Moonlight poured through the glass windows of the office, casting a pale silver glow across the room. Standing before one of those windows was Sluzea D. Acroma, the second-in-command of the Democratic Ascendancy, or DA for short, who held the position of vice president.
"Tell me what news you bring," she demanded.
Behind her stood a figure draped in a heavy black cloak. Thin black gauntlets covered their hands, while a mask concealed their face, revealing only a pair of emerald-green eyes.
Their attire made it impossible to discern their gender.
"The princess lives," the figure reported. Their voice was neither distinctly masculine nor feminine, carrying a calm, inscrutable quality.
"So the soldiers failed," she remarked. Though the news was hardly what she had hoped to hear, it was not a particularly grave setback. Then again, the fault lay with her for dispatching only lower-ranking soldiers. That aside, she inquired, "Who aided the princess?"
"A demon did."
"A demon?!" she exclaimed, swiftly turning around to look directly at the masked figure. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Surely you are not jesting with me, for if you are, then this is one hell of a sick joke."
"I do not jest," the figure replied, drawing a prism-colored marble from within their elongated sleeve. They placed it upon the desk, where stacks of papers lay scattered across its polished surface. Most consisted of expenditure reports, troop deployment records, and documents concerning the allocation of resources throughout the Democratic Ascendancy.
"A memory marble? Where did you acquire one? They are exceedingly difficult to come by."
"I have my ways. Though they are still rare, I would not ordinarily resort to using one. However, the gravity and peculiar nature of this matter demand it."
She took her seat as the marble began to shine. A ray of prismatic light emerged from it and struck the ceiling. Moments later, images began to play.
She watched as DA soldiers pursued the princess, though their numbers were fewer than she had anticipated, most having perished in the crossfire against the princess's loyalist soldiers. The scene shifted to the Emagar Forest, where the princess, exhausted and desperate, stumbled to the ground. One of the soldiers stepped forward, poised to deliver the final blow.
Then the demon appeared.
With brutal efficiency, it slaughtered the remaining guards before kneeling beside the fallen princess. Leaning close, the creature whispered something into her ear, words the memory marble failed to convey.
"What did the demon whisper into her ear?!" she demanded, slamming her hands against the desk.
This development was deeply troubling. The newly established democratic government had yet to fully stabilize, and it was already beset by countless issues. Former aristocrats still refused to relinquish their privileges, with many already waging war against the Democratic Ascendancy. Then there were those who remained loyal to the princess, not to mention foreign interference. And now, the former princess had chosen to return, backed by the power of a demon.
"What is the name of this demon?" Sluzea inquired. "And how powerful is he exactly?"
"The demon calls himself Zelda. As for the extent of his power..."
The images shifted, revealing a battle between Zelda and another demon, a beastlike creature with stitched eyes, emerald-green lips, and a dragon-like tail. The monstrous demon appeared immensely powerful, unleashing devastating attacks upon Zelda with savage ferocity.
Yet Zelda effortlessly vaporized the creature.
The display was so one-sided that it scarcely resembled a battle at all. It was less a clash between equals and more an execution.
"This is absurd! H-how are we supposed to prevail against that thing?!" she exclaimed in utter despair. If the beast like demon who create minture suns was nothing more than a toy towards this demon called Zelda, they were more like bacterias in comparison.
"I suggest summoning the Hero's Party. They have been contending with the demonic incursions that have long plagued the kingdoms along the northern border, led by the Demon King's elite. They should be capable of dealing with this demon."
Sluzea pondered the suggestion for a moment before replying, "But would they? The Demon King himself is soon expected to launch an assault upon the northern border. How could the heroes come to our aid at such a critical moment?"
"I can arrange for mass teleportation, so transportation is not an issue," the figure replied. "However, a considerable sum must be offered to the Hero's Party as an incentive, should they prove reluctant to come."
Sluzea grimaced. "We are already running low on funds. I doubt we can muster such a vast amount..."
"Then why not levy additional taxes upon the territories under the Democratic Ascendancy's complete control? It should be sufficient to cover the cost."
"If we did that, the people would grow resentful toward us, not that many of them aren't already. Several regions have yet to recover from the devastation wrought by the bloody conflicts we were forced to wage against the royalist and aristocratic forces alike."
"Then tax the rich."
"Do you think we haven't?" Sluzea retorted. "We have already seized more than ninety percent of their wealth, and extracting any more would only plunge even more people into poverty and homelessness. Worse still, it would likely force whatever businesses they have left to shut down, leaving thousands upon thousands without work."
The masked figure remained silent for a moment.
"If not the rich," they mused, "then that leaves the poor and the middle class."
"Both are out of the question," Sluzea answered immediately.
"Then perhaps we should make deals with the aristocrats. Promise those willing to aid us that they may retain some measure of privilege."
They paused before adding,
"I know such a course goes against the principles the Democratic Ascendancy seeks to spread, but we have little choice. It will not be long before the princess arrives here alongside the demon."
Their emerald eyes narrowed.
"And perhaps an army of monsters as well."
The magical images hovering in the air shifted, displaying the pair's latest accomplishment.
Twenty Dire Wolves.
A Greater Dire Wolf.
The beginnings of an army.
"The hardest choices require the strongest will," the masked figure remarked quietly.
Sluzea closed her eyes.
Perhaps they were right.
With a weary sigh, she returned to her desk.
Then she opened one of its drawers.
From within, she withdrew a plain sheet of paper. Dipping a feather pen into a bottle of ink, she began writing.
The scratching of the nib against parchment was the only sound in the room.
Once she had finished, she pressed her seal upon the document.
Then she folded it carefully and slid it into an envelope.
A blob of red wax dripped onto the flap.
Pressing the insignia of the Democratic Ascendancy into it, she sealed the letter shut.
The masked figure remained silent, watching.
"A message?" they inquired.
"An order, to be more precise," Sluzea replied. "Deliver it to Brigadier Conquesta. He is currently stationed in Rodesia."
She rested both arms upon the desk.
"I have made my choice."
The masked figure stepped forward and accepted the sealed letter.
"As you command."
They gave a respectful bow.
And in the next instant, they vanished from the room without a trace, leaving only Sluzea alone beneath the pale moonlight.
Her gaze drifted toward the papers scattered across her desk.