by Billy Wong
"Should I go and magically heal her to the extent I can, just in case?"
But to cast spells would risk sending him back on the path to changing into an inhuman monster, and they 'd agreed for him not to do so except in the most dire need. "No, I don't think her injury justifies it considering how tough she's proven to be. She just needs rest now, and to get some blood back in her."
"How long you think she'll be bedridden?" he asked, as if to measure the difference in toughness between Danica and his indestructible love.
"If she remembers she's queen of all Terlon now, I doubt it'll be long. She'll too eager to solidify her rule."
"But how will she actually get Sean's land, when he's unwilling to give it up?"
Rose frowned, not particularly wanting to think about that. "Maybe he'll come to his senses by then. Or his subjects will rise up and overthrow him. That might actually be a decent lesson, as long as he doesn't get hurt in the process. So much power so quickly... of course it's changed him a lot. It really does seem like he's chosen by fate—for what I'm not sure, but something must be guiding his journey. It's just so improbable otherwise. But I believe he's still a good guy underneath, and will realize what's best."
Thoughtfully, Finn said, "You think something like fate actively guides his life? I thought you didn't believe in that stuff. So what about you, Rose? Would you say you're chosen by fate too?"
"According to the great Evan, my life should've ended years ago in Coblan. I'm still here, tough as ever. So maybe I defy fate through my very existence?" She laughed. "But no, I don't really think Sean's fate is set in stone even if there is some force influencing it. It's true he's getting his opportunities a bit more easily than most, but not to the point he won't have to work to make something big happen. And he is working—just not the way I'd like."
"So who do you think's tougher, you or Danica?" Finn asked playfully.
Raising her chin, she adopted a haughty demeanor. "Me, of course. I don't stay out of a fight over a punctured lung or need ages to rest and recover from injuries, do I?"
"Nope. Love you for it."
They indulged in each other's adoring looks for the better part of a minute before she asked, "You want to go home now?"
"We didn't even finish the Polier side of our restaurant tour yet!"
"That's true. I'd also like to make sure Danica is recovering all right, if that doesn't take too long. So, let's eat!"
#
Rose was summoned to Danica's bedchamber the next morning, and on her way wondered nervously what was going on. Though they had parted with seemingly mutual respect, she worried the queen might have figured out her intent to lose from the start and begrudge her anew for it.
Upon entering, Rose felt relief to see Danica flash her a genuine, if weak, smile from beneath her light blanket. "Morning, Rose."
She returned the smile and the greeting. "Morning to you too. Are you well?"
"You impaled me yesterday," Danica said flatly. But Rose could feel the warmth in her gaze, and knew she had no hard feelings about it.
"I'm glad to see you're doing okay. I guess I shouldn't have worried as much about you as I did. You're one tough woman."
"Thank you for your concern. Even after I tried to kill you in a duel that needn't be fatal—you're something else, Iron Flower."
"If you mean that flippy move, I don't hold it against you. Any move with live blades could potentially be deadly. It wasn't very practical, though."
Danica chuckled. "It was meant to be unpredictable."
"So what did you want to talk to me about, anyway?"
It was obvious by now that Danica hadn't called her here to yell at her, but her answer still surprised Rose. "I wanted to tell you, I realize I was wrong. I kind of resented you for 'stealing' my crown, even though I never got to know you. But now I see there's no reason to hate you. And I did make some poor decisions." Though she didn't say it outright, Rose thought she referred to not coming back as soon as she could. That might have justified continued anger towards her, but like she had told Sean, the past was past. "I'm sorry, and I hope we can be on good terms after this."
An apology? Even now Rose hadn't expected to hear such from Danica's lips, but it was welcome nonetheless. She smiled. "I forgive you. For a person like you to even admit being wrong is a great start. Maybe this will be the start of a beautiful friendship."
"A person like me?" Danica scowled. "What do you mean by that?"
"A noble, of course! You know, because they're all evil."
"So you say? Well, I guess we can never be friends then."
They shared a laugh, and Rose left to allow the wounded warrior her rest. If not friends, they could certainly at least make good allies in whatever battles lay ahead.
#
Stupid ugly bitch! Why did she have to betray him so, when he'd trusted her as a friend to help him? Yes, she'd argue that Danica was the better choice to rule Terlon with her greater experience and trust among the people, but everyone had to start somewhere. Even if he might not be as suitable a ruler right now, he strongly believed he had the potential to lead Terlon into a new age of progress. And Rose, his friend, had robbed him of that opportunity!
Passing by Danica's room, Sean couldn't help walking inside though he had no idea what he meant to do. Her weak appearance did not prevent the pounding of his heart at her sight. Even wounded as she was, she could surely tear the head from his shoulders with her bare hands. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered she was his half-sister, but he could hardly imagine sharing blood with the barbaric warrior.
Opening lazy eyes, Danica regarded him coldly. "Hello, brother. Come to congratulate me on my victory?"
"I know Rose threw that fight. She had you beat."
"You can think what you want. But I won, so give me back my kingdom. All of it."
Sean scoffed. "No. I won't lose to a stupid trick."
"If she did yield prematurely—which she didn't—she would have done it for the good of the nation. She certainly wouldn't have done it out of love for me."
"In any case, I haven't gotten a fair chance to show my merits."
Her gaze showed some interest. "And what merits would that be? Tell me why, when it comes down to it, I shouldn't think you're just a silly boy with foolhardy dreams."
"They're not foolhardy, they're"—he hesitated in choosing the word—"idealistic."
"How do you know the difference? Sean, look. I'm your sister, and we're the only family we have now. I don't like you yet, but I'm willing to give that a chance to change, if you'll let me. Our father would want us to support each other in times of need, not bicker while Julian plots our demise."
His sister, huh? Maybe in blood, but they hadn't been raised as siblings, and were hardly suited to be friends. In her presence, he only felt nervous and miserable. With shaking hands, he replied, "I don't want to be family with you. You're a arrogate brute whose sole expertise is in fighting and intimidating people. The only thing I'd want you to be of mine is my ally in battle, and even there..."
She glared at him. "Then get out of here, before I tear your head right off. I don't need a brother who hates and judges me without knowing me at all. And you can bet I'll be taking Belar back soon. My kingdom will be whole whether you like it or not."
Scared out of his wits and somewhat regretting his angry words, Sean fled the room breaking into a cold sweat. Now that he was out of favor with Rose, who would save him from his wrathful sister?
#
Approaching the mainland shore on his new ship, Julian sighed. He had found a weapon of Deathend's alleged making among the islands off the south coast of Fanteia, but it turned out to be nigh useless for fighting anyone. Though there seemed no evidence that it'd been damaged since its creation, it was not the kind of fine blade he'd hoped to find. Instead it was, inexplicably, merely the hilt of one, with a pommel and crossguard shaped to resemble flames.
He'd imagined for a moment that the swor
d's blade lay concealed within the hilt, and some stimuli could unleash the mighty weapon it truly was. But he saw no room for such a blade to hide, nor any place for it to come out—unless of course it was magically hidden, a possibility he would have to look into. But he already felt jaded from the failure of his search so far, and doubted the piece of junk he'd found would prove of value. Was he doomed to suffer divine punishment?
How much did Deathend know about his search? Was he all-seeing as some gods claimed to be, or did he have more limited awareness? Well, he couldn't be omniscient, because he hadn't been able to tell where the axe-boy was before Regis discovered him by sheer luck. Thinking about this, Julian's assessment of his chances for success grew better, if only by a slight margin.
But upon returning to his home in the Fanteian capital of Ohere, Julian found something which disturbed him greatly. Deathend's armor, including the helmet through which he'd spoken to the god, was gone. Did this mean he had already returned in physical form? If so, Julian's time drew near, and he needed to discover how to defeat Deathend soon. Well, he might already have the sword needed to do the job, even if it was to all appearances only a hilt. Perhaps the axe-boy held the key to revealing its true nature. Julian went north.
#
"Great sage," Crown Prince Lawrence asked, "what can you tell of the future of my nation? What threats must I be wary of?"
Evan wasn't unused to such questions and gave the regent of Kayland his usual instructions, to wait for him to awaken from his dreams with whatever insights he found in them. He went to the back of his cave, lay down on the humble bed with stained old sheets and drifted off. More vividly than with waking sight, he saw the inert body of an enormous creature which appeared to be made of dark blue stone. Two young humans, a male and a female wearing iron headdresses shaped like flowers, walked into view to grab its hands. They pulled backwards, and it came to its feet. Pits of abyssal darkness that served for eyes opened, and the entity roared. It clenched its fist, and the world began to crumble around it.
Evan awoke with a shout and Lawrence came running in, as his visions were not normally accompanied by sound. But the prince would be mistaken to assume he'd yelled involuntarily in sleep, because he had been fully awake and shouted in reaction to the magnitude of his dreadful insight. Even though he should have been most concerned about the threat to the world, right this moment he felt somehow more sorry for the poor heroic parents whose children stood destined to revive it.
Chapter 10
"Julian?!" Sean said as a guard informed him of the visitor's identity. "Hold him off until more men get here!"
"Relax," Julian instructed while he walked past the frightened soldiers into the courtyard, making no move to attack though he held his sword in hand. "I don't come looking for a fight, but to ask peacefully for your help."
"You kidnapped me before and murdered my father and uncle! I should have you killed!"
"Could you?" Before Sean could reply, Julian continued, "Besides, that was then and this is now. Our countries may cross paths again in the future, but for now, I give my word I won't try to harm you so long as we're in this together."
"And what might 'this' be?"
"We will kill Deathend. I have found the weapon for the task, but you must wield it."
But Deathend wasn't real! He hesitated to say that though, knowing if the emperor believed it it might be the end for him. "Why can't you wield it? You're a better fighter than me many times over!"
"Of course I am. But destiny favors you against the war god, and without fate's decree no man can stand against divinity."
"All right, I'll help you! Tell me when Deathend returns, and I'll come join you then." He figured that would never come to be, and thought only to buy himself time with his promise.
Julian smiled. "Good to see you're willing to put our differences aside for both our nations' sakes. Because he's already back." Sean didn't believe it at first, until Julian put doubt into his mind by adding, "He has already taken over my capital of Ohere." Even though Sean had thought him insane, he didn't seem crazy enough to delude himself to that extent. "I did not try to fight him, knowing I would never have stood a chance. He comes now for Terlon, and only you can stop him."
#
"I can't believe it's already been a week!" Rose exclaimed as she chewed on a big piece of spicy chicken inside the music-filled restaurant. "At least it's been a week of fun. But we've got to go back soon."
Finn shook his head, meat pie crumbs falling from his beard. "Oh, come on. We don't ever get enough time together in peace—no kids, no responsibilities, no battles—why not enjoy it while we can? Who knows when we'll get another chance?"
She threw back a mouthful of cider and grinned. "Oh, there'll be plenty of chances. We're both still young, right?"
"I suppose we are. But this little break is still nice."
"Yeah, it is. I'm just thinking of the people who are working hard because we're not."
Finn shrugged. "It's not like our work hasn't saved other people a lot of trouble already. Trouble like getting murdered by evil men like Regis."
"I'm not sure we ever knew him well enough to judge him quite so harshly. He was just an enemy."
"He was an ass, Rose. Didn't you tell me he called you ugly?!"
She laughed. "Aren't I?" she asked, knowing full well what his answer would be.
"Of course not. You're the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Thanks." She hugged him close, and he made himself cozy in her great mane of fluffy dark hair.
"So your prince still hasn't smartened up, huh?"
"No." Sean had adamantly refused to reunite his piece of Terlon with the rest under Danica's rule, and shunned any negotiation towards settling the matter. It frustrated Rose to see someone she considered a friend act so dumb, but at least Danica fared well. Thorn having not pierced her dead center, the tough queen was already back on her feet, albeit gingerly so.
"What do you think he's doing?"
"I have no idea. Being mad at me?"
Finn bit off half a biscuit in one go. His mouth stuffed, he asked nigh unintelligibly, "Time for you to go make up with him yet, considering you're about ready to leave?"
"Nope, I'm still enjoying my meal," she said with a smile. "Seriously, though, I don't think he'd want to talk to me about it this soon. He seemed really mad last time."
"You did cost him the country."
"He brought it on himself, trying to manipulate me. But let's not talk anymore about such stressful subjects. It's ruining my enjoyment of the food."
Finn nodded right before a scream of terror really ruined the mood. Rose turned around to look out the door and saw people running in panic as if being attacked by an army, or a monster. The couple rushed outside to regard what appeared to be a very dead man stumbling down the street, waving a sword. "Death to Terlon! Glory to Fanteia!" the desiccated corpse said in a dry rasp.
Rose's husband didn't waste any time trying to talk, but dashed before it and struck it squarely in the sternum with his mace. The blow would have killed a normal man, but did even more to the rotting undead. Driven all the way through, the club's heavy head took most of its chest out its back, and it fell with its upper torso shattered.
"How are we supposed to ask how it came to be now?" Rose said. "It's apparently an ally of Fanteia-"
"No, we are Fanteia!" another corpse which bumbled into view cried. It lurched forward, brandishing its sword with the skill of a veteran fighter—a crippled veteran. Finn ended its movement by burying his mace down through its skull and into its chest.
"Okay, next one we ask-"
The next creature screamed, "The old empire rises again! Fanteia shall rule all!"
Finally Rose managed to ask, "How are you here?"
"We rode." It clumsily slashed at her.
She blocked with ease. "No, how are you still moving when you're obviously dead?"
"Our god brought us back. Thank Deathend!"
That didn't make much sense to Rose, and she pondered its words as she deliberately prolonged their fight. Another undead approached. "Rose?" Finn asked.
"Go ahead, smash it. As long as we keep one alive... er, unalive." How could Deathend have raised these warriors if he was dead himself, and not a god? Rose felt sure Regis hadn't been lying to her with his dying words. But no human she knew, except those spoken of in ancient legends, had such magical power as to draw the soul back into dead flesh. To the best of her knowledge, Finn would be the top human mage in the world if he could use his magic, and he wasn't anywhere near that level.
She'd killed the only mages she'd met who had been better, and those hadn't even been human anymore, but at least partly ascended into the form of dragons. But there likely still existed monstrous creatures that wielded greater magical power than Finn, possibly of a different nature. Did a monster ally itself with Fanteia while calling itself Deathend or his servant? Neither was out of the question; she and Finn had fought monsters passing themselves off as gods before.
"Who sent you?" she asked her opponent. "Where did you come from?"
"Deathend sends us from his empire!"
This was getting nowhere, and Rose didn't expect she'd be able to interrogate an undead with much success—nor relish the idea of doing it. She stopped holding back and chopped the creature to pieces.
"That was odd," Finn said, shaking pieces of flesh and bone off his mace. "What was the point of that attack? Surely they couldn't have been expected to do anything."
Booming laughter resounded through the now empty street. "They did do something. They brought out the fighters here." A figure stepped into sight from behind a building, with such swiftness it could almost have formed out of thin air. It was massively tall in contrast to its speed and grace, about seven and a half feet, and wore silvery full plate covered in rather impractical spikes. An antlered helmet completely obscured its face except for blazing red eyes visible through the narrow visor slit. In its hand, it held a huge, beautiful sword, the pommel and crossguard of its hilt formed into the shape of raging flames.
