TVisTV Book 4: Chapter 25 (RAW) (Patreon)

Chapter 25 - Heavenly Splendor

Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.

- Walter Scott

The loyalty of her escort, every single last one of them, had become iron. They would die for her now, not simply because duty demanded it, but because of what she had become in their eyes. Even the guards of Meilin’s escort treated her with a new and cautious reverence.

So, Seraphina’s party, exhausted and battle-weary despite a recent victory that doubtless deserved a place in song, made their way to the large town of Wanchen, the Town of Evening. It served as a major stopping post west of the capital, perhaps a day’s hard ride by fast horse from capital Tianhua itself.

Tianhua, the Heavenly Splendor.

The town sat upon a broad-backed hill overlooking the western road, its walls climbing the slope in squared tiers of rammed earth, dressed stone, and brick. The lower fortifications were Imperial in the old style: sloped earthen ramparts faced with fired brick, watchtowers with upturned tiled roofs, and gatehouses painted in dark red and black.

The main gate rose not beneath a wooden tower alone, but through a great semicircular stone arch flanked by square pillars. Bronze dragon plaques hung beside weathered eagle standards. Along the walls, tiled roofs curved elegantly over blunt stone battlements.

Inside the walls, the streets were straight and paved in fitted stone. Covered drains ran along either side, carrying meltwater and refuse away with admirable efficiency. Public fountains stood at small intersections, their basins carved with dragons, lions, and a double-headed eagle. At the heart of the town lay a broad civic square ringed by columns and shaded walkways, where merchants sold their wares.

Above the market rose tiled roofs and timber balconies, red lanterns, stone arches, and painted signboards. A quick investigation revealed that there were also bathhouses with heated floors in Wanchen, which Seraphina found rather charming.

They had found their way to the post station, which was less an inn than a walled military and administrative compound. Its outer yard held stables, storehouses, barracks, kitchens, and a courier office where tired horses, and the occasional beleaguered Gryphon with its diminutive rider, could be seen. 

After a bit of fuss they were soon given a place to stay at the post station’s guest buildings. Their new accommodations stood farther within the compound, arranged around a stone courtyard with bare winter trees, red pillars, and covered walkways.

Seraphina’s thoughts turned to the man in charge of Wanchen.

The local governor himself, Li Marius Longwei of Wanchen, had welcomed them with a nervous look. He apparently boasted descent from the First Legion, through her knowledge of this game world she knew that the scenario writers had plucked the Ninth Legion from Earth and dropped it into this rather hodge-podge setting in ages past. That being said, if his lineage was true, then Governor Li Marius Longwei was excellent evidence that people could fall very far from once-heroic blood that had spawned them.

The governor was a fat man with a thin beard, thinning grey hair, and the damp complexion of someone who sweated more from anxiety than exertion. When he had met them, his robes had been expensive, the heavy gold rings on his fingers serving as testament to his affluence.

Seraphina’s lips curled up into a cruel smile at the memory.

His life would, quite literally, be on the line for allowing the debacle of the “bandit” attack to occur so close to his domain. As governor, he was responsible for the general safety of the region, which meant the Imperial Court would demand an explanation soon enough for the latest travesty, should Seraphina choose to press the issue.

The young girl looked out of her window, and from her vantage point, she could see the new capital city of the Empire in the distance: Tianhua, the Heavenly Splendor. New, of course, was a relative word. The old capital lay much farther east along the salt roads, beyond the lands from which the sun was said to rise, and Tianhua itself had stood for two hundred years or so.

Seraphina now had to weigh whether the satisfaction of having him killed was worth the utility of having him in her debt. Her heart wanted the satisfaction of seeing someone beaten alive. Her head, unfortunately, pointed out that he would be a useful card this close to Tianhua.

Crystal whispered something soothing, and Seraphina chose utility. After all, she reasoned as she settled into her serviceable accommodations, she could always deal with him another day. Allowing him to save great face by blaming the attack on the misfortune of Lamentation of Heaven’s existence would put the governor firmly in her pocket.

Messengers would, of course, be sent out on fast horses, or even by Gryphon, to inform the Court of the Jade Dragon that she would soon arrive. No doubt others had already carried word ahead of her: of the Unicorn, of the battle among the Pillars, of the Song of Heroes, and of the scum buried alive in Imperial soil according to Imperial custom. The capital would know she was coming long before it saw her.

Good.

It would be interesting, and most educational, to see what sort of reception awaited her there.

This was not the first time Aranthia and the Empire had intermingled, of course, but it was the first time in years that such an intermingling would carry so much political significance. House Barbierri now numbered only the current King of Aranthia, Elidion II, and his sole issue, Crown Prince Velens. Seraphina’s father was the King’s cousin, his only remaining cousin and indirect family, the rest of Houses Sariens and Barbierri having been lost to succession wars, accidents, the odd impromptu poisoning, assassinations, and the various skirmishes that plagued the internecine warfare of Aranthia. In short, Seraphina herself had a claim to the throne which made her very valuable indeed.

That was also the reason Elidion had once wished for a match between her and Velens: to bind one of the most powerful houses in Aranthia to the crown and shore up his base of support. And, of course, to stop this scenario that was unfolding. Instead, the King had to the serpent whisperings of the Church, choosing the so-called Living Saint and blessings of the next life over the benefits of the current one.

No, that was not entirely fair, Seraphina was forced to admit.

The Church held real power. Its near monopoly on healing magic, its wealth, and its own military forces. It was a state within the state—or rather states within states as their influence could be felt all across the continent.

Seraphina swore that when she became queen, she would make the separation of church and state one of the first things she did. Appropriating some of their land would be necessary, of course. Purging some of their places of worship might also be required.

No, that was inefficient. Perhaps she could make herself the new head of the Church, as they had done in England? What a wonderful idea, she idly thought, playing with the idea as a cat does with its meal. History, it seemed, was simply full of good ideas.

As the sunset cast orange squares across her bed, Seraphina wondered about this and more while preparing for the Imperial Court. She lay on the bed, picking up a list of the dignitaries expected to be present, written on lengths of bamboo and held together by cord. She ran scenarios, discarded them, saw alliances form and collapse in her mind. But, there were too many variables. And, worse, she could not be bothered to summon Meilin and ask for clarification at this hour.

A girl had limits, after all.

Sighing, Seraphina set the bamboo list aside and closed her eyes. For a moment, she forgot all about emperors, handsome princes, divine mandates, useful governors, and the pursuit of power. Eventually, sleep decided to claim her.

***

Li Marius Longwei had been rather effusive in his thanks once Seraphina magnanimously informed him that she would not mention his less than stellar enforcement of Imperial law at the Pillars when she departed for the court. He had been so thankful, in fact, that he had presented her with quite a few talents of gold, his never-ending gratitude, and a blessing upon her and her house for a thousand years. People, the girl decided, could be so dramatic sometimes.

Now, two days later, Seraphina’s party was met outside the capital of Heavenly Splendor by the welcome of the Empire.

A full legion of men stood to attention along the road that led to the capital, clad from head to foot in heavy steel scale the color of evening, trimmed with dark bronze. At the head of each hundred men stood an officer, his helmet decorated with twin peacock feathers, a purple cape draped over his shoulders. Each and every one of them seemed to be of the same height and build, as if created from the same mold and polished afterward for public display. They were men of an ordered law.

And, to the young noblewoman’s discerning eyes, they were ceremonial rather than soldiers of war. After all, they were here, standing prettily beside a road, and not dealing with the rather pressing Enkarn problem. They were symbols of the soul of the Empire: tradition, ceremony, continuity, and the extraordinary confidence of a state that believed appearances could stand in for real and practical solutions.

Still, Seraphina could admire a good performance, could appreciate the necessity of it.

Beyond them, Tianhua rose beneath the pale spring sky. The green of her eyes glanced to one of the capital’s landmarks, the aqueduct. It strode across the land in a long procession of stone arches, taller than towers in places, carrying a shining ribbon of water toward the capital. The structure crossed the land and water gleamed in the open channel above, catching the sun. Smaller channels branched away from it, feeding gardens, reservoirs, bathhouses, and fountains.

The walls of city were vast, faced in pale stone and red brick, their gate towers roofed in green tile and crowned with gilded finials that flashed in the light. Banners hung from the battlements in long vertical streams of crimson, gold, and deep blue. The main gate stood open beneath a monumental archway, its doors sheathed in bronze and carved with dragons, phoenixes, clouds, and a double headed eagle.

As Seraphina’s carriage approached, the sounds of welcome rose to meet her. Cymbals clashed, drums rolled, and flutes and reed pipes joined in bright. Musicians stood in ordered groups beneath bright awnings, playing with cheerful discipline that the Empire had decreed was the proper measure of joy. As they entered the city, flower petals were scattered before the road in red, gold, white, and soft pink, drifting across the paving stones and catching beneath the wheels of her carriage.

Spike drew that carriage at the head of the procession, his harness cleaned and polished until the fittings shone. He walked with his head high, forest-colored coat brushed glossy, spiral horn gleaming beneath the sun. Every step he took sent a murmur of true wonder through the gathered crowd.

The citizenry of Tianhua lined the main thoroughfare in thick rows, held back by soldiers and painted wooden barriers. Men in scholar’s robes, merchants in fur-lined coats, artisans, old women wrapped in dark shawls, children sitting on their fathers’ shoulders, servants, clerks, priests, vendors, and idlers all crowded together to see the foreign barbarian girl noblewoman who had arrived with a Unicorn. A symbol of the Empire’s founding. 

Some pointed toward Spike with trembling hands. Some bowed as he passed. A few older women pressed their palms together and murmured prayers. Children laughed and waved flowers, apparently too young or too foolish to understand that the beautiful creature before them could happily bite a man in half just for the fun of it. More than once, Seraphina heard the word auspicious whispered through the crowd, carried from mouth to mouth like a spark finding dry grass. A Unicorn in the city of Tianhua. A beast of mandate and old stories, drawing the carriage of an Aranthian girl beneath falling petals.

Seraphina allowed the murmurs to build for several breaths before she leaned forward and opened the carriage window.

The effect was immediate.

Faces turned toward her, and even the music seemed to brighten. A fresh wave of flower petals was thrown into the air, drifting past the open window in soft, fragrant flurries. Seraphina lifted one gloved hand and waved with a measured grace, not too eager, not too distant, offering the crowd exactly enough warmth.

The cheers rose and Seraphina smiled faintly behind it all, because one should always be generous when receiving worship from strangers.

The wounded who still rode in their saddles sat straighter despite bandages, bruises, and the stiffness of half-healed injuries. Men walking beside the wagons lifted their chins. Armor was dented and more than one shield bore the scars of the battle among the Pillars, but there was pride in them now, hard and shining. They had been battered on the road, ambushed by thousands, and had come through it with Seraphina’s song.

Even Haze, pale and tired from the journey, held her Chordrelle case with a certain quiet dignity as she clutched it to her chest. Frest rode with the strange artifact secured near him, looking with pride like a man who had been entrusted with thunder of the gods. Miriam just looked like Miriam. Desdemona, naturally, waved from her own place as if the celebration had been arranged for her personally.

But Meilin, Meilin just watched the capital with a stillness that was far harder to read.

“This is quite the welcome,” Seraphina commented.

The Marquis’s daughter lowered her eyes, though the blonde girl saw wonder there for a moment.

The procession moved further along the main avenue, a broad road paved in fitted stone and lined with trees just beginning to bud. Shops and mansions rose on either side, their upper balconies crowded with onlookers. Some buildings wore the familiar language of the Empire in their sweeping roofs, painted beams, and carved brackets, while others stood with stone columns, arched colonnades, and severe courtyards hidden behind high walls. The two styles did not quite compete. They had lived together too long for that. Instead, they overlapped and melded stylish flavor.

At last, turning off past the main square, they were led toward the Spring Palace.

The palace stood within its own enclosed grounds, set apart from the greater press of the city by walls of white stone and red lacquered gates. Beyond those gates lay gardens arranged around ponds, covered walkways, and carefully placed rocks. Willows leaned over water where pale fish moved beneath the surface. Early blossoms had opened on carefully tended trees, and petals drifted down into the courtyards like a quieter reflection of the celebration outside.

The palace itself was a graceful complex of halls, pavilions, terraces, and colonnades. Green-tiled roofs swept upward at the corners, their ridgelines decorated with little beasts and heavenly guardians. Beneath them, rows of red pillars stood upon pale stone platforms, while broad arches opened onto shaded galleries. Some courtyards were framed by carved wooden screens and painted beams; others by columns of veined stone and walkways laid with mosaics of clouds, waves, and coiling vines. Bronze braziers smoked gently at the entrances, perfuming the air.

The procession slowed in the outer court. Servants in formal livery bowed in rows, their sleeves falling like folded wings. Officials waited with tablets and ceremonial smiles. More soldiers stood at attention, silent and polished professionals. 

Seraphina let her maid Miriam open the carriage door. Then she stepped down onto the pale stone, flower petals crushed faintly beneath her shoes, and turned her face toward the palace prepared for her.

The Court of the Jade Dragon had welcomed her beyond her wildest expectations. Now she would have to discover whether the welcome of the Heavenly Splendor was an embrace, a leash, or a gilded cage.