Days later, William kneeled in the great hall of King Estal with his comrades beside him. Before him, on the ground were several chests of gold and silver. The King looked upon him in bemusement but not displeasure. The same could not be said of the advisor beside the throne. "You bring me gifts from the cyclopi, William? This is not as I expected your return."

"Your pardon, your majesty. However, I judged that to storm the Royal Cave would invite a full-scale war," said William. "One that could ill be afforded with the Calishans so near at hand.

"Baltoth knows to strike at weakness.

"Thus, I approached King Themos and requested he give her back. He promised to attempt to agree with you. These gifts are a gesture of goodwill."

"Absurd!" said the advisor. "You were sent to free the princess; instead, you have returned with baubles. That and the false promises of monsters!"

"I was given this letter to you. It is written by Princess Cassandra's hand," said William, focusing on Estal. "To demonstrate that she has not been ill-treated." He drew out the letter from his bag and offered it. A servant took the letter before bringing it to King Estal.

Estal unrolled it and read it. "Yes, yes, this is her handwriting." He looked back to William. "Tell me, how did she look when you saw her?"

"She looked weary and ill at ease," said William. "But she was healthy, unharmed, and left to walk the Royal Cave freely. In truth, however, the cave is finer than many palaces I've seen. I do not think the cyclopi have been cruel to her.

"I watched her write the letter myself, and no cyclopi laid eyes on it. They do not know what is written. Whatever she says, there ought to be the truth."

Estal clasped his hands before him and leaned back on his throne. "This is unexpected. But you are indeed your father's son."

"Well spoken, my liege," said the advisor. "Duke Vanion has always preferred to negotiate with the enemies of Elranor. Do not face them in open combat. This boy may wear a terrible visage, but he is weak of heart."

"Be silent, Esgroth," said Estal. "You mistake praise for condemnation. There is a place for words and diplomacy, just as there is a place for the strokes of swords. To pursue the former is no crime, and Vanion has proven bold in the latter.

"Though I fear he was in error to seek a truce with Calisha."

"Are you not seeking a truce as well, Your Majesty?" asked William.

"I am," said King Estal. "For I know well that we cannot stand against Calisha alone. However, before the truce was signed, we had won many great victories at sea against the Calishans. Had the war continued, we should have been able to press our advantage. We could do great harm to Baltoth's designs.

"I fear that many knights of Estal are not fond of the name Gabriel."

"Then I will do all I can in my time here to prove my devotion to the cause of Harlenor," said William.

"That is all a man can do," said King Estal. "Yet the possibility of a truce with the cyclopi is problematic. How would you go about seeking a truce?"

William considered his answer. "I would have it be one that no one is fully satisfied with."

Estal looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "An interesting idea. Why should we seek such an arrangement?"

"When two men negotiate, and one man gets everything he wants," said William, "the other man will get nothing. He will resent the negotiation and take the first chance to reverse the result.

"Yet if a man gets only part of his desires, he will never be satisfied with the result. But he may still hesitate to seek reprisal for fear of losing what he has.

"It is thus better for both men to get something out of an arrangement. They may loath it but will still uphold it for their own sake."

"A pragmatic concept," said Estal. "Grounded in the real. Yet that is not all there is. In time, young William, you will find that some things cannot be allowed. In some matters, to yield ground is to submit to wickedness.

"Yet not, I think, in this one. I shall begin my negotiations with King Themos. And I pray that some understanding may be reached.

"Still, this leaves the matter of your knighting. I shall not call the quest a success or a failure until the negotiations occur. If my daughter is returned to me, I shall gladly knight you. Should she be kept captive, then I will find some other task worthy of knighting."

"As you wish, King Estal," said William.

When William returned to his quarters, he found Mother waiting for him. She was polishing her shield on one knee. Her long blonde hair was tied behind her head, and her green eyes flicked over him as he entered. "William, there you are. You have been busy."

"I was on a mission from King Estal," said William.

"Was it successful?" asked Azgora.

"I don't know yet," said William. "Perhaps. How fares your efforts with the militia?"

"A collection of weak fools if ever there was one," said Azgora. "I sought permission from King Estal to whip them into shape. And I have gained it. My first order of business was to flog everyone who arrived late."

"That is somewhat harsh, isn't it?" asked William.

"The men and women of this land have grown fat and lazy," said Azgora. "They are sheltered from assault by the cliffs of this island. They fight with mercenaries and knights. I will not allow such sloth. Their strength shall befit their noble heritage when I finish with them.

"I will not allow the men of this region to decay into the spineless weaklings of my land."

"Of course, Mother," said William. There was no reason with her like this.

"That reminds me of something," said Azgora. "I have a letter for you from your father." She reached over to a table and drew it out. "Take it."

"Father?" asked William. "How did he find us?" Wait, that was a foolish question. "Oh right, the runes on my sword. How did he deliver it with the winds so calm?"

"Rusara sent it by bird," said Azgora.

"Then she is with him?" asked William, taking the letter. "Let me see it." He opened the letter, drew it up, and read it.

"My son,

I don't pretend to know what you are doing on Estal. However, I advise you to leave. Now. I have managed to convince them to seek a truce with Calisha. But knowing the character of Prince Aris and his company, there is a good chance of a war.

I will tell you what happened now that I've gotten the advice. I have arrived in the Iron Kingdom with a fleet of mercenaries who had gathered to fight the raishans. I had originally intended to conquer the place by force. In retribution for that fiasco with the Axe of Fortenex, of course. Fortunately, I've been spared the trouble of doing so by Melchious' stupidity.

The countryside has been largely depopulated. My initial assessment indicates that four out of every ten people are dead. It is far worse in the city itself. More will soon follow, for the giants have been launching raids. However, these numbers may be exaggerated due to the populace's panic.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

I've allied with the survivors' leader, Lord Byran. We've been cooperating to conquer the giants and Einheroth to secure the Kingdom. I intend to set him up as King, of course. He's competent but weak enough that he'll need to rely on us for support. Better still, there are vast tracts of land open for colonization. I've already made the arrangements with King Andoa. An expedition is being made as we speak. And I have Rusara working to appease the spirits of the land to accept us.

Of course, all this chaos means I won't be back in Artarq for at least a month. I've left Raynald in charge in my absence. Not an ideal fit, of course, but we're stretched a bit thin. I'll need you to keep him from doing anything too reckless. Thus, you should set out for there immediately.

Sincerely yours,

Your Father, Vanion Gabriel, Governor of Artarq, Lord of Carn Gable, Duke of Brisgald.

William remembered the bloodletting unleashed by Melchious. Men, women, children, old and young alike. All dead. They had torn each other apart, driven mad by the will of the Dark Dreamer. His mouth went dry, and he felt cold. He looked at the letter and narrowed his eyes.

"Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom," said William. "And he doesn't even care."

"Vanion was not there," said Azgora. "And he does not think like you or me, William. Vanion sees opportunities and resources. He has to work hard to think of people as people unless he has met them. Most people do.

"He represents what is greatest in the men of my land. Yet he is not without the virtues of those who dwell in these eastern lands," She paused. "There is a bird waiting here for a response. Will you write to him?"

"Yes," said William. "Felix, get me a quill and parchment. I need to write my reply."

Wordlessly, Felix obeyed, and William went into his room. Sitting by a desk, he muttered an incantation and created a bright light from the Sun Spirit. Then he began to write.

"Dear Father,

Thousands of people died in the Iron Kingdom. It would be goodgood if you could pretend to be concerned about the fact. As for your colonization plans, it seems to be in poor taste. Do you truly think of the devastation of the Iron Kingdom as an opportunity? There are many colonies we have already made. I think we should support Byran in securing his kingdom, accept tribute for Antion, and leave. As for Melchious, what in Elranor's name makes you think he is stupid?

Melchious destroyed the Iron Kingdom because destruction and misery were his end goal. And judging by his speech, I suspect it was only the prelude to greater horrors. Fortunately, Mother killed his avatar, or he might be enacting them now. As it is, Arraxia escaped with the Void Stone and the Axe, which is honestly preferable. She, at least, has a vested interest in the continued existence of life. She desires its subjugation rather than its destruction.

Also, for all her airs, I suspect she is not competent enough to use either.

Regarding setting out for Artarq, I can do no such thing. An unnatural wind drove us to Estal, and we have been becalmed ever since then. The air itself conspires to keep us trapped. I've been spending my time here trying to negotiate a truce between Estal and the cyclopi.

I am doing this because peace is good. Not because I plan to dethrone both at a later date.

Sincerely yours,

Your son, William Gabriel."

Wordlessly, he offered it to Felix, who read through it. His expression became concerned. "Well, it is blunt. I wouldn't send it if I were you."

"I will," said William "It's disgraceful the way he just sees an opportunity in Melchious' actions."

"All great figures seek opportunity," said Mother. "They seize their destiny and defy their fate. It is in such efforts that we are known as great. Not merely as another link in the chain of nobility."

"There are other kinds of greatness than conquest," said William.

"You're wrong, William," said Felix. "Every achievement in the history of the world is born from conquest. When you heal and destroy a disease, you are overcoming a challenge—conquering it, if you will. When you build a road through woodlands, you subjugate nature to your will.

"Duke Vanion understands this. In all things, he attempts to enforce his will upon the universe. And he does so with great skill. He is a man after Baltoth's own heart."

"Silence!" said William, raising a hand.

Felix flinched. William realized he'd been about to strike him. He lowered his hand. "Felix, forgive me, I... I wasn't thinking."

"I'm well aware," said Felix without expression. "You rarely think about things before you do them. Either you think about things and reach all the wrong answers."

"Why is it wrong to challenge my father's actions Felix?" asked William. "Tell me that?"

"Because you are his heir. You will eventually inherit his domain and everything he gains," said Felix. "It is in your interest that he conquers and grows great. And nothing you do should interfere with that conquest.

"Send that letter, and you will prick his pride. Proud men do reckless things when they are challenged."

"You aren't seriously suggesting that my father might disinherit me?" asked William. He'd known Felix was paranoid. He hadn't thought it to this extent.

"Not over this," said Felix. "But one slight challenge can lead to greater confrontations. Little by little, these conflicts escalate until you are both estranged."

"Felix, you are being paranoid," said William. "Father isn't going to disinherit me because I sent him one letter."

"Believe what you will," said Felix.

William resealed the letter and brought the letter to Azgora. "Mother, here is my letter. Could you give it to the bird?"

"Of course," said Azgora. "I have already prepared my own letter."

William looked to Felix. Suddenly, he wanted to be by himself. He wasn't sure why. He wanted no one around him for miles. "I'm going to take a walk."

"Right," said Felix.

"Alone," said William.

"You want me to leave you alone?" asked Felix.

"I need to think about things, Felix," said William. "I need to be on my own."

"...As you wish," said Felix. There was something else in his eyes.

William's feet carried him away from the palace and into the lands around the palace. He found himself walking amidst the trees. Darkness came on, and the moonlight glinted off his armor. In time, he came to a pond, feeling almost as if he had been drawn there.

Swimming upon the pond was the most magnificent swan he had ever seen. The white feathers were brighter than any he had seen. Its neck was tall and proud, and it swam toward him. Unsure as to why William sat down by the edge of the pond as the swan drew near.

Reaching out a hand for it, the swan drew near. He could almost touch it.

Then, there was a shower of gold, and the swan was gone. In its place was a tall, immensely beautiful woman who was stark naked. Her legs were as long and curvaceous as Mother's, and she had huge breasts matching even Arraxia. The curve of her hips and thin waist made for the most beautiful hourglass figures. The bounce of her chest was hypnotic. Her hair was long, coming down in bangs on either side. And there was a star on her brow gleaming while her eyes shone with power. Woman.

William found his armor dropping for a moment, stunned by her beauty. Then she smiled and was upon him.

Before he knew what was happening, she had forced him onto the ground. He tried to push her off, but her arms had an impossible strength. Soon, she had him pinned. His helm was forced off of him.

Soon her lips were pressed against his. The sensation of her tongue forcing its way into his mouth made his head go blank with pleasure. He felt her hands gripping his armor, roaming across it. The straps were straining and about to break, and he strove to get her off, but this only added to her enjoyment.

He could hardly breathe as she nibbled his neck. Hardly move. What the hell was going on?

"Zeya!"

The voice carried throughout the lands. The woman drew back. Before William could speak, she forced a hand over his mouth. She pushed his head down to the ground. An expression of panic went across the woman's face, and she looked at William. Her eyes flared brighter for a moment.

Then William found himself changing. He felt horrific pain as his armor merged into his flesh. His nose grew larger and flat. His hands and feet transformed into hooves, and blonde fur grew from his body. He yelled, and what he heard was the moaning of cattle. The woman put forth a hand and began to scratch him behind the ears.

Out of the trees came a man. He was slender of build and looked effeminate to William. He wore violet robes and carried a staff in hand. He radiated a sort of enraged fidelity, which was difficult to look at. His hair was silver, and he had a book by his side. The woman looked at him with an innocent look. "Yes, what is it, Herus?"

Mel'Zayer? The god of the hearth? Of marriage?

"Zeya, just what do you think you are doing?" asked Mel'Zayer.

"Nothing. I was merely admiring this bull," said Zeya. "The creature is magnificent, is he not?"

Zeya. This was the goddess Zeya that Mother had worshipped all her life. She had just tried to force herself on William. He could hardly conceive of what had just happened. The degradation and insult were unbearable to him.

Mel'Zayer obviously didn't believe a word Zeya had said. Surely, he would call her on this. "...He is. Indeed, he is a creature of great strength. Will you give him to me, my dear?" His voice was melodious and fatherly.

Zeya paused, caught in her lie. "Give him to you?"

"Yes," said Mel'Zayer. "As a gift, my darling wife."

Zeya smiled nervously. "Yes, yes, of course. You may have him with my blessing."

Mel'Zayer put forth a hand, and from it came a golden rope that wrapped itself around William's neck. He found his will being sapped. All he could think was that this was not fair. He had done nothing. Yet now, he was being taken into slavery for the crime of his assailant.

"Wonderful," said Mel'Zayer. "Come, creature. I have a place for you."

William could not disobey. His will to resist was gone.