Fogbound: Echoes of Oniro Book One by N.J. Alexander

Author:N.J. Alexander [Alexander, N.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

Interlude

General Rikard

5 years ago

Whenever Isyonesa crowned a legitimate monarch, the renowned General Rikard was seated in front. At today’s coronation, he sat in the back.

A new ruler chosen to further Emperor Kandhiran’s agenda, and to spur civil war again, no doubt. Such was the fate of all the continent of Telurdia’s cities, to appoint a puppet ruler, with the title as a mere formality.

Representatives from each of the six cities across Telurdia served as witnesses. They all sat about the crowd gathering in front of the castle, now blanketed a bloodred hue below the Telurdian sky’s red rays.

They murmured incoherently, though likely shared similar thoughts to the general. Telurdia’s capital city was to be subdued under the fist of a hand-picked official bearing no governing experience.

All General Rikard knew about his new liege was her name. Kiara. A queen. Isyonesa had not been ruled by a queen in all its recorded history.

She stood upon the stage—too young, too inexperienced to rule. But perhaps the perfect candidate to mold into whatever woman the Emperor required her to be.

The impatient rumblings of the assembly soon faded, and General Rikard sighed and fidgeted in his chair. The ceremony was to begin now.

He craned his neck with the crowd. From the left, the man with the bloodred-robed hood, who always concealed his face, carried the Isyonesan crown. Emperor Kandhiran’s Disciple, the one who poisoned the Emperor’s mind with honeyed words many years before. Some had alleged him to be a sorcerer, and claimed sightings of flame and other Pariah Arts.

General Rikard shrugged. It was possible. He scratched at his beginning-to-grey beard and ran a hand down his dark brown cheek.

But the true question of the day: would the old emperor show his face, at the coronation for his own capital city? The general looked about in all directions, straining his eyes, and squinting at every corner for a sighting. He sighed when his searching came up empty.

He turned around in his chair, staring back in the direction of Emperor Kandhiran’s Castle, where the continent’s ruler resided and never left. He did no visits, took no counsel.

The general clutched the lush black wood bow over his back, careful not to tangle the bowstring and ran his fingers over the intricate patterns and designs in various squares, triangles, circles, and more. To have one shot at Kandhiran was all he desired—and all he needed—to end this senseless turmoil.

But Kandhiran’s Disciple reached the stage. Though his long robe stretched down to his feet, General Rikard never saw legs lift.

The soon-to-be Queen Kiara bowed, no sense of fear anywhere upon her young face. General Rikard smirked—was she fearless, or too naïve?

He chuckled to himself. A general of a city but taking commands from a fake queen whose only tasks were the bidding of an emperor he desperately wanted dead.

Kandhiran’s Disciple placed the crown upon the new Queen Kiara’s head, and she stood, raising an arm to greet the crowd. A subdued clap spread about the audience—nervous, terrified of their future.

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