“Ah… we didn’t know where to find you, you see,” the paper bird said, hemming and hawing like speech was something new to it. “So we’ve been trying oh so hard to get your attention.”
“Who is it you think you’ve found?” Benjamin asked, unwilling to give away anything.
“Clear eyes. Four friends. Three men, one woman, and not of the Rhulvinar. No trappings of the arcane.” This time, it was different birds that spoke. Each one sounded the same, but each answer was called from a different mouth. He was dealing with some sort of swarm intelligence. “You are the rebels. Specifically. The rebel leaders and you are the one called Ben-jamin.”
“So you summoned a whole mountain to get this Benjamin’s attention?” Benjamin asked. “Seems like an awfully big waste. Why would he even be here?”
“We summoned nothing. That was our masters, the kind and beneficent sorcerers of the Rhulvinar.” At this, all of the flock spent a few seconds calling out random compliments, but the fact that they sounded terrified as they did so ruined the effect. We are but humble servants that stayed behind to wait and deliver a message when I found the one called Ben-jamin. The rest of my flock was distributed likewise at all the other summoning sites. We all wait for the Ben-jamin, tell him the news, then, and only then, can we fly home. Those are the orders.”
Benjamin looked at the paper bird on the altar again as he began to realize that whatever it was he was talking to was a lot closer to Kitsune Miku than the strange demons that had been summoned to battle them since then. Whoever had summoned the mountain had left behind a literal stool pigeon to see who it was that came to investigate.
Did that mean that they know where we are now, he wondered. For that matter,
“So your Master’s summoned literal mountains just to flush someone out?” Benjamin asked skeptically. “Seems like kind of a waste of effort to me. Why not just send him a message?”
“The war is going well for the Rhulvinar, but it would be going better if the Thrones were distracted,” one of the birds chirped. “It would be going better if the Thrones were distracted, though, and nothing is more distracting to them than goblin infestations.”
“As for a message…” One of the birds darted into the air straight toward him, and Benjamin flinched, worried about how it was about to attack him. He raised his hand in self-defense, but midway through the air, the bird unfolded into a piece of paper and refolded into a letter.
“Ummm… what’s this?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t been about a second away from torching every last one of the fragile things with a fire spell.
“It’s an invitation,” a bird squawked. If they realized they’d been in danger, they didn’t show it. Instead, they continued to hop and flutter amidst the grisly scene like any other group of pigeons or crows. “You’re invited. You all are. The Ben-jamin is especially, though. Our masters want to speak with him more than anything.”
“Speak to him, huh?” Benjamin asked skeptically as he looked at the small folded card in his hand. The paper had changed completely, and instead of being the dark butcher paper the rest of the birds were made out of, it had become fine ivory cardstock like you might find on a wedding invitation. On the front was a gilded message that read, ‘You’re Invited,’ and he spent a moment wondering how the spells that allowed the material to animate and move worked without making the fragile thing burst into flames.
He wanted to study that more than he wanted to read it, and it was only after he tried and failed to access whatever magics it might be enchanted with that he started to open it. Raja quickly put a stop to it by putting his hand on his friend’s.
“Dude, wait,” he said, “What if this thing can tap into you somehow like those virus things, but in a picture?”
“Like a QR code?” Benjamin asked, confused as he thought about it. “That doesn’t seem likely…”
It wasn’t impossible, though, he realized quickly, with a bit of effort. Even if the Rhulvinairans didn’t do such a thing. It was a disturbing realization, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to proceed as he chewed on it.
Finally, he said, “Sorry about this, guys,” to the birds, and before anyone could react, he tore the thing in half.
The birds immediately fluttered around. Half of them took off, circling briefly before landing again, and all of them screeched accusingly at him.
“Benji, what the fuck!” Emma called out. “It’s a fucking bird, stop torturing them and read the damn note!”
A twinge of guilt passed through him, but he didn’t let that stop him. He remembered too clearly what had happened on the rare occasions he’d underestimated their enemy. Their cruelty was boundless, which meant that Benjamin’s ruthlessness could know no bounds either.
He handed half of the note to Raja, and they both opened them together. Inside, there were no obvious charms or perils. There were just a few short lines that were each cut in half, and together, the two of them took turns reading them out loud to their friends.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Dear Mister Newsome,” the letter started. “You are hereby invited to attend a gathering before the final phase of this war and your inevitable defeat. Many familiar faces will be in attendance, and if you are reasonable, we may yet have a chance at peace. This is a formal affair. Please dress accordingly. Sincerely, Lord Jarris.”
“What. The. Fuck.” Emma said as the two of them finished reading. “That can’t be right! Give me those!”
She grabbed the two pieces of paper, and as she brought them back together, they knitted into one piece again like they’d never been separated. Her eyes widened, and as soon as she finished, the invitation refolded itself into a bird and nuzzled into the crook of her arm.
They were all stunned for a moment before Matt finally asked, “That motherfucker is still alive?”
It was the question that was on everyone’s mind, and no one had an answer for it. To Benjamin, it felt like a slap across the face. It was certainly possible, of course. They’d never found the body, and if souls could be backed up, then it was entirely possible that the soul of the man who had brought them here had been transplanted into the body of some other poor bastard.
Finally, he decided to ask the birds. “Well, did Lord Jarris send you? Is this all his doing?”
“Lord Jarris did not summon us!” the birds squawked in an annoying chorus as they each sought to speak over each other. “He has before, though! He has, he has!”
The birds spent the next minute answering, but the best Benjamin could get out of this was that if his name was on the card, then he was probably alive. None of his friends took the news well, except for Matt. He just grinned, which was especially disturbing, given that he was still covered in his own slowly drying blood.
“This is great news,” he boomed. “I never thought I’d get my chance at a proper vengeance, and now I’ll have it.”
Benjamin got where he was coming from, but he’d already seen the man die with one bloody shotgun blast to the chest and didn’t fancy doing that again. He still had nightmares about those Azmodeon flies sometimes.
They discussed what they should do for a bit. They all agreed that it was certainly a trap. The question was whether or not it was a trap worth springing.
“The problem is that everything is a trap,” Benjamin said finally, in exasperation. “Our enemy can teleport whole armies around and drop mountains on people they don't like. Anytime they know where we are, we’re dead, and any time they suspect where we are, we’re probably still dead. They just need to use a bigger hammer.”
“So since we’re already dead, we should just, what? Give up?” Emma sighed. “Count me right out. I’d rather die fighting than—”
“No one is talking about giving up. I have some thoughts on all that, but…” he nodded at the birds that were just standing there watching. “Maybe it’s best if we save those for later.”
“So, will you attend?” the paper birds asked, now that they’d been addressed once more. “There’s plenty of time. You’ve still got weeks before—”
“Where is this thing happening anyway?” Benjamin asked. “Your little invitation didn’t say.”
This time, none of them flew to him. He couldn’t say he blamed them after the way he treated the last one. Instead, they congregated on the ground and, together, unfolded as one, revealing a large map of the whole region that was missing only a single spot, which was probably the bird that Emma was holding.
The map was interesting, and Benjamin noted that it showed the lost Rhulvinarian territory only as blank spots. There was only a blank spot where Arden should have been, and the large swaths of plantations were missing, showing the effectiveness of the other armies roaming the region.
Or all of that could be a lie to lull us into a false sense of security, he reminded himself. There was no reason in the world why they should trust anything from a Rhulvinarian source.
Still, it was an interesting data point, and he had no trouble locating the proposed meeting spot. Benjamin had half expected to be right next to one of the large cities on the coast, at the heart of their influence, but instead, it was a good distance away from anywhere.
Was that to make him feel more at ease, Benjamin wondered, Or was that so they could use bigger weapons without worrying about damaging anywhere important?
He didn’t know the answer, but looking at the way it was laid out, he couldn't help but draw the invisible lines from where they were to where they’d planned on going. The goal before had been to build a few interesting weapons and then meet back up with their army in a more advantageous location to wage war on the coastal strongholds that were the linchpin between the Rhulvinarian’s dispersed farming operations and the heart of their empire.
However, looking at how it all fell together, he could see how a detour might help with that. He’d have to talk it over with Matt, of course, but…
“You know, I think we will go after all,” Benjamin muttered to himself.
Those simple words were enough to make the map dissolve back into two dozen individual birds. Even the one that Emma had been holding flew back to join its flock as they parched on the corpses of the summoning ritual. “Excellent!” they chirped. “Wonderful news! We’ll tell them. We’ll let everyone know that Benjamin is coming. We will! We will!”
No, you won’t, he thought as they gathered and took to the sky. Before they’d gotten more than ten feet, he cast fire spray, and they all went up like matches. A few of them had time to squawk in pain, but the rest simply ceased to exist.
As the last few faded out, he turned to face his friends. Emma looked at him with hard eyes but said nothing. She knew the score. No one could know where they were or where they were going next.
“Alright, Matt, before we deal with any of this, I’m going to need to get answers from another source, and to do that, I’m going to need some things,” Benjamin said finally. “For starters, I’m going to need some goblins. Alive.”