-==-

A young Merian was reading aloud from a weighty book. His voice was sonorous
and firm yet could not fully mask the ragged breathing of the aged Merian Lady
who lay in the stately bed beside him. Her shrunken form was engulfed by the
bed and were it not for the grey cast over her weathered azure skin she might
have been mistaken for a young child peacefully sleeping away a juvenile
illness in her doting parents' bed. But the unforgiving light streaming in
through the large windows ensured the ravages time had made on her body would
not go unnoticed.

She listened to his voice with a drifting mind; unable to focus on his words
but finding the rhythm and form soothing. Her next breath was her primary
focus. Such a simple act had become a nearly insurmountable task and she felt a
sharp bitterness at the betrayal of her body.

She knew she was dying. She did not need the pitying looks of the healers or
the hushed voices of her scheming family members to tell her that. She could
feel the life seeping from her bones. It terrified her.

Throughout her life elderly acquaintances of hers spoke bravely of their lack
of fear of death. Filthy liars, the lot of them. How could one not be afraid?
Who could trust so fully in the Fates that no question or doubt remained? If
such a person existed, it certainly was not her.

Trust did not come easily for her. Her position did not lend itself to such
plebian sentiment. The high Celestine had come to her yesterday to speak softly
of letting go of regret so her soul might go unto unto the Light unfettered by
the past.

Utterly useless mumblings in her opinion. She was the Empress of the Holy
Celestine Empire. If she had regrets she could easily be free of then she had
done something wrong. Her life was one long progression of critical decisions
that often were made with little more information then a hunch. Yet none of
these weighed on her mind now.

No, her mind was mulling over her family. Her children. Her regrets regarding
that cursed enterprise would fill the Crystal Sea. Between one tortured breath
and the next her mind drifted back.

-==-

"Mother! I can reach it!" the little boy cried, his small limbs straining to
touch the crystal light that bobbed elusively over his head.

"Sidean, sit down." she hissed quietly, annoyed at the distraction. She saw the
wounded look and the inward drawing of his small form but took no note of it.
Had she known how often she would see it in the future and how grievously such
slights would damage the sensitive boy she might have chosen to act
differently.

Yet how could she recognize so early how far from her image her apple had
fallen? The boy had been nothing like her and all attempts to mold him into
something more pleasing had met with nothing but misery.

-==-

Flash forward seventeen years to this very suite of rooms. The small boy
transformed into this bitter, anger driven man before her. The pain in his eyes
remained though, silently reminding her that he was her greatest failure.

"I could never be good enough for you, Mother" he spat venomously, "Never
ambitious enough, never smart enough, never warrior enough. You wanted me to
fail! You wanted this all along."

His words rang true yet she could not admit such to herself so she responded in
an anger more drawn from him than herself, "Yes. That is exactly it, Sidean. I
hired all of those traitors to act as your friends and draw you into a plot
that endangered creation itself. It was me all along, forcing you to betray
your oaths, your family, your position, and your Light given duty."

He deflated at that. His silver eyes looking lost and scared and the defeated
slump to his shoulders betrayed his soul deep weariness. His head turned toward
the window staring out over the city that would never be his. It was understood
that it was over. "Finish this farce. We both know what you want. You can have
it. May Katria have more joy of it than I ever did."

With that he slipped the Heir's ring off his finger and let it drop to the
carpeted floor with a dull thud. He turned to leave and the mother within in
her screamed for her to go to him and gather him in her arms, soothe his pain
and tell him it would be all right. But the Empress in her bade her to stand
firm, show no weakness. The Empress won. She always did.

-==-

A dizzying shift backwards and a radiant young woman stands before her.
Outfitted in chain mail armour and exuding confidence from every pore she was a
duplicate of her mother's younger self. This child was a true reflection of her
and her pride in her was surpassed only by her disappointment in her son.

"It was nothing serious, Mother." the girl said flippantly. "Rebels give little
resistance at the best of times and these were particularly pathetic."

She smiled indulgently at her warrior daughter. "Well done Katria, well done."

-==-

No mother should survive a child. How many times had she heard that in her
life? It was a pithy phrase she supposed, trotted out at all the appropriate
times. Was it meant to be comforting? It wasn't.

The body before her showed no sign of the trauma it had undergone. She would
have to properly reward the women who had taken care of that. Earldoms perhaps.

They told her that the mob had come on them in the midst of a battle on the
Water plane. Starsuckers are not normally dangerous but anything takes on new
gravity when assisted by a horde of twenty ruffians. The dregs of society,
hired by a cult of traitors that just refused to be stamped out. Their mission
to take out the Heir by any means necessary. Why? Katria had just announced an
ambitious plan that would see an end to those who sought to plunder the
dimensions for their own deluded ambitions.

She had taken out twelve of them on her own before a lucky strike had slipped
through her defenses. Even then she kept fighting ignoring the mortal wound,
not succumbing to the pain until the threat was over. She had been a lion taken
down by a cowardly pack of jackals.

Her daughter. Her Heir. The child of her soul. The ceremony to lay her to rest
was scheduled for this evening. She could hear the crowd gathering even now,
the despairing wails penetrating the thick stone walls of the Palace. Katria
had been beloved by the people. They would watch from the docks as she was
returned to the sea as was befitting an Imperial Merian. And life would
continue.

A new Heir would be chosen. Already the family was scheming as they often did.
Katria had no issue yet. Would she reinstate Sidean? What of Sidean's young
son? Would she choose another member of the family?

The soft scuff of a boot on the marble floor of the chapel roused her from her
meandering thoughts. She focused grief worn eyes on her son. He looked as
unsure and weak as always and a surge of hate swelled in her with alarming
force. It should have been him.

"Come to see the work of your friends?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft.

He flinched, his eyes betraying his surprise. "My...Mother surely you do not
believe I had any knowledge of this?"

She knew he did not. Yet her rage would not let her grant him forgiveness "Do I
not? You have been ever resentful of your sister. I see you skulk sullenly
around her. Your acidic comments regarding her. I am not blind."

"I am here to pay my respects. I wish no quarrel with you." his words were
strong but his voice trembled. It may have been in grief but she only heard the
weakness.

"You are not welcome here. You might as well have been holding the dagger
yourself. You are a traitor to the blood." she spat.

He was silent at that. He gazed at his sister's still form and what thoughts
were going through his mind she could only guess. He had become skilled at
guarding his inner self from her.

"I would love nothing so much as to exchange places with her. To return your
beloved daughter with the sacrifice of your hated son. Yet I cannot." he said
in a voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper.

She turned away from him, returning her gaze to her daughter's form. "Then you
have no purpose here. Leave us. I have no son."

He opened his veins an hour after the funeral. There was little mourning,
simply an immediate scrambling for position. A month later she sent for
Sidean's six year old son, Ladantine.

-==-

Another rush of time and it is twelve years later. Tarnius, her nephew, best
friend of Sidean and now her trusted advisor was speaking in a voice urgent
with concern.

"Do not do this your Majesty. Ladantine is a good lad and he shows great talent
in planar physics but he has the same weaknesses as his father. But even worse
than that he has the burden of his father's legacy on him. Do you not see his
recklessness? He is desperate to prove he is not his sire. Desperate to do
something great enough to finally lay to rest his ghost. It will lead to ruin,
mark my words."

"I hear your words Tarnius but I feel you overestimate the problem. He is an
adolescent. They are all reckless. He will mature into the potential I see in
him." she reassured him.

He shook his head stubbornly, "No, Empress, it is more than that. The boy is
flawed. Choose another Heir. Duke Narius would be an excellent choice."

"I have an Heir and that is the end of it. If you had nothing else to speak of,
you may leave me."

His shoulders sagged in defeat as he turned to leave. His parting words were
low but they carried. "Do not sacrifice the Empire to soothe a guilty
conscience. Sidean is gone. Katria is gone. Ladantine cannot be your redemption
for your failures with your children."

-==-

She was in the present now. It was amazing the clarity death brought. She could
admit Tarnius' was right. She regretted sending him into exile for speaking the
truth. No one else had been brave enough to bring up the problem since.

And now it was too late. Her grandson was reading her passages from the Book of
Light, waiting patiently for her to expire so he might take up a crown he wanted
far too desperately and which he was wholly unsuited for.

She longed to speak out; struggled to eke out a last whisper of warning, give
one last bit of advice or name another in Ladantine's place. But her time had
run out and the Light was leaving her eyes.

Regrets. They weighed heavily on her spirit. The Light would forgive her
certainly, but would history?

-==-

Thus passed Her Divine Grace, Empress Sinenth. A shrewd and uncompromising
ruler, she had maintained a golden age for the Empire despite the personal
tragedies of the royal family.

All hail Ladantine VII, Emperor of the Holy Celestine Empire under the Grace of
the Most Holy Supernals of Divine Celestia. May his reign be blessed.