A/N: On a roll with this one.
Concerto of Two World-Changers, Part V
Unleashing the Tide, Part III
Tolcariath's men returned victorious from Silver Pinnacle, blessed by Ulric and claiming the life of Neferata as she burned to ash, never to return. With help from the Dwarves of Clan Drakebeard, Karak Kadrin reclaimed the ancient Dwarven stronghold and was now in the process of rebuilding with help from Karaz-a-Karak.
And so Tolcariath and Gunthilde – who accompanied her husband by his beckoning – returned to great accolades and cheers from the people.
"Hoorah for Their Majesties!"
"That's one less Vampire to threaten the world!"
"Hurrah to our Empire!"
As they returned to the Graf's Palace, Tolcariath and Gunthilde kissed lovingly.
"I think I've had enough of fighting vampires for one time," Said Gunthilde, "Wish I could spend all the time in the world with you and our family."
Tolcariath merely chuckled, saying, "You do realise we've precious few free hours outside work, don't you?"
Gunthilde merely pouted.
Siegfried III and Günsche were there to greet them, the latter especially jubilant at his granddaughter's safe return, along with six small little bundles of joy.
"Ma! Pa!"
Father and Mother knelt down to embrace their children, Günsche simply laughing heartedly at how rambunctious and energetic his great-grandchildren were.
"I think they really missed you the most out of all of us," Said Günsche.
"You're telling me; I was hounded by them for days on end!" Said Siegfried III, "Honestly, I can never understand how children can be so energetic."
Their half-Elven children entertained and cared for, they were soon put to sleep at night as Tolcariath and Gunthilde looked up at the stars on a balcony, dressed in their night gowns.
"You know, I once hated star-gazing," Said Gunthilde, "Hated looking at that cursed moon Morslieb."
"Because of what it represented?" Asked Tolcariath.
"And because of what it does when its light's shining on the land," Said Gunthilde, "I've heard of how innocents were changed into Beastmen, turned to hunting their once-kinsfolk like sport. I mean, it's a damn lump of Chaos energy."
"I don't believe it'll last forever," Said Tolcariath, "I think there will come a day it goes away, and we don't have to live in fear of it anymore."
"I believe you when you say that," Said Gunthilde.
And she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"So… now that the Lahmians are gone, what's next?" She asked.
"Reconquering the Sigmarites' territory, and then Sylvania," Said Tolcariath, "And possible negotiating further donations from Marienburg."
"Those merchants never see themselves as part of the Empire," Said Gunthilde sourly, "They'd sooner look after their own interests at the expense of others."
"The same has happened to them as well, my love," Said Tolcariath, "Since the Empire's founding, the lands surrounding Marienburg have always been barren and infertile, only supporting the barest minimum wildlife, and the countryfolk are a very untrusting lot compared to the cityfolk in the Westerland. If we actually help them rather than spurn them, they'll become more loyal in the future."
"Is it really that simple?" Asked Gunthilde, "I mean, I appreciate what you did for our citizens, but…"
"Sometimes, it's just that simple," Said Tolcariath, "Granting food and security go a long way to securing loyalty, and the Directorate cannot ignore this; they will surely want to get in my good graces in the future."
"And you'll make sure they feel willing to accept your rule," Said Gunthilde with realisation.
"It's impossible to change perceptions overnight, so it's always best to start small and lay the foundations," Said Tolcariath.
Gunthilde smiled, hugging him.
"I love you, husband," Said Gunthilde, "You're always so reliable."
With Neferata dead and the Lahmian Sisterhood permanently scattered, the Ulrican Empire could now focus on their last obstacles to reunification. By Tolcariath's order, Valvenna and the Waystalkers of Middenland assassinated key leaders of the Von Carsteins and the Greenskins, prolonging the war by several years.
With the new Arcane University-College of Nordland, all spellcasters (formerly persecuted folk) were taken to be trained into the new generation of Imperial Wizards, their talents already put to use in various projects throughout the Empire, including the fertilization of Westerland's farms.
Unused to such kind acts by the Imperial monarchy, the Marienburgers enthusiastically give yearly payments to supplement the Imperial Treasury, granting Tolcariath an increased budget.
And with this, he initiated construction of a new Bastion on Ostermark's north-eastern border, to better reinforce its border security. A series of military outposts were erected surrounding the ruined city of Mordheim, to box the Skaven in and de facto besieging the place, giving the men much-needed target practice.
And three years passed in the blink of an eye.
It was now the year 2061 IC, and the truce with Albrecht had expired.
"Trarcan, gather our armies," Said Tolcariath, "Gather three Legions to attack the Sigmarites, and the 8
th Legion to attack Mordheim."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Said Trarcan.
Nothing would stop the reunification of the Empire.
IIOII
A Bretonnian guard loudly yawned while leaning on his spear for support, bored to death in his little slice of heaven atop a stalagmite of stone.
"There's really been nothin' dangerous comin' from Mousilion for years now," Said the guard, "Damn, I wish I had some action."
"Don't be askin' for what y'can't handle, Girard," Said his buddy, "Once had to fight some skeletons and zombies. Nasty business, I'm tellin' ya."
"Sure," Said Girard, sounding unconvinced, "At least your previous job ain't borin', Conrrat."
"I'd take boring over not-boring anyday," Said Conrrat, "Wait a minute… am I seein' things?"
The first thing the Bretonnian guards spotted was a huge mass of black, indiscernible at first from their distance. Then, as the black bulk came closer and closer, they saw with horror black clouds overhanging like an umbrella, and at once an ominously chilling feeling coursed down their spines.
"Oh fuck… Undead, and so many o' em," Said Girard, "A-And what the fuck? Dragons?"
"Shit… there are Dragons," Said Conrrat, "Way too many o'em to take on. W-What do we do now?"
"Ain't it obvious!?" Girard shouted, "Send a warning immediately!"
But it would be too little, too late. When the Duke's armies came to combat the Undead tide, they – a measly tens of thousands against tens of millions – were swallowed whole like an insect swallowed by a frog.
The Tide of Death had come.
IIOII
It would be called the Fortnight War by many, the War of Absolute Loss by the losing Bretonnians, whilst among Dracul's followers it was known as the War of Unification.
Nurgle took the opportunity to attack Lyonesse, the Rot Tide corrupting the land and turning it to a hellish wasteland of disease. Yet, like all other Grail Knights and Bretonnian armies who tried to resist them, they were annihilated at little cost to the Undead Army.
And so, in the short span of half a month, Bretonnia was conquered by Dracul and its control wrested away from the Lady of the Lake.
No one knew where the Fay Enchantress went either, and the Ancients of Athel Loren grew wary of this new threat on their borders.
And so, standing atop a hastily erected podium, Dracul addressed all his subjects.
"Good afternoon, my brothers and sisters, beloved citizens of my nation," He said, "I come to speak to you now about the future of our nation."
Cheers erupted from the audience, slowly dying down as they eagerly listened.
"Bretonnia was a land trapped in time, following archaic customs and committing atrocities in the name of authority, a land that failed to accept that the world around them is constantly changing. And because of that, it has fallen to us, the heralds of the new age. The nobility is dead, Bretonnia is dead, and now we, its citizens, must build a new nation for us and our children!"
"Down with the nobles!"
"Down with Bretonnia!"
Such chants became commonplace among the citizenry, and as Dracul raised his hand the audience was once again silent.
"As such, I declare the founding of the Empire of Wallachia! I am Dracul, the Dragon! I am the first Emperor!"
And at once, Dracul knelt, allowing Kel'Thuzad, his most trusted Necromancer, to place a crown of silver and gold on his head.
"Now come the days of the Emperor," Said Kel'Thuzad, "And may they be blessed."
And as Dracul stood up, all the people were overawed by his regal presence and stately air, and they cheered jubilantly.
"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Empire!"
"Long live the Empire of Wallachia!"
The Kingdom of Bretonnia is dead, and from its ashes arose the Empire of Wallachia, proudly bearing the symbol of the Black Dragon.
IIOII
Just as Bretonnia was unified, so too was the Empire of Man, sans the war-torn province of Sylvania still embroiled in conflict.
Tolcariath and Gunthilde addressed the jubilant people, happy that this foolish five-century era of civil strife was finally at an end.
"My people, I am proud to declare that the Empire is reunified!" Gunthilde shouted.
More shouts and cheers followed.
"Yet we, the Empire of Man, must remember that these are our lands, the heartlands of the Empire that Sigmar conquered to build this nation!" Gunthilde continued, "It is too easy to remember that internal discord is our greatest enemy, aside from Chaos. And now, we stand on the very precipice of change."
Tolcariath then stepped forward, saying, "Our scouts report a great army destroying the nobility of Bretonnia, taking its citizens under its protective wing. It is a great army of Undead and Dragons, easily numbering in the tens of millions."
There was a collective wave of gasps and worried glances.
"Such news is why we cannot afford to cling to archaic traditions, why we must move forward and rebuild from this divisive civil war," Said Tolcariath, "And why we cannot allow our own nobility to destroy our country so for their own interests!"
On another platform nearby were the bound forms of several men and women, Imperial nobles and Halfling Elders.
"These imbeciles are guilty of treason against the Empire, and for trying to instigate rebellion against us for constraining their power and privileges! They even killed several soldiers and innocent merchants for this!" Gunthilde declared, "For their crimes, they deserve nothing less than the death penalty!"
The slew of curses flew forth like rats from the audience's mouths.
"Murderers!"
"Rebels!"
"Traitors!"
"Kill them all!"
"As your monarchs, our first decree is that from now onwards, all nobles shall henceforth have their privileges permanently revoked!" Said Tolcariath, "They shall no longer have private armies, and all who wish to join positions of power must do so by merit! From now onwards, we shall do away with the electoral system and centralise all power in the hands of the central government, and our successors shall only be hereditary! Anyone found guilty of opposing this decree is to be granted the death penalty!"
"And our Empire shall henceforth be known as the Empire of Prussia!"
At their command, the nobles and elders were executed, their heads lopped off by sword.
"Long live Prussia!"
"Long live the Empire!"
IIOII
"Your Majesty, there is a woman who wishes to see you. She claims to be a Glade Lady escaping a fraudulent scheme in Athel Loren."
Reinhild Theil, a noblewoman from Talabheim, was posted to serve under Tolcariath's tutelage in the hopes of furthering the Theil family's prestige and establishing closer relations with the monarchy.
Young, sharp and observant, she was already proving a talented student, capable of handling a hefty share of Tolcariath's work in administration.
"Send her in," Said Tolcariath.
The Glade Lady in question looked no different from other Asrai nobles, dressed in her traditional green garments embodying nature and its wonders and savagery.
But her blue eyes were easily otherworldly in quality, as if she were something more, glowing with an iridescent gleam.
"Forgive me for intruding on your hospitality, Your Majesty," Said the Asrai noblewoman, "I am Lylvel, and I come seeking sanctuary."
A/N: Anyone who can guess correctly the hidden meaning at the end is entitled to an imaginary lollipop.
