Third Prince Mushuari Gol of Golat was supremely bored. He had been cast out by the first and second prince as they fought over who would rule the Empire after their father’s passing. It was as much to get him out of the way as it was to keep him from taking either brother’s side in the political conflict.
Not that he would take either side.
He despised his older brothers as they had been lavished with praise and luxury from the day they were born. He on the other hand had to work for it.
And over his twenty-five cycles, he had earned a modicum of wealth and status. All for it to come to naught as all of his wealth and prestige was lost when the Empire was split asunder.
With so many things being unknown after the calamity, the political intrigue of the capital had come to a screeching halt. The peace didn’t last long though. Influential people realized there was a new power up for grabs.
A few overzealous types had thought to take advantage of his family's time of weakness to finally end the Golatian Empire. But his family hadn’t remained the rulers of the empire for over an eon simply by being powerful. His father knew of the plot and stopped it before it could even gain traction.
The public executions of the traitors had made it clear to any other would-be rebels, that their actions would have consequences.
But third Prince Mushuari didn’t concern himself with rebels, or the power struggles of his brothers. He had another goal in mind. He needed to recapture his lost holdings and restore his power base. While this new magic was nice, he knew it wouldn’t save him once a victor was determined between his older siblings. They would not want another contender for the throne.
The only thing keeping his brothers from murdering him outright was the political complications and his eighty-thousand-strong army. That didn’t mean he hadn’t stopped over a dozen assassination attempts on his life so far. He didn’t hate his brothers for their choices, he would have made the same if he were in their positions. What irked him was that he lacked the ability to retaliate. But that was slowly changing.
After leaving the capital, he headed west in hopes of recovering lost Empire lands under his banner. He hadn’t encountered any so far, but that was ok. He had annexed six zones between where he was currently and the Empire. Not all of the local aliens were compliant, but that didn’t matter. His army of serfs rolled over any opposition. And those who capitulated were either added to his force, if they had an ability, or were forced into labor camps and mines to help rebuild his wealth and power.
But that wasn’t the reason for his boredom.
The reason for his boredom was the lack of any true challenge. The pointy-eared blue skins put up a minor fight, but that zone only housed a small village of the strangely shaded humanoids. And their magic, while interesting, hardly even slowed his force down. Only this new zone had forced him to engage personally. The deadly wisps that hid inside the mists had posed a small challenge, even for him to deal with. But once he realized they couldn’t leave the mist, he simply obliterated the towers that continuously spewed the gas from the earth and they were forced to disperse.
He was hoping another such challenge would introduce itself, and when he felt the gentle rocking motion of his palanquin come to a halt, he smiled in anticipation. A stop meant his scouts had spotted something.
Soon the drums started. He sat up in the plush bed, pushing off the sleeping women he had been entangled with. Once out of bed, he stretched his lithe naked body, devoid of any blemish or scar. As was only expected of someone of his caliber. As his conveyance rocked, he moved gracefully across the large space and over to his wardrobe. The attendant was already waiting to dress him. And while he would have preferred to bathe beforehand, even he didn’t have the luxury of toting along a mobile bath. It would have to wait until after he squashed this newest discovery or forced them to heel under his power.
Once dressed, he placed the Diadem of the Heavens across his brow. All those that looked upon it should weep at its glory and bow before its splendor. Or so the ancient tales spoke. He simply wore it for the magical amplification properties it now possessed. The enchantment was something the Empire’s crafters had woven into it recently. With the diadem on, it took but a thought and he rose from the ground and glided toward the throne at the front of his palanquin. The ability to twist and control the very nature of what kept men fixed to the ground was intoxicating but he released the power and settled gracefully into the seat.
Soon after, all motion ceased and he felt the palanquin settle to the ground. Already he could hear his herald announcing his presence. It was almost time to reveal himself and judge this latest interloper appropriately.
As the herald finished espousing all of his virtues, the thick curtain pulled back, allowing them to see his splendor.
Third Prince Mushuari had expected a host to be arrayed against him, but it was only one man atop a strange bird-like mount. The distance between them was great, but Mushuari could tell the man wore white armor. And his mount was exquisite. He had yet to find suitable mounts for his generals, the temperamental zitha couldn’t handle the rapidly changing climates he had been forced to travel through. If the only thing that came out of this zone was more of these fierce-looking mounts, he would leave satisfied.
He suspected this place had more to offer though. Mushuari could sense the gravity of this man in front of him. It reminded him of how his brothers felt. So much power that they bent the world around them subtly. He also wore a crown. Instead of being offended by this, Mushuari smiled and rose from his throne.
There was a collective gasp of shock from those close to the palanquin as everyone went down to one knee. The man on the bird didn’t so much as flinch as Mushuari hovered out from beneath the protective covering and floated closer toward him. The man had spirit, Mushuari would enjoy breaking it and adding him to his host.
***
Once Norman got a good view of the guy going on about the virtues of someone called the Third Prince, he realized who this group was. Or at least where they had come from. And that was the Golatian Empire, the ones who had ruled over the land that was now under the management of the Alacala Merchant Alliance as well as the nomads.
Was it simply a coincidence that they showed up here and now? He wasn’t sure.
What he did know was that this man was a powerful mage. Either air or maybe gravity. Because he had yet to meet many mages that could fly or hover so effortlessly, and for so long. Even his ability to form the condensed air platform would drain a normal mage in a minute or two. It takes a lot of energy to counteract your body's weight. He supposed this man could have a weird magic that was based on neutral buoyancy, but he doubted that.
The man stopped halfway between him and his ride. It was a ridiculous contraption, covered in gold, jewels, and all sorts of filigree. Oh did he mention it was also larger than his own castle? That seemed like an important thing to mention. The hundreds of chained-up non-humans used to lift it spoke of just how difficult the stupid thing was to move.
Mr. Prince smirked slightly as he looked beyond Norman. From the pounding footsteps, Norman could tell some of his forces were approaching. Grobert wasn’t here, the man would be teleporting around to ensure there were no other surprises waiting for them. As for Eugene, the man was in charge of the defense of the city.
Before Norman’s mind could wander off track, the man spoke. “You are a leader. And you have come out here to bargain for your people’s safety.”
These were not questions, but simple statements as the man continued. “An admirable quality. I will allow you to swear fealty to me and in return, I will spare your people. They will be left behind to work this fertile land for me. And you will join my host.”
Norman couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You find my offer amusing?”
“I find everything about you and your host amusing. You don’t even know who I am, or what I am capable of.” After he finished speaking, he felt a great weight settle upon his shoulders.
Scar squawked in outrage as his powerful muscles pushed against the force that pressed down on them.
“I could say the same for you. This will be my last offer. Refuse and I will add you to my host anyway and purge your people from existence as punishment for your disobedience.”
Norman could tell this man wasn’t the type to listen to reason, so he activated the prepared spell in his mind and hurled the skull hidden in his palm through the spell circle that had appeared in front of him.
The floating prince easily twisted aside to avoid the projectile. He scoffed. “Is that all you are capable of? You can’t even hit me.”
“I wasn’t aiming for you,” Norman responded.
The man turned toward his army as the spell form coalesced around the skull. In an instant, it transformed and the flaming skull went to work.
The angry prince whirled back on him just as Norman pointed a red-tipped bone at the man. Unfortunately, he didn’t get time to activate Lingering Death as what felt like a mountain flattened him and Scar into the ground to form a thin red paste.
***
Third Prince Mushuari had to lower himself to the ground as a significant portion of his power had gone into crushing the insolent man instantly before he could cast another spell. Already he could see hundreds of bodies slumped over as the strange red skull poured darkness over his forces. Spells were striking the skull and slowing its progress but it seemed whatever magic it was spewing forth was spreading. And his defenders were unable to stop it.
He was about to take to the air again as a bit of his power had recovered, but a voice from behind stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going, we aren’t done yet.”
Mushuari whirled back around and his eyes went wide. “Impossible, you were crushed under my power, you should be dead!”
The man chuckled, it was a cold thing, devoid of any mirth and it sent chills up the third Prince’s spine. “You may be able to manipulate gravity, but I am the master of life and death. And it’s time for you to die.”
Knowing when he was outmatched, Mushuari fled, pumping all of his remaining power into his flight. He rocketed away from the ground, avoiding his army and flying as far away from this deviant mage as possible.
As he was rocketing away, he felt something crawl along his back and he reached around to grab whatever it was. Something sharp wrapped around his hand. He hissed and pulled his hand back to see… a crown wrapped around his arm. The thing moved and Mushuari screamed as it tore his body to shreds.
***
Norman watched the weird Prince dude fly away like Superman. It had surprised him so much, he forgot to cast a spell before the man was out of his reach. Too bad it wouldn’t do him any good. He had seen his crown crawling up the man’s loose clothing just before he leaped into the air. He didn’t know what surprised him more, the fact his crown had survived the crushing force of gravity, that had flattened both him and Scar, or the fact it was smart enough to go after the person that did it.
Either way, he watched as the man’s once linear flight became a series of jerky motions before he fell out of the sky, or at least pieces of him did. With a shrug, Norman turned back toward the army as they tried to defeat one Flaming Skull spell.
Now, he knew the spell was going to be effective, but what it was doing to this army was beyond his expectations. He conjured four more of the spells and sent them careening toward the enemy moments before backup arrived.
“Sir, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Nolix.” And he was. While he might have been angry, he wasn’t stupid. He had placed a backup phylactery a few hundred meters from the hill he stood upon. Knowing that his permanent revival spell wouldn’t reach this far out. That did mean he was only clothed by his armor, but it was enough.
“Do you want us to engage?”
“Are your phylacteries secured nearby?”
His guard nodded.
“Very well, go show them a warm welcome to Normenia.”
The man saluted and gave a warcry as he and two dozen Death Knights raced down the slope of the hill toward the enemy army. His spells did most of the killing, but the knights carved a bloody path all their own.
Scar squawked next to him and Norman noticed Princess, Dante, and Lucifer had also joined him at some point. “If you four want to join in, be my guest.” Dante and Lucifer gave him quizzical looks but Princess barked once and their muzzles opened in a happy yip before they tore down the slope toward the rapidly crumbling army.
Scar joined them, but he didn’t range far as he hunted after the few brave enough to try attacking Norman’s hill. A sonic shout was usually enough to render them easy prey for his terror bird.
As some of the enemy ranks began to break, he saw flickers of movement along the back line and smiled. Grobert would ensure not a single enemy left this field of battle.
Something tapped him on the leg and he saw his crown had returned, and it brought some sort of gem-encrusted necklace with it. No, he realized it wasn’t a necklace but that thing the prince was wearing on his head. He didn’t immediately recognize it because it was coated in blood and dirt. Norman reached down to pick up the clearly magical item and the golem shot up his arm and returned to its rightful place.
Eventually, the spells he cast burned themselves out along with the flames. While they had spread a significant distance, it did appear they weren’t able to continuously spread. That was good to know. He turned around and walked back to the city, secure in the knowledge that his people could take care of the rest.
MJMarkgraf I will be taking next week off. See you all back on the 30th! If you don't want to wait, you can check out the next 15 chapters on my Patreon.
Third Prince Mushuari Gol of Golat was supremely bored. He had been cast out by the first and second prince as they fought over who would rule the Empire after their father’s passing. It was as much to get him out of the way as it was to keep him from taking either brother’s side in the political conflict.
Not that he would take either side.
He despised his older brothers as they had been lavished with praise and luxury from the day they were born. He on the other hand had to work for it.
And over his twenty-five cycles, he had earned a modicum of wealth and status. All for it to come to naught as all of his wealth and prestige was lost when the Empire was split asunder.
With so many things being unknown after the calamity, the political intrigue of the capital had come to a screeching halt. The peace didn’t last long though. Influential people realized there was a new power up for grabs.
A few overzealous types had thought to take advantage of his family's time of weakness to finally end the Golatian Empire. But his family hadn’t remained the rulers of the empire for over an eon simply by being powerful. His father knew of the plot and stopped it before it could even gain traction.
The public executions of the traitors had made it clear to any other would-be rebels, that their actions would have consequences.
But third Prince Mushuari didn’t concern himself with rebels, or the power struggles of his brothers. He had another goal in mind. He needed to recapture his lost holdings and restore his power base. While this new magic was nice, he knew it wouldn’t save him once a victor was determined between his older siblings. They would not want another contender for the throne.
The only thing keeping his brothers from murdering him outright was the political complications and his eighty-thousand-strong army. That didn’t mean he hadn’t stopped over a dozen assassination attempts on his life so far. He didn’t hate his brothers for their choices, he would have made the same if he were in their positions. What irked him was that he lacked the ability to retaliate. But that was slowly changing.
After leaving the capital, he headed west in hopes of recovering lost Empire lands under his banner. He hadn’t encountered any so far, but that was ok. He had annexed six zones between where he was currently and the Empire. Not all of the local aliens were compliant, but that didn’t matter. His army of serfs rolled over any opposition. And those who capitulated were either added to his force, if they had an ability, or were forced into labor camps and mines to help rebuild his wealth and power.
But that wasn’t the reason for his boredom.
The reason for his boredom was the lack of any true challenge. The pointy-eared blue skins put up a minor fight, but that zone only housed a small village of the strangely shaded humanoids. And their magic, while interesting, hardly even slowed his force down. Only this new zone had forced him to engage personally. The deadly wisps that hid inside the mists had posed a small challenge, even for him to deal with. But once he realized they couldn’t leave the mist, he simply obliterated the towers that continuously spewed the gas from the earth and they were forced to disperse.
He was hoping another such challenge would introduce itself, and when he felt the gentle rocking motion of his palanquin come to a halt, he smiled in anticipation. A stop meant his scouts had spotted something.
Soon the drums started. He sat up in the plush bed, pushing off the sleeping women he had been entangled with. Once out of bed, he stretched his lithe naked body, devoid of any blemish or scar. As was only expected of someone of his caliber. As his conveyance rocked, he moved gracefully across the large space and over to his wardrobe. The attendant was already waiting to dress him. And while he would have preferred to bathe beforehand, even he didn’t have the luxury of toting along a mobile bath. It would have to wait until after he squashed this newest discovery or forced them to heel under his power.
Once dressed, he placed the Diadem of the Heavens across his brow. All those that looked upon it should weep at its glory and bow before its splendor. Or so the ancient tales spoke. He simply wore it for the magical amplification properties it now possessed. The enchantment was something the Empire’s crafters had woven into it recently. With the diadem on, it took but a thought and he rose from the ground and glided toward the throne at the front of his palanquin. The ability to twist and control the very nature of what kept men fixed to the ground was intoxicating but he released the power and settled gracefully into the seat.
Soon after, all motion ceased and he felt the palanquin settle to the ground. Already he could hear his herald announcing his presence. It was almost time to reveal himself and judge this latest interloper appropriately.
As the herald finished espousing all of his virtues, the thick curtain pulled back, allowing them to see his splendor.
Third Prince Mushuari had expected a host to be arrayed against him, but it was only one man atop a strange bird-like mount. The distance between them was great, but Mushuari could tell the man wore white armor. And his mount was exquisite. He had yet to find suitable mounts for his generals, the temperamental zitha couldn’t handle the rapidly changing climates he had been forced to travel through. If the only thing that came out of this zone was more of these fierce-looking mounts, he would leave satisfied.
He suspected this place had more to offer though. Mushuari could sense the gravity of this man in front of him. It reminded him of how his brothers felt. So much power that they bent the world around them subtly. He also wore a crown. Instead of being offended by this, Mushuari smiled and rose from his throne.
There was a collective gasp of shock from those close to the palanquin as everyone went down to one knee. The man on the bird didn’t so much as flinch as Mushuari hovered out from beneath the protective covering and floated closer toward him. The man had spirit, Mushuari would enjoy breaking it and adding him to his host.
***
Once Norman got a good view of the guy going on about the virtues of someone called the Third Prince, he realized who this group was. Or at least where they had come from. And that was the Golatian Empire, the ones who had ruled over the land that was now under the management of the Alacala Merchant Alliance as well as the nomads.
Was it simply a coincidence that they showed up here and now? He wasn’t sure.
What he did know was that this man was a powerful mage. Either air or maybe gravity. Because he had yet to meet many mages that could fly or hover so effortlessly, and for so long. Even his ability to form the condensed air platform would drain a normal mage in a minute or two. It takes a lot of energy to counteract your body's weight. He supposed this man could have a weird magic that was based on neutral buoyancy, but he doubted that.
The man stopped halfway between him and his ride. It was a ridiculous contraption, covered in gold, jewels, and all sorts of filigree. Oh did he mention it was also larger than his own castle? That seemed like an important thing to mention. The hundreds of chained-up non-humans used to lift it spoke of just how difficult the stupid thing was to move.
Mr. Prince smirked slightly as he looked beyond Norman. From the pounding footsteps, Norman could tell some of his forces were approaching. Grobert wasn’t here, the man would be teleporting around to ensure there were no other surprises waiting for them. As for Eugene, the man was in charge of the defense of the city.
Before Norman’s mind could wander off track, the man spoke. “You are a leader. And you have come out here to bargain for your people’s safety.”
These were not questions, but simple statements as the man continued. “An admirable quality. I will allow you to swear fealty to me and in return, I will spare your people. They will be left behind to work this fertile land for me. And you will join my host.”
Norman couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You find my offer amusing?”
“I find everything about you and your host amusing. You don’t even know who I am, or what I am capable of.” After he finished speaking, he felt a great weight settle upon his shoulders.
Scar squawked in outrage as his powerful muscles pushed against the force that pressed down on them.
“I could say the same for you. This will be my last offer. Refuse and I will add you to my host anyway and purge your people from existence as punishment for your disobedience.”
Norman could tell this man wasn’t the type to listen to reason, so he activated the prepared spell in his mind and hurled the skull hidden in his palm through the spell circle that had appeared in front of him.
The floating prince easily twisted aside to avoid the projectile. He scoffed. “Is that all you are capable of? You can’t even hit me.”
“I wasn’t aiming for you,” Norman responded.
The man turned toward his army as the spell form coalesced around the skull. In an instant, it transformed and the flaming skull went to work.
The angry prince whirled back on him just as Norman pointed a red-tipped bone at the man. Unfortunately, he didn’t get time to activate Lingering Death as what felt like a mountain flattened him and Scar into the ground to form a thin red paste.
***
Third Prince Mushuari had to lower himself to the ground as a significant portion of his power had gone into crushing the insolent man instantly before he could cast another spell. Already he could see hundreds of bodies slumped over as the strange red skull poured darkness over his forces. Spells were striking the skull and slowing its progress but it seemed whatever magic it was spewing forth was spreading. And his defenders were unable to stop it.
He was about to take to the air again as a bit of his power had recovered, but a voice from behind stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going, we aren’t done yet.”
Mushuari whirled back around and his eyes went wide. “Impossible, you were crushed under my power, you should be dead!”
The man chuckled, it was a cold thing, devoid of any mirth and it sent chills up the third Prince’s spine. “You may be able to manipulate gravity, but I am the master of life and death. And it’s time for you to die.”
Knowing when he was outmatched, Mushuari fled, pumping all of his remaining power into his flight. He rocketed away from the ground, avoiding his army and flying as far away from this deviant mage as possible.
As he was rocketing away, he felt something crawl along his back and he reached around to grab whatever it was. Something sharp wrapped around his hand. He hissed and pulled his hand back to see… a crown wrapped around his arm. The thing moved and Mushuari screamed as it tore his body to shreds.
***
Norman watched the weird Prince dude fly away like Superman. It had surprised him so much, he forgot to cast a spell before the man was out of his reach. Too bad it wouldn’t do him any good. He had seen his crown crawling up the man’s loose clothing just before he leaped into the air. He didn’t know what surprised him more, the fact his crown had survived the crushing force of gravity, that had flattened both him and Scar, or the fact it was smart enough to go after the person that did it.
Either way, he watched as the man’s once linear flight became a series of jerky motions before he fell out of the sky, or at least pieces of him did. With a shrug, Norman turned back toward the army as they tried to defeat one Flaming Skull spell.
Now, he knew the spell was going to be effective, but what it was doing to this army was beyond his expectations. He conjured four more of the spells and sent them careening toward the enemy moments before backup arrived.
“Sir, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Nolix.” And he was. While he might have been angry, he wasn’t stupid. He had placed a backup phylactery a few hundred meters from the hill he stood upon. Knowing that his permanent revival spell wouldn’t reach this far out. That did mean he was only clothed by his armor, but it was enough.
“Do you want us to engage?”
“Are your phylacteries secured nearby?”
His guard nodded.
“Very well, go show them a warm welcome to Normenia.”
The man saluted and gave a warcry as he and two dozen Death Knights raced down the slope of the hill toward the enemy army. His spells did most of the killing, but the knights carved a bloody path all their own.
Scar squawked next to him and Norman noticed Princess, Dante, and Lucifer had also joined him at some point. “If you four want to join in, be my guest.” Dante and Lucifer gave him quizzical looks but Princess barked once and their muzzles opened in a happy yip before they tore down the slope toward the rapidly crumbling army.
Scar joined them, but he didn’t range far as he hunted after the few brave enough to try attacking Norman’s hill. A sonic shout was usually enough to render them easy prey for his terror bird.
As some of the enemy ranks began to break, he saw flickers of movement along the back line and smiled. Grobert would ensure not a single enemy left this field of battle.
Something tapped him on the leg and he saw his crown had returned, and it brought some sort of gem-encrusted necklace with it. No, he realized it wasn’t a necklace but that thing the prince was wearing on his head. He didn’t immediately recognize it because it was coated in blood and dirt. Norman reached down to pick up the clearly magical item and the golem shot up his arm and returned to its rightful place.
Eventually, the spells he cast burned themselves out along with the flames. While they had spread a significant distance, it did appear they weren’t able to continuously spread. That was good to know. He turned around and walked back to the city, secure in the knowledge that his people could take care of the rest.
MJMarkgraf I will be taking next week off. See you all back on the 30th! If you don't want to wait, you can check out the next 15 chapters on my Patreon.
