The Empire of the Sun

Deep in the Zêmite bush, King Khaz was training his daughter Shaya to hunt. The hot, dry air caressed the princess’s face as she searched for prey. Birds and other creatures of the wild could be heard cooing; it didn’t matter which creatures they hunted, as long as they had a prize to bring back to camp. The king watched his daughter, silent and focused. Dressed like a guard in white wool trousers and a red tunic with leather shoes, she surveyed her surroundings with furrowed brows. Khaz smiled tenderly. Shaya was the spitting image of her father, and had been since childhood. Whether in physical appearance or temperament, they were identical. Although she was a woman, his daughter had never truly enjoyed acting like a weak and fragile woman. King Khaz, on the other hand, wore a long yellow tunic that covered his shoulders to his knees, loose cotton trousers, and sandals. He never wore his court clothes for hunting, however, he still had his sun-shaped medallion around his neck, a medallion which he never removed under any pretext.

She was just like him: fearless, adventurous, curious, and above all, very temperamental. Of his three children, none resembled him more than his youngest daughter. Shaya stopped abruptly and signaled to her father behind her and the guards accompanying them to do the same. The sovereign looked up in the same direction and noticed a panther. Silently focused on her target, she drew two arrows from her quiver and fired one into the animal’s flank. The panther roared, and as soon as its jaws were open, the princess loosed her second arrow and shot it in. The panther collapsed, and King Khaz felt his heart swell with pride. The servants retrieved the trophy, and the princess smiled proudly.

— You’ve improved yourself, two arrows and you finished it off. That’s impressive.

— You’ll see next time, I’ll get it in one go.

— It’s a beautiful animal, its fur looks to be of high quality.

— Yes, it is, you can see that, you can’t give my fur to Amarhe this time, she said softly.

A bitter memory resurfaced in the princess’s mind. She saw herself at sixteen, having caught her first game, a small fox with large teeth. This species of devil was known for its speed and immaculate white fur, and she was proud to have caught one at such a young age. This feat had earned her many compliments from her peers, and she had felt great joy. The attention focused on her younger sister had not pleased her elder sister, Princess Amarhe. Amarhe had therefore forced her to relinquish her trophy, using her title. Resigned, she reluctantly had to give up the magnificent white fur. She had been inconsolable for a whole week. Thinking about that day still saddened her, and the memory left a bitter taste in her mouth. The king, understanding what she was referring to, darkened his expression. Amarhe and her mother, Queen Jahri, had always used their titles to persecute Shaya and her poor mother. Shaya was born the daughter of a concubine of his consort Zeina. From their earliest days, humiliation and abuse punctuated the daily lives of the children he loved. According to Zemite law, they were obligated to submit without ever objecting, but Jahri and Amahre obviously abused this privilege.

— Such beautiful fur, give it to your sister? She wouldn’t know what to do with it, and if you decide to give it to anyone, it should be to your old father.

“You, old? If you’re old, what are you doing here hunting with me? I should have asked Yerim to come with me then,” she laughed.

“Really? Well, I’m offended. You do almost everything with your little brother, and now you even want to give him our rare hunting trips? You forget that it was me who taught you to hunt and who made this bow,” replied the sovereign amused.

“Yerim is improving, you know? He’s not better than me, obviously, but hunting with him is fun because I always bring back more game than he does. Sometimes I bring back fewer than him, but mines are always bigger. He can’t seem to grasp that a woman could hunt better than him, and I find that hilarious.”

Shaya laughed heartily, teasing his brother. Although he had always lamented that his eldest daughter and Shaya weren’t close, King Khaz had always adored the affection between Shaya and her brother, to the point of envying it. He wished he had the same bond with his own siblings. From the moment he was born, Shaya had shown a special interest in her little brother. When he was still a newborn, she could spend hours watching him sleep whenever she was allowed. She marveled at every little thing about him: his shallow breathing, his tiny finger, and his skin, which was so much fairer than it was now. Shaya had always adored Yerim for as long as he could remember. He smiled at the thought. Suddenly, a guard appeared on the horizon. He was running toward them, a look of panic plastered on his face. He stumbled, then sprang to his feet before bowing, his fist on the ground.

“Y-your majesty,” he tried to articulate through erratic breathing.

— Well? What’s going on? I specifically asked not to be disturbed. I hope what you have to tell me is important, otherwise you’ll lose your head. I don’t like being disturbed when I’m spending time with my daughter.

“The messenger who left for the empire of the sun has just returned, my lord,” he replied in a panic.

King Khaz didn’t show it, but a feeling of anguish washed over him. He gestured to the soldier to stand and moved further away so his daughter couldn’t hear them. Shaya didn’t hear what they were saying, but she quickly guessed from their body language that the situation was dire. The soldier leaned toward her father and whispered something in his ear. Upon hearing this terrible news, King Khaz tightened his grip on his sword and closed his eyes. The news was bad, very bad.

— Shaya, he addressed her imperiously.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she asked anxiously.

— We are returning to camp, the council must meet and every member of the royal family must be present.

Shaya bowed and followed her father and the guards toward the camp. It was no longer her smiling father she saw before her, but an implacable sovereign, heeding the call of duty. They quickly reached the camp on horseback. Upon their arrival, the king wasted no time and summoned the council and the entire royal family.

“Shaya, you’re also required to appear.” he informed her flatly. “Don’t bother going to change, it’s not necessary.”

Shaya simply nodded and followed her father. Together, they headed towards the tent of the war deity, where all official procedures, especially those concerning war, took place. King Khaz looked grim, yet he displayed an Olympian calm. This contrast terrified his daughter, whose stomach felt a growing knot of anxiety. Something bad, perhaps even terrible, awaited them. Shaya could sense it.

The royal palace was a complex of tents and underground galleries dug beneath it, allowing magical currents to flow freely, as the concentration of magic within the palace was too great for it to simply circulate through the air. Each member of the royal family had a tent, the size of the tent indicating the rank of the person living there: bloody red for the king, yellow for the queen and her descendants, green for the concubine and her descendants, blue for the queen dowager, black for administrative tents, and brown for other members of the royal family. The tents were grouped behind high barriers and guarded day and night within the capital, Ndiourbel.

— What is troubling you so, child?

The goddess Juali, worshipped by the Zemite people, emerged from the depths of the princess’s subconscious, and Shaya began to tremble. She always felt this way when the deity manifested.

— I don’t know Juali, misfortune is looming, I’m worried.

“Your intuition has always been very strong, I imagine that this time again, Princess, you must be right. Don’t worry, when you reveal yourself, whatever the crisis, you will manage to overcome any disaster.”

— That day will never come, I refuse to let it happen and you know it.

— Never say never, my child. One day, you will have no choice, and when that day comes, I will be by your side.

The goddess’s presence faded, and the voice in Shaya’s mind fell silent. She entered the tent, tense. The two guards at the entrance beat their fists to their chests and bowed as the two members of the Zemite dynasty passed. King Khaz took his place on his gold and bronze throne atop the lapis lazuli platform and sheathed his sword. He gestured to his daughter to sit beside him on one of the bronze thrones to his right. To the king’s left stood Queen Jahri’s silver and white gold throne, along with two silver thrones, one for the prince and one for the princess. To his left were two bronze thrones, one on which Shaya sat, and the other directly beside hers for the consort Zeina. Zeina, being a concubine, was not permitted to sit on a seat made of any material other than bronze. Her only daughter and descendant was subjected to the same treatment. The tent was immense. In its center was a large hearth, unlit at that precise moment, as the season did not require its use.

The ceiling was high. The tent walls were covered in tapestries. Most of the tapestries depicted the previous monarchs in heroic situations. One depicted Queen Chaoni slaying the legendary black lion of the fiery cliffs, King Syrak killing the Simépione, a chimera with the head of a bison, the body of a tiger, and two snakes for tails, and Prince Menias killing his father, the cruel and unjust King Ohlias. Several torches were planted in the ground, and carpets covered the floor. A huge orb of light levitated above a second hearth. This orb was used by the mage Arkias, a full member of the council. Gradually, the tent filled with council members, all of whom had confused expressions on their faces.

The council members arrived and knelt, then crossed their forearms over their chests in a gesture of respect. The council consisted of Grand General Ilay, Grand Advisor Seni, brother of Queen Jahri, Mage Arkias, General Lei, Inquisitor Eryan, and Minister of State Amaryan, the king’s best friend and confidant.

“What is Princess Shaya doing here?” the grand advisor exclaimed angrily.

“She is a member of the royal family and the subject of this meeting concerns both the people and the royal family, Grand Advisor,” replied the king wearily, slumped on his throne, his head supported by his right hand.

— Even if your maj-

— Seni, would you like to sit in my seat and lead instead of me ?

“I would never dare such a folly, Your Majesty,” he said, kneeling precipitously on the ground with his fists bound in front of him.

— Well then, don’t question my choices anymore. Now get up.

Shaya smiled inwardly and suppressed a mocking laugh.

Queen Jahri, her two maids, her elder sister Amahre, as well as her maids Jar and Liu, and her

The younger brother, Crown Prince Yerim, and his tutor entered. Shaya rose to bow before her stepmother.

“What is she doing here?” asked the queen disdainfully at the sight of her daughter-in-law.

— Shaya is my daughter and, moreover, a princess, why couldn’t she be here?

In a fraction of a second, the air crackled with an electric tension that everyone could feel. A strained smile crossed the queen’s face as she bowed to her husband and returned to her throne, casting a hateful glance at Shaya. The council knelt once more, this time to greet the queen. Zeina, too, entered, her grace and gentleness usually evident, as she bowed to the king with a soft smile. The king smiled as soon as he caught her eye, and his concubine proceeded to her seat without the sovereign taking his eyes off her for a single second. Amarhe, also irritated, took her seat, casting a disapproving look at her younger sister, who sat back down without greeting her, her face calm. Yet another trait she shared with her father. Amarhe, who had sat down, suddenly stood up, letting her shawl fall from her arms to the floor. Attention was drawn to her as usual and she stormed angrily towards her younger sister.

“You dare not greet me,” she said angrily, leaning forward.

The younger sister, who had grown accustomed to these displays of anger over the years, didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. The ever-stoic princess remained perfectly still in her seat, which only enraged her elder sister further. Amahre was about to slap her when her younger sister, who had been staring straight ahead, glanced only to meet her sister’s gaze, which immediately froze. What Amahre saw in her eyes terrified her: a promise of death preceded by excruciating suffering. Her hand, frozen in midair, could not bring itself to touch the cheek of the one she considered a disgrace.

“Amahre!” the king roared angrily. “Enough of your whims! Go back and sit down immediately. I don’t want to hear another word from you!”

Jahri wanted to defend her daughter, but remained silent, given the anger that consumed him; it was best not to add fuel to the fire. She could always punish the impudent girl later, she thought. Amarhe bowed awkwardly and returned to her seat beside her mother and brother. The sovereign rose from his throne, and judging by his expression, whatever the reason for convening the council, the situation was grave.

— You probably guessed it, but the reason I summoned you today is because we are facing a crisis.

Silence and anguish reigned in the room at that moment; everyone was hanging on the king’s every word, waiting for answers.

— I refused to submit the kingdom of Zem to the status of a vassal of the empire of the sun, and now Emperor Maha declares war on us.