by Pirateaba
Something would have to be done. They would have to train the staff, not just those experienced in combat—especially if this was a forecast of things to come.
“Even so, the fact that not one person reported anything unusual happening is telling, isn’t it, Ressa? Our spies are compromised.”
Ressa nodded briefly. That much was as obvious to both women as the moon.
“Some will have been caught off-guard. Others were bribed or threatened. More were traitors to begin with. It will take a great deal of work discovering which is which.”
“However, if this is the Circle of Thorns and not some pretenders…this is very serious, Ressa.”
“I know.”
More people rushed up to the two women. Magnolia listened with one ear while she thought quietly. She stopped one maid, though.
“What was that about an [Assassin]? Was the last one found?”
Ressa nodded.
“Reynold and Safra caught the last one as he was trying to flee. He is dead.”
“Dead?”
Magnolia’s tone was irate. She glared at Ressa, ignoring the [Maid] who fled from her presence.
“Couldn’t you have captured that one alive? I want at least one witness to interrogate. What good are dead bodies to me? I don’t know any [Necromancers]—at least, none that I trust!”
She knew she was being petty, but she was in a bad mood. Ressa clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she responded to her mistress.
“That would have been an unnecessary risk. These killers had unknown Skills and magical items. Killing the escaping one quickly was the correct decision for Reynold and Safra to make and I stand by their decision.”
“You would.”
Magnolia grumbled, but she let the matter drop. She knew it would have probably been pointless anyways—[Assassins] were notorious for dying to protect their client’s secrets. She paused as she heard a voice in her head.
“Magnolia!”
“Oh, Ressa. I hear Teriarch. I’ll have to talk with him.”
Ressa nodded, and stepped away as Magnolia began to speak into the air.
“I’m here, Teriarch.”
The old Dragon’s voice was urgent in her mind.
“Magnolia! I received your signal. Are you—?”
“Fine. There was an attack. Assassins and a mage came to kill me.”
“Assassins? Are you sure you’re safe?”
“I’m fine, old fool.”
Magnolia’s tone was ascerbic, but she relented a bit when she heard the genuine concern in Teeriarch’s ‘voice’. She could almost picture the Dragon anxiously fanning his wings.
“If you think they might be around, I could be there in minutes. A spell or—I could fly!”
“You? Fly all the way here?”
The woman snorted, amused by the idea.
“If you want to come I’d welcome you. But Ressa tells me the place is secure, and she would know. I have my own [Mages] and artifacts who will be able to safeguard me, you know that.”
There was a pause as Teriarch considered Magnolia’s reply.
“If Ressa says so…tell me what happened!”
Briefly, Magnolia related the events to Teriarch.
“Will you come or not? I could use you here.”
She held her breath, but not much. Teriarch’s reply was everything she expected.
“Well…if you’re safe, then I hardly need to go out. Other mages can take care of the rest—but you should get rid of the Golems.”
“I know. But it’s such a waste. I got those for my birthday, you know.”
“Nevertheless. If one mage can seize control of them, they cannot be trusted. You need a better Golem anyways—how often have I told you not to rely on these shoddy animated suits of armor?”
“Oh? And what would you propose?”
Magnolia snapped at the empty air. Teriarch’s voice was arch as he replied.
“Any superior construct would do. A Gemstone Golem would have far more utility as you well know. Ivory Golems are too susceptible to interference via death magic of course, but if you would just buy a Magestone Golem—or even a Truestone Golem—”
“Not even you have a Truestone Construct lying around. And besides, I’m fairly certain those were outlawed in several nations.”
“Hmf. Wistram has one.”
“And she is not for sale. Believe me, I’ve asked and she is definite on that subject. Teriarch, I have work to do. If you aren’t coming—”
“Very well. I will contact you later. But if you need help—”
Magnolia’s voice was soft.
“I know. I will ask. But there’s only so much you can do in that cave.”
She heard no reply. Instead, she sensed the magical connection break. Magnolia turned back to Ressa, and found the woman was waiting for her.
“All done?”
“Things are stable for now.”
“Good. Then find me Ryoka Griffin. I only saw the girl sensibly had her head down after Nemor blasted through the wall. Do you know where she is? Is she hurt?”
Ressa shook her head.
“She is alive and mostly unharmed. At the moment she is helping tend to the wounded.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Magnolia paused.
“Good. There may be some hope for her after all. Take me to her.”
The two began to walk into the mansion. Magnolia sighed as she looked at the injured, but she kept talking to Ressa as they walked.
“It’s begun, Ressa. It’s war, you know that, don’t you?”
“Against the Circle of Thorns?”
“Wherever and whoever they may be. I have an idea of where to start, but—”
“The same problem as before?”
“If my great grandmother’s diary is right, it will be a nightmare. Still, we can’t let them do this again. I think you know what we have to do.”
Ressa waited. Magnolia made a face as she forced herself to say the words out loud.
“I’ll need to gather my flight of attendants. My allies, anyone who can be trusted—do you know where all my attendants are right now?”
“Right where you left them. The Reinhart estate in First Landing.”
“Damn. I hate that place.”
“When should we leave?”
“Tonight. Have Reynold get the coach ready. We can be back soon, but we have to move now.”
“And Ryoka?”
“Well, for the moment…”
—-
An hour ago I was talking about the fate of the world with Magnolia. Now I’m standing in the rubble of her mansion, helping pour healing potions on the wounded.
In fairness, there’s not that much rubble and no longer as many wounded. The wards on the Reinhart estate are sturdy, and Nemor only destroyed one room. But the air still feels tense, electric with fear and anxiety.
And grief. I stand up from tending to what used to be one man’s leg and turn to find Lady Magnolia and Ressa. They stare down at the [Manservant] as he tries to get up and fails.
“Stay there.”
Ressa’s voice is calm and imperious. But she kneels and inspects the man’s stump of a leg with gentle hands. The wound is healed, but his leg is gone. Burnt away. He shudders, but doesn’t cry out like he was doing earlier. He only looks up at Ressa and Lady Magnolia.
“I regret—I’m afraid I won’t be able to wait tables any longer, Miss Ressa.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just rest.”
Ressa lies the man back and more servants come to lift him in a stretcher. I watch them take the man away, and see Ressa’s gaze follow him.
She does care about the other servants. She might act like a general from hell ordering them about, but she cares.
And Magnolia—
I glance at the other woman. Lady Magnolia Reinhart is standing in the corridor, coolly surveying the devastation. People rush around her, and occasionally she’ll direct someone, but
for the most part she just lets Ressa work.
She’s not down there tending to people herself. But she is radiating calm authority like a lighthouse. That’s a type of leadership, and I can see it reassuring the people around her. They look to her.
“Ryoka Griffin.”
Now her eyes find me, and I shudder. I can’t take comfort in her presence. Not after what I saw. I nod to her to cover my unease.
“I saw what happened.”
“Hm. Well, I am relieved to see you weren’t hurt. I was almost afraid you’d jump into the fight.”
No fear of that. I stare at the one-legged man as he disappears down the corridor.
“What will happen to him?”
“Who?”
“The man…with the missing leg. What will happen to him after this?”
Magnolia blinks at me, surprised by my question.
“What do you mean?”
“Will he lose his job? He sounded like he was a waiter.”
“Of course he won’t lose his job! I will find a new one for him that he can fulfill with one leg. That is all that will happen. Why, did you think I would fire him?”
I can only shrug. Magnolia scowls. She seems genuinely annoyed with me.
“No one injured in my employ will ever face losing their job. I do not abandon my people.”
“Oh. Good.”
I turn my back and stare at the people hurrying around me. I can tell Magnolia is eying me balefully from behind.
“I trust you understand this complicates matters.”
“I kind of got that when all the [Assassins] appeared. What was the mage talking about? Who are the Circle of Thorns?”
Magnolia pretends she didn’t hear my question.
“Sadly, I have suddenly become far too busy to hound you on the matter of inventions from your world. I will do so at a later date, but for now I believe I will have to let you go.”
I turn and meet her eyes.
“Do you think I’m an idiot? I know this isn’t over.”
She rolls hers.
“Of course it isn’t. But by all means, attend to your own business. We are allies, so I shall make sure you meet with the best experts in Invrisil. Tomorrow.”
“Experts? What experts?”
Another eye roll. Magnolia points at my side, at the bag of holding I’m carrying and snaps.
“Magical experts, idiot! I know your adventurer friends uncovered some relics. Well, I will have some meet with you. And then, when I am done attending to this—you and I will talk again.”
“Great.”
Magnolia raises an eyebrow, but that’s all I have to say on the matter. She sighs, loudly.
“You are an obnoxious child sometimes, you know that? You remind me of Ressa when she was young.”
Ahead of her, Ressa turns and glares at Magnolia. I do the same. Magnolia waves her hand at the two of us.
“You will sleep here tonight. Ressa will find you a room.”
And so she does. I stay awake long enough to see the mansion slowly settle back into some kind of normalcy—and then I go to the large, extravagantly adorned room that has been allotted to me. I lie on the bed, but I’m still far too awake to asleep.
I can still see the lightning, still see the line of fire engulf Nemor. I don’t know what it means, and I’m almost afraid to find out. But one thing I do know.
The sky is already beginning to brighten. I try to sleep, willing myself to rest for however long I can. I think I’ll need the energy. I’m not done here. Not by far.
Invrisil, the City of Adventurers, awaits.
—-
Day 45
A lot can happen in a day. I mean, that’s a fairly obvious statement, but I find myself surprised, sometimes, at how much can happen.
Forty-five days. That’s how long I’ve been in this world. But although I had a lot of amazing, unforgettable experiences in these forty-five days, the last few have seen the most happen.
Especially three days ago. Three days ago I survived my first avalanche. I coordinated a rescue effort; I touched a dead person, and saved a life. More than one for both counts, if I’m honest.
But I choose to remember the living. And I have to keep moving forwards rather than dwell on the past; a lot more rests on my shoulders, now.
It’s a bit…ironic. A few days ago Durene and I were effectively outcasts living on the edge of Riverfarm, barely tolerated for who we were. Well, Durene was barely tolerated; I was more popular. But we were both shunned for our relationship.
And now? Now our little cottage is our hideaway from the rest of the world. At least if we stay there we can sleep in peace.
In three days, I went from being a blind man with an unhealthy obsession with half-Trolls in the eyes of the village to being an [Emperor]. Of course, I was always an [Emperor], but they didn’t know that.
They do now. True, I didn’t exactly advertise the fact, but everyone heard me when I first took control of the village. And word spreads fast.
How would you react to having an Emperor in your village? I’d imagine normally there would be a lot of questions and maybe even suspicion or hostility.
But in this case? There’s none. The villagers saw me running from spot to spot, finding people trapped in the snow. That earns you a lot of trust, not to mention gratitude. I am an [Emperor], and the villagers treat me as such.
Which brings me on to the downside of my current living situation: I’m an [Emperor]. And Riverfarm is now technically under my dominion.
Which, defacto, makes me their ruler. Which also makes me responsible for them. And makes them subservient to me.
And boy, do they take that role seriously.
“Are they still outside, Durene?”
I hear her rustle as she sits up and looks at the window.
“I think Gamel’s still out there.”
“Still?”
Or should I say, ‘already’? I frown as I sit up in bed next to Durene. It’s barely past dawn, and there’s someone out there?
“Did he camp out here?”
“I think so. He’s got a fire and everything.”
“We should have invited him in. Not that there’s space, but…”
I mutter to myself as I put on pants and a shirt and coat. I try to stay low; one of the downsides to being blind is that you can’t really tell where windows are or if doors are open. It means I’m somewhat paranoid about flashing someone by mistake.
“Why is he even out there? I told them I’d be back as soon as I woke up today.”
“I think they’re wanted to have someone here in case you needed anything.”
Durene answers cautiously as she readies some tea and rekindles the fire. She knows how I feel about suddenly being the ruler of Riverfarm, but I can tell from her voice that she’s pleased.
And can I blame her? She used to be the village laborer, the barely-tolerated half-monster girl. And now she’s the consort of an [Emperor], or my personal servant, or whatever. The point is that even though our relationship isn’t a secret, no one’s throwing rocks at Durene, and everyone treats her with almost as much deference as they treat me.
Part of that might also be her class. Durene is a Level 6 [Paladin] now. She gained the levels from helping save people and working to help the village. True, she didn’t slay monsters, but her doing good deeds fits with the idea of a [Paladin] in modern culture. And for her efforts, she gained not one, but two Skills.
[Weapon Proficiency: Shield] and [Graceful Step]. Now, the first Skill makes sense to me. It sounds like a classic feat out of any fantasy roleplaying game, but [Graceful Step]? Apparently, it allows Durene to move, well, gracefully. If I put it bluntly, she no longer sounds like an earthquake when she moves around her cottage, and she can even sneak up on me now!
It’s quite incredible to me, but it’s also odd. I mean, why would moving silently, or rather, gracefully, be that important to a [Paladin]? Is it because the class is taking from the original id
ea of a paladin being a member of Charlemange’s court and being considered dignified characters? Or is it more broadly taken from the fact that paladins are supposed to be champions of justice, respected characters in the eyes of the many?
Perhaps there’s another set of guidelines I don’t know about entirely. All I do know is that Durene—
Squark.
I wince and hear Durene’s surprised exclamation.
“Oh good. Frostwing’s awake.”
Indeed, the noisy eaglet has awoken, and upon finding both Durene and I are awake, is stridently, nay, angrily demanding we feed her breakfast. I scowl as I find the bowl of half-frozen food by the kitchen counter and shove it at the bird.
“Eat, you ungrateful fowl. Stop complaining—I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
Happily, Frostwing does just that. She’s gotten even bigger than she was three days ago, and now she can peck at the food herself. I can even feel a few feathers coming in, although I’ve been too preoccupied with the village to attend to her as much as I’d like.
Speaking of which—
As Durene puts some butter in the pan and I delight at hearing it sizzle, I open the door and walk out to Gamel. I know the young man—he’s been following me and Durene around since the day of the avalanche. And I can even ‘see’ him in my mind—he’s camped right at the boundary of where Durene’s cottage ends.
“Emperor Laken, sir!”
I hear his excited voice as I crunch through the snow. I make a face and stop before I’m too close to him.
“I told you, Mister Laken is fine.”
I’d prefer to do away with even that, to be honest. But the villagers insist on calling me something. And that’s way better than ‘Emperor’.
“I’m sorry, Mister Laken.”
He sounds chastened. I sigh.
“Never mind that. Durene and I were about to have breakfast. Can I invite you in?”
“I couldn’t do that!”
He sounds horrified. I sigh again, but I knew Gamel would probably say that.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes sir. I’ve got some porridge and even some smoked bacon right here, sir. A feast!”
