Felipe stood at the mouth of his Dragon Palace, looking over his city. A multitude of golden-armored knights gathered around him, like gilding to his own black armor. His long, black hair flowed down his back like a cloak, a patch of gray atop his head. His beard showed yet more gray hair… yet his stony eyes were alert, sharp, unburdened by the ravages of age.

Myriad voices bubbled around him. People pushed past his knights, offering letters or speaking reports… some diplomat had been exposed for accepting bribes, some noble secretly harbored rebellious ambitions, the replacement steward was working for House Parbon… and back within the palace, Felipe heard distant screaming.

“Jezuit,” Felipe said loudly.

“Your Majesty,” a knight at his side answered, bowing his head in deference. His golden helm bore a dragon crest just above its visor—a recognizable symbol of authority that marked him as the knight commander.

Felipe reached to his side and drew his blade. “Choose your best men—fifty, as many spellcasters as you can. Form around me. Push aside any who approach; diplomats, nobility, it doesn’t matter. The rest… send them to quell the chaos.”

“Of course, your majesty,” the knight responded at once. “Yet if I may offer counsel, we must screen—”

“The name of the Bat inspires near as much fear as mine. All of this… death throes. It is a sign Levin has not disappointed. I have to be there, personally—I cannot leave this task to another to muck it up. And Jezuit…” Felipe turned his gaze down, finally, looking upon the knight-commander. “Do not forget I served as knight-commander beneath my father before you took the position. My orders are absolute, and not to be questioned unduly.”

The knight-commander pounded his fist against his breastplate and lowered his head. “Your Majesty. At once,” he said, voice betraying no offense.

Jezuit went off, barking orders. The royal knights, though tightly packed, rearranged themselves as efficiently as a well-oiled machine. Only one remained near Felipe’s side—a small man, bearing a helmet that was far too large for his head. He held it up to the king.

Felipe took the helm and put it over his head. His helm was made in the image of a cobra. Though its base was a functional great helm, black metal concealed the hard steel beneath it, and a cobra’s face seemed to supplant his own. Its mouth seemed designed in imitation of a demon’s, though, for it possessed far too many teeth and an aspect of terror beyond that of a mere snake.

Before a minute could pass, a guard of the best of the royal knights surrounded Felipe, and Jezuit bowed to inform the king. Just then… a great fire roared to life in the furthest point of the city walls. Felipe adjusted his helmet to block its light.

“The Bat squirms beneath my boot. March!” Felipe shouted, voice echoing.

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