by Alston Sleet
In the silence of my entry, broken only by the shuffling of those watching, I went to one knee.
“My Empress, I request a boon, that I am given my pardon from my vow. I am a man of the sword and I have no head for ruling”.
The flowery words and the simpering excuse were the words Delana requested. I said them, and they were even true. I was more a swordsman than I would be a ruler. I’ve actually had some training in the use of the sword.
“My husband, you have been fair and strong, you have defended me and this realm from the Kings Madness, returned the Monster Waste to prosperity, I call on you now to travel into the lands of the Dwarves and protect Our interests there.”
Seren’s voice never wavered, her eyes never strayed, but she never looked me in the eye.
I wished them all the best of it, I was done with these people, their plots, and fighting.
Given that they were trying to grasp hold of the new Empire and prepare for cleanup in the newly recovered Wastes, there was very little ceremony involved in the coronation of the Empress. Still, even with my forgoing of titles, I could see the glances, the looks, the questioning if I was just plotting and planning from the shadows.
The day of her coronation hadn’t ended and already whispers of potential alliances had been offered. Plots and plans, intrigue, and violence. I could see the twists and turns of their minds now, I just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.
I found myself missing Mennen and his village and the days of magical road work and architecture that I could have had. I could crush this Kingdom, excuse me -Empire- to dust. I could kill anyone here, I could use force to own it all, but I can’t bring myself to give a damn about any of them and their petty plots. I can’t go back to the village Melcot, I would experience nothing but harassment if I stayed.
I was still too young to be this cynical.
It started to be clear to me the reason that Digitals let humans do basically as they wanted. Why bother? They were short lived, had almost nothing we could want from them except companionship and only that if they could bother to be a companion. I was pulling back from people, isolating myself, but I didn’t hate these people, I just found myself caring very little about their games.
The cleanup of the battle of ‘Immortals and Kings’ took weeks. The very name of the battle was pretentious and the legend of it had grown in the telling. The physical cleanup was short enough, a night or two tops, one of the towers burned when some forces retreated and that had just been blocked off for the time being. But the actual cleanup of the surrounding countryside took longer.
Mercenary forces combined with Baron Felsar’s men had to rush to Baronies and Dukedoms to claim them to stop fleeing forces. Informing Barons and Dukes who hadn’t heard about the Kings death, and describing the new Empire and Empress. I’m sure the sight of the swords, men, and horses helped the nobles see things the way Delana wanted.
I wonder if an Empire for her son was worth the life of her husband?
I was escorted out of the Empire, it wasn’t clear if it was to keep me safe or make sure I kept traveling. I had a horse, a sword, a saddlebag of supplies and another of gold, and a letter of introduction to the Dwarven King Mul’ger. I spent the week traveling to the Dwarves mostly in silence, the few words I spoke to my watchers/travel companions dealt mostly with food and setting up our nightly camp. I spent the entire ride without learning their names and was glad for it. My legend was clear enough, for now, I could spend a time now just relaxing and learning. The stresses of the last few years have made me far more anti-social than I was. Rest, relaxation, no one plotting and planning around me. I think these are what I need.
I hoped the Dwarves would be willing to trade magical mining for lessons in blacksmithing.
I needed to create again and spend some time without violence, I needed to create and not destroy.
Epilogue
The Dwarven Kingdom of Delgarth.
537 years later.
Three months of subtle diplomacy before someone had simply thought to ask where he lived. Three months. Calvis shook his head. His mission had been to locate the man of legend, The Immortal Wizard, the rightful Husband to the First Empress. The Hero of the Wastes. The conqueror of the Kingdom of Loson and slayer of the Mad King.
He was a blacksmith. No, worse, he worked as a smith who did decorative work. He didn’t even own the shop he worked in, it was the property of the Grandmaster Smith for the King and by law, no one but a Dwarf could be the King’s Grandmaster Smith. This man who claimed to be the legend just worked for him, admittedly he did only the work he wanted to and he created only what he wanted, but still, he was a common laborer.
Still, Calvis’s orders were clear. Any possible clue to the whereabouts of the legend was to be followed up on. All possible haste was to be taken, no stone unturned. The last known location of the Rightful Emperor in Exile was heading into the Dwarven Kingdom apparently seeking either gold for his new Empire or a legendary smith for a sword, the stories were unclear at that point.
The smithy was a grand example of it’s kind, smoke stacks high into the air, enchantments on directing the smoke upwards. The large wooden door was open to let air circulate into the mostly stone structure. Enchantments kept the ringing sound to a low note until Calvis had stepped beyond the shimmer of it’s protection.
The sound of the smith’s hammer was a pure high note of impact in a rhythmic pattern. The man working the metal was large and broad, he worked the metal in a constant pattern without faltering. His dark hair cut trim to his head, his eyes looked up to see Calvis but his movements never faltered, his actions as unperturbed as if he was out for an afternoon stroll.
Calvis noted the man was either human or a giant for a Dwarf, so at least that fit the rumor. But the dirt and sweat said this man was of common birth. Broad shoulders, thick arms, hardly matching the songs of the man so fast he fought a duel naked against a sword master and won unharmed.
“Not interested youngster.”
The words came amid the blows of the hammer, the master smiths interest now focused back to his work rather than the newcomer to his forge. Like the dripping of water, the hammer landed its beat perfectly and without change.
Rude, but Calvis knew he had to continue on, he needed to talk to the man before he could return to his inn and on to further searching.
“Excuse me, are you The Immortal Wizard?”
Not a change of expression passed the man’s face as he continued his beating of the metal.
“I said I wasn’t interested youngster,” the smith repeated.
“Your King commands that…” Calvis began.
“Lies.”
The silence of the hammer was now deafening. The metal had cooled and the smith pulled it from the anvil with his tongs holding it to the light. The surface of the metal was formed into animals and plants in a complex relief with intricate knot work for a border, formed by the almost casual hammer blows from the pointed end of the oddly shaped tool.
“Got no King, never bent no knee, I don’t care for it. I don’t rule nor will I be ruled. King here wasn’t like the people of Loson. I made him a deal, he took it and followed the spirit not just the letter of it. Mostly the Dwarves just let me make things, I’ll get bored eventually, maybe when I’ve finally mastered smithing, until then they just let me be. So I’m not interested youngster.”
The man’s words started rough and shaped by the Dwarvish accent, by the end though his words were spoken with the common accent as well as any other man though with some odd way of phrasing things.
“So are you The Immortal Wizard?” Calvis queried, half convinced and half with disbelief.
The stories of The Immortal Wizard and how he rode into the Monster Wastes alone and destroyed the hordes had been a staple for Calvis as he grew up. The ancient had been a man of strength, courage, and wisdom. He had found a Kingdom ruled by madness and had struck down the King and restored order and peace building a gr
and Empire.
His wife had been rescued by him from the hands of villains and their love had been so pure the bard’s had sung songs of it for centuries. Calvis couldn’t reconcile the man in front of him with the man of legend. The vision of his hero and this man just wouldn’t overlap.
“Depends on your point of view, people call me Tall here, started as a joke but I kind of like it.”
The eyes when the man raised them to Calvis burned as hot as the fire behind him. These were eyes which had seen the world and had lived it. This man was ancient. The face was smooth and unlined, younger looking even then his own years, but the eyes. Oh, the eyes, those eyes had seen more, done more, than Calvis ever would.
“I’m not interested in whatever plot or plan which sent you here. I don’t want the Empire. I helped make it, but I didn’t like the people, the culture. I have a few issues with the Dwarfs as well, but I generally like them. If I miss my guess, you are here to find me and try to convince me to save your Empire from some problem, probably so someone else can be the power behind the throne.”
With a small smile, the man noticed the tiny shift of stance that Calvis unconsciously made, a move so small that most wouldn’t notice. This man had practiced to see it through many years of experience and pain.
“Mostly I’m just waiting for the Empire to collapse. I figure that after it’s gone, I might be able to change some of the culture, maybe stop the stupid plotting and intrigue, maybe not. I still need to learn to smith, though, that will come first.”
With that the ancient smith stepped back and removed his metal art from the flames and returned to hammering, Calvis ignored from his world.
To those in my life who helped me during a trying time
To my wife, thank you for always supporting me.
To my mother-in-law, for putting up with my reading out loud.
To my father-in-law, can I call you ‘Da-doo’!?
To my favorite author, P.S. Power, for showing me that effort can be like a superpower.
A special thanks to those from RoyalRoadL who helped me with my first draft
Moderator Vocaloid
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About the Author
Alston Sleet resides in Portland Oregon with his lovely wife, takes care of his disabled mother-in-law, and dodges the antics of his father-in-law. By day he works as a computer programmer focused in the manufacturing industry, creating software to enhance the power of our future robotic overlords.
Since the age of four he has know he always wanted to be a computer programmer. A strange child, who thought that ‘going outside’ was the thing our ancestors fought to over come and ‘why would we want to go back?’
Luckily, the force of ‘no computer’ prevailed for his parents and Alston managed to learn to enjoy the outdoors. Occasionally. When it wasn’t raining in Portland.
Living with his Wife, mother-in-law, father-in-law, dog, two cats, three snakes, and two horses, he works tirelessly to understand how an introvert ended up with so many people who love him around.
If you have comments, questions, insults, or flame wars the author can be contacted at his email:
[email protected]
A Sneak Peek of “A Demon’s Gift”
“Good morning Erin, you currently have nothing on your calendar,” the gentle, almost ethereal voice of my mirror, greeted me as I was preparing to sit at my desk.
I paused half way to my chair. My mage assistant was instructed to tell me what I had planned for the day when I first sat down in the morning. I found it a good way to get ready for the day. I would get a cup of coffee, pull up my chair, and my assistant would tell me all about my plans for the day as I put away my briefcase and pulled out my rune tablet.
“Mirror, I had things on my calendar yesterday evening, who cleared my day?”
I was hoping this was a mistake or someone needed me to run a new apprentice through company enrollment or something else common. A cleared calendar wasn’t a good sign, though. If it had been something benign I probably would have been told something earlier in the week, worse, only someone with higher security would be allowed to reset someone else’s calendar. Today was Friday, ‘companies like to fire people on Friday’ flew through my head though I considered that they usually like to get a full day of work out of people before they did it.
“Office Manager Michael Calmick cleared your calendar at 6:35 pm yesterday, Ma’am.”
Calmick, I couldn’t stand the guy. Spell work by the book, precise in his every action, and one of the worst mages I had ever been forced to work with. The guy could cast spells just fine, but his spell work had no soul. It was all memorized formulas and strict adherence to processes which had worked before. That’s fine if you want to just build something, but part of our job was to streamline, improve, to create.
He was also a sleaze. I didn’t like sexual harassment, no one did, but if I had to put out for my career, I wanted it to move me ahead, not just to keep my job. A job I was good enough on my own merits to have earned thank you very much. I had turned him down twice before, with more than a little hands action by him on the last request. Already a violation of the human resource guidelines, but then I didn’t have a scrying of his actions recorded either so it’s not like I could really report him.
“Miss Weisz? Erin Weisz?”
A jumped sharply in surprise then turned around and frowned when I noticed the security people behind me. Three of them.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Come with us please, Mister Calmick needs to have a word with you in his office,” the large one said as he gestured me towards the office at the end of the open floor plan. I could see the shorter one in the back holding a wand unobtrusively by his side but pointed in my direction. Shortly after walking with the two thugs I glanced back and noticed the third thug was just standing next to my desk and watching me walk away.
It was early, I made a habit of arriving early since I was a morning person. I found myself getting the most work done in that early morning hour before the rest of the floor started to fill up. The off white cubicles barely suppressed the sounds of magicians and spirit assistants. FMI, Fendales Magi-tech Incorporated, was too cheap to spring for sound suppression in the mage section though it was all throughout the display floor, marketing, and sales.
I was unhappy that I took some relief that no one else was going to see me be fired. I had met all my production marks, nothing I had designed was failing, I had even built at least one A+ spell last year which was better than the market leader. I wasn’t the best mage here, but I was far from the worst either. If I had known Calmick was going to push things this far I would have just slept with him. I would have felt disgusting afterward, but it wouldn’t have been the first time I had to do something disgusting to survive.
At least it would have been my choice.
The slow walk to Calmick’s office was torture. I couldn’t see him behind his desk, the one-way spell on his office wide window precluded that, but I could imagine him sitting back in his leather executive chair arms behind his head watching me as I was marched to his door. Calmick’s window said everything that needed to be said about the man and his management style. He could watch you, you couldn’t see if he was watching.
Once we entered his office he smiled his smarmy grin and then he gestured the two thugs out. Sometime since yesterday, he had removed the hard uncomfortable chair which left you with your chin just above the line of the desk. Apparently, his ‘discussion’ chair wasn’t humiliating enough for this, no, he wanted me to stand in front of him like a scolded child.
Calmick leaned forward and smiled, I think he was trying for a sweet tone as he asked, “Do you know why you are here?”
“You’re firing me because I said ‘no’ when you asked me out,” I said, upset that I hadn’t thought to set up some kind of recording spell.
Just last week I had considered putting up a recording spell
that would run non-stop while I was at work, technically against policy, but it’s hard to complain when an employee is caught harassing another. HR would be rung out to dry and a nice fat settlement might come from it. Of course, I would also be blacklisted with every magi-tech fab shop on the West coast.
Calmick slapped his hand on the desk and pointed at me as he exclaimed, “That never happened.”
I smirked a bit, it was all I really had. I was going to make the little prick squirm if I could, I was able to see the color of the writing on the magical writ, it was pink and I was being fired. The only question now was what this asshole was going to say I had done and why he was doing it.
“No, you are being fired because of your non-compete clause,” the smile that spread across his face then would have looked right at home on a shark. All flashing teeth and gums, not so much a smile as a barring of teeth.
“That’s crazy, I’m not working for anyone else,” I protested.
With a theatrical wave of his hand he declared, “During a routine security sweep of your work rune tablet, this was found.”
The spell which formed in the mirror that he swung from its adjustable ceiling mount was complex and deeply interconnected. It had taken me two years of effort, with every trick and tweak I could think of, everything I had learned from every single project we had worked on. It was five percent more efficient than the next closest competitor while also outputting fifteen percent more power, more importantly, the user’s body heat was the main feedstock to the engine.
