King Jugo the Third had been enjoying his day. His prophets and soothsayers foresaw great fortune in his kingdom’s future after his recent discovery. Perhaps more importantly than wealth, they had also seen his land gain in power. Power to rise from a third-rate oft-forgotten kingdom to a true monolith. The achievement wouldn’t even cost him anything. Not if he was careful how he went about things.

If he managed his goal his people would be safe, well fed, and happy. They would not need to worry about some larger, more powerful kingdom announcing trade tariffs or making aggressive military action. His nobles would be able to stop pinching every penny and work to turn their cities into edifices of modern greatness. Every member of the nation would gain wealth beyond anything they had hoped for and he himself would be absolutely drowning in gold.

Yes, the future was looking bright. Right up until his steward had crashed through the doors into his personal quarters, sweating dripping from his brow and gasping for breath. For a moment Jugo debated punishing the man on pure principle, but whatever he had come for would be incredibly important to drive him to this state. Liam was shorter than Jugo by almost an entire head, nearly twenty years his senior, and rather portly. All considered, Jugo could count on one hand the number of times he had seen the steward moving at anything faster than a dignified stroll.

“My Lord! You must make your way to the Throne Room! Immediately!” The man took just long enough to gasp the words out before doubling over, his lifestyle and age betraying him.

The words sent another brief flash of rage through Jugo’s mind, but he contained his wrath to nothing more than a slight steel in his voice as he responded. “Steward, I am King of this nation and you would do well to remember that. There is nothing that I must do. Now who has come to visit us?”

Paling slightly at the tone, Liam forced his breathing under control and dropped to one knee. “I apologize my Lord. A Voice of the Herald of the Storm requests a meeting. She awaits you in your Throne Room.”

Liam’s words sent ice through Jugo’s veins. His annoyance with the man was instantly snuffed out, replaced by fear. The Herald of the Storm had true strength and wide-ranging influence. Far more than any great power in his or any of the surrounding nations. A being strong enough to freely travel the entire world without fear of attack. If one of her ten voices, each a favored servant personally selected and trained to deliver her messages to the world, had come it meant something important had happened. Something with global implications.

And he could only think of one think that met that description.

One day the visit of a mere voice would mean nothing, but not today. Today was far too early to dare raise a Voice of the Storm’s ire. If the Voice believed he didn’t respect their mistress, there wouldn’t be a city left. None of the Voices had done something like that in almost two centuries, but such demonstrations tended to leave a lasting impression. Better to be polite then wiped off the map.

“Give me a moment to put on something more appropriate for a guest such as this and we will return. Who is entertaining the Voice currently?”

“Lady Vell had begun a conversation with the honored Voice before I left. She has been studying weather patterns of the nation over the last few generations. The Voice seemed to take enjoyment in expanding Lady Vell’s education on the subject.”

That was a relief. If the Voice was enjoying herself, she would likely be more willing to give him the benefit of the doubt before she determined they needed a lesson in respect. If he was careful and did nothing to annoy her, she might even leave with a good impression of their nation. That would be enough to make them a dominant power in the area. No true powerhouse on a global scale, but beyond the reach of their more local rivals. Which of their neighbors would dare attack them if they had a Voice’s favor?

As he changed into a new set of clothes, a set usually reserved for multinational gatherings or important ceremonies, Jugo began to plan. “This is an opportunity Liam. Do everything in your power to prepare the most impressive gift we can for the Voice. Have it ready within the hour. We must send her on her way with something that will remind her of her enjoyment of Lady Vell’s company. Additionally, arrange a meeting between myself and Lady Vell. Depending how much favor she curries, we might need to tie her more tightly to the royal line.”

“Of course, my Lord, I will leave immediately.”

Liam had already begun backing out of Jugo’s personal quarters and the King called one more order at his retreating form, “And get the chefs to work! I don’t care on what, as long as it is delicious. Just tell them to get something suitable together for her. Whatever the expense!”

#

There were ten Voices of the Storm, but each was known only as Voice. At least as far Jugo knew. They obviously had names, if only to make gatherings between themselves easier, but anyone who had earned the privilege of learning one of the Voices’ names wasn’t sharing. It made interacting with them unpredictable. They were, after all, very different individuals. Words that one might take as idle conjecture another might see as an unforgivable insult. Jugo was personally of the opinion this was a purposeful side effect, meant to keep those meeting with a Voice off balance.

The particular Voice visiting Jugo was a woman of medium height, her face hidden behind a golden mask. The majority of design was minimalistic, giving only the vague outline of a serene smile and high cheekbones. On her forehead a heavily stylized eye rested, with a rune sitting inside the pupil. The Sky’s Eye, the symbol of The Storm.

The rune was older than the Voices. Older than the Herald. So old that no one in his kingdom knew which had come first, The Sky’s Eye or The Storm. Officially the rune was simply a symbol of Storm Magic. It wasn’t uncommon to see it in even low-level Lightning Magic before an individual developed their own personal rune for their spells to adopt the form of. Unofficially though…There were only rumors of the amount of power required to tie oneself so indelibly to an entire branch of magic that your rune became synonymous with the element.

The woman was dressed in flowing white robes that seemed to move in a nonexistent breeze, covering almost any distinguishing features. Practical boots extending up to her knees covered her feet. Only her hands remained bare, dusky skin telling him that at least she was not one of the two voices known to be particularly sensitive to insults. Old records from his grandfather’s rule warned against angering a male Voice with red hair split by a pair of black horns and wide shoulders, while he himself had received word a decade or two ago of a voice with “fur as white as fresh fallen snow and eyes blue like a winter morning” that wiped out the entire royal line of a kingdom on the other side of the continent for insults to The Herald.

The Voice was near one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows toward the center of the throne room, deep in conversation with Lady Vell. She noticed the moment he entered of course, turning just barely toward him, but did not break from her conversation. While normally this would be an unforgivable insult, at the moment Jugo could only sigh in relief. That was a good sign and implied she did not hold anything against him for making her wait.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Forcing himself to smile widely as he approached her, Jugo spoke as brightly as he could manage. “Honored Voice, I hope you have not had to wait too long and trust that the company of the ever-impressive Lady Vell was satisfactory.”

Inclining her head lightly in greeting to him, the Voice said a few more quiet words to the lady before fully turning to him. As Lady Vell retreated from the room, the Voice responded. “It was a pleasure King Jugo. While I have not made as much of a study of natural sciences as some of my fellows, it is always a joy to share what knowledge I have with those seeking it.”

“On behalf of my people I thank you for your guidance, Lord Voice. It is the ultimate desire of myself and my family to raise this kingdom to the greatest heights we can manage and even a moment of your time is a near priceless treasure to us.”

The Voice stared at him for a moment, and Jugo could feel every cell in his body seize up under her scrutiny. Then the moment passed and he could barely prevent a sigh of relief. “It is an admirable wish for a king, the betterment of their people. I am pleased my knowledge could be put toward such a goal. Now, it is best I pass on my message. There are many I must still visit today.”

Unable to keep the surprise out of his voice, Jugo spoke out, “Already? We had anticipated treating you to the finest delicacies of our nation before you left. Can you not stay a little while to enjoy our hospitality?”

The voice’s eyes glinted with barely contained chuckles and Jugo knew she had seen through his plan to attempt to gain her favor. Her voice reflected only mild amusement as she responded, “Unfortunately not, King Jugo. Each of the Voices was sent out to give a message to every nation, kingdom, and empire we could reach today. I have already almost exceeded the time I allotted for visiting your kingdom. This entire continent is under my purview today and there are only so many hours in the day.”

Jugo felt his heart drop at that statement. He had hoped to have more time before others realized what had happened. Still, he kept his face and voice neutral, “It must be something of extreme importance then. Please, speak that I might listen. If there is anything our humble kingdom could provide to the Herald, we shall accommodate the request to the best of our limited abilities.”

“Nothing so onerous, I assure you,” pausing to reinforce the importance of her words, the Voice’s tone changed. Jugo felt the magic in the air as the Voice of the Herald caused the very air to quake. Her words became heavy and imperious, each one reinforced with cracks of electricity arcing through the air. “Hear me King Jugo, for I speak the words of the Herald of the Storm. The time is upon us. The First Migration has come and those of ancient worlds have joined us. I task all that would listen to refrain from interfering with those that have migrated to our world. Allow them to integrate with your people and do not hinder them. I do not request you aide them, allow them to rise or fall by their own talent. If they break your laws, punish them accordingly. If they accomplish great things, reward them proportionally. Treat them as you would any other citizen. Let us see how these Beta Testers manage in our world. I do this in my name and declare them under my protection.”

Magic dispersing, the Herald seemed to shrink slightly and the air returned to normal. Jugo himself continued to shiver, awed by the incredible display of power. This was what his kingdom needed. Champions with strength like this. Then her words fully sunk in. The Herald wanted him to ignore the Beta Testers?

Their arrival had been a surprise, and he only knew about them already through coincidence and extreme good fortune. One of them had appeared at the entrance to the local dungeon, the one his soldiers used for training, just as his Guard Captain had entered with a fresh batch of recruits. It hadn’t taken much to realize what the man was.

The existence of the Beta Testers may not have been common knowledge, but anyone of any importance had at least heard of The Alpha Testers and their prophecy. Nobody knew when The First Migration would happen, but they knew it would be shortly followed by The Final Migration. That after the Migrations they would be expected to share their world with newcomers. That this land was not to be theirs, but a bunch of strangers. Vast parts of the world remained untamed and ready for colonization, but protected by magic left behind by the Alpha Testers in preparation for the Migrants.

And the Herald simply wanted the Kings and Queens of the continents to ignore these interlopers? He had to know more. See how far he could push this order.

“Lord Voice, if I might ask, are we being asked to avoid all contact with the Migrants or entirely ignore the situation? Their presence could start a panic in those unfamiliar with what is coming and I, for one, would like to make preparations for when the Final Migration begins.”

The Voice’s reply was imperious and hard edged, “The Herald asks that you not interfere in their purpose. They would not ask that you risk the safety of your people though. Make your preparations, but do not go overboard. The Herald is watching.”

“Of course, of course. If I might ask one final question Lord Voice?”

Jugo’s next question was dangerous. It would mean giving up on any chance of the Herald leaving with a positive impression. He doubted she would decide he was disrespecting the Herald though. The answer was important too. It was bad enough if only the Herald was granting the Beta Testers protection. If it was more than that though…

The Voice nodded, masked face making it hard to tell what her opinion on his request was, “Speak, King Jugo. Ask your question quickly, I must head to the Nation of Adamel soon.”

Wincing even as he said it, knowing no matter what this next bit would be poorly received, Jugo asked his question, “Does this order come from just the Herald of Storms? Or do they speak for their father as well?”

Instantly the temperature in the room plummeted. “Do you think so highly of yourself that you could ignore the Herald as just another individual in the Court of the Storm?”

Jugo could feel the indignation and rage of the Voice as a thousand crackles of static along his skin. He had made a mistake and if he did not talk quickly, this woman would destroy him. “Of course not! Forgive this foolish mortal for his mistake! I simply wished to ensure I understood the full gravity of the situation! If He was moving, I would fear for the coming years and make plans to safeguard my people! That is all! I swear it!”

It was true too. The Herald was powerful, but if He was moving to protect the Beta Testers…The only safety for his kingdom would be absolute and unquestioning obedience. Even that might not be enough to protect them if one of the neighboring kingdoms drew his ire. It was hard to smash just one ant in a swarm under your boot.

Releasing a contemptuous breath, the Voice returned to her former placid self. The only sign of her irritation was a slight steel in her words. A coldness that had not been there previously. “Rejoice, mortal. He still sleeps. The sky remains clear and nature smiles upon us.”

With a boom of thunder and a flash of light so intense it blinded him for long seconds, the Voice disappeared from her throne room. The carpet she had been standing on now had a charred circle and small pieces of burning fabric danced in the powerful gust that filled the room, though the wind quickly faded away. She should not have been able to do that, the castle had no less than three different wards to prevent teleportation and other forms of instant transportation.

Laughing weakly as he shook his head, Jugo could only wryly ask the empty room, “Since when did impossible matter to an S rank?”

#

Later that night, Jugo enjoyed the feast that had been meant for the Voice. By the time the message to cancel the meal had made it to the kitchen, the food had already been procured and Jugo had decided he would simply enjoy the meal himself. It was exquisite, far beyond what even he was used to as the King of Theln. Every time he thought of the conversation with the voice though, it tasted like ashes in his mouth.

“What do you wish to do my Lord?” Liam asked, as ever a calm voice of reason.

What did he want to do? He had to make a decision. It would be foolish to go against the Herald, at least in most cases. Would the rewards be worth it though? It was hard to say. They didn’t have all the information yet.

“Continue as we were for now. Ask him about what his old world was like. We’ve already broken the Herald’s decree and there is no point crying over spilled milk. We can’t afford to approach another though, not right now. We will see what this one knows and make our decision once we have a better picture of the benefits.”

“As you say my Lord. I will bring him his portion of the meal and see what I can learn.”

“Thank you, Liam.”