by Pirateaba
The girl had to pause.
“…I suppose [Emperor] or [Empress] might be better. Because there can be only one, you see? A [King] can rule with a [Queen] and even [Princes] and [Princesses] all adding their Skills together. But an [Emperor] can rule over many nations, so only their Skills would affect the entire empire.”
Mrsha began scratching at her side, a clear indication that Lyon was losing her. The girl scowled; but the bacon was nearly done.
“Fine. You don’t like that? Then how about this? This is the secret my parents taught me. Royal classes, rare classes, and special classes—the kind that appear when two classes merge—they’re all better than normal ones. A [Lord] has almost the same Skills as a [General]. He can fight and lead, but he can also empower his estate. A [Blademaster] will have far, far better Skills than any [Warrior]—even a normal [Knight]! And you can get special classes by doing secret things. In fact, a [Princess] can even give someone a unique class.”
The Gnoll stared up at Lyonette, and then flopped over on her back. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and Lyonette sighed. It wasn’t important to Mrsha. It was special to Lyonette, but only because she needed it to be. Why would a Gnoll child care what a [Princess] could do?
“Fine. Let’s eat!”
Bacon and honey-covered bread for breakfast was a sinfully delicious meal. Lyonette ate nearly as fast as Mrsha, although the smaller Gnoll had even less manners than she did. She greedily chewed down the fatty bacon, pausing only to lick her paws clean of grease and honey every now and then.
When breakfast was done, Lyonette found something for Mrsha to do. She’d realized the Gnoll needed a distraction, so she found some parchment and charcoal. The Gnoll sat on the ground, happily drawing while Lyon cleaned the tables and washed the dishes.
She wished she had some of her toys, the ones she’d had back in the palace. The Gnoll deserved some fun. Maybe she could buy something? She had a good amount of coin after Pawn had come by—a lot, in fact. When Olesm came, Lyonette could probably persuade him to go shopping, but would the Drake even know what a Gnoll liked? Perhaps…
Lyonette was scrubbing at a bit of solidified honey on the table when she saw movement. She looked up and realized it wasn’t Mrsha but something else. Cautiously Lyonette moved over and saw the thing move again. She was tempted to grab a frying pan before she investigated, but then memory nudged her and she realized what it had to be.
A white, wriggling larvae, big and fat and sitting in a pool of royal jelly stared blindly up at Lyon while she stared down in disgusted fascination.
The grub! She’d completely forgotten about it! Lyon had intended to give it to Pawn, but it had slipped her mind. Now the grub moved slowly in the white goo surrounding it.
It was still alive, and even fatter than it had been yesterday if her eyes didn’t deceive her. Lyon stared at it in horrified fascination. The grub was ugly as sin, and sightless to boot. Still, Lyonette had the crazy urge to poke at it like Mrsha had done.
Resisting that instinct, Lyon frowned as she considered the liquid in the bowl. It was lower than yesterday as well. Some had evaporated? Or—the larvae had eaten some. It was growing.
Well, that only meant Pawn would like it more when she gave it to him, right? Lyonette decided to make sure the grub survived. That meant adding more royal jelly—she’d heard that was best for bees to grow with.
There were several honeycombs in the jars that she’d cut from the hive. Lyonette could see pockets of the white, jelly-like substance, and tried to fish it out so she could refill the bowl with the larvae in it. To that end she had to reach into the jar full of honey with a clean hand, giggling and shuddering at the odd feeling of so much honey.
She decided to separate as much of the jelly from the honey as she could, in case she needed it later. So Lyonette found another jar and used a wooden spoon to transfer the jelly over. It was a messy and sticky maneuver, and it invariably attracted Mrsha. The Gnoll licked both the royal jelly and honey up as Lyonette tried to fend her off.
“Stop it, Mrsha! Mrsha! You’ve just had breakfast! You’re going to get so fat.”
Which wouldn’t actually be a bad thing. The Gnoll was still thinner than she should be, which is why Lyonette let her lick her palms clean, giggling as the tiny rough tongue greedily lapped up the sticky honey.
The grub wriggled when Lyonette poured the royal jelly over it, but in the end it was nearly covered except for its head again. That done, she placed the bowl nearer to the fire. Not too near—but close enough that the grub wouldn’t freeze during the night.
That was how Lyon spent the first hour of her morning. After that, the door opened and Selys came by. The Drake wasn’t working today, and so she’d come—anxious and worried—to check on Mrsha. The Gnoll was happy to see her since the Drake wasn’t trying to take her away, and she definitely enjoyed the toys Selys had brought.
“I bought these for her. They’re very popular with Gnolls but Mrsha never wanted to play back at my apartment.”
So said Selys as she sat at a table, enjoying some honey and bread and a glass of honeyed water in the warm inn. Lyonette buzzed around the kitchen, making more honey water – she had the idea it would be very popular with the Antinium—and storing it in another jar for later. The inn was full of life, and guests! Not just Mrsha, but Selys had come to visit!
And—surprisingly—Olesm as well. The Drake came by every few days, less and less often since Lyon made him go shopping for her each time, but he arrived not long after Selys, tail wagging with excitement.
“Is Erin—oh.”
He always said that. But he didn’t look as disappointed today. Instead, he happily joined Selys at a table, eating some of her honeyed bread, oblivious to her annoyed look while he waved a sheaf of parchment about, unable to contain his excitement.
“You won’t believe what just happened. I was in the city and Hawk—you know, the Courier—came over with all these letters! One had just been sent, and when he got to Liscor to deliver them, the Runner’s Guild told him there were tons of undelivered letters all addressed to me!”
“Why didn’t the Runners deliver them?”
“Well—oh, thank you. Is…why is this water sweet?”
“It’s honey.”
Lyon explained as Olesm suspiciously tasted the water in the glass with a long tongue.
“Oh! It’s good! You should sell this! Can I have more bread? Selys has run out. Anyways, you won’t believe what happened! When I was sending all my letters out, I misspelled my name! So when I got the replies—they were all addressed to Oresm, not Olesm! I can’t believe no one at the Guild picked up on that mistake!”
Lyonette laughed, but Selys gave Olesm and exasperated look.
“Oresm? By all the Ancestors, how did you manage to misspell your own name when you sent all those letters?”
He hunched over, tail twitching defensively.
“I was excited! And I had good reason—do you know what I sent? Chess games!”
“You mean like the one Erin got? So what?”
Selys remained unimpressed. Olesm rolled his eyes, speaking faster as he tried to explain and convey his enthusiasm to an unreceptive audience.
“I didn’t just send chess puzzles. Don’t you get it? I sent the chess puzzle Erin made—the really hard one—as well as actual games she played! I managed to use the annotation system she taught me—with it you can go through her chess games step by step and see how it played out without needing to be there!”
“So what?”
“So you can recreate chess games across the world! And play them, too! I copied that game she played against all of the Antinium—and the games she played on the magical chessboard! They’re a goldmine for any [Tactician] or [Strategist], don’t you see? It’s been less than a month since I sent out the letters—open messages to major cities, just the nearest ones that I could afford—and I’ve gotten back so many replies!”
Excitedly, he showed the two young
females the letters. Lyonette had to admit, the stationary collection did seem impressive. Selys didn’t understand the significance, but Lyonette could see the quality of the letters was high in some cases, and some had personal sigils or seals. In a political sense, Olesm had suddenly accrued quite a bit of attention.
“Okay, so some [Tacticians] are excited about chess. It’s a popular game. So what?”
“Would you stop saying that?”
“So. What?”
“So—people want me to send them more chess games! I’m talking with the head [Strategist] of one of the Walled Cities, see? He told me the chess puzzle I sent helped him level! And this—the letter that came by Courier actually sent back some money!”
Selys choked on her drink when Olesm showed her the gold coins.
“What? People are sending you money for your stupid chess games?”
“Of course! Don’t you understand? This can help high-level [Strategists] level further! And if we can play chess by mail—I’m already planning on sending more of Erin’s games and more of the chess puzzles she taught me. I just…have to solve some of them.”
Olesm coughed, a bit embarrassed. Lyonette and Selys just stared at him.
“But when I do send them out, I’m not going to just stay on this continent. I’ll pay to have them delivered as a bulk shipment to every major city in the continent! In a few months…just think of the possibilities!”
It was all a bit over Selys’ head, and the female Drake argued with Olesm over the cost of what she called his ‘silly project’, but Lyonette just sat, staring at the pile of letters Olesm so lovingly clutched, heart pounding.
This was big news. If Olesm was right, he might well be able to form a network of his own between [Tacticians]. Lyonette had—grudgingly—been taught history and she knew that this was how organizations like the Adventurer’s Guild, Runner’s Guild, and so on had been created.
She smiled at Olesm. She was happy for him. The Drake smiled back, and then Lyonette told them her big news of the day.
“I’ve got two new classes. [Carer] and [Tactician].”
Gaining new classes in any society was usually cause for congratulations and celebration, depending on the class. It wasn’t as dramatic as when people celebrated hitting their tenth or twentieth level—or the huge parties when people managed to reach Level 30—but Olesm and Selys still made approving sounds.
Olesm was curious about Lyon’s [Tactician] class—he screamed when she told him about playing on the magical chessboard and told her to play him instead, but Selys was more curious about Lyon’s other class.
“[Carer]? Is that really a class?”
Lyonette nodded, stroking Mrsha’s head as the Gnoll played with a wicker ball, rolling it across the floor and leaping after it. It was one of the tolls Selys had brought and Lyonette was glad that it was too big for Mrsha to swallow.
“It is in my ki—my country. On Terandria. People get it for taking care of children, or the elderly.”
It wasn’t exactly a common class, but Lyonette knew some of the older [Lords] and [Ladies] employed people with such classes to help take care of them, just as the [Governess] who had looked after her had been an advanced form of that class.
“Don’t Drakes and Gnolls have a class like that?”
Selys and Olesm shook their heads, looking bemused. Selys scratched at a patch of dry scales on her wrist as she spoke.
“If they’re that old, I suppose we’d entrust them to a relative’s care. But I’ve never heard of anyone getting a class from it. Probably because Drakes don’t see it as a job.”
“And Gnolls always have a role in their tribes, no matter how old they get.”
So, Lyonette’s class wasn’t that useful in Liscor, especially since she was banned from the city. But the girl still welcomed it since it would help her deal with Mrsha, and it seemed to reassure Selys that Lyonette could look after her.
After they’d exchanged gossip and Lyonette had learned that Erin was doing well and Ryoka had gone north for some reason, the three adults sat in the inn while Mrsha played. They were all adults, although Lyonette was younger than Selys and Olesm, and even the oldest among them—Selys—wasn’t more than a few years into her twenties.
The two Drakes argued and sat as Lyonette made more food, bustled around the inn, and chatted with them. That was all she did. Just talked. It was all Lyonette wanted. She talked and played chess with Olesm and wondered whether Pawn would come by today.
She hoped he would.
—-
Pawn had no bacon to wake him up, nor any honey. Instead, he had a meeting with Klbkch as soon as he had eaten the horrible mush in the Soldier’s mess hall. Given the choice, Pawn would have gladly eaten a vat of the grey-green stuff rather than talk to Klbkch.
But surprisingly, today Klbkch had nothing to criticize Pawn for. Rather, the Revalantor went over yesterday’s patrol with Pawn, highlighting the encounters with monsters and giving Pawn…advice.
“Do not engage the Corusdeer herds if at all possible. They are formidable combatants if roused, and the Soldiers will suffer heavy losses if they fight. Likewise, the Rock Crabs should be engaged with caution if it becomes necessary.”
Pawn sat in a chair before Klbkch’s desk, nodding nervously as the other Antinium spoke with him. It was strange.
“Ah, Revalantor Kblkch.”
The other Antinium paused and looked at him. Pawn realized Klbkch’s new form was slightly taller than the Worker’s form, as well as being slimmer.
“Yes?”
“Does this mean that you expect me to patrol around Liscor at a later date? Or are these simply things I should keep in mind in general?”
“Ah.”
Klbkch had very few papers on his desk, but he extracted one now and slid it across the desk to Pawn. The Worker stared down at it in confusion.
“I cannot read this, Revalantor Klbkch.”
Pawn could only read a few words of the local Drake script—enough to get around by, but not to decipher the words on the parchment.
“Of course. My mistake. I will take steps to ensure you and the other Individuals learn both Drake and Gnoll writing. It is not difficult—Erin picked up the word system very quickly as it apparently closely resembles the Human one.”
Klbkch took the parchment back and tapped it with one finger.
“This is a report to Watch Captain Zevara, detailing the monsters you encountered. I submitted it last night after your patrol returned.”
“And did the Watch Captain deem our patrol worthwhile?”
“She did. Although her praise is not the important issue—while on patrol I overheard several citizens expressing relief that our Soldiers were fighting monsters. Apparently they were observed chasing the Corusdeer herd off.”
Pawn hadn’t noticed any observers. He worried that this was an error.
“Oh. Should we have avoided detection?”
Klbkch shook his head.
“No. And in this case, the [Shepherd] was on a distant hilltop. But forcing the Corusdeer herd to seek grazing areas further from Liscor is considered a public boon, especially to travelers on the northern road who fear angering a herd. Moreover, the Shield Spiders you have slain are considered a public nuisance, and so the Soldiers generated goodwill from that as well. It also helps that people are seeing the Soldiers in a non-hostile environment.”
All of this made sense to Pawn in an oblique way. He had intended none of this of course, but so long as Klbkch seemed pleased by the results, Pawn could relax.
“In short, it appears that your patrol has generated goodwill among the citizenry already. That alone is worth continuing your activities. Take twenty Soldiers with you today and this time retrieve trophies from the monsters you slay. I will increase your stipend of funds as well.”
If Pawn had the ability to do so, his eyes would have widened. He bowed his head.
“Thank you, Revalantor Klbkch. I shall…I shall put the money t
o good use.”
“Do so. I will expect you to update me if the Soldiers show any positive effects from these patrols. If not…at least they will improve Antinium relations with the city, which is desirable. You may take a second patrol out at your discretion.”
That was all. Pawn stood up to go, but when he got to the door, Klbkch stopped him.
“Pawn.”
“Yes, Revalantor Klbkch?”
“…Why the paint?”
The Worker considered the question, trying to figure out how to explain it to the one Antinium in the Hive who didn’t understand. Well, one of two if you counted the Queen.
“It is a way of naming the Soldiers without using words, Revalantor Klbkch.”
Klbkch sat up in his chair at once and signaled Pawn to sit back down.
“This is very intriguing. Can all Soldiers be ‘named’ and made Individual?”
“I would not attempt to do so with the Soldiers not under my command. They may become Aberration.”
“I see. But you believe the Soldiers under your command have all become Individual? Really?”
“I cannot say. They cannot speak after all. But I would guess that they are…closer to Individual than they were before by use of the paint.”
“I see.”
Klbkch considered this for a while. Pawn sat at attention until the Revalantor nodded.
“Continue. That is all. We will monitor the Soldiers and your attempts with them before expanding to a larger group. If you notice them leveling or using Skills—”
“I shall report it at once.”
“Good. You are dismissed.”
Pawn left Klbkch’s quarters, feeling elated and relieved at once, which naturally caused giddiness as well. For once he’d done something right! Not just right—something right.
He’d given the Soldiers identity. Pawn went to requisition the coin Klbkch had promised him. The Antinium had a room devoted specifically for funds. Pawn saw a few other Workers withdrawing exact amounts and recording the number on a piece of parchment—some had to pay for supplies or perform other exchanges with the citizens of Liscor.
