Chapter 40
> Has the Watcher followed us to this world?
> Or was it our mistake to open the portal back to Home? Are the souls that came through tainted by the Watcher?
> The others dismiss the risk involved in dealing with this threat. They believe that since the Watcher has never attacked, only observed, that this will always be the case. But we are dealing with something that is literally beyond our understanding.
> I fear the power of something which can live in the gulf between worlds.
> More, when I fall asleep, I feel something watching me. It is the same feeling I got standing in the summoning circles with the others, looking up at the Watcher Between Worlds as it looked down at us.
> I felt naked and exposed before that gaze, as though it can see through my skin into my very soul. I felt it weighing my sins and my virtues, and I felt it judging me wanting.
> I shall lobby the others to forbid the use of the grand summoning ritual in the future. Although the Watcher has never made hostile overtures, I do not trust it to remain forever peaceful as we populate this Elysium with the souls of the dead.
> It is unfortunate that the ritual has already made its way into the akashic records. I can only hope that our descendants use this power wisely and with proper caution.
> Gaius the Wise
> Records of the Dawn
King Fenard looked up at the Scholar from Earth. Phil was his name. He’d been a college professor in his past life, which meant that the man was used to making a living by the knowledge in his head. Fenard regarded it as unfortunate that the man was a philosopher, but he was fluent in the two languages which occurred in the ancient records, so that at least counted for something.
“You’re certain that this is an accurate translation?” Fenard asked. “The founders also saw the eye in the sky?”
Phil withered under Fenard’s intensity, but stood by his work. They stood in Fenard’s study, surrounded by books. “It’s as accurate of a translation as I can make it in your language,” Phil answered. “I am still working on translating the rest from the Latin and the Ancient Greek. It’s fortunate that the ancients thought to preserve their works with magic, or else the papyrus would be little more than dust by this point.”
“That sort of record preservation is standard in this world,” King Fenard explained. “Is there anything else you’ve uncovered in your study of the ancient texts that might be useful?”
“I’m not comfortable answering that question, to be honest, Your Majesty. I believe that all knowledge is relevant and useful, and that the knowledge contained in the books you have me studying is especially relevant to the current situation. We are reading the notes and records of the men and women who established the system in your world; I find it hard to believe that knowing how they accomplished this task will be irrelevant in your attempts to save it.”
Phil paused, then sighed and admitted “However, I’ve failed to find anything which I believe will help with the current crises in Velund and Petosh.”
Fenard nodded. “All the same, I’d like to make copies of your notes and translations to share among my advisors. And especially a copy for Tom. Perhaps as a Controller and a Progenitor himself, he will gain insights into the records of the ancients which we lack, or have overlooked.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Phil agreed.
Yecha stepped into the room, and Phil went rigid. The spymistress made the philosopher most uncomfortable, a fact which she enjoyed using to tease him in the days since the man from Earth had joined Fenard’s staff of advisors.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll bring my notes to your scribes to have them copied,” the philosopher said, and he hurried out of the room. Fenard sighed.
“What is it, Yecha? Please tell me that it’s merely an update and not a new catastrophe entirely.”
“We’ve just received word from Sir Tirns,” she said. “Tilluth valley is burning.”
Fenard flinched. “Casualties?”
“Unknown at this time,” Yecha answered. “The dragon is making a nest right next to the Tilluth Core. Tirns and his companion are unable to get close enough to search for survivors, but a number of refugees from the village have been seen heading towards the nearby Tuksan. The reports state that Lord Lubald Worth gave his life in defense of the village. He heroically challenged the dragon, distracting it long enough for the villagers and farmers of the valley to realize what was occurring and make their escape or hide in the dungeon.”
“Lord Worth is dead?” Fenard asked.
“According to the reports, yes,” Yecha said. “It’s hard to believe that a level thirty-six Warrior would be able to challenge Resh the Violet Dragon and survive. That he was able to distract it for any amount of time is an accomplishment worthy of a ballad. Perhaps his family will be mollified when they hear of his final deed.”
Fenard sighed. “The poor lad. First the unfortunate encounter with the Flame-lynx left him voiceless, and then to die in the flames of a dragon. But you’re right. Commission a bard to sing of Lord Worth’s life at my next court appearance. I am not looking forward to telling Tom that his home was attacked by a dragon.”
“I could take on that onus,” Yecha suggested.
“No, I will,” Fenard insisted. “You said the dragon is showing signs of nesting in the valley?”
“Tirns confirmed that it has not moved for three days,” Yecha answered. “It’s burned down the village and made a nest in the ruins. Antoine is two weeks away; I’ve already penned him a missive to update him as to the location of his target. I wish that he were more diligent in reporting in, but at least he accepted the link-pen when he began this assignment.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“And he’ll likely smash it the moment that the dragon is slain,” Fenard said, sighing. “I suspect he only accepted it to remain updated as to the dragon’s movements.”
“It’s a shame that there’s no way to bring him to heel,” Yecha lamented.
“Now that I know the source of his animosity towards me, a part of me cannot fault him for it,” Fenard admitted. “If my father is truly responsible for the death of Marshal the Controller before he could complete his System Quest, then a great many questions that I have been neglecting to ask would be answered. It pains me to think of how the world might have been different should Marshal have survived. Perhaps this current crisis would have been avoided entirely.”
“There’s little point in self-recrimination at this point, especially not for the actions of your father,” Yecha scolded.
“You’re right, of course. What news from the other nations?”
“Petosh is making good on its promise to send all of its Command Cores. The first batch will arrive in five to seven weeks. Those are the Cores that were sent before they knew that they were to be the next nation to fall. The remaining Cores are being shipped now, and will hopefully arrive before the collapse begins,” Yecha explained.
“I pity Arom the knowledge that the fate of his kingdom is completely out of his hands,” Fenard said. “It rests entirely in the hands of two sets of couriers and a fifteen-year-old boy. We can only hope that Tom’s insights and capabilities will be sufficient to prevent a second nation from collapsing as Velund has done.”
“Yes, speaking of Velund,” Yecha continued, “A second, third, and fourth refugee train have been sighted making their way through the wastes to Welsius. These refugees were willing to speak with our scouts rather than firing on them, and they’ve explicitly asked Welsius for aid. In return, the scouts have directed them towards the villages that you had Tom Link into his network. It will be several weeks until they arrive, however, and they appear to lack the supplies for the entire trip. They are already rationing what they do have, but according to the reports of our scouts, they don’t have enough food to make it all of the way.”
Fenard exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do these refugee trains have weapons?”
“According to the knights who scouted them, no more than necessary for such large groups traveling between nations,” Yecha informed him.
“So yes, they do,” Fenard said. He sighed. “Send word to these refugees that we are sending our own forces to intercept them. If they disarm themselves when our forces arrive, they will be granted the protection of the Welsian Army for the remainder of the journey, which will, of course, include enough rations to make the journey onto Welsian soil.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll make the arrangements,” she said.
“Any word from Galya?” Fenard asked. “Has she declared her intentions?”
“Unfortunately no,” Yecha answered. “Our spies have confirmed that she seems to be training an army, but which direction she’ll march it in is anyone’s guess.”
“Not exactly,” Fenard said. “We must assume that her spies are still in place. The news that Petosh is next to fall may have reached her ears. The chance that she marches towards Welsius increases with every hour.”
“As you say,” Yecha agreed. “What of our own army?”
Fenard was silent for a moment. “Collect one thousand of the most promising recruits and bring them here,” he said after a moment. “It is time to test the limits of Tom’s Evolve skill.”
“As you wish.”
~~~~~~
“Thank you for your consideration,” the candidate said, “I look forward to hearing from you again.”
“Goodbye,” Tom answered, and the link between the mirrors was cut off. He turned to Grant, who stood next to him in Fenard’s hall of linked Scry-mirrors. “What do you think?”
“I think that any of the candidates that Arom has put forward would make a fine selection,” Grant answered. “Which is why I think that we should hire all of them.”
“All of them?” Tom asked, surprised.
“Yes. Put in place a council rather than a single figurehead. There are seven qualified candidates. Two Mages, a Warrior, three Merchants and a Rogue. We can put each of them in charge of a division of the Petoshian A.G. and have them work together. Dividing the power among equals rather than concentrating it at the top of the organization,” Grant explained.
“That’s not what we’re doing in Welsius,” Tom pointed out. “I mean, you’re in charge of everything here. Wouldn’t the Petoshians resent not having a proper president?”
“I am not handling everything by myself, Tom. I’ve already hired a number of secretaries and assistants who have taken on a significant portion of the burden. Delegation is the key to success in an organization like this. The temptation to micro-manage must be avoided, and we must put faith in our representatives to make decisions with the best interest in the organization at heart.”
“And what if they don’t?” Tom asked. “What if they use the opportunities to line their own pockets?”
“That’s one reason why I’m suggesting a council,” Grant answered. “With seven people leading the Petoshian branch, we can hopefully have the council police itself. It will be harder for them to hide any malfeasance from each other than it would be for a single appointee to hide it from our oversight alone. It will take unanimous cooperation to embezzle from us, rather than an executive action. Many governments on Earth use this strategy, a separation of powers, in order to prevent corruption. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than dictatorships.”
“I see,” Tom said. “Okay then, we’ll go with that. I’m guessing you already have an idea of how to organize their charter?”
“I’ll draw up their organization’s structure shortly,” Grant said. “Once they have their mandates, I’m certain it won’t take them very long to begin putting the foundation of our Petoshian sister-guild in place.”
“I just hope that the Cores arrive in time for us to possibly make a difference,” Tom said. “I’m not certain that linking them onto my network will do anything to stop the Collapse, but I can’t think of anything else to do for Petosh.”
“Sometimes, Tom, all we can do is do our best and pray for the rest,” Grant informed him. “Let’s go, we have other duties to see to now that the interviews are over. I’ll take care of letting the candidates know of our decision.”
“Thanks, Grant.”