ACT V
THE GLORY WARS
I was sick for a week, took a break, drank a lot of water and came back with more energy. I can't promise but I'll try to update twice this week.
Recalling everything Dietrich had advised him, he asked Vanir, “ Hey junior, it's time I fulfil the promise I made you.” Those words gave Vanir sparkling eyes. Hans had prolonged the promise to provide him with the divine-grade healing potion, for whoever he wished to heal with the excuse of high brewing time. He wanted to test Vanir more before granting his wish. However, Dietrich’s words influenced his thinking. He took a long breath and asked Vanir, which he usually has avoided before, “But, you have to tell me your story first?”
"I believed you had no interest," Vanir stammered, his confusion evident. "Wasn't it merely an exchange for my servitude, senior?"
“Yes, it was.” Hans acknowledged with a nod. “But a wise man made me think otherwise. I am interested now.” These words left Vanir even more bewildered. He feared that Hans might change his mind once he heard his story. Hesitation painted across his face, his voice quivered as he spoke, "Seni... senior... I..."
Hearing him stutter, Hans reassured him, “Don’t worry, even if you turn out not fit for what I want. I’ll still help you.” he said, showing a reliable expression, turning Vanir to his previous self. “I'm capable of sweet talking too..” While he was busy praising himself, Vanir took his time collecting his words and stated, “It's nothing grand but the typical nobles suppressing commoners, senior.”
“Still, I wish to know,” Hans stressed, so Vanir began his story, “Unlike you... I mean humans, there are three levels in the hierarchy of Clandor - high elves, nobles, and commoners. You know it, right?” Hans nodded, and Vanir continued, “I was born in the outskirts, the south of Clandor, a barony. We didn’t have much, but we were content. My father served the Baron Zinwen as a grade 40 knight. But it all changed when I showed talent in spell crafting. My father was so happy, but my talent overshadowed the lord's son. After that, my spell formula was stolen from me, and somehow Zinwen’s heir was acknowledged as its creator. I was fuming, filled with anger, but I couldn’t do much.”
“Why didn’t you report his ass off to the higher nobles,” Hans asked, agitated, but Vanir's sudden chuckle confused him. “Pft... Now I am sure. You are not someone who had his share of hardships.” Looking down, he continued, “When you are born in the lower hierarchy, even when you say the truth, once a noble denies it. It becomes a lie, senior.”
“That is absurd —”
“Yes, it is. But that's how the world works, senior. Equality sounds good to hear, but division happens in people. If not by class, it will be by wealth. You cannot erase the discrimination, climbing up the ladder with a vain hope that it gets better someday is only an option for people like me. But even that comes with challenges."
“I thought they made the laws to avoid these things, and looking from the top, it also felt like a perfect system. But you are contradicting my beliefs junior.” Hans said wondering, how much nonsense he could utter. "Looking from the top, I don't know a jack about laws. Empathy Hans, connect with him." Heaving he focused on Vanir's ongoing words. “...Laws protect the strong and prey on the weak, senior.”
“What happened then,” Hans asked him to continue.
“I was considered a genius in theorising the formulas, and when the Baron found out about his son stealing my credit. He called me through my father and asked me to continue doing my work. I kept theorising like a fool, hoping to get credit somewhere along but that day never came, they kept stealing my efforts. But I couldn't take it anymore, and one day I got greedy. I wanted my accomplishment to be mine. So bypassing the Baron, I sent the formula to the magic tower, but what came as a reply was me trying to claim little Baron’s work. I was accused, and my greed cost my father his job.”
“What a pathetic bunch, you should have killed those bastards.”
“Believe me, I wanted to. But I neither had power nor standing in Elven society.” Vanir responded, his suppressed anger covering his face, continuing, “If that was not enough, they stopped everyone from hiring my father, and debt came out of nowhere, making us broke in one night. My home was so small, and we even lost that. That's what happens when a commoner gets greedy.”
“Yikes, then who lost the leg, Don’t get me wrong —”
“When we were driven out of Barony. A noble died, and the Lord framed it on my father. He was interrogated day and night, and when my father lost his mind, they sent him back. But those bastards,” Vanir suppressed his rage, “Their torture paralysed my father from the spine. He was my hero, you know! No matter what, he was there for me, even when he knew that going to the mage tower would bring backlash, but he supported me. Now he has a broken mind, a pair of useless legs and always moistened eyes.”
“Then you should have at least submitted a complaint to the royals. They are obliged to listen as far as I know about you pointy ears." Those words made Vanir laugh so severely that he almost rolled, but not because of Hans mocking his kind by the ear shape. He explained after a while, “Royals only care how much power they can control, standing up against a noble and sending them to another faction. That's not how they work senior.”
“So the baron was from the Royal’s side.”
“You catch on quick, senior. Since Clandor is still a diarchy. Royals take very cautious steps.”
Hans understood his situation, Vanir was just a twelve-year-old, a genius who had his misfortune because of his gifted mind. A young boy wanted recognition but ended up in this pathetic state because of it. But he still wanted to confirm one thing from him, so he asked in a deep voice, “So, what you are seeking here is revenge or is your father’s health?"
“I learned my lesson, senior. I won’t go against a noble. I just want my father to at least walk on his feet. I am told that his mind is beyond recovery.” Vanir got down on his knees, fearing Hans to back down from his words. He had done this many times, growling in front of healers, creditors and other nobles that his pride had left him some time ago. “I don’t know how high your standing is, but please help me, senior?”
An elven prodigy, formulating complex spells since the age of ten. He would have earned his respect, but his growling and begging for help gave a bitter taste in Hans’s mouth. “Let's cancel the slave contract —” These words felt like a bolt out of the blue to Vanir, his fears on the verge of realisation, all he could think of was Hans changing his mind. However, there was nothing he could offer to him except himself. Crying, he hugged Hans’s legs and started begging more desperately.
“Listen to me first stupid,” Hans kicked him back, “I didn’t say I won’t help you.”
“Then, you’d help me,” his eyes sparkled like before, but then sudden confusion clouded them, “What could I possibly have to offer in exchange? I have learned there is nothing free in this world,” he asked Hans and received a response. “What I want from you is something that can’t be bought.”
“Then tell me already —”
“Do you even know who I am?” Hans asked, but Vanir was not capable of choosing right now. He struggled, selling his talents to scholars and working in their name. That's how a ten-year-old sustained his house and kept his family fed for two years. “Even if you are a devil from hell, and want my soul. I’ll do it.”
“Devil from hell sounds cool, but I’m not. I was born in a war. A child born out of purpose rather than love. Some want my head for things my father did, some covet his power, some are after his wealth and since he is dead. All are aiming for my neck." Hans thought before disclosing, This is a bad idea, but a secret must be shared for the bond to grow tighter. The words of Dietrich ring on his head again, and he reintroduced himself, "I am Hans, son of the Parvian king Samson.”
“Haa... Devil from the hell would have been a good choice, senior.” Vanir's response and tone were lukewarm, startling Hans, so he stressed, “If you stand by me, you will be declared as a traitor of your kind. So, you still want my help?”
“My kind, they never helped me. Instead, the one who used me. The people who were meant to protect me framed me. They straight up sent us to hell, senior.”
“Fine, I'll tell you, what I seek from you is an ally. A loyal subordinate that I could count on. I’ll always be in danger, and so will the people following me. The strongest of every other place will come after me, and you have to stand against them, defending me. You understand, right?”
“I take back the hardship comment,” Vanir said, still not believing that he was in front of the enemy of Clandor. Yet, sighing he continued, “It seems like people born in power have their fair share of trouble to deal with, senior. Do you think I can grow strong enough to protect you?”
“I have to make you one,“ Hans spoke his arrogance and confidence on another level. Almost convincing Vanir, “Then promise me senior, you’ll become the strongest so I never have to bow before anyone but you.”
“That’s my end goal anyway, Vanir. I do not need to promise that.”
“Then I promise you, Hans Parv. I’ll do everything in my power to not disappoint you. I'll grow strong, so strong that no one can touch you.” Hans smirked, nodding and acknowledging Vanir, and responded, “And I promise you, a revenge befitting your sufferings. I’ll burn that Baronyto the ground myself. No people of mine will have lumps in their hearts. It might sound cringe, but, Be greedy. That's your right since I’m your Lord.”
Vanir did not know himself, but being selected in House Prophet meant they had strong leadership qualities or the potential to become an earth-shattering entity. Both didn’t know what the future had in store for them, but Hans was getting a feeling that choosing Vanir was one of the wisest decisions he had made, and that’s how he got his first subordinate, the future master of Moon Tower, the commander of mage force of Parv.
Announcement
NEXT : THREE BIRDS ONE STONE
ACT V
THE GLORY WARS
I was sick for a week, took a break, drank a lot of water and came back with more energy. I can't promise but I'll try to update twice this week.
Recalling everything Dietrich had advised him, he asked Vanir, “ Hey junior, it's time I fulfil the promise I made you.” Those words gave Vanir sparkling eyes. Hans had prolonged the promise to provide him with the divine-grade healing potion, for whoever he wished to heal with the excuse of high brewing time. He wanted to test Vanir more before granting his wish. However, Dietrich’s words influenced his thinking. He took a long breath and asked Vanir, which he usually has avoided before, “But, you have to tell me your story first?”
"I believed you had no interest," Vanir stammered, his confusion evident. "Wasn't it merely an exchange for my servitude, senior?"
“Yes, it was.” Hans acknowledged with a nod. “But a wise man made me think otherwise. I am interested now.” These words left Vanir even more bewildered. He feared that Hans might change his mind once he heard his story. Hesitation painted across his face, his voice quivered as he spoke, "Seni... senior... I..."
Hearing him stutter, Hans reassured him, “Don’t worry, even if you turn out not fit for what I want. I’ll still help you.” he said, showing a reliable expression, turning Vanir to his previous self. “I'm capable of sweet talking too..” While he was busy praising himself, Vanir took his time collecting his words and stated, “It's nothing grand but the typical nobles suppressing commoners, senior.”
“Still, I wish to know,” Hans stressed, so Vanir began his story, “Unlike you... I mean humans, there are three levels in the hierarchy of Clandor - high elves, nobles, and commoners. You know it, right?” Hans nodded, and Vanir continued, “I was born in the outskirts, the south of Clandor, a barony. We didn’t have much, but we were content. My father served the Baron Zinwen as a grade 40 knight. But it all changed when I showed talent in spell crafting. My father was so happy, but my talent overshadowed the lord's son. After that, my spell formula was stolen from me, and somehow Zinwen’s heir was acknowledged as its creator. I was fuming, filled with anger, but I couldn’t do much.”
“Why didn’t you report his ass off to the higher nobles,” Hans asked, agitated, but Vanir's sudden chuckle confused him. “Pft... Now I am sure. You are not someone who had his share of hardships.” Looking down, he continued, “When you are born in the lower hierarchy, even when you say the truth, once a noble denies it. It becomes a lie, senior.”
“That is absurd —”
“Yes, it is. But that's how the world works, senior. Equality sounds good to hear, but division happens in people. If not by class, it will be by wealth. You cannot erase the discrimination, climbing up the ladder with a vain hope that it gets better someday is only an option for people like me. But even that comes with challenges."
“I thought they made the laws to avoid these things, and looking from the top, it also felt like a perfect system. But you are contradicting my beliefs junior.” Hans said wondering, how much nonsense he could utter. "Looking from the top, I don't know a jack about laws. Empathy Hans, connect with him." Heaving he focused on Vanir's ongoing words. “...Laws protect the strong and prey on the weak, senior.”
“What happened then,” Hans asked him to continue.
“I was considered a genius in theorising the formulas, and when the Baron found out about his son stealing my credit. He called me through my father and asked me to continue doing my work. I kept theorising like a fool, hoping to get credit somewhere along but that day never came, they kept stealing my efforts. But I couldn't take it anymore, and one day I got greedy. I wanted my accomplishment to be mine. So bypassing the Baron, I sent the formula to the magic tower, but what came as a reply was me trying to claim little Baron’s work. I was accused, and my greed cost my father his job.”
“What a pathetic bunch, you should have killed those bastards.”
“Believe me, I wanted to. But I neither had power nor standing in Elven society.” Vanir responded, his suppressed anger covering his face, continuing, “If that was not enough, they stopped everyone from hiring my father, and debt came out of nowhere, making us broke in one night. My home was so small, and we even lost that. That's what happens when a commoner gets greedy.”
“Yikes, then who lost the leg, Don’t get me wrong —”
“When we were driven out of Barony. A noble died, and the Lord framed it on my father. He was interrogated day and night, and when my father lost his mind, they sent him back. But those bastards,” Vanir suppressed his rage, “Their torture paralysed my father from the spine. He was my hero, you know! No matter what, he was there for me, even when he knew that going to the mage tower would bring backlash, but he supported me. Now he has a broken mind, a pair of useless legs and always moistened eyes.”
“Then you should have at least submitted a complaint to the royals. They are obliged to listen as far as I know about you pointy ears." Those words made Vanir laugh so severely that he almost rolled, but not because of Hans mocking his kind by the ear shape. He explained after a while, “Royals only care how much power they can control, standing up against a noble and sending them to another faction. That's not how they work senior.”
“So the baron was from the Royal’s side.”
“You catch on quick, senior. Since Clandor is still a diarchy. Royals take very cautious steps.”
Hans understood his situation, Vanir was just a twelve-year-old, a genius who had his misfortune because of his gifted mind. A young boy wanted recognition but ended up in this pathetic state because of it. But he still wanted to confirm one thing from him, so he asked in a deep voice, “So, what you are seeking here is revenge or is your father’s health?"
“I learned my lesson, senior. I won’t go against a noble. I just want my father to at least walk on his feet. I am told that his mind is beyond recovery.” Vanir got down on his knees, fearing Hans to back down from his words. He had done this many times, growling in front of healers, creditors and other nobles that his pride had left him some time ago. “I don’t know how high your standing is, but please help me, senior?”
An elven prodigy, formulating complex spells since the age of ten. He would have earned his respect, but his growling and begging for help gave a bitter taste in Hans’s mouth. “Let's cancel the slave contract —” These words felt like a bolt out of the blue to Vanir, his fears on the verge of realisation, all he could think of was Hans changing his mind. However, there was nothing he could offer to him except himself. Crying, he hugged Hans’s legs and started begging more desperately.
“Listen to me first stupid,” Hans kicked him back, “I didn’t say I won’t help you.”
“Then, you’d help me,” his eyes sparkled like before, but then sudden confusion clouded them, “What could I possibly have to offer in exchange? I have learned there is nothing free in this world,” he asked Hans and received a response. “What I want from you is something that can’t be bought.”
“Then tell me already —”
“Do you even know who I am?” Hans asked, but Vanir was not capable of choosing right now. He struggled, selling his talents to scholars and working in their name. That's how a ten-year-old sustained his house and kept his family fed for two years. “Even if you are a devil from hell, and want my soul. I’ll do it.”
“Devil from hell sounds cool, but I’m not. I was born in a war. A child born out of purpose rather than love. Some want my head for things my father did, some covet his power, some are after his wealth and since he is dead. All are aiming for my neck." Hans thought before disclosing, This is a bad idea, but a secret must be shared for the bond to grow tighter. The words of Dietrich ring on his head again, and he reintroduced himself, "I am Hans, son of the Parvian king Samson.”
“Haa... Devil from the hell would have been a good choice, senior.” Vanir's response and tone were lukewarm, startling Hans, so he stressed, “If you stand by me, you will be declared as a traitor of your kind. So, you still want my help?”
“My kind, they never helped me. Instead, the one who used me. The people who were meant to protect me framed me. They straight up sent us to hell, senior.”
“Fine, I'll tell you, what I seek from you is an ally. A loyal subordinate that I could count on. I’ll always be in danger, and so will the people following me. The strongest of every other place will come after me, and you have to stand against them, defending me. You understand, right?”
“I take back the hardship comment,” Vanir said, still not believing that he was in front of the enemy of Clandor. Yet, sighing he continued, “It seems like people born in power have their fair share of trouble to deal with, senior. Do you think I can grow strong enough to protect you?”
“I have to make you one,“ Hans spoke his arrogance and confidence on another level. Almost convincing Vanir, “Then promise me senior, you’ll become the strongest so I never have to bow before anyone but you.”
“That’s my end goal anyway, Vanir. I do not need to promise that.”
“Then I promise you, Hans Parv. I’ll do everything in my power to not disappoint you. I'll grow strong, so strong that no one can touch you.” Hans smirked, nodding and acknowledging Vanir, and responded, “And I promise you, a revenge befitting your sufferings. I’ll burn that Baronyto the ground myself. No people of mine will have lumps in their hearts. It might sound cringe, but, Be greedy. That's your right since I’m your Lord.”
Vanir did not know himself, but being selected in House Prophet meant they had strong leadership qualities or the potential to become an earth-shattering entity. Both didn’t know what the future had in store for them, but Hans was getting a feeling that choosing Vanir was one of the wisest decisions he had made, and that’s how he got his first subordinate, the future master of Moon Tower, the commander of mage force of Parv.
Announcement
NEXT : THREE BIRDS ONE STONE
