Most of the elves were still conscious at the moment. It’s just that they were wandering around in a daze. I suspected there would be more than a few more injuries amongst their numbers from misunderstandings that might occur while under the influence of Yorik’s mind magic. I’d inquired with her before, but apparently, she hadn’t figured out how to modify what the person she was affecting was seeing on such a large scale. She could do it to some extent when she only had one person to deal with, but as soon as she brought a second one under the spells influence, it was impossible for her to control. A shame. If she could, I would have been able to simply take control of the entire group simply by convincing them that I was their right and just leader.
I guess I’d just have to usurp a leadership position the old fashion way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I grabbed Nela by the arm. One of the fire wielding elves next to her widened her eyes in sudden surprise and fury.
“Unhand the young matriarch!” She shouted.
I jumped in surprise. I had been certain she was under the influence of Yorik’s spell. How did she break through that?
Thankfully, it appeared she hadn’t broken out of Yorik’s spell after all. I easily sidestepped her blow, and it sailed harmlessly past me. Then I swept her feet out from under her, toppling her into the dirt. I used the same trick I did for the other Songstone clanswomen and buried her neck-deep in a pile of dirt.
I was able to spot her spellheart. It was dangling on a necklace which I yanked off her head.
“The matriarch! Save her! The green swamp bears are attacking! To arms! Songstone clan! Defend the barrels of whiskey! We’ll drink well tonight!” Her shouts quickly became less and less rooted in reality the moment I separated her from her spellheart. Maybe she’d been at a higher level than the others.
That was interesting. I supposed that the spellheart provided some innate resistance to Yorik’s delusion spell simply by existing. Maybe you could block out one zeal aspect by flooding the surrounding area with zeal under your own control. A possible avenue of defense to pursue later.
Still, it seemed that none of the Songstone elves had such a defensive technique. I suddenly realized that this would be a lot easier than I thought. One by one, I went around and collected the spellhearts of every Songstone clan member.
Nela Songstone, the young matriarch, had by far the biggest spellheart. More than that though, it was crystal clear and it positively throbbed with power. It was of the earth alignment, and even though it wasn’t bonded to me I could feel its power. This thing was only a few times bigger than mine, but it was clearly miles beyond it in terms of power. It was like there was a fundamental level of quality different between my spellheart and this one. That was one more secret I added to the list of things I could acquire from the Songstone clan. This sudden attack might just prove to be more blessing than curse.
With Yorik’s help, I disarmed everyone in the Songstone clan. Sava was just as badly hit by the spell as the rest of the elves, so I moved her somewhere where she couldn’t hurt herself. It was very curious how this disorientation spell of Yorik’s seemed to have no effect on me but was devastating to all the elves. That was another secret that I’d have to figure out.
“All right Yorik. You can drop the spell.” Yorik slumped over. Clearly holding that many people in a dazed state had taken a lot out of her.
“W-what!?” Nela Songstone blinked as she came to her senses. “What happened?”
“You’ve been bested by Theo, the genius tactician!” I said in an overly dramatic voice. It was a little over the top, but it would be a good idea to plant her belief in my competence early.
I’d expected something along the lines of ‘Let me go this instant!’ But instead the young matriarch just took a few moments to take in the entire situation. Her people had been completely immobilized. There were some light wounds, but nobody seriously injured. Sava had taken the worst of it, but I’d taken her inside the hut. Yorik would explain things to her hopefully. Or at least stall her long enough that she didn’t run out trying to bash some heads while I was trying to negotiate a peace treaty.
“This is a surprise.” Nela said, an air of defeat in her voice. “I didn’t realize we’d be fighting another mind heartwielder. Just when we thought we’d survived the Unblinking Eye’s wrath they strike again when we least expect it.”
“What you could have or should have done matters little. You were beaten by me, now it’s time to make a deal. For your sake, and your fellow clanswomen.”
“Quit pretending.” Nela said, a trace of grim acceptance in her voice. “I know you mind heartwielders have come to finish my people off. It wasn’t enough to take our home and kill our families, you had to hunt down us survivors as well.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Fine, be that way. Just let me ask, which one of you is the mind heartwielder? It certainly wasn’t the herbalist you called Sava. Was it you?”
I shook my head. “As much as I would like to lay claim to that power, it was not. It was my faithful vassal Yorik there.” I inflated my tone and words to sound more noble. It was a habit I’d picked up from too much roleplaying, but it seemed to be working. The elf was taking me seriously, which was a good sign.
“An orc? Really?” Nela said in surprise. “I didn’t think the Unblinking Eye let orcs into their circle.”
The Unblinking Eye? That was the second time she mentioned what sounded like a sinister organization. I glanced at Yorik. She glanced back at me, shrugging her shoulders.
A sense of tension suddenly flowed out of Nela. “You’re not with the Unblinking Eye then?”
I didn’t want to answer that question, though I was curious as to who these ‘Unblinking Eye’ people where, and why my hostage seemed to be afraid of them. When you were negotiating, it was best to do so from a position of strength. Ignorance did not project an image of strength. Besides, there were more important questions to be asked.
“I’ll be asking the questions.” I held up her spellheart. “This Spellheart. Why is it different from mine?”
Nela blinked, as if I had asked the most obvious question in the world. “That’s a high-grade spellheart. The other thing you’ve got in your hands is a low or mid-grade spellheart. I had the seed crystal bestowed to me by the Sorceress of my clan. She knows some powerful zeal manipulation techniques, which is how she made it. Yours was self-made, it looks like. The seed crystal was probably looted from the corpse of a monster.”
Alright, new question then. “Why did you attack our camp?”
Nela blinked again.
“Didn’t I say, Give us the chaka? We came here to get you of course.”
“I gathered that, but why?”
“I can’t tell if you’re asking these questions to throw me off… but on the off chance you don’t actually work for the Cult of the Unblinking Eye, I’ll tell you. Our clan was hit hard.” Nela shook her head sadly. “Of these people I brought with me, most are from the lowest echelon of our clan. Groundskeepers, gardeners, smiths, cooks, and caretakers. I brought them with me when I fled from the ruins of our ancestral home. I don’t know how many others of the Songstone clan are out there, but here I am, trying to save all I can. With only us left, our clan’s position is precarious. We tried to bring one of the low-ranked males with us, but he won’t ever amount to much. He has neither the talent nor the diligence for cultivation. That means our numbers will continue to dwindle and it will be impossible for us to reestablish a lasting bloodline. Without a future generation, we’re not a clan, just a crew of bandits. We’ll have a much harder time seizing and holding territory, and there will never be any chance of avenging our kin. Thus, the two most important objectives in recovering our strength is increasing the spellhearts of our surviving members and increasing our numbers. When I found out about you, I realized you were the best option for increasing our numbers. Little did I know that path would lead us all to disaster.” Nela shrugged, tears rolli
ng in her eyes.
“One of your people said something that made me think they thought they were saving me.”
Nela grimaced. “About that… I may have told them you were in the clutches of a cruel tormentor. An evil herbalist that was experimenting with death potions. It could have been true for all I know. I was one of the youngest and weakest daughters of the old matriarch, so I can’t rule through force of arms. I needed a good story to motivate them.”
***
I chatted with Nela for several more minutes. Eventually she got one of her arms free of the surrounding dirt, but I did nothing to stop her. She was freely providing me with a lot of good information. More than that though, I felt like we were developing a bit of a relationship. Enough that she’d let me negotiate with her directly instead of relying on brute force or forcing me to talk to her through an intermediate.
I ended up asking her why males were so valuable to elves. According to her, elvish men are fairly rare because they have problems condensing enough zeal to even form a physical body, let alone cultivating with a spellheart. This played an important part in why I was personally valuable as well. Anybody could tell just from my physical appearance that I was healthy, and thus it was assumed that I had a substantial amount of zeal in my body. This was very rare for elvish men and could only be accomplished by brute forcing the male elf’s body with countless incredibly valuable techniques and training aids, such as elixirs.
“Why would you bother? If elvish men are so weak –and I’m not an elf by the way, as I’ve said already — why bother trying to train them to be more powerful?”
“If you look like an elf, talk like an elf, and smell like an elf, you’re an elf. But to answer your question, there are a couple of reasons for that. One of the main motivations for bonding and cultivating a spellheart is that as zeal accumulates in your body your lifespan is extended. Not as much as if you merge your spellheart into your body and become a mage acolyte, cleric acolyte, or seer acolyte, but it is still a substantial amount. A male who lives longer can produce more children, which benefits the clan. Beyond that though, children are born with an innate amount of physical power that is intrinsic to them. That’s power they don’t have to train for or cultivate. They have that immediately. The amount the children start with is determined by the bloodline they inherit from their parents, the mother and father.”
“There are plenty of mothers who are powerful. My own mother was a sorcerer, levels above common elves in terms of power. But my father was just an ordinary male at the third level of zeal accumulation. As a result, I was born with talent determined by a loose average between them. I was blessed with a reasonable degree of power, but I wasn’t born at the acoylte ranks, like the children born to a powerful mother and father both. If the younger generation is strong, then the future of the clan is assured. The trouble is, the powerful mothers take decades to bare even a single child.”
I nodded my head in understanding. “I see. Having a father who is healthy and has at least a reasonable amount of zeal and a decent bond with a spellheart means any children start at a higher point. While mothers are limited to producing children infrequently, fathers are not. Thus, a strong elvish man can sire an entire generation of powerful warriors relatively quickly.”
“Now you see. Don’t worry, you’ll be well treated. Our resources are scarce nowadays, but we’ll see that we meet your desires. We can’t assign anyone to be your full-time caretaker, but I’ll make sure everyone treats you with respect. You’ll live a life of comfort, at the highest standard we can provide. And if we come across any items that can improve your cultivation base, they’ll be yours.”
I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Truth be told, you make a tempting offer, though not for the reasons you think. I’m not really interested in sitting around and being pampered. That being said, the resources your clan could provide just in terms of information would be valuable to me. I think we can come to an arrangement. I just need a few conditions fulfilled.” I grabbed Nela’s hand and tugged her fully out of the dirt and waved my hand. I was getting really good at controlling earth zeal, and that simple motion was enough to clean most of the grime from her clothes and body.
Nela dusted herself off anyway, she held out her hand, expecting me to give her back her spellheart. I withheld it. Nela’s companions had long since recovered from Yorik’s spell, and some were glaring at me with unkind expressions, despite Nela’s standing order to sit still, half buried in the dirt. That was nice, but Nela herself had admitted that her authority over the Songstone clanswomen wasn’t absolute. I’d be holding onto their spellhearts and returning them as I saw fit.
“First condition. Sava, the herbalist you noticed, gets to join your clan. I’m used to her and I like having a familiar face around her. Same goes for Yorik.”
“The orc?” Nela shook her head. “An elf we can manage. Outsiders are occasionally adopted into clans under strenuous circumstances, and our current situation certainly counts as that. We can use every boost to our numbers that we can get. But I can’t say the same for the orc. The orcs have been the historic enemies of elf kind. If I tried to even make her an honorary clan member I would be making more enemies for the Songstone clan than friends.”
“Fine, she’s my personal retainer then. She’ll follow my orders and will be allowed to act under my authority.”
Nela looked like she was going to balk again, but when she saw my unwavering expression she acquiesced. “Done. Now we must hurry. We need to secure food and shelter before winter comes. Illia will show you—”
“That brings me to my second point.” I interrupted. “I want to have some formal standing in your clan. I want to be Patriarch.”
Nela blinked. “Patriarch? What’s that?”
“I noticed you were called matriarch. Patriarch is like the same thing, except for men.”
Nela pondered that for a moment. “I’ve never heard of such a title, but if that’s what you want, then consider it done. You’re the Songstone clan patriarch now.”
I glanced around at the Songstone clan members. “You hear that? Everyone who wants their spellheart’s back should come and bow to their new patriarch!”
Congratulations on gaining political power! May your reign be eternally interesting… [+500 points]
And thus, begun my takeover of the Songstone clan began.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
One of my first acts as patriarch was to send a delegation along with Sava to the central location of the Riverweed tribe. The purpose of this mission was mostly to establish the authority to do such things, but it also gave me the opportunity to place some of Nela’s Songstone clan members under Sava’s authority. She was still hesitant to leave the Riverweed tribe, even though they hadn’t treated her with anything more than apathy. Still, she insisted that the Songstone clan would be a wide notch better than joining up with the Riverweed tribe for me.
“A tribe is just a tribe, but a clan is a clan.” Sava had said, as though it were obvious the latter held far greater prestige.
When Sava finally returned to bring news though what they found turned out to be of vastly greater importance than I’d expected. The reason why Riverweed tribe cultivators never showed up, even with a fight going on along their boarders, was because they had much bigger problems to worry about.
Mainly, the fact that their entire grove of tree houses was now a smoldering ruin.
Sava managed to find her half sister in the ruins, who she brought back to her home, around which the Songstone clan members had erected a temporary camp.
“They’re… gone…” Katiana said, eyes half glazed over.
I sat across from her in one of Sava’s larger chairs. “The whole Riverweed tribe? What happened?”
After a bit of talking, I managed to get the full story out of the distressed elf. Their neighbors, the Crimson Dragonfly tribe, were trying to unite this whole region under their own banner. Apparently, they’d already managed to
subdue the two tribes closes to them, having exterminated the Claw Tamers’ tribe and gotten the chieftain of the Hidden Serpents tribe to pledge loyalty as a subordinate to them.
With the might and resources of three tribes under their belt, the Crimson Dragonfly tribe restyled themselves as the Crimson Dragon clan and were now vying to take over the entire Hearthwood forest. There were four major tribes left, with the Riverweed tribe being the largest.
No doubt, now that they’d wiped out the main political heart of the Riverweed tribe, they would be waiting for many of the Riverweed cultivators who were only loosely affiliated with the tribe, such as Sava who lived out on the fringes of their territory, to change their allegiance over to them.
It might have worked, but now the remnants of the Songstone clan were establishing themselves in the area. Sure, they were pitifully weak, but according to Nela given a few weeks to establish themselves they could use some of the treasures they’d escaped with from their clan to fortify the surrounding area to impenetrability. Many of the Songstone survivors had been servants, but despite that they had mid or high-quality spellhearts. It would take them time to adapt their skills to combat, but with training they could become a formidable force in the area.
***
“The first thing we need to do is establish a base of operations for our new clan headquarters. From there we can start building.” Nela said at the first meeting of the Songstone clan. And the first meeting in many generations that all known living members of the entire clan were present and accounted for. Back home, not a single one of the Songstone clansmen present would have had the standing to attend a meeting of elders. Now, they were the elders.
There were others present who hadn’t been directly involved in attacking Sava, me, and Yorik. They were mostly old and young, though curiously enough, elves didn’t age like humans did. They popped into existence as young women and died of old aged as white-haired women. It’s like their range of ages was restricted between eighteen and thirty-five. There were some examples of both present. Almost all the faces I hadn’t seen earlier were on the younger side. Many members of the older generation chose to stay behind and cover the retreat of the younger survivors, choosing to forfeit what years remained to secure safety of their descendants. It was a futile defense, but many of the elves saw it as an honorable end.
Zeal of the Mind and Flesh Page 18
