Amorlia

by Chris Wichtendahl

  Artemis’ Big Idea

  It was three days since Artemis and her allies had taken the city. When news of the Nazeans’ rout made its way to the outer villages, the militias redoubled their efforts and drove out their occupiers. That left only the other cities of Vega in need of liberation, and once Kael began making his way about the Land, those battles were over within hours. On many of these missions, Pym would accompany him, and the two began to learn to act in concert. Kael would have been glad to take Pym as his protege, but he knew Artemis had bigger plans for the young speedster. “Royal Emissary,” Artemis told Pym, as he stood across the desk from her. She had been pouring over reports and maps all morning, trying to make sense of what her people needed and the best way to satisfy those needs. As with much else, Pym was invaluable in that regard. “Royal what now?” Pym asked, arching an eyebrow. “Emissary,” Artemis smiled up at him. She sat back in her chair, sipping a mug of joltbean tea. She made a face. “Cold?” Pym asked. When she nodded, he reached out his hands, “Give it here,” he said. He took the mug from her, rubbing the bottom of it so swiftly, steam began to rise from its contents. He handed it back and Artemis took a sip. “Perfect,” she said, “How did you do that?” “An Engineer I showed it to called it ‘friction’,” Pym explained, “If I rub something fast enough, it heats up.” Artemis grinned slyly, “I’ll bet.” Pym rolled his eyes, “Kael’s right. That really is all you think about.” She threw a wadded up piece of paper at him, and he ducked. “So,” he asked, “what does an Emissary do, anyway?” Artemis relaxed in her chair, drinking her tea, “You’ll be my representative,” she said, “to the people of the Land, to foreign visitors... you’ll be the face of Vega.” “Vega needs a face?” She nodded, “Vega needs a face.” She put the mug down and leaned forward, steepling her hands together. “We may have routed the Nazeans easily enough,” she told him, “but the people of this Land are shaken. They’re confused, angry, scared... they’re going to need reassurance that they’ll be taken care of, that people in charge are listening.” She gestured to him, “And that’s where you come in.” “Why me?” Artemis laughed, “Because just about every single citizen of Vega knows who you are,” she said, “You armed them during the battle, you’ve brought them news, food and medicine,” she smiled at him, “Plus, you’re easy to like. And they all feel that they know you. So that means they’ll accept a lot of what’s coming more readily when it comes from you.” Pym was quiet a moment, then nodded, “Okay. If you say so.” He stood and smiled at her, “You know you can always count on me.” “I know,” she smiled back. “So, where are you off to now?” “The monastery,” he replied, “I thought I’d visit a while with Deron.” “You’ve really taken a shine to him,” she teased. Pym nodded, blushing as he grinned sheepishly, “And he to me, I think.” Her eyes widened, “This sounds serious.” “I think it might be getting that way, Aye.” It was his turn to tease her as he said, “I don’t know that I’d travel through Hell for him just yet, but I think this could really become something.” “Well, I hope it does,” she said earnestly. Then, waving him off, “Go. Go see your young man. We’ll talk more about the new position tomorrow.” Pym nodded, then bowed, “Your Majesty,” he said in mock-respect. Artemis rolled her eyes and threw more paper at him, “Oh, just get out.” Pym sped off. Artemis chuckled, then stood and walked to the window, gazing thoughtfully out over the city below. That night, she and Kael lay together in bed. She was curled up in his arms, her head resting on his chest. “What did he think of the job?” Kael asked. “He seemed happy about it,” she answered, “though I think he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.” Kael nodded, “It’s tough getting used to life at court,” he said, “but I’m sure he’ll manage. He’s a bright lad.” “Mmm,” Artemis smiled, “And I think he’s falling in love.” “Deron?” She nodded. “The young novice at the monastery.” “Pym in love with a monk,” Kael laughed, “Not the first man I would have chosen for him.” “Nor I, given his views on religion,” she agreed, “but, love is funny that way.” They shared a brief kiss, then two more, and Kael said, “It certainly is.” They were silent a while, then Artemis looked up at her lover. “Kael, there’s something I’d like you to do.” “Name it.” She pulled herself up on top of him, folding her hands on his chest and looking deep into his eyes. “Marry me.”

  Revel

  The wedding of Kael T’Ken and Artemis Vega was a simple, yet elegant affair. The ceremony was held in the courtyard of the castle on a beautiful day of brilliant sunshine and warm breezes, and all the people of the Land were invited. It was performed by Father Jorrin, who, at the last moment, was joined by the mysterious Sisters of Luna. The seldom seen priestesses of the Moon Goddess had left their secluded grove to honor one of their own. The ceremony was brief. Blessings were laid upon the couple in the names of Solar and Luna, the betrothed exchanged their vows, sealed their bond with a kiss and were married. The Sisters departed as suddenly as they had appeared, beseeching Artemis to return to them at her earliest opportunity. The season was changing from spring into summer. It was decided to hold a revel in the wide verdant valley in the foothills traditionally used for the spring fires. Artemis decreed the fires be lit, for all that it was late in the season. Most thought it was to honor the day, but it was also to bring joy and a renewed sense of stability back to her still suffering people. The celebration began with food and drink and dancing as the great bonfires were built in anticipation of night. As the sun set, and the elder folk led the children back to the castle, Artemis and Kael lit the first fire. A great cheer went up from the people, and Artemis threw off her gown, beginning the circular dance about the fire, her naked skin glowing in the amber light of sunset and flame. Kael joined her, and soon all the fires had been lit, the people cast off their clothes, and the revel was joined in earnest. As night deepened and the flames grew higher, the dance became wilder and less restrained. While some, such as Artemis and Kael, kept solely to their mates, others took what partners came their way, meeting and parting in a whirlwind of passionate kisses and lustful caresses. Couples would leave the dance to rest, some taking more food and drink, others retreating to the numerous tents that ringed the mighty bonfires. Artemis and Kael sat outside their own lavishly appointed tent, refreshing themselves with fruit and wine, and accepting the kind wishes and small tokens of their guests who came by to pay their respects. Artemis wore a thin robe, and Kael a short blanket about his waist. They were about to return to the fire when Father Jorrin stumbled upon them, naked and drunk. A half-empty wineskin was slung over his shoulder. “Aaahh, con-congrajulaayshunns,” he slurred, a broad smile on his ruddy face, “Howza happy couple?” Artemis laughed. She’d had plenty of wine herself, though not near as much as the inebriated priest. “Happy,” she said, “deliriously happy.” She toasted Father Jorrin with her goblet, and he returned the gesture with his wineskin before they both drained the last of their wine in one long swallow. Artemis grinned and leaned against Kael. The world was spinning just enough, and a pleasant warmth spread throughout her body. She wanted desperately to rejoin the dance, but did not wish to offend Father Jorrin by leaving before he did. Fortunately for Artemis, Father Jorrin’s legs had chosen to stop supporting him, and he lay sprawled on the grass in front of them. This caused Artemis to laugh again, and it was many minutes before she could stop. Kael moved to help his old mentor, but was stopped by Pym and Deron, who wore robes of their own and were passing by. “Don’t worry,” the young monk said, “we’ll take care of him.” “Yes,” Pym said, helping his lover hoist the barely conscious priest onto their shoulders, “you two enjoy yourselves. We’ll get the good Father to his bed.” Artemis rose to her feet, with Kael’s help, and flung her arms around Pym’s neck. “Thank you, Pym,” she babbled into his ear. Her head rested on his shoulder, “And thank you so much for coming. And you too, Deron!” She smiled a lopsided grin at the young monk, who smiled and waved. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. Artemis continued to hug Pym, kissin
g his face, “You’re a best,” she giggled, “the best. Friend. Best friend.” Her glassy eyes met his unsteadily, “I love you, Pym.” she grinned and hugged him again, giving him another kiss as Kael finally pulled her gently away. Pym laughed. He had not drunk much wine, and was still quite steady on his feet. “I love you too, you drunken lunatic,” he said, “now go and dance with your husband, while you still have legs to dance with.” Artemis threw off her robe and tore the blanket from Kael’s waist. “One more dance, beloved!” she cried, pulling him toward the fire, “Then I’m taking you back to our tent for the rest of the night!” Kael laughed and waved to Pym as he let himself be dragged away. “She seems happy,” Deron said with a wry smile as they carried Father Jorrin to his tent. “She deserves it,” Pym said, “She’s walked a hard road, with another laid out before her.” He sighed, “She’ll have few nights like this one for quite a while, unless I miss my guess.” “Nor will you,” Deron said, “for I see your destiny entwined with hers.” They arrived at Father Jorrin’s tent, and lay the snoring monk down on his bed, covering him up and making sure he was propped on his side. “And yours, I hope,” Pym said, smiling. They walked out arm-in-arm. Deron smiled back, leaning his head on Pym’s shoulder. “Come on,” Pym said, leading Deron to the second most ornate tent on the great lawn. “Nice,” his lover said as they walked inside. The ground beneath the tent was covered in soft furs, as was the large comfortable bed. A small sofa, chairs and table had been set up, along with food and drink. “Well,” Pym winked, “I am the Royal Emissary.” They moved to the bed, dropping their robes to the floor. Pym brought Deron to him, kissing the other man’s lips, softly at first, then with greater passion. His mouth moved down Deron’s neck, across his taut chest and back up to nibble the young monk’s ear. Deron’s hands explored his lover’s body as his own mouth found Pym’s neck. He pulled Pym down onto the bed, and they sank into the lush furs, arms and legs entwined. As night drew on toward morning, and the fires began to dwindle, the moans and sighs of the varied revelers could be heard echoing across the small valley. It had been a night of celebration and a night of release. All would emerge the next day revitalized and renewed, their spirits girded for the trials that lay ahead of them.

  Artemis, Monarch of Vega

  The coronation was one week after the wedding. It was held in the central plaza of the capitol city, and as many citizens as could make it were in attendance. In the time since Vega’s liberation, Artemis had toured her Land, giving aid and comfort to her people as they needed it. With her always was her husband, the Champion Kael T’Ken, and the Royal Emissary, Pym Kenar. They were a welcome sight to many, especially to the common folk, and by their efforts the Land Vega was quickly coming back to itself. Members of the new Army of Vega were stationed about the plaza, and they too brought solace to the people. Since Artemis had regained control of her Land, there had been several attempts on her life and attacks on the city by those Nazean soldiers who had not fled or been killed with the others. All of these attacks failed thanks to the Army, which had fallen under the command of Admiral Carola Delas. The Admiral walked beside Artemis as the princess made her way to the coronation. An elderly servant fussed with Artemis’ hair all the while, clucking under her breath about the propriety of the young woman’s outfit. “Wearing trousers to your coronation,” she shook her head, “In your grandmother’s day-” “My grandmother,” Artemis said, “took the throne during a time of unprecedented peace and security. She could afford to hobble herself with elaborate frippery.” She indicated the pants, jacket and blouse she wore and rested her hand casually on the hilt of her sword. “In such perilous times, I prefer to err on the side of function.” She smiled and patted the old servant’s hand, “I promise you this, Melana,” she said, “When we live in peace once more, and the Nazeans have been driven from the shores of Amorlia forever, Vega will host a ball, and you may dress me in such finery as you see fit.” Carola cleared her throat, “If Your Majesty is quite finished discussing her wardrobe?” she arched an eyebrow. Artemis smiled again at Melana, indicating that she could go. As the servant walked away, she turned her attention to the admiral. “What do your scouts report?” “There are definitely Nazean soldiers remaining in our Land,” Carola said. “An inordinately high number retreated to the Westwall jungle as we took the city, but there were those who simply removed their armor and vanished into the crowds.” Artemis nodded, “And they are all the more dangerous because of that,” she said. “I don’t understand.” Artemis tapped the side of her head, “I implanted a suggestion before we attacked, deep in the minds of the Nazean soldiers, that they should seek shelter in the jungle if the battle did not go well.” “Why would you do that?” Carola was incredulous, “They are no doubt attacking from a safe haven within the-” “The jungle is no haven for the Nazeans,” Artemis shook her head, smiling, “you can trust me on that.” Carola gave her an odd look, but did not press the matter further. There was much Artemis had not told the admiral about her time in exile. Artemis looked thoughtful, “Those that remained were able to resist my suggestion, which means they were conditioned to do so.” She looked the older woman in the eye, “These are no mere soldiers,” she warned, “It is likely they have been trained for this eventuality, to work behind the lines and destroy their enemy from within. It is imperative we find them quickly. Vega must be a place of strength from which we can strike outward.” “That will be easier said than done,” Carola said, “They are undoubtedly hiding among the citizenry.” Artemis nodded and was about to reply, when she saw someone at the end of the hall. They looked over and saw her too, opening their arms wide. The monarch-to-be muttered to Carola as the visitors approached, “We will discuss this later.” Carola gave a curt nod, saluted and walked away as Maeri and Mikaal T’Ken walked up to Artemis. “Ah now, look at yeh,” Mikaal held her by the shoulders and appraised her, “The Monarch of Vega.” “Well, not quite yet,” Artemis grinned and hugged him. “Close enough, lass,” he said, hugging her back. Maeri came over to have her turn. “Hello, Maeri,” Artemis said, holding Kael’s mother close. “Oh, call me ‘Ma’, sweetheart,” she said, “You’re our family now.” “Aye,” Mikaal said, “and yeh best watch out. Yer new Ma will be after yeh to add to that family sooner than later.” Maeri smacked her husband’s arm, “Oh stop it now, Mikaal. You’re wanting grandbabies as much as I.” Artemis laughed, “One thing at a time, Ma,” she tried out the affectation, and found that it fit, “Da,” she said to her father-in-law, “Let me liberate Amorlia from the Nazean tyrants first. Time enough for children once that’s done.” Kael and Pym approached then, each receiving hugs in turn from the T’Kens. Kael’s parents had come into the city for the wedding and decided to stay on for the coronation, which meant they’d had time to spend with their adopted sons and their daughter-in-law. Maeri reached up to stroke her son’s blue cheek. “I still can’t believe it,” she said, “my little boy, imprisoned by Umbra herself.” “Maaaa,” Kael complained, his skin flushing purple, “I’m fine. Artemis came and got me out.” “Hey!” Pym frowned exaggeratedly. “Oh, and Pym helped,” Kael smiled and tousled the young speedster’s hair. “That he did,” Maeri gathered Pym to her, hugging him tight and kissing his head, “my brave one,” she smiled at him. “Aww, Ma,” Pym blushed as well, though he was glad of the attention. Artemis leaned against her husband and he put an arm around her shoulders. She took a moment to bask in the warmth of her new family, then stood straight, smoothing her long jacket. “Well,” she said, “I suppose I’d best get on with this, eh?” Kael and Pym made exaggerated bows, motioning for her to precede them. She made a gesture of benediction and walked past them. They fell in step behind her, followed by Mikaal and Maeri. They could hear the noise of the crowd now, and as they walked out into the plaza, a great cheer went up from those assembled. Artemis smiled and waved to her people, as did Kael and Pym. The T’Kens made their way to the seats reserved for them and Artemis approached Father Jorrin, who waited on a raised d
ais with her new crown. The trio stooped at the foot of the dais, and Kael kissed his wife. Pym gave her a hug, then the two men stood to either side as she climbed the stairs. The cheers of the crowd intensified when she stepped onto the platform, and it was several minutes before the noise quieted enough for Father Jorrin to begin the ceremony. The ceremony itself was simple and short. The names of the Sacred Line of Vega were recited, starting with Vega herself and ending with Anders, Artemis’ father and predecessor. When the Line had been spoken, the Gods were invoked and the crown of the Monarchy was laid upon her brow. Her old crown would be put away until her own Heir reached the age of ascension. Father Jorrin turned to the crowd as Artemis rose from where she’d knelt. She stood proudly and waved to her people. “People of the Land Vega,” the Solarian priest cried, “the Line continues unbroken! Raise your voices in blessing and celebration! All Hail Artemis, Monarch of Vega!” And the cry went out across the plaza, and the people rejoiced. “All Hail Artemis, Monarch of Vega!” Admiral Carola Delas looked down upon the celebration from the window of a tall building and scowled. “Yes,” she whispered, “all hail Artemis.” She watched the scene in the plaza for a few minutes more, then turned and walked away from the window. Unbeknownst to Admiral Carola Delas, her ire did not go unnoticed by its subject.