Fiction:Winter of Discontent

"The natural order is always the same; regardless of where you look. From the rats and pissant tribes of the desert to us, the weaker halves are always cast aside. Arcturus was my weaker half, and to cast him aside is to only grow stronger. I will keep dividing these halves until one is as strong as the foundations of the earth, and those who will try to stand in my way will return to the void as they came; bloodied and screaming."

The winter of the thirty fourth year of the New Age was the coldest winter on for over nine hundred years - marking the beginning of the next Arcadian Convergence, an event where the two realms of  align with Koldenwelt. As the severe winter was brought upon the land of Abyssus, the two brothers known as Arcturus and Julianus waged war against each other amid the disarray after the demise of  and the fall of the.

Rain of Razors
1 Tempest's Apex, 34 NA

Winter had fallen upon Abyssus; the first winter that had befell it for years beyond count. For over five thousand years, Abyssus was host to an unsleeping evil; the very influence of The Adversary and his Scion, Kalarah, caused the ground and all that lived upon it to turn away from the gaze of, thus, losing the very thing that made them what they once were. Their souls were stolen and cast into the void, and only by their defeat in the battle against them did they earn the forgiveness they had begged for; Isiris' eyes saw them once again as the clouds of Abyssus faded away with the end of the Imperator, and the Adversary banished from their lands. The stinging air of Abyssus became pure again, and the dreadful heat of its deserts were lifted. Grass was soon to grow on those plains again, as life returned to the region after five millennia of twisted magic of the void had polluted it. However, Abyssus was to experience the winter before spring could arrive.

And it was a cold winter.

Upon the very turn of winter, Abyssus' clear skies over its cold and slowly healing earth was lit up in a celestial light, as bright as the sun and as quick as a bolt of lightning. The very light drowned the great mountains to the east, bathing the flat planes of Abyssus in the white light of this phenomenon. Those that bore witness to it had to avert their gaze for only a moment. Some believed it was Isris' judgement brought upon them, whilst others thought it was the vengeance of the Adversary, and very few knew of what the light was. To those that did - the lord among them, it was the sign of the Convergence of Aethereus. Only the very long lived may have witnessed one as it was a time that occurred once every one thousand years, and lasted for almost a century at a time. It was an era of great seasonal hardships as the winters became colder, and, to those educated, it was a time of magical strength for those who bore the power to manipulate the elements of water, the air, ice and the power to cast lightning. With the Convergence of Aethereus came Abyssus' first and harshest winter for thousands of years, and by the morning of the same night, Abyssus was bathed in a dismal snow.

To some of the Shiarchon, the snow was utterly foreign. Some had never travelled much further than the Eastern Plains, and thus such an icy winter was a thing they would only read of. Over this night however, acts of violence were spread across the Sanguine Promenade - the northern road of Abyssus, as sought to retake control of his land, and the land surrounding it. The night was progressively becoming colder, as Julianus ordered those loyal to him to find the former Praetors - now warring among each other over their own lands, and round them up. They were to be given the only ultimatum Julianus would offer - to become part of his greater power or die. Many of the Praetors that were captured were done so in great confusion; they had all thought that Julianus had been killed during the destruction of Talmyr, and that the remnants of Julianus' city state had fallen into anarchy. This was far from the truth however. Julianus had indeed survived the events of Talmyr's destruction, only to have fallen into the hands of - striking a deal with their Archlord, Julianus marched eastwards back to Abyssus with a considerable number of the Gros with him, under the conditions that Julianus offered a vast populace of slaves to their increasing engine. Julianus had done so rather viciously - the province of Sazaraten near the centre of Abyssus was sacked within the autumn, their Praetor and his dignitaries crucified, and almost the entire populace - some one hundred and fifty thousand became Archlord Gnorvi's new workforce. It was of no concern to Julianus however, as one hundred and fifty thousand was but a small gift.

Aevrusarkand, Julianus' state neared three hundred thousand in size, and in Julianus' absence, believed their allegiance lied with Arcturus. Julianus' return signified a very quick mobilisation of an army - As Arcturus ordered Aevrusarkand and Satunsar Síl (his own city) to refuse the march upon the Archipelago in the summer prior, Julianus' army was still of a colossal size. The attacks upon the states along the Sanguine Promenade seemed to be almost instantaneous - whilst it did not travel as far south as Thratandrovan - the stronghold of the deceased, Julianus' span of this assault bathed the Sanguine Promenade in the bodies of the Praetors' servants. Julianus was specific in his instruction to bring the Praetors back alive, or he would order decematio for each Praetor killed. As none wished to provoke Julianus' ire, no Praetor was killed, however some of the more resistant had their legs broken, and thus were dragged to Aevrusarkand with no hope of escape.

Aevrusarkand, much like every other city in Abyssus was subject to the harsh snowfall overnight that continued into the morning - instead of being bathed in the dark crimson light of the clouds, Abyssus was now blindingly white with both snow and sunlight, and every rooftop, ranging from the slave houses at the city limits to Julianus' colossal palace was inundated with ice and snow. The winds were still ripping through the streets, bringing a blizzard with Julianus' return. The people of the city, all classes and kinds were ordered to convene at the gladiatorial arena - that was, in times of disuse the courtyard to Julianus' palace of which the arena was built against. With Julianus came many Praetors still dressed in their formal clothing from the night before, some able to walk and others forcefully dragged as their legs dangled motionlessly from their hips. Julianus took to the podium, with his closest men guarding the way. As the many people of the city came to watch the spectacle, some looked on in concern whilst others gazed encouragingly - this was perhaps an end to Abyssus in its short-lived anarchy. Julianus' voice ushered great depth and gravity, so much so that those closer to him stood further back.


 * Julianus - Brothers and sisters of Aevrusarkand! Hear my words, for my promise of order has brought you order this day! The dissident lords of the Sanguine Promenade, brought before you. Twenty one names of the former Praetors of the Adravaelic Empire, squabbling over cast lots and lands, and our people who are subject to this paltry game!

The Praetors either looked on in terror or sheer apprehension. Julianus was not one to negotiate, and his terms were absolute. It was clear to the Praetors that this would either mean life or death, although, then again, Julianus was known to alter his own terms during his demands. Nevertheless, their possessions were no longer their own. Julianus descended from the podium, this time returning with his fabled lance. It was little more than a sharpened column of Darkstone that he wielded with tremendously strange accuracy and ease, and it was also a preference of his to use in a manner of execution.


 * Julianus - I give the dissident lords of the Sanguine Promenade the simple offer of life in return for their service to me. Shall they wish to accept their servitude under me, I will give them back their lands and their wealth. In return, their deceleration of allegiance and their armies. This is the offer I give. Life...

Julianus rested his lance upon the shoulder of a Praetor - Cassianus Thracius, one that Julianus found particularly irksome to even look upon. He looked at Cassianus with his furrowed and stone like brow - his mane of hair covering his newly healed visage that still as terrifying to look upon as it was when the curse of the Shiarchon plagued him.


 * Julianus - Or death. Cassianus Thracius, you have...always found a way to grind the stones of conscience together and question the decisions of the other Praetors. I would give you this chance to repent for your doubtfulness, and trust in me the decisions to bind Abyssus together underneath a new Empire.

Cassianus was not a warrior; but much rather a negotiator, and negotiator almost always failed when faced with Julianus. Secretly, Julianus wished for Cassianus to hesitate and give him enough reason to separate his head from his shoulders, although he did not. That in itself had surprised Julianus - Cassianus was often a hesitant Praetor, though it seemed that the raw fear of Julianus himself had loosened Cassianus' tongue somewhat.


 * Cassianus - I a-accept your offer of l-life, Julianus.
 * Julianus - Imperator Julianus, Cassianus. ...Good.

Julianus continued the interrogative offer down the line as each of the Praetors accepted, seemingly without hesitation. Julianus felt invigorated by this turn of events, a small smirk appearing on his face as he found it difficult to contain his excitement this morning. As all twenty one Praetors present accepted Julianus' offer of dominance over them, Julianus then stepped back, looking over the many Praetors who looked up at him, seemingly more relieved now than they did the hour previous. Julianus laid his lance against the wall behind them, and began to speak to the populace of Aevrusarkand again.


 * Julianus - My people of Aevrusarkand. It warms me to know that the Praetors of the Sanguine Promenade have seen reason this morning, and by my decree, a charter will be written and signed to legitimise the sovereign power of Abyssus once more. Before the sun has set upon the plains of the Sanguine Promenade, unity will bring us Adravaelii together as it has done so for thousands of years.

As Julianus turned away, his men brought the Praetors to their feet, regardless of whether they were even able stand without pain. Before Julianus disappeared however, a gesture came from the Shiarchon's arm as he raised his right hand into the air. Julianus' men, behind the Praetors, unsheathed their blades in one swift movement, and one by one the Praetors brought before him had their throats slit, bathing the gladiatorial floor and the wall in front of them in the crimson blood. A sudden outburst of protest came from Aevrusarkand's populace, mostly in shock whilst others supported the surprise execution of the Praetors. It was of course, Julianus' intention to forcefully siege and remove the Praetors that he deemed a threat. He turned back to the crowd, ushering a far more violent statement, something much more typical of the Praetor's words.


 * Julianus - The dissidents of this land were fools not to have sought me for counsel and allegiance when they did, and their livelihoods will pay the blood price for it! I will return the heads of the Praetors to their families, and they indeed will understand that I, Imperator Julianus Franciscus of the Adravelic Empire, will be obeyed. There is no room for disobedience in my new Empire, and death will be the answer for it!

Julianus turned to one of his men, pointing at him with a ferocious speed.


 * Julianus - Decapitate their corpses, send their heads to their beloveds, and hang their bodies over their homes. Now. The rest of you. March to these cities and tell them that they now belong to me. Any ministers that refute this claim will suffer the same fate as their lords. Find the Praetors' families; kill their sons, enslave their daughters in any way you see fit. The wives will be brought to me alive and unharmed.

Julianus' men obeyed him without hesitance; Julianus ruled with fear and a fist that could shatter iron underneath it. It was clear to Julianus' men from the night before that he would forcefully control the Sanguine Promenade without hesitation to execute the other Praetors, although they were now uncertain as to how Julianus would extend his reach further north and towards the south - where Arcturus himself was making plans to unite his people, but perhaps not with such malicious intent.