Rebirth System: Blood and Ash

The Imperial City of Valeria.

The Sacred building—the Imperial Court of the Senate.

The Senate Hall was vast and grand, its stone pillars lined with torches that flickered softly, causing dancing darks across the room.

Men of power were gathered here, their expressions guarded, their postures tense. At the center of it all, seated on a high throne of gold and velvet, was Emperor Xavier Valerian, his face unreadable as he listened to the proceedings before him.

The Speaker stood in the middle of the room, his voice the only sound that broke the quiet.

"We all know why we are here," he began, his tone calm but firm. "Word has come from Byzeth that the Fourth Prince shall make his return to the capital soon… and we must decide how to approach this event."

A murmur rippled through the assembly, and then a man rose swiftly from his seat, his face twisted with disdain.

He was one of the Senate lords—known to be tied with the third prince, a man of noble birth and proud standing, dressed in the finest silk and brocade, the symbol of his house drawn upon his chest like a badge of honor.

"And this is why we have called the Senate to convene?" the lord spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Simply for the return of the fourth prince? A bedridden child of no importance? This meeting is a waste of our time and an insult to His Majesty the Emperor, as well as the other princes!"

The man's words echoed in the chamber, but the emperor did not react. He sat there, unmoving, his gaze fixed upon the proceedings as though he were merely an observer to a game he had no part in.

The Speaker, unfazed by the outburst, took a step forward.

"You emphasize the title of the prince as though it lessens the significance of his arrival." His voice was calm, measured, but beneath it was a quiet, simmering intensity. "Do you not know the man you speak of? Do the whispers of the streets not reach your luxurious manor? Have you not heard the name they call him?"

The lord's scowl deepened, but he said nothing. The Speaker pressed on, his words like steel in the air.

"They call him the Conqueror. The man who overtook a kingdom without an army. He rode into Byzeth as a single man, and within a month, the head of its rebellious king dangled from the gates of the castle—along with the bodies of his council and nobles."

The room fell silent, and the Speaker's words hung in the air. The bitter lord's face twitched with anger, but he did not interrupt.

Others shifted in their seats, exchanging glances. The tale was well-known, but to hear it spoken so plainly within these walls—within the seat of power—felt different.

It felt real.

"Are your political ties so thick that you cannot see the immeasurable significance of this?" the Speaker asked, his gaze hard and unyielding.

Another man, seated across the room, scoffed loudly and stood. He was older, his face lined with the years of privilege and wealth that marked him as one of the untouchables.

"Oh, please!" he barked. "He was a bedridden prince before he left! He could barely walk on his own, and you expect us to believe that he slaughtered Aszer, a man of the Martial King Realm, and subjugated his army to the point where they bent the knee to him?" He waved a dismissive hand. "What nonsense!"

"They saw it, Karis," another voice cut in, this time from a younger man seated near the Speaker.

"Thousands watched the Fourth Prince march into Byzeth with the king's severed head in his grasp, and the Byzeth army under his command."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room, though most fell silent as a new voice entered the fray.

"And along with him was the Northrender Princess and her legion, no?" This time it was Darius, the thrid prince, his tone casual, though the smile on his lips barely concealed the anger that boiled within him.

"It makes far more sense that they were responsible for the king's demise, does it not?" he continued.

The room grew still again, as if all were waiting to see how the Speaker would respond. But it was not the Speaker who answered. It was the emperor.

"Is that not more impressive in itself?" Emperor Xavier's voice was deep and commanding. His presence filled the room the moment he spoke. "We all know who the Northrenders are. And if Aric can lead their princess to war for his own ambition, then I find that far more of an achievement."

A silence fell, the heaviness of the emperor's words hanging. Darius's smile faltered, the fury beneath it flickering, but he said nothing in return. None dared to.

A member of the Senate, older and more cautious, finally spoke up. "But he gave them our land, Your Majesty," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "He gave them our land."

"Aszer gave them our land," the emperor corrected, his voice sharp. "The prince merely allowed them to keep it, to avoid conflict. A war with the north is not something we desire at this moment. The men of winter sided with the Fourth over the King of Byzeth, and there is a reason for that."

There was a pause, and the emperor's gaze swept the room, locking onto each man present.

"Perhaps Aric can bring our empire a true alliance with the Northrenders. If that happens, our strength will become unmatched."

The room was quiet, the gravity of the emperor's words sinking in. Even those who had doubted, those who had spoken out against Aric's return, found themselves considering the possibilities.

An alliance with the Northrend Empire? It was unthinkable. And yet… the Fourth Prince had achieved the impossible before.

Xavier stood from his throne, and immediately the room followed suit. Every man present, from prince to senator, rose in respect for their emperor. His presence was commanding, regal, and as he stood, the whole chamber choked with tension.

"My son has done a great deed for our empire," Xavier said, his voice clear, authoritative. "And when he returns, he shall be welcomed—not just as a prince, but as the new king of Byzeth and the victorious warlord he is. We will be further informed of the situation with his presence."

He paused, his eyes sweeping over the assembly one final time. "That will be all on this matter."

"As the emperor decrees," came the collective murmur of the Senate, each man bowing deeply.

Xavier turned, his cloak flowing behind him like a shadow, and began his exit from the court. The Imperial Guard moved to flank him as he made his way toward the grand doors of the Senate Hall.

And as he walked, none saw it—none but those closest to him—but a small, satisfied smile played on his lips. For while the court may have debated and doubted, Xavier had always known.

Aric was more.

And his return would change everything.

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