The floor was really the only thing Serenity could easily look at and it had its own issues. It looked like marble from a distance, but when they actually stepped on it, it was more like stepping into it. Serenity’s feet sank a couple of inches into the surface, which looked more like clouds than stone. Maybe it literally was cloud marble?
Serenity had the impression of a grand entrance, but all he could really make out beyond the eye-searingly bright coating was an impression of columns on either side of a tall facade. They were probably carved, but it was impossible to be certain with the star’s light reflecting off the coating material.
When they passed through the gigantic, fifteen-foot-tall double doors, it became easier to see. The doors were the only things covered in the eye-twisting coating. The floor was still cloud marble, creating foggy disturbances with each step, but the walls were far more sedate.
They were covered with intricate mosaics that seemed to evoke different scenes; the one to Serenity’s right was clearly a man fighting on his own against a horde of animate trees, while the scene to his left was a cityscape that could have come from many of the areas they’d passed over on the way to the Palace. Serenity assumed that the scenes were probably important ones from the Empire’s history, but he didn’t know that history well enough to identify them.
The edges of each wall and around each doorway had a geometric repeating pattern that almost seemed Escher-like. Serenity could see several weapons, two different poses for what had to be humans, a couple of birds, a lizard, and a fish in the various patterns as well as simpler geometric shapes between the different mosaics, which somehow managed to all match even though no two of them were the same.
The ceiling was a simple reflective white, like it was trying to tell you to look anywhere else. It took Serenity a moment to realize that it wasn’t actually reflective; instead, it glowed with a soft white light. That explained why it seemed so plain; it was possibly even more expensive than anything in the room, even the cloud marble, since the enchantment that made it shed light wasn’t visible.
Cymryn didn’t seem to notice the grand surroundings as he led them on a twisting route through the palace past a number of other murals. It was not actually far from the entrance when he stopped in a room that was different from everything they’d passed; instead of murals, the walls were covered in dark blue cloth. Serenity wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that there were murals behind the cloth, but it made the room feel a lot more comfortable at the same time it seemed darker.
The room held a circle of dark blue plush seats set around a low table that held a pitcher and a number of mugs. Cymryn scooped up a mug and poured some dark brown steaming liquid from the pitcher into it. He took a sip, then grinned and settled into one of the seats. “Aaah, so good. He knows we’re coming and he’s happy. C’mon, find a seat.”
“He?” Serenity picked a seat, then poured himself a mug of whatever the drink was.
“My grandfather,” Cymryn admitted. “He wants to meet you. I probably shouldn’t say too much more, but he’ll be the person who decides what to do about Earth, among other things.”
Serenity took a sip of the drink and immediately knew why Cymryn thought his grandfather was happy to see them. It was rich and sweet, but the most important thing was that it was high Tier and mana-infused. Serenity was fairly confident that it was actually high Tier, too, and not just high Tier compared to what he’d been eating recently; his tiny sip caused a positive explosion of tasty mana. He wasn’t going to be able to drink much of whatever it was.
Serenity was about to ask who Cymryn’s grandfather was that he would serve such an expensive beverage to people who probably couldn’t fully appreciate it since their Tier was too low when the door at the other end opened to reveal a man dressed in a long blue robe trimmed in something that looked a lot like the sparkling material that coated the outside of the Palace.
“Lord Cymryn, World Shaman Senkovar,” the man nodded at each of them in turn. “No, stay seated, this is informal.”
Serenity hadn’t even started to stand, but he noticed that both Cymryn and Senkovar had. He was uncertain how to take that; it made sense that Cymryn would stand if the man was higher in his own hierarchy, but did that mean that Senkovar knew who this was?
It probably did. It probably hadn’t even occurred to Senkovar that Serenity didn’t know.
“You must be Sovereign Serenity. Tell me, have you chosen a title or a name for your empire?” The man strode towards the group as he talked, then folded himself into the empty seat and poured a drink.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Cymryn’s mug clinked on the table as his hand wobbled before he set it down. He didn’t pay it any attention; his eyes were on Serenity as he mouthed the word “empire?”
Serenity felt a grin forming at Cymryn’s disbelief as he shrugged. “Not quite an empire when I don’t really rule, now is it? I may technically be Sovereign, but I’m not going to be involved in the act of governing that much. It’s not my skill set.”
Cymryn’s grandfather’s face creased into a slight smile. “Then you don’t know much about empires. You might say that that’s exactly what an empire is, a group of all too independent worlds bound together by the power of an emperor.”
Serenity shook his head. “An emperor should do more than that. Set the direction of the empire, make decisions the provinces don’t want to, set overall policy including military policy…”
The other man sighed. “True enough. I think you’ll find you end up doing much of that one way or another, if you stay in the position you’re in. You can’t have your clients fighting each other, can you?”
Serenity silently shook his head. He had to admit that that didn’t sound good.
“It’s clear you don’t know who I am. Call me Dinav; I’m the one behind Cymryn’s most recent assignments. You did snatch the ancient relic from Asihanya that he was after, didn’t you?”
“Ancient relic?” There was only one ancient relic Serenity could think of on Asihanya, the Broken Mirror. “It wouldn’t have opened for him anyway; he’d probably never have found it. If he did and pushed his luck, it would have killed him.”
Dinav seemed startled by Serenity’s admission. “Then I should be thankful. What is it?”
Serenity shrugged. “An organization’s internal library. Well, part of the records, really. It’s old stuff from before the Terror War. It’s very specialized.”
Serenity was fairly confident that the library actually predated the Voice. He couldn’t be completely certain, since there wasn’t anything in the Broken Mirror about that, but he was still fairly confident. Everything added up that way.
“How did you get in if Cymryn couldn’t?” Dinav sounded oddly calm for someone saying words that should have been an accusation. “Did you know something about it beforehand? I know you didn’t spend much time on Asihanya.”
Serenity thought he’d spent plenty of time on Asihanya. Still, Dinav had a point; for finding something like the Broken Mirror, it really wasn’t that much time. If he’d known where to look, it wouldn’t have been much faster. Serenity gave a sort of a half shrug and admitted how he’d gotten in. “It belonged to Order’s Guild, or more likely Order’s Council.”
Dinav pointedly looked at Senkovar. “You doing, then, Councilor?”
Senkovar chuckled softly. “I should have guessed you’d know. No, not mine; I didn’t know Serenity existed then. You should know that from your grandson’s reports. He’s affiliated with Althyr.”
Dinav’s mouth tightened and he turned his gaze on the enchanted pitcher. “Ah, Althyr. Of course.”
“If you didn’t want him angry at you, you shouldn’t have kicked most of the dragons out of the Empire,” Senkovar stated.
“That wasn’t my policy, as you well know, oh marvelous tutor. I never did understand your obsession with history.” There was no real bite in Dinav’s words. Instead, he seemed to regain a little of the amused expression he had when he entered the room.
Senkovar responded with a grin that he forced into a stern expression. He even tapped the side of his head to emphasize his seriousness. “Which reminds me, I really should announce that Suratiz now looks to a dragon.”
All traces of humor and in fact expression vanished from Dinav’s face. He clearly didn’t take it for the joke Senkovar seemed to mean. “A dragon. Which one?”
Senkovar’s grin widened. “Why, Serenity, of course. You did know that he’s a dragon, didn’t you?”
Dinav raised his eyebrows and glared at Cymryn for a moment before he turned back to Senkovar. “Why haven’t you ever gotten over your desire to needle people?”
Senkovar shrugged. “Because it’s fun? I so rarely run into people who are higher Tier than I am that I can needle.”
Serenity wasn’t certain what Tier Dinav was; he’d kept his aura tightly controlled. If Senkovar said he was higher Tier, then he was higher than Serenity as well. At this point, it was probably not relevant; Senkovar certainly didn’t seem to expect a fight.
Dinav rubbed his forehead. “What other surprises are you going to spring on me? Did you get Althyr to agree to defend Suratiz, too?”
Serenity shook his head. “No, probably just Earth, at least for now.” Serenity closed his mouth before he added that there would only be a few other dragons supporting Earth, at least so far. He had hope that by the time Earth’s protection was gone, the whole Council of Dragons would be ready to support Earth. Althyr had implied that was a possibility once they knew dragons could safely breed on Earth.
Dinav closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I suppose it’s just as well that we weren’t planning to attack Earth right after the portals open. I wonder how many of the independents are going to be foolish?”
He seemed to be talking to himself, so Serenity waited. He’d done the same thing, more than once.
After a moment, Dinav seemed to refocus on Serenity. “I know you hold Lyka and Aeon; the coup was obvious and while your Governor has done well, she couldn’t quite hide that there was someone behind her. She’s been far less interested in overtures than anyone without backing should be after a coup. What I don’t know is what your other planet is. I’ll find out, but it will be easier if you just tell me.”
Serenity shrugged. At this point, he didn’t see any point in keeping it secret. It might even be better; Tzintkra was a planet that no one else could conquer unless they killed him first. It might even be a useful bargaining chip, since it was a good training planet. It helped that the Empire was unlikely to be interested in it; unlike Lyka, Tzintkra wasn’t a good planet for humans. “Tzintkra.”