Final Confessions of a Goblin Emperor 5

Chapter 4
Yathrina made good on her word, three days passed, and at their end I made an excursion with her. Letharius and Sardas accompanied as well. Oh wonder of wonders, we had to travel by train again, but I coped with it if it meant I could have my instruments.
I pity the people of this world who have never seen Darepzeer in the blossom times. The city is built in five rings, each one subsequently higher and smaller than the ones before. Each level is a different shade of purple in the late spring, dyed by the different lilac plants that occupy each higher plane. The bottom echelon of the metropolitan, which houses the commoners of the city was ever so pleasantly lavender, whereas the Imperial Ring that sits at the top is almost violently mauve. Oh what a wonder that place was. It did not have the impoverished, dirty feeling of Prophet’s Strait, but a smooth, elegant and prosperous timbre. Of all the cities of the world, it is my favorite.
It is a nine hour train ride from the Kiemandra School to Darepzeer, but it was so worth the doing. We planned to stay at a small inn on the second ring over Trizinar (human’s Sixth-Night) and to return home on Elenar(Seventh-Night).
It was when I disembarked from our carriage car that I realized that something was critically wrong. There was a feeling of fanaticism to everything there, a feeling of violence and immediate action. The people, the young and the old, had a sort of fire in their eye, as I looked around it was easy to see from what. Everywhere, and I mean everywhere were posters displaying beautiful Elven men and women, standing over the bodies of Dwarves, Trolls and Orcs. There were also images of King Cinla the Eleventh displayed in a heroic stance, cape flying in the breeze, sword drawn, sparkling with ruby blood. These images and a hundred thousand others assailed the walls, and by placement the minds, of every passerby of every man and woman who walked through the street. I was oblivious to the reason for such inflammatory images, so I turned to Yathrina for answers.
“Enath, truly? You have no idea?” she asked skeptically.
I shook my head vehemently at her question.
“Let me show you in the dirt. Look closely now, I don’t want to be overheard.”
She traced out three large blobs in the whitish dust of the service road we stood on. The right one was significantly larger than the left. The central one, the third, wasn’t solid but a collection of lines and dots.
“This right shape represents the continent we’re on right now, Imprizeedunt, or the Land of Empires. It’s broken into five major regions, the Human Empire, here,” she gestured to the far left of the largest shape,”the elves here just to the east, the goblin wastes on the far side beneath which is located the Orc Empire under the rule of Caliph Hikmir. This region furthest south and west is the dwarven lands, though they technically don’t live on the land.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“They live under the soil in great caverns and mines that they’ve dug out.”
“Then who lives on the surface?”
“Black men, barbarians. Though in the deeper deserts there are still sphinxes. But moving on, the central region, as you should well know, is the land of the gnomes, known as Rehyobar. And the far portion to the left is the colonies. Now, what can you tell me about the peoples of these different places?”
“The Dwarves, and the Trolls who live on the southern ice-caps, are ferocious fighters and worship pagan gods. The Humans and Elves are the greatest of friends, fair races who worship the Celestial Lord and his five sons. The Orcs are a refined, decadent people who worship the Celestial lord di-theistically with the Queen of the Night, his first wife, who betrayed him. The gnomes are a greedy, bitter, seafaring folk, with a terrible love of money. They bow before the altar of Metal, the Celestine’s first son. The goblins are a wretched barbarian race who worships only the Queen of the Night.”
“What of the lesser races?”
“Of course there are the sphinxes, giants, minotaurs, satyrs, gorgons and cyclopses. But they manage only small countries compared to the other races.”
“So do you understand now Enath, it’s really quite simple. With all these different races and ideas in the world they are bound to conflict. Right now the world falls into three groups, Humanoid, Trollish and Neutral. The Satyrs, Humans, Elves and Gnomes have joined together in an alliance which excludes the other races of trade rights with the member nations. A war is brewing, word has it that Queen Theyton, the Iron Queen of the Gnomes, is preparing a fleet to move against the Dwarven shores, though mind you that is rumor alone.”
“But why?”
“You’re so preciously naïve Enath,” she chirped waving her hands, “I shall answer with a question to make you understand better, is more ever enough?”
With that she swiveled on her heel in that way that made her look like a sow, and made her way into the city.

I had a lot more money than what I thought I did, as it turned out. Yathrina knew exactly how to spend it though. I was so easily taken by the small objects in windows and bookshelves, but she was more interested in what was behind them, or what was next to them at a better price. She helped me select a fine crystal ball and some better clothes, I looked a little too much like a colonial in those days, she got me a dozen tail coats in red, blue, brown and green, all appropriate for men of my status, and a trunk full of pantaloons and cheap ruffled shirts. She also pointed me to the nearest sorcerer’s guild, where I received a fine ceremonial robe, and the greatest joy of all, a finely polished yew staff.
If I may divert once again from my narrative to draw the reader’s attention to an important point. A staff is not responsible for an artist’s power, it is his own volition that gives it animation, the staff is merely an object to focus one’s mystic energy through before releasing it. Some materials make a better channel than others, such as gold, silver and many exotic hardwoods. Though a truly great artist, like myself, has no need of such a channel if one isn’t available.
I could only stare at my pile of goods as it was all heaped in front of me, I, Enath Jorus Brashfall, had property to my name. I had a little money left over, which I gave to Letharius to buy new clothing for himself. He was hesitant in taking the money, but he did so anyway, in retrospect I know why, he was ashamed to resort to charity, but I couldn’t see that at the time.

Yathrina reserved us a room at the nearest inn, known as the Traverse Doors. It was a dingy little place, poorly lit, coupled with unpainted walls and the smell of wood and beer. It gave one a pervading feel of dirtiness, and danger. As it turned out it marked danger for the outside world, not us, the place served as an impromptu embassy between the Western Human Colonies and the Elven government. The ‘diplomats’ that attended to the affairs of state were a reeking band of renegade scum, peeled from their dirt hole saloons to represent their ‘country’. To me, they had no country, they abandoned the Empire, then they abandoned the eastern colonies, who knew what they might abandon next. Though they were quick with their knives and muskets, and they were loyal to Arctavius Ret without a fault, and by relation, they were loyal to Yathrina. I was astounded by how much they adored that pudgy little thing that walked directly through the room. They stood up and removed their hats and then went back to their dice and whiskey. They were all the same, scruffy beard, long overcoat, six teeth… save the man sitting in the far left corner. He was built like a house, he had a long black beard and hair, and yellow eyes, marking him of gnomish decent, however, he stood at a good six feet three inches, I realized instantly that he couldn’t be a gnome. He ambled over to Yathrina the moment she was in range of him, he was wearing a ragged looking uniform of green and grey piping, the human uniform for soldiers of mixed descent, and sounded, in a gruff, but amiable enough voice.
“Lady, the Kiemandras have demanded for your presence at the Imperial Gardens at high evening, it seemed important from what the messenger made it out to be. I will take you myself, and your friends… I haven’t me them yet, hello, I’m General Sa’athna Drak, commander of the western forces.”
“Enath Brashfall,” I said taking his hand kindly, “though I would think it hard to command the western army so far away from the west.”
“He’s got some bite in him! Well met, what about you blondie?” He asked grabbing Letharius’s hand roughly.
“Letharius Zybaylis!” I could tell Letharius was overwhelmed by the warrior’s loquacity.
“Well if introductions are out of the way, wait, who’s that?” he was pointing at Sardas who had sat down and was already asleep.
“He’s Lord-Deacon Sardas Kolkas, don’t worry about him, he won’t be joining us, I don’t want to seem cold but he’s a bit of a drag, could you get him some food Sa’athna,” Said Yathrina as she walked towards the stairs.
“Yes Ladyship,” he said with a bow as she made her way up the stairs. “So what are you boys up to?”
“Just out and about,” I responded trying to be conversational.
An awkward pause beset us, the warrior had nothing to say.
“Your room’s down the hall,” he said gesturing after about ten seconds, I’ll have the boys bring in your fineries. Good day lords.” He bowed and shuffled off quickly.

Letharius and I had a comfortable little room at the far end of the hall. It was rather outdoorsish, but who am I to complain. We immediately set to work of changing. I slipped into my new robe, a handsome thing made of blue and yellow silk, it bunched up at the sleeves and swept fully to the floor, a little bold for the time, raised sleeves didn’t really enter into fashion for another two or three years. Letharius went traditional and wore black velvet, going down to the ankle, with full belled sleeves. While he was changing I couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his tight ivory belly, I was surprised to find myself blushing.
We finished changing and helped each other with our make-up. Many of you aren’t old enough to remember the days when court make-up was popular, but in those days it was a do or die. Face powder was white and thick as snow, and eye shadow, liner and lipstick were also necessary. I felt so oddly tickled when Letharius painted my lips red and I ringed his eye in black. I hardly knew what had come over me as of late.
We came to the main dining hall a few minutes later, looking like any respectable nobleman of courtly raising. Yathrina must have been waiting for us at the top of the stairs, because the moment the two of us swept in the room she came gliding down the stairs in an affected, tacky manner, her dress of cream making her look oddly bleached and dead, like a bloated piglet left in its pen. She smiled, her crudely applied powder cracking as her face ridged.
“Ready?” she cackled tastelessly.
If I had only known how ready I wasn’t.

I remember stepping out of the carriage into the Imperial Gardens and nearly swooning. The ground was paved in elegant black granite shined and waxed daily. The entire garden was abloom with all manner of flora and fauna, including a few plants that I knew weren’t native, because they only grew in the colonies.
All manner of creatures cavorted and made merry on that grand boulevard. It was the first time I had ever seen a minotaur that night, or a troll, or a dwarf for that matter. They all seemed so very strange to me, though looking back, yet again, I realize that they were just people, just in a little different shape. They all were helping themselves to a grand buffet situated in the southeastern portion of the garden complex. That was a night of firsts, it was the first time I had ever eaten lobster, or drank wine or had a white chocolate. I loved all of it, the diversity, the mystery, the experience; I drank it all like mother’s milk. I talked with a handful of people Yathrina introduced me to, Ichtamandor Shattersword, Feiy’s sponsor and future husband, he was a handsome man, but I really didn’t like him, he was stuck on himself and his future as General of the Fifth Army. I also met Draeda Kathra, wife to Prince Tharxstra of the Karkinian family. He wasn’t present that night, husbands usually weren’t, but she was charming and sweet. I regret what happened to that poor Orc so much, it still makes me cry, she was a woman who worked hard, loved all, fought on, and still lost.
It was actually during while I was talking to Draeda that King Cinla himself entered our midst. I almost fainted again. I had never been in the presence of such a powerful man before in my life. Draeda laughed when she saw the look on my face, I looked up to see King Cinla had seen as well and was making his way towards me.
“Traza Naz,” I remember him saying very clearly, “why are you so shaky, I am your friend, and this is a party, enjoy yourself.” He patted me on the back and went back to the revelry.

We danced and cajoled for another hour or so and then a bell called us to a slow dance. I didn’t realize it at the time, at least not immediately, but homosexuality was actually very permissible in the court, only the peasants couldn’t indulge in such indecent deformity.
I was approached by a certain Baron Nestro Valleysraid who asked for my hand, he must have seen the way I had bowed out of several offers to dance with young ladies, or maybe it’s that abiding, under riding ability for one of us to spot another, men of our inclination seem to know one another in a crowd. I was wooed almost immediately, he was a third cousin to the Emperor of my Human Empire, and beside all that he was handsome, rather like a crow. He was dark haired, with ocean blue eyes that were always laughing. We shared three dances and proceeded to sneak off and exchange embraces in a deeper part of the Gardens. Many will wonder what pertinence this will serve to this narration, I found out the next day that he was only four years older than me, and also a full grade Baron, both of his parents having died under dubious circumstances. I soon became his favorite boyfriend and I was rewarded lavishly out of his affection, I kept on with those cage fights that Yathrina got me into because I wanted the experience, and my own, earned money, but I never went wanting for capital again. Nestro came the next day to see me off back to my school. I don’t know what I evoked in him, but it was apparently something strong. He gave me a little sideways kiss on the corner of my mouth that could have been taken as a sign of friendship, he was very careful in public so as not to cause me embarrassment. I danced on air when I thought about him, that’s how your first real relationship works; it seems so amazing until you realize that everyone else is doing it to. For the first time since I had come East I didn’t feel like the son of dirt farmers, I felt like a Duke or Earl. I felt as noble as I had always thought I was. I felt myself smiling like an idiot all the ride home, I had a powerful new ally and lover, a new standing in society and the tools for a more powerful future, no one could stop me.
I found out the next morning, during my first class period that kindly King Cinla Caracavar Kiemandra, who had invited peasant me to his grand ball in his gardens, had been murdered in his sleep by two Dwarven assassins.
Two hours later the world was at war.