Nolien stiffened and seemed to shrink under her words. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You are the team's healer, correct?”
The tension lifted and he replied again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good. It would be embarrassing for both of us if you weren't. The Royal's Healer's assistant is absent today and so he needs you to fill in. Can I depend on you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Mr. Watley. Your mission I must discuss in private.”
An adviser stepped forward. “Your Majesty, I must object to this! Alone with a mercenary –”
“That defended the Crown.” She turned her face in his direction and her eyes narrowed into silts of fire. “I hope you are not implying something about Mr. Watley's character.”
The man paled and kowtowed. “No... Your Majesty.”
“Good.” Her eyes returned to normal. “I'm glad my adviser is showing respect for guests.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” The human returned to his place in the entourage.
Kasile arose from her throne and beckoned Eric, who arose from his kneel and followed her into a private chamber. Two guards closed the door behind them and the instant she was out of sight, she clutched Eric. It wasn't a welcome-back hug. She buried her face in his neck, exhaled, and tension evaporated by the bucket. It was a needy hug. All her royal dignity was gone; she was just a girl that that needed a hug. Eric held her as long as she wanted. Her body was warm against his own, very warm. Being queen must be harder than she thought.
Sometime later, she withdrew but still stood close to him and she didn't look nearly so imposing up close. Her neck strained to hold up the ancestral crown. With all the metal and gems, it had to weigh several pounds. Instead of magnificent, her gown appeared tight and heavy. Her previous burrowing had smudged her make-up and Eric saw shadows under her eyes.
“I missed you too, Kas.” She smacked him upside the head. “Hey! What was that for!?”
She put her hands on her hips and scowled. “You missed my coronation! The biggest day of my life and my best friend didn't show up!” Her golden eyes filled with tears. “My dad was killed, my boyfriend betrayed me, and you...” She wiped them on her extremely expensive gloves. “How do you think that made me feel!?”
Eric took her in his arms again and apologized. She alternated between hugging and hitting him while crying in his chest. Sometime later, she withdrew again. By now, her face was a mess and Eric bit his lip.
“Oh, go ahead! You're the only one I'd allow to, so you might as well.”
Eric did, and with relish. While he did, she pulled out a napkin to clear the smeared make-up. When she was finished and he caught his breath, the two friends sat next to each other on a couch and caught up while snacking.
Kasile was eager to hear what he did while he was away and to hear more about the strange world in which he lived. In particular, she was curious what living in a dry world was like for a mage. This, she said, would be crucial in a hypothetical debate concerning mana mutation. She was thrilled that he had more than his own subjective opinion.
Eric introduced his experiment, Preserving Mana in Desperate Circumstances. It was a record of his daily mana levels based on meditations every morning, compared to a second chart of the mana he found in his waste. A third chart estimated how much mana he regained by consuming said waste. Kasile said she would give it to the royal publisher. She also said it would help counter an argument in the coming Mana Mutation Summit.
“What about you? What's it like being queen?”
Kasile instinctively held her head high. “It is a great and heavy responsibility, but I will uphold it proudly for the sake of the nation.”
“Kas,” Eric pointed to himself, “it's me.”
Kasile giggled. “Oops, sorry…It's harder than I thought it would be. I knew ruling would be a juggling act, but I didn't truly understand what that meant. I only have so many resources and because of Selen, I have few senior officials left to make good use of them. Then there's the flatterers I inherited along with my crown. They're so fake I feel like clubbing them.”
“But you don't.”
“Of course not. Too many witnesses and sometimes they're funny. The backseat monarchs are worse. People that supported my ideals when I was a princess are now trying to steer me away from following them now that I am queen. They act like I don't know they're doing it! It's demeaning!” She gave Eric a smile. “I'm glad you're back. There's no one else I can talk with like this.”
She trusted no one but him. Revealing her insecurity was the cement of their friendship. Fresh off a coup and her father's funeral, she had to run a nation surrounded by sycophants and leeches; that could make anyone paranoid. She would only get worse and her best friend was a world away.
Are those shadows...that tension...Because I was gone?
“What about Culmus?”
Kasile sighed. “He's a wonderful listener, but I'm supposed to be looking for a consort and, as a mercenary, he doesn't qualify. If I spend too much time with him, rumors will spread.”
“What about Siron? He used to be your boyfriend and he's a landed duke...What happened?”
Kasile blushed, for once looking like a mundane girl with boy problems.
“We were never really officially dating...looking for the best match and all...but everyone knew about it. We were childhood friends and he was so dashing. Then the Stratos Tragedy drove Culmus here... He was so pitiful...I thought they could be friends…it....didn't work out like I wanted...”
Eric's grin would make a trickster proud. “In other words, Her Royal Majestic Stoicism wanted a knight harem.”
Kasile blushed so hot she ignited a nearby flowerpot. “It wasn't like that! Really!”
Eric nodded indulgently. “Uh-huh.”
“An-nywayy, he's a boy with a traitorous father. He has to redeem his family name before we can even be friends again.”
“Then what's he doing here now?”
Kasile grinned and Eric smiled. He knew that look. It was the “I'm breaking the rules and no one can doing anything about it” look. “I told my court that Siron would 'prove his devotion by waiting on me as a servant.' He will remain here until I can assure him that he has my forgiveness.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Does he?”
“I'm mad; make no mistake about that. However, if not for his father's scheme…” Kasile locked eyes with Eric. “I wouldn't have this.”
Fear ravaged Eric's mind and hatred filled his soul. Together, they became a fire that burned all of his thoughts. He stared catatonically at the young queen until she blinked. He shuddered and wiped sweat from his brow.
“Evil Eye...Do you want my congratulations or condolences?”
“Both will do.”
Eric spun out of his chair and drew himself up with a hammy flourish. “Then allow me, Your Fiery Majesty, to offer my most heartfelt congratulations on your dreadful misfortune.” He finished with a pompous bow that led into a somersault and landed back on his feet with another flourish.
Kasile giggled. “Beware Poe's Law, my friend. If not for the somersault, I'd think that was real.” Her smile faded. “I wish we could continue, but if I delay too much longer, my court will become suspicious. Your mission is with the Royal Archivist; he needs the Selen Betrayal from your perspective to complete his records. “
“You mean talk about how useless I was and that my only contribution was to negate the result of my own stupidity.”
“That event was pivotal not only in my ascension, but important to world history as well. The people need to know that Dengel was involved.”
“No, they don’t.”
Eric snapped his fingers and wrapped himself in a Dark Veil. A second later, he realized he’d unwittingly mimicked one of Tasio’s favorite gestures. Despite this, he walked invisibly to the door.
“Please, Eric, do it for me.”
Her voice, so soft and pleading, held him tighter than sh
ackles. He decloaked and said, “Alright, Kas, but only because it's you asking.”
Mentally, he winced. There was another unintentional mimicry of The Trickster.
“Thanks.” She pulled out her smart scry and sent a message to the Royal Archivist. “Afterward, you can explain your connection to Dakol.”
“I don’t understand it either. I just have better than average affinity for darkness spells. It’s nothing special, right?”
Kasile wrinkled her nose. “Oh, Ancestor, no ...The last time someone had ‘better affinity than average for darkness spells,’ there was a localized eclipse. Ataidar was blanketed in darkness for a month; riots everywhere. The Trickster thought it was hilarious.”
“That's it! I'm going to the library and spending another nine days there!”
Eric pushed the door open and slipped on the greased hallway floor. He yelped and fell flat on his back. A petite and feminine giggle reached his ears. It wasn't Kasile, but a slender and golden-haired maid kneeling two feet away. She looked away from him and busied herself polishing the floor. All his anger vanished at the sight of his friend and a different feeling took its place.
“Annala...is...are you...”
“You prefer maiden me over the posh princess?” Annala asked. She turned to face him and Eric's anger returned. “Eric, I'm flattered,” Tasio said with Annala's voice.
Red with anger and embarrassment, Eric shouted gibberish and threw mana bolts at The Trickster. He had his giggle fit and disappeared.
“The rumors were true!” an elderly human man said in awe. He was standing in a doorway at the near end of the hallway.
“You are the Trickster's Choice! I thought he was leading me into a trap when he promised something ground-breaking, but –” He walked through, his leg tripped a wire, and an egg fell on his head. His hands clenched as the yoke slid down his forehead and off his chin. He ignored both it and the peal of laughter that followed. Instead, he extended his hand to Eric.
“Mr. Watley, I presume?”
Eric accepted it. “Yes, you must be the Royal Archivist.”
The gentleman shook his hand once and let go. “Yes, Henry Pupil Senior at Her Majesty's service. She requires your insight for the national records.” He looked over Eric's shoulder. “Where is she, by the way? She said she was with you.”
The room was empty. I suppose she didn't want anyone to see her without make-up. With a straight face, he told the gentleman that Her Majesty was tending to a “messy” issue involving the royal painters and needed to fix it immediately.
Henry nodded his understanding. “We have much to discuss.” He led Eric back through the room he came in from and continued, “I've wanted to meet a Trickster's Choice for eons. Their lives are never dull and immortals can always use excitement.”
Eric stopped. The man looked old, but he didn’t look nearly old enough to talk about “eons.” He looked like he should be someone’s grandfather, not the founder of the family line.
“You're immortal too?”
Henry stopped. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“My guild's archivist is also immortal. Do you guys spend so much time recording history you become part of it?”
Henry shrugged. “Something like that...”
Then he launched into a lecture about a random time period in a random place and continued talking like this for the rest of the walk. Apparently, immortals don't need to breathe...He stopped at one of the many doors in the middle of the castle – the “clerk zone” – and opened the door.
Inside was a replica of the Dragon's Lair Archives: bookshelves to the ceiling on every wall and the requirements of life (food, water, toilet, etc.) isolated to one corner. This one, however, was less “endless hallway” and more “endless tower.” The circle of books spiraled so high he couldn't see the top. It must be that tall one I saw...I thought it was a second dungeon.
Here the age of the castle could be felt more than anywhere else. The masonry was old and the stones were cracked in places. Only torches and a high window provided light. A quill and a dish of ink sat on the desk next to an oil lamp. No matter where Eric looked, he couldn't see any sign of the modern age in this man's office.
“Surprised? This room has not changed since Dengel stood in it.” His mouth quirked up. “In fact, he stood where you are standing now.”
Eric scowled. “Is that another 'you are Dengel' shot?”
“You are young, you are a student of magic, you live in the shadow of previous mages, and you have The Trickster's attention...Yes, I'd say you are very much like Dengel.”
Eric's scowl softened as curiosity took over. “Dengel was the Trickster's Choice too?”
Henry picked up a book and examined it. “Traditionally, everyone with Low Mana Inhibition is said to have The Trickster's favor.”
“Low Mana Inhibition...” Eric fidgeted as he tried to remember. “Oh yeah! That's when a soul is unable to regulate the mana it draws from the Eleven Mana Gates.”
Henry smiled mysteriously. “Your nine-day library stay continues to prove useful.”
Eric’s eyes showed shock. “You know about that!?”
Henry looked over his glasses at the boy. “You are an Otherworlder. Those are also candidates for Trickster's Choice and the last time we had one of those, it tried to take over the world.” He handed Eric the book. “I believe Commander Radic told you that on your first day here.”
The book was titled “Otherworlder Log Number 349: Eric Watley.” It began with Redstreak's description of him in the Rose Forest, through his time at the public school, and then his employment in the Dragon's Lair and his activities in Kyraa. The only thing that wasn’t recoded was his trial underneath the Altar of Rebirth.
“This is creepy.”
“We call it being careful. Not only are you favored by The Trickster, but Dakol as well.”
“You’re the third person that’s said that and I don’t believe it.”
Henry took the book from him, skipped to the end, and read, “10:00 AM to 7:00 AM Shaliday 17 Firos 2000 AA: a living shadow appeared in Mr. Watley's cell and cast tendrils into him. The energy signature matched that of Dakol, Avatar of the Grand Elemental Sentience Darkness. Upon writing this sentence, a second shadow appeared at this observer's side and held a finger to its mouth. The command was obeyed with a nod and the second shadow disappeared.”
He closed book with a thud.
“Hard to argue with that.”
“Quite.” Henry gestured to the chair before his desk. “Shall we begin?”
The trial beneath the Altar of Rebirth remained a mystery. He didn't want this guy to know everything he'd done. Then he realized that Dengel's actions in Kyraa were also unknown. The thought galled him and so he paid special attention to his victory over the undead mage.
He emphasized his skill and treachery, and how it prevailed over Dengel's arrogance, then went into detail about how pitiful Dengel was in his last moments. Henry recorded all this and gave him a crystal panel to transcribe his memory of the duel. Eric put his hand on it, said the activation phrase, and the panel lit up. Information from his mind traveled through his hand and into the panel as mana signals, which created the image of the mental meeting room and its statues. Simply the sight of the dead mage made him scowl. After watching the events depicted, Henry said, “Thank you, Mr. Watley. This is just the kind of story we needed.”
“That's what really happened.”
Henry slotted his notes into a vanilla folder. “Exactly, and that's what makes it so perfect. ‘I won because I had the support of my friends.' No one would believe a sell staff could defeat the Founder of Magecraft on his own. No offense.” He put the folder into a drawer for later use. “There's even a web for the use of a safety net metaphor! It's a brilliant finishing touch.”
Eric slouched. “Is that what K...Her Majesty has in mind? Underdog propaganda?”
Henry shrugged. “Perhaps, but I'm thinking bigger. As you are aware, Dengel was a
great mage but a terrible person. If more humans knew the latter, they would think less highly of him and our relationship with the elves would improve, and that could only mean good things for our world.”
The young mage grinned like a trickster, which only further convinced Henry that Tasio had made the correct decision. The glee in his voice confirmed it.
“Then, for the sake of global prosperity, I will blacken Dengel's name.”
Shadow Dengel appeared behind him.
You will fail. Humans have a secular religion based on me!
Eric resisted the urge to swat it and focused on the archivist. Can't hear anything!
By saying that, you acknowledge you do.
This is crazy! I banished Dengel; you're just a figment of my imagination!
Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.
Eric's fists clenched involuntarily and he took deep breaths to relax them. Henry noticed but said nothing. Fighting one's inner demons was a personal matter. After living through a thousand years of bloodshed, he knew that better than anyone else did.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. Pupil?”
“No, that will be all, Mr. Watley.” The young mage stood up and walked out, but Henry's voice stopped him at the door. “If you'd like to learn more about the Trickster's Chosen or those favored by Dakol, you are welcome to their archives.”
Eric looked over his shoulder. “That's legal?”
Henry's wrinkled eyes crinkled in amusement. “It is now. Her Majesty pushed it through while you were gone.”
“I might take you up on that, but for now, I'd rather check on my teammates.”
Gossip followed him as he descended the castle stairs. Clerks, nobles, servants, and soldiers were all talking about the latest choice of The Trickster, Her Majesty's mercenary friend, and Dengel's vessel. All of it made him want to wrap himself in darkness, but that would only give them more to gossip about. Then he heard something that delighted him.
“– causing a ruckus. She challenged them to a three-on-one duel and won.”
Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 Page 13
