degree by thirty-five. Modern academics, who usually received such a title only after fifty, could only envy him.

  "Dissertation: The Connection between Theoretical Magic and Technology Based on Magic’s Effect on the Chemical Properties of Matter. Since 1425, working with Prof. Petros, Prof. Vergilius, and Prof. Saelin. First Derelz Expedition. Since 1426, active in the Southern Province, purchased the Nubelrain estate. Expeditions focused on the study of late ancient Nocturn culture."

  At the bottom, in fresh ink from a new printing press, the latest known information had been added:

  "1452—Organization of expedition to the Olmaer Ridge, discovery of the lost shrine of Aktos."

  "Not much," the king murmured. He picked up the lamp, was about to leave, but changed his mind and resumed searching the files.

  "Petros. Real name unknown. Date of birth unknown. Born in the family estate of Dilmar, County of Sonfri, Northern Province. Son of Elban Petros, diamond magnate, and Leandra Swelle. Inherited about fifty million in gold and bonds, as well as his father’s business empire..."

  Cold sweat broke out on the king’s forehead. If true, then after his father’s death, Petros became one of the wealthiest men in Laugdeil.

  "In 1412 graduated from the Asternia Mages' Guild School, in 1417 earned a magister's degree with highest honors from the Asternia Academy of Magic, Faculty of Political Science and History. Extensive research on late ancient Nocturns. Since 1420—full Professor of Asternia Academy of Magic. 1422—expedition to the Cross Plateau. 1425—First Derelz Expedition, with Prof. Nubel, Prof. Saelin, Prof. Vergilius, and Dr. Ashley Nielder. Since 1426, wanted for anti-state activity. Residence and occupation unknown since 1426."

  The king frowned and went deeper into the archive.

  At the far end, he inserted a small, inconspicuous key into a hidden slot in one of the bookshelves. The key turned with a soft click, and the shelf slid forward and to the side, revealing a hidden passage. Down a damp stone spiral staircase, the king descended several levels into a small windowless chamber with a single table, and on that table lay one book.

  The king slowly approached, placed the candle on the side, and opened the book to the last page. The text was in two parts: on the odd lines were rows of hieroglyphs, carefully copied by hand by a translator; the even lines contained their approximate interpretation and translation. The king didn’t know the original language but trusted the linguists. Running his finger along the page, he found the passage he had last read shortly before ascending the throne:

  And a war of all against all will come upon the sublunary world, and much blood will be shed, and three great empires shall arise and divide all power among men. They will endure a hundred years in peace. But when the Lake of Aktida emerges from the shadows and lights the path, the peoples of the continent must beware. For then will begin yet another war, longer and more terrible than the last. And when that war ends, power shall change hands once more, but there shall be no more kings, nor emperors, and a new era will begin, leading our people to a wondrous new world—Elysium.

  "The Lake of Aktida," the king muttered aloud, trying to bring order to the tangled thoughts in his tired head. "The Lake of Aktida has emerged from the shadows. Does that mean it’s time to prepare for war?"

  The silence was his only answer.

  The end of Book 1.

  To be continued...

  And here, we have reached the end of Book 1! Time flies, doesn't it? But there is no time to rest! The uploads will continue with the usual schedule, so the first chapter of Book 2 will be out tomorrow!

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  Let me know in the comments what you think of the story. Have you enjoyed the final plot twist? Are you excited to know what happens next? What do you think about the characters, about the action scenes, pacing, dialogues?

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