He was the Duke of the Inner Reaches. He had left many things behind on Alternia, those many cycles ago – now, officially, only the Empress of Wrath outranked him – well, not an Empress in the strictest definition, but he had not avoided death this long by sticking out his neck unnecessarily. That was what orange-bloods were for.
And yet, sitting here, on a ship that was supposedly his to command, he was being ferried between one of the many planets of the four inner reaches. Which one? Who cares, the crew on deck – or the captain – or someone decided that. So long as the empress kept her royal bone bulge out of the inner reaches and on her campaign, he didn’t really care. Make a royal judgment, oversee a mine inspection, supervise the collection for Mother Grub…
Seriously, when you thought about it, “Duke of the Inner Reaches”? It was a historical title, but why not something more… impressive? The 8 Outer Regents all had cool titles, didn’t they?
“Your Tyranny, We received mail”.
The duke looked up from the text he had been supposedly studying, “So? What does that have to do with Us?”
“Readifiers wondered if you might not want to personally respond to this one.”
“Because…”, He nodded to the guard in the hall to let the Troll through.
“Her Lusus is on the Doomsday Scale.”
“Where is that?”
The Adviser tried not to give a sigh of disgust, “Alternia Proper, sir.”
“Ah, of course,” The Duke’s eyes nervously scanned the room for anyone else that might have heard his gaff. Thankfully, there was only some orange blood bringing in a glass of something-or-other – one that wasn’t practiced at dodging.
His Tyranny was not known for having a steady hand.
TO H1S ROY4l TYR4NNY; DUK3 OF TH3 1NN3R R34CH3S, R3G4NT OF –
Yadda yadda yad…
– H1GHLORD3 OF TH3 GRUBS’ CR4DL3 –
Yeah, no cool titles at all. Was that chalk dust?
He read through the bespeckled page – it seemed to be an invitation to lunch veiled in a question about a senator that he had ordered hung almost a cycle ago. The letter itself seemed to have been in transit for several months.
“This troll… How old is … she?”
“Six Cycles as of now, your Tyranny.”
“Then she probably has forgotten that it was ever sent.”
The advisor looked down at his feet, “It is most likely so, your Tyranny.”
Just as he shuffled back out of the door, the Adviser’s hands flew up to his own head. He spasmed wildly for a moment, then started pulling on his own horns, as if in an attempt to dislodge them.
“What is – To Us, Guards!” The Duke screamed. The noticed the throbbing of his own head, and beyond the Adviser, who seemed to have suddenly been covered in a slick of yellow, saw a large orange something quivering on the floor.
The Duke’s hands felt moist. Was this an attack? No… He stumbled around his chair, something to do with an emergency was… somewhere…
He could not hear the silence that had come over the vessel that was supposedly his. Could not feel the noticeable drop in air pressure, as the galley was automatically vented into space to stop an inferno triggered by a neglected fire. Saw nothing but a film of violet, slowly trying to obstruct his vision.
The floor was not cold. The floor was not hard.
~
The ship continued to sail towards its destination, slowly heating as it passed by so many suns. No one to stop it, no one to care.
___
Originally at https://www.deviantart.com/sudrien/art/Failures-of-the-Alternia-Mail-186866112
It existed, might as well copy it over.
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