Chapter 190: A Betting Man
Nara had been able to spend two days in relaxation and recovery before she was called to a meeting at the palace. It was kind of them that they hadn’t demanded her presence the very first day; Traveler had not waited, but a part of Nara was relieved she had what had been promised to her.
One step closer to her goal. It was just the final, damn frustrating coordinates that continually eluded her.
After her second semi-compliant abduction, Sen had taken steps to inform the Adventure Society of the situation, and Knowledge priests had shown up to corroborate the plan. If Nara was acting on behalf of a goddess, there was little question of where her loyalties lay, that even if she returned, she would not be branded a traitor. At the very least, the Knowledge priests could verify whether she spoke truth or not (or at least, whether she spoke on what happened truthfully. Knowledge couldn’t actually verify if something was capital-T True.)
Kallid castle was nestled between the Ilwyd mountains and Cysegr lake, which always seemed to remain as placid as glass despite the storm that raged beyond the ridges of the mountains. The Lake of Sanctuary it was called, for the magic that calmed the tearing winds and warmed the chill. The lake never froze, and the winter never blanketed the valley too heavily, remaining milder (comparatively) in this region than anywhere else in the range.
The majesty of the castle was perfectly reflected by the stillness of the lake; Tall, grey parapets slightly angled inwards, drawing the eye to the steep spires that sloughed off snow and sleet. The spires and roofing were green, paying worship to spring, like blades of grass stretching upwards after a winter’s repose. The castle was more elaborate than the architecture of the rest of the city, with a multitiered sloping design that allowed for water to run downwards, into the lake that the castle was elevated above. Rivulets of spring ran in rivers down from the mountains, creating cascaded steps between the mountains and the lake. The town drew from the lake, careful not to let it overflow, as the rain from the Eternal Storm was unending.
Nara wondered if the castle remained from the era of the Einvaldi, but the architecture was less austere than the mausoleum had been: more youthful, more fanciful, the hope for an end to winter rather than the eternal wait for a storm that would never end.
Had the Einvaldi left to allow for the growth of a new era?
Nara disembarked from the skimmer along with Sen and Aliyah, who were her companions for this trip. The knowledge priest, Gwydion, accompanied them, alongside the castle worker that had been their chauffeur.
The castle was close to the lake, partially built over it on supports, and not much in the way of gardens, and as nurturing as the embrace of Cysegr was, this close to the storm, the harsh winds occasionally escaped the confines of Ilywd. Still, even cold Kallid had her hardy wildflowers, and their persistence colored the sweeps of the valley.
The castle was the center of Kallid’s court, with chambers and meeting halls and guestrooms to house any number of adventurers, nobles, officials, priests, and foreign dignitaries. Kallid’s court in general was more subdued, with less fervor than the fast-moving politics of Sanshi and Rowan, content to slowly navigate the future under the watchful care of their queen.
The halls were lined with deep greens of the forest, the spring greens of new grass, the deep blues of a winter night, and threaded with golds and silvers of the ice, moon, and stars. The carpet was plush and clean, and Nara was tempted to remove her shoes and feel it, but the sense of Chrome’s boring gaze from within her mind stilled her compulsion.
Fresh flowers stemmed from vases, and windows were lined with great luxurious swaths of satin damask fabric, emerald, green cradling the mid-morning sun. The windows were wider than those of the town, and enchanted to resist the cold, although unnecessary in the temperature of the sixth month. Elegant wreaths of dried flowers, branches, and leaves were strung through the hallways, their aromas suffusing the halls: a tradition of Kallid, that sought to preserve the spring into the long winter night.
Their castle attendant was a true professional, and they arrived at the meeting room just on time, other officials filing in to the just opened doors. Nara didn’t want to draw any attention, possible for now, but would be an impossibility once she was addressed before the Queen’s court.
She shuffled in after Sen and Aliyah, both of whom were far more in their element: Aliyah had commuted to the castle ever since her initial discovery, and Sen was raised to participate in high-ranking meetings.
Not that Nara was nervous about high rankers—she had never properly developed that sense of self-preservation. She just hated meetings. Ugh, and she had no phone to fiddle on to pass the time.
Unfortunately, there was no dithering about and spacing out as the council talked about other matters of the day-to-day of ruling Kallid and caring for her people. She would’ve really appreciated a piece of paper and pencil to doodle eyeballs, trees, and squiggles all around a piece of paper (it would’ve been such a blast to the past), but it seemed, today, she was the topic at hand.
“Nara and Team Unknown,” the person who Nara could only assume was Tyranel, since she lounged upon the throne at the front of the room with a distinctly shit-eating grin only a ruler that suffered no consequences could sport said, “Welcome!”
“Thanks.” Aliyah gently pinched her side. “Your Majesty,” she tacked on, a beat later. Glances indicated her pause was not unnoticed. Already going so well.
Tyranel was a snow leopard patterned leonid (so as not to compare them to animals)—they were the most common type of leonid in Kallid—and Nara could’ve sworn she looked familiar, but she did struggle with facial blindness when it came to the scale and fur covered races. (Frankly, she struggled with facial blindness with all the races.)
A cape of heavy cloth, lined with thick fur, draped insouciantly over a shoulder, pooling over the back of her seat. Her posture matched her cape, about the furthest thing away from sitting properly in a chair, as if she had made a challenge with someone to do so and was in it to win it. She wore a sleeveless tunic cut far too short to even be considered as semi-formal, so short that Nara was afraid she’d get flashed if she maintained eye contact. (You never really knew with Tyranel.) Leonid fashion was somewhat exhibitionist to human and elf modesty standards, and as cold weather bowed out for spring to stand center stage, out came Kallid’s less appropriate fashions.
There was no lack of accessories: a jeweled badge to pin her cape to her tunic; silver braided cords and lined frogging; and a colorful embroidered sash in Kallid colors that clinched at her waist generously granting the loose tunic some shape.
All in all, it was probably pointless: Tyranel Kallid would look majestic wearing nipple stickers and striped stockings. If Aliyah’s cool-but-not-entirely-concealed expression was anything to go by, that thought had long sprung up in her mind and decided to stick around, regularly re-entertained. (Aliyah had already tapped gold rank Wisteria; Nara was starting to wonder if Aliyah would fuck her way up to diamond rank. Typically, humans, elves, and runics weren’t supposed to be attracted to leonids and draconids, but well, Aliyah had never been attracted to appearance, but to power and character.)
The meeting proceeded normally from then onwards: Nara was questioned about what she had learned from her brief stint as a spy, and she provided whatever answers as best she could. Whenever doubts were posed—although the council was gentle, considering, and merely due diligence, and her status as just a bronze ranker meant there was little suspicion that she could be a true spy, or inflict any real damage (there were certain advantages to being lower rank)—Gwydion the Knowledge priest would verify or clarify her information in a way that was better understood by the council.
Her information on The Advent’s crystal tech was of surprising interest to them, and the Inventor Society representative present (and Creation priest) would attribute her with a portion of the invention’s profit and rights, for her world espionage (corporate espionage was permitted as long as it was against the enemy, and Nara could hardly fault Erras for retaliating against The Advent’s own tactics, and reversing engineering the enemy’s tech was a tale as old as Earth’s history of warfare). Amara would probably love to work on that particular invention, as it was well within her interest in ‘everyday objects’, but it was out of Nara’s hands. She would try to speak to the Invention Society’s representative, afterwards, and recommend Amara for the project. She had prior experience with crystal artifice due to Sanshi’s abundance of crystal.
The most discourse worthy information had been her revelation of The Harmony’s true nature, The Advent’s rejection of all gods, and the ultimate presence of gods, unable to intervene. Those gods who had a large amount of unspent interference points, but it was unknown whether they’d help another world destroy the Advent: Knowledge would not, as their purpose was to propagate their concept, even beyond the constraints of their world. As long as The Advent pursued knowledge, Knowledge of Premiesta would stand neutral. His gift to Nara, after all, did not help Erras nor disadvantage Premiesta appreciably.
Nara did, however, keep one thing quiet, and Knowledge’s priest unexpectedly kept her secret for her. Nara wondered if it was considered part of their mutual deal to keep her abilities under wraps and restricted; Gwydion spoke nothing of the new capabilities her portal possessed, its potential to send another spy to Premiesta.
However, there was little meaning in sending a bronze ranker, which was her limit. Nara had been welcomed, and had access granted of an honored guest. A true spy would not have the bracelet and its access to all of The Advent’s services (and its tracking function would be critically exposing for a saboteur).
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It was with her explanation of the books she traded for their continued goodwill that she met the most outrage. Her aura was met with probing pushes from higher rankers, and kindly shielded from them with Tyranel’s own aura. There were accusations of being “Weak willed and compliant, quick to give up secrets under pressure,” of “A completely unnecessary forfeiture of information when refusal would have sufficed.”
She felt the burn of their accusations beneath their skin, just as their own gazes seemed to try to pick her apart and look within, and if peeling back her skin would expose the traitor beneath. She had questioned herself, after all, whether her gift of those books had been necessary at all, whether The Advent had been so assured of her confinement to their world that she had no choice but compliance, that all resistance would be unproductive and pointless.
She had done the same on Erras: submitted to their ethical and morality, adapted to the lifestyle of an adventurer. She looked and she saw what John saw, the unethical training of children for combat, the ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger mentality’, that those with power occupied positions of power, the same social and geopolitical issues that plagued Earth also plagued Erras.
For all their unethical foreign policy, The Advent had been a world united.
What major nation treated those outside their borders better than those within? The Advent’s answer to tribalism was to integrate everyone within their tribe. Crime against The Other would cease when they were no longer The Other.
As an outworlder, Nara had always felt the outsider. She may claim her team as her found family, her nebula house as her home, but no world and no nation would have her sole allegiance.
Nara was not an altruist, but perhaps why she could not treat with The Advent, to disadvantage the many for the few, was because she not a true loyalist to the few in the first place. She had thought it before; Erras’s political problems were their own, and Nara had no revolutionary motivation to stir the pot. She still held to her own values, as much as any human could hold true to a set of values in a complex moral landscape.
“You can get away with that thoughtlessness now,” Chrome’s voice echoed in her mind, “But with power comes responsibility. You should choose what that responsibility will be before circumstances choose for you.”
The argument waned: the Knowledge priest confirmed its contents were well selected and not outstandingly harmful, the contents of one of the books had been the one to lead to the development of the astral space detection ritual. It was a theory book of astral spaces, their unique characteristics, how they formed onto a dimensional membrane of a world, and the signature they leave on the weave. Several disgruntled auras still brushed over her, but the tried adventurers on Tyranel’s council were understanding; they knew of difficult decisions and costs of victory.
Eventually, her hearing ended, and the council moved onto other topics. The chaotic, multi-nation war of the Dao Hai City States had escalated, with a notable attack on a population center. Nisei’s betrayal of Erras had been leaked, and the population of Sanshi was calling into question the power and position of the great families; Nara stole a glance to Sen at this, whose aura matched his expression, placid and unbothered.
Arlang cared not to be where they were unwanted, and Sanshi had always been intended to be neutral territory. The dominance of the great families of Sanshi was contrary to its foundational ideals. Sen doubted that the other families, such as Jagar, Nisei, and Dasan, would be so quick to relinquish control. Fenhu, undoubtedly, would find a place within the new order. They always did: where there was art and coin, there was Fenhu.
Then: the first signs of the monster surge.
The council debated whether to begin surge preparations. It could take anywhere from 3 months to 2 years at the most extreme before the surge began in full after the sightings of surge precursors. The council would send out their routine notices, warning outlying cities and villages for increased manifestations in population areas, and increased vigilance of dissenters, who often struck during surge peaks and surge preparations, where the attention of adventurers and officials were spread wide.
Businesses and operations would enter their pre-surge stage, where they lowered productivity for increased watchfulness and reduced operating area. At least, the good workplaces would, the shady businesses would operate as they pleased, although approved pre-surge and surge guidelines were necessary to start a business, and business licenses could be removed if they were found violating them.
Lesser matters were then discussed—the problem of poachers, likely to increase in the pre-surge state. The continued holding pattern over the interference of the church of undeath against the towers of black ice. Various towns and villages that were experiencing increased growth and would be allocated increased resources to advance them post-surge. A gold rank monster had been spotted far north, thankfully away from any population centers, and a gold rank team would be dispatched to defeat it.
*****
She had tried to slip out of the meeting room discretely when a gentle but insistent tug of aura forced her to turn her head. Tyranel leaned over her chair, finger beckoning, like a naughty saleswoman from hell.
Nara really didn’t want to have to deal with a diamond ranker, not that she unduly feared them. They were still people, for all the power they possessed, and Tyranel had a good reputation of wise leadership with her whimsical quirks. It many ways, Nara feared them less than fearing the rich and corporations of Earth, who could overturn governments, fund insurgents, use child and slave labor, poison cultures, all in pursuit of profit, that abstract god of theirs with fewer moral directives than Destruction himself. Death at the hands of a diamond ranker would be a quick mercy. Economy understood that business was a balance, one the rich failed to grasp, taking and taking from the supports and foundation of the building that supported society until there was nothing left to take, a crumbling end as everything fell to ruin.
The increased lifespan of society’s most powerful did foster some perspective.
“Your Majesty,” Nara reluctantly greeted. “Have you need of me?”
Whatever Tyranel did with her aura removed Nara from the consideration of the gold and silver rankers around, and Nara was grateful for it. In their minds, she had managed to slip out. With Balance, Ice, and Echo for the Refracting Confluence, Tyranel was known for her ability to slip by undetected. Although known was perhaps inaccurate; after all, no one found Tyranel if she did not want to be found. It was her gold rank reputation of centuries past that shed any light on her capabilities: various illusion oriented awakening stones had inclined her towards transformation, unlike and like Eufemia.
“I’ve taken a look through your Adventure Society records—” She waved a dismissing hand, anticipating the objections Nara wouldn’t have voiced anyway, “—They’re supposed to be sealed, I know. But you have a soul-bonded vehicle, do you not?”
She nodded. Well, not much Nara could do. In any world, the laws didn’t apply to the powerful.
“I wonder, have you grown…weary of your unending search of the mausoleum? Perhaps you’d be willing to make a trade? You have no need for more equipment. I have something else that may tickle your interest.” She wiggled her fingers, as if to tickle Nara. Nara prayed she would not. If being tickled by a diamond ranker didn’t directly kill her, the shame of the situation might.
“I suppose I could overlook the invasion of privacy if I’m getting something out of it.”
Tyranel grinned, not minding the cheek.
“Now—”
We’re doing this here? Nara despaired.
—Tyranel opened her cape and reached in, removing an item from it like some sort of shady alleyway drug dealer and not an esteemed Queen of a nation.
It was a token, usurpingly, as it seemed the most convenient form for items to take whose form held no inherent purpose.
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Item: [Forge of the Divine Chariot] (unranked, legendary)
Classification: Consumable
Description: To forge the seat of the gods.
Requirements: Transcendent rank or growth-type vehicle or construct intrinsically connected to an entity with a spirit domain.
Effect: Converts the interior of the vehicle or constructed into an extension of the connected entity’s spirit domain.
Uses remaining: 1/1
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“Er, Chrome,” she asked telepathically. “I don’t actually have a spirit domain. Would this even work??”
“This…this is beyond even me,” Chrome admitted. “I had not heard of an Astral Domain before you, but it shares many of the characteristics of a Spirit Domain, except that it exists not in reality. All effects of your Astral Domain have been temporary, unlike a Spirit Domain, an enduring claim upon reality. It is not quite the same…but your Nebula Flask shares much the same aspects of impermanence, and it is still not a claim upon reality, not in the same way a Spirit Domain would be.
“There is potential for great gain here. I know you dislike the observation of the gods—this would be an extension of your ability to shield yourself, and now your allies and your home, from their gaze. In ways your Astral Domain is not, this would not require your presence nor your concentration. Tyranel is right: You have no desperate need for additional equipment. Your armor is conjured, and your weapon is bonded.”
“And if you were a betting man, Chrome?”
She could sense the furrow of his brow, the narrowing calculation of his eyes, the way he steepled his fingers, as if the answer would weave itself through their gaps. She felt his sincerity, the way, as her familiar and companion, that he reasoned whether this exchange would be to her greatest benefit or not.
The pause was lengthy, and Tyranel was kind enough to wait, sitting now on the table of the meeting room, legs swinging. Nara’s answer, after all, would expose whether she possessed this capability at all. It wouldn’t have been in her Adventure Society records, and Tyranel would draw her own conclusions.
Finally, Chrome breathed his answer, slow and sure in the way all his advice was to Nara.
“I’d bet yes.”
*****
“One more thing,” Tyranel said, interrupting Nara who once again, tried to slip away after their exchange. The little sprout glared at her balefully, before trying to school her face into something more appropriately neutral. Ah, this one would never be a politician. Great aura control for her rank, but she always assumed no one was watching her face. “I need a diamond spirit coin.”
“What?” Nara reflexively protested. “Aren’t you rich? You’re a Queen.” She narrowed her eyes. “What could you possibly need it for? Don’t you have your own?”
Tyranel bit back a grin at her outrage. Ahhh~ she just loved to mess with the little ones, although that was not her purpose this time. “I promise it’ll be paid back~ Come on~ Just give it to me~” she needled instead, opting to be as infuriating as possible.
Her eyes bugged out a bit in disbelief. Rubbing the space between her eyes, she hefted one over, the weight more of its value than actual mass. She looked at her as if The Queen of Kallid was some common highway robber, demanding diamond spirit coins from unsuspecting bronze rankers with force.
“I’m charging interest,” the adventurer warned, about as threatening as a teething puppy. Tyranel wanted to mess up her hair and pinch her cheeks.
She handed the coin over, then couldn’t leave quickly enough, escaping before Tyranel could demand anything more from her. Tyranel heard her muttering out the door, in disbelief about what diamond ranker could possibly want the paltry wealth of a bronze ranker.
Ah, she had no reason at all to need her wealth, but it was symbolic that she paid for herself, even if the revival would be paid by the Church of Knowledge. Although…now that Tyranel took a closer look, this was a unique spirit coin! One of those looted with a personal power!
It was Nara’s side profile, a black gem upon her ear, flowering trees wreathed around her, and the words “The Astral Traveler: Greetings from Afar” embossed around the coin’s circumference. A rather ordinary design lacking artistry, compared to Sanshi’s triple mountain triple river coinage, Atisalhaya’s oasis, or Dammerus’ design of intricate historical architecture, but it was unique. A collector’s item. Shame it’d have to be used.
…Although she could swap it out with another. Hmm, she did like her collections.