[Poems] Verselets in a World of Mad Dukes and Steam Prophets

[Colin of Ode]

Imagine a world of steam engines and gaslight in which a one-eyed despot rules supreme.

 

It is a world of indentured peons and rusted mules, traveling tinker bands and perspiring fixers bathed in the ruddy glow of furnaces. Merchant ironclads anchor off far-flung ports while rank upon rank of Her Majesty's rifles assemble in faceless obedience. In darkened corners skulk Turing's spies while, ensconced underground, seers break into a kaleidoscope of forbidden futures.

Here, there are dukes (one mad), princelings with dark pasts and kings and queens of wavering allegiance. Overhead, her Highness's fighting aces rule the skies while beneath, her elephantine automatons shake the very ground.

The all-seeing, all-knowing tentacles of the Great Empress reach far and wide. So wide, in fact, that many have despaired of freedom and—at a glance of her one baleful eye—life itself. But there is hope: a tale overheard in the fevered ruminations of a nameless prophet tells of a day when one subject will approach the throne, wrench the cephalopodic scepter from her grasp and end, at long last, her reign of terror. But who?

Characters include:

The Empress

 

Though a hundred flowers bloom,
And a thousand thoughts contend,
A single smirk from her rubied lips
Means ten thousand dreams will end.

[Story Prompt] With the hundredth year of her reign approaching in ten short years, the Empress is rightfully worried. A rival has risen from the South.

Ace

 

The wings who rule the Empress' skies
Like loyal cavalry of old
Fly warbirds that, in craving fuel,
Are filled with peon gold.

Kings

 

Will the lords one day against her join,
And en masse her plots repay?
Or, will they continue as before,
And in lazy splendour waste away?

Queens

 

Among the women of the court,
Were kings' daughters of the land.
And at their arms did fairer queens,
In gold and guile stand.

Jacks

 

Lost and adrift in snuff and in sin,
The joke of the court (to her Highness’ chagrin),
When betrayed by his love, and then by his clan,
The once fallen prince rose a quite different man.

Apostles

 

Long years ago he blazed the trail
Through wastes unknown till then;
And marked with bones of sacred gayals,
A good way for other men.
But those who followed in their arks,
And wore the path more plain,
They gave the road another's mark,
'Til no one knew his name.

Prophets

 

In the Empress' dread of seers is the fact,
That whether sage or raving fool,
It is said they've spied a future world,
In which she no longer rules.

Thanks for reading this small contribution to the world of fantasy fiction. In 2019, I embarked on an adventure, creating the world of Empress. Little did I realize how much polishing of pixel and phrase it would take before I felt satisfied! Please let me know what you think of these little vignettes, and whether you'd like to see more text or art in this setting. I've a folder full! Appreciate it.

[Aethera]

Feedback YES! Worldbuilding is always amazing, and the poems are wonderful snapshots of the roles you're describing! I would love to see you elaborate on this, whether poetry, prose, or other things like adventure hooks you might one day run. Whatever you might wish to post, I look forward to reading!