Chapter 1: 1 - Shifting Power

Year: 786 A.P.

“General Yudha, we’ve taken the capital! King Thisavros is in custody along with his queen and three sons. General Aimodipsis was compelled to commit ritual suicide for his failure before we could pin him down.”

“Casualties?”

“Unknown at this point.”

“Keep me posted. Pass Commander Rapax my compliments. His plan was ingenious,” General Callida Yudha sighed heavily, mostly from relief, and the messenger left with a stiff salute. Another steadying exhale, and Callida found the war horn tied to her saddle, lifting it to her lips to blast the news of their victory to her men still engaged in combat in front of her — a call that was repeated and magnified across the vast fields outside the city walls of Grypa Kardia. The beginning of the end. Reins in one hand, sword in the other, the young general supported the relentless advance of her Lion Tribe infantry by urging her horse back into the fray to break a regrouping formation of the enemy Griffin Tribe soldiers. Recklessly diving behind the enemy lines and spurring her horse down the line of scrimmage as far as her momentum could take her, her charge left a bloody wake of slashed and trampled corpses that never saw her coming until it was too late to get out of her way. The thinned enemy were quickly overwhelmed, the breach in their ranks giving the lions an opportunity to flank them.

Callida’s horse slowed incrementally, forcing her to return to her own ranks and ending her personal slaughter for the time being.

“I know you didn’t just do that,” someone yelled over the cacophony of steel and shouts. Callida turned to find Commander Baca glaring at her from where he was perched atop his own horse. Freckles, strawberry blonde hair, broad but wiry build, Baca had been one of her men since her first command assignment. “Yes, you, General! I know you didn’t just do something so completely stupid!”

She rolled her eyes but flushed from the sudden sheepishness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His eyes narrowed at her, but now was hardly the time to argue.

“Right flank, move in!” Baca shouted instead, the shout repeating through the ranks until the men pressing the position where Callida had come from pushed just a bit harder, and the griffin line crumbled.

Callida moved further down the line, looking for areas that were struggling to advance or where there were obvious weaknesses to exploit. She didn’t get very far before a horn blasted in a syncopated rhythm and the Griffin Tribe armies began to fall back to the city only to find that the city had been taken in their absence. Surrounded, exhausted, demoralized, and lacking in rallying leadership, the griffins were left with little choice but to surrender.

It was hard to feel victorious when a glance at the field before her, littered with bodies, promised a high casualty count on both sides. The campaign as a whole was one she had resisted for the better part of a year, but when the griffins had traded prisoners for General Eristikos only to have him publicly executed and replaced by a man like General Aimodipsis early last year, Callida knew this would be unavoidable. Aimodipsis was a military leader more interested in conquering than winning ethically. His unapologetic, cowardly targeting of civilians and aggressive invasion efforts had required Callida and her commanders to retaliate with a brutality that, frankly, she still felt guilty about. But this was war, and breaking the griffins’ spirits seemed the only way to end such senseless bloodshed. Which was why they were here at the capital, slaughtering the Griffin Tribe armies, capturing their leaders, pushing and pushing with nothing short of a swift and violent victory the only acceptable option, for hesitation here would mean the desolation of more Lion Tribe towns and cities.

“Baca, report!” Callida demanded as she rode through the carnage.

“We are securing the prisoners and putting them to work burying the dead.”

“As you were.” Callida nodded and rode on to the next section of the field to demand reports from the rest of her commanders. “Arum, report!”

“We are in control of the situation, Ani– uh… General Yudha. Primordials. I know you're married, but you're still 'Animo' in my head. You do realize that I will never get used to that, right?”

Callida snorted. “You might be the only person allowed to get away with that.”

“Such high honor,” Arum cheesed. “General, are you ready for me to accompany you to the palace? Rapax will be waiting–”

“Yes, I know,” Callida cut him off. “I need to check in with the rest of the commanders.”

“... Or are you just stalling?”

Her face twisted in annoyance as Arum, predictably, called her out on the exact thing she wasn’t eager to admit to herself or anyone else. That’s what she got for promoting and keeping close one of her best friends of the last seven years. “Both,” she countered tersely.

“I think your commanders have everything well in hand.” Arum grinned in a knowing tease, his soft, intelligent brown eyes shining despite his gore-stained, handsome face and sweat-matted, blonde hair. “What’s got you so worked up?”

She growled defeat low in her throat. “I’m not a diplomat.”

“No, I suppose not,” Arum agreed, “but then what’s the point of all the letters you’ve been writing back and forth to the Lion King?”

“Having a list of demands and conditions for a truce and eventual treaty hardly translates into me being a diplomat.”

Arum rolled his eyes. “Whether you consider yourself a diplomat or not, Animo, you’re good at it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, please. How many years have you spent bossing princes and kings alike around?”

“I do not boss them around,” Callida huffed.

Arum put on a fake voice in an overly high-pitched falsetto. “Here’s the plan for the next year of everything, and I’m going to go win a war now, so make sure you do all of your chores, play nice with the other kids, and keep things in good condition while I’m gone.”

“What voice was that?” Callida laughed and Arum shrugged.

“My point is, Animo, you’re going to be fine.”

“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, I guess.”

“Let’s get Commander Vir and assemble the entourage.” Arum smirked, nudging his horse to follow her while they collected the rest of the group predetermined to escort the general to her negotiations with King Thisavros.

***

“Good evening, Rapax. It’s good to see you in one piece. How did everything go?”

“All is well, General,” Rapax declared with a confident nod, falling into step with Callida to guide her through the massive, gothic hallways with high, vaulted arches and chiseled columns between walls of windows on one side and the periodic door on the other. “We got away with very minimal casualties.”

“The aqueducts were a good way in. Good call, Rapax.” Callida’s return nod came less easily.

“You’re nervous.”

“Today is one of those days you work to reach, but never expect to see,” she laughed, and indeed, she sounded nervous. “Any tips?”

Rapax frowned in mild amusement. “General, you have more experience with these sorts of things than I do.”

“No, I mean, you’ve been observing the king, his family, his crisis response. Do you have any related thoughts to impart before I walk in blindly?”

“Uh, the princes don’t seem to like each other very much. The queen is probably the only ‘nice’ person in the room. Well, maybe the youngest prince isn’t so bad. The king is just mean, or maybe that’s his way of handling crisis?” Rapax shrugged. “It’s not as though I’ve been invited to tea with them, General. They don’t like me very much, and they’ve been guarded with Lion Tribe soldiers surrounding them as you might expect.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“How old are the princes? There are three of them?”

“Uh, yeah. Three of them. My rough guess for ages was thirty-five, thirty, and twenty-five, but I’m not sure.”

“Hm. And they don’t like each other?”

“‘All a bunch of spoiled brats in my opinion.” Rapax shrugged again. “I don’t really like them either.”

She snorted. “Ok. Thanks, Rapax. I’ll… bear that in mind.”

“Through here, General. We’ve been holding the royal family in the throne room.” Turning down a grand hallway that led away from all the windows and deeper into the castle, a pair of elaborate, arched doors framed by great, carved columns appeared on the right. Callida approached the throne room doors, pausing to the sounds of raised voices from within.

“... now, your high and mightiness?!”

“Acting like a child isn’t helping your cause, Sfyri!”

“Like you’re any better, Optikos! Not two minutes ago you were blaming Skiasmenos for somehow failing to do his job overseeing the palace guard. Like this is his fault?! You were the one responsible for the war council with General Aimodipsis, and now he’s dead, we’re stuck in here, who knows what’s become of our military and our people, and you still think blaming this on other people is going to make a difference?”

“Sfyri, don’t pick another fight on my account. We’re all just… on edge.”

“No, Skias! He’s the one blaming everyone else for his failings! How is it that Mister Lack-of-accountability is in line for the throne with–”

“That’s enough!” A tense silence fell on the other side of the door, and Callida waited a moment to see if anyone would speak again. “When this is over, however it ends, you will all be punished for your insufferable bickering!”

“Fanos, leave the boys alone. For my sake?” the first female voice she’d heard, presumably the queen’s voice, asked timidly.

“The ‘boys’ of whom you speak are grown men, Asimana. They don’t fit behind your skirts anymore.”

“Oh, but they’re good boys!” Asimana protested with an impassioned, somewhat delusional cry. “They don’t mean to fight, do you boys?” Indistinct mutterings and half-hearted apologies were followed by “there! See! They’re good boys.”

Callida snorted at the absurdity of a group of men her age and older being referred to as “good boys” and turned to find Rapax similarly fighting to hide the laughter on his face. And how kind of them to introduce themselves to me. Once Rapax had regained control of himself, Callida nodded, and Rapax ordered the doors open to reveal a giant square room framed on all sides by more carved stone pillars surrounding a recessed central floor. A great, elevated and gilded throne sat between the columns across the way from the door — the highest seat in the room. The royal griffins stood gathered around this symbol of their status.

“Commander Rapax,” King Yperifanos Thisavros, identifiable for his relative age to the other, younger royals, sneered coldly, “welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Rapax returned with subtle sarcasm. “Allow me to introduce you to Lion General Callida Yudha.”

The collection of eyes shifted towards her, and Callida put on her falsely pleasant smile. “Thank you, Rapax.” And she waited in calculated silence, encouraging the awkwardness to permeate the atmosphere and render her opponents disquieted for the prolonged moment spent staring each other down. The fact that she was still soaked in battle gore had nothing to with the fear in their eyes, right?

“You are the Lion General?” one of the princes scoffed, and based on his voice, Callida identified him as Sfyri, or more accurately, the second prince, Sfyrilato.

“Yes.” Neutral, unconcerned, Callida continued to smile at the king and his sons.

“I’d heard that the Lion General was female,” the Griffin King mused. “I hadn’t expected you to be… young.”

“And how old would I have to be to not be ‘young’ in your eyes, Your Majesty? Or is youth a matter of experience rather than age? Or perhaps it’s all simply relative to him who determines for himself what youth looks like?”

“And a philosopher?” King Thisavros smirked in a way that made him look predatory.

“Hardly. My ‘youth’ is a tired subject, Your Majesty,” Callida stated matter-of-factly, effectively shooting down further discourse on the subject. “I am here to issue the demands of the Lion Tribe government and to discuss the cessation of hostilities to end this war.”

“You think you can barge into my palace and just demand peace?!”

Callida laughed a quiet, social laugh. “Oh, Your Majesty, I just did!” She allowed her face to twist into something significantly less friendly. “Our demands are quite simple: your tribe’s unconditional surrender, your abdication, but we will allow one of your sons to take the throne in your stead, the immediate release of all Lion Tribe prisoners both military and civilian, an investigation into and the execution of General Aimodipsis’s corrupt advisors and top military officials as he is no longer around to answer for the blood of committed war crimes himself, and a handful of tributes to the Lion Tribe would go a long way to appease the people whose homes General Aimodipsis ordered destroyed.”

“I will never agree to such… outrageous demands!” the king declared.

Callida shrugged. “It would be simple enough to kill you and then work with whichever of your sons agrees to cooperate. Let’s see. Crown prince Yperoptikos? I’m guessing that’s you,” Callida said silkily, eyeing the prince Rapax had guessed to be about thirty-five years old. “Are you ready to step out of your father’s shadow?”

“I….” Put on the spot, Yperoptikos required a moment to think. Surprise and understanding gave way to a cruel glint in his eyes. He smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to kill my father,” he said, choking back bubbling laughter, “but I’m sure that we could reach a mutually agreeable solution.”

“Optikos! How dare you?!”

“Hm,” Callida’s eyes narrowed and moved down the row of princes, locating the next in line to the throne as the king continued to rant and rave. “Prince Sfyrilato?”

“Yes… General?”

“And what do you have to say about all of this? Do you think your brother would make a worthy king?” Callida asked, baiting him with artificial sweetness.

“He isn’t fit for the throne,” Sfyri snarled under his breath, and it was not lost on Callida how much hatred brewed behind his eyes for his older brother.

“And why not?”

“He only cares about himself,” the low hiss continued.

“And what do you care about? Or are you also out to gratify yourself?”

“I’m thinking of the people,” Sfyrilato barked. “They deserve better than… him.”

“And you think you’d be that ‘better’?”

“Anyone would be better.”

“But you are proposing yourself in his place.” Callida raised a judgmental eyebrow, and Sfyrilato shifted uncomfortably but challengingly held his head high. Callida’s smirk moved down the line again, a darkness settling on the Thisavros family as everyone realized that she had all the power to name the king of the Griffin Tribe herself, and she likely didn’t care who that was going to be so long as they cooperated with Lion Tribe demands. “And you, prince Skiasmenos, do you have anything to contribute to this discussion on succession?”

“I-I don’t want any part of this,” Skiasmenos stated nervously.

“Indeed? I’m offering you a shot at the throne, your birthright, for some minor concessions, and you want no part of it?” Callida’s tone darkened, testing his resolve. “If not the crown, what do you want?”

“I’m the third son,” Skiasmenos stated quietly, but with a subtle confidence that intrigued Callida. “The throne was never my birthright, General. I was born to privilege, but not that privilege. I only want to serve my people in the capacities befitting my station.”

“So you wish to toil in the shadows of obscurity? A supporting role only?”

“Whomever wears the crown, he will need trustworthy councilors and officials to help him run the tribe. My ambition only extends that far.”

“And it’s never occurred to you that you could be so much more? All you have are a couple of obstacles to eliminate. Perhaps one will eliminate the other for you! You are young. You only have to wait.”

“What are you trying to do, General?” Skiasmenos hissed with renewed anxiety. “I thought you were here to end a war, not start one. Or is that a secondary objective? Get us to turn on each other, start a civil war within the Griffin Tribe to weaken us further? Ensure that it will be another decade or two before we can turn on our Lion Tribe neighbors again? I don’t want the throne! I want no part of this, and pitting my brothers against each other even more than they already are can only end in bloodshed. That’s not what I want, and I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

“And what makes you think that I’m not bloodthirsty after countless battles fighting your own griffin blood lust?”

“You came in here demanding peace, demanding an end to the violence. You’ve left us all alive when you really only need one of us, ordering my father to abdicate but not sentencing him to death. And you want to investigate war crimes before any executions are conducted, but if you were bloodthirsty, why bother with any of that?”

Callida nodded understanding, a genuine smile twisting an otherwise controlled smirk. “You want no part of this, your highness. I’ll grant you that.” Stepping back, she addressed the rest of the Thisavros men. “Three men, one crown. I’ll give you until tomorrow to convince me why the crown should be yours. Rapax, take the youngest prince and the queen somewhere else for safe keeping while the rest of us sort this out.”

“Yes, General.”

Callida waited for the aforementioned individuals to be escorted out and the door to shut behind them before removing a single dagger from her weapons belt to set on the throne. “Good luck gentlemen,” she smirked crookedly and walked out.