Divide; Conquer
Sesus Ulyssian was a thorn in her side.
In between stances, Anys Syn contemplated the problem of the young Solar. As the eldest available member of the Bronze Faction, she was the lynchpin in Creation's defensive array, the sole and final bulwark against its innumerable enemies. No one human, even if Exalted, should bear that level of responsibility, but it was necessary. Organizations demanded clear and decisive leadership, especially in times of exigency. The Incarnae were unwilling, or perhaps unable, to take responsibility. Chejob was gone, for who knows how long. That left her. The only remaining player with a full set of pieces. Once, she had been one orphan of millions, scrabbling for survival in the shadows of a city ruled by a Solar tyrant. Once, she had been a bloody-knuckled girl, desperate with hunger, invested with more fighting spirit than sense.
That part, perhaps, hadn't changed totally. But what had, was that the Fate of Creation now rested squarely on her shoulders. She hadn't been ready, not like Chejob was. But she was what they had.
Around her, scribes took dictation on a variety of topics: her voice communicated one line of thought, while her movements could be parsed through two different interpretive martial languages, allowing her to practice some limited katas without losing overmuch productivity. She trained in a high-vaulted room, on floorboards of polished wood; set high in the mountains, its open face let in the shivering blues and reds of the twilight sun. In one corner was a ceremonial stand that housed a beautiful lamellar of red jade, and where the sun touched it, it almost seemed to dully glow. The desks of her assistants were arranged in trigrams around her. Otherwise the room was unadorned.
The Navy. Zao had begun to use his pet Solar in earnest. She almost wondered why it'd taken him so long, but did not explore that line of thought. There was no time for speculation, not when the fate of the world was aflame. Four months since Sesus Ulyssian had Exalted, and one month since he'd begun to move.
Naval casualties were down thirty percent. The last Niobraran incursion had not only been repelled, but obliterated. The pirate fleets of the Scarlet Flag were hemorrhaging support after a titanic and unforeseen hurricane had devastated the navies of the West - all save those of the Realm, who had somehow been forewarned. The supply chain had become more efficient. Procurement costs were down twenty percent. Faxai had never seen such an uninterrupted stream of men and materials. And Zao's grip over the Admiralty had become absolutely unshakable. Her own plants were largely marginalized or pushed into irrelevant commands.
She recognized them well, the signs of a Solar strategist. That simple, effortless excellence which permeated everything he touched. Perfection without needing to try - that was their hallmark.
She knew what Zao intended. He thought to save them from destruction by harnessing a power that was beyond him. Given his parentage, she ought to be surprised... well, it was probably his own form of rebellion. He was still a child. He did not understand that there were worse fates than destruction.
Worse by far.
Sesus Ulyssian. As a mortal, he'd been so pivotal her plans. The pace-maker of the Chosen One, Resolute Flame. The rival Flame had so desperately needed to awaken his own epic potential. As a Solar... given his psychotic determination, it had always been a risk. But Creation was a land of billions, and there were mortals of excellence all along its length. She had weighed the odds and considered them vanishingly unlikely. Perhaps there was something she had missed, in memories that were Wracked. Perhaps access to the highest reaches of her power could piece together the puzzle. But far more likely, she had simply been unfortunate.
As a Solar, Sesus Ulyssian was their worst nightmare. Ingratiated into the heart of the Realm. Protected by the most powerful Dragon-Blood alive today. And growing, growing at the unrelenting pace that he had exhibited as a mortal, now without mortal limits. Worse, from what her spies had told her, the companion she'd chosen for Flame had fallen in love with Ulyssian.
Empty Moon. Zao's only daughter, the keeper of the irretrievable Shogun bloodline. Their longevity and power, combined with Flame's unique ability to burn his lifespan in order to speed his growth, would have yielded a brood of Dragon-Blooded capable of saving Creation. Now that distant hope was looking increasingly improbable.
She needed to extract Flame, and reassess. Zao had already turned Ivory, her third-deadliest asset and primary soldier at the Academy. She could not lose Flame as well.
As Anys assumed the posture of the Unrepentant Maiden, certainty struck her. It was time to act. These past years she'd husbanded her power, keeping it in reserve for the time Flame matured. Well, he was grown now, and Creation's fate looked more dire than ever. If the moment was not ideal, still that would not prevent her from seizing it.
No one ruled the Realm, but she had come close. She would call in every favor, every outstanding debt. Like a spider pulling in her web, she would consolidate her assets, and purge the cancer that had grown in her Realm.
Firstly, separate Zao and his Solar. The boy had graduated days ago, with extraordinary marks on the Naval Exam. His recent murder of Polemgaos, however, had created an opening for her. While they planned a plum Naval or Satrapal posting for the boy, she would ensure he received a position far more precarious, near-certain to end in death even for one of his talents. Someplace where the Realm's enemies were strong, so that in his throes he could solve a problem for her. It spoke to the state of the Realm that there was not a dearth of such postings now, though for this she would allow only the most lethal.
Occupied and far away, she could kill him herself if a good opportunity arose. If she threw the full weight of her influence against him, not even Lung Feng Zao could meaningfully oppose her. If he resisted, the mess that followed would be grisly, and would weaken the Realm, but in the end she would remain standing, and he would not. She knew him well. He would not take the risk, not if she returned as Hesiesh, not if she abandoned subtlety. What would Chejob say, if he knew of her plans? He would tell her they were too reckless by far. But recklessness was a part of battle; her teacher had never understood that.
When struck, strike back twice as hard. When faced with multiple enemies, turn their blows against each other. Divide. Conquer. The execution could become more sophisticated, but the principles of combat always remained the same. Lung Feng Zao. If it's a battle you want... you should have known better than to face a Chosen of Battles.
---
"Boy." Zao had summoned him to his office, bypassing the usual methods, communicating directly through the air. He had been recovering from the latest sparring session with Moon - a habit he was glad to have restored, though he hadn't looked forward to the prospect of facing Zao when wearied to the bone.
Moon, of course, had understood, raising her head from the crux of his shoulder and gently tying bandages over the slight cuts she'd given him. Though worried - she had volunteered to stand up to Zao and tell him that Ulyssian was exhausted - her acceptance of his decision to go had been unhesitating. Moon never failed to support him; he only hoped to reciprocate as best he could.
Ulyssian knocked on the door, which opened via violent wind. Stepping inside, he saw Zao wearily contemplating the stack of papers on his desk.
"Your prospects aren't good, boy," Zao said immediately. "We expected some resistance from the Bronze Faction, but nothing like this. The Houses have completely closed ranks - even Sesus and Nellens. Everyone's toeing the Immaculate line. She's done something, Anys Syn."
"Anys... Syn?" Odyssial tried to remember if he'd heard that name before. Not during the Primordial War, at least.
"Their current leader," Zao continued, "she created the Immaculate Dragon Styles. When we invented the philosophy, she took on the identities of Hesiesh and Mela."
Ulyssian blinked, taking a moment to process that.
"I believe she has returned, as an Immaculate Dragon incarnate - known only in secret, to the most powerful. Heads of Houses, Immaculate Elders. Their truthsaying Charms would only assist her; she is Hesiesh, as truly as anyone can be. She has completely discarded the mandate of her Exaltation and seeks now to rule, not from the shadows, but openly - as openly as a Sidereal can." Zao was frowning mightily.
"It's my mistake," Zao said. "I should have seen this move. I thought she would never take such an incalculable risk, a risk that could dissolve not just the Order, but the entire Immaculate Philosophy, if so much as one recipient stepped out of line. I should have known, the moment I saw how far she was willing to go to influence Resolute Flame. Who, by the way, hasn't come back from his last field expedition: spirited away, no doubt, to cut off that point of leverage. We were completely blindsided, completely unable to counter, because all of my resources were being diverted to implement your - effective - suggestions. Now that we have let this go by unopposed, she is all but a dictator, as long as she couches her decrees in religious subtext. With Polemgaos dead, it's not just Cathak that will seek authoritative leadership. And there is no authority higher than an Immaculate Dragon, especially one that appears every bit as competent and overwhelmingly powerful as the stories say. Even those who know the truth of the Philosophy will not dare oppose her."
"Can she be killed?" Asked Odyssial.
"Hah!" Zao laughed, a bark. "Your instincts are good. But probably not. She has guards upon guards, Immaculate Masters, when her location is known, and half the time it isn't. Even if you and I and Ivory attacked in concert, we would have worse than even odds. If I struck alone, I would die for certain, though she would be made less. It's not good enough. Poison or disease - forget about them. Yozi venom would curdle before it got around to harming that old bitch."
"Hesiesh..." Ulyssian murmured. "Half the Houses won't even question her. So she's united the Realm, in effect?"
"Temporarily," Zao answered, "which means the postings available to you are all suicide missions. I can't even get you into the Navy anymore, not without suffering enormous blowback. Let's see." He picked up the order scroll on his desk. "In light of Ulyssian's exceptional strategic acumen and clear genius, it has become clear to us that he is especially blessed by the Dragons. Protected by Their Grace, it is clear that he should go forth to where his talents are most needed. The Mouth of Peace has taken a personal interest in him, and issued a number of recommendations on where he might be utilized. We are inclined to agree. Signed, Tepet Fokuf, Lord Regent of the Realm. Counter-Signed by General Agreement of the Grand Deliberative. Endorsed by the personal seals of all House Heads and the Mouth."
Grimly, Ulyssian took up the scroll. You couldn't get all twelve House Heads to agree on the number of courses at a banquet, much less a military commission. If Zao defied this... the Shogun would be all but declaring rebellion.
---
[ ] Fade Away - Anys' attack is directed at the identity of Sesus Ulyssian. In the face of such a blow, evasion is the appropriate tactic. Die or disappear, it doesn't matter, but Anys' successful gambit has effectively severed Zao, and thus Ulyssian, from influence in the Realm. Her stranglehold may soon extend to the Navy itself. If it'd been war, and chaos, even the true Hesiesh could have been repudiated as false, by soldiers standing on the field against him. Perhaps Ambition saw what Zao missed. In any case it is too late now. Zao can still hold the Academy as long as he appears to fall in line, and Ulyssian can still act as a solo operative, or enact plans outside the Realm's reach. All is not lost. If Anys can be exposed, then the truth of the Immaculate Philosophy might, with Ulyssian's strategic prowess, have a chance of credibly getting out. This is perhaps the safest of the options
OR
If Ulyssian decides to obey the summons, he will be granted a Satrapal posting, a great honor for one so young. Surrounded by minders loyal to Syn, it will be far more difficult to fade away. Even success could simply mean re-assignment to the next suicide mission. Adverse conditions for sure, but he survived as a mortal in the Naval Academy. As a Solar Exalt, he can survive worse. However, these are by far the most desperate and terrible postings in an already dangerous Threshold.
[ ] Luseng - The newly-conquered coastal satrapy of Luseng is rich in resources, close to several major island ports, and has a developed urban base. However, it is threatened from the south by the Deathlord, The Gardener of Elysian Fields, and her loyal deathknights, Abyssal Exalts of tremendous power. To the north, it contends with the cunning and treacherous Lunar Ragmar, whose horde has allied with the Bull of the North. To the north-west, it is bordered by the Freehold of Sislay Chorus, an ancient seat of Fae power whose behemoths have recently taken six of the satrapy's outlying cities. It is believed that the three powers circling Luseng have taken up a non-aggression pact to carve up the city-state and its territories; one third shadowland, one third freehold, and one third Lunar domain. If they intend on betraying each other, it is not until the elephant of the Realm has been carved at the joints.
The satrapy has essentially been given up as lost, though Realm forces have been ordered to fight to the death. The previous satrap was killed a week ago in a decisive losing battle, and at least two behemoths are en route to the capital.
[ ] Serentidopolis - The ancient city-state of Serentidopolis holds an L-shaped territory that borders the Inland Sea to the north and the Dreaming Sea to the south. For this reason it has become a cosmopolitan hub of trade and cultural development. Enormously corrupt, the ineffectual nature of Realm governance in the territory is the stuff of legend. Much of its territory is barren desert, so it relies heavily on imports to feed its discontent citizenry. Recently, the city has suffered the disfavor of Heaven, for unknown reasons, causing already stymied mechanisms of governance to grind to a screeching halt. Nomad swarms and rival city-states eye its opulence greedily; the shape of its territory is hardly defensible. Backers of prodigious strength want the city erased, but their ultimate motivations are unknown. The last seven satraps and their immediate families all died of assassination: gruesome, terrible deaths.
OR
[ ] Write-In - Take an alternate course of action.
