I watch, stunned, as the hollering man takes a blow to the side of his head and falls to the ground, disarmed in an attempt to hurry past the Soldiers and into the City Hall. The Soldier who hit him forces him back to his feet and leads the dazed man out of the congested building.
This happens to another five, ten, fifteen people before the Soldiers just give up and close the large marble doors that lead into the City Hall, breaking the views of the thousands of people waiting on the other side from witnessing the event about to unfold before us.
It’s obvious to me why these people are acting up, as I can hardly contain my own excitement. Today is the day everything in our history will change forever. For years, it’s been nothing but a distant dream to think of traveling the world and visiting all the various countries that make up The Lands. I’ve learned bits and pieces about them in school. The sandy beaches of Calamina Island; the icy, snow-capped mountains of Banisris; the crystalline streams and fanciful cities of Audrina; the wild, food-enriched forests of Kinn. These are the things my daydreams often consist of whenever my teacher drones on and on about the history and politics of our country, Nydia.
It never made sense to me though. Why teach us about other countries when we were forbidden to explore them on our own, anyway? Such a thing is considered illegal in the eyes of our government. Until now.
Before, the only chance you had of visiting another country was if your parents deported you off to work as a servant or train to be a Soldier in the Royal Castle of the designated country. That was how my mother got here. She was originally from Audrina, but now works as a servant in the Royal Castle of Nydia.
But now the Election will change even that. Because when the Council of The Lands had their annual meeting this time last year, the kings and queens signed a peace treaty and an agreement that, in order to keep justice and righteousness in our world, there would be only one to rule over all the countries. A new status quo. An emperor of The Lands. It was the only way to reconnect all of our cultures into one.
And so the Council released a poll last year for the citizens to vote on who the emperor should be, complete with descriptions and background information on every monarch in-office. I’d caught a glimpse of the poll when my father was voting. From what I saw, it looked like King Gunther, the ruler of Banisris, would be the best choice. But I wasn’t allowed to vote. I was only ten years old at the time, and the age of adulthood in Nydia is sixteen.
“Sit down, Marshall,” my father whispers. “They’re coming.”
I have been leaning over the back of my chair to watch the citizens attempt to resist the Soldiers’ restraints. But for every two people here this morning, there seems to be double the amount of Soldiers. Some had even gone so far as to sleep outside the building so they could get as close to the action as possible. But since the majority are outside and the doors are now closed, they’ll just have to watch all that happens from the screens on the outer wall of the City Hall.
I settle down in my chair and turn back to face the front end of the room, where a large podium stands and just behind it, a dais that supports a long metal table with thirteen chairs, one for every monarch and their Representative, and the Head of the Council.
I can hear the trumpets now, growing closer and closer with every second that passes. The crowd inside is growing restless, their whispers breathless and excited. Suddenly the door behind the table bursts open and about two dozen Soldiers spring into the building.
I recognize the red and gold armored vests of the Nydian Soldiers. The Royal Guardians. But not all of them are from Nydia. There’s the deep and lighter blue of Audrina, the snow-white suits of Banisris. Soldiers from all of The Lands are here today, guarding their masters against the fanatic crowds below.
Behind the Royal Guardians appear the heirs and heiresses of the monarchs. Only two faces catch my attention: Prince Dalton and Princess Vilena. They’re the closest things we have to celebrities in Nydia, and the crowd goes wild with love and adoration at the sight of them. Standing on either side of Princess Vilena are her children, nine year-old Lara and little, four year-old Myron.
The royals all sit in the very first line of seats closest to the podium, just a couple rows down from me and my family. I’m aiming to get a closer look when another round of Guardians appear followed by the kings and queens of The Lands.
The announcer, Jarvis, reads their names off a roll of parchment one-by-one as they each take their seats at the metal table. Theresa, Queen of Audrina, a tall, haughty woman with blue eyes and blonde hair that flows down to her waist. Gunther, King of Banisris, a pale man with black hair cropped short. He has the lean, strong build that most Soldiers have and holds his head high at the crowd’s cheers.
Banisris is thought to be the country where the best, most fearless and well-valued Soldiers are made, and many rumors circulated that before Gunther became King, he had been Captain of the Order of Banisris, which makes him one of the most elite Soldiers of his time.
Iris, Queen of Calamina Island. Nigel, King of Tilthin. Anayk, Chief of the Tribes of Kinn. And Tryden, King of Nydia. All of them file into the building in a perfect line, each followed by their Representative.
Representatives are sort of like the advisors to their king or queen, and they’re the ones who meet up every summer with the Council on behalf of their country. I don’t recognize any one of them.
Last to come is Chancellor Hennessey, the Head of the Council. He’s a short and stocky man with receding gray hair. He’s probably in his mid-fifties and, by the way his lips stretch taut and how his eyebrows are practically glued together, appears to be a no-nonsense type of guy. Hennessey walks past the table to the podium and positions the microphone so that he will be heard clearly throughout the building.
“Greetings, citizens of The Lands,” he begins when the crowd falls silent. His voice is deep and booming and seems to vibrate the entire building. He continues with the history of The Lands, of how, many centuries ago, they made up one great land known as Alaric, when the gods walked among us. After countless wars and the cruelty of humanity spread like a virus, the gods fled, leaving us to die off on our own.
But when humanity neared extinction, the gods had a change of heart and used the powers of nature to divide Alaric into six pieces, spreading them far and wide across the oceans. I’ve heard this story countless times in school, and I try to zone him out, but he finishes quickly. “The Election will rewrite history and restore balance and peace to our world. In the union of The Lands and the rise of the Empire, the Great Land of Alaric shall be reborn.”
The people in the City Hall are so quiet I swear I can hear them breathing. There’s a pause, and then Chancellor Hennessey continues. “Last year you all had the chance to vote in favor of who, among your current rulers, will lead The Lands into this new era. I, as Head of the Council of The Lands, have totaled and retained the results from your countries’ Representatives. So, you can expect your leaders to feel just about as anxious as the rest of you.”
A nervous laugh comes from the table, and I crane my head around Hennessey’s figure to see most of the royals laughing quietly to themselves. Hennessey even manages to pull a half-smile, but then quickly refocuses on his speech. “The emperor shall have power over all, second only to the Head of the Council, and shall direct the kings and queens of The Lands for generations to come, so that they may come together in harmony and cooperation as the gods had intended once before in our history.”
As if on cue, a thin boy with white robes comes forward to stand beside Hennessey. He’s holding some sort of box—no, a chest—and he crouches down on one knee, bows his head, and offers the chest to Hennessey. Hennessey fishes through his chest pocket for a golden key that’s so small I have to squint my eyes to make it out. He unlocks the chest, takes out whatever lies inside, and steps back, raising the object high in the air for us all to see.
A hush seems to fall over all The Lands, and I know that those people who were forbidden to come to Nydia to see this in-person will be glued to their holoboxes now, tense in anticipation of what’s to come. In Chancellor Hennessey’s hands is the most magnificent, carefully detailed crown I have ever seen. It’s made of pure gold with a gem from every Land bejeweled in a uniform line across its front side. Carved into the center of the headpiece is an intricate series of patterns that form the image of a six-pointed star. What seems to be a large eye is in the middle, with a ring connected to the ends of each of the six points.
Anyone would kill for that crown, I think. I now understand why he took the extra precautions with the key and chest. Even now I can see the royals staring at it, their faces filled with fascination and desire. All except for Anayk, who appears to be bored, maybe even a little annoyed, about this whole ceremony. And for some reason, that rubs me the wrong way. Why bother coming at all if he doesn’t care about how this will affect our futures? It’s clear by the way he glances furtively towards the door every few seconds that he thinks every minute spent here is a minute wasted.
I don’t know why, but he stands out among the royals. He has dark skin and cat eyes that stare warily out at the crowd. His long black hair is pulled back in a knot and he actually looks striking in his dark gray suit. Come to think of it, besides Hennessey, he’s the only one at the table wearing a suit. The rest of the monarchs sport tunics and fancy dresses.
Maybe it’s the odd fashion choice, or maybe it’s just because I’ve heard so many dark stories about the Kinnidian people, but his presence gives me an eerie sensation. It’s only when Hennessey starts to speak again that I finally pull my attention away from him.
“All rise,” he says, and we all get to our feet. Hennessey steps away from the podium and goes to walk around the table where the royals eagerly await. They stand in front of their chairs, and he walks past several of them, balancing the crown with his fingertips.
It’s Gunther. It has to be Gunther, I think. Because even now, I can see the knowing smirk on his face. He knows he’s deserved this. He’s just too brave, too strong, and way too famous to be passed by now.
But Hennessey walks right past him, to the very far end of the table, and places the crown on his head. “Salute your new emperor, Tryden Alexander Pierce of Nydia.”
Gender:
Points: 1045
Reviews: 2