Elaria was a storm of intrigue, all wrapped up in a motherly face, a pleasant voice, and an apparent desire to help. Mark wasn’t sure how much of all of it was an act, or if there was no act at all, and she was simply all tact and phrasing and being reasonable, all to present the idea that cultists and dragons weren’t to be feared, and instead respected… Or something.

Mark glanced down at his tea, and then back up at Elaria. “I came in here with the goal of asking about getting some shavallian to use against Tartu, to put him down for two days. But Aurora commanded a moratorium on HVP stuff, and according to what I heard from Barba Sacredcut, there’s divide between the cultists and the… the whatever else you call the other side—”

“Dragonists and imperials,” Elaria supplied.

“… Dragonists and imperialists,” Mark continued, “There’s a divide, and Aurora is walking that divide. Am I some sort of pawn in a game of politics I barely understand? Some game between the cultists and imperials? Is Tartu a pawn as well? The instrument of those imperials? I know I’m a pawn in the Hero/Villain Program, put there by Addavein for Addavein to find approval as a superhero, but… I suppose there are proxy wars everywhere? Is the HVP stuff a proxy for the cultist and imperial stuff?”

Elaria looked at Mark, listening intently, then she took a moment to sip her hot tea. Her vector was calm, though she was still pointed at Mark. Was she trying to figure out what to say? Or how to say it without offending? Mark thought the second option was more likely.

A moment passed.

Isoko sipped her tea, too.

Mark bit into a cookie and didn’t taste it at all. He wondered what Isoko thought about this thing happening in front of them right now. She was better at this political game than him. That’s what happened when you were raised around powerful people all the time. Isoko and Eliot, actually, were both more capable of navigating this situation than him. Him and Sally were poor bastards from the Protocol side of town—

“Both imperialists and dragonists want the same thing, Mark,” Elaria said. “We both want a world with people who are free to do what they want without too much duress because all of the big threats are handled. So yes, you are a proxy in politics. You don’t have to be, though. You have choices.

“Ever since the Reveal and the solidification of the System and the Veil under Malaqua, we have powerhouses capable of acting as dragons in their own right, even if they’re not actually dragons. Aurora, for one. Before the Reveal and Malaqua taking over the System, do you know the number of people who had power comparable to my daughter?

“None.

“And now there’s Aurora, and Glorious Man, and many others.

“Several others of lesser rank, but better than the average dragon before the reveal, exist in this very settlement. My daughter is still the strongest of them all, of course.” Elaria grinned. “Though Kandon has beaten her in a few bouts when they were younger! That was fun to see simply because it was, but they’re both past the needs of youth to prove themselves as powerful.

“For Earth, there’s Glorious Man. All of the teams of people at Crystal Tower, actually. The Aluatha Empire has our Sentinels. The Gardeners of Okuana. The Fates of Xerkona are not exactly human, but they are firmly on the side of humanity, so I would count them as well.

“Etcetera.

“There are too many powers capable of defending this world to name them all.

“So we’re good, Mark.

“The world still needs heroes —it absolutely does!— and I can speak for many when I say that we absolutely want you to be one of those heroes, but we’re not on the brink. Not anymore.

“Imperials want more humans to rise up to power, because of course they do, while the dragonists want dragons, because dragons happen, and it is better to have them as a part of society than outside of society, causing problems. The imperials think that humans are better suited for humanity, which I can respect, but we think that dragons are easier to make, and they care a lot about humanity, if they are allowed to care. Mostly they just like tribute and to dominate an area, which means ensuring no kaiju live there and the people who do live there give them nice things. It’s a very simple exchange, in my opinion.

“In a lot of ways, both sides are equally good at making a better world.

“And so, you are a proxy for a lot of things right now.

“So, if you went and kicked the shit out of Tartu, you’d be sent to the brig for a few days. Throwing your weight around is always an option.

“It was only because of the HVP that Tartu was allowed to harm you at all, but that’s over for now.

“Or, you could wait 2 months, and then get away with another fight under the auspices of the HVP, and not suffer any blowback at all. If he tried to get you back inside of those 2 months, then he’d be headed for the brig as well.

“It’s your choice of what you want to do. The world is made up of people, more than it is made up of institutions. In a fair fight, I doubt you’d lose to him again.”

… Now there’s an option.

Just be a bastard and go kick a fellow bastard in the balls. Maybe a few times, just to be sure Tartu got the message.

Mark asked, “Is that really what the cultists believe? That I can… just fuck him up and it won’t matter?”

“Oh it will matter, for sure. You will make an enemy of Tartu, though I suspect he has already made an enemy of you. Such a course of action would likely prevent both you and Isoko from learning magery from Tartu’s father, the Grand Mage Solari. But don’t worry about that. Power will be yours, of that I have no doubt.” Her eyes seemed to shine amber, as her gaze focused on Mark, on the world beyond, on something just outside of Mark’s ability to sense. Elaria intoned, “The road is long and dangerous, but if you have the fortitude to walk it, to stomp those who need stomping, to kill that which needs killing, to be an Inquisitor who knows what needs to be done and then you do it, you will arrive at true Power. But if you submit to the shackles required to be protected by the Empire, for any reason at all, then you will cut yourself short.”

There was a lot there.

Mark would spend a while, later, thinking about being high profile enough to be allowed to see the halls of power, but high profile in a bad way, and being denied entry into those halls of power. But for now, he knew what he had to do.

Using items in a grudge fight was for wusses, anyway.

Duchess Elaria Valen turned to Isoko, and said, “Your Skill, Platinum Body, will take you through dragonfire and demonspawn. You wish for Protection and Flight? They will be trinkets for you, once you understand what you can actually do; what your Skill means. Mark will be fine when he understands what he is, and though you will need more training, you will arrive at those distant shores of power just the same. I have an offer for you: Stomp Tartu with Mark, get in the brig with him, and I will make sure that you learn those magics and more besides, though those lessons will not come from Grand Mage Solari at all. And they will never come from him. Are you prepared for that?”

Isoko breathed a little.

Mark almost had questions—

“And that’s a good spot to end this, for now,” Elaria smiled a little, saying, “But one last thing before I end this meeting: To call us cultists is an offense that I have had to endure for several decades, ever since Earth and Daihoon spotted each other across the torn Veil and facts spread poorly. The Imperial family and the other nations of Daihoon made sure that the stories happened that way, though, so I do not blame you. But to educate, in the here and now: ‘cultist’ means Thrashtalon. ‘Dragonist’ is what we call ourselves.

“We kill cultists on sight, same as anyone else who knows what’s what.”

Mark and Isoko both tensed.

Neither of them had known that, it seemed.

Mark spoke, “Apologies. I did not know there was a difference.”

Isoko just nodded slightly.

“I am not offended, Mark. I truly am not offended. We haven’t had the political power necessary to be able to tell people the difference in a long, long time.” Elaria grinned. “Still can’t!” She digressed, “Outside of small conversations like this, anyway.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Mark wanted to ask what the difference was, since they both trafficked in demons, and the Inquisitors killed the hidden dragons that Addashield had put onto Earth and Daihoon in the bodies of Addashield’s Contract-demanded Tutorial-takers. But that seemed like something you asked after a month of working with someone like Elaria. This was Aurora’s mother, for gods sakes—

Isoko said, “But if we use the term ‘dragonist’ outside, then people will know we’ve heard dragonist theories. That’s only one step removed from being called dragonists ourselves, and that cannot be as acceptable as you make it out to be. People will think Mark is a hidden dragon.”

Mark’s eyes went wide—

Elaria easily said, “Dragonists are not cultists. People in-the-know are aware of the differences. The layperson will never know the term ‘dragonist’ at all, because if Mark uses the proper terms, and if he is caught on tape saying ‘dragonist’ instead of ‘cultist’, then the AIs in charge of Curtain Protocol will scrub that information away and change it to ‘cultist’. The only way to ever know that term is to experience it in person, or to use specialty magics to uncensor videos.”

Ah! Of course. Fucking Curtain Protocol again.

Mark came right out and asked, “Why are dragonists and cultists lumped together? Is it because they have a lot of similar backing in the demons?”

“Well… Aside from the imperials trying to shove dragonists into the dark, so that we’re never heard from again…” Elaria too-easily said, “The two groups do have some things in common, but only to the layperson. Dragonists use demons to make archmages that might then make dragons. There is risk in that action. There is great reward for humanity, as well. A demon in a proper Contract produces an archmage that can then become a shelter in the storm of life, and in death, they become a mountain blocking the hurricane completely.

“But cultists are collaborators with demons, creating Contracts that allow the demons to do whatever they want, in exchange for doing what the cultist wants first. Cultists are collaborators. That is the main difference that most do not know.

“Cultists are evildoers that corrupt civilization to their own evil ends. They believe that if the demons are happy then they won’t kill as much as they are capable of killing, and there is no truth to that at all.” With an undying, quiet hatred, Elaria said, “Cultists are selfish trash who need to be burned like the trash they are before their corruption can infect everyone else.”

The glint in her eyes, the force of her vector, these things would stick in Mark’s mind for a long time.

A moment and then a minute passed in small words as Elaria pulled back, saying something soft about ‘getting too serious there!’ with a small laugh of nerves, or something else. The meeting ended there, in pleasantries spoken, and in secrets hidden from view and speaking once again.

Mark couldn’t tell exactly how they left the room, only that they did. His thoughts were too thick to keep track of them all.

Mostly, he felt an unsettling anger.

Was Elaria using him? Probably. Mark was already being used by a lot more than Elaria, though, from the HVP and Addavein and then to whatever insane thing Tartu was trying to accomplish with his particular imperialist shit. At least Elaria told him the full lay of the land. Mark appreciated that.

And he and Elaria agreed on one big fact —though everyone agreed on that sort of fact— that demons must die and that cultists must go into the fires with them.

The rulers of humanity needed to be human, though the degree of humanity present in that ruler was apparently up for debate.

Mark was sure, if he would have asked directly, that Elaria would have said 95% was a fine ratio of human to have in a ruler, meaning Mark’s ‘brother’. But Mark didn’t want to ask that direct of a question. Not right then. Not right now. Elaria might have told him the truth, but she might have also tried to speak with more tact than truth, and Mark didn’t want to hear any more tact right now.

There was a knot in his stomach. A lump in his throat. But also...

A desire to fight.

And not with fucking words. Not with anything as worthless as pandering for the camera in the Hero/Villain Program, or even with talking to nobles and playing their games.

Fists were a good choice of weapon right now.

Mark left the Healer’s Guild with Isoko striding beside him, both of their eyes focused ahead. Isoko seemed calm, but she was always that sort of way. Mark appreciated that. Mark’s adamantium writhed upon his ankles and his wrists, while his heart beat with darkness and his eyes shimmered silver. He was, perhaps, more angry than her right now, though Mark wasn’t sure of his actual emotion at all. All he knew was that he needed a target.

He had a target. He had had a target for the last few days.

It was a target chosen for him by people far above him, but that was fine. Mark had been labeled a villain before he got a chance to become who he actually wanted to be, and villains were supposed to break the rules, after all. So it was time to just break the rules, because yeah, Mark didn’t need trinkets to win a real fight. Not against Tartu, anyway.

A few days in the brig?

That was fine by him.

Mark looked up at the sun beyond the auroras, and then he looked down at the massive tram station, at the sweeping views and at the crowds of people that were dwarfed by the station itself. There were only 11,000 people in the settlement, but only a few dozen here right now, and the station was built to handle half a million people. Big screens illuminated the time frames for departures and arrivals, and estimated times to this or that place.

Mark looked for and found the listing for ‘Mage Society’. It was a 5 minute trip on the eastward track, to some buildings that Eliot had built the other day when Mark was recovering—

“Good,” Isoko said, standing beside Mark. Her dark eyes glittered platinum at the edges and her fingernails were already reflective. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go right away or not. I’m ready right now.”

Mark felt a lightness in his chest at those words. He almost wanted Sally to be here, but Isoko had been at his side for the last 3 months of monster kills outside of Memphi. She was a real villain, by birth and choice, while Mark was just a villain by circumstance.

Sally was with Eliot, doing something somewhere else, and neither of them were actual villains. Isoko was in the HVP as Platinum Princess, following in the footsteps of her family’s long history of villainy. Sally and Eliot had just joined the program because Mark was forced to join.

“The brig doesn’t sound so bad,” Mark commented as he smiled a little and walked toward the station. “Hard bread. Water. That’s how they do it on Daihoon, right? That’s fine.”

“It’s a bath and spa.”

Mark guffawed. “What!”

“I knew I would end up in there at least once, so I asked Eliot to make the brig Earth-style,” Isoko said. “Funny thing was he was already planning on doing the brig in the Earth-style, and Aurora had already approved of the brig modifications a month ago. It caused some political drama, but I think you missed that drama. Hunting some big monster outside of Memphi, I think.” She smirked. “I had a big hovercar test that weekend so I was at home hearing all about it from Eliot.”

Mark chuckled as he walked onto the tram destined for ‘Mage Society’, with Isoko right beside him, saying, “I think I remember that now. There were some chat logs about all of that.”

They got into the station, and found the tram headed east. It was easy enough, and the trams were running all the time, even without people in them. Electricity was cheap, thanks to Eliot and a bunch of generators buried in the grounds in multiple locations all across the settlement.

As the tram began rolling down the line with just the two of them on their tram, Mark looked out the window at the grasslands flowing by…

And his anger flagged.

He wondered if this was the right thing to do.

… He rapidly came to the conclusion that the people in charge had failed him utterly, so it was time to fuck authority and do his own shit, on his own schedule.

… Ah.

Mark’s ‘problems with authority’ thing was returning, wasn’t it.

Mark frowned as he looked out the window, thinking about what had happened back there in that meeting. Had Elaria played him, to make him head this direction? A small comment like ‘3 days in the brig’ was all it took to get Mark and Isoko pumped up for a fight.

Mark asked, “Are we being controlled?”

Isoko easily rattled off, “Yes, and no. Think of it more as permission given outside of normal channels, and with severe backlashes that could be made more severe if we ever tell anyone that Elaria hinted that we should do this. So don’t go talking about the ‘ists’, or whatever.”

“I guess so. Yeah.” Mark nodded.

“I’m ready to sign up with the Valens for magical learning, and I bet it’ll be a lot better than with the Grand Mage, who wasn’t even willing to give you the time of day. That said: The best outcome of this is you and I being thrown in the brig for two or three days. Worse could happen, though exile is not one of those things.” She pointed at the emergency stop button all red and surrounded by black and yellow warning paint. “We could stop and turn around.”

Mark shook his head. “We’re going, and if Tartu isn’t at Mage Society, then we’ll go to his home in the Noble District.”

Isoko nodded. “Got a plan for finding him?”

“I do, but I can’t trigger it yet.” Mark looked to Isoko, saying, “Thanks for being here, Isoko.”

Isoko grinned a little. “Anytime.”