Spedius

Gaius Spedius Imperius (c. 734 AED - 8 Decimon, 763 AED) was a diplomat, constitutional author, and leader in the early Fourth Silver Empire. Growing up in Auralis and studying in Verace during the War of Acquisition, he fled Verace prior to the Second Age of Darkness, and traveled to Stovak to work under Capal 'Crow' Anthony. After his trade carrier, the S.E.V. Portus, was ambushed by Captain Robert Bellamy of the SHSF, Spedius decried the subsequent Trade War and, along with Essendor, he founded the Fourth Silver Empire.

Spedius obtained the High Capalship of the Imperium twice:

First Term - 22 Secamon, 761 - 30 Persumon, 762

Second Term - 1 Katamon, 763 - 6 Decimon, 763

After the founding of the Fourth Silver Empire, Spedius assumed the title of 'Magister Dignitatum', or Head Diplomat of the Empire. He set about the construction of embassies for the Empire in the Destrian Empire, the O.R.C. (current-day Kofearia), as well as the Kingdom of Lanier. His deal to establish an Imperial outpost at Castrum Invio in the Stonecrest Badlands contributed to the decision of the Kingdom of Lanier to invade and destroy the O.R.C. capital at Port Gromm, resulting in the dissolution of the O.R.C.

During his first term, Spedius oversaw the War of Ascension against the Kerkidian State, which solidified the Imperium's claim as Fourth Silver Empire, as well as the Reclamation of Verace on 20 Septemon, 761. During the Kerkidian occupation of Aerie-on-the-Isle in 762, Spedius led the creation of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. to enforce the rule of the Kerkidian and Imperial-backed Royal government, which was dissolved after Kerkidian forces lost control of the Lanierian capital.

After being elected to a second term as High Capal, Spedius set about an ambitious infrastructure program within the Ventis Gulf, with the restoration of Auralis and Castrum Borea as centers of the Empire. However, during his tenure a skirmish with the Serene Republic of Elyra started the Heromon Crisis, leading to the first War of Alliances (WOA I).

The subsequent war would see the creation of the Imperial League (Later renamed the Western Coalition), but with several bitter losses for the Imperium, including the loss of Stovak and Sunkschiff. Capal Spedius declared himself 'Imperator', the first to do so since Crassus. At the request of the Imperial Board, Spedius abdicated and fled to his home of Auralis, where his body was found two days later.

## = Autobiography =

- Shady Origins -

I do not know where I came from; my earliest memory is that of a voice- a deep tone belonging to someone of assured wisdom and power:

*"Dear child, I pity the road ahead for you..."*

After that, scraps, shreds of memories... cold, dark nights, abandoned farms, scarce food and clothing. I can only assume I was living with my family, or by the grace of some farmer who had come across poor fortune in a time of civil unrest. Only now can I guess that I was born sometime during the year 734 AED, and even that estimate is uncertain.

My memory clears about the time I had reached my first decade, in a small hamlet on the southern shore of the Ventis Gulf, Auralis. It's occupants were destitute and modest, but I never could stand accepting my condition, allowing my life to progress and descend in a spiral of ignorance and poverty. I lived in the loft of the village barn, working for a local magistrate who wanted help with his job of managing the local folk; collecting taxes, raising levies, keeping accounts. It was tedious work, though I always quick to remind myself that I had come to much more favorable conditions than most of the civilians- toiling in the fields as though the world around us never existed.

Through my work for the magistrate, I was able to access the one thing that most people couldn't- books. By the age of twelve I had surrounded my self in all manner of military guides, political doctrines, and historical conquests. I studied science, history, philosophy, theology- anything I could get my hands on in the small library the magistrate owned. The more I learned, the more my thirst for knowledge increased, my productivity increased, and the more gravitas I collected. My employer, while he had sensed and acknowledged my intelligence early on, now saw that I was headed for greater things than living in this small town, and when I had come of age at 18, he gave me 5,000 Sentarii and a ticket to the Imperial City- Verace.

Needless to say, I was speechless. I rode on the next transport to the southern gates of the city, and arrived early the next evening. While the War of Acquisition was in its early phases, in Primon of 753 AED, Verace was booming. I could hear the buzzing and welding of metal in the Airworks from the other end of the metropolis, and on all sides civilans rushed to work, expecting a quick victory. I spent a day getting situated, and finally found myself at the Imperial University and Libraries. I enrolled for the season, and a new era of my life began.

My days were occupied with long, enjoyable hours of study in the University, as I learned more and more about the way of things, the geography of the world around me, the military histories of the world... I learned of the Age of Darkness, and the archer who returned to establish her kingdom at the south of the known world, and the new Pirate confederation whom now threatened to terrorize our coastlines. But probably more importantly, I learned of the Empire's history, our language, our great Imperial tradition.

I befriended a historian, Scipio Tullius, who taught me the tongue of the ancient Imperium 725 years ago; the tongue of Dreken the great, patron of Verace, first of the Capals, and the legacy which our society had forsaken. He convinced me that the pagan pantheon that was used as the scapegoat for our troubles was hogwash, and instead showed me the light of monotheism. It was around this time that I began to develop more of my identity. Until then I had no name except for Speedy, known for my quick thinking and darting eyes, but upon my graduation at the age of twenty, with Scipio present, I took on the name Spedius Imperius, to reflect my undying loyalty to the Imperial cause.

It was now Persumon, 756 AED. While I was sought after by Crassus' administration to help manage a failing Empire, I knew the war was lost. I had already made 50,000 Senarii working as an accountant in a prestigious firm during my education, I exchanged the currency for raw gold, knowing that soon our Imperial currency would be no better than kindling. I bought a ticket on one of the last unapprehended flights out of Verace, north to safety. By year's end, the city had fallen, and its people subjugated.

I lived in quiet exile in what today is Verace Nova, although at the time it was one of a series of small trading towns that dotted the Laxian Plains, many have since been abandoned, others converted into forts, still others razed to the ground. I spent my days living in a small, but cozy villa in one of the more wealthy towns, and bought books from any passing merchants using the small fortune I had amassed. I longed for the return of my Empire, but I knew it would be many years before the Kingdom of Lanier would loosen their grip on our homeland... Or so I thought.

- Imperial Ambitions -

Many months had passed since I had last heard of any Silver Empire officials from Verace. For that matter, very little information from the south at all had managed to make its way to our town. I knew only that the Silver Empire was trying to repel the Royals with one last defense at Verace itself, where they were sure to win (or so they told us). Already 1 year had passed, but still an inkling of hope attached itself to my soul, hoping for the Silver Empire to come out on top. Life in the Laxian Plains had grown dull. There was no new knowledge here, no center of learning. It was just me, spending each day by waking up, buying local food from the farmer's market, and then returning to my Villa in the hills to refresh my memory on everything I had learned while in Verace. It was around Primon of 757 AED, however, when our backwater community finally got word of the world around us; An official arrived on what seemed to be (if my memory of military advancement had been correct) a Corvette Mk.3.

I was now 21. While still in my prime I knew I had to start making progress or else I would be forgotten, just as any farmer still at Auralis would be forgotten. Pushing this thought aside, I rushed to be the first to greet the official of the Royal Navy.

His name was Captain James Adams. A minor official in the Royal Fleet. A bitter taste collected in my mouth as I realized the inevitability of the situation: The Royal Navy was triumphant, and my homeland was under foreign occupation. Nevertheless, I pressed the officer for more information, about Verace, about the Ventis Peoples. about what was left of the Silver Empire. Each time he gave increasingly depressing answers: The Capital was oppressed, the Ventis Gulf impoverished, and the Empire dismantled. I invited the officer to have some tea at my Villa while we discussed the rest of the details, and since the officer seemed infatuated with someone who seemed educated in what had been expected to be a minor town only useful for the local coal mines, he agreed.

Captain Adams told me his mission was to acquire any remaining SE supplies that may have been stored at a small military outpost south of the town; it was reported long abandoned. He was only here to gather fuel and report back to the Royal Shipyards at Stovak. I insisted that I come along, offering my technical ability to repair his communications array and increase the efficiency of his engines. Again he agreed to my proposal, and early the next morning we departed for Stovak.

The trip took roughly 6 days, as we had to maneuver around difficult mountains, but eventually we made it over the Ventis Gulf once again, and before I knew it a cluster of human activity made itself apparent. The Captain was given docking permission and for the first time in my life, I had arrived on foreign soil. Stovak, of course, was freezing. Immediately after we landed and formalities were dealt with, I bought a fur coat and a small house by the gate of the city (Today this house is the Imperial Ammunition Stores of Stovak). I quickly made myself a known member of the community, and I met many former Imperials who had fled to Stovak a decade prior to make a new life for themselves.

-Fast Forward 2 Months-

It was now the 13th of Katamon. Life in Stovak was as it always had been, and I was adapting quickly to the cold, and to the war attitudes of the people who called it home. However, that night the Royal Navy crafts, all 30-some destroyers, corvettes, and auxiliary ships, all fled Stovak without a word. The residents of the city were unsure of why the Royal Navy would so abruptly leave a settlement they had controlled for decades... until we heard the moans.

From my house, I heard the shouts of disbelief echoing from the guard towers outside. I rushed outside to see horrific decaying creatures, running straight for the city. In a panic the city gates were closed. (Luckily Stovak was used to being besieged by land). We then barricaded and barred the entrances to the city, and held a communal council in the market square.

It was then decided that all men of military age were to patrol the walls using whatever gear the Royals had not taken with them, and we were to hold off the monsters while the others would attempt to send a distress signal to someone, ANYONE, that would respond to our plight. And thus I took my place on the battlements, shooting off monsters for 6 hours, until finally the sun rose in the great Stovak Ocean to our East.

The Monsters seemed to dislike, or rather, take damage from, the harsh sunlight. They scrambled off to whatever cover they could get, the rest disintegrating due to the sunlight. After a triumphant cheer across the city, we counted our losses. 0 casualties, 4 wounded. After sending the wounded to the sick bay, it was done. We all sighed in relief, and began to prepare for the next night, when we finally got a response from a craft.

I leaned closer to the radio transmitter to listen to the transmission. It followed the lines of:

"Citizens of Stovak! Do \*static\* -ot be afr\*static\*d. This is \*static\* -pal Crow of the Silver Empire. Or at least... \*static\* what's left of it... Do not engage! I repeat, \*static\*"

We could hardly believe it. A Capal? Still fighting for the Silver Empire? Was there anyone else? Would the SE return to glory in the Kingdom's absence?

- Rising through the Ranks)

After we received Capal Crow's transmission, a flurry of excitement rose throughout the crowd. We didn't truly expect anyone to heed our plea, especially not a Capal of the Silver Empire. I immediately felt a pang of nostalgia as I remembered my days working in Verace.... But I was getting distracted. The shipyards, while still operational, were located outside of the city walls, which meant we had to get everything of importance either locked up in the airship or in the city. Finally, after 3 hours of back and forth messages sent between Stovak and Capal Crow's Raider Mk. I, (stalled by the constant intermittence of interfering static) we finally saw the Raider arise over the western horizon.

The craft looked beat up, but still functional, and I could immediately tell that it was one of the last crafts from the War of Acquisition that the Kingdom had not dismantled. Again a pang of nostalgia reminded me of the constant buzz that echoed across Verace from the Airworks. The citizens of the town opened the gates and moored the Raider, keeping it slightly afloat so the next wave of monsters would not be able to harm it. Capal Crow, looking aged and tired, yet perserverant, stepped off the loading ramp. It was obvious that he had not slept for many days, and I saw a deeper feeling underlying his weariness- an eternal flame of hatred for those who had abandoned his people when he had needed them most.

I admired him almost instantly. I tried to remember if I had heard his name before, while at University, but all that came up were battle reports and logistics requests; I cam to the conclusion that he was a General in the war. I greeted the Capal, introduced myself, and, as was custom, invited him to my house for a warm stew. He responded in a blunt, but affirmative tone,

"Yes... however, I must insist we attend to the wounded in my sick bay first. It is of the utmost priority that we raise our potential manpower."

His tactically-minded response confirmed my prediction about his occupation. Stovak gave the Capal seniority rule, and we followed his orders without question. Over the next week, with the arrival of the few remaining Veracean Capals, notably Capals Latios and Lincoln, our manpower was boosted significantly, allowing the men of the city to take shifts while on guard. It was evident that this was the most concentrated existence of SE power in the world, and soon it was taken upon Crow to establish a new government: one designed not only for the Imperial Peoples, but with a specific goal in mind, to take back the Imperial City and to get revenge on those who had put us in this position.

As I watched the new government, now called the Last of the Imperium, grow in strength and prestige, I convinced myself that I was destined to follow these Capals and to restore the name of the Silver Empire. I enlisted the day after, and,due to my educated background and help in the defense of Stovak, I was granted the rank of Pilot on the first day.

Over time, we began to repair our trade routes, first sending small fighter escorts to Sunkschiff, and then larger, more substantive Raider convoys. Eventually, we even got some arriving merchantmen from cities as far away as South Haven and Renora. It seemed that while, for the time being at least, foot cargo was impossible, the global commerce system would survive through airship transport.

About a week after enlisting, I found a Corvette Mk3, the same kind that Captain Adams piloted, landed on the snow south of Stovak. Upon entering the craft, I found no sign of conflict or human activity whatsoever, but the point of note was that the fireguns, as well as the Primary and Auxiliary turrets were filled to the brim with high-grade explosives and fire charges. Seeing the usefulness of such a find I immediately brought the ship back to Stovak for Crow and Latios to inspect.

My judgement was rewarded. Upon returning to the city with the Corvette, the Capals were so impressed with my work tht I was promoted to Director of the Raid Department (which I later renamed to Legio), despite the scoffs from the veteran Directors Mirmulnir and Aaron. Regardless, we began our work on revitalizing the Silver Empire, and we made progress remarkably quickly. It seemed that Providence was on our side.

-1 Month Later-

It was now Decimon of 759 AED. All was well in the Last of the Imperium, and we were now on the verge of making bulk freighter runs between Stovak and Aerie-on-the-Isle. But our economic good fortune was not to last forever...

- Rain of Death -

My trade carrier, the S.E.V Portus, had just returned from another successful trading run to Aerie-on-the-Isle. As I stepped off the craft, watching my Signatories unload the precious cargo that made the dangerous venture worth the risk, I noticed a silhouette in the corner of my eye. A man stood on the battlements of Stovak, scanning the west, maybe homesick, maybe deep in thought. Only twice had I met with the character, and yet I knew immediately who it was: my Capal, Caicias Aquilae.

Most knew him only as Chapter, as he had disguised his name (as had most of the other Capals) to evade scrutiny from the Royal Navy. I had heard rumors from his fighter squad that always followed him that he had been a magnificent warrior and tactician during the war, racking up so many kills that he had earned the name "Death".

As Director of the Raid Department, I took care of most of the duties assigned to the department, but I still never understood why he was so ambiguous, why he never spoke with the clarity of his colleagues. I took it upon myself to figure out his life story.

"Capal? I have returned with the shipment you commissioned," I began.

His voice was hoarse and shaky, as if I had caught him off guard.
"-Wha? Oh yes. Director Spedius... This will do for today. What did you need to speak to me about?"

"Well, Capal, out of the other Capals, I know the least about you. How did you attain your position? What was your job during the war?"

He seemed to consider answering my question for a moment, then waved his hand and made an obscure comment about how I was too young to understand the complexities of War. I was about to voice my complaint at his remark when, unfortunately, a radio comm informed me that my Carrier was ready to depart at my signal. I was used to the haste of my workers, and I made sure to pay them double for the effort. I left Capal Death, looking sinister in the moonlight, and began what would become the last trade run of the Last of the Imperium.

Unbeknownst to myself, Capals Crow, Death, and Chaos had committed several provocations against a neighboring state, the South Haven Submersible Fleet. The Stovak Port Authority had sunk at least two merchants who refused to pay the tariff for trade, and the SHSF took obvious offense to this. However, it was not enough to cause any permanent repercussions. But that was to change during the course of my week-long trade circuit.

I arrived at Aerie, late at night, on the 4th of Primon, 760 AED. I had grown a little tired of non-stop trading runs, and so I decided to spend a week, staying at a local inn and getting to know the people who had, only 2 years before, been the subjugators of my people.

To my surprise, the majority of them were quite apologetic to the cause of the Silver Empire. Under the direction of Admiral Devawn, a new mood had swung over the people, looking forward to the reclamation of the world from the monsters who had stolen it from them. While I never got the chance to speak to the Admiral myself, I visited the Royal Cathedral and took notes on many historical monuments which I had previously overlooked. However, I knew I had to return home by the 25th of Primon, and so, on the 14th of Primon, 758 AED, I departed Aerie, leaving a world at peace for a world in chaos.

On the 15th of Primon, I received a transmission from the Directory: The state of Destria, former signatory engineers who had fled and started their own nation in the south-west, had been given an ultimatum by the Capals: Peacefully accept the hegemony of the Empire and rejoin their brethren in Stovak, or be annexed by force. This was the breaking point for the SHSF, whom, under the iron fist of Captain Bellamy, refused to stand by and watch their old rivals, the Silver Empire, once again strike fear into the hearts of the people. Calling on the Old Alliance, he mobilized a fleet to monitor several key trading points, with a personal ambush led by him... on the S.E.V Portus.

At noon on the 16th, I stood on the bridge, east of Fogholt, approaching the Eastern Argean Sea. When I was about to retire to my cabin, a radar ping came in.

"Sir, airskiffs piloted by Captains Bellamy and Eckener are to our bow," my pilot noted.

I sent out the customary hail, and was beginning to inquire their purpose this far from civilization when I realized something was wrong.

"GET OFF THE SHIP!" I shouted to the pilots.

The last message of the S.E.V. Portus was only, "Oh god, why?!", before the SHSF monopods began their rain of death.

A blizzard of bombs, precipitating from the heavens, began the fall of the Silver Empire. Their explosive contents shredded through the ceramic armor on my flight deck. and tore into the vulnerable gas bags underneath. A massive, unarmed carrier like the Portus was no match for such quick, calculated opponents.

I and a small group of crew managed to escape into the ocean, barely making it to the coast by the time the craft stopped.
The carrier had been engulfed in flames, held only aloft by minor undamaged ballast cells, while the flight deck, and the 8 million senarii of cargo inside, was decimated. I could only stare, in unprecedented shock, at the carnage that had just occurred. The financial power of a recovering empire had just been halved by a single, deadly blow, as the Captains buzzed overhead, no doubt laughing at my plight.

One of the captains shouted down to me: "Want a boat, Gray?"

I could only shout back my pitiful attempt at preserving my dignity. I managed to send a comm using a personal radio I kept on myself to Director Essendor, informing him of the attack. The Trade war had begun.

I instructed the survivors to wait for a salvage party, if possible, and I trekked to Renora by another way.

- Imperium Novae -

The ensuing war was swift and brutal. The Old Alliance, still militarily superior, decimated the premature beginnings of the Imperial Legions. The people felt miserable. For the duration, I ventured north, from Renora, then on to Stovak, to aid the Capals once again. I had my first taste of true war, the kind of war where your life is on the line and your heart beats so fast that you can't tell its rhythm from the gargle of airship engines behind you. Fortunately, I only was conscripted to fight in the last front of the war, the Last of the Imperium's final stand, to push against South Haven itself, to desperately turn around this war.

Capal Crow led the battle. We moved in formation, for hours, fending off wave after wave of fighters. Once in awhile an unlucky ace would get bombed, and fall to the icy waters below like a sack of lead. That was the first time I had heard the cries of death and suffering, even on my carrier those who had died had done so without comprehension thereof, silently slipping from existence. Overall, the enemy took more casualties than we did, but our supplies finally gave out. We retreated to Renora.

That night, Director Essendor convened a council with myself and Capal Crow. We spoke, and then departed under the cover of night. Trade must continue.

The next morning, Essendor proclaimed himself Capal- not only that, but a new title- "High" Capal. I stood behind him the entire time. He spoke to the world:

"Citizens, We must throw off the cloak of tyrants and return our nation to her true light- we must desire peace, until peace can be obtained no longer, we must ensure a home for the people of the Empire."

The message spread like wildfire. Thousands revoked their citizenship of the old Empire, now called the Imperium Vetus- so many, in fact,that Crow was forced to surrender. At the treaty, I stood to the side, watching some previously unknown terror of rhetoric spring forth from Essendor. The former Capals were forced into exile. A new Empire was born.

As part of the new inauguration, Essendor awarded me the title of Capal, along with a modest promotion ceremony in the Cathedral of Aerie. We were promised a military alliance with the Kingdom, and soon, the air was alight with merchants once more. The world was progressing toward enlightenment.

Over the next few months, I kept logs of my life, accounting, as first the Magister Militum of the empire and then the Magister Dignitatum, founding the League of Cartography, which would document the change in political geography of the world back for generations. Every few weeks we would have some skirmish with the remnants of the Imperium Vetus, and at one point they even barricaded themselves in the ruins of the former Crassus' airworks, but, over time, the relations settled.

Our world was at peace, for the most part. The prosperity of all increased, and the horrors of war remained a thoughtless blurb at the back of society's mind.

A few years later, however, the tremors of war rose up once again, this time over the decayed steeples of an ancient capital...

- Ascension -

By now I had aged, I had seen the world, and become sculpted by it. Although still young I began to see wrinkles appear, however, Essendor always made sure to check up on me, to see that I was fine. He was as close to a father as I could ever hope for.

One day, as I was shuffling papers in the Embassy in Lorave, I received a letter from my friend:

"Board meeting soon. Return to Stovak. I have a surprise.
~Ess"

With a glimmer in my eye I raced to Stovak in my transport.

When I arrived, the current High Capal, Latios, was announcing his resignation. A new election was in session.

"What do you intend to do?" I asked Essendor.

He only smiled, and then walked forward into the center of the room.

"Friends, it is time for new leadership. I have brought you all thus far, but I must now put forth a candidate just as capable as myself- Spedius."

The vote was near unanimous. I was now the most powerful person in the realm.

I began the next era of the Imperium with a joke:

"What's old and broken, but still more valuable than a heap of quartz?"

"What?" the congregation replied.

"Verace."

Over the next few weeks the race was on to prepare for the retaking of our capital. We would do what Crow could not; we would restore the Silver Empire proper. However, unbeknownst to us, The Imperium Vetus brewed hatred from the airworks at their new found city, Kerkida. They began harassing us, until, one day, They seized a shipment of quartz. The board was called to order, and war was declared. We would eradicate the militants and ensure the continuity of the Imperium.

Unfortunately, the war was a complete failure from the beginning. Our military was incapacitated. Latios, and his Director, Lucenious, were unable to repulse the enemy. Kerkida pushed for Stovak.

It was a stormy day, when we awoke to the seemingly endless fleets of Kerkidan warships- similar to their older designed, but darker, with streaks of green.

Again, the horrors of war made themselves apparent. However, at the last moment, we received enough support to retain air superiority, and they were cast away.

The war continued for a few more weeks after that, but it was never again quite the same. One last time, about 2 months later, they tried to take Stovak, and were utterly defeated.

Now Kerkida gave way, their claim to Verace was rescinded, and, at the Treaty of Verace, the Imperium Argentum was commemorated to be the true Silver Empire once again- together with my friends we had made the Silver Empire stronger than she ever had been.

During the Imperial March into Verace, an emissary reached me.
"Sir?" he asked, "Capal Essendor has.. well... died."
Shock. Anger. Confusion.

"Where is he?"

"That's the problem. Sir. He's gone. All traces, but he left a note, purportedly suicide. We think he drowned himself in the Gulf."

- Royal Pain -

It had been almost 2 years since Capal Essendor had died mysteriously, amidst the restoration of the Imperium.

His death was the only defect, the only tear in the wondrous, exorbitant tapestry which was the restoration of the Silver City, and with it, a new era for the Imperium had opened. However, the modest Capal's passing left the first signs of decay in the Imperial optimism- we had come so far, but only as a group, only together, only with the ideal emblazoned in our hearts that the mistakes of the leader must not be taken out on the innocent citizen. Now that ideal was cast aside as self-preservation attempted to hold her ground as a flood of hatred loomed just on the other side of the great Ventis Gulf.

I sat quietly in my office. Because it was on the 20th story of Victoria Tower it was quiet, except for the monotonous noise of airship engines in the distance, again a hubbub of people in the streets. It was rare to find this silence, among the cataclysms of world war, and even now, in this one brief moment of solace, my ideals fought among each other, dueling to the death over the direction which this empire, nay, this entire side of the war should take. Finally, I could stand no more. I retreated to my hometown, far to the south, for the first time since I was just a boy of 16. An entourage of Inquisitors and pilots demanded to come with me, but I finally, amidst much debate, persuaded them to leave me be. I was going home.

Auralis seemed to be the one constant in this empire. People had changed, grown older, the fears and opposition to a corrupt government had all but disappeared. My people trusted that I would maintain the ideals of my mentor, when, so long ago, we fought together against the tyranny of Capals past. I arrived alone, by horse, cloaked as a wealthy merchant coming to sell his wares. Among me stood the familiar stucco villas, the smell of eucalyptus and cypress. A calm, salty breeze reminded me of the days I had spent walking along the shores, in my free time as an accountant who worked for the local magistrate. Slowly I meandered, through the streets, looking for a refuge from the storm whose will seemed interminable among the million other voices screaming in opposing directions. Why could I not find peace?!?

As the day continued lazily on, I finally found myself casting my shadow on an old barn in the late afternoon sun. At first I paid no notice, but something in the corner of my consciousness kept nagging at me, imploring me to return. Finally I turned around. Details started to come back to me: The stumps of old trees which had since come down, the rusting iron handles which had once commanded these doors- even the fading glimmer of the paint which for so long had beckoned me home after my work to welcome me to another night's sleep. This was the barn, the Castrum Spedii, as I had called it, which housed my earliest hopes and dreams. I carefully ventured inside.

A ray of light proceeded down from the hole in the wall which once was used to carry hay bales, and from the light which it shed again a wall of nostalgia reminded me of my past. I almost forgot who I was, my status, my life in service to the empire as I giddily skipped and jumped across the barn to the rotting remains of my straw cot, the rusted chest which stored those drawings and documents which shaped my life and set me on the trajectory which had led me here. It was all I could do to not throw off my cloak and dance, such was my euphoria.

I could wait no longer, these wrinkles of war and memories of pain would haunt me forevermore if I were not to recount my childhood adventures. I stepped in to open the trunk.

A shadow was cast behind me, and I fell to the ground in surprise, as a silhouette I dared not recount towered like the steeples of the towers of Verace above my countenance of horror.

- From Dust We Are Made... -

Essendor stood behind me. His face was withered, but still a flicker of a smile could be detected from under his cloak.

"Why?" was all I could manage.

"You have come too early, friend. This world is not yet ready. That is why this meeting must take place. Here. Now."

"And this war?"

(I was choking back tears)

"You have fallen to their level. Our spirit, the true spirit of the empire, was immaterial. Your colleagues have fallen into the trap of valuing land over honor, money over moral."

"But... we have traded our entire lives! For what purpose if not material power?"

"I was once young too."

(What could he mean? Where had he been all this time?)

"And yet, there is nothing else. Nothing else, to prove that we few once stood against the forces of entropy. Nothing else to stay after us. Can you truly bear that fear?"

"You never understood, did you..."

"Understood... what?" My voice was becoming hoarse.

"We must leave." His voice was growing with passion

"To Verace?"

"No! Fool! We must *leave*."

"Death? What else can you mean?"

"We must revert our work. Let this war take its course. It is of no importance to you."

"I will return. Will you be here?"

"Always, until you come with me, away from this inferno."

I returned to Verace. Reality was fading.

Months passed. My power as a Capal was unquestioned by my subordinated, but the strains of the world around me took their toll. When my people died, a part of my morale died. When the women and children of the realm wept, I wept. The war would make me a broken man, an irrational man- a desperate soul.

Stovak was razed.

Bridges destroyed.

Legacies tarnished.

Sunkshiff in ruins.

The war took its course.

Finally, I broke.

In a fit of rage, of diseased corruption, a malevolent manifestation of everything I had learned, from the true feelings of Crassus to the hatred of men, I went mad with power, as a cornered lion backed against a corner with no escape in sight. I knew my actions would be my last mark on history. I knew that after this short time of being the center of the world, my time on this world would end. So I went as far and as deep as I could, with no intention except to release the years of rage I had accumulated.

"Imperator Spedius, I am yours to command."

Establishing the Silver Empire, rescinding our flag, our motto, our people, I had become the very thing I had detested with all my soul since I had taken Directorship under the careful watch of Crow:

I became Crassus.

My reign of terror did not last long, but I made sure that it ran deep, so deep that no man would ever forget the name "Gaius Spedius Imperius"

Finally, the Imperial Board, the last vestige of Essendor's idealism brought the might of my people against me, and with it the reign of the tormented, misunderstood diplomat, merchant, historian, scientist, High Capal and now Imperator came to an end. With Old Alliance ships again at the gates of Verace and the Imperial League torn to shreds, beset by revolutionaries who had once cheered my name in the streets, I knew finally the truths that all fallen monarchs must know: that my work had meant nothing; the cleansing passage of time and chaos would purge all.

I resigned without opposition to the demands of my Board. I wrote a short message to my people in the old tongue, and with that, my time in the world of Airship Pirates, officially, had come to an end. The tragedy of my life had one final epilogue, however, one last episode of significance before I bid you all farewell. That episode is the story of my death, and my return to reality.

Even with the sound of cannons in the air, and smoke covering the entire gulf, Auralis still seemed timeless. Peaceful. Untouched. I returned to the barn.

"Essendor?"

"I am here."

"I am ready."

"Come, I will show you. It is time to ascend."

"Will... will I remember? The men I met? The lessons I've learned?"

"Only if you choose to. Only if you decide that your time here was not in vain. That decision is not mine to make."

"Very well. My youth has ended, and another world awaits."

"*Et in Arcadia ego.*"

A young boy stood outside his house, watching the world around him crumble. His dog rolled around in the grass to his feet, and he turned to pet its fur. As he bent down, however, he saw an old barn to his side. In it, two people stood, facing each other in the dark.

The boy blinked.

The players were there no longer.

-FIN-