Bellatorium

[Mesiphidon]

Six large stuffed chairs sat at the flats of a circular table. Its black surface smooth as polished stone but it felt warm and metallic to the touch. The Celesin Lion crest seemed both embedded and engraved in silver. Almost alive and ready to leap from the table, but running a hand over the surface defied the senses. Above the table floated a vividly detailed hologram of Nexxian City where the Emperor already sat his chair. Gazing over hands held in a steeple at the display. Without moving Mesiphidon rotated the image and let it settle to the tables surface. The back of his chair rose above his head and this time engraved above his head was his personal crest; the eight point celestial star surrounding a burning a swirling core. Each chair around the table held the individual crest of the Primoris, and another closer to Mesiphidon's own was for the Empress.

The Bellatorium, the gathering place for Celesin's greatest warriors and generals held the highest room in the palace. Above even the throne room, the large skylight dome above the table showed the starry darkness of space. Surrounding the dome was a glowing ring that illuminated the space and accented the room with a moderate but non intrusive light. It wouldn't be long now before the others arrived, pulled from wherever they were by the Emperors call. The room was sancrosanct, none but those who held a place at the table could enter. It served a singular purpose and as such was quite spartan of furnishings and embellishments. Windows along white walls gave view to the city below and beyond, while the brushed metal floor gave the room a hardness fitting to those that sat the table.

Mesiphidon was incredibly serene given he was very likely about to go against his beloveds wishes and desires. But her voice would still be heard, if perhaps not followed this time around. Too many had begun to think the Emperor had grown soft, a foolish notion to those that dared. And a deadly mistake, perhaps she would agree to his notions as well, they were not always at odds, she had only tempered his aggressiveness in favor or more... diplomatic means. She had not dulled the sword, only used it's presence over it's cut. But in all things sometimes only the cut would see the ends met. She may well agree with his notions, but for now he waited. They would know the reason they were summoned by the table alone. The rest he would allow those who had brought the information to tell their tale.

[Fenris]

A bronze hand scratched a robust and coarse dark beard, as the other smoothed dark shaded locks from a neutral gaze as he approached the door to the Bellatorium probably overseen by at least Two Dominus. Fenris had never even been summoned by the Emperor as far as he could remember. The Ultonis had his suspicions on what it may or may not be about, but they were vague and seemed fairly unlikely. Was this some sort of performance review? Fenris tended to analyze and re-analyze things from every angle he could find, but in this situation it did no good.

That was when he arrived in the room, the first it seemed. He looked upon the image of Nexxian-City, and made a noise that implied both understanding of the implications of the Emperor actually watching and annoyance that the city was once again under attack and his men were possibly dying, all of this after he had at least seemingly changed the Chaos Beasts mind in the practicality of pursuing a vendetta against the city at the cost of even more Ultonis lives.

Hand moving to again absently smooth his hair back as he let out a sigh he chose a spot at the left of the table and leaned back, not addressing the Emperor unless addressed first, a knife forming in his left hand as he cleaned his nails. Then there was the matter of Arcerion, the tenuous non-aggression pact had held thus far, the fact he had passive and arguably great influence upon the city, and then the few bits he had heard in his half-nap a day or so prior in old fringe-arena that arguably lay beyond "Celesin Protection" though certainly not its Wrath nor its eyes and ears. He had reported and commented on the encounter simply for the sake of not leaving things to chance. Nothing had been stated that day in the arena before that the upper brass did not already know however, but he had a feeling things were about to get a bit messy.

[Esarhaddon]

Esarhaddon didn't exactly look thrilled when she entered close behind the Ultonis; a friend who was part of the reason she’d ever ended up in Celesin at all— though he couldn't have expected she’d end up marrying the emperor. Had he looked her way she’d have given him a faint, wan smile before her features returned to mild worry or irritation. Somebody very obviously had a problem with the current scenario.

Cerulean blue chiffon moved like water around her body— no occasion existed that the King wouldn’t elect to look nothing short of ethereal for. The fabric made it obvious that she was growing about the middle; either someone had eaten too many finger foods or, impossibly, Esarhaddon was visibly pregnant.

She passed her seat and tentatively approached Mesiphidon; uncaring that his precious Primoris were in attendance to watch her put a hand on his shoulder with brows knit and ice-chip eyes looking down at him. No hints had been given for the purpose of the meeting but she knew what the room was meant for. Not petty skirmishes or small city-state acquisitions but the big sort of war related announcements that shook their corner of the universe. Could it be helped? This was her first rodeo of the sort.

Esar wanted him to take her hand, if briefly. Surely she was not weak by any means but she had her reasons for the brief contact. Whether he did or not, soon, a strange expression washed over her face and she took the seat beside him; her body language somewhat closed off while she leaned to her right on the arm rest and looked pensive; her thumb rubbing over her stained bottom lip over and over again while looking at the holographic image of Nexxian city.

That must have been what had done it— seeing the city over the table and the purpose of the meeting being driven home. Occasionally, her eyes would flit to the chair that held the Potentiae crest on it and inwardly she was overcome with guilt. It wasn't simply what was coming but how fully the King felt she had wronged someone.

[Drustan]

The doors of a magi gate split, and spat out the imposing figure of a newly ascended Dra’sin; a child by some standards, but a child with a title, a position, and a duty that placed him well above the vast majority of Celesinians “adults”.  Draped in a white cloak, split to catch the wind as it rushed past him with every heavy step perpetuated by his large gait, Drustan held all the decorations of an accomplished military officer many times his age.  The most prized among them was the silvery emblem emblazoned upon his shoulder, clasping the folds of his ivory cape to his body, shinier than the peerless silver buttons that decorated his onyx coat.  Upon looking at the man who stormed through the capital, with charisma that came crashing down on the people around him like heavy waves in a tsunami (because the Immuno Grid kept his real presence under control), there was little doubt that he was someone of considerable clout and importance.  He was a Primoris.

He’d held the position for some time now.  In times of relative peace his exploits had nevertheless been numerous: he’d reformed the Ignis division of the Alis Corps; dispatched threats to the empire as per his duties; overseen the redevelopment of Novus Orsa as its interim governor… He’d done a number of things, and yet still had room to do more; to achieve more objectives, gain higher accolades, and reach loftier heights.  There was, however, a conflict he chose to not engage in.

Drustan ascended the staircase to the Bellatorium, the heavy sound of boots connecting with a hard floor announcing his presence before he actually appeared.  Radiant eyes bottling a sea of magma rolled over the present attendees of the meeting, appraising them briefly as if having never set eyes on them before.  In some sense it was true.  Drustan’s eyes had awakened; been opened to a world that had been a veritable field of shadows before.  For all intents and purposes, it was his first time seeing the Emperor and the Empress for what they truly were, and he inclined his head respectively to disengage the absentmindedly intrusive look pointed at the both of them.  His curiosity in regards to the world and its inhabitants had been reinvigorated.  Despite his desire to appraise everyone, he quickly took his seat, and settled beneath the emblem of the resplendent Ignis.

From there, his eyes turned skyward, and he studied the holographic construction of Nexxian erected for his viewing pleasure.  He bristled upon seeing it.  This was the conflict in question that he’d gone to great lengths to avoid, even going so far as to entrust a retinue of his own Ignis to Daul in order to avoid getting involved in the situation himself, all the while playing the role of the supportive colleague.  In truth, nothing about Nexxian filled him with amusement; nothing about Celesin’s hand in their affairs moved him towards any sense of national pride.  Quite the opposite, he saw it and saw a stain on the face of Celesin, inspiring the freshly unbridled pool of his magi to bubble and quake in his person.  This meeting needed to start immediately.  The Nexxian eyesore was already beginning to give him a headache, turning his flat expression into an austere, marble carving.

[Daul]

Daul, made her appearance shortly after Drustan. She was quiet as usual; saying nothing to the Dominus outside of the chamber and making no eye contact at all. Golden eyes stared ahead as the chamber sealed behind her; her gaze briefly focusing on the holographic display before her eyes re-routed themselves. If she had any reaction, visceral or subtle, to seeing Nexxian city floating above the table she did not show it.

In fact, her demeanor was same as always— guarded, stone-like and impenetrable— as she seemingly didnt have to bother looking for her crest and lowered her large frame into the corresponding chair. With a straight spine she looked every inch the Primoris she was meant to; a war lord and paladin obviously fashioned in the image of the Emperor who’d stumbled upon his daughter all those centuries ago by chance or fate.

However, soon enough her gaze did break away from its unreadable focus on the holographic image to the visage of the Empress. The expression on her face confused the Potentiae and her resolve only briefly gave way to what might have been questioning or confusion. Daul obviously understood what the image and the called meeting meant...and after a while she did look at her father. Those few seconds of something shining through were tucked in; wrapped up and squirreled away. It was a blessing in that moment that she was unreadable for the most part— except no doubt Mesiphidon could see through her.

What he would note was a melange of confusion, anger so similar to what the emperor himself worked hard to keep at bay, perhaps the idea that her betrothal had simply been an excuse and precursor to acquisition of Nexxian or perhaps even starting a long time coming war with the Shuinsai.

Again.

But alongside it all, it warred with her zealous dedication and worship of the empire. Daul was a true believer in it and it’s leaders, in all of the Primoris. Thus, that would make two of those drawn into the Bellatorium keeping a broiling pool of rage at bay and appearing every bit exalted servants of the empire on the surface. Was there enough anger or a sense of betrayal to really dampen her love for Celesin?

They wore their masks so well.

Daul briefly rolled her shoulders and waited for the discourse to begin. She needed to understand how this had come about and how solid they were in the decision to bring such an act to the table. What about Nexxian held her father’s interest if not something to do with Emperor Arcerion?

[Caden]

He was last, or as he prefered fashionably late. Not that there was much delay between the summons and his arrival. When the Emperor called you came, it was as simple as breathing. He looked as polished ad usual, hair perfect, clothes pristine and seemingly freshly pressed. But the usual air of ease, his look of near mirth was far more somber today. He had an idea of why this merging had been called, knew what this room was for.

The floating image of Nexxian drove it home like a hammer and he almost sighed. Caden had always been more emotionally capable of his bethren, and unlike Daul or his father he didn't spend his lifetime spreading the emotions he did have. His mask was never as complete or thorough but it didn't take much to see Daul was wearing his mask with more effort. His father though was unreadable as ever. Maybe Esarhaddon could read the emperor in some ways. But that man was a stone.

When the door closed behind him the sound of the chamber sealing and the Dominus' muffled movements accompanied his walk to the chair. Seating himself beneath his crest he remained silent as the others. Instead taking a moment to observe and read each as he could. The Empress looked worried which was surprising, Fenris somehow ready, like a coiled spring too long compressed. Drustan looked smug, or perhaps it was his recent ascension that unlocked the natural hubris of their kind. Regardless congratulations were in order. Settling the white cloak over the arms of his padded chair he sat back.

Unlike the others Caden didn't have an overly vested interest in Nexxian, only Drustan had remained completely detached. He could understand in part why this place was being brought up. But something must have happened, something else. He imagined this meeting was called to hear the views of the others, but how much of a say did they have concerning the final outcome of the Emperor's decision?

Adjusting the black coat snugged to his neck before his hands settled on the table, Caden only waited. Everyone had gathered, it was time to begin and the Emperor would speak when ready.

[Mesiphidon]

Fire lit eyes watched and regarded each new arrival, weighing their reactions to the floating image of the city. Mesiphidon was an aggressive warrior, but to think him a callous brute without intelligence was a fatal flaw none had lived to regret. He didn't need to observe his wife to know her concerns or worries. He felt them through their bond, but still his hand rose to clasp hers as she set it upon his shoulder. Even going so far as to press his cheek to the back of her hand for the briefest of moments. That slight sign of affection was profound given his current mood and mindset. But she withdrew and settled into her chair, as did the others.

When Caden finally settled in he filled the air with silence. Letting his gaze linger on each Primoris in turn before moving onto the next. Some might bear his scrutiny differently, and only Drustan received the barest nod. A silent praise for his newest achievement, and a true acceptance into the fold.  His silence hammered the room for several more moments before the cold iron tone of his words broke the reverie. "There is little doubt in each of you as to the purpose of this meeting. You each know what this table is for." Leaning forwards so that his hands settled into the table with fingers laced. "Some might question however why this flyspec of a village would be the first image you see. Why this harmless plot of land is the catalyst to something much more significant." His gaze fell to each of three Primoris who had spent so much time there. Hammering home that much of this was a result of their actions. "I would answer that question by wondering what three of the Imperiums most prominent figures were doing spending so much of their time there. It was your persistent visitations, and... relationships which brought this place to light. Brought the unknown to the public eye."

His tone had not changed or altered at all, but his words struck like a blacksmiths hammer to hot iron. "Fenris took it upon himself to lead a campaign against the construct of Chaos Vivi, this is his right and I do not fault him for it. Yet the reason for the engagement was defense of Nexxian, restoring balance to the realms he corrupts a secondary objective." The weight of those white blazes settled upon Daul, "It was your insistence on visitation that led you to develop a... relationship with the cities Matriarch. And that led to my beloved vouching on your behalf for the arrangement of betrothal. Betrothal to the spawn of Thargor, an arrangement that I am still unsettled with." There was a moment, fleeting and easily missed where his gaze might have softened. A brief flare of compassion before he continued. "It has been agreed, and I shall honor it, however it poses some difficulties, some... mercies shall be given."

At last his gaze settled upon Caden "You yourself took to the battlefield, two of your ranking officers one of which was your Legatus also took the field. It was her injury was it not that drove you into action." His hands clenched into fistst, a sure sign that beneath his cool mask was a torrent of fury. "Nexxian is unfortunately now a means to an end. Its fate tied to your involvement. I have lost men and resources defending this spec of land for little purpose that I can see beyond your own selfish desires. But more importantly our people, our public is questioning the actions. Questioning why the most revered figures in the Imperium spent more time there than in the homestead of Lu'rae, why our fabled Primoris are moving to battle and defend a place we don't even call home. That isn't at this time ours, and why they were there to defend instead of conquer."

His fists loosened as he settled them flat upon the table. "We've remained passive for too long, too many have grown complacent, believe they are above reproach, outside of our grasp. Believe we have become soft because we offer aid without payment. It ends now." This time he glanced to Esarhaddon, that single glance she would be able to read as an apology before he continued on. "I am revoking your authority within Nexxian and moving to conquer the city. We can no longer sell the story that Nexxian was a testing ground for the Prince to prove his leadership capabilities. Not after..." The Emperor fell silent a moment, taking the brief time to lock his composure.

At last his eyes narrowed, a show of something beyond his mask of apathy. "As for Arcerion, he will be expected to remove his forces and constructs from Celesin territory. This may invoke a conflict given the Matriach's relationship to the Shuinsai, perhaps Arcerion will be wise enough not to start a war he cannot win over such a trifle of land." He settled back into his chair, his hands resting on the chairs arms as he nodded. "You are brought here because you are my hands, because your insight may alter the approach of our path. You are welcome to voice concerns or even disagreement. Do not attempt to defend your actions, what's done is done. We can only move on what is. If you see an alternative I am open to consideration, but ultimately we must take action."

[Fenris]

The Primoris-Ultonis gave the Emperor his due respect, a nod given, as his eyes glanced up from the work of his hands, continuously picking under his nails with the make-shift knife, as he returned a slightly warmer smile to the Empress, despite this he could feel her trepidation. It was not too long before the others arrived, and as everything was laid out, it seemed Drustan was the only that had remained above reproach.

The Chimerith-Santirims eyes flecked to Daul, he knew she was the most invested, and he was surprised he could not gleam her reaction, though he did not need perception, merely common sense to deduce such a turn of events would leave her conflicted. Caden's own answer to his fathers observation would be a bit of a mystery to Fenris, though perhaps his Brother would play a vital role in his decision. He had seen Caden and Daul almost come to blows over Sune'ere's involvement with the place. Suddenly Caden's likely views on the situation seemed less unpredictable.

As for Drustan, Fenris felt he would simply gladly carry out the Emperors will, though for all things considered Dauls handling of this might potentially be the most influential. The Ultonis had to admit he no longer felt quite as attached as he had to the city. It also occurred to him that him and Daul for the most part had been treating the place like a "hobby" of sorts. A place to find things to do, though he knew Daul had found more than she had thought, and it had become far more than a simple fancy for her. Surely a bitter pill to swallow for his well known "brother-in-arms".

Fenris sometimes felt his mortality lingered in him, perhaps more so than any of his comrades who had never been mortal to begin with. A faint sense of guilt was felt. Had they treated the land as a commodity? As a place merely to fool around in? Had they gotten a bit too involved in their "hobby", and had set something in motion that would affect those that had nothing to do with the matters at hand? The guilt he felt was more due to the fact he had not seen it sooner. Things had gotten too complicated in this "hobby" though there was some consolation even if it was selfish in that he was not the only one at fault for this, perhaps even not the biggest contributor to the Emperors current intent.

There was also the matter of Angelos dip into subterfuge. He had lost men at the cost of seeking to help an old peer, though he maintained a garrison at the edge of the Chaos-Beasts territory at the very least now for quick response. Though Fenris now felt he no longer had much stock in the land, he did not see any real reason to continue defending a place he had no stake in save for the fact he thought the City was a "good influence" on the surrounding anarchy, and to make sure there was a Celesin Presence to make sure Dorian did not consolidate troops. If nothing else however he did not want to upset the balance of life and cause undue slaughter to the common-folk of the lands, even if in the end Celesin Annexation might be a boon to the people of Nexxian-City.

He watched intently as the Emperor spoke, listening and then stated his mind. "I have no qualms showing Dorian or Borokai where exactly they stand in the grand scheme of things..." The Primoris-Ultonis said in a guarded tone, leaning back as he scratched his beard.

[Esarhaddon]

After the procession filed in she managed to sit a little straighter; cease rubbing at her lip and make it at least seem as if she was as perfectly put together as usual. The edge of worry noticed by Fenris and Caden never quite left her fact, unfortunately— but it was Drustan that she’d found staring for a moment. Puzzling, but, it wasn’t hard to figure out that he was seeing her with a new dimension hidden behind his crimson eyes.

No one but Esarhaddon knew how to appreciate the gift of Sight. Not simply viewing but seeing and especially in the way that Kings had been built for. Thus,she gave him a faint smile that broke through her worry and all to congratulate him on his ascension. The slight nod from Mesiphidon was, of course, world shaking— the acknowledgment meant something even if Drustan wasn’t the sort to take it for more than it was worth.

Then, the source of her guilt entered and took a seat. Yet another effort (or was it genuine?) to look nonplussed by the current development that everyone expected on some level. After came her son by marriage and now that they were full and all were present, a long silence stretched. An artificial heartbeat thudded in her ears. What exactly was the emperor waiting for?

’It isnt your fault…’ came a voice that cause Esarhaddon to look around briefly with alarm. She must have looked insane to anyone who had watched, however, this was the moment that Mesiphidon began to speak. Perhaps they would take her as simply startled? The King blessed the timing and sighed; putting the source of the reassurance behind it. Now wasn’t the time to speak of it.

Eye contact with Mesiphidon brought back a certain reptilian stillness that she and the other Kings were known for; if they were not checked for warmth one might think they had turned to stone. Esar caught the apology and her only movement was a neutral, slow blink. The stillness broke when she sighed and looked away. It wasn’t enough that she’d done what she thought best for Daul but to have it blow up in her face along with a scene playing out not unlike her husband confiscating her toys because she got her dress too dirty.

After Fenris spoke she did, in fact, having something to offer.

’Does it seem...a little abominable to make a move for a city and demand that Arcerion remove his forces after he had assisted the Primoris in defending it? Did he not risk men as well or is that immaterial? That said, what resources through the Nexxian city-state are we to gain from this? It is just as important that we gain something as much as wasting manpower is to defending it, is it not?’

In her eyes, it was a good question. Mesiphidon wanted Nexxian because his trusted and his children invested too much time and lives into it on whimsy. But would it not be equally as much whimsy to take a city-state and gain nothing from it? Even if it was something to provoke a war based only on imperialistic progress?

[Drustan]

The world of politics was a world Drustan preferred to stay out of.  However, like vegetables to a child, however much he didn’t like them didn’t take away from how necessary it was to deal with them, and in some instances take part.  Despite how he felt about political discourse, he recognized its significance, and was slowly coming to understand their nuances however dulled his emotional responses had become.  The first—and perhaps most surprising—expression came from Mesiphidon, the Emperor himself; the man so jaded by power and tradition that he, and most other members of Dra’sin society, saw him as risen from some lowly place.  Drustan, albeit ascended and as such more powerful in many areas, nevertheless considered himself as respectable and praiseworthy as he’d always been.  Still, he’d acknowledge the Emperor’s congratulatory nod with a nod of his own, dutifully humbled by the Emperor’s respect.  Thereafter, he regaled the rest of the meeting’s attendees bref looks with looks of his own—it was only Caden who received something marginally lighter in nature.  He was the only one who continued to have the Primoris’ undying respect and loyalty, even if they were now on a slightly more even playing field.

The time for haughty looks and glances quickly passed as the Emperor rose and began to speak.  He had a great number of grievances with the other Primori, a fact that hadn’t escaped Drustan’s notice; no one had seemingly missed it.  He wondered briefly if it placed a target on his back, or perhaps conversely made it seem as if he was the one with behavior worthy of being modeled.  Unmoving, as if cut from marble, and rivaled only by the eerie stillness of the Empress, Drustan watched on and listened, waiting expectantly for the defensive responses of his contemporaries.  His primary focus was on Daul and Fenris—eye contact with Caden had become difficult in the wake of Mesiphidon’s harsh appraisal of his own son.  It made the Ignis leader uncomfortable to say the least, and yet still he maintained his stoic expression and stony air.  Movement seemed to manifest only in his fingers as the thick, calloused digits beat a soft drumline against the table in front of him.  

“Have we not already acquired the promise of everything Nexxian has to offer?”  Part of Drustan hoped it would be a surprise for his bellowing voice to cut in on the heels of the Empress’ inquiries.  However, while it was in response to her that he spoke, his neck craned, turning his burning ruby eyes on Daul, the betrothed to Nexxian’s sovereign.  “It was my understanding that a marriage between Daul and Nexxian’s ‘queen’ all but guaranteed that whatever resources the Nexxian city-state had to offer would be ours to summon as need be.  As such, what purpose does it serve in questioning Nexxian’s value as a resource at this point?”  The word “queen” had been uttered with a particularly cynical twang; a not-so-subtle scrutinizing of Jophiel’s place in the grand scheme.  If it suggested that she was just another of Arcerion’s pawns, then Drustan would gladly support the premise.  The only thing he regretted was appearing so austere behind the Empress, who may or may not have taken his intentionally scathing judgment personally.  For better or for worse, he had a grasp on the general skillset of a King, and the only way he knew to tangle with her social prowess was to do what he did best: charge through it like a bull.

[Daul]

Daul hardly moved in the time they all waited; watching Mesiphidon study the entire collective and break them down with only a stare. For once, rather than feeling the brief shudder of a combination of worship, anticipation and fear-- she only felt a anticipation. The Potentiae was angry-, not necessarily at her father and the inevitable, but the idea that she'd both brought the folly to Jophiel herself and that Esarhaddon should have anticipated this. And there was the possibility that she had.

But, surely, this was not intended....was it?

Daul understood there was a lot she didn't know, tons to learn that would come from Mesiphidon and the study of other leaders, history and so forth. No move was made without all reactions being plotted and planned ahead of time.

Just as he brought the betrothal up Daul was wondering if she'd been used as a sort of pawn. And, if so, did she have a right to be angry? And what might happen when she learned of Sha'rai? Only when she was addressed correctly did she allow her anger to temper as her trust in Mesiphidon was still rather close to absolute. Esarhaddon had done the vouching and he was still struggling with it...may as well take him at his word.

A slight shift of her body from leaning on one arm of the chair boasting her double-diamond sigil to the other and maintaining her neutral expression could be given in acknowledgment. Something about mentioned mercies was no doubt all she could hope for in the end. They would not harm Jophiel, at least.

While Daul knew about Vivi, it was what Caden had levied at him that broke her resolve. Daul couldn't help turning her chair slightly to look his way with a silver brow in the air. She said nothing and yet no doubt didn't have to. He'd charged into battle for Khooey? Was it right to be slightly amused that the great flaying of the irresponsible Primoris wasn't only for her? A bit of an effort before she swallowed her amusement and also something of a kinship. He already cared deeply for the Djinn if he didn't love her and she herself had nearly come under the same circumstances. There was something about Khooey that broke through, even if slightly, the Celesin survival of the fittest mentality. They all felt somewhat protective and, considering Caden's history, he had every reason to do what he had.

Drustan spoke up and broke Daul from her thoughts just as she was beginning to consider her own war between Celesin zeal and love or attachment to Jophiel. Something for her to confront later-- and the man had a good point. Daul followed closely behind him in order to compound upon his point. Only a moment for her simmer at his derogatory tone toward her betrothed was needed. But there had always been a lowkey sort of tension between herself and Draghurst.

Someone, somewhere needed to congratulate the Potentiae on her hard earned control.

“An interesting point indeed. And not only Nexxian but some of the perks from the greater part of Dorian empire are no doubt promised to myself and thus the empire. An obvious lack of trust aside and motivations unknown I do believe Arcerion to be sincere in his efforts toward “burying the hatchet”, as they say, with Celesin. I have no doubt he wants to negotiate for something in the long run that only we can give him, but, he is not a ruler given easily to spite rather than strategy...though his methods differ completely from ours. But all betrothals between empires are for gain.”

Daul paused and sat up a little straighter.

“What do we gain or prove laying claim to something that for all intents and purposes is already on its way to us?” She looked to the empress then. Not as an apology, however.

"Your own empress also understands this. She saw gain as well. There has always been more here than her supporting my whims as I know you think of them. Lest we not forget what purpose the Kings serve and where their skillsets lie by legend."

[Caden]

Caden at least had the awareness to look even slightly abashed. His father had been merciful even if the others might not know. That he took the field was bad enough, but he had also used a Rune Word, it was a blessing the Emperor hadn't mentioned it openly. But then perhaps it was intended as the Emperor's were very guarded with such knowledge. Already he was dreading what was no doubt going to be a private discussion that would leave him feeling smaller than an insect.

Yet unlike the others who seemed to be voicing their concerns against the Emperor's course of actions, a sentiment many no doubt expected Caden to follow suit on given he was much more inclined to diplomacy in likeness to the Empress. But he understood at hearts his fathers reasons. Nexxian was not only a giant failure of a project but a massive blow to Celesin reputation. "Sune was nearly killed." Something the Emperor refused to speak on, but Caden could not guess the specific reasons. "The people know this, and despite Sune're's lack of a position in this court he is still considered by the populace a Prince of Celesin. They expect us to answer that grievance."

Caden kept his words simple, direct and spoke to no one in particular. "You know that I as much as anyone would rather avoid conflict where it can be had. If we can negotiate them to our terms. I do not believe this is one of those times. More, we need to look at how our people feel. Is sparing this city, this nation that has no real value to us more important than alleviating the doubts of our populace? We must not shake their faith in us, in the Emperor. You all say Nexxian is insignificant, then why do we deliberate so heavily on taking it? Rather it comes to us now, or through Daul's marriage. The end is the same, but one way rectifies to some extent our actions to the public."

If there was one thing Caden understood it was the public, the people. He knew perhaps more than anyone else there how important it was to maintain their confidence. Celesin to them was the infallible defender, the power beyond all others that saw justice and balance to all. anything that marred that image, tarnished the image they fashioned of themselves. In this way he agreed with his fathers actions, it was his course of aggression that created the monster in the first place. Sometimes, you had to feed it.  

Glancing now to Daul and then the Emperor he had only one further thing to say. "I do not believe it a matter of rather we should take the city as our own now. But a matter of how we inform the Potentiae's betrothed and her backers that the city and their small nation are a nation-state of ours."

[Mesiphidon]

The Emperor remained stoic as each spoke their piece in turn, the mask of apathy he wore never cracked. Only the briefest flare of intensity in his eyes at Caden’s mention of Sune’ere might have been noticed by Esarhaddon. There was obviously some differences of opinion among those at the top of the Imperium. But in truth it mattered little to Mesiphidon, he had determined his course of action, he simply wanted see if anyone had any other suggestions towards methodology.

His tone bespoke of the lack of sway any words might have. Not even his beloved could work her magic now. ”Rather Arcerion chooses to engage us in conflict or not is inconsequential. The might of Dorian tenfold would still crumble and fall beneath our heel as we move forward. Nexxian is ours, it has always been ours. Make no mistake Sanctum is ours. The nation, the queen, the resources are of little merit any longer.” His glanced turned to Esarhaddon as she had voiced concern over Dorian’s efforts in stemming the attack, their participation in the ‘war’. ”Dorian’s efforts are being commended in that we are allowing them to leave with notice and dignity should they choose. That the city still stands, their… Duchess is still alive. That I have not scoured its existence for the travesties accosted is grace enough. My mercy is their reward.”

Esarhaddon more than any of the others knew full well how close Nexxian came to extinction, not by the invading army but by Mesiphidon’s own hand. His gaze took in the Primoris, a lingering gaze left on Caden. Mesiphidon was well aware of what… methods the Fulminis had used in his engagement. He didn’t need to wonder where it had been learned, he was more surprised by the extent of the knowledge. A brief nod was given to Drustan ”Knowing Arcerion, your assessment would not be amiss that the cities Duchess is little more than a pawn in the larger game.” With that said his fire lit eyes turned to Daul. ”Sovereignty under our Crest will offer your betrothed more freedom then she had otherwise. Assuming she accepts her position as a Nation-State. Should she refuse her power will be disposed of, and she can exist merely as your second.”

Finally he sat down once more, remaining silent for a moment as he contemplated rather or not there was more to be discussed. ”Your actions, have advanced the time tables on claiming Nexxian officially. The public will follow regardless Caden, they do not doubt my will. But I must move now to lessen the impact of the actions you all took rashly. Your defense of the city, was merely the prelude to taking them under our wing. In this regard at least their faith in your positions will not be at all questioned.” The boy really did put too much stock and faith in public opinion. It was importantly surely, but unlike a great many other religions, Mesiphidon need only to exact a show of his power to reaffirm any doubts of the Dra’sin divine will. ”With that, I offer up a single compromise. Which of you wish to deliver the decree?”

[Fenris]

Fenris contemplated the issues as they were brought up one by one, and could not help stealing a glance at Daul, and seeing Esarhaddons point. But he no longer had any stake in Nexxian, and for that he was thankful at least. However he could see Dauls apprehension even if she hid it well. Rather even if there was no way he could perceive it at this moment, he knew Daul and knew how she might feel. It seemed her choices had merited unseen consequences. He might have found amusement in it, if not for his concern for her well being, and curiosity as to how she was really taking the news. Everyone seemed to be focused on the task at hand, but dismissive as to any blow-back save the Potentae possibly.

"I might say, that our recent defense of the city, might merit some good will towards us... Perhaps in the staggering devastation caused by the battle, the people will be thankful for our intervention... Then again perhaps not, this sort of thing is always a crap-shoot... But they did not seem to mind when Dauls betrothed usurped the previous status-quot... " he continued. "I am willing to deliver the message, unless Daul wishes too..."

[Esarhaddon]

Admittedly, the King was a little taken aback by his brusque tone as he addressed her concern. Not that she was offended by what he had said, but, it was difficult to miss now that his position on the entire matter wasn’t one of hard rationality— there was rage involved. Even she could admit he had every right to be angry. It did suit her to remember the times before they had become intimately involved. The King had arrived in Shad’Rae for an impromptu meeting of the emperor by invitation through the Ultonis.

And she’d brazenly, in the fashion of all Kings, had let him know she thought him a violent despotic tyrant of a ruler to his face. Granted, he had smiled down at her for the first time ever on that fateful afternoon in the desert city. Truly the beginning of the end.

Esarhaddon knew that he hadn’t turned over any new leaves since then or ever and understood now and perhaps hypocritically— his methodology and politics surely hadn’t stopped her from binding her soul to his and never once regretting it.

“I suppose they should be so lucky….” she would murmur in her usual somewhat softhearted fashion; turning away from him to turn her Arctic gaze onto the Potentiae who, like Fenris, she was fully aware was suffering from an inner struggle of rage, guilt and more while appearing stone-faced and unbothered on the outside.

The parallels between daughter and father were obvious.

And when Mesiphidon offered his compromise her eyes— and likely all others— would continue to rest on the Potentiae. Who else should the duty have fallen to? Would Daul even allow the possibility that it should be anyone else?

“Whomever may take on the task— “ she made it a point to stop focusing on her beloved’s prized daughter for the sake of fairness. “Should be accompanied and assisted by Sune’ere. He is the bridge. He has a true stake in the outcome of the settlement. I personally would prefer for the acquisition to be as undramatic as possible.”

[Drustan]

He saw it on everyone’s faces; bubbling emotions so numerous and conflicting as to turn stomachs and twist expressions into subdued grimaces.  From the Empress to Fenris, all aimed to hide their conflicting emotions behind stoic propriety, save the Emperor who wore his embarrassment plainly for all to witness, successfully instilling the rare sense of shame that the members of the Bellatorium had grown unfamiliar with.  And yet, despite decorum and attempts to play it cool, Dru could see it written on everyone’s faces, as if carved onto the very walls that surrounded them.  In other words, no one made it obvious, but he knew them all well enough to know what passions roiled beneath their collected surfaces—observations made with the lasting impressions of his human intuition.  Without a shred of doubt, he observed Daul knowing she was unquestionably the member in the most precarious position, and she’d be lacking in the sort of emotional depth he imagined was necessary to love (if she was actually capable of such) were she as unmoved as she appeared to be.  For better or worse, he chose not to bring her biases to light, only in part because she backed his previous argument.

He made a similar assessment of Fenris, who in his reserved coolness appeared almost removed; aloof would almost suffice to describe him, and yet for all the energy and time he’d committed to Nexxian, it seemed off that he would be so calm.  It was an observation that left a bitter taste in the mouth of the Primoris Ignis.  Was he too incapable of rousing even a shred of reason to defend his involvement?  Drustan made harsh criticisms of his contemporaries while perhaps wisely suppressing the urge to speak on what he considered a general inconsistency in the workings of their circle.  They were entirely too quiet.  

Unsurprisingly, it was Caden who had the wherewithal to speak up.  Drustan shifted in his seat, anticipating some rousing acknowledgement of his shortcomings while dignifying himself.  He was a Prince of Celesin; a Dra’sin to be called exemplary among even Dra’sin; a man of such distinguishing qualities that anything he did was not without great thought and wisdom, and even if in err, had the courage to defend his actions.  Drustan, however, opposed to involvement in Nexxian to begin with, could only hope to be fed the morsels of reason he’d hoped would be brought to the banquet.

His words, however sound, drew a passionless gaze from Drustan, whose smoldering eyes failed to mask his disappointment, and for the first time the Primoris’ veneer cracked with the clenching of his jaw.  He had words; things to say, and yet his tongue twisted in his mouth and his voice caught in his throat behind a mound of rage that, had he attempted to speak, would’ve erupt as some guttural and animal roar.  “What?”  His annoyance disappeared when surprise took place, and his next utterance was one of confusion toward   The Empress, who put her lot in with the Potentiae.  “Would not the least invested in the situation be best equipped to handle it without drama?  Prince Sune’ere and Daul are the most likely to react emotionally.  Additionally, our present situation is the result of division; action inconsistent with the unified machine that is this circle.  Daul is not the best to deliver this message, and Sune’ere should not be rewarded with further involvement.  I vote for myself.”

[Daul]

Stiff. Thats how she looked. Not anywhere on par with a King in one of their low-motion or low functioning modes but Daul had become rigid with tension. She hadn’t even looked at Caden as he spoke. The decision had been made and, truth be told, she didn’t see a logical reason beyond what she had voiced to speak against it moving forward. Simply put, it was a problem for her in concern for her personal life. And all of those concerns were left at the door of the Bellatorium. They had no place inside of it.

That is until everyone saw fit to place it and center it upon the metaphysical table. Her brothers in arms, superior and ultimate authority and his wife may have thought her reeling at the idea in another way but it was only that they were taking her personal life to task and sawing it up for all to see. Never had she been in such a position. Who to take the job? The Potentiae’s “betrothed” and she wished more than anything it hadn’t felt like she was the center of a gossip’s congregation rather than an important conversation involving Celesin acquisitions, public relations and so forth.

Even Mesiphidon centered it. “Your betrothed” he’d said. In this room she only wanted to be Daul Dra’sin, Primoris Potentiae— not the one engaged to The Problem. Her jaw was tense; lips pressed into a thin line as the discourse continued from Fenris— who she did catch glancing her way and even experienced a flash of anger in his direction. She was, oddly, closest to him amongst the Primoris rather than her brother or the other being of Dra’sin heritage, the Ignis. They had an unexpectedly strong bond. But his glance alone told her that he was still seeing her + The Problem.

Esarhaddon’s words were understood as background noise; the gist of her suggestion only causing Daul to tense even more. But it was Drustan who truly set her teeth on edge. By now, her eyes had bled to golden fire from the agitation. It couldnt be helped. Before he could even finish his sentence she had slammed her fist into the table. Luckily, it wasn’t a blow from her at full or even half strength and it was made of a material that could withstand even her. The holographic image of Nexxian, however, scrambled for a long moment as it was violently disturbed.

‘Vote all you would like, I am negating the democratic process you have seen fit to impose upon us. Neither our empire nor the Primoris are subject to votes.’ she’d impart and boldly; turning her angry, sun-glow eyes onto him. Likely, they’d never seen her so angry. Though her voice was not raised and her tone managed to be perfectly business-like. It was a cold and deadly fire- And again, likely, she’d never so closely resembled Mesiphidon.

‘The task is mine. I am laying an official and final claim to it. If you wish to challenge me for it, speak your piece; Ignis. Rest assured I do mean in a more primal fashion. Otherwise keep your votes for your own comfort.’

After, whether her cold-fire outburst had caused the tension to erupt into something more or silence fell over the room— she’d keep her gaze on Drustan Alaric for a long, drawn out moment. He’d openly and brazenly insulted her, after all and that he would be so brash as to use her relationship as a stepping stone toward more favor in this room had been her tipping point. At least that was how she saw it. He was newly ascended and wanted to prove himself. Of this she was sure.

Suggesting that her relationship with the Shuinsai woman would prevent her in any way from doing her duty. There was no bigger affront to the core of Daul’s personality and no doubt her very existence. She was the only Primoris who had also been tasked with the former job of the Emperor’s enforcer. If he needed her to prove her worthiness to the title? The Potentiae would take on himself or anyone else who questioned her ability and dedication to her station, her crest and her father.

Nothing could prevent Daul from such a thing. There was no bigger zealot in the room aside from the emperor himself.

If the emperor was truly keeping an eye on her and the turmoil within he could be inspired to remember the reason he'd kept her yoked before...

[Caden]

After he had said his piece Caden remained silent, watching as the ice all but crawled up the side of the walls. He did not regret his actions, not for a single moment. Before he had ever returned home Caden had made a promise to himself, one he held in higher regard than anything here on this table. From his view he did not need to defend his actions. Perhaps they were a mistake for the Empire, but certainly not for him. Anyone might be able to see that.

He half frowned at the overwhelming lack of agreement with his words. It troubled him somewhat that the leaders of Celesin seemed to hold their people in so little regard. But then the Fulminis was a bit of an anomaly there he didn't grown up among his brethren, the Dra'sin.  Who saw themselves more as Shepards to the sheep of the people. But before he could contemplate the matter, Drustan surprised him finally speaking out. Even going so far as to offer himself as the representative.

Of course that would be nearly as disastrous as perhaps the Emperor himself going. Drustan had almost seemed to resent his previous humanity. And his fuse seemed just as short as Mesiphidon's. Yet his words did make some sense, and once again before he could speak them the crack of Daul's fist on the table kept him at bay.

He hardly noticed the momentarily scrambled holo-display as his attention turned to her. Could she really separate her duty and her limited feelings for the woman to who she must give an impossible choice? Her cold fury was certainly reminiscent of the Emperor, her not so subtle suggestions vaguely mirrored his as well. But what he also knew, was that at the core of the matter, it was that emotion speaking now. Perhaps he could not discern the exact reasoning, but he had seen what had driven his father to such... outbursts before. They were always personal.

"I do not believe this task, is worthy of drawing blood from each other." Certainly not the best thing to say given the state of the Potentiae, but as he gazed to her burning eyes. His cool slightly glowing turquoise showed no fear. Once he might have feared the anger of the Potentiae, but that was a thing long forgotten. Unlike Daul's current state, the glow of his eyes was not fueled by anything other than his growth. Certainly it would take millennium, perhaps countless more before his gaze ever mirrored the always burning blaze of the Emperor.  But perhaps most importantly he was calm.

"The reality of the situation is that this will effect you more than anyone else sister. No one is laying the blame on you or suggesting you incapable of doing as necessary. But you must also consider how the other parties will respond to you. They may not be able to compartmentalize so well."

He shook his head and sighed. "Both Daul and Sune'ere are faces they are entirely too familiar with. It is difficult to predict how they might respond to such a decree from those they feel comfortable. And while I do understand the intention of our Father to test our brother's ability to rule. He was unsuccessful, and nearly lost his life defending the nation. He might not be on the same page in regards to Nexxian's fate. Sune'ere is too much of a wild card right now, when we need stability."

Truly the Fulminis could not decide who might be best to go. He himself was supposed to be the diplomat of the four, along with the Empress. But this was a duty beneath her station, perhaps he should go. He was a familiar face, but not one too familiar. He could still represent the Imperium without Nexxian feeling too comfortable. And he was reserved enough that people would not instantly die, as would be the case with Drustan. He however did not voice his thought in an effort not to fuel the flame of Daul's anger as it were.

[Mesiphidon]

Tensions were rising, and Daul's anger only made it suddenly become palpable. The Emperor merely watched, if he had any reaction at all it would be neigh impossible to tell by all but perhaps Esarhaddon. She could read the smallest movement of his eyes, or in this case their intensity. For a moment it was like looking at a reflection of himself, a mixture of pride and worry fleeted through him as that palpable tension grew and slowly seemed to be pressed.

Daul's anger, as mirror to Mesiphidon's own brought one thing to mind. Control, and if she had the ability to maintain it. The Potentiae was once leashed, her overflowing potential walled off by a damn of Mesiphidon's creation. Precautions, perhaps were necessary, but his actions would have another effect another meaning.

Control, the heart, the core and the defining aspect of a Dra'sin. What was revealed as the Emperor's normal presence was but a fraction of a shadow. Kept under control and hidden in an effort not to smother those around him. Mesiphidon began to gather his Magi, pulling back the wall bit by bit until that normally imposing presence became overbearing, and then all together crushing. Even the Primoris might feel as if they were suffocating from a force they couldn't discern or fully comprehend.

Finally Mesiphidon rose from his seat, the unhurried almost casual nature of his movements would only drive his point with an undeniable emphasis. Eyes bathing in a molten white flame that threatened to ignite the air. They seemed at once intent on everyone and no one. He had no need to speak works, his actions spoke them alone. Know your place. The fur mantled black cloak settling around the broad shoulders of his 6'6 form only seemed to finalize it.

Should Daul's control crack he was ready at a moments notice to slam the long forgotten collar home and keep her in check. The others he doubted would even consider rising up. "And do you wish to defy my will?" The tone of his words, completely devoid of any indication of emotion would perhaps be the most frightening. "Would you dare to challenge me?" His words were not spoken to Daul directly but to the Primoris as a whole. This was Celesin, Mesphidon had remained Emperor for time beyond end, his position always open to those who might muster the courage to take the mantle from him.

When the Emperor leaned forwards, his knuckles firm against the table it would seem a wonder it didn't crumble to dust from the force that was strangling the room. "Sune'ere will go no where near these... negotiations. He is too close, and more importantly he lacks position within the Imperium. My blood does not grant power to those who have not earned it." Even there his words were a void, yet perhaps Esarhaddon would glimpse the fleeting hint of disappointment through their bond. Now he took a moment to assess each of the Primoris before him. "If you wish to be responsible for the deliverance of my proclamation and the acquisition of Nexxian formally into Celesin. Then speak now as your positions demand of you, and then you will abide by my decision.

Could the Primoris put forth their words in a calm collective, convince the Emperor of their merit? Were they able to place the needs of Celesin above their own? It seemed now a waiting game.

[Fenris]

Fenris had expected something from Daul, but the whole scene seemed to have quickly gone tense. He raised his dark brows as he took a deep silent breathe and shut his eyes. As Mesiphidon got up, Fenris found himself wondering why the Emperor found it necessary? Was this a reaction to Daul? The whole... presence of it seemed directed at them all, but perhaps even this was controlled, perhaps this was so as to not focus his anger on any specific individual. Perhaps things had started to go down-hill when Drustan had intentionally or not, made the implication Daul was not fit to do her duty in this instance, when she was already no doubt feeling conflicted to say the least.

Then Daul had challenged anyone who questioned her, in a much more blunt fashion, and had claimed responsibility. Wondering if he had somehow offended her as well by offering, given her choice of words. He frowned slightly, he perhaps was the only one here who was considering how she might feel in his decision, but did not let that show. She was pretty much his only real investment in the place, and somehow perhaps intuitively he had known this was a place worth keeping a stake in, if nothing else for its strategic value on the Imperial Frontier of Sanctum. He felt the Emperors wrath swell, but looked at him, and he himself found no need to challenge the Emperor. Though perhaps he empathized with Daul a bit more than he admitted even to himself right now. He might just end up in her position some day.

He was the first to speak, as he weighed his words carefully, though his expression was deadpan as was his tone. "Nexxian City is already ours, they just have not admitted it, they merely need to be shown this is a fact, before The Dorians make their move." he said. "As I see it, we have two options, we can go there and demand their unconditional loyalty with an unfamiliar face and ensure resistance, which we can no doubt crush, but would cost even more resources than we have already thrown at the place, which is the cause of this entire issue... Or we can go there, and simply show them whether they acknowledge it or not, they would be in a far different state without us... I am willing to be the bearer of this message, and if need be, I can put the message far more bluntly." he resisted the urge to look at Daul at his last line. "I have very little stake in Nexxian City, my troops were placed there as a strategic initiative, but I lay no claim nor am I especially invested in being the one to do the job." he then leaned back and took a swig from a canteen, hidden beneath his cloak.

[Esarhaddon]

Esarhaddon was used to and expected her ideas to be negated and shut down the better part of the time. They always seemed to go against the grain of the general consensus— not that she minded the pervasive theme. It had her in a unique but important position; always being the one to offer a very un-Celesin suggestion which put her at odds with everyone else. But, it was important for her to speak her piece regardless and add that extra dimension to the discussion.

Likely, they thought some of her suggestions absurd. But, as a King— she was operating from an exponential consciousness and entertaining all situations from a vantage point several steps ahead of the current scenario. Not only that, but she was also an antithesis to her husband, the Emperor. Gentle of hand where he was very aggressive. Her long game seldomly lined up with his pragmatic and imperialist methodology. Still….she loved him.


As for Drustan his rather bold insinuation that she was being absurd did earn a lifted brow from the King; her pale eyes settling on him as he offered a rebuttal. Esarhaddon was in no way insulted by his obvious and incredulous reaction and meant to inform him that she wasn’t operating only from a paradigm of not causing a dramatic scene, but putting Sune’ere to work and redeeming his image in his father’s eyes. It was time for the lad to get it together and be every bit the prodigy he was born as.

At this rate she was worried that there wasn’t the largest difference between Dragos and Sune’ere at this junction. It was imperative, in her eyes, that he be thrown into a sort of official capacity in duty to the empire. She didnt want to imagine her beloved weathering the loss, symbolic or otherwise, of yet another son. And alone, in her eyes— she saw limitless potential in him. If it could just be employed and appreciated.

The sigh she heaved at Drustan compartmentalizing her suggestion as a reward was cut short as Daul slammed her fist into the table. It startled Esarhaddon enough that her hands darkened; charring black as she put one over her belly while the child inside kicked around. A slight frown as she watched Daul embody the spirit of her father all but challenge Drustan to a blood duel for insulting her and her dedication to her position.

How ugly the conference had become.

With her eyes she could see Daul was not unlike a solar flare; her core destabilizing and expanding with her temper and making a promise to enact some form of violence. Caden assauged it— she appreciated his ever present calm and diplomacy. If any of Mesiphidon’s Primoris was similar to her it was almost certainly him.

“You both raise fine points, though I fear my intentions were lost in translation” she’d say. Esar meant to speak further but she watched the only other female present turn her bloodlust laden and flaming gaze to her brother; promising violence as his words missed their mark.

Indeed, the King bristled slightly as Mesiphidon turned his gaze to Daul and successfully interpreted his reaction. Caught somewhere between an appreciation that she was so like him and understanding that his problem with his golden child, currently, also were a result of that. He’d reared her close to his chest and she worshipped him, yet had far less control than he did and a temper that matched his as well.

Now silent, Esarhaddon weathered the swell of power from the most dangerous and the eldest figure; his essence expanding enough to briefly cause her own synthetic core to destabilize and once again cause her skin to darken from the effect.

All the while she kept her eyes on the Potentiae. It didnt take a King’s sight to see that the very young Dra’sin was struggling with her own power, her place in situation and it’s hierarchy and constant need to prove herself while someone like Drustan all but put her dedication into question even if he hadn’t directly meant to. And as she could read even the most minute microexpressions, she saw on Daul’s face what no one else did: Shame in who she’d fallen for and the fear Jophiel would leave her or her father would simply call off the engagement. Daul was not as devoid of emotion and connection as Mesiphidon due to the mystery of where half her bloodline sprang from. The foundation of her existence was to make him proud— but she was sleeping with the enemy.

It was a rock and a hard place for the Potentiae, to say the least.

[Drustan]

Caden was often the calmest voice in a room—it had always been one of the man’s most attractive qualities.  Even in the heat of battle, he was cool—the lives of his subordinates relied on this coolness and levelheadedness.  A pragmatist at his core, Caden Dra’sin was more often than not the lynchpin in the harness that kept Drustan calm.  What Caden refused to let loose in anger, Drustan harbored in stalwartness. The Lieutenant, as a pivotal piece in the Primoris’ defensive line, strived to be immovable, and won his place at the table debate on equal footing with the rest of the Primoris by exploiting that exact same quality.  In the advent of his ascension, he’d gained some power and some confidence, but it all paled in comparison to the leaps and bounds by which his resoluteness had risen.  While Caden spoke his peace, perhaps bringing some immediate modicum of reason in the wake of Daul’s outburst, Drustan cycled through the shadows of emotions he still felt in the memories of his body’s muscles.  The Potentiae verbally accosted Drustan, and the Ignis responded how any warmonger feeling threatened or challenged would.  His hands, at some point balled up into tight fists, rested on the table, feeling the vibrations from Daul needlessly slamming her paws against it.  His brow furrowed, heralding the evolution of his expression from austere to maddened; the wrinkles in his brow deepened, and shoved thick eyebrows over his smoldering eyes.  He was no gifted child, and so his eyes burned crimson—bloody as bodies mangled on battlefields by Drustan himself.  Caden and his calm were what Drustan had always strove for, because it made him smart, and it helped him do his job of protecting Caden better.  That was no longer his prime objective, and so neither was being completely rational.

Drustan remained silent and motionless for all of a minute—the length of time it would take him to weigh his options and ultimately decide that none of them were as satisfying as screaming in the face of the beast.  Drustan’s knuckles burned white as small discharges of electricity breached the air around them.  The arcs traveled the lengths of his arms as they pushed him up, rising from his seat in time for another band of light to race across his torso and face.  Ferrous objects would begin to struggle against their restraints—gravitational and otherwise—in an effort to bend and move in Drustan’s general direction.  The hologram before them shook from distortions; interruptions in its beam forcing the image to twitch erratically.  Whatever Daul’s opinion of him, she could never say he feared her, whether that fear was warranted or otherwise.  But, more importantly, she didn’t respect his opinion—or at least thought it was misguided and uninformed for some reason. For what purpose would he make a claim that he did not believe in or have evidence to support?  This was the message Drustan received, and it amounted to, in so many words, that he was somehow unsuitable for assessing the situation and Daul.  Granted, without anyone dissecting the true intent of Daul’s protests, Drustan wasn’t inclined to think on the matter any further, and made his solution to the problem as simple as his analysis: make her respect you..  And so, in an effort to set this inevitability in motion, Drustan stood, all but verbally accepting Daul’s challenge—they could do it in the middle of the Bellatorium if it meant he’d get what he wanted sooner.  How Celesin’s natural defenses would deal with his aggressive response—that is, tolerate his posturing or zap him and his swell of magi—was irrelevant to Drustan who was by now preparing to drop a foot on the surface of the table, and run across it to attack Daul through the hologram.  Luckily for everyone in the room, Mesiphidon took to his feet before Drustan could complete preparations for his attack.  

The Titan attempted to suppress his underlings with what amounted to his very best dad voice.  Out of respect for the man, and acknowledgement of the overwhelming power no doubt directed at himself and Daul, Drustan froze, eyes still glued on the Amazon while he reassessed his options.  Attacking Daul wasn’t quite as worth it if it meant incurring the wrath of the emperor.  Still, the Ignis was marginally inclined to test Mesiphidon’s patience, and so until Daul sat down, Drustan remained standing; the muscles beneath his garb taut and ready for the woman to make any move that looked vaguely like she might do something other than sit down.  But while Drustan was hyper focused on the Potentiae, he listened to the emperor with baited breath.  He was caught between two actions, and thus remained frozen in his position leaning over the table, supported on the tips of his fingers.  When the floor was once again open, he opened his mouth, still waiting for some protest from Daul to set off their exchange.  “If it means a quick resolution, the Ultonis has my vote.”  Attempting once more to adopt the ways of the pragmatist—Caden’s chosen path—Drustan elected to allow Fenris to resolve the situation.  Fenris, perhaps more than Drustan and Caden, was a familiar face, and without any significant connections to Nexxian (to Drustan’s knowledge).  The Ultonis had something else that inspired Drustan’s backing; a suspicion of the Dorian empire.  For better or worse, the Ultonis was at the very least a suspicious and cautious creature by nature; having him handle Nexxian seemed wise, and left Caden to deal with other, more important matters—as he should have been doing in the first place.  Drustan had work to return to in Novus Orsa, and needed to go to Nexxian like he needed an acid bath.  This left Daul.  Needless to say, he cared little for what she chose to do if it—again—did not include sitting down.

[Daul]

It just so happened that Daul’s thoughts had been briefly focused on Caden as well, but in another way. Moreso that he seemed to always be the voice of reason; capable of placing a touch of calm back into her even in such a mindset. He’d began to speak to her, saying it wasn’t worth spilling blood over— and perhaps he was right. It truly wasn’t and yet he wasn’t doing entirely well this time compounding the sentiment she was incapable of doing her job no matter what relationship she had with the Duchess. Above all things in her mind she was, as mentioned, a Primoris. First and foremost.

Why were they insisting on ignoring it? Did they not understand what they were saying to her, that she wasn’t in possession of the necessary fortitude to do her duty? So much that, as much as it would pain and anger her if she were ordered to severe the relationship with the Duchess of Nexxian she would have seen to it immediately...at least in an official capacity?

Daul’s eyes only flicked to Caden once; looking down at him in her barely contained lust for violence— not toward him, but the one who had brazenly insulted her. And to enhance her anger he’d even taken a bit of a flippant tone with the Empress as well. It should have also been well known that the King and the Potentiae were quite close in their own strange way. It was all so close to being forgiven until the Ignis began to bleed power. Even the metal in her chair now free of her weight seemed to want to skitter across the marble floor toward Drustan and she watched her brother in arms stand and turn to face her.

Formerly, She’d only been giving him three quarters of her front. Now, she faced him fully and her own fists clenched. Daul did not, however, show him any of her power. Nothing to add toward what Magi had already been activated; her eyes burning with a need to teach him a lesson having some form of regard for his equals or betters and not to speak to them as if they were wayward children sitting miles beneath his superior intellect, strength and stature. In her mind he’d acted as if he was better and wiser than all present save for the Emperor himself. How to forgive such a thing? Don;t, of course.

She had the same frame of mind as Drustan: teach him the proper form of respect. And it brought with it images flashing across her mind’s eye of shattering his skull on the corner of the bellatorium’s table, tearing his thick limbs away from his chassis, to see teeth scattered across the floor and to tear him apart with her bare hands. Eviscerating him. It was far too violent a fantasy or plan; purely irrational, over the line...savage.

But where Drustan was the Titan, so Daul was the Berserker. She could see his blood flow had increased; knew he was warm now with aggression same as she was. And so the Potentiae smiled uncharacteristically wide— or was she simply baring her teeth? A single step toward him might have come but would have no chance for execution, ultimately. Her father stood and she could almost not acknowledge him with her mind roaring; screaming at her sink her fingers into the flesh under one of Drustan’s collarbones and tear out a pound of flesh by the grip.

Mesiphidon’s crushing power caused her violent grin to wilt and sanity slowly begin to rush back in. Daul’s mind had been blanked by pure animalism and she’d had one objective— ruin Draghurst for what he’d said. Ruin his mouth for speaking ill, ruin his mind for thinking it, ruin his body for housing such insolence and disrespect— and a flood of absolute authority from a true threat had filled it like a sieve. That ugly expression dampened and became something close to a crooked grimace; eyes narrowing as the Emperor seemed to suck all of the air out of the room and make her chest feel as if he was squeezing it himself.

Daul had no choice but to turn away from Drustan. She did not lower herself into her chair for him, but for her father. If she hadn’t de-escalated the aggression she’d caused on her own it would be a sin against her station and, of course, not even she had the power to take on the Emperor. Perhaps one day deep in the future she could stand toe to toe with the Son of Ruin but today was not that day.

When she spoke it was through closed teeth; both a result of her own anger and the still dampening violent reaction toward Drustand. “I volunteer myself...or the Fulminis. His temperament is the most diplomatic of us all.”  Someone refused to give it up in full! And while there was a growl to her voice she was making a rather obvious enormous effort to come back down to being calm and rational. Daul would have agreed that the Ultonis, the Wolf of Celesin might have been a great choice but she chose to let him speak for him— and ultimately, he did and made a fine case.

Golden eyes were kept on the Emperor alone and all while Daul forced her heavy breathing down to an even, if forced slower rhythm.

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