1

So many things had happened, Izumi had by this point completely forgotten the words of late wizard Yornwhal from two weeks ago. Correctly guessing Izumi’s identity as a visitor from another planet, the old magician had then revealed that there was another summoned human staying at the Imperial Court. As those words returned to her now, the reality of them before her eyes, Izumi couldn’t hide her astonishment.

“Eh?” she stared at the young man and exclaimed. “Eeehh!? New York? You are...? So you're the other person who got summoned? I—my! This is a surprise! I'm Izumi, Itaka Izumi. From—”

“—No, don't say it!” The man called Benjamin quickly raised his finger to interrupt her. “Those features...A moment, please. Asian…? Chinese?”

“Japanese...” Izumi corrected him, her earlier tension instantly dissipating.

“Ah! The Land of the Rising Sun? Yes!” The young man exclaimed, waving his arms. “I can't believe this! This is amazing! Wow, I'm just...it’s incredible. First, I'm summoned into another world, to a whole different plane of existence, and now, for the first time since, I'm actually having a conversation with someone else from my home world. I never believed this day would come! I’m not alone in the universe anymore! Not that I was before, exactly, but—you know what I mean! Words simply fail to describe this feeling! Words, yes! We—we understand each other! Though we were born in different countries, we speak the language of this world like it's perfectly natural for us! How absurd is that!? What are the laws that govern these things? It’s phenomenal. It’s like...magic. It literally is magic, huh? Wow. Thank—God, I'm alive to experience this.”

He certainly wasn’t left at a loss for words.

“I guess it is pretty amazing, yes,” Izumi agreed, wondering if her initial reaction should've been more like his. “But, 1930…Doesn’t that mean you've been summoned from nearly a hundred years further in the past than me?”

“A hundred years? Are you for real?” Benjamin gasped, before snapping his fingers. “A-ha! But that confirms it! My theory!”

“Theory?”

The young man dashed to the nearby table and went rummaging through the papers and notes covering its surface.

“For how long have you been here, precisely?” he asked.

“...Around four weeks, I think?” Izumi tried to count, not very precisely.

The passage of time had been difficult to keep track of while on the road. There weren’t many clocks or calendars available either, and her memory wasn’t so accurate.

“Four weeks!” the man exclaimed. “That’s amazing! This is a terribly interesting point, don't you think? We've been summoned from points separated by a whole century of time, yet there's only the difference of a couple of months in our appearances here on Ortho. Can you see what this means?”

“Um, what?” Izumi asked, feeling a little stupid. Following the youth’s rapid fire speech made her dizzy.

“I’ve been trying to infer the finer details behind the summoning magic that brings people to this world. What are its limitations, what can it do, and what it can’t. I mean, it can transport people clearly over who knows how great distances, perhaps even across universes, but how does it do that, really? Is it one way only? Why the people of Earth, can it be any planet with life? Is there life on other planets, or were we chosen in specific? Is the target picked at random, or are there special qualifications one must meet to be eligible? Things like that.”

The youth gestured with his hands, as if trying to will a descriptive image into existence,

“Basically, I see two possible explanations at this juncture. Either the summoning magic can pick up people from any age or place, past, present, or even future, conveniently ignoring the dimensions of time and space altogether—it’s completely random, see? OR, the second possibility is that the worlds themselves don’t align in any way. It’s not a problem of distance, clearly. When the ritual is carried out, the delivery is instantaneous, there is no perceptible margin there. For that one moment, and one only, the two worlds are connected, but at all other instances, there might be no real correlation between them. Which means, you couldn’t simply build a rocket and fly back to Earth, provided we somehow found out where it was, relative to our position in space. Even if we could radio home and tell them, ‘please come pick us up, here are the coordinates’, the chances are, the home we come from does not actually exist in this universe at all, but is somewhere completely removed from us, and normally inaccessible. Hey, what do you think?”

“Um, I haven’t really thought about that...at all...” Izumi was forced to admit.

Her own interest towards the circumstances of planet Earth were non-existent, after all.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Benjamin suddenly apologized. “It must be quite the hard bite to swallow, the idea that going back might be unthinkable for us. I’ve had some time to come to terms with the idea, but just throwing it in your face like that, when we only just met...I got carried away. I’m sorry. It’s ultimately just a theory, all right. Don't let it get to you. I’m sure it is possible that you may still see your family again some day.”

“No, it’s fine,” Izumi said. “I don’t really mind.”

Rather, the idea of it being impossible was a relief for her, if true. Was it strange of her to feel that way? Izumi’s lukewarm attitude didn’t seem to bother the man, however.

“A hundred years!” Benjamin exclaimed, already moving on, searching through the mess on the table. “But if that's really the case, then you have to tell me absolutely everything that's happened in our world after I was brought here. Everything. How much has changed in a hundred years—I can't even imagine! Every little detail. A lifetime’s worth of knowledge from the future! I have to write this down, where’s my pen, pen, pen, pen—”

—“Ahem.”

Carmelia's diplomatic cough interrupted the one-sided conversation.

“Pardon me,” the sorceress said with a faint smile, “but there is a certain matter I must discuss with this woman, so I ask that you leave it at quick greetings for now. Otherwise, the day will have passed before we get anywhere.”

“Ah,” Benjamin exhaled a disappointed sigh. “I suppose I have to hold back for now. But later, Ms Izumi, do entertain me with your story for a bit. I insist.”

“Eh, okay, sure,” Izumi nodded, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.

“Really, really happy to have met you!” the man waved after her. “Later! It’s a promise! Don’t forget!”

“This way, please,” Carmelia beckoned Izumi, who followed after the sorceress through the library, towards a doorway at the other end.

The two eventually arrived in a spacious room empty of all furnishings, books, tables, and such. There was a tranquil, noble air hanging in the air, quite different from the rest of the palace, as if the room had been sliced out of a different culture altogether.

It seemed unusually luxurious for the quarters of a simple court magician. A reception hall, one might have called it, for a noble to meet equally high-profiled guests in private, although in its splendor it would have been comparable to a throne room in most kingdoms. A large, exquisitely carved chair was set up on an elevated spot by the right side wall, tall candle stands surrounding it.

Izumi had a hard time picturing old Yornwhal in such a chair. Regardless, as if it were the most natural place for her, the bare minimum of passable, Carmelia took the extravagant seat, leaving Izumi standing before it.

“No one else may overhear us now, so let us speak directly,” the cirelo told her.

“Um, okay,” Izumi nodded. Not like she had a choice.

“As said, I did not free you from captivity out of the kindness of my heart. Neither was it gratitude for the slaughter of my kin. For as wretched as he was, Joviél of Elevro was still of an infinitely higher origin than your human kings and princes. Your life and freedom would not be enough to reimburse a sin so heavy. Not the lives and freedom of all your people. Nevertheless, I have brought you here today because I saw a need for a person of your talents. Thus, hear out my modest request, a plea.”

“What is it?” Izumi asked.

In her usual solemn tone, as if requesting the acquisition of a dozen bear hides, the Court Wizard answered,

“I want you to finish what you started——and kill the Emperor.”

“Huh?” Izumi wrinkled her brows. While not entirely unexpected, per se, she didn’t think she would hear such a request from one of his majesty’s closest confidants.

However, no misunderstanding had occurred.

“Slay Mayeshwal III,” Carmelia continued, “by whatever means possible, at whatever cost necessary. I shall assist you in this task as I am able and offer my own house as your shelter for the duration of this quest. Following the successful completion of it, I will see to it that you walk free, with whatever earthly reward you may ask for. What do you say, human? Will you do it?”

It was an absurd, immoral request, which by all means demanded more time to be thought through.

However, Izumi didn’t consider her answer for long.

“I already told you, didn't I?” she said with a troubled frown. “I looked the guy in the eye, and he didn't seem that bad to me. I let him go once, and when I decide something, I try to stick to it too. No matter how I’m a woman, changing my mind every other day gets kinda nutty. So thanks for the offer, but I'm going to have to pass.”

“You were deceived,” Carmelia replied, unfazed. “The Emperor is not the kind of man you think he is. He is petty and prideful. Remorseless, ruthless, ingenious in his cruelty. He perceives himself to be the equal of the Old Gods, toying with his allies and enemies alike, and feels nothing for betraying them on a whim. He has set uniting all the races as his purpose—with himself as the tyrant to rule over them all, his Empire reigning supreme. His ambitions cannot be allowed to manifest.”

“Isn't that the best way to beat the daemons?” Izumi asked. “Either you put up with his bad personality in order to get everybody together, or else you're stuck fighting each other. Which is the lesser evil, then?”

“A valid point,” the elven woman remarked. “I also once found supporting his greed to be the most efficient course of action. But having grown to know the man better over the years, I have been forced to re-evaluate my stance. He is liable to cause more harm than he does good. Creating an alliance against the daemons was not the Emperor’s idea, no matter how he’s claimed authorship of it. This project has been long in the making. Too long for it to fail due to the shortcomings of his obsessive character. We will find another way. As we always have.”

“We?” Izumi repeated.

She waited for the sorceress to go on, and after a pause, Carmelia did.

“I am a member of a group that calls itself, Alantea Dalantiri, or 'Circle of Pale Ashes' in your tongue. For two hundred years, ever since the failed attempt to reclaim our homeland, we have been working in the shadows to unite the intelligent races for a second attempt. This time, leaving no card unplayed. Ushering peace by binding oaths of co-operation one way, eliminating unwanted obstacles elsewhere, we have crowned kings as well as overthrown them, started wars and prevented them, to steer the course of history in every land, towards this one goal. To defeat the daemons. In Noertia, we chose to support the Empire of Tratovia, because we deemed this nation to have the best possible prerequisites for controlling the other human nations. But the Emperor has gone too far. We extended to him a hand on the eve of our doom, and he presumes to take advantage of our collective plight to lord over us. His arrogance is unforgivable. No matter what, we cirelo will never bow to him. Each day that man draws breath adds a strain on our fragile alliance. Time is running out. If this goes on, our plans over two long centuries in the making will be returned to the ashes whence they were born. The Emperor must be removed—and be replaced with a ruler the nonhuman races may endorse. Otherwise, there will be no unity. Only slow decay, and the inevitable daemon apocalypse.”

Izumi listened patiently to the end.

As convincing as the argument was, her answer remained skeptical.

“No offense, but I have no guarantee that you’re telling me the truth, do I? What happened to your people seriously sucks, I admit, but it’s not any of my business either, is it? And I’m not the type to do just about anything for money. So why should I agree?”

“If you will not help us, then I can only return you to where I found you.”

“I don't mind,” Izumi said and turned towards the doorway. “It's not like I asked to be let out in the first place.”

“And what of the princess?”

Izumi stopped.

“The Emperor will not let her go,” Carmelia said. “And there will be no peace with Langoria. All the pieces are already in position. Very soon, his majesty will declare an open war on her highness’s kingdom, burn the towns and villages, destroy all who oppose, enslave those who submit. He will humiliate her family before the child's eyes, then tear them apart, before burning her at the stake to crush the hearts of her people. And he will do so with a smile on his face. That is the manner of a man he is.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Izumi recalled the face of the ruler she had so nearly cut down in the Throne Room.

The cold, steady resolve in his eyes.

“...I don't believe you,” she said, but couldn't be quite sure anymore. “Either way, you're a Court Wizard, aren't you? A super cool magician, and an elf to boot. Can't you make the guy disappear with a spell or two? What do you even need me for?”

“I cannot act on my own,” the cirelo woman quietly answered. “Firstly, because everyone would know it was me. I am not here simply to offer my services as a master of mysticism. I am also an emissary representing my kind among humans. My being appointed a Court Wizard was, above all, a symbolic and a political gesture. A token of the co-operation between our peoples. And it is also through this high-profile position that the Empire can better keep an eye on me. Were I to make an attempt on his majesty’s life, it would mean war. A war on two fronts, which we cirelo cannot afford. However, even though he’s aware of our precarious position, the Emperor does not trust me. To that man, I will always remain only an outsider and a nuisance. And should he ever feel threatened on my part, it would mean the end of my life. If it’s to save our cause, even I am expendable, and he knows this. It leaves me with no other choice, but to depend on the aid of an outsider. It has to be a subtle blow in the dark, by an unaffiliated hand. An operator no one knows, has never heard of, as if they had not even existed before. Such as a human summoned from another world…”

The sorceress concluded her speech in those heavy words.

Izumi stood still, quietly thinking for a moment.

Killing the Emperor—no matter how she looked at it, her talents were being grossly overestimated. True enough, she had planned to do so before and had very nearly succeeded too. But only because she’d had the element of surprise. As said, she had come out of nowhere and existed outside anyone’s expectations. It had worked in her favor in this random, spur-of-the-moment act. But that advantage was now lost. Would she get so lucky the second time?

No way, right?

Then again, the target did believe her to be locked up in a prison...No, it was still a little too absurd. What reason did she have to risk her life, anyway?

It would have been only naïve to trust the word of this person she knew nothing about and who clearly had her private stake in the matter. Carmelia had every reason to hate humans, and Izumi in particular. It was unlikely that even success would keep her from a terrible fate, betrayed and eliminated to tie up the loose ends. In the event that she made it out alive, Izumi would only find herself an outlaw pursued by the largest nation on the continent, in addition to a shady organization of killers and schemers.

Only a complete idiot would agree to such a job, for any reward.

Therefore, after calmly and rationally assessing all the available options, Izumi made up her mind.

“Okay,” she nodded and faced Carmelia. “Try say, 'please help me, nyan~!' while holding your paws up like a cat, and I'll do it. Like this. Do your best to sound like a cute little kitty too!”

Izumi mimicked a beckoning cat with her hands.

“...Excuse me?” the sorceress blinked with a blank look.

“Now, if you get all upset with me, then I'll know your pride was more important to you than saving the world, and all of this was just so many words. After which I'll gladly return to my cell and go back to sleep. Well? How about it?”

“...”

Following a brief moment of silent contemplation, Caalan Litha Nidh Vi Vaniphelia, age six thousand four hundred and eighty-two, raised her pale hands, coiled her long fingers into paw-like fists, and said,

“Please help me. Nyan.”

Watching it happen, cursing her luck for not having her smartphone with her, Izumi felt her heart skip a beat. No, the intensity of the effect would have been better described as a minor cardiac arrest. She thought she was going to faint on the spot. Death by pure bliss.

Blood rushed into her head as Izumi quickly recovered and answered,

“Got it. I'm on it. I'll do it. Please let me do it. Consider it done. An emperor here or there. Just to make sure, how many emperors are there in the world? Maybe I should kill them all, just in case. Yup, once you decide to do something, you had better do a thorough job, that's what my dumb dad would always tell me. So, where do I start? Just point the way! It's time for heads to start rolling! Hurry, hurry!”

“Where did this sudden zeal come from...?” Carmelia shook her head, suddenly feeling unusually exhausted.

2

It had been some time since princess Yuliana Da Via Brannan last awoke alone. This morning, she did. She found herself in a large room on the topmost floor of one of the sky-scraping towers surrounding the Imperial Palace. It was a room befitting a princess by any conceivable standards, far above the rooftops of the common citizens. The bed alone was as large as the tents that could fit a squad of soldiers on the field. Not that Yuliana’s own bed in the castle of Walhollem had been much smaller. She should have been well used to such luxury by now.

And yet, she was lonely. The princess would have gladly traded her spacious quarters for a corner in a rustic barn, if only it meant having someone there to greet the first light with. Alas, only static silence surrounded her, and so the princess wordlessly got up and dressed.

Gone were her regal orichalcum armor and the matching robe. In their place, she’d been given a lavender dress, beautifully embroidered, and a precise fit for her youthful form. The dress was eye-catching enough to make her status known while remaining functional as clothing, veiling her figure, and not hindering her movements. But even if the attire was in good taste, it also brought back unpleasant memories.

Gifts of the Empire never came without a painful cost, dresses in particular.

No matter how she was treated as a guest in name, the locked door alone showed the truth of the matter—that she was once again a prisoner to foreign powers.

As brave as she tried to be, Yuliana’s chest was heavy with concern. Not only over her own situation, of course.

What was to become of her friends?

Izumi was no doubt in the deepest pit of the city by now, awaiting her trial. That is, if a trial was ever going to be held, and she hadn’t already been executed off the record. Her crime, if any, would have justified the cruelest of verdicts. The mere thought left the princess restless and kept her awake late into night, until the accumulated fatigue from the days on the road finally stole her to uninterrupted slumber.

Now that she was awake, Yuliana spent time restlessly pacing back and forth in her room, unable to bring herself to admire the breathtaking skyline outside the window of her chamber. No, her room was too high up already. Going too close to the opening in the wall made her turn immediately away with a nauseating fit of vertigo.

When not concerned over Izumi’s plight, Yuliana was reminded of that of her mentor. Even if the uncannily crafty earthling could somehow take care of herself, Miragrave’s situation was hardly any better. How would the Emperor reward the Colonel’s failure, the decimation of the Imperial elite company for no tangible gain, culminating in the delivery of an assassin to the court?

In a way, this case was even more desperate than the previously mentioned. For whatever sentence would be given to her, fair or not, Miragrave would surely endure it without a word of complaint, and no intention to escape it. Such was her character, that even if no one would openly condemn her, she would condemn herself, and carry out the punishment with her own two hands. Even so, Yuliana wanted her to live.

It was hopeless to question whether her two friends deserved mercy or not.

No justice was on their side.

Yet, Yuliana loved both and wanted them to live, that was all.

Their lives, including the princess’s own, were now on the Emperor’s palm. They could be saved through no earthly battle or a duel, but only through the change of his majesty’s heart.

The princess couldn’t afford to forget the goal of her visit to Bhastifal either, which included pleading for the safety of her own kingdom. She wanted not only to save the lives of those close to her, but also the lives of her people. Wanting all, while having nothing to give in return, she was clearly asking too much and she knew it.

Yet, she had to succeed somehow. Nothing else but perfect success would do. Failure was simply not an option in any event.

By whatever means necessary—she had to convert the Emperor to her side!

Torn by painful impatience, Yuliana waited for servants to come to interrupt her confinement and tell her what she wanted to hear the most: when the ruler of the City of Lords would agree to see her again.

Eventually, not soon enough for Yuliana, but sooner than could be reasonably expected, a pair of female handmaids unlocked the door and stepped in to wake her up and dress her. Finding the princess already both awake and appropriately clothed, they simply combed and braided her hair and applied light makeup.

In the process, Yuliana’s heart started to race faster and faster.

Why were they prettying her up, if not to meet someone important? Her wild hopes were lit to open blaze when one of the maids announced,

“Your highness. You are to join his majesty for breakfast. Please follow.”

Yuliana was led down from the tower and through the maze-like battlements towering over the streets of Selenoreion. The heights remained dizzying. The princess could only sigh in relief when they finally arrived in a garden on a west side terrace where no treacherous falls loomed too close.

There were several gardens around the palace, but this one was perhaps the most intimate of them. In other words, the smallest. It was the one best suited for a quiet, private breakfast, while still providing a good deal of fresh air in the company of exotic, fragrant flora. The center of the vast terrace was paved with white marble, with a long, slim table of dark wood on it, shielded by a canopy of common hop, which coiled around a framework of engraved ebony.

There were only two chairs, at both ends of the table, respectively.

His majesty was already there, admiring the morning and the pale blue sky, where isolated, fragmented clouds basked in the sun’s powerful rays. As soon as a male servant announced the princess’s arrival, the Emperor quickly stood to receive her.

“Your highness, I am glad you could join me,” he told her in his deep voice.

His attire was slightly less formal than last night, albeit no less black, with the collar of his shirt left casually unbuttoned. There was quite a speech Yuliana had thought to greet him with, but he already gestured her to go on before she could present a word. “Please, have a seat.”

Yuliana at one end of the table, the Emperor of Tratovia at the other—in spite of the warm reception and the uplifting weather, the tension was palpable.

Servants poured them tea. Red tea, leaves imported from the faraway island of Higoa in the east. Taking a sip, Yuliana went through her dialogue options again.

Which pressing matter should she bring up first? The fate of her friends? Or that of her country? Before she could decide, the Emperor made the decision for her.

“I want you to help me negotiate an alliance with your father,” he announced.

The man certainly didn't waste time getting to the point.

“An alliance?” Yuliana hesitantly repeated.

“Open war with Langoria would be meaningless,” he explained, predicting her thoughts. “What I want is not land or villages, far less the villagers themselves. We have enough mouths to feed as is. No, it’s access to the southern harbors of your kingdom that I seek. Military access, to be precise. So far, war has appeared to be the only viable option to achieve that, but perhaps not now. With your highness here, maybe there is a way we can reestablish the diplomatic connection we’ve lost as of late. Do you think you could lend me your aid in this endeavor?”

“What does your majesty need our harbors for?” Yuliana frowned, recalling the geography of the continent. Southern Langoria was far detached from the rest of the civilized world, the harbors employed mainly by fishing vessels.

“For access to the Numénn sea,” the Emperor answered, as if it were perfectly obvious. “No. Access to Amarno.”

“Amarno?”

The answer didn’t help her confusion, apparent on her face.

The man went on to explain,

“Yes. As vast as my Empire is, proper sea access is something of a limited luxury at the moment. In the west, Felorn forms a vast, impenetrable barrier for the most direct path to the Edrian Bay. In the northern waters, Melgier’s villainous pirates harass our ships, plunder our traders, and sabotage our shipyards. The Prince of Luctretz is incapable of dealing with the problem, allowing pirate king Cartognam to roam free. Hunting pirates while the principality shelters their ships and the uncharted isles of Girdan hide their bases is a waste of time. Time, which we do not have. I need harbors to assemble and outfit a fleet. Access to the untamed, untouched southern seas through the lands of Langoria—that is what I need.”

Yuliana couldn’t hide her involuntary shudder.

“Surely you can’t be thinking of...”

“An all-out assault on the realm of daemons, yes,” the Emperor leaned his elbows on the table and crossed his fingers. “It has to be now. Now or never. After all, this year may very well be our last in this world.”

“Gelsemanhe’s prophecy,” Yuliana quietly said. “Unless the Trophaeum is conquered by the winter solstice, and someone righteous restores the world again, the Age of Chaos will begin. And—”

“—All built by living hands will fall to ruin,” the man nodded. “You know your history.”

“I thought it was only a myth. Can it be real? I...Will we make it in time? There’s so little time left.”

“We must.”

Yuliana looked down at her tea cup, and the plate beside it on which a slice of toasted, gold-brown bread had appeared, together with a perfectly cooked vrill egg, and select, bright-colored vegetables. She didn’t have an appetite.

“Father will not listen to me,” she said. “He doesn’t believe in the prophecy or the Covenant. He thinks it’s just an old fairy tale, that the Tower isn’t real. What’s worse, he thinks I’m a traitor. He must believe that I ran off because I’m conspiring against him, like everybody else. You must know, my father hasn’t been himself lately. He sees threats and schemes everywhere. I fear his high age has gotten to him. Coming to him with such a fable now would only enrage him more. There’s no way I can convince him, when I'm...”

“We’ll convince him together,” the Emperor told her in an assuring tone. “This isn’t only your fairy tale anymore. I will not leave you to shoulder this burden alone. The might of the Empire will be behind you. He has no choice but to listen. Or else face annihilation.”

“So you’ll go to war then? If he refuses?”

“What other choice do I have?” he shrugged. “Either Langoria burns. Or the world will.”

“What if—what if the prophecy isn’t true? We have no proof of it, do we? What if we are starting something we cannot take back, and it’s for no reason at all? A great many people could lose their lives. I was prepared to sacrifice myself to protect the Covenant. Even if it turned out that I had made a mistake, I would’ve been the only one to pay the price. But the thought of so many innocent people, for possibly no cause—I couldn’t live with that.”

“The future is set in stone,” the Emperor replied. “The Covenant is real, and so is the price of its breaking. There can be no mistake about that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because so I've been told.”

“Told? By who?”

“The true Lords of Bhastifal,” he said. “Those who were there to see the prophecy made.”

“Divines…?” Yuliana waited to see the man crack a smile, a sign that he was joking, ridiculing her. He showed none, remaining stern, and so she continued with a look of disbelief. “Your majesty can speak with spirits...? You mean to say they actually exist? In here? In this city? I’m sorry, but I find that a little...incredible.”

“Oh, they do exist.” The Emperor took his fork and knife, cut a large slice off of his crunchy toast and ate it with a good appetite.

“Ask them yourself, if you don't believe me.”