"Lord Stormraven," Boss put the silverware aside, wiping his mouth, "I'll be blunt. I dare say my sudden appearance has been troubling you for the past moons."
"Therefore, if you have any questions, please ask. I'll try my best to answer all of them."
Boss turned to his two ladies, only for Noira to pouted.
"Damn, yoo're nae fin at aw," she playfully hit him. Noira then immediately raised her fingers.
"Fine," he exclaimed, "Except the weekends. Deal?."
"Deal!" Noira stood up and slapped his back loudly before dragging Legien away from the room.
"Dude, I'm genuinely worried about your pelvis," said the crow.
"I can handle tits," Boss then took a sip.
"Oh, really?" The crow retorted.
"Anyways, your question, if you will."
Alaric had many questions but decided to start with the basics.
"Lord Blackblood, regarding the titles mentioned in your letter," Alaric began as progress was made on the meal, "I would like to know what the title means and how it came to you."
Boss nodded, understanding the underlying question, 'Who are you?'
"The first family head, a Stellarborne, founded the Blackblood family. The Stellarbornes are an advanced race of space-dwelling explorers with immense powers beyond others' comprehension. To primitive races, we... are gods in their eyes."
"But don't worry," Boss reassured the guests, noting their expressions, "Stellarbornes are mostly peaceful unless provoked. Besides, there's only one left—me. Hence the 'last' title."
"As for VoidTech, it's a vast corporation of mine. Think of it as a merchant guild offering various services: medical, scientific, entertainment, food manufacturing, weapon manufacturing, construction, and most importantly, private military contracting. Mercenaries, in your way of words."
After hearing this, Alaric was a bit frightened. Mercenaries, he said, yet the Alaric never met a company of sellswords with that kind of discipline.
"CEO stands for 'Chief Executive Officer,' the highest-ranking executive in a company. It's akin to being the king of a small country."
"Technically, we once were an Emperor," Mnemon chimed in.
"Dude, not helping," Boss frowned before clearing his throat. "Yes, that was true, but it's all in the past, and I prefer it stays that way. Former CEO now. Don't be like Viper, calling me 'Your Majesty'. Just don't."
"Finally, the title "Chief Enforcer" refers to a high-ranking individual within an organization or group whose primary responsibility is to ensure that rules, policies, and directives are followed."
"And that's the gist of it. Any other questions? Knight Bjorn? Maester Fraud?"
All guests sat in silence. With what Boss had just told them, it was something that could only come out of the wildest dreams. Then again, the mystery behind the Misty Woods, the phantom soldiers, wealth, and technologies is genuinely unheard of... It all made sense now.
"Lord Blackblood, may I ask your reason for helping our people?" Bjorn bluntly asked.
"Truthfully, I had my people watch over your castle and villages. From afar, obviously." Boss tinted his cup toward Frosthaven, "We first thought to keep to ourselves. Yet, three moons ago, an elderly man collapsed near the river banks, not far from the entrance."
Alaric closed his eyes and grimaced. Greybeards often went hunting in lean times and rarely returned, leaving fewer mouths for their families to feed.
"I used a less intimidating form to approach him. We helped him recover despite his protest. We even gave a small meat wagon for his family and the villagers."
"As for the daily provision afterward, well, it was a punishment for Noira."
Everyone beside the duo was perplexed. Charity... as a punishment?
"Let's just say I managed to outwit her. I anticipated anger, but not to the extent of being comatose for three days. We both ended up unconscious since we are one."
"Three days later, we woke up to that," Boss said, gesturing toward the wall.
Two aesthetically framed papers hung vertically on the wall. Alaric squinted, attempting to read them.
"Marriage... certificate?"
"Yes. To put it simply, Noira coerced me into marriage. I’m not complaining since this was due to happened anyways. Though I'm somewhat disheartened that the witnesses were my two best employees from VoidTech," he sobbed, gazing at the certificates.
"We had it coming. It was the only opportunity for Pandora and Junior to retaliate for all the shits we caused them," Mnemon scoffed. "Honestly, I'd be more surprised if they didn't seize it."
"Anyway, the relationship of me and my wives," he turned back to Alaric, "are complicated. It's best if we move on. What about you, Maester Fraud? You've been unusually quiet."
"Aye, but I fear my curiosity may overstep its bounds," the maester hesitated.
"Do not worry. I will stop you if it does," Boss reassured him.
Fraud closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Do you perhaps… belong to the lost civilization before us?”
Boss said nothing, simply leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands. He and Mnemon tilted their heads simultaneously, instantly making their guests uncomfortable.
"Well, well," the crow chuckled loudly. "Look at what we have here."
"Maester Fraud, may I ask what led you to that conjecture?"
Alaric felt pity for the older man as all attention shifted to the poor old scholar.
"I, uh," Fraud stammered, trying to regain his composure. "During my time at the College, I came across a book called 'The Giant's Fingerprint.' It explores the theory that an ancient, advanced civilization existed before our recorded history and that remnants of this lost civilization can be found in ancient structures, artifacts, and myths worldwide."
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"Let me guess," Boss interjected, raising a finger. "The book was not well received, was it?"
"Indeed," Fraud nodded. "It faced massive criticism from scholars and academics, who argued that the book was based on speculation and misinterpreting evidence. The backlash was so severe that the author was labeled 'Hancock the Mad.'"
"Another question, if you will. Is this Hancock still alive, and has he written about astronomy?"
Fraud was truly surprised by Boss's questions as if he had glimpsed Hancock's fate.
"I can't say if he's still alive. As for the latter, he did present a theory regarding astronomy. However, it was considered so heretical that he was no longer allowed to hold, teach, or defend it in any way, either orally or in writing. The Holy Church condemned him for heresy and permanently banned his works."
"So this Hancock is the Galileo of this world, huh..." Boss mumbled audibly.
"Is there anything else you wish to know, Lord Blackblood?" Fraud inquired.
"That would be all. I appreciate you indulging my curiosity, Maester Fraud. Now, regarding your earlier question..."
"If we ever met this Hancock fellow, I would give him a pat for his work. Truly a visionary ahead of his time," Boss raised his cup before turning to his friend. "Mnemon, could you fetch the maps for our guests to see?"
"Before or after the Terraforming?"
"Both," he nodded.
"Alright. Just wait... ten minutes, I'll be right back," and the crow disappeared instantly.
Silence stretched as Alaric considered the impact and implications of this day. If Boss's words prove true, what future holds for House Stormraven and the North?
"Do you have any children, Lord Stormraven?" Boss's unexpected question jolted Alaric from his thoughts.
"I am blessed with five children," Alaric replied, finding solace in the question. "John is my eldest and heir. Matthew is fostering in the Middle States. Benjamin is the youngest, and Lily and Lilia are the twins."
Boss whistled in admiration despite having no lips. Alaric smiled softly with pride, but his following words were harder to utter.
"My wife, Astrid, was paralyzed from the waist down after Benjamin was born. She's been bedridden ever since."
Boss's expression softened, despite his ever-smile.
"I have caused you pain," he dipped his head. "I am sorry."
"No worries. My wife is still alive, and all his siblings love Benjamin. All is good, Lord Blackblood."
"Do you mind if I send one of my doctors to see your wife?" Boss offered.
"Doctor?" Alaric raised an eyebrow.
"Uh," Boss snapped his fingers a few times, trying to find the right word. "Physician. Yes, a physician. A person qualified to practice medicine. Doctor. Physician."
"You can cure crippled?" Fraud asked.
"Well, as long as your wife not dead, we can fix that. Anything, really," Boss shrugged.
Before anyone could say another word, Boss pointed at Alaric.
"But then again, you wouldn't let an unknown individual decide your wife's fate, right? Even if your wife is cured, I doubt the lesser would say anything nice. As a husband and father, you wouldn't want your family branded as heretical or demon worshippers just because you accepted my sincerity. Suffering the same fate as Hancock?"
A heavy silence followed.
"The road to hell is paved with kindness," Boss exclaimed. "Therefore, I won't force you, and the offer still stands even if things go south today. That, I promise."
Just then, Mnemon appeared on his shoulder and slapped the back of Boss's head with one of their wings.
"Can you mofo stop your sadistic streak for just one day?" they shouted, pointing at the guest. "Look at them; they look like they've had dozens of heart attacks."
"It's just a harmless joke," Boss tried to reason, only to receive another slap. "Ow."
"Harmless, my damn birdy ass," Mnemon turned to the guest. "Sorry, this moron here is a professional sadist, and he won't admit it."
"I'm not a sadist," Boss corrected.
"Still can't understand how two sadists got married and lived together," the crow scoffed. "Anyways, here are the maps."
Two map scrolls and a pile of books suddenly appeared before Fraud.
"I've also included a few books as proof, old man Fraud. It's nothing too complicated—just a few books related to mathematics, chemistry, and farming."
"Hate to say it," they continued, "but if you find them problematic after reading, just burn them. Those books are just copies anyway."
While the rest of the group considered the host's courtesy with dread, Alaric decided it was best not to wander anymore.
"Lord Blackblood, may I ask the reason for your... resurgence?"
"Ah, it's quite simple," he said, regaining his composure. "I want to establish a foothold for my people. A country for my people."
"Didn't you mention you were the last of your kind?"
"Yes, but I was referring to my soldiers, those who escorted you back then, and others as well."
The last of a forgotten and powerful race wanting to create a place for his soldiers, yet not focusing on reviving his race? Alaric, and likely the rest, found that idea... absurd. Boss then stood up and walked toward the window, looking at the scenery outside.
"I know what you're thinking, Lord Stormraven. Strange, right? As arrogant as it may sound, if others witnessed the power of a Stellarborne firsthand, I bet everyone would wish we were extinct or had never existed."
"I was mortal, like all of you, before becoming a Stellarborne," he said, meeting their eyes. "I know those feelings well."
"As for my soldiers,” turning to meet their eyes, he continued, “they are my creations. Born mortal, yet molded into weapons of mass destruction—mere tools, always at my disposal. Our past is over, and so is their duty. Yet, they cling to it, like a desperate man clinging to the last glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel. I made them this way, so it's my responsibility to undo the damage. I want to give them a home so their wounds can heal, and perhaps, one day, they might regain the common sense and morality of living beings. Think of my resurgence as a father returning to care for his children. Nothing more."
Alaric scratched his chin, contemplating, before looking up to face Boss.
"But that's not the true reason for today's meeting, is it?"
"You're a sharp one, Lord Stormraven," Boss's smile broadened.
Truthfully, Alaric did not like that expression at all.
"I want to offer you the chance to become my vassal."
Alaric and his companions exchanged bewildered glances, the shock of Boss's proposal palpable in the room. The air grew tense as Alaric struggled to process the offer.
"Become your vassal?" Alaric repeated, disbelief coloring his tone. "You can't be serious."
"I am," Boss replied calmly, his smile unwavering.
"Why us?" Alaric asked. "And why must there be vassalization yet not an alliance?"
"First," he raised a finger, "I've come to respect the people of the North. The harshness of the North here carves people down to their trueselves and it shines brightly in your people. A bunch of hardworking, down-to-earth individuals with a lord who has a sense of duty? That's rare. And trust me, I've lived a very long time."
"Second, it's more about 'you' problem than me. With respect, Lord Stormraven, but I doubt your people will survive a few more winters and your independence."
"I beg your pardon?" The latter did not offer Alaric little comfort.
"During three moons, I did some digging. While trying to understand your culture, we discovered spies from the Empire among your people. They were trying to sway your people to their side."
Boss clapped his hands, and the door behind them opened. Viper entered, dragging several smaller individuals with cloth bags over their heads. Based on their ragged appearance and clothing, they seemed to be from the slums of Frosthaven.
"Not swaying, mate," Mnemon corrected. "More like inciting rebellion."
When Viper removed the bags, Alaric felt a wave of unease. The eyes of the captives were broken, retreating inward, lost in their labyrinths. They were the eyes of the broken. Eyes that no longer seek connection but seem to retreat inward lost in a maze of their own making. A dull, glassy sheen that mirrors an internal void. The whites of the eyes are now tinged with persistent redness, while the iris appears muted, as if drained of its essence. Surrounding this desolate eye are dark circles, deep and shadowed.
"Uh," Boss waved awkwardly, "I forgot to tell my subordinates to go easy on them. So... yeah." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Viper, please, the papers."
The captain retrieved a bundle of papers from her coat, placing them in front of Alaric before retreating towards the door. The lord of Frosthaven examined the documents with his trusted advisors.
"These documents outline the Empire's plan. Well, not the Empire per se, but certain nobles within it," Boss explained. "Their spies were assigned to incite rebellion among your people, exploiting their discontent and desperation to undermine your leadership and facilitate a takeover."
Alaric's eyes widened as he read through the documents. It was indeed as extensive as Boss had said.
"And why did you intercept this plot?" Alaric asked.
"Please turn to the last pages, Lord Stormraven," Boss instructed.
Alaric complied. The final pages detailed the movements of his two wives, accompanied by several urgent letters.
"Those explained well enough. However, the twist is that Noira knew she was being watched yet chose to ignore it. Do you have any idea why?" Alaric shook his head.
"The third reason, and why I proposed vassalization instead of an alliance, is my wife."
"Your... wife?" Alaric was baffled.
"Words cannot describe how erratic she is. And yes, like me, she's powerful. Very," he then sighed. "Anyway, my reasons might not make sense to you now, but you will understand my actions in time. Experience is the child of thought."
----------------------------------------
Alaric mounted his horse. His party was laden with numerous books, small gifts, and fruit pies baked by Boss for the men, which he called 'apple strudel.' As for the spies, he thought it best not to interfere and left it to Boss and his people. The lord and his lady wives bid them farewell at the woods' entrance.
"Feel free to visit at your leisure, Lord Stormraven."
Alaric accepted the courtesy. There was more to discuss, but that would be another day. He had come with questions and received answers, though these answers would complicate matters in the days ahead. He would need wise counsel before proceeding further.
"You have shown great hospitality to me and my men and done my people a significant kindness. Know that the gratitude of House Stormraven is sincere."
The Lord of Frosthaven turned his horse to face the Lord of Misty Woods.
"Please, expect my messenger by week's end with a formal invitation to Frosthaven, Lord Blackblood."
Boss scratched his chin, considering the choice. "Excuse my intrusion, but do you have a library?"
"The largest within a thousand leagues," Alaric replied, nodding towards the old maester beside him, "thanks to old Fraud here."
Boss remained silent, yet Alaric noticed the crow nestled between his horns, smiling with eyes gleaming like stars.
"We await your invitation, Lord Stormraven."
After the guests were out of sight, Noira puffed her cheek and turned to Boss, relentlessly kicking him in the leg.
"Ow," though the giant didn't budge an inch.
"Dae ye hae tae ruin a girl's fin jist loch 'at?"
"Oh please, spare them a bit of your pity. They're the blood of one of my late subordinates. They were a crucial part of you so-called entertainment back then. This’s the least you could do to honor them."
"Hmph!" she finally stopped her tantrum.
"Anyway, who wants some Spaghettieis?"