Another council meeting, another waste of time. Luckily, or more of a convenience. My companion couldn’t sit in for this meeting. Huson has an important job to do that prevents him from attending the meeting. If only I have the luxury.

  The council members bicker and argue about policies and what should change. Completely ignoring the war that is happening right now. I have to attend these meetings because I am in a position of authority that can dictate the course of action about any subject of our glorious Empire.

  In the end, I don’t care. I don’t care about the lives of the average person when I am chosen by the Empress to fight an enemy that threatens our realm. It isn’t because I am apathetic, but the role I am put in requires me to focus on different matters. I shouldn’t even be here to begin with, nor should they influence the Empire’s military. All that will do is create an internal conflict of interests, and in my case, weaken our defences because they don’t understand basic military strategies and tactics. We can better spend our time and resources elsewhere.

  Hacket stands to proclaim any news regarding the Dog’s naval efforts. A report I am already aware of, but we still have to go over it one more time for them. He calmly explains to everyone in the room that the Dogs’ presence around our nation’s waters has diminished, stating that the Dogs have stopped their operations with their hijacked ships and inexperienced crew.

  He speculates that the numerous defeats around Ladies Island made the Dogs demoralised and unwilling to continue their efforts to invade the island or go around it to attack the port town of Taldra.

  While it is a good summary of the report he has given me. It is skipping a few key details. While the Dogs are showing less interest in naval operations now compared to a few months ago. They still have an ample supply of vessels in the Kivs’ harbour, and theoretically are able to match our current fleet. Hacket is only colourising the entire ordeal to make it digestible for the people in control of our everyday lives.

  If I haven’t made an excuse to jump off the tallest building in the city before. I do now. I hate repetition, especially of things that are just a dumbed-down version of what I already am aware of.

  The Empress isn’t here. Perhaps she is doing something else far more important than listening to old men bicker and screak about the world. I sure wouldn’t if I had the choice. Benston is in the room in her place, acting as a mediator in case anyone misbehaves or the meeting is becoming unruly. From the looks of things, even he is growing tired of these meetings.

  Finally, after hours of waiting and listening. We enter the final part of today’s agenda. The defence initiative. The part I am impatiently waiting to deal with for today.

  Rubbing the ridge of my nose and groaning in annoyance, knowing that winter is approaching. I can tell the council in this room will make budget cuts because they doubt that the Dogs will attack the north. They always do this sort of thing whenever they feel comfortable with their new norm. Not understanding that it would only make us weaker when the Dogs do attack.

  An old woman stands up, one of the council members who keeps preaching for my plan to be defunded with every month that passes. I suppose she will shout the same diatribe against my plan to the entire room.

  ‘As winter approaches, we haven’t seen any evidence that the Dogs will attack us. We haven’t even noticed any crossing the desert! I doubt that the war will come here, and I doubt the Dogs will have any intentions to march north at this rate. I strongly suggest we should redirect our funding to what is clearly important to our cause! The invasion of the South is necessary to get back what is rightfully ours. Setting up defences for an attack that will never happen is a waste of funding and resources. Resources we should spend elsewhere.’

  An elderly man stands up with a wide smile. ‘Councillor Abbot and I have already written up a war plan, as well as already acquired funding for this new initiative. All we need is the support of all of you to gain momentum against the treacherous beasts! General Regali has proven himself incapable of building a defensive plan that can protect us. We can all see it isn’t ready; we all are aware how rushed and not well off our soldiers are. Clearly, defence is not his strength, which makes me urge everyone to support a new approach to this threat.’

  He and Abbot sit back down, proud of themselves for shouting their idiotic opinion. What out of touch morons!

  I stand up to counter-argue the tramp and malnourished fossil. ‘It is clear to me and everyone with any comparable military knowledge and experience, will know that the Dogs have finished their scouting operations. To give you an idea, before any mass military movement, we will bring the majority of our force together before a long march. It is clear that the Dogs are doing the same because they are mirroring our strategies and doctrines against us! An attack on the North is not just imminent, but a certainty. We are so woefully unprepared because you and other members of this council keep agreeing to cut funding to defend the lands you swore to protect!’

  Before every council meeting can begin, and before any policy changes or military operations can be approved. Everyone must read through the proposed bill before it is discussed and voted on. I spent most of my weekend reading what she thinks is a plan.

  That old woman, Councillor Abbot, has an inadequate plan that relies on speculation and ignorance. At one part of the strategy, it even has a quote that originated from a fantasy novel, which tells the story of an adventurer and their drake companion. I have the misfortune to read her senile dribble. She shouldn’t be here, nor should she be taken seriously for how idiotic her plan is.

  ‘This plan she is proposing is made by a clueless charlatan! Two million soldiers invading through the desert and the rest attacking north from Ol Shire!? She is also asking for an additional ten million soldiers, most of whom are from our colonies, to fight on our island against a relentless enemy. Let alone the plan will fail as the Dogs will most likely have fortified the South by now! What she is proposing isn’t a plan to take the South, but to kill off our army again! Either because the Dogs killed them off, or because our supply lines collapsed because we have too many mouths to feed. We don’t even have two million soldiers on hand! Most of our forces are spread out throughout our colonies. Where can we even get this extra ten million? A wishing well? Because of her, she diverted funds from the defence initiative to support her backwater plan that is pure fantasy. Putting our island at risk.’

  The room erupts in a roar, every civilian councillor disapproving of what I have to say about them. I don’t care; this is a war we shouldn’t take lightly.

  ‘Order! Order!’ Benston shouts as he bangs his gavel.

  ‘This wouldn’t have happened if we followed the plan I put foward!’ I continue, my voice full of wrath at the entire council. ‘If my plan were followed, we would be prepared for the Dogs. Even if they didn’t attack, we would have enough manpower and logistics to mount an effective invasion in just a few months with what I should have. But you all love to drown in your own luxury, and because of you! Setting up a force to invade the South will take over a year and not in a matter of months as originally planned! The incompetence from the people in this room is astounding, an embarrassment to the world and our fellow subjects of the Empire.’

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ‘Order!’ Benston yells once more. I sit back down, finished with what I have to say to the people in the room. ‘I can understand your frustration, General. But please, keep your anger to a minimum as we all discuss the future of the defence initiative.’

  Abbot smiles as she stands back up to speak. ‘As you have all witnessed today, the young General couldn’t hold his temper, and he is unable to provide evidence to justify the initiative. Like a child having a tantrum, this is why we shouldn’t have young people who lack the experience of our nation’s politics shout and beg for her gold to enact their foolish desires and dreams. Defunding the defence initiative once more won’t harm the Empire, except the ego of the premature warlord.’

  The other council members clap and cheer for the old woman. Praising her for her stance. The only people who didn’t stand are anyone in the Empire's military or branches of the church's armed militia.

  There is no point in arguing anymore. They already made up their minds.

  ‘Permission to depart?’ I ask Benston.

  He gives me a nod, knowing that I need some fresh air or I’ll start an altercation with one of the oligarchs. ‘You may depart.’

  I excuse myself. Leaving the room so I don’t hear their verdict. I don’t care if it is rude or unprofessional. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of them risking the Empire because they couldn’t understand basic military concepts.

  I storm my way outside of the palace, to the only place where it is calming and out of sight of those fools. The gardens will do.

  Hannah would like the view of the palace’s garden. How the hedges are laid out, how the flowers are pruned and trimmed, spaced out to look like lettering or some imagery. None of them is as remarkable as the tree with purple leaves.

  At the centre of the garden stands a lonesome tree with pink leaves that glitters and shines as light touches its surface. A tree the gods gifted us to remind us of the world we have forgotten, a future we will never have or experience. A world with magic. Sometimes I wonder if that is the case, if the Gods gave us the tree or if it was the last of its kind.

  But the more I look at the tree, the more it reminds me of my failure. After what happened in the South and my experience at Tundo. This feels like a cruel joke, a laugh at what we have failed to obtain. This isn’t a gift, but a scar. A pain to remind us at every waking moment, as I struggle to piece the pain together. Grief isn’t something one can recover from, even after a year of their death.

  Perhaps my pain clouds me from the wisdom of the Gods. Maybe the war is making me bitter and blind to the beauty of the world. Have I lost my way? That must be the case, since the word of my faith should guide me. It shows me and many others the truth of the world and the potential of our Empire. Instead, I replace scripture with documents, troop details and detailed lists of weapons manufacturing. Maybe I need to visit the church soon to cleanse my soul. I can’t let heretical or doubtful thoughts overcome me in times of war. Not when the Gods can guide me to an easy victory.

  I sit down on the nearest bench, watching as the sun is calmly going down. The pleasant scent of daisies and lavender cleanses my aching soul with a single breath. I wonder how the world can seem so calm when everything is falling apart. Perhaps people are pretending to put on a smile during times of war, I don’t know.

  It makes me wonder how my ma and pa are doing. I should visit them someday. Perhaps after this war, to see how they are doing. Gods, I hope my siblings are doing okay as well. I doubt any of them are living close to the desert, but I also fear they didn’t take my warnings well and moved out of the island or head to the northern cities. When the Dogs attack, they will be in our lands, all I can hope for is to keep them in one area long enough to win a war of attrition.

  ‘Leaving the meeting didn’t sway them from defunding the initiative. If that was your aim.’ I turn around to see Hacket approach me. He seems tired as well, frustrated with the events that have played out.

  ‘No,’ I sigh. ‘I just have had enough of this madness. You and I know they are coming, and every day that passes, every meeting booked and conducted. We make ourselves weaker. At this point, I doubt we can even push the Dogs out of the North if they do attack us.’

  ‘Not even you can beat them?’

  I chuckle, ‘no one can. This is a clusterfuck and one we will all suffer from.’

  Hacket takes a deep breath as he sits down next to me. ‘You are regarded as the most intelligent Generals of our era. Your staff respect you dearly, and I heard some even spent most of their salaries funding this initiative. I’m sure a young prodigy like you can come up with something to win this war.’

  ‘With what little the council gives me? There is no way I can even win this war. While the council fumbles and focuses on meaningless investments, the Dogs will be prepared! Even if we made their ranks bleed, there are mines and plantations here they can use to recuperate their losses. I don’t have enough to win a ground war.’

  Hacket pulls out a pipe from his jacket. Before he smokes it, he reaches for a letter with a naval seal on it from his jacket. ‘I felt bad for you the day you were given the position. You are too young to have known the inner workings of the council. It was never made for folks like you,’ he passes me the envelope. ‘In politics, to win. You have to find allies elsewhere.’

  I take the envelope, unsure what it entails. ‘This is a war…’

  Hacket interrupts me. ‘War is just politics being physical. This case is no different, and you are in desperate need of support.’

  ‘And what will this do to help me?’ I tap at the envelope he gave me.

  ‘Names, Volas. This will give you the names of people who will help you. If you give them the right coin or offer them a favour, that is. They are the bottom feeders of society, murderers, thieves, and the unapologetically greedy. If you need soldiers, or even supplies, they can get you some.’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t have any money.’

  Hacket stands up, mumbling while he stretches his legs and back to stand up straight. ‘I’ll get that sorted. I have some old friends who still owe me. So, you will have your money to help fund the initiative and your new allies. The contents of that letter will tell you everything you need. But remember this, I didn’t give you the letter and we didn’t have this conversation.’ His lips form a half smile before he wobbles away.

  My thumb traces over the naval seal. If this is what he says is true. This can help me a lot, even if it was a bit late. But… I can’t complain. This is all I have on me. I open the letter to see a list of names, their addresses, and what they are. One name strikes me with dread. The Silencer.