War was hell, the violence, the hate, the blood which covered him and filled the valley he was in, it was all too much, it felt unreal, disconnected from everything else, happy days suddenly turned into slaughters the moment he got word from his birds.

But Harlan took that burden onto himself, for that was his duty, there was nobody else who could do this, and there was nobody who he could honestly share his burdens with.

In the slick red mud Harlan began to hallucinate about Adina, the one who was supposed to be there with him.

The Castian spies had made reports about Harlan’s sudden influx of weapons and people.

But it was when a tank, clearly based on Castian designs, was seen, that they increased the pressure on Fomoria.

The border of the nation had been vague, more or less just however far he could push into imperial land without running into towns.

But now it was clear, the killing valleys and artificial raised precipitous hills that curled outward like the teeth of a beast marked the entrance to Fomoria, the maw of the beast.

Thus far the border was barely complete, less than a fifth in the north having been raised so far after weeks of work.

Harlan heard the labored breathing of a Cast whose spine was crushed and whose legs had been removed by his claws.

“Perfect, another test subject.”

He turned from his form as a large six winged and four legged bird back into a humanoid.

Harlan dropped the Cast off in the lab where other Cast were in clear cages, the rust covering their bodies.

He locked eyes with his Shadow and the two conversed about everything that had been learned about the latest batch.

As it stood Harlan believed there was only one chance to unleash his virus, and he wanted it to be perfect.

If it killed too quickly, it wouldn’t spread, if it was too weak they’d make a cure.

His ideal was one with a long incubation period which let it spread without anyone realizing, but then a rapid showing of symptoms and death.

If the Cast were smart, then they’d start locking up their cities, but Harlan doubted they would, he believed that they would scatter like rats, Cast fleeing as far as they could from the infected, dooming them.

He watched one of the infected take his last breath, his lung full of holes as they weakened enough that the force of the coughs burst them.

Harlan slept in his bath, the first rest he had in weeks; the feeling of blood refused to fade without a soak.

He was awoken by a maid.

“Your majesty. Darrath and his friend are requesting entrance to bathe.”

“Fine, send them in.”

Harlan had expected a young boy, not a girl already into womanhood.

“King Fomoria, I didn’t know you were here. Let me excuse myself.”

“So long as you don’t mind my being here, it’s fine to stay, it’s just a bath.”

Harlan’s first thought was that he didn’t trust this girl, her words didn’t seem genuine to him, and she was too happy to be there for her to not have been pretending to be awkward.

But at the same time, when she looked at Darrath it didn’t seem like she had an ill intent.

He assumed she might just look up to him, and thought nothing more of it, his mind slowed by stress and lack of sleep.

“How do you know my son?”

“He saved my life from goblins. It was terrible, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been there.”

“I hope that I’ve instilled a sense of right and wrong. Good job.”

Darrath was interrupted in his playing with water magic by the words of praise.

He didn’t reply, but he was happy and swam over to Harlan.

Yet as he touched his feelers to Harlan he recoiled.

“Papa is still sad.”

“I feel better being around you.”

“But you’re still sad.”

“Papa is just… things are complicated for grown ups. When you grow up, maybe things will be better.”

“Then will papa be happy?”

“I don’t know.”

Harlan ruffled his wet hair and kissed Darrath’s forehead.

“Why don’t you finish washing up? I’d like to hear more about your friend.”

“But I want to play.”

Darrath splashed water around, but Harlan held up his hand and it bade his commands, turning back on the boy.

“Vivi, splash papa.”

She followed her order, but Harlan had two hands, and there was no way he’d be caught off guard by mundane water.

The maid found it funny to see her king playing around, but he suddenly excused himself.

Wearing his hastily thrown on robe after drying himself with magic, Harlan gated to his room and laid on the bed.

It was shameful to him, to flee like this, that he couldn’t even play around a little bit without remembering home, the water fight with Amber and Ava.

He was behind schedule, he hadn’t even visited the Sandsea yet, but for the moment he just wanted to stay in his bed.

He’d been through this already, he knew that pushing everything down, bearing all of this weight, wasn’t good, but he needed to do it, or so he continued to tell himself.

Harlan awoke to a maid telling him it was time for dinner, so he walked the hall, going to eat with the rest of them, and that guest again.

“Viviane, do you spend a lot of time here?”

“Vivi is always here, because she’s my friend, and she- Nevermind.”

“What are you hiding?”

“Vivi said I can’t say it, because friends keep secrets for friends.”

“That’s true. Never betray a friend, even with good reason it is hard to do.”

“It’s really no issue, I’ve simply no home to go back to. Too old for the orphanages, but the home given to me feels empty.”

“Then feel free to spend your time here.”

“Do you have a wife? Or anyone other woman in your life?”

Harlan didn’t hesitate a moment.

“No, I’ve no feelings towards no woman at the moment.”

“That is a shame, it is best for a child to have both parents, yet Darrath lacks a mother figure in his life.”

He was tired and focused on eating, missing the clear reason for her questioning.

“I’m going to sleep, I need to get to the Sandsea tomorrow, I’m far behind schedule, and I need more energy.”

Niwt, capital of the Sandsea. From the dune where he stood, he could see the palace’s pillars that seemed out of place, as if they intended expansion yet never got around to finishing.

He took note of their architecture, all sandstone, likely formed right on the spot using earth magic judging by flaws he could make out from the distance.

Directly turning sand into stone was far more finicky than with dirt, and for someone with improper training or poor control, pockets of sand or air could remain, and these were the first places that would break off.

He thought little of it in the moment as he took the form of a Canis.

An old Canis stumbled through to the gates of Niwt, capital of the Sandsea.

“Please, help me, bandits have taken everything from me.”

The guards rushed to aid him.

“Terrible thing to happen, please, come inside. Are there any others out there?”

The old man smiled and stopped the act, turning back to his true form as the guards backed away and pointed their sabers at him.

“I’ve come to see Jakel, I am King Harlan Fomoria.”

Harlan divined his position and started walking forward.

Judging by the blades that flew towards him, they either didn’t believe him, or simply didn’t know who he was.

The outer layer of armor became like a jelly, and then just as quickly it hardened again, trapping the sabers.

Without swords, they threw fireballs at him, the stone buildings wouldn’t burn, but he found it irresponsible, glass could form on the ground and anyone with bare feet would surely suffer for it.

To prevent this, Harlan plucked the fireballs from the air, wrapping them in a layer of his own fire and telekinesis.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“This is actually quite good, I must commend you. This one however is weak.”

He crushed the lesser fireball in his hand, barely singing his hair but not burning his skin.

“I’ll be keeping this one, I want to see if someone else can best it.”

And he kept walking, more and more guards arrived and tried to fight, but their weapons continued to prove ineffective and their spells unable to reach him until one of the guards made his fireball timed, exploding in Harlan’s hand, causing just laughter from him.

“Very good, you understood that you couldn’t actually strike me. So far I’m happy to see your magic, perhaps there isn’t much to do here.”

He kept walking with fireball in hand and a dozen sabers stuck in his armor when suddenly a sandstorm descended on him.

Women with tight fitting clothes colored like sand attacked while they should’ve been entirely unseen, using their magic spread through the sand itself to detect where Harlan should be.

Yet this trick was one Harlan had known for years, normally done with mist instead of sand, as the more immaterial mists were easier to control due to them holding themselves in the air with little outside influence.

The Sand Furies clashed with one another and were confused by seemingly dozens of targets being inside of the sand, meanwhile Harlan simply walked out of the sandstorm.

When he reached the foot of the palace, Jakel came out wearing light armor and wielding a white gold saber.

Then when he saw who it was, he was upset.

“What have you done?”

“I walked into town and suddenly I was attacked despite making no aggressive actions at any point.

Good work with the response time, your guards realized quickly that they could do nothing and brought in some more elite units, finally, you came to meet me in battle instead of sending a champion.”

Jakel narrowed his eyes and sheathed his saber.

“I thought you disliked power plays.”

“It would’ve been better had none of this happened, since I made no aggressive action, yet your men saw me shift and decided I was a threat without a word.”

Harlan let it unsaid that it did say something about the nation that they would attack an outsider with almost no provocation, but he chalked it up to over zealous gate guards.

“Put that out.”

“Ah, right, I hoped to find a better one, but that guard at the gate threw a nearly perfect fireball.

He must’ve practiced it hundreds of times, even if he is talented.”

Harlan let go of it and the flames simply faded into mana.

“I can return your father to youth now.”

Jakel stumbled as he walked due to the sudden reveal.

“Now?”

“So long as I have a room that nobody else can view the insides of and it's at least 8x8, yes. Though I’ll also need to explain the side effects. Does he have a wife? I don’t recall seeing one at the party.”

“My mother passed away some years ago, sand blight.”

“I don’t know what that is. But he should find a concubine then.”

Jakel raised his eyebrow, but said nothing, this conversation would be for his father.

Harlan explained it and the old man’s expression was solemn.

“I’d rather not do such a thing, even after one’s passing, we believe that marriage remains, so that we may be reunited in the fields of wheat beyond death.”

“That is fine, but know you will have those impulses. If you are strong enough, then there is no issue, you’ll simply maintain control.”

“What about you?”

“I shift often, and I’ve performed major body enhancement more than once, even during puberty, but I’ve never had a strong drive for such things.”

“Hmm… it would be better to simply get over this.”

“Very well.”

Harlan finished the procedure in just over an hour, there were… minor complications due to his being a Canis, but nothing had gone truly wrong.

He stood with his new body, rippling muscles and corrected spine showing his real height at well over seven feet, taller than average for his kind, but not monstrous.

He snarled and performed what Harlan could only assume to be traditional meditative dance to calm himself.

Yet it hadn’t worked, and Harlan realized there was a slight issue he had overlooked, beastkin had rage, a built in curse, handed down by the gods.

In his age the curse couldn’t affect him, his body wouldn’t be able to keep up with it, but with a younger body, flooded with new youth, it came back with a vengeance.

Even still, the king was powerful for a Canis, but Harlan had given him youth, not an enhanced body.

Tau had explained before how to handle the rage, it was as simple as beating the other side into submission.

The howls which came from the room caused great worry, but Jakel could only trust Harlan, as Carmilla had asked of him.

Eventually Harlan stepped out, specks of blood clear on his clothes.

“It was a success. I was a little worried, since I’ve never done this with a beastkin, but I figured out that little quirk.”

“May I see my father?”

“Wait for a little bit, he’s still recovering.”

“What exactly was the little quirk?”

“The rage. As it turns out, bringing him back to his youth reactivated the curse, so I had to beat him until it faded.”

“What barbaric nonsense is this? How dare you-”

Harlan closed the distance between them in an instant, and the guards drew their weapons.

“If there is another answer to the rage, then I do not know it, this is how I was taught by my friend, a Minos, to handle it once it has taken hold. Mind your tone, for he is in no danger, and I have given him an extended life without the aches and pains of age.”

Jakel lightly snarled, not appreciating Harlan’s tone.

“We have sedatives which target the rage.”

“My apologies. Had I known of them I would’ve sought your help.”

Harlan’s ears twitched.

“He is awake now, you may visit. Who would be best to speak with about gathering building materials?”

“There is a quarry some 60 miles west, the quarry master would be the best source of stone, if that is what you need.”

“Yes, stone, I intend to connect your cities. From what we spoke of before, most deaths here are related to the dangers of traversing the desert, and many of the others are related to organized crime.

By building a series of tunnels, and then trains to ride for people and cargo, I intend to cut both of those issues. From there your only real weakness is your magic, but I am uncertain of how much, so I will need you to gather powerful members of your army who are likely to pick up what I teach them quickly, from there they may pass these things.”

Harlan walked through a gate, leaving the prince to speak with his father.

----------------------------------------

Sholl sat outside of Seraphallen’s office, anxious, ready to be scolded like a child by the Hand.

“Come in.”

The Cast’s dark blue and black body contrasted the white and gold right hand and spiked halo of light around his head, like the crown of a religious king, yet these things were not the parts of him that drew the eye so strongly.

Seraphallen floated above the floor with his back to the Finger, and on his back were six limbs, fingers complete with nails, with clear segmentation from the six joints on them.

The other oddity of the man was his body, thin, almost skeleton in shape. Without his metallic sheen, one might not believe him a Cast at all.

“Please, sit.”

Sholl was fearful of what would happen, Ur, Left Hand of the Emperor, his direct superior, sat in the corner, faint red lines showed the fire inside him was at least calm under control.

“Dear Sholl, you’ve encountered a creature destroying one of our cities and stealing are slaves.

What can you tell me about this fight?”

Sholl puffed out his chest.

“It was no threat, I arrived and we fought for only a short time before I destroyed the body entirely with the emperor’s magic.”

“Really? I don’t see why I would’ve been given reports about this as if it was something important if it was simply a magical beast.”

Sholl saw what was happening, and though Seraphallen was not his commander, he knew of the man.

“It tried to copy my magic.”

The Hand turned around, his gaunt face inches from Sholl and his white hand on his throat.

“YOUR MAGIC?”

The Hand lifted Sholl into the air and squeezed until he couldn’t breath, the hollow holes where his eyes should be filled with light.

Then just as quickly as he was angered, the Hand returned to the center of the room, dropping Sholl to the floor.

“What can you tell me about the creature?”

Sholl coughed and cast healing magic to repair his damaged throat before speaking.

“I destroyed the entire body, nothing but a crater was left when the smoke cleared.”

“So you’ve learned nothing about where it came from, or who made it?”

“I destroyed a threat before it could-”

“A second attack has taken place, a monster that shapeshifted and used our emperor’s magic killed hundreds of soldiers and stole many products belonging to the empire.

What you’ve done is take a perfect chance to study what it was and you destroy it because of your shortsightedness. Perhaps you are simply not worthy of the finger you’ve been given.”

Seraphallen put his hand on Sholl’s wrist and started to squeeze, nearly severing it.

“I promise, I promise I will find the maker of the monsters, please, don’t take my finger.”

The pitch black Cast with shining hand moved from his corner and placed his hand on Seraphallen’s.

“He is under me, not you, this is my judgment.”

The giant appendages on his back wiggled and made popping sounds, but he let go of the Finger and floated back.

“Reports indicate that the creature came out of a room where a Dague man was seeing the slavemaster about selling human slaves, and that this man came from the southern gate.

But even these reports are weeks old, and it was only brought to us because the Eyes noticed a possible connection. Seraphallen is here to open a gate for you to go there, but If you fail in this task, your finger will be given to another candidate.”

Ur phased away, having never truly been in the room, but rather astrally projecting his form from his tent.

Sholl made his way to the path of destruction that still remained in the slave markets, and with his arrival, the people, flesh and metal, bowed to him.

“Rise. I come seeking information about the thing which attacked the city.”

The guards lead Sholl to a building where many of the displaced residents were being housed during reconstruction.

He came upon a worker, the one who Harla had spoken with to get a meeting with the slavemaster.

“So you say he was 10 foot tall, hairy, with sharp features and horns that spiraled around his head.

Yet he was also lithe and handsome, with teeth like a beast.”

She couldn’t speak, realizing how fear had warped her mind.

The guard captain stepped forward.

“If you’ve been lying to protect that beast then I’ll have you-”

“Enough.”

The room went silent.

“If you’ve misremembered, that is no crime, but try to focus, think about the man, before you saw the monster.”

After minutes of meditation with Sholl holding her hands and humming, she calmed.

“He was seven feet tall, his horns weren’t straight, but had a slight curve, his features were sharp, but not so much that he looked vampiric. He was handsome, and carried himself with ease, like nothing around him was even possibly a threat. And… his armor, it peaked up from his collar, it was layered, dark gray, like it was made of stone.”

“What about his weapon?”

“He didn’t carry one.”

“He didn’t carry a weapon?”

“Unless it was something I didn’t understand. Oh, the man, the small one who was with him, I think he was human, but he wore a hood. I saw no weapon, but there was a handle for something on both sides of him.”

Once the woman drew it, he recognized it instantly.

Yet this place was far from the imperial heartland, such things should not exist here.

“Captain, you are certain that they came from the south gate?”

“Yes, but we saw the beast cast gate multiple times with little warning, so there is no telling if he came from the south, or if it is a misdirection.”

“Have faith, a clue is better than assuming the worst, if south he came, then south I shall go.

Thank you for all of the help.”

Sholl stepped outside of the building and into the worst destroyed areas, casting the sigil of creation, building stone walls and evening the land so that it could more easily be built upon.

Then he started walking south, without clear destination in mind.

One of the residents did have to warn him however, that there was nothing south but monsters across the canal, beasts of stone who’ve caused entire armies to vanish, not leaving a scrap of flesh or metal, it was not a place which people would survive.