A murmur rolled through the gathered attendees of the council. They glanced at each other. After a few seconds, the scale-skinned man leapt to his feet again, facing the elf. “Three days ago, kobolds landed in this very city, and your great wisdom is that we should ‘let it go’? That we should show restraint?” He tapped a clawed finger down on the table, scratching the wood. “Another empire has allied itself with the Enemy, for all we know!”
The elf nodded. “That is my wisdom.”
The Thegn of Eight, seemingly the only thegn at the council, stood. “They sought to prove that we are weak. If we fail to meet their challenge, what message does that send? If we back down, are we showing them that we are powerful? Capable?”
Again, the council murmured. Jace bit his lip.
“Enough with the arguments…” Jace muttered. He lifted his head over the edge of the stone rim and stared directly at Kinfild. Perhaps the Wielder would help. Maybe he would urge the council to let their sensibilities win over their urges for revenge. But Kinfild was silent.
Jace inhaled through his nose, then tightened his fists. If he wanted something to happen, he had to make it happen himself. He leapt up from cover and vaulted over the edge of the brick ruins. He slid down into the muddy side of the pit and pushed off towards the platform that the council sat on. He grabbed a tree branch to slow himself, then stumbled to a halt.
“Stop!” he called. “You all need to stop!”
The council fell silent. Their heads whipped towards Jace, and suddenly, he regretted jumping down. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to keep his head high.
“Who is this?” a dwarven man demanded. “Who are you to interrupt?”
“This is Jace Baldwin,” Kinfild said. He pushed himself up with his staff, then surveyed the entire crowd. “He is the worldjumper who destroyed the queen-core and killed Byseg Stenol. You owe him your attention, if nothing else.”
Jace dipped his head thankfully. He forced himself to step forward and meet the gazes of everyone who stared at him.
“I…I don’t know much about this galaxy,” Jace began. He knew his voice was too quiet, and when he continued, he tried—tried—to put an extra touch of effort into it. “I come from a place far, far from here, and there have been many wars there. I was supposed to be a soldier, you know, but I’m not.” He sighed, then tried to put on a brave face. “There’s something more going on in the shadows. Someone wants a war here, and you’re playing right into their hands.”
Jace paused to gauge the reaction of the crowd. None of them spoke. Their gazes were unwavering, and he didn’t know what to say.
The council sat silently, still staring at Jace. He noticed some disgruntled expressions, and some somber ones. He noticed an enraged snarl on the face of the man with scaly skin. Kinfild, however, met Jace’s gaze with astonishment and…pride?
Jace knelt down to match the height of the rest of the seated council members and placed his hands on his knees. “I was given a second chance, and I won’t waste it. I will keep hunting darklings. I will advance and forge myself into a powerful warrior capable of saving anyone and everyone. And by the looks of it, there’ll be more and more darklings. You can’t fight amongst yourselves right now.”
For another few long minutes, the council descended into aggressive conversation. Jace didn’t know if it could be called arguing or bickering, not yet, but they were loud. He knew there was nothing more he could do or say—if words were to change anything. He stood up, ready to walk away, when a palace guard ran along the trail and burst into the council.
The guard ducked beneath a branch, then stood at the council chamber’s entryway. Maybe he was waiting for the crowd to quiet down. They didn’t.
Kinfild stood up and slammed his staff down against the stone ground. “Quiet!” he bellowed, orange sparks whirling around his throat and fortifying his voice box. Then, he tipped his head toward the palace guard.
As soon as the last whispers of conversation faded, the guard stepped forwards. He carried a letter in his hands. “For the First Attendant. Minister Jyssar has returned from Roteac, sir. The Koedor-Terginian Emperor and the Phélese delegation both made a declaration to him.”
The First Attendant stood and walked around the edge of the table. He took the letter from the guard briskly and ripped it open. His eyes whisked back and forth across the letter. Then, he pressed it down on the table, and he looked up. “I will read it word-for-word. I…do not believe there is more that I can do with it. ‘Transcript of the proceedings of 09/30/5256, as documented by the Chysar’s Secretary of the Hall. 09:16 to 09:18 standard time. Presented by Chysar Retevik Habsilir. Translated to Starrealm Standard Speech.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“ ‘Mr. Jyssar, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Starrealm of Artanor, you have been summoned here to receive this declaration. Over the past century, the Starrealm of Artanor has allowed the galaxy’s defenses to atrophy beyond a point of repair. This most recent attack at Celacor has laid bare your inadequacies.
“ ‘For too long have we been defenseless. The Enemy will return, and the Starrealm will fail. We, as representatives of the eastern powers, must take action ourselves—with the utmost solemnity.
“ ‘At this moment, we offer you a chance to surrender. Allow the Koedor-Terginian Empire to seize control of the Wall and of your ineffective government. If no surrender is received within twenty-four standard hours, a state of war will exist between us.’ End transcript.”
Jace’s eyes bolted wide open. He looked at Kinfild, then said, “We stopped them. We protected the system, and—”
“And Stenol died,” Kinfild whispered. “Kobolds seemingly passed through the Wall and attacked a heavily populated star-system. Both sides will frame it as they please—an unpreventable war.”
Jace glanced around. Everywhere he looked, someone was arguing. The councilors pointed fingers and raised their voices. He stepped back from the table and crossed his arms. One more look, and he decided that he’d had enough. He tightened his fists and whispered, “I don’t need them. I’ll make my own path.”
He spun as quickly as he could, snapping his coattails through the air behind him. He sprinted around the edge of the table, then ran back onto the trail.
He ran away from the old ruins and back into the palace as fast as he could. It didn’t matter where he ended up; he just needed to get away. He ran through the palace corridors, again descending—down to the main street level.
He sprinted out into the damaged foyer, past the rubble and crews working on cleanup and repair, and past the corpse of the Luna Wrath. When he made it to the battle-scarred plaza, he stopped.
When the Starrealm fleet had arrived, they had annihilated their enemies in orbit, then moved down to the cities. The kobolds had all collapsed with no more shadow-aspect Aes from the queen-core to fuel them, leaving only unanimated, rotting corpses of red flesh and patchy fur and a few Koedor-Terginian soldiers.
Across the plaza, a few battleships had settled down. For an entire hour, he watched yellowcoats board the vessels in orderly lines. The battleships’ thrusters roared. Even a mile away, Jace’s ears hurt. Then, the enormous starships lifted off the ground, and he could barely hear himself breathe, let alone think.
He shut his eyes and drew himself into the dreamspace. Sixteen glowing crystals rested beside the root map, ready for him to distribute. He placed them evenly between Strength, Vital, Resistance, and Agility—four each.
A calm satisfaction bled into the tips of his limbs. He sat down in front of the sapling and shut his eyes, and for the first time, he tasted the fresh, natural scent of the void. His veins pulsed, and his body adjusted to the changes, breaking his limits and preparing his flesh and spirit to improve.
When he was certain that he felt nothing else—no shifting muscles, no trembling bones, no surging blood in his veins—he stood up. He forced his eyes open, both in the void and the real world, and the dreamspace faded.
Once the battleships had climbed high into the atmosphere, he could hear footsteps crunched through the loose rubble behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Lessa and Kinfild walked up behind him.
“Jace…” Lessa breathed, then ran to his side. “You’re alright, yeah?”
Kinfild approached him, flanking him on the other side. “What will you do now, Mr. Baldwin?”
“Exactly what I said I’d do at the council,” he told them. “Stenol might have gotten the war he wanted, but we protected the people here. You don’t have to come with me, but I’m going to wander. I’ll advance and keep…helping.”
“Very well,” said Kinfild. “It would be awfully irresponsible for me to let you run off on your own. With my guidance, we should have your foundation pillars formed up within the month, and you can begin your soul-circle opening.” He glanced back into the vestibule. “If we spend the rest of the day repairing the Luna Wrath, she will be spaceworthy again.”
“Any ideas where to go next?” Jace asked.
“I heard a few guards talking about an infestation of regular darklings on Seven’s farms,” said Kinfild. “We may as well deal with that while we are here.”
“Hey, as long as we keep going around and seeing new things, I’m down for it,” Lessa chirped, pumping her fist. “I’m not going home just yet.”
Jace smiled. “Then let’s get going. With the way things are, we’ve got lots of work to do.”
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Thank you for reading! You've reached the end of volume one! As it's the end of the first volume, there'll be a short break before the next volume starts up (about a week). I've also put the final stat sheet below for reference (:
If you're interested in reading more stories, I've got two one fictions running on the site and a book on amazon, if anyone is interested. Links in the post-chapter author note below.
Again, thanks for reading!
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Final Stats:
[Gathered Analytics]
Name: Jace Scott Baldwin
Worldjumper #: 5
Class: Core Hunter
Advancement Progress: Foundation 2 (37.6%)
Standard Level Rating: 19
[Attributes]
Strength: 14
Vital: 44
Resistance: 36
Agility: 16
Potency: 1
[Technique Cards]
Trigger Hyperjump
Wanderer’s Banishment
[Significant Items]
Unnamed Whistling Blade, spirit-enhanced clothing
[Titles]
Worldjumper #5 (no effect) (cannot be removed)
Witness of the Ancients (+1 Agility) (cannot be removed)