“Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed King;”
― William Shakespeare, Richard II
Lieseleta walked slowly towards the corpse of her father, her mother was lying on a bench nearby while an army medic was tending to her. The snow had fallen continuously and there was a dusting of white on his hair and back. What a mere hour ago had been a vibrant living person was now a cold object. The eyes had been frozen over and looked milky and indistinct.
“I recommend we disperse the people. The undead have been accounted for and there are a lot of wounded and casualties. Make a list. It will come in handy to have something like this to hold over their heads. They have proven themselves to be unreliable so we need every leverage we can get.” Heloise dispassionately recommended. The intensifying wind let the banners snap and her cloak was pressed tightly to her body.
“Do it.” The princess sounded lifeless.
“Do you need a drink? You cannot break down now. They will never let you live it down. If you can’t I will get an illusionist to cover you.”
“Mh.” Lieseleta felt cold all over and her feet were like distant foreign objects.
“I don’t think that is going to work.” Heloise sighed. Frowning she focused and spoke a short spell infusing another dose of light into her niece. “We should go. Jera and perhaps Kettra -she distinguished herself today -can take care of the clean-up.”
The princess gritted her teeth and brushed back her long golden locks matted with melting snow and raised her voice, “I will now retire. Before you go- talk to either knight Kettra or Jera my personal attendant. They will take notice and it will be very important for the oncoming deliberations, maybe even a trial. So it is in your best interest to cooperate. Those found to have fled will be treated most harshly.” She turned and gave a slight bow towards her allies who were, for the most part, still catching their breath or caring for the wounded, “I thank you for your support from the bottom of my heart. As an old philosopher once said ‘You will find your friends in hardship and not in the times of gold’. Everyone can follow along when the way is full of ease, but not many would accompany another when it meant personal sacrifice. I will not forget you! Please talk to my attendants before you go.”
She stumbled a bit after she finished a ragged cheer rose from her tired supporters, and even some of the former enemies- for whatever reason- chose to join in.
“Well done. Let’s go.” Heloise grabbed her upper arm and pulled her along.
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Alyssa, Alea, and Mireille were escorted back to Wisteria dorms by several royal guards who looked at them respectfully. Especially Alea received her share of astonished and admiring looks.
The blindfolded girl took Cecily into her hands and tried to focus only on the ground ahead. Alyssa hooked her arm and whispered, “If you are uncomfortable I could say something?”
“No, it’s alright. The dorm is not far.”
Mireille still had a lot of energy and skipped along beside them sometimes she drew arcs of lightning between her hands.
Alyssa looked at that with a bit of amusement, “Won’t you ever get tired of that?”
“Probably not for some years yet. Why?”
“There might come a time when others do not share your enthusiasm.”
“Spoilsport.”
Despite the lighthearted attempts at banter all of them still saw the faces of the dead and when there was a loud noise nearby they flinched. When they reached their room Mireille directly jumped into Alyssa’s bed and hid under the blanket.
“Please don’t…” Her friend had completely forgotten that she was still splattered with all manner of unidentifiable substances. “Let us simply use your bed for a change.”
Mireille raised her head and looked at her without comprehension seemingly half-asleep.
“Never mind.”
Butler One had remained behind as it had been a bit unconventional for a student to have three attendants, one of them a construct. Later on, she really regretted not having the combative automaton on hand. Much would have been easier. Alea directed it to ready their room and the bath.
And then they went to sleep.
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Outside the city a short while later
Iseret looked at Vanessa sitting on the broken stone chair in the basement of ‘her’ mansion just beyond the city limits. The vampire girl was massaging her recently regenerated arm and seemed a bit uncomfortable. As she looked up and saw the slit-yellow eyes inspecting her, she nodded wearily and said, “Thank you for helping me get here.”
“I could return that if you had not stood before Lieseleta and held off the enemy vampire we would not have gotten the baronetcy. And personally speaking- Further cementing your position in Kadira’s good graces helps us both.”
“That is fine. I must invest in more protection from light energy. It did not seem to be so urgent before but after tonight I cannot ignore the problem any longer. Next time it might not only be an arm.”
“None but you can be so blasé about that.” Iseret leaned back and took up her khopesh inspecting the edge critically. Somewhere behind them water dripped slowly along the damp stone wall. A small magical brazier heated the vaulted cellar. The debris had mostly been removed and the floor was clean at least. “At least it's no longer freezing in here.”
“It’s a bit decadent to heat with crystal dust but what can you do. I have tapped the ley line but each and every link has to be worked into the whole. I couldn't be bothered for something like that.” Vanessa sighed.
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“It would nevertheless be highly appreciated.” A drop of freezing moisture dripped onto Iseret’s cloak as she said that emphasizing her point. Shaking the water from her hood she adjusted her seat and continued, “What do you think of Lieseleta?”
“Too young. I cannot understand how you humans are so mature at such a young age but she is too young to be a proper queen by any reckoning. I think her aunt might accept a regency until she has at least finished the academy.”
“I seem to remember that males have precedence in this culture?”
“Mh. You are asking the wrong person here. But I think it mostly has to do with connections and personal power. I cannot even remember if the king had any brothers.” Vanessa clenched and unclenched her left hand and absentmindedly said, “Everything seems to be fine. What are your plans for the foreseeable future?”
“I think that we should have a look where that blood mage went and if any of his creations are left. I would very much hope for your assistance in this matter.”
“That is something I would do as a matter of course. Do you want to foist some achievements on my narrow shoulders?”
“I think it can only be a good thing if you are firmly allied with us.” Iseret blinked her eyes.
“I have to keep an eye on the girls too but with the most serious detractors dead or disgraced it should be a lot easier. The actions of HER in the west are worrying me. I hope the people here are finally taking her more seriously.”
“We will have to see. But there was news that Windkeep, the border fortress of Rivenlorn was sorely besieged, maybe it has already fallen?”
“That would be very bad. A necromancer, even a lich, needs raw materials- bodies- to work with. Spirits are all well and good but they are difficult to muster in large numbers and cost a lot of energy to control.”
“There I have to take your word for it.”
“So her having access to a lot of the dead will make the situation much worse. And then there are the Nordmarks. I can see them swindling their way into any amnesty that the royals might plan to offer...”
Iseret continued “…and then they could again foment discord, finance assassinations or even work together with the Heartstealer.”
“Exactly.” Vanessa looked at the wooden chest she had been sleeping in for the last few days. “It’s late already. Will you be going back?”
“Might as well. Wish you pleasant dreams.”
“I don’t.” Vanessa looked disgruntled as she watched her friend leave by way of the stairs behind an arched doorway- sans door.
Iseret walked through the dark corridors lit only by the weak light filtering through cracks and half-closed doors. Her eyes were still spelled and everything seemed to her as bright as day. A cold presence loomed from behind a doorway and the darkness filling that empty chamber was impenetrable even to her sight. She quickened her steps a bit and felt the seal put on her shoulder emit a faint cold reacting to the presence of the shadow demon.
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Morning in the market ward
“Hear ye, hear ye!” The herald shouted from atop the platform in the market plaza, his shouts merging with those of his fellows that did the same at nearly every corner. “Our valiant monarch, king Vilander Andrealphus Constantin von Margrinar protector of humanity, successor of fallen Allisair, holder of the one blade, count of Kronenburg is dead. He fell in mighty battle against the treacherous attack by the undead of Ulsolm defending his citizens to the last.”
Gasps and exclamations followed his words and low whispers and chatter filled the morning air.
“And that is not all, his son Carl Askander Josephus von Margrinar fell in the same battle. May Charys have mercy on their souls and Gesserach uphold justice for their deeds.”
The commotion grew until he could no longer speak. Grey mustache quivering the man in uniform bedecked with golden ornamental cords in the colors of green and gold nodded towards the guard accompanying him.
“Silence!” The burly sergeant that stood to the side gave a mighty shout and the whispers subsided.
The herald nodded in satisfaction and continued, “Tomorrow will be a day of mourning for the fallen and when the date for the funeral is set there will be a national holiday to properly say goodbye to our beloved ruler. Heloise Yvaine of Margrinar has acceded to the request made by the royal council to hold the throne in trust for her niece, Lieseleta Ophelia von Margrinar who will be crowned queen of Margrinar when coming of age.”
The sunlight glinted on the statues lining the plaza and some doves broke into flight as new people crowded around the speaker's platform and the herald began to shout his proclamation anew.
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Norngrad Fortress, Kronenburg
“Lieseleta?” Heloise rubbed her forehead and squinted her eyes painfully. She was a smallish woman with completely golden eyes, like drops of molten metal given form and life. Her hair was a slightly darker color and fell around her delicate features. The morning had seen her conducting several interrogations of captured nobles and knights. Only those deemed most important or diplomatically sensitive had been left to her but that had been trying nonetheless. Her niece had accompanied her for most of them but the facade she had cultivated before was crumbling.
“Yes?” Lieseleta rubbed her red eyes.
The room they were sitting in had a large desk behind which stood two high-backed, lavishly upholstered, wooden chairs facing the door made of ironbound oak. The small windows set high in the wall were closed and metal bars gleamed through the wavy glass. The banner of Margrinar hung from the walls to the side and at the far end of the room. Otherwise, there were only the sheaves of parchment an inkpot, and a magical quill hovering beside it.
“I think you should get some more rest. I have asked the maid to prepare a chamber nearby.”
“I think I should be here and take an active part.”
“I don’t think you can.” Heloise retorted bluntly. “As much as I applaud your sense of duty you are still young and no one expects you to shoulder everything from the start.”
“If I don’t do it now they will dismiss me and any opinions I might have.”
“Some won’t. But most will do so even if you were the perfect reincarnation of the first queen so you could as well be prudent and rest while you still can. The next days will be hectic.”
“Thank you.” Lieseleta’s voice was soft.
Heloise regarded her niece with a hint of fondness, “I never did well with children and you were no exception.” She sighed, “but you are my family. I will do as I must and help you secure your rule. But you better be ready in four years. When your twentieth birthday has passed, you will relieve me of this burden.” She tapped the small regent's diadem she wore.
The princess nodded and made to hug the older woman but a fierce glare from her made her dismiss this notion. “Thank you again. I will then take my leave.” She stood and rang a bell via a cord hanging on the wall. “Wake me if there is anything I can do.” The last was said a bit self-deprecatingly.
“Don’t worry, I will.” Heloise made a dismissive gesture adding ironically, “my liege.”
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A few days' travels to the northwest, there stood a large fortress-like building. Seemingly grown from the rocky outcropping beneath, the sheer, windowless walls rose four stories high with squat towers rising above the corners. Damp, freezing mist hung over the moors surrounding the jutting stone spar on which the structure was looming like a weight on a giant scale.
A man in an ornate red-silver robe stood before the massive double doors. Runes were set in the mithril bands reinforcing the stout oaken planks. Several large glyphs proclaimed it as the Academy of Arcane Learning of Tiefenforst. He had heard good things about Irene Wellinghorst the new dean of this academy. She should be more interested in getting ahead and closing the distance to the Academy of the Arts in Kronenburg than such small things as his dispute with Illimen. It should not be worth mentioning.
Gerferak Lordrum the former master of the tower of time shrugged philosophically. You win some and you lose some.