There were so many other things that Goren wished he were doing right now. Fighting hell beasts, reading the latest IDM conversion formulas, even listening to the Master of Illusion’s irritating voice would be better than this.
This was excruciating.
He squeezed the edge of the round table so hard that his fingers buried deep into the wood, drawing looks from Paulus and a few other nobodies. Better the table than the ignorant king, who didn’t even notice the act of vandalism. Although he wished it was Aldric between his fingers.
The meeting had been a complete waste of time so far; how dare he speak of unity and prosperity while his actions threatened to undo centuries of cooperation with Nozia?
Increasing tariffs. “Pfft.” A blunt and short-sighted move. One that made black market smugglers grow rich while legitimate traders starve. Essential goods no longer flowed between our nations. Our research projects, so promising, now foundered without crucial materials. And the military posturing?
Also a waste of time.
What did the boy King hope to gain? Though, by human standards the correct term would be ‘senile.’
Monsters were destroying towns while the only thing his ‘strategic’ border exercises accomplished was antagonizing our allies.
His cup was being refilled again, and he snatched it and gulped it down a moment before the server poured the last drop.
“Fill it up again. You’re too slow to make your round around the table.” Goren almost felt bad for taking it out on the server—there were a lot of people and it was a big table after all. But now came talk of funding fringe groups across the border.
The pitcher shook violently as it dropped wine into the cup clasped in the elf’s grip. But the poor server held it as tight as he could with both hands while seeing Goren’s ‘spill one drop of wine on my robe and I will kill you’ look reflected on the pitcher’s polished silver.
Does Aldric wish to plunge Nozia into civil war? To what end? Goren thought that in his 378 years—nearing 379—he had seen every kind of political scheme there was. He was wrong.
This reeked of amateurish manipulation. It was a desperate ploy to manufacture a crisis as distraction from his blunders on a good day and the complete destruction of Daiyudura on a bad one.
He wondered if no one else saw through the lies Aldric spread through so-called “diplomatic backchannels.” Poisonous rumors designed to isolate Nozia while Aldric postured as aggrieved victim. The sanctions and condemnations were farcical—Nozia had given no cause for such actions.
Withdrawing from treaties and pacts without warning or discussion?
Did our oaths and signatures mean so little?
Goren couldn’t answer any of these questions.
Decades
Of trust and unity tossed aside on royal whim, deals that had benefited both their nations immeasurably. Nozia’s magician academics would not forget this insult soon.
Could the others at that table not see the recklessness behind Aldric’s actions? Perhaps some inkling of strategy linked these disastrous policies, but Goren sensed a less rational impulse guiding the King’s decisions. Whatever the case, relations strained to the breaking point and Daiyudura’s people would suffer the consequences. Goren questioned whether the boy King grasped this truth. Likely not.
He hoped Paulus’s plan worked. Else, he would have to do things.
The king slammed yet another useless decree onto the table.
The perpetually bored stare of young Kota remained locked upon his book, the prodigy clearly having better uses for his time than indulging their posturing ruler.
“Chancellor, report on the conquest of the Kenibit’ lands. Have we secured them?”
“Sire, we were making progress, but... the Broken-Chain Berserker deserted mid-battle. Our troops had to retreat.”
“Put a bounty on Shagal. Five hundred gold pieces—make it a thousand.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Goren wasn’t expecting the half-orc to take the easy way out of this preposterous situation, nor did he blame her, nor care. On the bright side, now he could kill her himself, if she were foolish enough to cross his path.
Perhaps he should do as Old Paulus, who seemed unperturbed, idly stroking his beard as he waited for this farce to end.
“And Nozia? Have they accepted the terms of our new treaty?”
“They... they have not, Your Grace.”
“Of course they haven’t! Your demands are outrageous, Aldric!”
Goren knew his outburst was futile, but after today’s disgraceful display, there was no more delicate politics.
“Sit down, elf. Actually, where are you in locating Kaito?”
That name, yet again. Goren trembled with sudden fury, his mind flooded by unwelcome visions of the wandering vagrant who so beguiled Aldric. Kaito! As if that layabout held the key to Daiyudura’s salvation! He longed to strike the smug satisfaction from the royal face.
“This is madness, Aldric! You’re driving Daiyudura to ruin! And what has you so obsessed with Kaito?”
“Goren! Sit down! I expect results, not outbursts.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Shagal crawled on hands and knees through the dense Kilford forest, each movement sending fresh waves of pain through her battered body. One eye was swollen shut, her lips split and caked with blood. Jagged gashes covered her arms and back where the kenibit matriarch had clawed her.
She should have died back there, but somehow she didn’t. Shagal glanced around warily, expecting troglodytes to ambush her in this forest at any moment. But the forest was still, no sign of trogs anywhere.
Had Goren come through and cleared them out? No, she dismissed the thought quickly. Goren had been too busy dancing for the king. More likely it had been Kaito’s doing. Another debt Shagal now owed her master. He probably did it to protect Calmo and Zeny.
At the thought of her friend, renewed energy flowed through Shagal’s battered body. Calmo was so close now, just a few miles east. Shagal hauled herself forward, wincing. She had to make it before she bled out completely.
She closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them multiple figures surrounded her. She blinked her one good eye, trying to bring them into focus. These were no troglodytes. She’d never seen these creatures and their insectoid features, but she could tell they were formidable. In her condition, if they came to harm her—which was the most obvious assumption—she was as good as dead.
“Master Kaito…help me!”
Maybe these monsters will ignore me.
Leaving a trail of dark blood behind her, Shagal pushed on through the pain. If she could just get to Calmo, everything would be alright. She repeated her cry for help like a mantra, using it to block out the screaming agony of her injuries. Calmo was within reach. Just a little further now…
And then something strange kept her from losing consciousness a little longer. The creatures spoke.
“Sir, do you think she’s really a disciple of the Great One?” said a white-colored creature.
“We haven’t been informed of any other disciples besides Master Jogid, but we shouldn’t draw any conclusions.”
“In her state, the orc shouldn’t be much of a threat, but don’t watch her closely.”
The one they called ‘Mandibula,’ a sleek looking creature with almost black armor scuttled forward, blocking her way. It settled its long, multi-jointed limbs into a crouch directly in front of her.
The creature’s magical energy hit her as if a gargantuan greicore had walked over her body. She had never felt so utterly powerless.
“We’ll help you, but don’t dare try anything foolish.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
King Aldric closed his eyes and breathed heavily. The so-called “heroes” of Daiyudura were nothing but incompetent fools.
First there was the half-orc who deserted the kingdom. Twice.
Aldric clenched his fists, cursing the whore’s name under his breath. That traitor had abandoned them all.
Then there was the imbecile Kota, barely more than a boy, who couldn’t focus on a task for more than a few heartbeats before ignoring it completely. Useless.
Aldric scowled as he thought of the doddering old wizard, who could hardly make it through a conversation without dozing off mid-sentence. The man’s mind was fading faster than his magic. Pathetic.
And don’t even get him started on that wild elf, Goren. He was an undisciplined mess, liable to disobey orders and question every single one of the king’s commands. If Aldric gritted his teeth any harder, they would fall off, and if it wasn’t for the prophecy, he would have had the lot of them executed long ago.
But he needed them, for now. Once he had Kaito, the prophecy would be fulfilled. Then there would be no more use for those bumbling misfits.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
“Are you looking to expedite your death? I suggest you release this illusion before I’m forced to do it myself, Paulus.”
Paulus shook his head, seeing that the years hadn’t made Goren any wiser.
“You have to calm down first, old friend.” They were inside Paulus’s Arcanum Chrono-Isolation, a space created by combining Time IDM with secondary influences of Shadow IDM for the illusionary aspect and a trace of Mind IDM for selective interaction creating a stasis in which time is frozen—in other words, a convenient place to have private conversations.
“Calm down, you say? Do you not hear this fool?” Goren asked.
Paulus massaged his temples using two fingers on each side. He dreaded using his Arcanum Chrono-Isolation; he could never withstand the strange hissing sound from the real world filtering into his bubble for more than a few minutes.
“How can I, over all your yapping?”
“YOU—hrumph, you’re right. How’s the plan coming along?”
“All the building blocks are in place. Have you located Kaito?” Paulus instantly regretted asking.
“KAITO this, Kaito that. How can the presence of one man, who hasn’t even taken any action turn a whole kingdom to shit?”
He didn’t blame Goren at all; the whole thing was kind of ridiculous. But that was all the more reason why he was curious to meet this Kaito too—that, and also the fact that he was an ‘outworlder.’
But he couldn’t say that to the hard-headed elf.
“You have walked this rock longer than anyone, so you tell me the answer to that question. Regardless of what the reason is, you need to find him. Else, the plan fails. He’s the bait to uncover the King’s true agenda.”
“Fine, fine. Now take us out of this wretched space. Why do you even torture yourself with this spell, it is nauseating.”
“It is useful, for moments such as this, you see. But one more thing before we leave. If you want to find Kaito, track down Shagal.”
Goren rose from his seat, but sat back down, grunting. Paulus winced as well when the edges of the bubble began to fray like an abyss hogweed consuming a critter. It felt like the world was screaming in his ears.
“Why the half-orc? Did you plan all this?”
“I had a hunch she would find Kaito, so I may or may not have used a little spell to satisfy my curiosity. And well, she did. She’s headed to him right now.”
“You cunning fox…”
Paulus and Goren found themselves back in the throne room. The spell had ended. To everyone else, it was as if nothing had happened. Paulus chuckled watching Goren shake his head, steadying himself after the jarring transition, the poor elf unaccustomed to the aftereffects of the Arcanum Chrono-Isolation.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
What are these two idiots doing now? Kota thought, as a bubble of complex magical energy dissolved before him.
I’m confused. Do they think no one can hear them, or just the king? Oh well. Kota surmised the most obvious explanation: the old wizard didn’t have enough mana to contain his spirit. This made sense; after all, Paulus Novaillusio was weak. One hundred years practicing magic, and that’s his limit.
Even though Kota could hear them, annoyingly loud actually, because of the wizard’s dumb spell, he didn’t pay them any attention. Elemental Convergence: The Symphony of Interdimensional Forces, was exceedingly more interesting. M. A. Vael really outdid himself explaining the fusion of different elemental forces to create new, hybrid forms of mana. It was a theoretical master piece of frameworks and practical applications of manipulating elemental energies at an interdimensional level.
Suddenly, one of the guards stepped up next to King Aldric at the head of the large, round table.
“It is done, your majesty.”
King Aldric perked up.
“Show me!”
The guard reached into a sack and upended it onto the table. A head tumbled out, rolling twice before bumping to a stop near the king.
Its eyes staring blankly at Kota.
Kota glanced up briefly at the sound, mildly curious. The stump of what was left of his neck was caked with dried blood, and bits of flesh and bone that still clung to it.
Seeing whose head it was, he quickly lost interest and returned to his reading.
The guard on the other hand stood at attention and took a deep breath as sweat rolled down his neck.
“Your Majesty, there’s more...the prince was found dead in his quarters. He...he was crushed, sire. The scene was...it was gruesome.”
“Poor boy.”
“Your Majesty, if I may... Why such a permanent punishment for Reinoldus?” Chancellor Drikus asked. “It seems...excessive.”
“Traitorous actions demand severe consequences, Chancellor. Reinoldus knew Kaito’s whereabouts. His betrayal couldn’t be overlooked.”
“Your concerns about the hero are unnecessary, Aldric. I will bring him to you,” Goren said.
For the first time working alongside the Master of Illusion, he managed to impress Kota. Whatever Paulus told the elf worked, because Goren spoke calmly—almost calmly.
“As you should, Goren. And when you return, don’t forget to bring me a new table.”
There were so many other things that Goren wished he were doing right now. Fighting hell beasts, reading the latest IDM conversion formulas, even listening to the Master of Illusion’s irritating voice would be better than this.
This was excruciating.
He squeezed the edge of the round table so hard that his fingers buried deep into the wood, drawing looks from Paulus and a few other nobodies. Better the table than the ignorant king, who didn’t even notice the act of vandalism. Although he wished it was Aldric between his fingers.
The meeting had been a complete waste of time so far; how dare he speak of unity and prosperity while his actions threatened to undo centuries of cooperation with Nozia?
Increasing tariffs. “Pfft.” A blunt and short-sighted move. One that made black market smugglers grow rich while legitimate traders starve. Essential goods no longer flowed between our nations. Our research projects, so promising, now foundered without crucial materials. And the military posturing?
Also a waste of time.
What did the boy King hope to gain? Though, by human standards the correct term would be ‘senile.’
Monsters were destroying towns while the only thing his ‘strategic’ border exercises accomplished was antagonizing our allies.
His cup was being refilled again, and he snatched it and gulped it down a moment before the server poured the last drop.
“Fill it up again. You’re too slow to make your round around the table.” Goren almost felt bad for taking it out on the server—there were a lot of people and it was a big table after all. But now came talk of funding fringe groups across the border.
The pitcher shook violently as it dropped wine into the cup clasped in the elf’s grip. But the poor server held it as tight as he could with both hands while seeing Goren’s ‘spill one drop of wine on my robe and I will kill you’ look reflected on the pitcher’s polished silver.
Does Aldric wish to plunge Nozia into civil war? To what end? Goren thought that in his 378 years—nearing 379—he had seen every kind of political scheme there was. He was wrong.
This reeked of amateurish manipulation. It was a desperate ploy to manufacture a crisis as distraction from his blunders on a good day and the complete destruction of Daiyudura on a bad one.
He wondered if no one else saw through the lies Aldric spread through so-called “diplomatic backchannels.” Poisonous rumors designed to isolate Nozia while Aldric postured as aggrieved victim. The sanctions and condemnations were farcical—Nozia had given no cause for such actions.
Withdrawing from treaties and pacts without warning or discussion?
Did our oaths and signatures mean so little?
Goren couldn’t answer any of these questions.
Decades
Of trust and unity tossed aside on royal whim, deals that had benefited both their nations immeasurably. Nozia’s magician academics would not forget this insult soon.
Could the others at that table not see the recklessness behind Aldric’s actions? Perhaps some inkling of strategy linked these disastrous policies, but Goren sensed a less rational impulse guiding the King’s decisions. Whatever the case, relations strained to the breaking point and Daiyudura’s people would suffer the consequences. Goren questioned whether the boy King grasped this truth. Likely not.
He hoped Paulus’s plan worked. Else, he would have to do things.
The king slammed yet another useless decree onto the table.
The perpetually bored stare of young Kota remained locked upon his book, the prodigy clearly having better uses for his time than indulging their posturing ruler.
“Chancellor, report on the conquest of the Kenibit’ lands. Have we secured them?”
“Sire, we were making progress, but... the Broken-Chain Berserker deserted mid-battle. Our troops had to retreat.”
“Put a bounty on Shagal. Five hundred gold pieces—make it a thousand.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Goren wasn’t expecting the half-orc to take the easy way out of this preposterous situation, nor did he blame her, nor care. On the bright side, now he could kill her himself, if she were foolish enough to cross his path.
Perhaps he should do as Old Paulus, who seemed unperturbed, idly stroking his beard as he waited for this farce to end.
“And Nozia? Have they accepted the terms of our new treaty?”
“They... they have not, Your Grace.”
“Of course they haven’t! Your demands are outrageous, Aldric!”
Goren knew his outburst was futile, but after today’s disgraceful display, there was no more delicate politics.
“Sit down, elf. Actually, where are you in locating Kaito?”
That name, yet again. Goren trembled with sudden fury, his mind flooded by unwelcome visions of the wandering vagrant who so beguiled Aldric. Kaito! As if that layabout held the key to Daiyudura’s salvation! He longed to strike the smug satisfaction from the royal face.
“This is madness, Aldric! You’re driving Daiyudura to ruin! And what has you so obsessed with Kaito?”
“Goren! Sit down! I expect results, not outbursts.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Shagal crawled on hands and knees through the dense Kilford forest, each movement sending fresh waves of pain through her battered body. One eye was swollen shut, her lips split and caked with blood. Jagged gashes covered her arms and back where the kenibit matriarch had clawed her.
She should have died back there, but somehow she didn’t. Shagal glanced around warily, expecting troglodytes to ambush her in this forest at any moment. But the forest was still, no sign of trogs anywhere.
Had Goren come through and cleared them out? No, she dismissed the thought quickly. Goren had been too busy dancing for the king. More likely it had been Kaito’s doing. Another debt Shagal now owed her master. He probably did it to protect Calmo and Zeny.
At the thought of her friend, renewed energy flowed through Shagal’s battered body. Calmo was so close now, just a few miles east. Shagal hauled herself forward, wincing. She had to make it before she bled out completely.
She closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them multiple figures surrounded her. She blinked her one good eye, trying to bring them into focus. These were no troglodytes. She’d never seen these creatures and their insectoid features, but she could tell they were formidable. In her condition, if they came to harm her—which was the most obvious assumption—she was as good as dead.
“Master Kaito…help me!”
Maybe these monsters will ignore me.
Leaving a trail of dark blood behind her, Shagal pushed on through the pain. If she could just get to Calmo, everything would be alright. She repeated her cry for help like a mantra, using it to block out the screaming agony of her injuries. Calmo was within reach. Just a little further now…
And then something strange kept her from losing consciousness a little longer. The creatures spoke.
“Sir, do you think she’s really a disciple of the Great One?” said a white-colored creature.
“We haven’t been informed of any other disciples besides Master Jogid, but we shouldn’t draw any conclusions.”
“In her state, the orc shouldn’t be much of a threat, but don’t watch her closely.”
The one they called ‘Mandibula,’ a sleek looking creature with almost black armor scuttled forward, blocking her way. It settled its long, multi-jointed limbs into a crouch directly in front of her.
The creature’s magical energy hit her as if a gargantuan greicore had walked over her body. She had never felt so utterly powerless.
“We’ll help you, but don’t dare try anything foolish.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
King Aldric closed his eyes and breathed heavily. The so-called “heroes” of Daiyudura were nothing but incompetent fools.
First there was the half-orc who deserted the kingdom. Twice.
Aldric clenched his fists, cursing the whore’s name under his breath. That traitor had abandoned them all.
Then there was the imbecile Kota, barely more than a boy, who couldn’t focus on a task for more than a few heartbeats before ignoring it completely. Useless.
Aldric scowled as he thought of the doddering old wizard, who could hardly make it through a conversation without dozing off mid-sentence. The man’s mind was fading faster than his magic. Pathetic.
And don’t even get him started on that wild elf, Goren. He was an undisciplined mess, liable to disobey orders and question every single one of the king’s commands. If Aldric gritted his teeth any harder, they would fall off, and if it wasn’t for the prophecy, he would have had the lot of them executed long ago.
But he needed them, for now. Once he had Kaito, the prophecy would be fulfilled. Then there would be no more use for those bumbling misfits.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
“Are you looking to expedite your death? I suggest you release this illusion before I’m forced to do it myself, Paulus.”
Paulus shook his head, seeing that the years hadn’t made Goren any wiser.
“You have to calm down first, old friend.” They were inside Paulus’s Arcanum Chrono-Isolation, a space created by combining Time IDM with secondary influences of Shadow IDM for the illusionary aspect and a trace of Mind IDM for selective interaction creating a stasis in which time is frozen—in other words, a convenient place to have private conversations.
“Calm down, you say? Do you not hear this fool?” Goren asked.
Paulus massaged his temples using two fingers on each side. He dreaded using his Arcanum Chrono-Isolation; he could never withstand the strange hissing sound from the real world filtering into his bubble for more than a few minutes.
“How can I, over all your yapping?”
“YOU—hrumph, you’re right. How’s the plan coming along?”
“All the building blocks are in place. Have you located Kaito?” Paulus instantly regretted asking.
“KAITO this, Kaito that. How can the presence of one man, who hasn’t even taken any action turn a whole kingdom to shit?”
He didn’t blame Goren at all; the whole thing was kind of ridiculous. But that was all the more reason why he was curious to meet this Kaito too—that, and also the fact that he was an ‘outworlder.’
But he couldn’t say that to the hard-headed elf.
“You have walked this rock longer than anyone, so you tell me the answer to that question. Regardless of what the reason is, you need to find him. Else, the plan fails. He’s the bait to uncover the King’s true agenda.”
“Fine, fine. Now take us out of this wretched space. Why do you even torture yourself with this spell, it is nauseating.”
“It is useful, for moments such as this, you see. But one more thing before we leave. If you want to find Kaito, track down Shagal.”
Goren rose from his seat, but sat back down, grunting. Paulus winced as well when the edges of the bubble began to fray like an abyss hogweed consuming a critter. It felt like the world was screaming in his ears.
“Why the half-orc? Did you plan all this?”
“I had a hunch she would find Kaito, so I may or may not have used a little spell to satisfy my curiosity. And well, she did. She’s headed to him right now.”
“You cunning fox…”
Paulus and Goren found themselves back in the throne room. The spell had ended. To everyone else, it was as if nothing had happened. Paulus chuckled watching Goren shake his head, steadying himself after the jarring transition, the poor elf unaccustomed to the aftereffects of the Arcanum Chrono-Isolation.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
What are these two idiots doing now? Kota thought, as a bubble of complex magical energy dissolved before him.
I’m confused. Do they think no one can hear them, or just the king? Oh well. Kota surmised the most obvious explanation: the old wizard didn’t have enough mana to contain his spirit. This made sense; after all, Paulus Novaillusio was weak. One hundred years practicing magic, and that’s his limit.
Even though Kota could hear them, annoyingly loud actually, because of the wizard’s dumb spell, he didn’t pay them any attention. Elemental Convergence: The Symphony of Interdimensional Forces, was exceedingly more interesting. M. A. Vael really outdid himself explaining the fusion of different elemental forces to create new, hybrid forms of mana. It was a theoretical master piece of frameworks and practical applications of manipulating elemental energies at an interdimensional level.
Suddenly, one of the guards stepped up next to King Aldric at the head of the large, round table.
“It is done, your majesty.”
King Aldric perked up.
“Show me!”
The guard reached into a sack and upended it onto the table. A head tumbled out, rolling twice before bumping to a stop near the king.
Its eyes staring blankly at Kota.
Kota glanced up briefly at the sound, mildly curious. The stump of what was left of his neck was caked with dried blood, and bits of flesh and bone that still clung to it.
Seeing whose head it was, he quickly lost interest and returned to his reading.
The guard on the other hand stood at attention and took a deep breath as sweat rolled down his neck.
“Your Majesty, there’s more...the prince was found dead in his quarters. He...he was crushed, sire. The scene was...it was gruesome.”
“Poor boy.”
“Your Majesty, if I may... Why such a permanent punishment for Reinoldus?” Chancellor Drikus asked. “It seems...excessive.”
“Traitorous actions demand severe consequences, Chancellor. Reinoldus knew Kaito’s whereabouts. His betrayal couldn’t be overlooked.”
“Your concerns about the hero are unnecessary, Aldric. I will bring him to you,” Goren said.
For the first time working alongside the Master of Illusion, he managed to impress Kota. Whatever Paulus told the elf worked, because Goren spoke calmly—almost calmly.
“As you should, Goren. And when you return, don’t forget to bring me a new table.”
