crown of self-interest

The Aetherborn Great Houses convened in the majestic halls of House Elara, the largest and most influential of all the Skyward Cities. The sprawling, ethereal structure was suspended in the air, high above the world below, supported by raw aetheric energy, a testament to the mastery the Aetherborn had over magical forces. The sky outside was a beautiful mix of deep purples and shimmering golds, typical of the Aetherborn’s skies, yet the atmosphere inside was far from serene.

Seated around a circular table, the heads of the Great Houses exchanged looks of unease. Lady Seris of House Elara sat at the center, her eyes sharp, scanning her fellow nobles. Opposite her was Lord Thalor, representing House Thalor, his brooding presence matched by the intensity in his gaze. The leaders of the other houses—Lorian, Aerith, and Vaedyn—shifted uncomfortably, aware of the growing tension. Each was a figure of immense power and influence in their own right, but tonight, they gathered not to revel in their accomplishments, but to discuss a pressing threat that loomed over them all.

The recent ascension of Zaros Valen had shaken the balance of power throughout the Skyward Cities, the Verdant Communion, and even beyond into the depths of the Abyss. His display of power was a stark reminder that no civilization was safe from his reach, and the Great Houses of the Aetherborn, usually more concerned with their internal politics, could no longer afford to ignore his rise.

“This cannot continue,” Lord Thalor finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that broke the silence. “Zaros has become too powerful. His ritual—if it has made him a god, as some say—poses a threat to us all. The balance we’ve carefully maintained for generations has been shattered.”

Lady Seris nodded, her expression grim. “We cannot pretend that our supremacy will protect us from Zaros. He has ascended beyond the confines of mortal understanding, and while the exact extent of his powers remains unclear, it is certain that his ambitions will not stop at dominion over his own realm.”

Lorian, a wiry man with sharp, calculating eyes, leaned forward. “But what can we do? If he truly is a god, how do we fight against that? Do we have the power to oppose him?”

“There is always a way,” Aerith interjected, her tone steady but cold. “Zaros may have ascended, but gods can fall. The balance of power is never static, and we must find a way to tip it in our favor.”

Vaedyn, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. “Perhaps the answer lies not in confronting him directly, but in undermining the foundations of his power. We know little about the source of his newfound strength, but it is tied to the arcane energies he commands. If we can disrupt that...”

The idea hung in the air for a moment, and the others exchanged thoughtful glances. Disruption was always a dangerous game to play, especially when it came to forces they did not fully understand, but it was perhaps their best option.

Before anyone could respond, the large double doors to the hall opened with a soft creak, and a figure cloaked in deep green robes entered. It was Lyra, the representative from the Verdant Communion. She moved with grace and purpose, her presence commanding attention even among the most powerful Aetherborn.

“The Verdant Communion is not blind to the dangers Zaros poses,” Lyra said, her voice soft yet carrying an edge of authority. “We too are concerned with the shifts in the natural balance his ascension has caused. The forest itself recoils from his power.”

Lady Seris regarded her carefully. “Then you understand what is at stake.”

“I do. But the solution may not lie solely in confrontation,” Lyra continued. “Zaros has always been a man of calculation. If we understand what drives him, perhaps we can exploit that. We need to learn his weaknesses—what he values, and what he fears.”

Lord Thalor scoffed, though not dismissively. “And what if he fears nothing? He may have transcended such concerns.”

“Perhaps,” Lyra said, undeterred. “But even the gods of old had vulnerabilities. Zaros is no different. There are forces greater than him, older than him—forces we might still call upon. The Verdant Communion has its ties to the ancient powers of the world, and the Great Houses possess more knowledge than you admit. Together, we might find a path forward.”

The room fell into a contemplative silence. The challenge before them was monumental. Zaros had not just ascended in power—he had ascended in influence, and with that came a new set of difficulties. Defeating him would not be as simple as breaking a line of soldiers or assassinating a rival. It would require strategy, cunning, and an alliance strong enough to withstand the backlash of a failed attempt.

After what felt like an eternity, Lady Seris finally spoke. “We must unite, then. The Aetherborn cannot face Zaros alone, nor can the Verdant Communion. We need to bring others into our fold. The Iron Dominion and the Twilight Consortium may hold the key to the weapons we need.”

At the mention of the Iron Dominion, the room grew tense. The Iron Dominion had long been a rival to the magical supremacy of the Aetherborn, with their reliance on technology and technomancy viewed with disdain. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“If the Iron Dominion can be persuaded to join us,” Lord Thalor began, “they may have the technological means to counter Zaros’s arcane abilities. But that is a big if.”

“And the Twilight Consortium?” Vaedyn asked. “They’re unpredictable, to say the least. Trusting them could be a mistake.”

“We need every advantage we can get,” Lady Seris said firmly. “We cannot afford to be selective in our allies. If we don’t act now, Zaros will grow too powerful to oppose. Every day we wait is a day he consolidates his influence.”

The room settled into agreement, though the tension remained palpable. Zaros had become a force they could not ignore, but in uniting their strength, they might have a chance at halting his ascension.

Lyra nodded in agreement. “I will reach out to the elders of the Verdant Communion. We must also consider the Phantom Court and the Chronomancers’ Enclave. They have remained neutral, but neutrality may not be an option for much longer.”

The Great Houses exchanged glances. The Phantom Court, rulers of death and necromancy, and the Chronomancers, masters of time itself—both were formidable forces, but involving them would raise the stakes considerably.

“We risk making this a war of the ages,” Aerith murmured, but there was no hesitation in her tone. She knew, as did the others, that war might be inevitable.

“We risk everything,” Lady Seris agreed. “But it is a risk we must take.”