Questers
05-04-2007, 21:10
Highmount Palace
The man stepped out the tinted SUV as it rolled into the Imperial Palace, having travelled up kilometres of the rocky mountain above London, past old Shinto temples and monks of both religions, Protestant and Shinto, praying for their King-Emperor. For the King Emperor was dying and there was not alot that could be done. This man that had just arrived at Highmount Palace was Prince Konoye, the Heir to the throne of the Crown Imperium who's Empire and Commonwealth contained more than 25 billion souls from almost a dozen countries, mostly located in Haven, though spread out across the world. Konoye blew gently and watched the puffs of vapour escape from his mouth and evaporate into the atmosphere. This was something he had loved about nature even as a child, when the weight of Imperial responsibility was not yet on his shoulders. He sighed, pushed the nostalgia aside, and, entering the Palace, waited as the servants scurried to and took his coat and hat. He folded up his gloves, which cost probably more than most of the nations people earned in a week, and slipped them inside his suit.
Konoye slipped upstairs. He had been away for a long time but he didn't forget the path upstairs to his fathers bedroom, the room where the King Emperor resided over his Nation and Empire. When he reached the majestic oak double doors, he sighed for a moment and then swung them open. Inside near the raging fire that held off the hordes of the freezing night where a number of the Imperial Family - the Queen, Queen Alice, Richard VI's three sons Adam, Roger, and Ozawa, his daughters Catherine and Saori - the closest immediate relatives to the King-Emperor, where gathered. Konoye closed the door and took a seat with the rest of the family around the mammoth bed - the true meaning of the King sized bed, Richard VI's sleeping quarters were perhaps the nicest in the nation and maybe even the world, as some say the King spent more time in bed than he did anything else, apart from drinking and gambling.
"How are you father?" Konoye asked, looking concerned. The King coughed. Years of mistreatement of his body had taken its toll - the King took up smoking, both cigars, cigarettes, pipes - and later cannabis, when he was merely fifteen, and began to drink heavily several years later. By his early twenties he was participating in the Questarian royal tradition of smoking opium and other exotic narcotics. Neither did he eat well. The King-Emperor believed, like most other Questarians, that a balanced diet was the work of the devil, and it was the duty of a man to consume as much meat as possible. He was rather partial to salted pork, and perhaps had eaten far too much of it, given his cholesterol. All of these, and the growing stress of ruling a nation as influential as Questers, had taken their toll on the King, and at the age of 58, he was ready to depart.
"I'm fine, damnit. I don't need any bloody witch doctors around here. Especially not the women. Women can't be bloody docto-"
He coughed violently and the Queen-Empress came to his side and calmed him down. "You musn't excite yourself dear..."
Richard leant back in his bed, satisfied that he had defied the devil once more, and closed his eyes. The family sat in silence.
"How is the Naval College Ozawa?" Konoye asked. The youngest, Ozawa, at eighteen, had just joined the Imperial Naval Officers College, one of the greatest naval universities in the country and the world. It was where alot of aristocrats, politicians, and Royals sent their children. The others would send theirs to study law, business, or politics.
"It's pleasant enough." Ozawa replied, not managing a smile, which was acceptable under the circumstances.
Konoye nodded. "And you, Roger? I heard you were sent to Kure Business." Kure Business University was the leading University to achieve degrees in various business related topics such as economics and business. If he didn't become a politician of some sorts, Roger woud probably be an advisor in some part of the gigantic Imperial chain, perhaps even to Konoye.
"It's fine, brother." Roger too was quiet. The occasion did not call for any joy and none was given.
Konoye looked to Adam. "And of you, brother?" Adam was the oldest at thirty and he was already married and lived an area of the country known as the Middle South in a large summer house with his wife.
"Everything is going well. I can't really ask for more." Adam shrugged.
"And what about you Konoye?" his mother, the Alice, asked.
"Just returned from my second Navy Comission." Konoye said. "I was commanding the Shirasuke when I was told to come here."
"Following in his fathers footsteps." The King murmured, smiling.
"Yes, father." Konoye said solemnly.
"And what about you sister Catherine? Are you not married yet?"
"Funny you should mention it. I'm due to be married this autumn."
"Oh really?" Konoye raised an eyebrow. "Who to?"
"None less than the Zukaarian Kaiser!"
"Excellent." Konoye replied. "I'm sure your marriage will be long and prosperous sister."
"I sure hope so." she replied.
"And what about you little Saori?"
Konoye was Saori's favourite brother. He had always looked out for her and she treated him like both a best friend and a brother. As the youngest, it was traditional for the oldest Konoye to look after her.
She smiled. She was the only one in the room who had managed to keep a face anything less than depressed and her nickname, the "Happy Princess" was indede true. Saori had anything a teenage girl could want, but she wasn't spoiled - the disciplined nature of her father put a stop to that. Besides being a disciplined race, if there was one thing that Questarians instilled in their children it was discipline, alongside respect and understanding of tradition.
"I'm doing great, brother. I'm learning to ride and i'm learning drawing room manners, from mother and her friends of course. I want to learn how to shoot but father won’t let me.” She pouted and the King coughed again. He was going to say something but then Queen Alice calmed him.
“Konoye, my son.” Richard managed to utter some words – he was almost gone, and whatever the doctors had done in hospital days ago had evidently not worked. Not even the most expensive medicines and highest technology, and the best doctoring team ever assembled in the world, shipped in from countries like Praetonia and Allanea and Doomingsland, could save him. Tens of millions had been spent on the King. But it was to no avail.
“Yes father?” Konoye moved closer as Richard signalled him.
”My time is almost over. I can feel it.” He coughed again, and Alice once more moved to comfort him but he pushed her off. “Away, woman!” He coughed again and through barely open eyes looked at his first born son, who was looking back at him ever stoically.
“Promise me to rule this nation as I did. Promise me to rule it fairly, and promise me one more thing Konoye.”
”Of course Father.”
”Don’t let the reds win.”
“Yes father.” Konoye’s jaw tightened as he replied and he could feel the tears behind his eyes. He let one slip.
Richard smiled slowly and closed his eyes for the last time, slumping back. He had given the devil the finger for fifty five years and that was enough.
Outside the monks prayed and the rain fell faster. A crack of lightning across the sky signified the storm was in full pace and communications with London wouldn’t be manageable tonight, not even by helicopter. At 13:34 the reign of King-Emperor Richard VI, Defender of the Faith, Custodian of the Questarian Empire, High Lord of the Admiralty, First Field Marshall of the Army, Guardian of Liberty, died of natural causes. All major newspapers reported the Kings last words as ”Don’t let the reds win.”
The man stepped out the tinted SUV as it rolled into the Imperial Palace, having travelled up kilometres of the rocky mountain above London, past old Shinto temples and monks of both religions, Protestant and Shinto, praying for their King-Emperor. For the King Emperor was dying and there was not alot that could be done. This man that had just arrived at Highmount Palace was Prince Konoye, the Heir to the throne of the Crown Imperium who's Empire and Commonwealth contained more than 25 billion souls from almost a dozen countries, mostly located in Haven, though spread out across the world. Konoye blew gently and watched the puffs of vapour escape from his mouth and evaporate into the atmosphere. This was something he had loved about nature even as a child, when the weight of Imperial responsibility was not yet on his shoulders. He sighed, pushed the nostalgia aside, and, entering the Palace, waited as the servants scurried to and took his coat and hat. He folded up his gloves, which cost probably more than most of the nations people earned in a week, and slipped them inside his suit.
Konoye slipped upstairs. He had been away for a long time but he didn't forget the path upstairs to his fathers bedroom, the room where the King Emperor resided over his Nation and Empire. When he reached the majestic oak double doors, he sighed for a moment and then swung them open. Inside near the raging fire that held off the hordes of the freezing night where a number of the Imperial Family - the Queen, Queen Alice, Richard VI's three sons Adam, Roger, and Ozawa, his daughters Catherine and Saori - the closest immediate relatives to the King-Emperor, where gathered. Konoye closed the door and took a seat with the rest of the family around the mammoth bed - the true meaning of the King sized bed, Richard VI's sleeping quarters were perhaps the nicest in the nation and maybe even the world, as some say the King spent more time in bed than he did anything else, apart from drinking and gambling.
"How are you father?" Konoye asked, looking concerned. The King coughed. Years of mistreatement of his body had taken its toll - the King took up smoking, both cigars, cigarettes, pipes - and later cannabis, when he was merely fifteen, and began to drink heavily several years later. By his early twenties he was participating in the Questarian royal tradition of smoking opium and other exotic narcotics. Neither did he eat well. The King-Emperor believed, like most other Questarians, that a balanced diet was the work of the devil, and it was the duty of a man to consume as much meat as possible. He was rather partial to salted pork, and perhaps had eaten far too much of it, given his cholesterol. All of these, and the growing stress of ruling a nation as influential as Questers, had taken their toll on the King, and at the age of 58, he was ready to depart.
"I'm fine, damnit. I don't need any bloody witch doctors around here. Especially not the women. Women can't be bloody docto-"
He coughed violently and the Queen-Empress came to his side and calmed him down. "You musn't excite yourself dear..."
Richard leant back in his bed, satisfied that he had defied the devil once more, and closed his eyes. The family sat in silence.
"How is the Naval College Ozawa?" Konoye asked. The youngest, Ozawa, at eighteen, had just joined the Imperial Naval Officers College, one of the greatest naval universities in the country and the world. It was where alot of aristocrats, politicians, and Royals sent their children. The others would send theirs to study law, business, or politics.
"It's pleasant enough." Ozawa replied, not managing a smile, which was acceptable under the circumstances.
Konoye nodded. "And you, Roger? I heard you were sent to Kure Business." Kure Business University was the leading University to achieve degrees in various business related topics such as economics and business. If he didn't become a politician of some sorts, Roger woud probably be an advisor in some part of the gigantic Imperial chain, perhaps even to Konoye.
"It's fine, brother." Roger too was quiet. The occasion did not call for any joy and none was given.
Konoye looked to Adam. "And of you, brother?" Adam was the oldest at thirty and he was already married and lived an area of the country known as the Middle South in a large summer house with his wife.
"Everything is going well. I can't really ask for more." Adam shrugged.
"And what about you Konoye?" his mother, the Alice, asked.
"Just returned from my second Navy Comission." Konoye said. "I was commanding the Shirasuke when I was told to come here."
"Following in his fathers footsteps." The King murmured, smiling.
"Yes, father." Konoye said solemnly.
"And what about you sister Catherine? Are you not married yet?"
"Funny you should mention it. I'm due to be married this autumn."
"Oh really?" Konoye raised an eyebrow. "Who to?"
"None less than the Zukaarian Kaiser!"
"Excellent." Konoye replied. "I'm sure your marriage will be long and prosperous sister."
"I sure hope so." she replied.
"And what about you little Saori?"
Konoye was Saori's favourite brother. He had always looked out for her and she treated him like both a best friend and a brother. As the youngest, it was traditional for the oldest Konoye to look after her.
She smiled. She was the only one in the room who had managed to keep a face anything less than depressed and her nickname, the "Happy Princess" was indede true. Saori had anything a teenage girl could want, but she wasn't spoiled - the disciplined nature of her father put a stop to that. Besides being a disciplined race, if there was one thing that Questarians instilled in their children it was discipline, alongside respect and understanding of tradition.
"I'm doing great, brother. I'm learning to ride and i'm learning drawing room manners, from mother and her friends of course. I want to learn how to shoot but father won’t let me.” She pouted and the King coughed again. He was going to say something but then Queen Alice calmed him.
“Konoye, my son.” Richard managed to utter some words – he was almost gone, and whatever the doctors had done in hospital days ago had evidently not worked. Not even the most expensive medicines and highest technology, and the best doctoring team ever assembled in the world, shipped in from countries like Praetonia and Allanea and Doomingsland, could save him. Tens of millions had been spent on the King. But it was to no avail.
“Yes father?” Konoye moved closer as Richard signalled him.
”My time is almost over. I can feel it.” He coughed again, and Alice once more moved to comfort him but he pushed her off. “Away, woman!” He coughed again and through barely open eyes looked at his first born son, who was looking back at him ever stoically.
“Promise me to rule this nation as I did. Promise me to rule it fairly, and promise me one more thing Konoye.”
”Of course Father.”
”Don’t let the reds win.”
“Yes father.” Konoye’s jaw tightened as he replied and he could feel the tears behind his eyes. He let one slip.
Richard smiled slowly and closed his eyes for the last time, slumping back. He had given the devil the finger for fifty five years and that was enough.
Outside the monks prayed and the rain fell faster. A crack of lightning across the sky signified the storm was in full pace and communications with London wouldn’t be manageable tonight, not even by helicopter. At 13:34 the reign of King-Emperor Richard VI, Defender of the Faith, Custodian of the Questarian Empire, High Lord of the Admiralty, First Field Marshall of the Army, Guardian of Liberty, died of natural causes. All major newspapers reported the Kings last words as ”Don’t let the reds win.”