Lydia opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. It was apparent to everyone that she had a hundred complaints and a dozen questions about that decision. She was not alone in this and all of them knew that the Apex would not tell them anything he did not wish to tell. There was only one answer to give.
“If that is your will, Emperor.”
“Apparently, Lydia pissed him off enough,” Rave whispered.
“Maybe… but we may have just witnessed one of the more important moments in Abyssal history,” John answered. A raised eyebrow indicated Rave’s confusion.
“Look at the people,” John made a low waving gesture. Very few people looked like they were happy with the vote that had just been declared, a lot of them actually looked angry, then there were the few that were seething, like the duke, who was still sitting in front of the table he had just destroyed. Of course, no one dared to speak up, the man on his throne could have annihilated all of the attendees by himself.
“Lydia wasn’t all that smart to try and fight Romulus, but Romulus just kicked the autonomy he has granted the Germans down. He has every right to, their constitution says so, but that doesn’t mean that the people will be happy with this. They feel disrespected. Today might be the starting point of some separatism movement,” John explained. Pointing at the duke of Saxony he added, “which is probably why that unity loving guy over there is angry as hell, separatism likes to come with civil strife.”
Rave, very slowly nodded. “What does that mean for us, tiger?” she wanted to know.
“It means we do what we promised Lydia to do… and afterwards we will see if sticking around is in our best interest,” he smiled. As a bit of a cynical joke, he added, “We are Americans, if we get involved with other people’s civil wars, then only ‘cause we cause them… or because they have something we want.”
“Or to protect them from evil commies,” Rave giggled.
The two patron goddesses that were contracted to the emperor walked down the stairs and towards the candidates. Luna went to Lydia, while Sol went over to Maximillian. The Austrian candidate had reclaimed his cocky smile, although he still was a bit pale. If he was as outraged as the rest of the gathered Germans, he hid it well enough for John to not be able to tell. The clenched fists under the table were a sign of something though.
‘If he gets to the throne he will only have managed it thanks to Romulus’ grace on this day,’ John thought while the two goddesses retreated from the candidates. ‘Whether what Lydia said earlier was true or not, Maximillian is now indebted to Romulus… but if he wants to rule there is nothing that will make him pull back now.’
John knew the feeling of taking whatever straw promised the slightest bit of safety. In a situation like this, it was all or nothing for Maximillian. He couldn’t step back without angering his supporters, he couldn’t accept without angering his people. At least he got to rule in the latter proposition though. There was no choice for him but to push through.
“The candidates shall now proceed to announce their first fighters,” Romulus declared. “To prevent last minute changes from either candidate, the names will be presented simultaneously.” The goddesses stretched out their hands and the numerals within the circles above were replaced with names.
He saw his own one in silver letters, John Newman, presented to the world. God only knew how many people were watching this. “Well, there goes my last bit of anonymity, I guess,” John sighed.
“Don’t worry, ya will get through it,” Rave winked and held his hand.
John looked over to the other bubble. Alexej Zeritr, it spelled out. A pretty Slavic first name, although John had no idea where the later part came from. “Fighters, step forth,” Romulus gestured.
“Here goes hoping I don’t trip over my own feet,” John said and kissed Rave.
“I’ll laugh the loudest, so ya can ignore everyone else,” she told him.
“Truly the love of my life, what did I do to deserve you,” he drily commented before walking off.
Eyes followed John, as he walked up to the table. The front rows inspected him with a degree of recognition, the backrows mumbled. Attention was split quite evenly between him and his opposite.
Alexej wore a simple brown monk robe similar to the one the Czech elector had. It was probably safe to assume that he was from the same area. He was a short guy, light blonde, short hair, and not plain in the looks department. Dark green eyes stared back at John, a smile underneath. When the Gamer attempted to use Observe, it only earned him a two-second-long, violent headache.
‘The same effect as that spine, but less potent,’ he noted. Whoever this was, was extremely skilled at information manipulation. A blond guy with green eyes, skilled at information blocking, similar to that nazi-spine-thingy, who seemed to know John. There was an inkling at the back of John’s head, but he chose to push it down. ‘There is no reason for SecretBlonde to come out here after hiding for so long,’ John told himself, while also making sure that he remembered to look up this guy by telling Aclysia and Momo to remind him.
He felt Momo’s mild annoyance at being used as a mental notepad, but she didn’t raise a complaint. John stepped to Lydia’s side with Alexej on Maximillian’s side. “Are those the fighters you have chosen?” Romulus asked in a ritualistic fashion.
“Yes, Emperor of Kings,” Maximillian was eager to answer.
“Yes,” Lydia kept it short, her hands folded behind her back, spine straight.
“Are you willing to fight for these candidates?” the seated giant continued.
“Of course, why would I not?” Alexej answered with a wink towards John and Lydia. “It will probably be a lot of fun.”
“Yes, I will fight for Princess Lydia,” John kept it on point. He did not feel at home in front of the crowd. The quicker he got this over with, and out of the spotlight, the happier he would be. Right now, he felt like a toad in a desert, hoping it would turn out to just be a sandy lake shore instead.
He felt Lydia shove her foot against his. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but Lydia didn’t even turn her head. It took him a moment. “Also, I will use a golem to fight at my side,” John quickly spoke out.
“Show it to us then,” Romulus demanded.
‘I don’t want to,’ came the words from Momo.
‘Well, it is too late for that, young lady!’ John almost screeched in his mind. ‘If I have to be up here, so do you.’
‘YOU’RE NOT MY DAD – NOT IN ANY WAY THAT MATTERS!’ Momo shouted back and a moment later stepped up to his side with an empty expression. The world would, and should, never know the mental bickering that continued in their heads.
“This is her, Momo,” John said.
The giant nodded. “I see and accept. You two will be the first fighters chosen for the eighth tournament of succession, my congratulations for this honour,” Romulus clapped his hands, his goddesses following the motion a moment later. The sounds echoed through the silent room. Reluctantly, the seething masses did the same and underwhelming applause filled the cathedral.
‘I don’t know what is more uncomfortable, the bad mood or just standing here right now,’ John thought, repressing the urge to awkwardly scratch his neck.
The applause died quickly and Romulus rose from his throne. “The choices of this day are made. The following three days will see the announcement of the remaining candidates. Tomorrow, two announcements will be made. The days after that, one each. We gather after the bell has announced noon.” Walking as he talked, Romulus headed for the exit. His presence remained dominating, until he vanished in the doorframe. The moment he was gone, so were the cameras.
John let out the air he held in his lungs and breathed in freely. His relaxation was short-lived, however. “Come with me,” Lydia instructed and she marched off at a speed barely below running. A few people tried to strike up a conversation with her but she ignored them, John made some hasty excuses as he followed her.
Only in the privacy of the car that would take them back did Lydia finally speak up again. “That god-slaying cunt!” John almost jumped at the sudden exclamation. Words, like a hammer on an anvil, kept crashing. “Arrogant prick, hijacking hundreds of years of his own non-intervention policy to put an obstacle in my way. SHIT!” she kicked the table in the middle, glass and plastic rattled as the bottles were violently shaken.
Then there was silence. John waited for a bit before carefully suggesting, “All this means is that you are now at the point where you thought you would be, right? The tournament is happening, as you prepared for.” Lydia shot him an angry glance and was about to start one of her lectures when she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Lydia crossed her arms. Fingers danced over the long sleeves that covered her upper arms. Under the table, her heel audibly tapped the ground again and again. John saw the vibrations in the bottles of water. Whatever the princess was thinking about did a terrible job at calming her down.
Her eyes flew open, she slammed a hand on the table and rose. Her arm rushed forward and grabbed John by the collar. The Gamer was pulled up and straight into a kiss with Lydia. It was crude, rushed and more surprising than sensual, but it did the trick. He met her demanding tongue in kind, slowly helping her ease out of her rage.
When she sat down again, her wrath had been moved to the background. “You are correct,” she said in a collected voice, losing not a single syllable over what had just happened. “Everything will proceed as originally anticipated… Where is Rave?” Lydia only now noticed the techno-lover’s missing presence.
“About to enter,” John, who was signaling his position to Aclysia, answered.
True enough a moment later she opened the door and the remaining trio took their seats. “How ya doing, Lydia,” Rave asked. To see her actually take the effort to not get on the princess’ nerves made John proud of the little social tact she had.
“I will manage, don’t waste your niceness on me,” Lydia waved off. “I will continue forward until there is no greater height for me and my people to reach.”
“Nice, that’s how ya go about things, Lyly,” Rave instantly switched back into her usual gears.
“If I may intervene,” Aclysia entered the conversation. “Master has several questions he gathered during the election. I would like to present them to you, your grace.”
Lydia gestured to her to continue. “Go ahead. I can use the distraction.”
“Romulus used different titles to refer to the same positions you mentioned before, princess, why is that?” Aclysia said.
“The titles I have been using up until now are the ones we use for matters of inner diplomacy. Because we are a highly autonomous part of the empire, there is disagreement to what degree we are bound under his titles. However, on papers regarding international diplomacy, the titles he has used are correct,” Lydia swiftly explained.
“Candidatum Secundus is a title given to somebody fighting the claim of the Candidatum Primus?”
“Partly correct, in theory, everyone from a noble family could be elected, however the candidates are then broken down on a local level until only a few arrive at the top. I gathered a lot of support by being the non-Austrian candidate, therefore it was part of the introduction Romulus gave me. That and, apparently, he wanted to present me in a bad light.”
“How did you manage to get the duke of Saxony to forfeit his vote?”
“I grinded him down with gifts and promises for policies that would help his struggling economy, such as using the port of Lübeck free of charge, to push him into a position that he wanted to hold anyhow. Usual politics.”
“Do you know anything about Alexej Zeritr, the enemy's first fighter?” Aclysia presented her final question. John listened extra carefully to this one.
“No,” Lydia answered and massaged her forehead, “which is concerning on its own. He wore the robes of a servant family, is all I can tell. My investigations on this must start immediately. Therefore, I will return to our current residence. If you want to go elsewhere, you may now.”
John opened his menus and looked at the map the Horned Rat had given him. He was pretty close to that spa he was supposed to visit. “I have a Quest nearby that I want to take care of,” he said and closed the map again. “I’ll have to visit a spa.”
Lydia raised an eyebrow but left that uncommented. She simply pressed a button and the car came to a gradual halt.
“Mhm,” Rave’s head went to the right, “going to a spa sounds nice,” it swayed to the left, “but I also want to train that cat-form some more,” it swayed back to the right, to the left, to the right.
“You have 32 seconds to come to a decision,” Lydia informed Rave.
“What? Why are you so stingy with time?” Rave slurred.
“It is a valuable resource, and one I happen to be unable to increase without the help of a skilled Fateweaver. Those that I regularly work with are not available at this time. 12 seconds,” Lydia kept her steel eyes glued to the wandering hand of her clock.
“Fine, I’ll go and train!” Rave decided on a whim.
“Great, I’ll go read books,” Momo announced as Aclysia opened the door for John to leave the car. Outside, he pulled out his winter clothes, they were in the traffic tunnels so there was no reason to fear random onlookers. Aclysia also morphed.
“Well, actually, Lydia won’t have time, so you will have to look after Jane for me,” John told Momo and quickly left her behind.
The support’s mouth opened in shock. “Oy! That’s not fair! That’s not fa-.”
Aclysia slammed the door shut and closed herself off from her sister’s mental outcries. At the same time, she acted as an insulation between Momo and John. The Gamer couldn’t hear her anymore, although he was aware that she was complaining right now. “You know she will be angry with both of us once we get back home, right?” John asked as the car drove off.
“I am aware and fine with that, Master,” Aclysia said with a bow, taking his hand once her back was straight again. “The prospect of some more alone time, limited as it might be, is well worth the nagging.”
John smiled and kissed Aclysia.
Lydia opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. It was apparent to everyone that she had a hundred complaints and a dozen questions about that decision. She was not alone in this and all of them knew that the Apex would not tell them anything he did not wish to tell. There was only one answer to give.
“If that is your will, Emperor.”
“Apparently, Lydia pissed him off enough,” Rave whispered.
“Maybe… but we may have just witnessed one of the more important moments in Abyssal history,” John answered. A raised eyebrow indicated Rave’s confusion.
“Look at the people,” John made a low waving gesture. Very few people looked like they were happy with the vote that had just been declared, a lot of them actually looked angry, then there were the few that were seething, like the duke, who was still sitting in front of the table he had just destroyed. Of course, no one dared to speak up, the man on his throne could have annihilated all of the attendees by himself.
“Lydia wasn’t all that smart to try and fight Romulus, but Romulus just kicked the autonomy he has granted the Germans down. He has every right to, their constitution says so, but that doesn’t mean that the people will be happy with this. They feel disrespected. Today might be the starting point of some separatism movement,” John explained. Pointing at the duke of Saxony he added, “which is probably why that unity loving guy over there is angry as hell, separatism likes to come with civil strife.”
Rave, very slowly nodded. “What does that mean for us, tiger?” she wanted to know.
“It means we do what we promised Lydia to do… and afterwards we will see if sticking around is in our best interest,” he smiled. As a bit of a cynical joke, he added, “We are Americans, if we get involved with other people’s civil wars, then only ‘cause we cause them… or because they have something we want.”
“Or to protect them from evil commies,” Rave giggled.
The two patron goddesses that were contracted to the emperor walked down the stairs and towards the candidates. Luna went to Lydia, while Sol went over to Maximillian. The Austrian candidate had reclaimed his cocky smile, although he still was a bit pale. If he was as outraged as the rest of the gathered Germans, he hid it well enough for John to not be able to tell. The clenched fists under the table were a sign of something though.
‘If he gets to the throne he will only have managed it thanks to Romulus’ grace on this day,’ John thought while the two goddesses retreated from the candidates. ‘Whether what Lydia said earlier was true or not, Maximillian is now indebted to Romulus… but if he wants to rule there is nothing that will make him pull back now.’
John knew the feeling of taking whatever straw promised the slightest bit of safety. In a situation like this, it was all or nothing for Maximillian. He couldn’t step back without angering his supporters, he couldn’t accept without angering his people. At least he got to rule in the latter proposition though. There was no choice for him but to push through.
“The candidates shall now proceed to announce their first fighters,” Romulus declared. “To prevent last minute changes from either candidate, the names will be presented simultaneously.” The goddesses stretched out their hands and the numerals within the circles above were replaced with names.
He saw his own one in silver letters, John Newman, presented to the world. God only knew how many people were watching this. “Well, there goes my last bit of anonymity, I guess,” John sighed.
“Don’t worry, ya will get through it,” Rave winked and held his hand.
John looked over to the other bubble. Alexej Zeritr, it spelled out. A pretty Slavic first name, although John had no idea where the later part came from. “Fighters, step forth,” Romulus gestured.
“Here goes hoping I don’t trip over my own feet,” John said and kissed Rave.
“I’ll laugh the loudest, so ya can ignore everyone else,” she told him.
“Truly the love of my life, what did I do to deserve you,” he drily commented before walking off.
Eyes followed John, as he walked up to the table. The front rows inspected him with a degree of recognition, the backrows mumbled. Attention was split quite evenly between him and his opposite.
Alexej wore a simple brown monk robe similar to the one the Czech elector had. It was probably safe to assume that he was from the same area. He was a short guy, light blonde, short hair, and not plain in the looks department. Dark green eyes stared back at John, a smile underneath. When the Gamer attempted to use Observe, it only earned him a two-second-long, violent headache.
‘The same effect as that spine, but less potent,’ he noted. Whoever this was, was extremely skilled at information manipulation. A blond guy with green eyes, skilled at information blocking, similar to that nazi-spine-thingy, who seemed to know John. There was an inkling at the back of John’s head, but he chose to push it down. ‘There is no reason for SecretBlonde to come out here after hiding for so long,’ John told himself, while also making sure that he remembered to look up this guy by telling Aclysia and Momo to remind him.
He felt Momo’s mild annoyance at being used as a mental notepad, but she didn’t raise a complaint. John stepped to Lydia’s side with Alexej on Maximillian’s side. “Are those the fighters you have chosen?” Romulus asked in a ritualistic fashion.
“Yes, Emperor of Kings,” Maximillian was eager to answer.
“Yes,” Lydia kept it short, her hands folded behind her back, spine straight.
“Are you willing to fight for these candidates?” the seated giant continued.
“Of course, why would I not?” Alexej answered with a wink towards John and Lydia. “It will probably be a lot of fun.”
“Yes, I will fight for Princess Lydia,” John kept it on point. He did not feel at home in front of the crowd. The quicker he got this over with, and out of the spotlight, the happier he would be. Right now, he felt like a toad in a desert, hoping it would turn out to just be a sandy lake shore instead.
He felt Lydia shove her foot against his. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but Lydia didn’t even turn her head. It took him a moment. “Also, I will use a golem to fight at my side,” John quickly spoke out.
“Show it to us then,” Romulus demanded.
‘I don’t want to,’ came the words from Momo.
‘Well, it is too late for that, young lady!’ John almost screeched in his mind. ‘If I have to be up here, so do you.’
‘YOU’RE NOT MY DAD – NOT IN ANY WAY THAT MATTERS!’ Momo shouted back and a moment later stepped up to his side with an empty expression. The world would, and should, never know the mental bickering that continued in their heads.
“This is her, Momo,” John said.
The giant nodded. “I see and accept. You two will be the first fighters chosen for the eighth tournament of succession, my congratulations for this honour,” Romulus clapped his hands, his goddesses following the motion a moment later. The sounds echoed through the silent room. Reluctantly, the seething masses did the same and underwhelming applause filled the cathedral.
‘I don’t know what is more uncomfortable, the bad mood or just standing here right now,’ John thought, repressing the urge to awkwardly scratch his neck.
The applause died quickly and Romulus rose from his throne. “The choices of this day are made. The following three days will see the announcement of the remaining candidates. Tomorrow, two announcements will be made. The days after that, one each. We gather after the bell has announced noon.” Walking as he talked, Romulus headed for the exit. His presence remained dominating, until he vanished in the doorframe. The moment he was gone, so were the cameras.
John let out the air he held in his lungs and breathed in freely. His relaxation was short-lived, however. “Come with me,” Lydia instructed and she marched off at a speed barely below running. A few people tried to strike up a conversation with her but she ignored them, John made some hasty excuses as he followed her.
Only in the privacy of the car that would take them back did Lydia finally speak up again. “That god-slaying cunt!” John almost jumped at the sudden exclamation. Words, like a hammer on an anvil, kept crashing. “Arrogant prick, hijacking hundreds of years of his own non-intervention policy to put an obstacle in my way. SHIT!” she kicked the table in the middle, glass and plastic rattled as the bottles were violently shaken.
Then there was silence. John waited for a bit before carefully suggesting, “All this means is that you are now at the point where you thought you would be, right? The tournament is happening, as you prepared for.” Lydia shot him an angry glance and was about to start one of her lectures when she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Lydia crossed her arms. Fingers danced over the long sleeves that covered her upper arms. Under the table, her heel audibly tapped the ground again and again. John saw the vibrations in the bottles of water. Whatever the princess was thinking about did a terrible job at calming her down.
Her eyes flew open, she slammed a hand on the table and rose. Her arm rushed forward and grabbed John by the collar. The Gamer was pulled up and straight into a kiss with Lydia. It was crude, rushed and more surprising than sensual, but it did the trick. He met her demanding tongue in kind, slowly helping her ease out of her rage.
When she sat down again, her wrath had been moved to the background. “You are correct,” she said in a collected voice, losing not a single syllable over what had just happened. “Everything will proceed as originally anticipated… Where is Rave?” Lydia only now noticed the techno-lover’s missing presence.
“About to enter,” John, who was signaling his position to Aclysia, answered.
True enough a moment later she opened the door and the remaining trio took their seats. “How ya doing, Lydia,” Rave asked. To see her actually take the effort to not get on the princess’ nerves made John proud of the little social tact she had.
“I will manage, don’t waste your niceness on me,” Lydia waved off. “I will continue forward until there is no greater height for me and my people to reach.”
“Nice, that’s how ya go about things, Lyly,” Rave instantly switched back into her usual gears.
“If I may intervene,” Aclysia entered the conversation. “Master has several questions he gathered during the election. I would like to present them to you, your grace.”
Lydia gestured to her to continue. “Go ahead. I can use the distraction.”
“Romulus used different titles to refer to the same positions you mentioned before, princess, why is that?” Aclysia said.
“The titles I have been using up until now are the ones we use for matters of inner diplomacy. Because we are a highly autonomous part of the empire, there is disagreement to what degree we are bound under his titles. However, on papers regarding international diplomacy, the titles he has used are correct,” Lydia swiftly explained.
“Candidatum Secundus is a title given to somebody fighting the claim of the Candidatum Primus?”
“Partly correct, in theory, everyone from a noble family could be elected, however the candidates are then broken down on a local level until only a few arrive at the top. I gathered a lot of support by being the non-Austrian candidate, therefore it was part of the introduction Romulus gave me. That and, apparently, he wanted to present me in a bad light.”
“How did you manage to get the duke of Saxony to forfeit his vote?”
“I grinded him down with gifts and promises for policies that would help his struggling economy, such as using the port of Lübeck free of charge, to push him into a position that he wanted to hold anyhow. Usual politics.”
“Do you know anything about Alexej Zeritr, the enemy's first fighter?” Aclysia presented her final question. John listened extra carefully to this one.
“No,” Lydia answered and massaged her forehead, “which is concerning on its own. He wore the robes of a servant family, is all I can tell. My investigations on this must start immediately. Therefore, I will return to our current residence. If you want to go elsewhere, you may now.”
John opened his menus and looked at the map the Horned Rat had given him. He was pretty close to that spa he was supposed to visit. “I have a Quest nearby that I want to take care of,” he said and closed the map again. “I’ll have to visit a spa.”
Lydia raised an eyebrow but left that uncommented. She simply pressed a button and the car came to a gradual halt.
“Mhm,” Rave’s head went to the right, “going to a spa sounds nice,” it swayed to the left, “but I also want to train that cat-form some more,” it swayed back to the right, to the left, to the right.
“You have 32 seconds to come to a decision,” Lydia informed Rave.
“What? Why are you so stingy with time?” Rave slurred.
“It is a valuable resource, and one I happen to be unable to increase without the help of a skilled Fateweaver. Those that I regularly work with are not available at this time. 12 seconds,” Lydia kept her steel eyes glued to the wandering hand of her clock.
“Fine, I’ll go and train!” Rave decided on a whim.
“Great, I’ll go read books,” Momo announced as Aclysia opened the door for John to leave the car. Outside, he pulled out his winter clothes, they were in the traffic tunnels so there was no reason to fear random onlookers. Aclysia also morphed.
“Well, actually, Lydia won’t have time, so you will have to look after Jane for me,” John told Momo and quickly left her behind.
The support’s mouth opened in shock. “Oy! That’s not fair! That’s not fa-.”
Aclysia slammed the door shut and closed herself off from her sister’s mental outcries. At the same time, she acted as an insulation between Momo and John. The Gamer couldn’t hear her anymore, although he was aware that she was complaining right now. “You know she will be angry with both of us once we get back home, right?” John asked as the car drove off.
“I am aware and fine with that, Master,” Aclysia said with a bow, taking his hand once her back was straight again. “The prospect of some more alone time, limited as it might be, is well worth the nagging.”
John smiled and kissed Aclysia.
