Chapter 22: Converging Interests

The once formidable capital city of Lysandria Empire, Veleria was in chaos, much to the dismay of its ruling monarch, Emperor Draken. The vibrant atmosphere was overcast with a sense of dread, with whispers echoing through the cobbled streets about the military defeat at Clavis.

When General Torian, bloodied and exhausted, trudged into Veloria with mere dozens of his soldiers, the very air felt heavy. As they passed through the streets, citizens peered out from their windows, the weight of reality settling in.

Torian soon found himself before the grand double doors of Emperor Draken's majestic throne room. As the doors swung open, he saw a lavish expanse illuminated by golden chandeliers with rubies embedded in them. The throne, carved from a single piece of obsidian, was an intimidating sight.

Kneeling, General Torian began, "Your Majesty, I regret to report our failure at Clavis."

Emperor Draken's face darkened. "Details, General."

After a detailed report, Draken's fury was palpable. "First the insurrections, and now this?!" He exclaimed. Slamming his fist on the armrest of his throne, he continued, "If we don't act, our empire will be nothing but ashes and tales."

Feeling pity for Torian's condition, Draken ordered, "Get him to the infirmary, NOW!"

The Emperor's attention then turned to his advisers, "Summon the remaining generals."

As the four generals stood in a line, Draken's gaze bore into them. "Gentlemen, our empire is under siege. What's our frontline situation?"

General Elrik, the eldest of them, replied, "With Torian dispatched to Clavis, the frontline's a deadlock, your majesty."

Draken's voice boomed, "I want a decisive offensive. Each of you will lead an army and reclaim a city from these rebels. We must be unified to fight this Clavis menace!"

Suddenly, one of the advisers whispered, "Your majesty, the Kingdom of Arland is backing the rebels with resources."

"Damn them," Draken seethed.

Meanwhile, back in Clavis, the winds of change were evident. As Lucius oversaw the city's transformation, a hooded figure approached the palace.

Guard Lorian, a tall, muscular man with scars of battle, stopped the hooded figure, "Halt! State your business."

"I seek an audience with Lord Lucius. It's vital," the stranger insisted.

Lorian, unsure, decided to consult Erastin. The former city lord, busy with overseeing the city's arcane advancements, heard the request and emotionlessly nodded.

The hooded figure, once allowed entry, removed his hood revealing himself to be General Aleron, a once respected figure of the empire and now one of the leaders of the rebellious Lysandrian Reformation Council.

Erastin, without any preamble, instructed, "Wait at the antechamber. Lord Lucius will decide if he wants to see you."

When informed, Lucius smirked, "Ah, the rebels finally seek an audience."

In the throne room, with its walls embedded with glowing runes, Aleron stood, taken aback by Lucius's imposing aura. "Lord Lucius, the Lysandrian Reformation Council wishes to ally with you against the Empire."

He marveled at Clavis's progress. "Your feats are legendary. These arcane advancements... they're world-changing!"

Lucius, ever so indifferent, replied, "An alliance, you say? Only if the Council acknowledges me as the rightful emperor."

Aleron, with a tumultuous storm of emotions within yet a calm exterior, respectfully declined, "I fear I cannot offer that."

Lucius chuckled, "Then off you go, little general."