-1-1Prologue

The Price of Independence

Heat waves shimmered and swirled like the wind off millions upon billions of baking sand grains. The sky above the shifting dunes was a brilliant, warm blue, and the sun was a blinding, perfect blot of white hot death currently three quarters of the way across his heavenly journey in the cloudless sky. This, however, did not discourage the massive ranks of men in brightly reflecting burnished and emblazoned armor over red, knee length tunics standing stiffly and sweating profusely on the scorching sands. Each held a spear in one hand and a body sized shield in the other. The large red plumes on their helmets stood motionless in the air unless the owner shook his head; for there wasn't a gust anywhere to be found to disturb them.

In front of this formidable army, astride a bay stallion, was a hawk faced man dressed in the same garb as his men. He was ahead of them by some distance, alone, waiting and watching calmly as a progression of people made their way up a paved highway leading from a gigantic limestone, granite, and marble city perched on the eastern bank of a river which the likes none of the military had ever seen in all of the world.

The group was led by a dark skinned man in a two horse chariot with a large white flag flowing behind it; the universal symbol of peace. As he came closer, the general could make out the man's attire more clearly. He wore a large gold headdress that covered all of his forehead and fanned out to form a none pointed triangle ending at the shoulder. It was inlaid with lapis lazuli, and standing out from the center of the forehead was a small orb with detailed rays of all lengths rushing from it. His face appeared shaved, but upon closer inspection it showed no signs of any possible facial hair. His upper torso was bare and smooth, save for a large, multi layered necklace of lapis lazuli, red jasper, and gold beads that reached all the way down to the middle of his developed chest. He wore a pleaded skirt that ended at mid thigh in smart white, belted with a think, brown leather belt and thin soled brown sandals.

He halted his entourage a few yards from the general, and stepped down from his highly decorated chariot covered in odd hieroglyphic symbols. Even the horses were costumed accordingly to match this elegant and suave man! He crossed the hot sands smoothly to stand before the general. The older white man dismounted and walked the few feet to meet the man on level ground. The man with the headdress stuck out his arm, and the general wrapped his hand around the other's wrist as the dark one did the same and each gripped firmly, then let their arms fall to their sides.

"Welcome to Kalmus, foreigner," the man greeted in fluent Rowan, identifying the name of the city with no trace of strange accent. His voice was light and had a lilting quality to it. "I am Amcron Kisorag, Emperor of all Aphveira."

The older man removed his helmet and bowed deeply to the monarch. "I am General Tele Micro in the Rowa Republic Military," he introduced, his own voice gruff from years of command. "I have come to take your empire and make it a part of Rowa."

"I am no fool," Amcron stated simply, seeming like he had not heard the military leader. "I know that your Republic is much bigger and stronger than my desert empire. I also know that there is no way I could ever hope to keep our independence from Rowa if it came to war. I have come here under the white flag to offer a solution for both our nations to avoid conflict and continue to exist seperately and in peace."

Tele stared into the blue-kohl outlined eyes of the ruler, mentally noting how it fanned out from the far corner into a spiral on the temple. "And what would that be?" he asked, propping his helmet into the nook his arm formed from resting on his solid, tunic cloaked hip.

"I am willing to give the highest ranking member of your Senate a gift beyond value if they will turn their eyes from the Aphveiran Empire," he informed, painted chocolate brown lips revealing straight, white teeth as he spoke.

"I do not have the authority to make such a decision," Tele said bluntly. "It is as well anyway; I don't know if they would accept such a bribe."

"Surely you must have ways to dispatch progress messages to the Senate to let them know of your status when you're in the field?" Amcron countered, blinking once and revealing eyelids smeared with blue paint.

What a peculiar race, the general thought to himself. Even the men wear makeup here. How queer! "Yes, this is true," he admitted grudgingly.

"Then can you not send a message to them informing them of my proposal?" he asked, still standing regally despite the oven like heat. "I can have a convoy convey your messenger up the glorious Veri," he suggested, referring to the great river that ran straight down the middle of his empire and provided life for all in the parched land.

"And what do you have to offer to make the Senate change their mind?" Tele inquired, expressing only the slightest interest, but truly quite curious.

"I believe Senator Kirmiss's only child is fond of goddess like beauties," the emperor remarked causally. "I also have a young daughter who is fond of handsome, godly men."

Tele didn't even raise a brow. "Yes, the senator's son is that way," he replied honestly. "But I do not think that the Senate would be dissuaded by you offering your child as gift to leave Aphveira be."

"There is more," Amcron said simply. "My daughter is a nivea, one who possess innate magic; no spell, potion, or incantation needed."

The general had heard the term before, very witches were of that rare category. This was a lucky find indeed. "Now, if you have a nivea, then I'm sure the Senate will be more than happily to possibly change it's mind," he admitted, quite impressed himself.

"So, will you send a message to Rowa informing the Senate of my proposal?" the emperor questioned, his tone with a demanding note to it.

"Yes, but first I would like to look upon the face of this nivea," he agreed, making it clear he would have his way.

Amcron motioned towards the back of his followers and a young man in long sleeved, flowing white robes and a shaved head came forward, carrying a dull black concave dish filled with water. The general took him to be a priest of some sort.

He set the bowl upon the soft sand and knelled before it. He spread his hands over the water and closed his eyes. After a moment he chanted in a unrecognizable tongue and with a little burst of white light, removed his hands from the water and sat back on his haunches.

Tele bent down to gaze into the depths and saw a reflection not of the sky on the surface of the water, but a smooth, wrinkle free and tanned young woman's face. She had sleekly straight crimson red hair falling to the small of her fine back, very thin and arched brows rose gracefully over jungle foliage green eyes, and her face was clear of makeup, unlike the monarch's. In fact, she was devoid of attire completely. Her features and bone structure were elegant and revealed noble blood, and were proportioned to make her the most beautiful mortal the Rowan had ever had the fancy to look upon.

"This is your daughter?" he demanded, looking up from the water into the emperor's face. "The nivea?"

"Yes, my youngest child, Zaran Kisorag, the nivea," he answered, no change of expression upon his dark face.

"If Senator Kirmiss is going to have his son wed this nivea princess, he will want to know of her looks," Tele told him, deadly serious.

Amcron motioned again and another man came forward, carrying a piece of parchment which he handed to the general.

The Rowan looked down once the sketch was in his hand and saw the same person in the water on the paper. He then motioned to call a man forward. "I can't say this officially, but I believe your empire will remain sovereign," he said and smiled warmly.

Amcron returned the smile, grateful that he had saved his kingdom and his people from probable enslavement and titanic death. His thoughts were not on how his wife would take his decision, nor where they any closer to the theatrical style his hot headed daughter would put the news to.