Prologue The Autarch and The God Emperor

The shadowed courtroom hushed, and the Kryptea king hung his head low as Grand Lord Matise stood.

“Bring him in,” he called from the head of the table. The drop hub, a floor deployed from one of the Pillars, had been dropped a few hours previously. At the back of the dimly lit room, in its centre, stood the stone cresting moon-shaped table, with the Grand Lord seated in the middle and the eight remaining House Heads flanking him on either side. Nervous whispers fluttered through the hall. Matise had arranged this like a trial. Lady Anna Serifine, Grand Lady of the Serifine House and one of the three Grand Lords, raised her hand gently, trying to quiet the tension.

Locne, Head of the Hulfean House, was leaning against the right wall, arms crossed, watching the room unfold. He saw the unease in the postures and faces of the House Heads and even in the three Grand Heads. None of them knew what was about to happen next.

Grand Lord Matise cast a glance towards Locne, hoping his seer’s eye might offer insight. But Locne gave nothing in return. He would do it anyway, not out of orders, but out of curiosity. He also wanted answers.

Locne glanced to his left where the Krietz King knelt. The Homeworld King of the Kryptea. His reddish skin unmarked. A great shame in Kryptean culture. They were a people of war, proud and hardened. His shaved head hung low, and his eyes were closed to his reflection in the highly polished black floors. He had been the one to surrender. The first Kryptean King to ever do so. The first who had ever needed to.

His army waited silently outside the drop hub. Jugen Krietz would soon request death, it was the Kryptean way. But he didn’t know the Autarch well enough.

Behind Matise, standing silently like Locne but unable to deflect the stares drawn to him, even in the shade of the corner, was Xious. A tall, bald, and powerfully built man, with deep sunken eyes, a sharp jaw, and a regal nose. He caught Locne’s gaze. He didn’t wear his usual cunning smile. Not even he had expected what had just happened. He too had been forced to bear witness, as he was denied from the battle of two. It was the first time Locne had seen a crack in his mask.

After a collectively held breath, a young boy entered through the open doors of the drop hub, flanked by two House Matise guards. Their armour glinted in the dim light, with shining metal-plated helmets concealing their faces. The scent of fire and dirt still clung to him.

The boy was barefoot, still wearing the deep blue robe cloth of his people, which was now torn nearly to rags, though he bore no wounds. He was no older than fifteen. The Sha-En did not use the age-extending methods of the Houses.

Even with Locne’s eye, the only remarkable thing about him was how unremarkable he seemed. There was nothing to this boy at first glance. Nothing special in the dark hair, which looked to have been treated with fine oils and trimmed to maintain a certain grandeur. Nothing in his slight, youthful build. Not even a hint of resonance that Locne could detect. As though he wasn’t there at all.

But when looking closer, one could tell that this was no ordinary child. It was in his eyes, and in what he had just done, something that caused a room with the most powerful people in the galaxy to recoil and chitter in his presence.

It was as though black holes rested within the sclera of his eyes. Giant pupils consumed the space where irises should have been. Like looking into a void, like staring into the edge of nothing. In all Locne’s millennia, he had never seen eyes like those.

Four pale blue dots lined the top of the boy’s left eyebrow, marking him as a Jinn, the highest rank of advisor within the Sha-En. A title that superseded all others. More cosmic guide to the Sha-En, rather than a person or leader. The Jinn were beings of thought and reason, meant to direct the Sha-En toward the Renma Elish. The end of everything. Not a morbid end that the Sha-En wished for or a nihilistic end. Simply the end.

The Jinn were their compass through life, guiding them steadily toward the inevitable end. This boy was no warrior, no soldier. He was a philosopher, a spiritual being. A seer. A gentle whisper in time that offered the path. He would have been revered for his reason.

So, how had he just killed the king of an army who valued strength and military might above all things? The Gilga King of the Kryptea. The War King. The counterpart to the Homeworld King who kneeled before the House Heads now, awaiting his punishment.

Locne watched Xious, who lifted his chin but kept his eyes fixed on the boy with keen focus. Locne suspected he had heard the same rumors, the Sha-En child who could see through the universe. The boy who understood truth. Locne had always thought it was just a story. He wondered if Xious had thought the same.

“What is your name?” Matise asked in the still room. His words echoed in the dark court. No one dared make a sound. They just watched. The boy looked up, those black eyes of his unfocused, as though he were blind.

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“Muran Ulduch, Grand Lord” he said calmly.

Locne focused his seer’s eye, watching as the Resonance in the room drifted around, intermingling. The House Head’s energies twisted with anxiety and anger, curling through the air. But it did not interact with the boy. It didn't even touch him.

“Muran Uldoch,” Matise began, nodding in acknowledgement, “First, we, as the Heads of the Eleven Houses, and on behalf of the Autarch himself,  express our deepest regret for the loss of the Sha-En. Lady Kalayeha was a valued member of our table, and the Sha-En were beloved by us all.” He shifted slightly. “I will mourn her,” he added, earnestly.

Locne knew it was true. Matise had admired Kalayeha. They all had.

The Grand Lord straightened, his expression hardening ever so slightly as his eyes flicked to the last remaining Kryptean King.

“The Kryptea acted alone in this,” he said. “I would like you to know that.”

“I am aware,” Muran replied, voice level, calm. An unsettling calm. A calm that seemed to press against the room itself. Suffocating. Even Matise cleared his throat, as if to push back against it.

“The Kryptea will be punished with servitude for the crimes against your people. I ask that you bear them no ill will for following the orders of the Gilga King.” Locne saw Jugen Krietz, the Homeworld King of the Kryptea, lower his head further. He would not be granted his wish. His people would be condemned to slavery for following the Gilga King, and the Krietz King would be sentenced to the same fate.

“I will not,” said the boy. “I have punished the one responsible.”

Matise tilted his head slightly, and the other Heads shifted.

“That was punishment on Orus Gilga?” Matise asked, his brows rising with surprise. “Muran Uldoch, with all respect, I question your right to punish a House Head, a King of the Kryptea”

“Yet, Grand Lord Matise, you give me the right to forgive them”

The Heads shifted uncomfortably. Locne noticed Ursul Kave, Head of Artelis, begin to protest, only to still as Grand Head Anna Serifine placed a calm, steady hand on her arm. Serifine had been expecting this it seemed. Matise took a moment.

Across the room, Locne turned his seer’s eye on Xious. The man was smiling. His resonance guard was up, tightly woven around his mind. He was shielding himself.

Locne watched as the resonant energies around the boy still did not touch him.

Had Xious reacted to something that the boy had done?

“You will not be charged for the murder of Orus Gilga”, Matise said, his voice steady, unwilling to backtrack. “It is seen by the Houses as a just action for the genocide of your people. Instead, in an attempt at reparations, the Autarch has asked me to extend his hand. With the loss of Lady Kalayeha, of the Sha-En” he continued, slipping into the formal cadence required when speaking the Autarch's words, “We invite you, as the last Sha-En of Tlon, to take the seat of House Head.”

Locne knew it was coming, but detested it more as he heard it. The greed of the Autarch. Not only would he bind the Kryptea from mere loyalty, into absolute submission, but now he would also wield the power of this boy. The boy who could kill a Gilga King.

“Thank you, Grand Lord Matise”, the boy said, slightly bowing his head. “But I must refuse”.

Xious smiled.

Matise looked taken aback and Locne could see the offence from the House Heads. How dare a boy decline their generous offer? The highest station a person could attain, rejected.

Locne heard their thoughts, felt their indignation swirl like static in the air. The boy had turned down their highest achievement.

He looked at the boy, truly looked and felt only awe.

“Bel will come”, the boy said, his voice echoing in Locne’s mind.

It startled him, jolting him from his thoughts. He saw a stream of resonance coming from himself that latched onto the boy. The boy was using Locne’s resonance, just as he had on the battlefield, with all around him.

“This was a strike against the god-emperor. The Sha-En were still his people. He will retaliate”.

The boy didn't even glance at him as he spoke into Locne’s mind. No one had ever been able to penetrate his mind before. Not in ten thousand years had a soul been able to manipulate his resonance. Not even the greatest of Sha-en.

Until now.

“I must say that I am surprised by your…” Matise began, but was drowned out.

“This was orchestrated” Locne sank into the words that came, even as he attempted to fortify himself. “They have called war with Bel”

Locne’s eyes flickered toward Xious, whose smile only deepened as he looked at the boy.

“You know this?” Locne asked, speaking into his own thoughts.

“I am Jinn, Grand Lord Matise. It is not my place to rule”, the boy replied out loud.

“Yes,” the boy said to Locne. “This was designed”.

Locne wanted to drop his head at this. He somehow knew that it was true. The words of a Jinn were always true.

He had feared this. That this was no mere act of lunacy by a misguided War King, but a calculated plot to force war with the only power that still stood alone in the galaxy outside of the Houses.

Drawing the Bel and the Masma into war? That was beyond anything that Locne could have imagined. It was something that he had actively tried to deter for centuries.

It would rip the galaxy apart.

“I believe that a Jinn would be the perfect candidate…”

“Why are you telling me this?” Locne asked, his eyes fixed on the side of the young boy's face as he continued to converse with Matise. His black pupils cast against the white sclera, never wavering from their distant gaze.

“Because, God of War, you are not yet prepared for him”