*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
The author tapped his foot impatiently. Calling over the phone seemed like a mockery, too mundane a thing for the matters at hand. Yet, by phone it was.
"Yeees?"
"Ah!" He sprung up. "I'm having trouble with a world I've purchased, I-"
"Who is this please?"
"Right. My name is-"
"Customer number please?"
"Uhm... number three..." he quickly rummaged through his mess of receipts. "Three... eight-eight."
"Number three-eight-eight?"
"Yes, that's right."
He could hear whispering in a foreign language on the other side. It could have been Japanese, but it could have been something else.
"Why you call?"
"I'm calling because something unexpected has been happening with the world you send me."
"Un- what? You break the world?"
"No, no I didn't break it. I just- I..."
"You waste my time. World is not a video game, does not break. Visitors can change the world, that is your responsibility."
"Yes, YES. That's what I'm saying. Because I have been sending visitors, and it has worked the same for years. Every time someone from our world is born there, the future changes. I've been writing down the futures, it's... it's for my job."
"Yes? So?"
"So... okay. Here's the deal. The future of the world has been changing even when I don't do anything. There's this evil empire that crops up, and then demi-gods that nearly destroy the world. It wasn't like that at first. I think... I think someone other than me is sending visitors to the world of Lite. Is that possible?"
"You wait."
"What?"
"You wait I get someone."
After the rude service worker had said that, it began silent at the other end. There was only the slight static of the telephone.
-
A minute went by, then seven, and the author didn't dare put down his cell.
Finally, there came a voice from the other end. "Well wishes to you dear customer," it said in a buzzy, almost inhuman tone. "You have a complaint over our product?"
"No no, that's not it. I just... I wanted some help."
"If there is anything I can be of service to, to the right honorable gentleman, I would be most delighted. Most delighted."
The new voice was more polite, but uncanny as well. He couldn't really make out its emotions.
"Well, you see. It's this world-"
"Customer 388, the world of Lite. Classic Narou template. What seems to be the issue?"
"I think there's people reincarnating that I didn't put there. Is that possible, can that happen?"
"Ah, no. This can not happen. You must be mistaken." He said it with such pleasant confidence that it immediately felt silly to have ever thought otherwise.
"Oh, okay. It's just that... you know... the future has been changing."
"Do excuse me?"
"The future. I write down the lives of the visitors for my stories, and then I let the following visitors change that story. But this time their lives changed a few times before I put in anyone new."
It was quiet for a bit again. "...The time dilation is how much? .... Honorable customer?"
"Uhm... 3 minutes here is 2 weeks on the world of Lite, so... that's... 20 times..."
"Seven-thousand. Yes, that is correct. Then it must be the self-same orb... excuse me for one second if you please."
"Of course."
-
Another aggravating minute of silence before a third employee picked up the phone.
"You're the one that's letting others mess around with his world?"
He was stunned for a moment. The third voice had even more static in it than the last. No, not static, the voice itself was formed by buzzing. As if he were being helped by a bee hive, and the collective zooming of the insects just happened to come together in sounds that could be interpreted as words. It felt... ominous somehow.
"Hello!?"
"Hi, yes." He quickly responded, shaking out of the wild imagination. "I mean no. I... someone is reincarnating people into my world. I don't know who."
"You have a contract, only you may touch the orb, only you may change the world. You must keep it out of reach for all of humanity."
"I ha- Sire, I can assure you, I've followed the instructions. Nobody else has used the orb. My friends would know."
"...Friends?"
"Oh. It's not what you think, they're dead. My friends are dead. I made them gods in the world of Lite, so they'd know if someone... you know... reached their hands through the celestial realm."
"With the orb, the world of Lite is as if a fiction to your own world. You may lift up the power of those reincarnated to arbitrary heights. Create gods from nothing. Without the orb, this is impossible."
"Okay?"
"Keep the orb away from others. Then reincarnation can not destroy the world of Lite."
"Yes, sir."
"Now keep heed. And remember that the world of Lite is not a toy. You hold the lives of generations of people in your hands."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up more worried than he had started. The three men had offered no solution to his problem and in fact only alarmed him to a bigger threat.
He tapped the glass of the orb, watching the completely flat world and its satellites spin in the emptiness within. 'Like a work of fiction' indeed.
If the helpline was correct, whoever was putting people in there couldn't lift them up freely like he could. So they couldn't be as powerful.
But that didn't solve his writing problem.
And anyway, he had the ominous feeling that it wasn't true.
-
He decided to sleep on it another night.
That same time the next day, the world of Lite was twenty years older.
----------------------------------------
Twenty years the Reddington crown had been fighting the eternal enemy, the lord of evil.
Armies clashed, bandit adventurers fought against noble-born knights, and the enemy staged countless schemes. But for a few years now, they had settled in a bloody impasse.
They lower nobility threw their blood against the outer walls to protect the border, and the higher nobility had the freedom to distract themselves with court intrigue.
-
"The seal around your neck is a curse of truth-telling. Tell another lie, and you will be shocked by elemental lightning."
The accused stood wide-legged in her shackles, forgetting all dignity of her station. Grinding her teeth, shaking her hair, and making wide-eyed threats towards attendees.
The eldest princess of Reddington was called the whore of the capitol behind closed doors. Never was she seen without a bucket's worth of make-up. Wide smeared lipstick, inky black mascara, and
the rest foundation. If there were still prostitutes in the territories controlled by the crown, they wouldn't have looked all that different.
After today, no doubt, people would be less shy with it. Perhaps even call her whore to her face.
If it were true that she had falsely accused the violet hero.
The looked down past her nose at her. She could barely make out her expression, so high was the throne.
The princess was all alone, way down on the throne room tiles, while all those attending were up on their platforms, looking down, already passing judgment.
Up there was also the violet hero, Yamamoto, clung to by his many girlfriends. He looked for eye contact, but she avoided his gaze.
"Melina Reddington." The queen said. "Will you finally commit yourself to the truth, or will you continue to lie?"
"I've never lied!" She yelled.
*Bzzzt*
She buckled at the sudden pain tensing her muscles. Before she could right herself she flicked up her eyes to stare daggers at the ice cold queen of the fire kingdom.
"I see that the curse works." She said dryly. "Now then, princess. The hero has had to endure many inequities under your accusation of kidnapping and rape. Both by the law in my absence, and by the irreparable damage to his reputation. Under pain of the truth-telling curse, tell us again, has this man taken advantage of you?"
The princess looked around at the nobility. This was entertainment to them, not two weeks ago they had had just as eager sadistic expressions participating in her ostracization of the hero. "Is my word not enough?"
"Answer the question. If you do not, you will be considered to have lied."
"You're my mother! You should be on my side! On my side!"
The queen slammed her fists on the armrests of the towering throne. "You are a liar and a disgrace to the royal family. I disown you! One more chance. Has this man ever, I mean ever committed any of the various atrocities you've alleged him to?"
Melina resolutely turned her head away. "I refuse to participate in this. I should not have to prove myself in this farce."
"Then you have proven yourself guilty. I would have you thrown in the deepest hole to be forgotten about, but as always, the victim is allowed to demand mercy for the sake of the perpetrator."
Yamamoto nodded sagely. "Your majesty, I do not wish for anybody to be treated cruelly in my name. I simply wish for my name to be cleared and for all to know this woman and her lies hold no credibility. I merely propose you take away the titles and honor from her name, and let all in the kingdom know what she is. A cunt."
The queen nodded as if it were a completely reasonable request. "Most gracious of you, hero." She raised her voice, "the princess Melina shall be stripped of her nobility and shall henceforth be known as 'Cunt'. None may call her by another name, on punishment of death."
It was an unconventional decision, but one that had the vengeful gossipers of the royal court roarous with excitement. Already they were hurling abuses at her head with her new legal name.
The queen bade them to be silent. "Now I will have this peasant removed from my castle and thrown to the streets. Any parting statement, Cunt?"
The heavy mascara drooped over her cheeks and her shame burned red through the many layers of paint. She pouted. "Mommy... I love you..."
*Bzzzt*
The curse necked her and she fell over to the laughter of the crowd.
"Get her out of here." The queen said, her cape billowing behind her as she left the throne room.
-
The disgraced princess was dragged roughly out of the palace and thrown into the gutter.
He painted face now smeared out and covered in mud and horseshit. She hissed angrily at the passerby's giving her weird looks.
"Elder sister, elder sister."
Melina closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as if she'd been stabbed.
The voice came from the crown princess of Reddington.
"Elder sister, your pride may be shaken, but you should not run off into back alleys to live destitute." She said.
The girl was eight and had had the title of heir to the crown transferred to her since she was six. Ever since she had learned to speak, she had only spoken condescendingly towards her elder sister.
"I've had some of your belongings retrieved from your quarters. Now I want you to be careful with them, they're the only property you have left." One of the princess' attendants presented a tray with her comb and make-up box.
There was none of the expensive jewelry the former eldest princess had filled her room with, that might have been sold for some starting capital.
"I know things seem bleak now," the younger sister said, "but really this is a chance for you to start over, and learn from your mistakes."
Melina stroked and picked up her golden comb. It wasn't valuable, but the young princess had chosen what she must have thought was of emotional value to her sister.
"My friend from the duchy of Linefort is looking for a new maid. And I have convinced him to let you interview for the position." She went on. "I hope you will not waste this opportunity,-"
"Like I'd be-"
"Cunt."
The crown princess' personal attendants were highly trained and were able to deflect the comb as it came flying at her. So that it drove a hole into the palace outer wall.
"Princess, this person is dangerous." One shielded her with his body.
"Please let me get rid of her for you." The other said, coming in with a wide hook punch.
Melina punched him in the chest so that he went flying backwards and the princess was already being ushered back into the gates, tutting.
"She always was a troublemaker."
"Go rot!" She yelled after her younger sister. "Go sink into a hole and die!"
----------------------------------------
The higher nobility of Reddington had expected to see the former princess around the capitol as a beggar. But they never did.
Rumor began to circulate that she'd taken her own life, or let herself be consumed by some beast of the wild.
Neither was true.
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh, I realize
It's hard to take courage~
Scratch sang gently as he soaked the cleaning rag in soapy water.
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small.
"I don't know why she would choose my side, she never has." Melina said drearily.
"Perhaps it's for the best." Lydia said. "Now that you have nothing to lose, you can finally be with us and see the world."
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Your true colors~
As Scratch's wiped away the filth and tears and smeared make-up, for the first time in many years, the color of her skin was bared to another.
Bone white. With a thin black line running vertical over each eye, and two sawn-off horns at the far sides of her forehead.
She looked at her feet in embarrassment. "I have to go to the land of the goblins now?"
"Young lady, we're your godparents after all." Scratch said. "You're just as much from me as you're from either king or queen, and those horns prove it."
The couple looked like they were in their fifties, but had kept a certain youthfulness from active lifestyle. Graying hair, lines near the eyes, and battle-scarred. The only difference was that she was a woman and he was a small, green-skinned day goblin.
"I've already prepared your room. You have a lot of brothers and sisters to be introduced to, Rita." Lydia said.
Melina nodded, it was suddenly becoming alarmingly real.
Scratch handed her the rag and moved the tub of water. "In all those years at the capitol, have I ever rejected a wish of yours? Be it magic, wealth, or violence, I told you...-"
"'Just whisper into a one dollar bill, I'm always listening.'" She laughed. Of course it was Papa Scratch, the same fun uncle that had send her those magic beans to prank her maids with, that had arranged for her academy rival to be beat up, the same fun uncle that would make it snow so she wouldn't have to go shake hands with peasants.
"Let's get cleaned up," Lydia said, "we have a whole tour planned out."
-
The hot-springs were a bit out of the way of the monorail station. It was a resort of sorts, although Scratch described it as a 'fly trap'.
It was a half-hour trek towards the transit and then five flights of stairs up to get to the platform, but once there the sandy forest road they'd taken was splayed out clearly below them.
Melina breathed in the fresh air. There was no bustle of the city that she'd gotten used to her whole life, no stink of horses and-"
She coughed at the sudden exhaust fumes filling her lungs as the forest tranquility was broken by the banging and plodding of the monorail.
The long, segmented metal slug came to a halt approximately in front of the boarding platform and a goblin leaned out the machinist's window, waving his hat. "Heya! Papa Scratch! Miss Lydia. Can I take you to the end of the rail?"
"It would be our pleasure, Nug." Lydia said sweetly. "Come, Rita. Step in."
"On that thing?"
"It's perfectly safe, come on."
-
With some squealing and clanging the monorail picked up a decent page coasting over the treetops. All-in-all, it was no more bumpy than a peasant coach.
What it did have were glass windows, showing the passengers the skyline of the Promise. Great smokestacks for industry and imposing rectangular mega-structures to house countless goblins.
Forest paths such as the one surrounding the hot-spring were merely splotches of green in a vast and endless urban sprawl.
It was so much larger than the capitol.
Melina stood amazed against the glass.
"That's the alchemical plant," Lydia said, as they passed an intricate edifice of pipes and tankers. "That's where ReGen is produced and canned."
"ReGen...? It's the monster nation that creates our healing potions?"
"Of course," Lydia laughed, "the monarchy can't produce aluminum, now can they?"
"...I wouldn't know."
"The monarchy has long since lost autarchy," Scratch sat with his feet up on one of the benches, his eyes closed to the busy vista outside, "we've pursued economic interdependence as a matter of policy. The alchemical plant is also where we produce Crimson. Much the same principle."
"Anyway..." Lydia drawled, getting away from the topic, "look at that, that's the adventurers' guild hall. They had a new one build just two years ago. Isn't it huge?"
"This whole city is huge."
"And then you're only seeing half of it."
"...What do you mean?"
----------------------------------------
As Lydia had said, there were a lot of siblings to be introduced to. A few hundred, in fact.
Hobgoblins lived mostly underground. The dungeon underneath the metropolis' sewers was the city's equal and inverse, tunneling deep into the earth. It contained the troll garden, a lush paradise of subhuman species.
As it were the season for it, a few of the girls made a flower crown for her.
They showed her her room, the dragon pit, and the archery range.
They had a campfire, and a roast, and Melina got to tell her life story, being the center of attention.
Throughout all of this, they kept calling her by the name 'Rita', as Scratch had always done.
In the ever constant light of the underworld, it was easy to lose track of day and night, but after a few parties and two naps, the sun would have had to have made at least one full rotation around the Earth.
Looking around for her godparents, she ascended back up into the caverns of the underground trading hall.
-
After some directions from the place's caretakers, she found herself in a redbrick room, almost a castle hall, with a large mirror at the end.
She looked into it and, as is typical for mirrors, saw her reflection. The same inhumanly colored monster that she saw in the mirror every day. But this time, there was no reason to cover it up.
"That's our magic mirror." Someone said, startling her. It was a hobgoblin, leaning against the doorpost. "There's a demon in there, don't get too close."
She scoffed at the notion, but turning back to the mirror it seemed half a second too late to match her expression.
She backed away.
"This is the devil altar," the hobgoblin said, "are you looking for papa?"
"Don't talk so familiarly to me, I'm a princess. I just... I want to get an idea what this place is."
"...It's a devil altar."
"Well no, I was referring to the entire dungeon."
"Oh... it's a dungeon."
She tapped her foot impatiently. "What is it you do here exactly? What's your name, anyway?"
He stuck out his arm. "I'm Haerwynn, and I already know your name, it's Rita."
She didn't shake it. "It's Melina actually."
"Is it still?"
The question annoyed her. Because the answer was 'no,' technically speaking it had been changed, but not to Rita, and not in any way she was willing to discuss.
Haerwynn pointed at the mirror. "I'm chief assistant manager of devils, 'cause I've learned all the true names. If you know someone's true name, you can do sympathetic magic on them. Watch."
He muttered something complicated under his breath and a spellform coasted towards the glass, as soon as it hit, it fogged up.
"Bregornatis, show me Ada of the Promise." He declared.
The spirit of the mirror obeyed and soon they were looking at an older hobgoblin woman sitting behind an oversized desk in a librarious study as if she was right across from them.
She put down her fountain pen and looked up. "Haerwynn, I told you not to scry on me. I'm busy."
"Sorry prime minister, I just wanted to show Rita our devil mirror."
"Oooh, Rita~." She clasped her hands and leaned forwards. She didn't look directly at her, some magic in her eyes letting her view the other side of the transmission from another angle. "Our golden child. Are you having fun out in the real world?"
"She wandered off." Haerwynn said.
"Adventurous! I remember when you were a baby. Papa says you're partly his, but I say you take after me. You still have to be baptized before you can start the job, though."
Melina had wanted to give a dry remark, but she was surprised to hear mention of a job. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to her that the lord of evil would want to recruit the daughter of his arch enemy to help destroy Reddington once and for all. It seemed rather naive all of a sudden.
"Sympathetic magic links a person to anything that's based on them. Like their name being said, being written down, but even more if there's a depiction of them." Haerwynn prattled on. "Papa was able to talk to you all those years using this mirror, because his face is printed on all the one dollar bills."
"Haerwynn," Ada said more seriously, "turn off this thing and take Rita back to the garden. I'm just finishing up here, I'll be down tomorrow."
----------------------------------------
The job remained ambiguous for the next few days. Even Ada, who seemed to have authority within the Promise, was discreet with the information.
Instead, she received a new wardrobe and a personal windwolf, gifts to fill her day and occupy her mind.
On the fifth day she was baptized.
Losing the blessing of Benesant had been a painful memory, when her baby sister was given her inheritance right, but now she received the blessings of five gods on one day.
Scratch was there, at the proceedings.
-
"Papa Scratch," Melina finally unstuck herself from the jubilee to approach him.
"Rita. How do you like your gifts?"
She blinked a few times. "I'll have to get used to the sight. There's... lines all over."
"And the room?"
"I love my room, but-"
"What about your new partner?"
"They're all lovely, papa. Everything is lovely. But I begin to worry about the price."
"I've never charged you for my gifts before?"
"Then I worry I've run up a debt. Regarding the twenty years war..."
Scratch squinted at her for a moment, trying to sus her out, then he resolved something and clasped his hands. "Very nice. You've got good instincts. No reason to put this off, I suppose." He hailed
Ada. "Ada, can you send us up?"
The older hobgoblin waded through the crowd. "Up? Up where?"
"All the way up."
She shrugged and took a pistol from her belt.
She placed one out of a collection of cartridges into the devices and pointed it at the two of them.
Before Melina could protest, they were enveloped in a bright light. The Warp spell.
----------------------------------------
The mote of light that carried exile and her godfather shot up through the dungeon.
Up past the warping circle in the trading hall.
Up out of the basement and past the surface warping circle near the adventurers' guildhouse.
Up and up through the atmosphere onto a floating island above the sky.
There was a third warping circle, laid out in meticulous mosaic on the courtyard of a spindly tower.
Stumbling out of the unexpected warp, Melina grabbed a railing, but quickly fell backwards after looking down.
The world was like a travel-sized map, so small was it. The city and sea and forest were like splotches of indistinct color, only the truly large landmarks like the alchemical plant and the guildhall could be made out.
She looked back at Scratch and saw the tower, more tall than broad but all arches and flying buttresses. "Can you warn me!? What is this place?"
"Let's get inside first. I always forget how thin the air is up here."
-
Inside was a grand hall of granite and brass.
She had only just received the witch-sight, but the green lines of mana constructs were everywhere. There were moving magical contraptions and curses swimming through the air.
Young adults in black robes littered the space, getting from place to place by themselves or in cliques, carrying books and chatting up a storm.
"Who are these people? Dark sorcerers?"
One of the robed figures broke away from his group and approached the goblin. He was barely taller than him and, on closer inspection, it was a young boy underneath the cowl. "Papa Scratch, zhe magus from Linefort is a fraud. He does not know zhe first zhing about spellcraft, how could you give him a teaching position? Our credibility to zhe great houses-"
"Calm down Fleder. It's fine. Class 1E are all accomplished sorcerers that have entered the academy by hiding their abilities."
"Vhat? Vhy?"
"I don't know, but it seems to be a trend so I put them together. Pair them up, make them waste each other's time. Ah, have you met Rita?"
The boy looked her up and down. "Has it really been so long? Pleasure to meet you, Rita, I look forward to having you in my class."
"Noss Fleder teaches dungeoncraft, which is a third year elective, but perhaps..." Scratch said.
"I'm- You want me to enroll in a magic school?" Melina asked.
"We do, yes."
"Why?"
He beckoned her to follow him, leaving Fleder behind. "What have you been told about the twenty years war?"
They ascended the stairs through the austere marble halls. "The four realms have been fighting the trai- your armies ever since I've been alive. The realms have the true faith and the descendants of heroes on their side, the opposition has bandits and monsters. Uh, that's it."
"That's it?"
She became distracted by the splendor of magic the flowed past them. Rolling stairs, moving paintings, and fairies all around. Even an enormous fairy queen crossed their path heading to another section of the building. "Well what else is there?" she said, transfixed, "we've fought to a standstill and neither side has made progress in half a decade."
"Not quite, come inside." He opened a little door that was just his size but she had to bend over considerably to get through.
They entered a cosy office, with maps on the wall, a carpeted floor, and a heavy wooden desk that held and astrolabe. Like the tower as a whole, it was a lot taller than it was wide, and the higher walls contained a whole new set of charts and diagrams.
Scratch heaved himself up the large wooden desk, and it was much to large for him to ever use for its intended purpose.
He sat down and dangled his legs over the edge. "I don't know if the visuals help, but the four realms are not all on the same side and neither are all the bandits. The territory controlled by your mother today is about a fifth of what it was when you were born. It's not that we couldn't take it over if we wanted it, it's just that there's not much more to take."
The world map did show that. Much of what Melina had learned was their territory was marked as disputed, and the four realms were depicted as small colored splotches in a world ruled by monstrous factions.
She leaned on one hip. "You're sending your troops to die just for fun, then?"
"Well the constant warfare keeps the god of war happy, so yes. Really, we just wanted the peasantry on our side."
Melina had been staring at the dizzying sky of maps, but that comment pulled her back down. "The capitol is bleeding workmen," she said.
"The countryside is much worse off, addiction and destitution on one side, economic opportunity on the other, it's not a hard choice. Most of those 'bandit cities' your mother fights were just existing townships that switched sides."
She hesitated before speaking. The lord of evil had gone through great lengths to save the princess of Reddington and buy her loyalty, but now he was telling her Reddington was worthless to him.
"You get around with a monorail, or somebody else's magic. You need a devil altar to cast magic. And you lack all strength. What power do you have that could subjugate the entire world?"
"There's no such thing as power, in my view. There's only leverage. Currently, what I have over your mother is a pegged currency and food exports. That's all the power I need to prevent her from starting any major offensive. No, Rita, we haven't been fighting the monarchies for twenty years, we've been fighting the faith."
A tall and thin door in the back of the office opened up- this was the proper entrance- and a tall humanoid skeleton sporting a cow's skull stood in the doorway, startling her.
"Scratch. You're on my desk again."
"The man of the hour," Scratch spun around, "I was just telling Rita about our plan to kill Benesant."
The lich paused. If he had been a living being, he would have sighed.
"This is Ritter," Scratch told her, "he's the headmaster and minister of education."
"You will hear of many bearing ministerial titles while you're here, these are meaningless. I am a sorcerer." Ritter took a seat at his desk. "He might appoint you minister of god slaying next."
Melina looked back and forth between the two of them. "You must be joking, you can't kill a god."
Ritter looked at Scratch, but Scratch gestured for him to continue. "My dear girl, these lands were ones littered with lesser gods. Kishin, we called them. It was the Harkness dynasty that trapped and devoured them. Now the only kishin that remain are the house spirits of this academy."
"Sometimes, leverage takes the form of one good lie." Scratch said. "Once a god enters the physical realm, they can be killed. Most of the world worships are false image of Benesant now, but we can not root it out completely. That's why I commissioned the spire in Blurich, it is made out of wyrm shards and contains a vessel for her body."
There was a diagram for that, but it was bizarre. The great monument had been part of the skyline for years, iconic and a symbol of the universality of the faith. The parchment showed an endlessly long serpent body hidden within.
"The problem is, once we get her down here, how do we kill her? There's no larger god to absorb her, and none our weapons seem big enough."
"The original wyrm, Malsidious, was killed and shattered into pieces by the first hero, a person of unmatched power."
Melina blew up her cheeks. "You're having a laugh, really you must be. Kill a god-dragon? If you're recruiting me for that you can forget it, I've never even picked up a weapon."
They looked at each other.
"That level of strength should not be beyond you. The royal bloodline is bred only from world-saving heroes. Subhumans do not have many special abilities, but they have the power of fully realized potential. Like a hobgoblin has all the strength of a highly trained peasant and an ogre matches the strongest knight, well..."
"This world is a nightmare of bizarre eugenics," Scratch said, "but even royalty can't normally do the sort of thing you casually throw out without years of training. I mean you blew up a wall throwing your comb. Hopefully the academy will help you find your limits."
She frowned. She'd always been embarrassed by her freakish nature, but now that inhumanity was what gave her value to the only allies she had left. She wasn't quite ready to be happy with it yet.
"I wouldn't send my goddaughter to her death against a dragon," Scratch sussed, "we'll draw up a strategy. But once Benesant is dead, let's see... how about the Reddington throne as a reward? You were passed over as heir, but with our support-"
"I don't want Reddington anymore." She said suddenly. "It's too small for me."
"...We'll figure something out."
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The start of a new school year wouldn't be until four months, but in the meantime, she was given free reign to travel back and forth to the tower and had had her own dorm room assigned. This gave her some time to acclimate to the way things worked in the world of the enemy. Or 'out in the real world' as Ada would have put it.
In Reddington, nobles that had sided with the goblin nation and the bandit cities in exchange for keeping control of their territory were just bandit lords. But having changed sides didn't change their nature, they were still prideful and competed for status within the new world order. That meant marrying adventurers that had gained prestige by slaying true nobles into their family, it meant building and maintaining dungeons to house magical beasts, but most of all it meant educating their children in dark sorcery.
"Until not too long ago," Ritter had explained to her, "dark sorcerers sought out personal apprentices. In exchange for sharing their knowledge, the apprentice would see to the master's worldly needs. Fighting enemies, gathering reagents, affairs of that nature. That way, the master could spend his time researching magic. But when it came to Scratch to find me a suitable apprentice, he instead devised the academy. He believed that a few teachers together could develop a great deal more students, and gain more workmen per person in exchange. I should have known it was another trick to bind lesser houses to the Promise."
"So the traitorous houses stick with the lord of evil just because it would be humiliating if their kids couldn't go to magic school?" She'd asked. "Is the whole world ruled by this sort of leverage?"
"That is how he likes to see it. I won't be the first to say that Scratch's power comes from the love and loyalty of goblin kind."
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Either way, the fellow students she was introduced to were suitably status-obsessed and satisfyingly sycophantic.
It reminded her of her youth, when the other kids would be too afraid to speak out against her due to her status. She'd lost that comfort with her diminishing reputation over time, and she was glad to have it back.
Doing battle with the goddess of light herself seemed like a steep price. But that was in the future, this was now. She'd landed on her feet.
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"For the eldest princess never to outright deny her lie while under the curse, that was good direction." Youthere said.
Haerwynn stepped away from the mirror after preparing it to give Ada the stage.
"Father insisted on it," she said, "is there some significance?"
"In the long run there could be." The demon said, from the other side of the glass, "Right now, the remaining houses are loyal to the regime, so they will follow the narrative of the trouble-maker princess lying to sabotage a hero. But if they were ever so inclined to push away from the queen... she has left open the pathway to alternative interpretations. The lie was never proven."
"Did she lie?"
"I believe so. It doesn't really matter. What matters is the narratives, and how they might influence the masses. On that front, I can report great progress here in Grienice."
Ada nodded and made as if to stand up, she wasn't fond of speaking with the incubus. "If the city is almost ready to turn to us, I'll tell mother and we'll make the preparations."
"Almost, almost. The major institutions have had their administration completely filled with ideologues. I say with no exaggeration that credibility in academic and leadership positions is wholly dependent on adherence to our narrative. Orthodoxy is indistinguishable from understanding."
"That sounds like they're ready."
"The orthodoxy is that humanity must repay a debt to demi-humans everywhere, not least to day goblins, which should one day grant a window for diluting their voting power. But not yet, there's still the underclass, members of the guilds. Though I assure you, they are not free from our meddling. If the academia represent our agenda, then all those that oppose our agenda must identify in opposition to academia itself. This way, no viable alternative can form."
"Yes, you mentioned this," she said, "it was... pseudo-intellectualism versus anti-intellectualism."
"But actual intellectualism must be stamped out, indeed. We now have the working class proudly declaring themselves monarchists, as they're labeled opposition to the republic." Youthere giggled.
"Oh, young Ada, you should see the beautiful rhetoric we spin for them, how seamlessly appeal to tradition becomes glorification of the past. Soon we will have the republicans appointing a ruler for life and monarchists protesting it!"
"I don't particularly care to see your handiwork." She huffed. "Frankly, your indoctrinated humans sicken me. Tell us when the city is ready to accept goblin rule, and try not to have too much fun in the meantime."
She gestured at Haerwynn to have the mirror turned off, and he was about to, but one of the other incubi took the word.
"Excuse me, prime minister, but we had expected to see the goblin all-father today."
He was a tall and well-shapen individual and almost made her blush.
"Ahem. Papa Scratch does not have any official duties within the ministry. If it's important I can pass on a message... If I deem it important."
"We've been separate from the all-father for two decades and... you see we are demons of temptation... we worry he has not cultivated sin to the degree that we would like."
"You see, Scratch has been manipulative and mercenary since the very beginning," Youthere clarified, "but I've always emphasized how, to become the demon king, he must also learn to take pleasure in the suffering of others. After all this time, his cruelty is still... instrumental. Once Grienice falls, I would like the opportunity to work closely with him once more."
Haerwynn looked at Ada, but she put him at ease with a slight pout and a subtle head shake.
"At this rate, lord Abyss of the west will become demon king first!" The other incubus whined, "and the temptation family would be humiliated."
"You understand that our service is enforced by contract," Youthere said darkly, "but our loyalty is bought on a promise. A promise of greater ruination." Then he cleared up. "But it's no trouble at all. To convince Benesant to enter the mortal realm, the all-father must commit an evil grave enough that she would risk her own godly existence to put a stop to it. It is inevitable in his plan! That will be our opportunity to help you all develop a taste for the work. One way or another." He leaned in and smirked. "See you soon."
The mirror fogged up as the connection was broken from the other end. Neither hobgoblin look all too pleased.
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Old World Knight
Family: Human
Threat Level: D
Reward: 2 silver bills
Adventurers traveling near the ancient lands of the monarchies, may encounter human warriors still loyal to the crown.
These warriors can be recognized by royal banners and lower grade equipment. These 'armies' are known to travel in parties of a few dozen at the minimum, and are not to be underestimated for their tactical formations.
When getting the better of old world armies, adventurers would do well to lure them towards uneven terrain, where they can not effectively link their shields.
ADDENDUM: The radical counter-revolutionary movement in the Grienice slums also identifies as monarchist and adherents are sometimes seen carrying the banners of the long dead Grienician monarchy. Until the resolution of a few pending laws, these individuals are still considered citizens and can not be killed for bounty.