In a different part of the Aryonne kingdom, more specifically in the Hull Estate, a gathering the kingdom’s powerful nobles took place in Hull manor. Lady Hull, the host for the occasion, liked to keep her enemies close when it came to her royalty succession plans. Perhaps others thought it strange if she viewed the other nobles as hostile, even if they were leagued with her in planning a royal coup d'état. None of them trusted each other and doubtlessly they viewed her in a similar light. Providence demanded they coordinate their resources to place more pressure on the palace to conform to their wishes. King Leopold was nobody’s fool and an extraordinary tactician. Catching him in a weakened position during the eastern wars remained one of the nobles most valuable boons in their plot against the throne. Allowing King Leopold a moment to recover wasn’t something they would never contemplate.
Although they didn’t broadcast it, the nobles made no attempt to hide their meeting because they did that regularly enough, but the same couldn’t be said about the meeting’s contents. Obviously, no one disclosed the meeting’s true agenda outside the walls of that meeting room if they valued keeping their heads on their necks. And if anyone entertained the idea of snitching, well then, the other nobles couldn’t be blamed for headhunting said snitch.
Strangely enough, the palace was fully aware of the noble’s hostile intention because King Leopold held enough intelligence to figure it out for himself. Even he kept his cards tight to his chest. The core of their strategy lay in keeping the king fettered in ignorance while threatening him with their aligned aristocratic front. Keeping their front intact, however, proved to be a challenging task for her.
Lady Hull watched the two other nobles sitting uncomfortably around the table in her meeting room, it was perfectly obvious no one touched the food laid in front of them for fear of poisoning. They knew she would never do something so heinous in front of them, but all of them suddenly feigned spurious ailments saying that they were either suffering indigestion, or their personal physicians had them on strictly restricted diets. Judging by Lord Talus’ copious midriff, Lady Hull would say his physician failed miserably.
She only acknowledged Lord Berelli as nearing her equal. She wouldn’t take him lightly because the Berelli Estate controlled the largest source of wealth in the kingdom. By some unfortunate twist of geological fate, his estate contained most of the gold mines in the kingdom, an unlucky situation for her, but something she learned to live with. Eventually, when her estate ruled the kingdom, stripping those worthless nobles of their authority would one day be a pleasure for her. She considered the nobles nothing more than willing puppets doing her bidding, even her grandson became a means to an end. When her grandson finally married the princess, Lady Hull would finally hold the power behind the throne since power transferred to the nearest relative male. King Leopold lacked a male heir and consequently Lady Hull’s grandson would win the crown by default. With most of the kingdom’s generals behind her, the king couldn’t leave the palace without her permission. Reminding herself of that little future fate made her happy.
Ever since her mother stole her inheritance, she swore no one would take any joyful feelings from her. That theft nearly robbed her of the opportunity to take the throne and as a result she had to blackmail the bloody Kusians to supply her with military troops. To fund her plans, she needed to reduce herself to begging Lord Berelli like his lap dog. At that moment she could see him sitting there brewing in silence, as if plotting his own plans for her.
She could easily read him because he was a man of principle, and he placed his family first, at any cost. Whatever he did, family was his focus. If she appealed to improving Lord Berelli’s family situation, he would willingly comply with her plans. With his elbows propped up on the chair’s armrest, his hands formed a steeple as his left fingers touched the corresponding right ones. He looked like someone praying, although in his case it would probably be to a god of money, she laughed to herself. The thought infuriated her for some reason. Perhaps because she was an atheist that abhorred the idea of a god that could punish her, as if not believing in a god could somehow make it disappear. Out of spite she decided to cut Lord Berelli’s prayer short.
“Thank you for coming at such short notice, Lord Berelli. Can you confirm the counterfeit gold project is continuing as planned?”
“Everything is progressing on target. We had a small hiccup when the palace discovered the counterfeit gold in the bandit’s hideout, it almost derailed our plan.”
Lady Hull’s eyebrow lifted in masked anger.
“How are you still on target then?”
It was a good question, but the answer was far from what they were expecting.
“We had the good fortune of finding someone high up in the palace whose plans aligned with ours, and is now working with us, frustrating the Palace’s investigations. By the time they figure things out, the kingdom will no longer be theirs.”
Nor yours Lady Hull if I can help it, Lord Berelli thought quietly to himself.
“And who would that mole be?”
That she had the gall to ask him that was typical of Lady Hull he thought.
“I’m sorry Lady Hull, it took a lot of effort, persuasion and gold to buy that person. Now, you wouldn’t expect me to be as hasty as to divulge my greatest asset now, would you?”
She sighed, deciding to ignore his question because ultimately it didn’t matter to her, so she moved on to the next topic.
“As for the incursion against the merchant routes; we’ve completed the delivery of the weapons Malek requested and the attacks against the merchants will continue. Soon we’ll be shifting to the next phase of our plan to accelerate the production of counterfeit gold. In another development the Kusian, Thanacian and Entwine kingdoms have formed an Eastern Alliance. They’ve decided to invade Aryonne in the next spring.”
That information rocked the other nobles. They understood that Lady Hull would entice the eastern kingdom of Entwine to attack Aryonne again, but that two other kingdoms decided joining that endeavour was totally unexpected. If Lord Berelli and Lord Talus were taking Lady Hull at face value, the illusion evaporated with her words. Whatever power she wielded to convince three kingdoms to involve themselves in a war terrified the men. Neither of them entertained the idea for one moment that she was capable of something that large and for the first time they feared her.
“Just what did you offer them to form the alliance, Lady Hull? They certainly didn’t strike me as charity groups begging for scraps.”
Lord Berelli was alluding to the fact that recruiting nations to enter a war cost a lot of money. Lady Hull might have been wealthy, but not that wealthy. She must’ve had some enormous leverage. She smiled at Lord Berelli, so typical of him to ask the financial question, it was close to pathetic. Lord Berelli knew Lady Hull well enough to know she never smiled, which concerned him. She long ago forgotten what true unfettered happiness was because of regular physical and emotional beatings by an overbearing father figure when she was young. His exploits in politics were known beyond the kingdom’s boundaries to the point that other nations feared him. It was her father, tired of catering to royal whims and saddled with an insatiable thirst for power, who first planted in her the idea of taking the throne.
“Why Lord Berelli, it was far easier than you imagine. I simply offered yours and Lord Talus’ estates to them.”
She said that with such a poker face, none of them flinched for a few seconds until Lord Talus started laughing.
“Ha, ha, ha. Lady Hull you’re so funny.”
“Of course.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She smiled as only an evil woman could. She considered Lord Talus a buffoon faced idiot. Being the weakest of the nobles, his lands in the east and northeast of Aryonne would be the first to fall to her hand when she was in power. Lord Berelli however, remained troubled because he knew Lady Hull well enough to understand she wasn’t joking, that cold thing she called a soul was incapable of honest humour. Come to think about it, he couldn’t recall her ever laughing pleasantly. He would be mortified if she suddenly did because he wouldn’t know how to handle her. As for her so-called joke, it was actually a cunning idea, something he would have liked to dream up if he had the means. Nonetheless, if she thought he was going to roll over like a puppy and play dead for her, she was sorely mistaken. If it was possible for him to arrange for the queen’s disappearance, then Lady Hull’s disappearance would scarcely amount to a challenge. Lord Berelli bided his time, patience was his strongest attribute.
My time at the encampment was nearing an end in three days. Since the last incident there had been no monster activity and life had pretty much gone back to usual, attributed to the unannounced introduction of a group of seven avid adventurers, sent by the mayor from Obon and turning up at camp about a week before. Although the supervisor was happy to see the adventurers, the unplanned timing threw camp logistics awry for a few days. Two adventurers joined me in my tent and threw my nights of unfettered experimentation away. It wasn’t a total disaster since I could test if my secretive skill practicing bore fruit. It seemed my late-night training worked since none of the adventurers were the wiser of my experimentation activities.
Their sudden appearance also allowed me an opportunity to see real-life adventurers in the field. The idea of becoming an adventurer appealed to me, although I knew little of what their work entailed. They tended to stay to themselves, keeping together in their team during mealtimes and only at night did I have the two companions with me. Even then they didn’t speak much to me other than the expected courtesies.
It became challenging for me to find a chance to ask them questions I was burning to ask. Realising that I was about to miss an excellent opportunity, and at the old man’s irritation, I desperately offered to sharpen and fix the adventurer’s weapons for free. An offer they didn’t hesitate to snap up as I later discovered weapon repairs were a large cost to adventurers. With my new skills and the old man’s guidance, I repaired their weapons to a degree they never expected from a remote woodcutter’s lumber camp. Their swords were nothing out of the ordinary, but I especially hardened the edges of their blades with solid skill to increase the blade’s resilience. I may have added a bit of artistic license by adding impressive blade hamons to their swords. The blade pattern probably didn’t change their swords’ operational characteristics but as the old saying goes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it certainly enamoured me in their eyes.
As if suddenly discovering my usefulness, they invited me to join them in conversation around the fire. For the first time I didn’t share my meals with Orilay, and he didn’t seem to overly mind leaving me to socialise with the adventurers group calling themselves the Minstrels. I think he was simply happy I was networking with others, and I’m pleased to say my time with them didn’t go wasted. Two of the adventurers were unexpectedly women. I thought woman would be less likely to be involved with a team of adventurers, especially acting as vanguard fighters. They certainly didn’t seem to fit into the clichéd fantasy archer role. Even as fighters with the Minstrels, they never lost their feminine identity. Even during evening meals, the Minstrels wore hardened leather armour, which reminded me of rigid plastic, showing a dedication to their readiness for combat, heck they even slept in it.
Their group camaraderie reminded me of the civil services, cordial but firm, undergirded by hardcore skills they knew set them apart from everyone else.
Due to a continually worsening bottom-line, the mayor Mr. Marset, hired the Minstrels to remove any monsters in that area that were affecting the income from woodcutting activities. The signs of any monsters had visibly decreased in the area since the group started hunting and the good news was that the woodcutters could return to work as normal, and I could get access to the outside world again. To their disappointment the monsters seemed to keep clear of them, which meant they couldn’t receive any revenue from monster parts. When I asked them whether they used any ethereal energy they stared at me blankly.
“You mean something like user rings?”
“User rings?”
“You’ve never heard of user rings? Where have you been hiding all this time? Almost every adventurer knows about user rings, or at least dreams about having one.”
The minstrels explained that user rings were ancient jewellery items allowing wearers to utilise skills, there wasn’t another way to activate skills. No one could produce those items anymore because people lost the technology to make them, a long while ago. Although the remaining user rings were rare, there were some user skills that came in the form of pendants. None of the minstrels could recall ever seeing any one of them, although they heard about them from various sources. User rings were extremely expensive, sometimes bordering on the sublime, depending on the skill attached. Only the wealthy could afford to own user rings. User scrolls were another ancient item, although they only produced an item not a skill and were more accessible to the public because there were more of them still doing the rounds in the market. Opening a user scroll could produce basic items like simple iron weapons or useless items like poop scoops. User scrolls were more common but due to their prohibitive cost, never used and instead traded like a commodity or an insurance plan. Of course, there was no way to know what a scroll truly contained until someone broke the seal. Heart-wrenching stories abounded of fortunes lost due to dud scrolls or poor results. If one were lucky enough to come across one, perhaps in a dungeon quest or as an inheritance, it was always a lucky draw.
It was clear they had no idea what I was talking about when I asked the Minstrels about ethereal energy. Grenfell didn’t seem surprised in the least when I asked him about it.
“Ethereal energy isn’t commonly known amongst the public, even amongst the more educated it falls into the realm of fantasy.”
It seemed ironic that in a fantasy world the concept of fantasy worlds still existed. I wondered if earth would fall into the same category for them.
“Why is that?”
“Because over five hundred summer seasons ago the ability to use ethereal energy suddenly stopped.”
“Huh?”
As he sighed, his eyes gave a distant look.
“Nobody knows why it stopped, but only a few people can artificially replicate the effects of ethereal energy.”
“You’re talking about the handful of people you mentioned a while ago when you first watched me using it?”
“That’s right.”
Grenfell had previously mentioned a few people who could use ethereal energy, two of which stayed in the capital city of Shimmerstal.
“I must be unique then. Since I can directly use ethereal energy.”
“As I remember saying to you at the time when I saw you first using it.”
Grenfell and I finished over eighty spears until the spare metal we had ran out and the now curing spears stood undercover waiting for another week or so for them to be totally ready. At least if there was an attack on the camp in future, there would be decent weapons to fight back with. The woodcutters might not be that proficient at fighting monsters, but a carpet of eighty, razor sharp spears, would even make the fiercest monster think twice.
True to his word, once we created the spears, the old man let me have half days off to practice my skills. I discovered my newly found freedom mostly offset by the arrival of other teams from both Obon and Shimmerstal. Due to the larger group of people in camp, a young man joined me in my tent which totally restricted my nightly practicing activities, although I could still stealthily practice some of my skills. I was glad I would be heading back to Obon in a few days, hopefully when there I could find a place to stay and practice my skills.
Even though I had half the day off, I found my activities outside the camp limited and I couldn’t just let loose with my skills like I wanted to. They did allow me to visit the river unescorted and I used that opportunity to practice my liquid skills. My ability to manipulate water improved in leaps and bounds and combining it with gas skill, I could fire compressed water spheres with near lethal speed. When I used solid skill to freeze water, I could fire deadly icicles with gas skill. Since it took time to create compressed water spheres, the icicle option seemed a natural choice since I created ice almost instantaneously. It paid to have free standing water around in order to do that. I could’ve converted air moisture to liquid but the time penalty during a battle would far offset any gains.
I decided to do a practice run with the icicles at the river on my last two days. I created a circulating low air pressure above the water to create a vortex of water, basically a mini waterspout about the length of my forearm. I then froze the spout in a split second using both liquid and solid skills. From then on, gas skill was all I needed to lift the frozen icicle up into the air and within a split second adjusted the angle and fired it about twenty-five meters away. Within ten meters the icicle would be lethal. At my current ability I could only fire one icicle at a time and most of my practice had been around creating, lifting the icicle, aiming, and firing. I battled for such a long time, trying to lift ice out of water, that out of frustration I reverted to practicing with wooden sticks. I held them in the air to simulate the icicles until I became used to keeping them floating in the air with gas skill and then firing them.
Holding an object in the air may have seemed simple. After all, the anime and manga comics make it look so easy. Just saying ‘levitaatuus’ or something equally Latin sounding and the object floated, but in that world, it took a combination of some imagination and an understanding of fluid dynamics.