One year earlier, immediately after the Founder’s Festival concluded…
“You expect me to wait,” the queen said, her frustration magnified by the fact that her husband wasn’t as frustrated as she was.
She could see that he kept his armor on, including his helmet, while speaking with her. Though he wasn’t truly speaking with her, as both of them were utilizing a paired set of projection orbs that worked over long distances, allowing for communication even while they were on other ends of the continent. Its only downside was its limited window of availability, when certain stars were aligned properly, which meant the majority of their conversations held this way were brief.
She knew she was distracting herself with minutiae to suppress her anger, or she’d lash out at the king, unfairly as well, as he was off in a fort to the north, his last stop on the tour around the areas most often assailed by their Enemy. That he was accompanied by a legion of the army meat little; his duty was to ensure the well-being of the kingdom and its subjects, and that meant sometimes he had to personally see that the borders were secure.
“Has anyone died from his actions?” the king asked, while his gaze was fixed on something in the distance, the orb only showing his face.
“Not yet, but things may progress that way if we don’t quash this before it becomes too –”
“Then it can wait until my return,” the king said, and by his tone, the queen knew her husband had issued her a command. In her heart, it rankled that he could do that, but her mind asserted that it was his right and she had no grounds to complain.
“House Pencoit…have they taken any actions against the boy yet?” he continued to ask her.
She shook her head. “They’ve decided to attempt mediation, though the youths are grumbling about it.”
“And the envoys from the tribes? Any word on their reactions?” he asked her, his voice calm even in the face of possible retaliation from the beastfolk.
“You and I both know what they’ll push for. We have to send him off or they’ll cry dishonor and cite all the past nobles who’ve offended them as evidence,” she proposed.
It was for the best for everyone if they just sent the boy on his way. From what she’d heard from her daughter, the boy wanted to travel. Some nonsense about seeing the world. She scoffed at the idea. What, did he imagine he was a noble heir from thousands of years past! The seas and skies were far more dangerous than they were in that era, though the connections of teleporting formations did help to alleviate the burden of travel considerably.
The boy would be handed off to the beastfolk, who would judge his character and determine whether his creation of the tiniest ash house in history was an affront to their culture and their heroes, or if it was simply a misguided and confused youth attempting to emulate the legends of old, one who was in need of guidance.
That the boy had no attachments to the kingdom was a double-edged sword for them. If the tribal elders failed him, his loss would not cause too much distress at home, perhaps some curious children whining, but that could all be easily managed. If he passed, however, he would be honored and revered in a manner few humans ever had.
And none of that honor would bleed over to the kingdom that raised him, as there was nothing and no one to bind him to the kingdom. For all that informants were adept at their job, even they were hard-pressed to produce results when looking into nameless tier 8 villages too isolated and poor to withstand anything other than a light breeze. There was no paperwork or documentation about his birth or residency in the village, nor were there any people there that recalled someone of his description, or who his parents were. That the village had been savaged by locusts a few decades prior, leading to a mass migration from the loss of harvests, did not make their job any easier.
For all she knew, the boy didn’t even come from that backwater. Perhaps he simply fell out of the sky one day and decided to join the academy. There was nothing proving otherwise, after all.
“In that case…we will be the ones to send him off. I’d imagine the sight of the royal family taking the trouble to do so would remain in his memory for a long time, don’t you, dear?”
“...Perhaps,” she conceded.
“You said he was adept with both blood and nature magic. Was there anything else he excelled at?” the king inquired.
“Taming,” the queen responded at once. “From all accounts, the boy is a natural tamer. The judges claimed that during the competition, he was more interested in the beasts than the prizes,” she recalled. “Though why anyone would not show interest in any spatial item is beyond me.”
“Taming,” the king sighed, “The Mother seems to be throwing this child into a pit of trials. What are the odds that the elders do not strike him down for the ash house? And what are the odds that they view his taming as something harmless? And what then, are the odds that he returns to the kingdom, if he survives all that?”
The way he spoke, it was almost as if this boy’s departure was something he lamented. If that was how he felt, perhaps she would have to reconsider her own stance.
“Perhaps the council might –” she managed to say before the king cut her off.
“No,” he stated, turning to look straight into her eyes, their gazes meeting as she saw the everpresent fire burning within his eyes, that same fire that had drawn her to him at first. “The council only convenes when the world itself is in peril, not for some minor case of questionable honor.”
“The possibility of war does not concern the council?” she asked incredulously, steadfast in her belief that if war were to break out between the two races, as it almost had so often in the past, it would draw in their mutual Enemy on an unimaginable scale, an outcome nobody desired to see. And the beastfolk most certainly would go to war if they perceived the kingdom to be harboring a criminal from justice, and slighting their honor even further.
“If war were to occur, the council would step in only when one side went too far.” he said callously and with such certainty that she knew it to be true.
Even as a member of the council, the king did not have the authority to dictate its course of action. The council itself stayed out of politics, but she had hoped this incident and its possible consequences would be enough to give them a reason to intervene. She had been informed of the latest news from the council, her husband sharing so he could gain her counsel, so she was aware that the monsters were gaining in both strength and numbers, their rate of spawning increasing over the years.
He had already deployed one legion to patrol the northern coast, and another to the Wall, to aid in the never-ending battle that seemed to spew misery and death every day.
The statement shocked her at the…indifference he was suggesting, which caused them to grow silent as they each considered their own thoughts.
“Then…we send the boy?” the queen asked.
“We send the boy. It is…unfortunate, but necessary.” the king confirmed. “Perhaps if he returns, we could offer him a position as the royal tamer?”
The queen rolled her eyes. “If we did, Mazhaan would be more fascinated by him than the new animals he would bring in.”
The rest of their conversation revolved around their children and how they were each progressing, until finally the orb died out, cutting off their farewells.
Present day…
“So, young man, let’s begin with the lesser reason why you’ve been summoned here,” the king said, making it clear to me that I was called to the palace for more than one reason. “Last year, a member of House Pencoit ambushed you in public, which you dealt with remarkably, by the way. I’ve seen the projections. Good reaction time too,” the king said casually.
“Thank you?” I said hesitantly.
He nodded. “As a result, that particular young man is under house arrest, and has been stripped of any ability to use magic in the future. The patriarch of said house, however, has additionally offered to provide you with compensation, in hopes that you take no further action against them or the other members of their house.”
I was stunned when I heard that my attacker could no longer use magic. Thankfully, I had gained a bit more control over my expressions, and no longer let it show on my face as much.
“I would gladly accept anything the patriarch decides to offer me. Though I must ask, if only out of self-preservation. Does the entire house share the attitude of my attacker, or is it just that the tree produced one bad apple?”
“That is none of your concern, young mage.” the queen coldly stated, rebuking me for my nosiness.
I bowed my head in apology and rose again, subconsciously affecting a neutral expression on my face.
“We will convey your words to the patriarch, though I doubt he will receive them in time to be relevant. Now, onto the next and more significant matter.” The king said, not pausing or allowing me to ruminate on his cryptic choice of words.
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“You’re obviously aware of what an ash house is, young mage, not to mention how to make one, even if it was a bit crude. But do you know what it means to the beastfolk?” the king asked me.
“From what I understand, those who create ash houses are treated with the utmost respect and become something similar to a hero, your majesty,” I said, recalling what the merchant’s diary said about them.
“You’re not wrong, but there’s more to it than that now,” the king said, shaking his head. “Do you know why they are treated as heroes? Let me be more specific. Do you know why beastfolk who manage to create ash houses are seen as heroes or legends?”
“Father, if I may?” The princess raised her hand, drawing everyone’s attention as the king nodded to her and gestured for her to proceed.
“Mage Rhaaj. I’m going to assume you have the common knowledge that elves are the most gifted when it comes to manipulating essence, followed by humans, and then the beastfolk. I’m also assuming that you’re aware that everyone has different affinities, which are determined at birth. Do you know which affinities the beastfolk tend to have?” she asked me.
“I would presume they are random, just as they are with humans, but your question leads me to believe I’m wrong about that,” I said. For all the time I had spent in the library in the last year, I hadn’t looked up common affinities of the beastfolk, nor elves for that matter. Though I did stumble onto a book that claimed older elves could manually rotate between affinities, although that ability was limited to the base affinities of water, ground or rock, fire, and wind.
I truly believed that the word 'earth' was reserved for a very specific planet, and not something that applied to every planet’s soil, dirt, sand, or rocks.
“Every single beastfolk has two affinities: something random, as you’ve stated, and rock. This fact holds true for all beastfolk, past, present, and future. Every…single…one.” she said.
“Now, you know that beastfolk are the worst race at controlling essence. As I’ve just informed you, you also know that beastfolk are predisposed towards rock magic, as they’re guaranteed to possess the affinity. And you also know that it takes a remarkable amount of control and concentration for a beastfolk to make an ash house,” she said slowly, and I could feel the trap spring around me from the way she spoke, condescendingly and arrogantly.
“Would you like to speculate as to why there are no ash houses made by elves or humans? At least, until you decided to make one, publicly and thoughtlessly, at the time of year when it is nearly guaranteed that envoys from the other races would be present and witness it?”
And as she managed to sneer audibly while keeping it off her face as she said those words, I felt the truth hit me like a blow to the head.
It was only difficult for beastfolk to create an ash house, which was why they lauded those who could do it. Those of the other races who did so….were probably seen as mocking the beastfolk.
“Thank you for that summary, daughter. You may return to your duties now. Oh, and check in on your sister. She was calling for you this morning,” the king ordered, as the princess flinched in response, more likely at her dismissal from the conversation than the rebuke at being with her sister, but I didn’t devote any more of my attention to what she was doing anymore.
I was far too concerned with what was in my immediate future. A future that was looking entirely unstable.
“So, I take it from the look on your face that you understand how the beastfolk might be less than thrilled with you at the moment. They could argue that you made a mockery of their heroes and ancestors’ greatest accomplishments while fighting children. Although, seeing as you’re practically a child yourself, they might give the smallest amount of leniency. Even if you claimed ignorance, it would just make matters worse, as that would be the equivalent of saying that even an ignorant child is capable of doing what their heroes did.”
“Your Majesty,” I said, interrupting the king, which under normal circumstances would be wholly unwise, but my future looked bleak enough as it was, and I was in no mood to entertain any subtlety or doublespeak anymore. The guards tightened their grips on their weapons as I spoke, but the king looked completely unbothered. This was likely a new experience for him, as I imagined the king hadn’t been interrupted in a long time.
“Yes?” he asked me calmly, his mood at odds with the queen, who put her teacup on the table a bit too hard when I made my interruption.
“What do you want from me?” I had thrown away any veneer of propriety, as the royals seemed to actually take pleasure in the manipulation of words that triggered emotional responses in their subjects.
If the beastfolk were unhappy with me, they could have me. If they really wanted to kill me…I wouldn’t mind. I couldn’t stop them, at least not alone, and the attitude of the royals made it clear they weren’t going to stick up for me.
There was also the fact that I had a grim fate waiting for me, hovering just over my head until the right time. My soul had a timer on it that was counting down to a likely unfortunate outcome for me, if not outright death, so the prospect of death at the hands of the beastmen wasn’t the worst that could happen. I would just plead ignorance and beg for, if not a painless death, then at least a quick one.
The king smirked. “I must say, I do relish the infrequent occurrence of bluntness. Even I tire of the veiled threats hiding behind polite smiles all the time.”
“You have to leave,” the crown prince said, his statement causing everyone’s heads to turn towards him. He had largely ignored the entire conversation thus far, so why had he now decided to jump in?
“You’re not dead yet, Mage Rhaaj, so don’t act like it. That being said, the beastfolk have spoken of their…desire, to meet you, to judge your character and determine whether you deserve death for your actions or not.” Through all of that, the prince never once looked at me, keeping his eyes fixed on some gardener tending to the plants some distance away. “And considering what they might do if we refuse them…well, even you can figure out what the best course of action would be in our stead.”
Yep. They would hand me over to avoid a war coming to them. How utterly stupid.
I sighed and shook my head. “Their honor is a fragile thing indeed, if one child playing games can shatter it in his ignorance.”
The crown prince turned to me and smirked. “And isn’t that the Mother’s truth, though I wouldn’t repeat that in the company of beastfolk.”
I turned back to the king and queen, who were smiling and grimacing at our conversation, respectively. “So? How long do I have before they take possession of me?”
The king barked out genuine peals of laughter, clutching his stomach before he responded. “Minutes at best, young one,” he paused once he saw my eyebrows shoot up. “What? I’ve held them off for a year already! You should be grateful I allowed you to graduate at all and didn’t surrender you the day it happened!”
“Yeah, I’m overflowing with gratitude right now,” I said, the sarcasm returning to my tone like it never left, despite the years of letting it sit unused in my brain, collecting dust.
A guard hurried in from behind us and rushed to the king’s side, saluting him before whispering in his ear and running back out of the garden.
“It appears our friends from the south are waiting for you, little Rhaaj. If the Mother sees fit to embrace you, remember that you were ultimately responsible for what happened.” The king said, his mirth still present on his face as he dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
The guards dragged me from the gazebo until I wrenched my arms out of their grasp and started walking by myself, though that action did cause my ‘escort’ to grow by an additional two guards. Were they meant to be preventing me from running away? Now?! In the royal palace?!
The walk through the palace felt far shorter to me this time than it had when I was first called in, probably due to nerves. Now, I felt almost a detached sense of peace. I didn’t have to worry anymore about being found out as an otherworlder, or saying something obviously out of place, or offending the wrong noble.
Wiat, did beastfolk have nobles? I knew they had elders and tribal chiefs, but was there an actual nobility present? God, I hoped that was just a human thing.
We finally reached the gates, though the guards didn’t leave my side until I was officially past the gates and face to face with a small company of beastfolk. They were a mixture of different species, some familiar to me, and some decidedly unfamiliar.
In the lead position was a humanoid panther, followed by two wolfish men, a group of reptilian faces that I had trouble distinguishing apart from their scale colors, and a shorter person resembling a spider, judging by the multiple eyes on its humanoid face and the extra two pairs of chitinous arms.
I turned to the panther man and recalled my lessons on the beastfolk language, dragonspeak, and briefly debated whether it was a good idea to let them know I was capable of speaking their language, before deciding the duplicity wasn’t a good call in the long run. If they ever found out, they would be angry with me about the deception, whereas if I was upfront about it, it might prove I was more honorable, something they were apparently in doubt about.
Granted, I wasn’t the biggest believer in honor, but I did have a tiny voice in my head called my conscience, and I mostly acted in accordance with my conscience.
I bowed to the panther man with my right hand over my left, keeping both palms open and facing downwards, while I said in the beastfolk tongue, “Greetings, friends, and a good day to you.” A polite greeting between strangers, which couldn’t possibly go wrong or backfire on me.
To a man, they were all startled as I heard a collection of hisses, gasps, growls, and clicking, which I interpreted as shock and hopefully not outrage.
The panther man looked down on me, standing a full foot taller than me, as did most of the others, save for the spider guy. It seemed like he was testing me as his yellow feline eyes bore into mine for far too long, before he offered a shallower bow back to me, his bottom hand closed into a fist to signify his status as a warrior.
“I bid you good day, little brother. You speak our tongue well for a human. It bodes well for you,” he said in a deep voice. “We are aware of your situation, and the elders will likely approve of your knowledge of our tongue, as it speaks to your desire and ability to learn.” His tail, which I hadn’t noticed until now, began swishing slowly from side to side as he spoke, which I took as a good sign.
“We shouldn’t keep the elders waiting any longer. Shall we?” I gestured for us to proceed, and we moved forward, walking through the capital, where I would probably be taken to the beastfolk continent.
Sure enough, they say be careful what you wish for. I had the opportunity to travel and visit a different continent, even if the visit would be cut short once I was.
But despite the coinflip that my upcoming trial or judgment seemed to hinge on, I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face.
After all, I had an army of companions accompanying me everywhere I went.
If the elders decided that I deserved a long, drawn-out, or painful death, I would make sure that it would be the last thing they ever did, secrets and consequences be damned.
I mean, who could react to a vorander appearing out of nowhere and eating their face?
You’ve finally embraced your entire being, then?
The phantom voice had been with me, annoying and tormenting me, for a long time. But no longer.
Yes, I have. I thought to myself. And, fortunately, that doesn’t include you.
And with a mere thought, I felt the voice cry in pain as I strangled it, crushing its existence until there was no trace of it anymore, scouring any lingering traces of its being in its hiding place:
My soul.