True to their word, my parents allowed us to live rough without supervision just days after our demonstration. But not without conditions. Namely that my vassals would spend no less than two days per week at the estate for their lessons and that I would return for at least a day for ‘visitation’ purposes.
We set out at once after receiving the news from my father. Regretfully, however, it wasn't before Ebbet and Gerolt saw fit to dump a proverbial mountain of equipment and tools into my Shadow Pocket for safe storage. Regardless, we traveled for days across the island. Due north. Opposite in direction to Gerolt's supposed hunting grounds. Though this part and every other I could see was the same gigantic forest of icy trees mixed with comparatively smaller black saplings. It was... ethereal. Majestic. Even frustrating, after a few days of mundane marching. Thus I wasted no time sending everyone to work upon reaching the northern coast.
I almost felt bad snapping the others away from the views of the mainland. Then again, there would be time for that later. And it wasn't as if they needed much motivation. On the contrary, they only needed instructions- blueprints for a small, half-buried fort or castle with four bastions.
Toril both provided light and cleared snow with his flame while Jaimess and Jonet manipulated stresses and faults in the permafrost. Small and insignificant disturbances in the grand scheme of things; yet more than enough to excavate a waist-deep pit and compress the spoil into waist-high walls and pillars alike. Simultaneously, I was tinkering with the void to cut beams into posts and planks for above and below. And supports for around, evidently, as Jonet soon saw fit to pull ice from the permafrost around our abode and mold them into circular windows. Ice manipulated over the roof supports saw the exterior complete. Thus it was on to the inside to smooth walls, board floors, raise walls, and learn the art of making rocket stoves before we lit up the central hearth and claimed our abodes.
They were modest if not ascetic spaces. Torture chambers for royals and nobles alike. Only a desk, chair, rocket stove, and fur pelt resting atop a stone bed could be found inside. A reality that would surely pry the silver spoons from their mouths. Simultaneously, it was an opportunity to teach and be taught. A chance to be humbled and humble. And so I was, I ignored the gifts given from Ebbet and Gerolt. I declared a rule to our lives out here. A rule that demanded we make anything we wanted or needed with our own hands.
In that way, those years were a bit like a survival game; which, I supposed, was more true than I cared to admit. Regardless, we improved our compound over the following days. Garderobes were radially attached to our units, giving rise to the discussion of germ theory and the need for lime. Similarly, two large, dual-chambered stone chests were attached to the central room for food storage. An abundance of furniture, trinkets, tools, and toys, made exclusively from wood and stone were crafted. After two days of travel and two days of construction, we spent the next five days doing nothing but hunting, training, studying, and lounging about our home away from home until our first recall to the estate.
Our return saw us back to business. Back to training our assess off for weeks, months, and eventually years without pause. During which, we made steady improvements to both ourselves and our residence. Through our exploratory trips through the forest behind us and the expansive seas before us, we found many ruins and wreck sites that we greedily plundered for scrap metal, booty, bodies, and sometimes bottles that were mostly used to complete our kitchen entirely. Soon after, the clearing just south of our compound had been transformed into a proper outdoor gym. And quite the expansive one to boot, occupied by each of us in different ways. Toril practically lived with the stone-weight benches, squat racks, barbells, and dumbbells; Jaimess ran marathons around the canopied track; I ran the obstacle course from night until day; and to no one's surprise, Jonet skipped between all three on a daily basis.
Within a year, my vassals showed tremendous signs of growth and, more importantly, passion in all they did. But more so in their magic. Made evident by the rolling booms of thunder amidst the perpetual blizzard. In which many strange creatures of paper were swept helplessly. Within two years, I began tinkering with metallurgy to recycle all the metals I recovered from the sea floor. A wood stove was made alongside a rudimentary forge, giving us tools and blades of steel. Similarly, the others began delving into other crafts or fields of study. Meteorology, herbology, and ecology; to name a few. In the third year, they completed their formal education. Thus they found themselves with as much free time as me.
Our training only increased after that. For the entirety of the day and night, we’d fight, drill, and practice our developing spells until we nearly collapsed from fatigue. Breaking only to eat, shit, and sleep- or meditate- for eleven months. When things once again began to change.
It was shortly after my tenth birthday. the 11th of the 11th, 1485. We returned for our weekly visit like every other week before. Yet, it came with a looming sensation. A sense of foreboding melded with a familiar feeling. A feeling that loomed from our destination. A resonance that could have come from one individual.
“There he is.” Grandpa Lich turned his mountainous form as I entered the formal wing. "At ease, you three." He waved off those behind me who had all dropped to a knee, then danced his abyssal pupils over my suddenly tiny frame. I intently watched them stop at the locks resting gently atop my shoulders. Then to the shoulders themselves and back up to my eyes, where he somehow grinned wider through his beard while grunting. “You look good, Amun. Strong and capable. And your vassals too.” He added, peering over my shoulders.
“Thank you, Great Grandfather.” I bowed to him respectfully.
“Aye.” He waved the matter aside. “More importantly, I hear you’ve been struck with a bit of wanderlust. That you’ve been living rough out in the woods for over three years now. That you wish, above anything else, to travel.”
“That is true.” I slowly nodded, eying him with a curious gaze. “Are you here to take me to the mainland?”
“And for what reason should I?” He laughed oh so boisterously.
“I’m dying to see your prestigious boarding school. And,” I coyly added after a shrug, “it’ll be the perfect opportunity to scout out a few more vassals.”
“Hmmm. A few more vassals, eh?” Grandfather grumbled to himself as he stroked his long beard. “Very well.” He finally grunted, then turned to shout into the service wing. “Emeric! I’m taking the boy!”
“I’m right here, Granddad.” Father, standing less than a meter to his other side, sighed. “And very well. I planned to make my yearly trip to Odissi soon. It’ll be a good opportunity to introduce Amun to the noble houses. So, don’t mind if I accompany you there.”
“You heard him.” Grandpa Lich spat, turning back to face me. “Pack your things. We’re leaving in an hour.”
I watched as my vassals bowed and trotted off towards their quarters to retrieve the few things they still kept at the estate. With no Ebbet, Gerolt, or even mother in sight, it was only me and my literal forefathers. Bringing about a curiosity that always remained at the back of my mind.
“I’ve been wondering.” I slowly broke the silence. “Where is my grandfather? Who is my grandfather?”
“My father’s name is Azrael Cole.” Father sighed heavily; wearily. “Perhaps you’ll meet him one day.”
‘A.C.’ I suddenly remembered from the scroll I received years ago. “Where is he?”
“In the Under.” Grandpa Lich coldly spat. “He’s dead. And even if he could be turned undead, we don’t resurrect family. We commune only.”
“I see.” I nodded, turning to my father to bow. “I didn’t mean to open up old wounds.”
“Don’t fret, Amun,” Father reassured me by placing his hands on my shoulders. “I should have told you sooner.”
I bowed again before excusing myself to my room to lounge about and take in the environment for what could have possibly been the last time. My nursery was much the same as it’d been when I was younger, complete with the playroom, small library, and adjacent room. Having been so traveled, I usually wasn’t one to become so sentimental over something like a location. Or even things, for that matter. But, for some reason, I felt a deep connection to this space. The place in which I took my first breath. I was unsure if it was because of my vivid memory or from some magic I was yet unfamiliar with, but a part of me didn’t want to leave this place behind. As foolish as that felt to acknowledge.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Regardless, I had to do just that once the hour had passed. I left to rendezvous with my vassals in the service wing. But not before stopping by my mother for a few words of encouragement. The few bags we had and the several more we gained were stuffed away inside my Shadow Pocket, and after a few temporary goodbyes, we were on the trail heading north.
My grandfather abruptly halted us once the estate got lost in the woods behind us. Yet he said nothing. He only focused his shadow, greatly expanding and rising to form into... hair. Hair and... carapace. Carapace and legs upon legs upon eyes on eyes, all splayed out beneath Grandpa Lich's hulking form. “Get on!” He plopped down on the giant spider's back before turning to us with a childish grin. “And whatever you do.” He stopped himself with his giggles and went as far as to hide his mouth behind his hand as if he were whispering. “Don’t tell Eved I have this.”
I put aside both his cackling and the obvious questions to instead focus on the makeup of this arachnid while I climbed aboard. The flesh was undoubtedly umbral, made of the same akin to the Doppelgangers, yet its carapace retained the same hardness that I was sure its normal kin had. On top of that, the thing positively radiated necrotic energy. Ashen black plumes of the stuff wafted off its body as it skittered about; though it seemed to have no effect on my vassals aside from fear.
'Some type of undead shadow, perhaps?"
Regardless, the spider greatly enhanced our travel speed. We passed by our campsite in less than an hour and showed no signs of stopping. Indeed, without pause or warning, the undead spider darted off the cliffside. Still making my way to the thorax, I saw a braid of fine silk stretching out from the spider’s ass to smack into the ledge some ten meters away. Then vertigo took me. I felt the nostalgic feeling of freefall overtake me as gravity pulled our lateral momentum down to a vertical trajectory. My weak little half-drow hands squeezed harder than they ever squeezed before in anticipation of the cliffside rising to meet us and blow the spider's legs out. And though one came, the other didn't. We all were nearly bucked off the carapace from the landing. Yet the spider's legs kept skittering down the cliff to the frozen waters below.
Unlike some of Deap Ridge's southern coast, all waters on the northern coast were frozen out to a few hundred meters. In the beyond was a surprisingly calm sea; whenever it wasn't storming, at least. But even when it was, the thick ice created a buffer from the gelid, crashing waters in ways that yielded docks, piers, and all the other maritime infrastructure.
It was around the largest of these piers that a large vessel was docked. At a length of around 100 meters, she appeared like a cross between a yacht and a battleship. Gray-black color and stenciled with the insignia of the Cole house on the port and starboard sides. Upon settling on the deck, the undead spider dissipated into an umbral stream that poured into Grandpa Lich’s shadow while the man himself spat out orders to get settled below deck. We hadn’t even made it there by the time a gentle hum rang throughout the ship, marking the beginning of what would turn out to be an uneventful voyage filled with on-deck training until sunrise. At which time, me and my forefathers would run below deck to escape the sun cresting over the Ridge to our backs.
Therein brought about a period of respite for my vassals. And for me, a period of boredom. I could sit below deck and lounge, wander, read, or write whenever I wasn't staring out the window, lost in thought. It took not long to hear the call of the void beckoning to me in the most dangerous language one could speak to me. Curiosity.
I was surprised- shocked to realize I’d gone on a ten-year streak of avoiding sunlight. Even though the blackwood trees stood as tall as castle keeps, the estate itself was positioned on the southwestern end of the Ridge and thus at the edge of the woods. Relatively speaking. From that acknowledgment came curiosity; and from that curiosity came the impulse to all children do. I took off my enchanted necktie. I touched the proverbial hot iron. And while it wasn’t as devastating as my mother presumed, it was certainly close. It felt like my exposed skin was held too close to a blazing fire. If not in one. My flesh burned, then dried, then fried as the seconds ticked on. Yet it was the light shooting searing needles into my retinas coupled with feelings of dehydration and heat exhaustion that forced me into the shade once again.
Below deck, however, it didn’t take long for me to grow bored of watching the water pass. Thus, either out of boredom or curiosity, I decided to tinker with my Eternal Eye by establishing a map function.
Within a fraction of a second, every piece of cartography or topography I’d ever laid my eyes on was compiled and laid out in a scaled-down augmented rendering splayed across the floor. Deap Ridge, the island of royals, sat off the southwestern coast of the mainland. Giving it the appearance of a banana with the curve pointing downward when oriented north. The mainland itself was a roughly circular landmass lined with coves, bays, and peninsulas on every bit of coast one could see. The largest of such peninsulas was a flat, lake-pocked region on the northwestern end, giving it the appearance of a turtle head when seen in tandem with the second largest peninsula to the southeast, pointing away from the coast to form the tail.
Based on what I’ve read, the entirety of the mainland was split along the middle between the two empires, Deapou on the east; her shadow, Odissi, on the west. Straddling the borders on the southern coast were the twin capitals, Thamestown and Odissi. A large speck of land and light on the horizon. A center of culture and commerce for two prominent empires. A vast city-state that looked like nothing more than a massive sprinkled cupcake embedded into the very ground.
By nightfall of the third day, the as-of-yet faceless Captain announced our imminent arrival, prompting everyone to gather on various parts of the deck soon after. My father, alone at the bow with a drink and cigar in each hand. My vassals were in the flybridge, admiring the sights they were either seeing for the first time or hadn’t seen in years. Grandpa Lich, on the other hand, was in the aft deck, lounging in a peaceful state of solitude I had every intention of ruining.
“Are you going to teach me necromancy?” I asked after planting myself in the seat just across from him.
“Ah. There it is.” He pointed at me without removing his gaze from the nearly empty sky. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask.”
“I can ask about more if you want.” I chuckled. “About the academy. The Guild Association. New Dawn.”
“They were once known as the Marulean Military.” He began, and without removing his gaze from above. “A sovereign entity that has existed long before the empires of Odissi, Deapou, and Epethia were even dreams. Today, they are known as the Guild Association. They are the last remnants of the Phaegrathean and Ulaian kingdoms. They take no part in political intrigue, for they are solely responsible for three things: Maintaining security in Ulai. The distribution of requests to guilds. And overseeing the assessment for the academy. Though they themselves hold no real influence at the academy.”
“How?”
“Like the Guild Association, the Academy is a sovereign entity. Only the academy has sway over the goings on at the academy.” He explained. “What the Association does have, is governance over the transit method to the academy. They allow only the strongest Maruleans to transfer in the hopes that some of them will later return to aid the cause in Ulai. But few ever do.”
“Because they choose to say in Nonus,” I concluded.
“Mhm.” Grandfather grunted. “I’ve never explored much of it, so I can’t say much, other than the Guild Association has a presence there too. I can only say that the academy is highly secretive. That, and they have courses for both combative and non-combative classes.”
“Such as?”
“The Artificer school, for instance.” He grinned slyly. “The place students to become licensed enchanters. Which, as you know, our entire society depends on. But so too is it something every society in both Maru and Nonus depends on.”
‘It seems the staff isn’t incompetent then, that’s good.’ I nodded to myself. ‘I have to get into that class.’
“So, what else can you tell me?” I then asked.
“That you will go through three years at the academy.” He huffed in a type of annoyance I suspected to be faux. “By the start of your second year, you’ll gain your classes; whatever they may be in addition to your Sorcery. That year is dedicated to moving through your paths as quickly as possible. Wherein the third year is where you shadow a prominent guild to learn how such an organization operates.
“A fourth year is available to the top students of your class, however,” he added a few moments later. “It is only half a year in length, but it is the most important for one with ambitions such as yours. Those top students are taken to the Guild Association; either in Maru or Nonus, to receive a few benefits and items that will greatly facilitate the creation of a new guild! The Guildmaster Candidacy Course.”
‘Now that is interesting!’ I internally grinned. ‘It seems I just got another goal to aim for.’
“Lastly, is the New Dawn.” Grandfather sighed, ripping my ambitious thoughts from under me to bring my eyes back to his intensely cold gaze. “That is their ancient name. Their current name is the Empire of Polaris. Our antithesis. They are a family of light sorcerers, far greater in number than we. While they now occupy the largest territory within Nonus and are far away from Maru, they were and forever will be our direct opposition. Their history is extensively tied with ours, Amun. Some have existed as friends. More, as enemies. In either case, always remain wary of them. Yet never let them step on you.”