There was an auditorium on the first floor of Justin Marius's home, and people often came to hear Justin Marius speak.

A palatial auditorium, the stalls sat six hundred and sixty, and the three boxes on each side just four each, and there was no mezzanine because that would risk blocking the view of the spectacular mural on the gold vaulted ceiling forty feet above the arena.

Sometimes the audience would hear Justin Marius's voice, and sometimes others would speak his words, such as Portia Nero or Angelus Gloriam. The more voices, the stronger the chorus, but they were always Justin's words.

After a hundred speeches in over three years, often with the stalls nearly full, and after the most meticulous planning and orchestration, it all came down to tonight, and tonight the auditorium sat empty.

The only seat that was filled was his own: row D, seat 6, one seat off center, far enough back to blend into the crowd on a normal night while he sat in the audience and listened to his speakers deliver his speech, and he could listen like one of the crowd to his own words.

Justin leaned back in the red seat, red like the blackened bricks of his manor house, and rested his head on the seat back to look up at the ceiling where the solar system had been muralized above the candlelit chandelier that hung from the sun. In Justin's imagination, the planets revolved on their axes and orbited the fiery blaze that was the flaming gold chandelier, and he had more than once entertained the idea of making them revolve for real, but it was of course against his principles to mix magic with art, and more importantly, he had more taste than that.

The artist who had painted this slightly inaccurate representation of the solar system had died long before the rest of us became immortal, but the imaginative use of color and light in the depths of space and the keen, volitional brush strokes and the combination between the newly discovered worlds and the divine mystery in the endless paths of the stars, it all immortalized him. Justin Marius would never forget his name, Benedict Pax, even if the world had gone on without him and learned that moons were not planets but that our planet's three moons orbit it rather than the sun, nor would Justin ever mar the mural's beauty and balance to correct it. 

Besides, Pax had even captured the existence of solar flares. It was incredible.

No one gave enough reverence to the past anymore. Art and culture were dying in the empire's collective mind, replaced by a fascination with magic and its new and exciting innovations, but it was paradoxical. Some hundred years ago oil paintings had been the new thing. Would magic always be the new thing, or one day would it be old and boring?

Justin Marius wanted to be alone, where no one could bother him with the future, but his solitude was broken by his son Leo. The young man stomped in, speaking as he came. "I have updated campaign data." When he got to his father's row, he took the seat next to him. He held out not a paper report but a glass tablet like a slab of mirror that reflected Justin's face for a second before it turned white and printed the writing across its surface. "The numbers look good. Bad news, though. The boss—"

"The Ilan Potestas is alive, the agents of our movement are dead. I know." Examining the words in front of him for another split second, he grimaced, exhaled with force and confessed, "There's no other way. The results aren't good enough."

His son wasn't afraid to ask, "No other way than the murder of an elector?"

Justin stabbed a finger at the writing in front of him. "Not in this state. Too much unpredictability. The boss's death gives us the most probability of victory. All these other voters," his forefinger stabbed down a list of names, "have a high probability of going our way, but not one is so certain as the one hundred percent likelihood that Stephen Potestas, if an elector, votes for Sunyin Aura. Neither Potestas will ever vote for us, so the object of the game is to prevent the Potestas vote going to Exequi Valerian. Valerian is the biggest threat to the takeover now."

Leo was nodding down at the names and annotations. He acquiesced, "With the strategies in play, we need to take the company this year, tonight, or we lose every opportunity and leverage — and if you don't control the law next year you may be in prison by then." He made his way to the point of contention. "My question, however, is if there might be another way."

"There isn't. I tried to convince the boss myself, and others in my employ have delivered my reasoning. The discourses I composed to persuade him were some of my best work. The surrogate who delivered the arguments was convinced of their effectiveness and their ability to appeal to the boss's reason. The surrogate assured me that the boss hates his son Stephen Potestas because the son's immortal life snuffed out his mother's. Ilan doesn't see that his son isn't to blame for that. President Solin was to blame, and we want to undo Solin's work on behalf of every family like Potestas's. Which is most every important family in the empire."

It had been President Solin's fault. Stephen Aurelian was no more to blame than Leo. The course of the Constellation company could still be stopped, halted, and turned around. The sun had changed the pace of its course today and risen early; what clearer portent could there be that Constellation was out of control.

Justin lamented immortality, but he would keep it now that he had paid the price.

"I wish we did have another year," said Leo. "I wish your ascension could have the legitimacy it deserves. We could wait for the world to catch up with you and opinions to change. Take the company without bloodshed."

"No legitimacy comes from such a broken system anyway," said Justin. "I tried to convince them, and I played by the rules, but it didn't yield results. Not for millions of families who want what we want across the empire. All because a mere few dozen chose on behalf of millions, and those are stubborn, selfish, short-sighted minds who can't see what's best for everyone.

"What could be more legitimate than a leader who breaks the rules to prove the flaws exist and replaces them with fair ones. I'll take power, proving the flaws in the system before I fix them. Then you'll see what legitimacy is.

"It's not a constant and it can be changed."

Thank you for reading Stars Rise! Wishing you all well, wherever you are reading this <3