ARC 6-Winter War-150 (Arc End)
The front yard of the James estate is full of activity as we prepare to leave. It’s comparable to the madness of our departure from the Hall.
For ourselves, there is little to do. Most of our supplies have been depleted. Not all in the way we expected. The booze is mostly gone. The shroom juice proved as popular as I expected. The representatives of the orders attending our army’s rites were eager to buy as much as I was willing to sell. The three large chests of gold brought to Alana’s room made my jaw drop. The frugal knights of the north have impressive coffers, saving their gold for war supplies and nothing else.
If we were returning with just ourselves, we could fit everything two wagons. One, if we packed creatively. But we’re not traveling alone.
First thing in the morning, and by first thing I mean the moment the first ray of sunlight brightened the dark night to Victory’s usual gray, the duke spoke before the people of Victory. Despite word being spread of the announcement the night before, the entire Witness Circle was full.
Not by the knights that have consistently proven themselves to be maniacs. Just the average residents of the north; laborers, craftsmen, and servants. The common people are as dedicated as the mad men and women throwing themselves against a never-ending tide of monsters.
In the end, Khan’s performance did not meet my standards. He had a good grasp of his character but found it too difficult to muster the necessary emotion to sell the act. I suppose it’s hard for someone without a menacing bone in his body, from what I’ve seen, to properly play a villain. Not even an aversion to Geneva’s attentions could motivate him. His assurances that he could play his part well were silenced as the succubus put him to sleep and gave him a little ‘help’.
The morning found him a different man. It was quite amusing watching Khan howl and curse everything in the north from the people and the mountains to his nth ancestor. He only quieted when his father held his throat, choking him into silence. No one watching their performance could think that the duke had conspired with his family to spare his son.
Geneva put the poor man to sleep once the announcement was made. Now, he is sleeping in a covered wagon. He isn’t a threat but erring on the side of caution, his bound wrists and ankles are chained to the floor. He also wears a tight blindfold he couldn’t remove even if his hands were free. The plan is to leave him that way except for mealtimes, where he will have the privilege of being spoon-fed by a succubus. No chance to cause trouble for the troublesome brother.
The second party adding to the chaos is Yulia. After the raving Khan was dragged from the Witness Circle, the bad news was blunted by two positive announcements. Alana generously donated her personal resources, our unused supplies, to prepare for the retaliatory march against the estrazi. She also covered our departure by playing up returning to Quest to redeem the March and obtain more resources for the war effort. It’s also a good excuse for the bunny accompanying her younger sister to make sure the silly southerners who took their traditions in vain pay the maximum price.
If the duke’s concerns about the people of Victory doubting the family were at all real, he’s been made to look a fool. Pretty sure they love the James more than ever.
Given the culture of the north, I expected Yulia to travel in a single carriage. She proves me wrong in spectacular fashion. Along with her personal carriage, an entourage of three carriages seating twelve lady knights from the Waning Stars and two wagons of luggage are arranged in a circle, waiting for the signal to depart. In hindsight, I should have expected as much. No matter where she’s from, a noblewoman is a noblewoman. A bird doesn’t change its feathers so easily.
“Hey.”
I turn as Alana comes to stand beside me. My hand idly reaches up to pluck at the white fur on the collar of her cloak. “Hey, yourself. Ready?”
She hums.
“Second thoughts?”
“No.” She sighs. “Don’t be mad but…despite it all, I’m a little sad to go. That’s crazy, isn’t it? I should hate this place.”
I chuckle softly. “Uh-huh. Positively insane.”
“That’s where you deny that.”
“Why? It’s been made amply clear to me crazy is simply in northerner blood. Don’t worry, sweetie. I love you anyway.”
She huffs. “Doesn’t that just make you a pervert?”
I could say that right back. “Thank you.”
“Still haven’t learned to take an insult.”
“If you stopped complimenting me, maybe I’d get better at it.”
The familiar routine makes us smile at each other but Alana’s lips turn down soon enough. “What are we going to do? We’re fighting a war in a year.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“No. We were already involved.” My hand brushes her cheek. “A seer took action to target us. Apparently, one of us was going to cause the end of the world.” Which sounds completely ridiculous. Neither of us could be so callous. “Who’s to say that this seer isn’t still plotting against us? Besides that, one of my ancestors was involved in this treaty. I didn’t think of it much earlier, but that journal is off.”
Summoners record every interaction with elementals. The estrazi may be natives of this realm but habits are difficult to change. Yet, the journal only records a bare minimum of information. I’d expect details down to how many scales are on their clawed feet. Rather than a summoning record, it reads more like a short report written to a superior. Something that’s supported by the fact that it’s in the James’ library.
A summoner’s records goes to their family. End of. My ancestor would have never surrendered it without a fight. Speaking for the other summoners in the Tome family, if someone forced us to write a record we didn’t get to keep, there’s no way I’d put any valuable information in it. Which makes me very curious what my ancestor hid. And where it might be hidden.
“Besides, it’s not like staying out of the north will keep us from the conflict. If the estrazi march an army on Victory, the rest of the kingdom is going to get dragged in. Might as get ahead of it.”
“…that makes me feel less selfish.” Her blue eyes narrow. “Tell me if you change your mind.”
Aw. I step closer to her and lower my voice. “You’re cute when you’re thoughtful.”
I expect her to be embarrassed. She flushes but unexpectedly doesn’t avert her gaze, holding my stare. My mirth is replaced by a quiet warmth. “You don’t have to blame yourself so much. I was at fault too.” I can’t blame them for not knowing me in and out. Saints, in many ways, I still don’t know myself. Thankfully, we have many long years to figure it out. “We’re going to be okay, sweetie.”
“Mm. I’m going to make sure my sister is ready. Remember our promise.”
I shake my head. “Your sister is not going to try to seduce me.” Here I thought their relationship was improving.
“Mark my words. She’s not coming with us for negotiations. The only thing I can think of is getting closer to you and Kii. And the best way to get close to you is through your crotch.”
“A bit crude, my lady.”
“The north doesn’t have ladies. Only violent women with stuffy titles.” She snickers. “My mother got some of the grannies to teach me the etiquette of the south. Aunt Anastasia told me that when I asked her if I’d be continuing my lessons after my father acknowledged me. I don’t know what Yulia has planned. Just remember your promise.”
“Fine, fine. If she makes any untoward moves, we ditch her. You’re really worrying over nothing. Leaving aside that she couldn’t tempt if she wanted to—"
“Really?”
I avert my eyes at her raised brows. “Without your approval, she couldn’t tempt me if she wanted to. Trying isn’t going to get her anything but an angry elf. Kii’s way of rejecting advances is a lot more brutal than a few harsh words.”
A dark smile curls my future saint’s lips. “I think I’d like to see that.”
“You two haven’t left yet?”
We both turn as Kalise stomps toward us. I don’t think her frown has left her face since she heard the news about her son but she’s much calmer than when she was pleading for her son’s life. She stops in front of us, eyes focused on the servants swarming our caravan, hitching the beasts of burden and making sure everything is secure. “My son…how is he?”
“He’s fine,” I hastily reassure her. “That stuff earlier was all an act. Nothing permanent was done.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Alana says solemnly.
“I know you will. Too loyal for your own good.”
“I could say the same to you. I thought you were really going to attack Father.”
The barbarian grunts. “Your eyes are working. That man knows how to push my buttons and not in a good way. If it weren’t for…” She cleared her throat but there’s no need to finish the sentence. I vividly remember Eleanor dragging her from the room. “This may be too motherly but trust me, kitten, you’ve got a good thing with the cat here.” She waves toward me. “Don’t let each other go. Everyone has problems but real love is too rare to give up on.”
“I have no intentions of letting her get away,” I declare.
Alana hesitates before asking, “Why did you marry my father if you don’t love him?”
A question that could be considered insensitive by most. Kalise takes it well, the words failing to prompt a reaction. “When I came to Victory, I wasn’t looking for love,” she says in a tone that feels too casual for the topic. “I wanted good time and…cheh, I’m old enough to admit I needed security.”
“This place makes you feel secure?” I ask incredulously.
She laughs. “It does. Erenheart isn’t a stingy man either. He met my needs, so I stayed. Seems my needs are changing. Getting old isn’t fun.”
“You’re not old,” I say.
“Do you think hearing that from a kitten makes me happy? I’ve had three children. Something about a family changes you. Breaking enemies just isn’t that important when your youngest is about to be executed by his own father.” She shakes her head. “Victory isn’t so comfortable these days.”
“But you’re staying,” Alana points out, her tone holding a question.
“Not for my husband. I’ve got one more war in me. Those scaly bog-drinking bastards are going to pay for laying their hands on my boy.” She claps us on the shoulders. “All the ancestors are going to be watching us next year. It’ll be one for the history books. You cats better be ready.”
“We will be.”
The barbarian slaps us again before heading off without a goodbye. I watch her stomp past the gate, a woman with a mission. “Hey, Alana?”
“Hm?”
“Your father’s kind of an ass.”
She sighs. “Mm.”
“I hate the north.”
“Mm.”
“If you ever decide you do want to be a duchess, we’re stealing Yulia’s idea and completely changing this place. And building a proper town around the fort instead of whatever nonsense the orders are doing. And replacing this ridiculously sad estate with a proper castle, like I promised.”
“I’m surprised you’d even consider it.”
“We’re about to fight for it, aren’t we? I also think we’re the only ones with a chance to change this place.” That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To bring amusement and change. If any place needs that, it’s the north.
“We have to win first.”
“There’s a lot more to do before that.” Forget the war and world-ending threat to be discovered next winter. First, we have to deal with the March. Then comes the consequences of it. Assuming it can end with no lives lost and a peaceful relationship with the hunters, the crown will not be happy. Compounding that is the royal decree banning succubi. I’m sure it’s been announced by now, making me a criminal. Rather than returning with startling achievements, I’m about to piss of the crown in a big way.
Kierra’s finally going to get her wish. If a few elites don’t come to the Hall to detain or outright assassinate me, I’ll forsake the saints. Then there’s all the little plots I left waiting at home, both good and bad. I also planned to begin my career as a summoner with access to the numerous records of the Summoning Hall while searching for clues about my divine parentage.
It all feels…big. Too big to be a game. I’ve come a long way from the low noble with no future I used to be. I’ve built my own house, a family, and if I don’t want it to collapse, or be crushed by other powers, it might be time to take things seriously.
“Coo!” Bell jumps down from our carriage and races toward us. I reach down to scoop her up. [Master Lou, all is ready.]
“Suppose it’s time.” Alana holds out a hand to me. I grab it and pull her forward. To our future and another crisis.
-
As a small caravan, headed by a purple carriage with the Tome crest on the side, pulled away from the fort, a translucent creature hovered above the towering walls. The golden orb that most would assume to be an eye turned toward the looming peaks that permanently shadowed the people of the land.
Like a vulture scenting decay, it could sense multiple sources of potent negative energy. Bloodlust. The beings that lived on the mountain peaks obscured in clouds hungered for violence. A meal that had matured for many years. The being could feed for a thousand cycles on them but it was bound to a contract of mana and couldn’t approach the mountains.
Further north, a more tempting meal waited. If the creatures atop the mountains were a sumptuous meal, what waited beyond could only be compared to feasts of legend, where kings filled streets with tables of food to give the people of their kingdom a taste of royal extravagance. It was enough energy that the Great One could open a permanent door to this realm with only a fraction. If the whole of it was consumed…
Unfortunately, it was bound to a temporary master. Orders limited its potential. Despite having access to such a treasure, it could only consume a taste, forbidden to complete a full cycle and multiply. However, just the knowledge of the immense energy the realm contained would be valuable to the Great One. Knowing it would be useful to its creator filled the being with joy, the only joy it could experience, as it quickly crossed the snowy wasteland.
“Shuba.”
ARC 6-Winter War-150 (Arc End)
The front yard of the James estate is full of activity as we prepare to leave. It’s comparable to the madness of our departure from the Hall.
For ourselves, there is little to do. Most of our supplies have been depleted. Not all in the way we expected. The booze is mostly gone. The shroom juice proved as popular as I expected. The representatives of the orders attending our army’s rites were eager to buy as much as I was willing to sell. The three large chests of gold brought to Alana’s room made my jaw drop. The frugal knights of the north have impressive coffers, saving their gold for war supplies and nothing else.
If we were returning with just ourselves, we could fit everything two wagons. One, if we packed creatively. But we’re not traveling alone.
First thing in the morning, and by first thing I mean the moment the first ray of sunlight brightened the dark night to Victory’s usual gray, the duke spoke before the people of Victory. Despite word being spread of the announcement the night before, the entire Witness Circle was full.
Not by the knights that have consistently proven themselves to be maniacs. Just the average residents of the north; laborers, craftsmen, and servants. The common people are as dedicated as the mad men and women throwing themselves against a never-ending tide of monsters.
In the end, Khan’s performance did not meet my standards. He had a good grasp of his character but found it too difficult to muster the necessary emotion to sell the act. I suppose it’s hard for someone without a menacing bone in his body, from what I’ve seen, to properly play a villain. Not even an aversion to Geneva’s attentions could motivate him. His assurances that he could play his part well were silenced as the succubus put him to sleep and gave him a little ‘help’.
The morning found him a different man. It was quite amusing watching Khan howl and curse everything in the north from the people and the mountains to his nth ancestor. He only quieted when his father held his throat, choking him into silence. No one watching their performance could think that the duke had conspired with his family to spare his son.
Geneva put the poor man to sleep once the announcement was made. Now, he is sleeping in a covered wagon. He isn’t a threat but erring on the side of caution, his bound wrists and ankles are chained to the floor. He also wears a tight blindfold he couldn’t remove even if his hands were free. The plan is to leave him that way except for mealtimes, where he will have the privilege of being spoon-fed by a succubus. No chance to cause trouble for the troublesome brother.
The second party adding to the chaos is Yulia. After the raving Khan was dragged from the Witness Circle, the bad news was blunted by two positive announcements. Alana generously donated her personal resources, our unused supplies, to prepare for the retaliatory march against the estrazi. She also covered our departure by playing up returning to Quest to redeem the March and obtain more resources for the war effort. It’s also a good excuse for the bunny accompanying her younger sister to make sure the silly southerners who took their traditions in vain pay the maximum price.
If the duke’s concerns about the people of Victory doubting the family were at all real, he’s been made to look a fool. Pretty sure they love the James more than ever.
Given the culture of the north, I expected Yulia to travel in a single carriage. She proves me wrong in spectacular fashion. Along with her personal carriage, an entourage of three carriages seating twelve lady knights from the Waning Stars and two wagons of luggage are arranged in a circle, waiting for the signal to depart. In hindsight, I should have expected as much. No matter where she’s from, a noblewoman is a noblewoman. A bird doesn’t change its feathers so easily.
“Hey.”
I turn as Alana comes to stand beside me. My hand idly reaches up to pluck at the white fur on the collar of her cloak. “Hey, yourself. Ready?”
She hums.
“Second thoughts?”
“No.” She sighs. “Don’t be mad but…despite it all, I’m a little sad to go. That’s crazy, isn’t it? I should hate this place.”
I chuckle softly. “Uh-huh. Positively insane.”
“That’s where you deny that.”
“Why? It’s been made amply clear to me crazy is simply in northerner blood. Don’t worry, sweetie. I love you anyway.”
She huffs. “Doesn’t that just make you a pervert?”
I could say that right back. “Thank you.”
“Still haven’t learned to take an insult.”
“If you stopped complimenting me, maybe I’d get better at it.”
The familiar routine makes us smile at each other but Alana’s lips turn down soon enough. “What are we going to do? We’re fighting a war in a year.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“No. We were already involved.” My hand brushes her cheek. “A seer took action to target us. Apparently, one of us was going to cause the end of the world.” Which sounds completely ridiculous. Neither of us could be so callous. “Who’s to say that this seer isn’t still plotting against us? Besides that, one of my ancestors was involved in this treaty. I didn’t think of it much earlier, but that journal is off.”
Summoners record every interaction with elementals. The estrazi may be natives of this realm but habits are difficult to change. Yet, the journal only records a bare minimum of information. I’d expect details down to how many scales are on their clawed feet. Rather than a summoning record, it reads more like a short report written to a superior. Something that’s supported by the fact that it’s in the James’ library.
A summoner’s records goes to their family. End of. My ancestor would have never surrendered it without a fight. Speaking for the other summoners in the Tome family, if someone forced us to write a record we didn’t get to keep, there’s no way I’d put any valuable information in it. Which makes me very curious what my ancestor hid. And where it might be hidden.
“Besides, it’s not like staying out of the north will keep us from the conflict. If the estrazi march an army on Victory, the rest of the kingdom is going to get dragged in. Might as get ahead of it.”
“…that makes me feel less selfish.” Her blue eyes narrow. “Tell me if you change your mind.”
Aw. I step closer to her and lower my voice. “You’re cute when you’re thoughtful.”
I expect her to be embarrassed. She flushes but unexpectedly doesn’t avert her gaze, holding my stare. My mirth is replaced by a quiet warmth. “You don’t have to blame yourself so much. I was at fault too.” I can’t blame them for not knowing me in and out. Saints, in many ways, I still don’t know myself. Thankfully, we have many long years to figure it out. “We’re going to be okay, sweetie.”
“Mm. I’m going to make sure my sister is ready. Remember our promise.”
I shake my head. “Your sister is not going to try to seduce me.” Here I thought their relationship was improving.
“Mark my words. She’s not coming with us for negotiations. The only thing I can think of is getting closer to you and Kii. And the best way to get close to you is through your crotch.”
“A bit crude, my lady.”
“The north doesn’t have ladies. Only violent women with stuffy titles.” She snickers. “My mother got some of the grannies to teach me the etiquette of the south. Aunt Anastasia told me that when I asked her if I’d be continuing my lessons after my father acknowledged me. I don’t know what Yulia has planned. Just remember your promise.”
“Fine, fine. If she makes any untoward moves, we ditch her. You’re really worrying over nothing. Leaving aside that she couldn’t tempt if she wanted to—"
“Really?”
I avert my eyes at her raised brows. “Without your approval, she couldn’t tempt me if she wanted to. Trying isn’t going to get her anything but an angry elf. Kii’s way of rejecting advances is a lot more brutal than a few harsh words.”
A dark smile curls my future saint’s lips. “I think I’d like to see that.”
“You two haven’t left yet?”
We both turn as Kalise stomps toward us. I don’t think her frown has left her face since she heard the news about her son but she’s much calmer than when she was pleading for her son’s life. She stops in front of us, eyes focused on the servants swarming our caravan, hitching the beasts of burden and making sure everything is secure. “My son…how is he?”
“He’s fine,” I hastily reassure her. “That stuff earlier was all an act. Nothing permanent was done.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Alana says solemnly.
“I know you will. Too loyal for your own good.”
“I could say the same to you. I thought you were really going to attack Father.”
The barbarian grunts. “Your eyes are working. That man knows how to push my buttons and not in a good way. If it weren’t for…” She cleared her throat but there’s no need to finish the sentence. I vividly remember Eleanor dragging her from the room. “This may be too motherly but trust me, kitten, you’ve got a good thing with the cat here.” She waves toward me. “Don’t let each other go. Everyone has problems but real love is too rare to give up on.”
“I have no intentions of letting her get away,” I declare.
Alana hesitates before asking, “Why did you marry my father if you don’t love him?”
A question that could be considered insensitive by most. Kalise takes it well, the words failing to prompt a reaction. “When I came to Victory, I wasn’t looking for love,” she says in a tone that feels too casual for the topic. “I wanted good time and…cheh, I’m old enough to admit I needed security.”
“This place makes you feel secure?” I ask incredulously.
She laughs. “It does. Erenheart isn’t a stingy man either. He met my needs, so I stayed. Seems my needs are changing. Getting old isn’t fun.”
“You’re not old,” I say.
“Do you think hearing that from a kitten makes me happy? I’ve had three children. Something about a family changes you. Breaking enemies just isn’t that important when your youngest is about to be executed by his own father.” She shakes her head. “Victory isn’t so comfortable these days.”
“But you’re staying,” Alana points out, her tone holding a question.
“Not for my husband. I’ve got one more war in me. Those scaly bog-drinking bastards are going to pay for laying their hands on my boy.” She claps us on the shoulders. “All the ancestors are going to be watching us next year. It’ll be one for the history books. You cats better be ready.”
“We will be.”
The barbarian slaps us again before heading off without a goodbye. I watch her stomp past the gate, a woman with a mission. “Hey, Alana?”
“Hm?”
“Your father’s kind of an ass.”
She sighs. “Mm.”
“I hate the north.”
“Mm.”
“If you ever decide you do want to be a duchess, we’re stealing Yulia’s idea and completely changing this place. And building a proper town around the fort instead of whatever nonsense the orders are doing. And replacing this ridiculously sad estate with a proper castle, like I promised.”
“I’m surprised you’d even consider it.”
“We’re about to fight for it, aren’t we? I also think we’re the only ones with a chance to change this place.” That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To bring amusement and change. If any place needs that, it’s the north.
“We have to win first.”
“There’s a lot more to do before that.” Forget the war and world-ending threat to be discovered next winter. First, we have to deal with the March. Then comes the consequences of it. Assuming it can end with no lives lost and a peaceful relationship with the hunters, the crown will not be happy. Compounding that is the royal decree banning succubi. I’m sure it’s been announced by now, making me a criminal. Rather than returning with startling achievements, I’m about to piss of the crown in a big way.
Kierra’s finally going to get her wish. If a few elites don’t come to the Hall to detain or outright assassinate me, I’ll forsake the saints. Then there’s all the little plots I left waiting at home, both good and bad. I also planned to begin my career as a summoner with access to the numerous records of the Summoning Hall while searching for clues about my divine parentage.
It all feels…big. Too big to be a game. I’ve come a long way from the low noble with no future I used to be. I’ve built my own house, a family, and if I don’t want it to collapse, or be crushed by other powers, it might be time to take things seriously.
“Coo!” Bell jumps down from our carriage and races toward us. I reach down to scoop her up. [Master Lou, all is ready.]
“Suppose it’s time.” Alana holds out a hand to me. I grab it and pull her forward. To our future and another crisis.
-
As a small caravan, headed by a purple carriage with the Tome crest on the side, pulled away from the fort, a translucent creature hovered above the towering walls. The golden orb that most would assume to be an eye turned toward the looming peaks that permanently shadowed the people of the land.
Like a vulture scenting decay, it could sense multiple sources of potent negative energy. Bloodlust. The beings that lived on the mountain peaks obscured in clouds hungered for violence. A meal that had matured for many years. The being could feed for a thousand cycles on them but it was bound to a contract of mana and couldn’t approach the mountains.
Further north, a more tempting meal waited. If the creatures atop the mountains were a sumptuous meal, what waited beyond could only be compared to feasts of legend, where kings filled streets with tables of food to give the people of their kingdom a taste of royal extravagance. It was enough energy that the Great One could open a permanent door to this realm with only a fraction. If the whole of it was consumed…
Unfortunately, it was bound to a temporary master. Orders limited its potential. Despite having access to such a treasure, it could only consume a taste, forbidden to complete a full cycle and multiply. However, just the knowledge of the immense energy the realm contained would be valuable to the Great One. Knowing it would be useful to its creator filled the being with joy, the only joy it could experience, as it quickly crossed the snowy wasteland.
“Shuba.”
