Mana Soul: Chapter 62 - The Stranger - Markus

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Aela hadn’t said a word since the ambassador, his wife, and the accompanying chimaera had left. Despite his curiosity, Markus had avoided looking at the oddly dressed chimaera after realising it was bothering Aela, but it didn’t seem to have made much of a difference.

Suspecting that Aela might want time to herself, Markus had decided to go through some sparring exercises to pass the time and burn off some of his nervous energy. With Phillipe already busy, Markus sparred against Hector instead.

Training against a golem was a significantly different experience to training with Phillipe. Utterly tireless and without pity, Hector pushed Markus to the limits of his abilities and kept him there until Markus was just about ready to collapse from exhaustion.

Hector had maintained a minor edge over Markus throughout the session, incrementally increasing or decreasing its speed and level of technique to keep Markus engaged and believing that he could win. Of course, Hector was entirely capable of fighting at far greater speeds and with considerably greater force, but in the heat of the moment, it hadn’t felt that way at all.

“I wonder what Phillipe would think if he had to train against you,” Markus wondered aloud while wiping the sweat from his brow. It was while doing so that he noticed the ambassador’s wife Yukio, and the chimaera, Akane, approaching the training grounds.

Yukio was no longer wearing her colourful robe and was instead wearing what looked like boiled leather armour over dark clothing. She also had a wooden practice sword slung through her cloth belt alongside a similarly shaped rod Markus could only assume was meant to imitate the role of the sword's scabbard.

Akane was wearing the same armour but had not changed her clothes. Curiously, Akane had brightly lacquered replicas of her scissor blades tucked through the back of her belt.

Markus splashed his face with water from the nearby barrel and began to walk away. The last thing he wanted was for Aela to misunderstand the situation and grow even more jealous.

“Forgiveness,” the ambassador’s wife bowed low at the waist while pressing her hands together, “If his honoured Majesty has time, both my humble self and Lady Akane would appreciate a judge of your Majesty’s martial skill to judge our training.” Yukio’s accent was thicker than her husband’s but it somehow felt deliberate, as if intending to position herself in a weaker position.

“You flatter me,” Markus replied hurriedly, knowing full well that he was by no means a particularly skilled swordsman. He was proficient at best, and he suspected she knew that. “I don’t think I am qualified to-”

“What about the golem?” Akane pointed a clawed finger at Hector, “Surely the golem would be qualified?”

Markus glanced at Hector and then nodded slowly in agreement, “I suppose I can spare Hector for the time being.”

Akane’s left ear twitched.

Markus just assumed it was a reaction to learning that the golems had names. So far as he knew, Markus was the only one who engaged in the practice.

Leaving Hector behind, Markus returned to the castle with Leona as his sole dedicated bodyguard. However, as he was about to pass through the portcullis, he stopped.

“Lookth like you Dolly!” Arlee exclaimed excitedly, the volume of her voice magnified by her P`A.

Looking over his shoulder, Markus flinched as he witnessed Arlee’s P`A charging towards the training area with Dolly hot on her heels.

Technically, the rebels were Markus's allies, but he was not particularly comfortable with the idea of the P`As becoming common knowledge.

Curiously, while the ambassador’s wife Yukio was looking at Arlee’s P`A, the chimaera Akane seemed far more interested in Dolly.

“Can I look at your thithor thordth?” Arlee asked eagerly, leaning her P`A downward and pointing towards the scissors on Akane’s back.

Akane looked away from Dolly and gave Arlee’s P`A a curious smile before drawing her practice swords, flipping them end over end, catching them by the blades and offering Arlee the handles.

Squealing excitedly, the front of Arlee’s P`A opened and Arlee scrambled out of her safety restraints.

“Help keep an eye on Arlee,” Markus muttered quietly, “And try not to let them get a good look inside of the P`A.” For all he knew, the ambassador’s wife might be an Artificer, and the last thing he wanted was for the inner workings to be copied by someone else.

Leona obeyed his command and briskly headed towards Arlee while Markus retreated into his castle.

Sparring with Hector had left Markus sore and tired. He had originally wanted to take a quick bath and then take a nap, but Markus doubted he would be able to get any degree of meaningful rest any time soon.

Markus found Aela waiting for him in their room. Without saying a word, she pushed him down onto their bed and pressed her lips against his.

Sitting in his bath sometime later, Markus felt guilty that he still couldn’t shake the thought of the other chimaera from his mind. The uncanny similarity of her outfit and armament to Dolly was profoundly unnerving, and it made his brain itch in a way he just couldn’t ignore. Markus wasn’t sure why this was the case, since Dolly had designed its outfit entirely on its own. Markus had no part in the design process whatsoever.

Yet his brain continued to itch, returning all thoughts to her robes and the large pair of scissors on her back.

Too tired and sore Markus had to call for a golem to assist him out of the bath. Even knowing full well that the golems were functionally sexless, Markus felt a fresh twinge of guilt and embarrassment when a female-modeled golem answered the call.

Markus had to remind himself over and over again that the golems were only playing roles. Even then, their sex was an infinitesimally small element of that role. Unfortunately, that just made Markus feel even more insecure about his embarrassment. Obviously, he was slowly coming around to Aela’s way of thinking, and he didn’t like where it was headed.

Markus wasn’t cruel to his golems. There was no task he gave them that he himself would not do if he had the time or their untiring constitution as automatons. To some degree, the golems were an extension of himself, so it would be perverse for Markus to mistreat them.

Resting on the bed alongside Aela, Markus tried to fall asleep. However, his thoughts kept returning to the chimaera and dolly.

With a hissing grunt, Markus pulled on a clean set of clothes and his boots. If his brain wasn’t going to let it go, then Markus was going to confront the chimaera directly.

“Where are you going?” Aela asked sleepily, taking a deceptively strong hold of Markus’s left hand and dragging him back to bed.

Markus very nearly blurted his intentions without any form of filter but managed to stop himself at the last moment. “I left Leona and Hector to watch over Arlee, but they haven’t returned yet,” Markus improvised, generally aware that he was telling the truth but also somehow turning that truth into a partial lie through his misdirection, “There probably isn’t anything to worry about, but I was thinking that checking up on her might help me get to sleep.” That was close to being an outright lie.

Despite Markus’s attempts at misdirection, the look in Aela’s eyes suggested that she was able to read Markus’s mind and wasn’t happy about what she was seeing. “I’ll come with you,” Aela insisted quietly, giving Markus’s wrist a firm squeeze in warning before getting off the bed.

Markus decided it was probably for the best and waited patiently while Aela got dressed. “There is just something that is bugging me about that chimaera’s clothes,” he admitted, immediately earning an intense stare from Aela, “Why was she dressed the same as Dolly? They both even have those damned scissors.”

Aela tilted her head slightly to one side and the intensity of her stare faltered, “They do...” She agreed somewhat reluctantly with a hint of puzzlement, “Maybe it is common for eastern dolls to dress this way?” Aela suggested while pulling on her jacket.

“Then why is Dolly dressing like that? And why would a ‘Lady’ dress like a child’s doll?” Markus asked without really expecting a satisfactory answer, “Something just feels...Off...I can’t explain it...”

Aela was quiet for a few moments while pulling on her pants before slowly making a point of locking eyes with Markus. “Maybe you are remembering something and that’s why you can’t let it go?” She suggested.

Markus slowly nodded, “Dolly was playing around with those scissors long before Peabody made a trade agreement with the imperial rebels...And since I made Dolly’s consciousness with my own, maybe Dolly ‘remembered’ something for me?” Markus was clutching at straws and he knew it, but he needed things to make sense before everything began to unravel.

Moving through the castle, Markus had to stop a few times to give his thighs a break from the stairs. On the second break, he seriously began to consider the viability of a vertically moving platform that could facilitate travel between the floors of the castle, saving Markus’s tired legs from the stairs in the process.

“They are in the dining hall...” Aela commented after tasting the air with her tongue, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Markus was about to say something but caught his tongue as a thrumming tune accompanied by impassioned vocals began echoing down the stone corridor.

“-will always fight for those that I lo-o-o-ove! My Heart is our shie-ield! Woah-”

Markus felt his knees suddenly grow weak. He had heard this tune before...

“Markus!” Aela caught him before he could hit the ground, “Your eyes!”

Markus turned to look at Aela but couldn’t see her. She had vanished.

Somehow he had been transported from the castle into someone’s house. However, the pictures hanging on the walls were wreathed in clouds of shadows, making their contents imperceptible.

“-day or night. I will con-tin-ue-to-fight.” The tune was still playing but was quieter and the voice was softer and more feminine, and was coming from behind the door that now loomed in front of him.

Markus reached for the door handle and opened the door, his fingers so numb that he couldn’t even feel what he was doing.

The floor of the room on the other side of the door was littered with discarded clothing, but the walls were covered with pictures of a young lithe woman with red hair. She was wearing an indecently short robe, minimal armour, an animal mask on the side of her head, and holding ludicrously large blades that resembled the separated shears of a pair of scissors. Just like Dolly and the visiting chimaera.

A movement to Markus’s right shifted his focus to someone in dark baggy clothes sitting on a strange chair in front of what looked like one of Markus’s remote viewing artifices. “Get out!” An unnatural voice commanded from beneath the dark hood as the figure pointed a pale hand to the door insistently.

“-no sacrifice too great for those that I lo-ove!”

Markus felt himself stagger back towards the hallway and out of the room, his voice catching in his chest.

“GET OUT!” The voice repeated, this time with enough anger that the figure's entire arm shook and trembled with rage. The figure leapt unsteadily from their chair and rushed towards the door, revealing herself to be almost as tall as Markus. The dark hood that had hidden her face had fallen away and revealed someone strikingly similar to Arlee.

She had short dark brownish red hair like Arlee and Markus, deep green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her features were twisted in anger, but her eyes reflected a deep pain and loneliness Markus was all too familiar with.

Before Markus could say a single word, the door slammed in his face and sent him crashing to the floor.

Blearily opening his eyes, Markus found himself lying in his own bed with Aela straddling his waist and forcibly prying open his eyes with her fingers while her face was less than an inch away from his own. “Just wake up...” Aela whispered quietly, her voice quavering

Markus tried to blink, but couldn’t.

Aela gave a start and very nearly crushed his pelvis, “Markus!” She abruptly released his eyelids, allowing Markus the opportunity to blink away the tears he now felt gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Your eyes began to flicker again, but then you suddenly went limp like a dead eel!” Aela’s voice trembled, “You stopped breathing...You were so cold...”

Markus didn’t know what to say, and his throat felt like it was packed full of wool, so he could only manage a weak cough before Aela lifted him off the bed and pulled Markus into a tight embrace.

Feeling quite weak, Markus did his best to return the embrace.

After some time had passed, Aela’s trembling had begun to subside and she lowered them both to the bed, “Sorry...” She apologised quietly, “I was so afraid that...That...” Aela’s lips quivered and she looked away.

“It’s okay,” Markus fumbled for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “I’m feeling much better, I promise.”

Aela’s eyes locked onto his own and stared intently for a few moments before softening. She squeezed Markus’s hand in return but seemed to make a conscious effort not to grip too hard.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours before Markus had gathered his thoughts enough to confirm what he had seen and felt confident in explaining it to Aela.

“And you think the woman you saw, the one that looks like Arlee, is part of your family?” Aela asked quietly, her expression and tone both thoughtful and a far cry from the jealousy Markus had expected.

Markus hesitantly nodded, “I have seen that place before, but never her face...”

“It must have been the music,” Aela suggested after briefly gnawing her lip, “Or maybe those strange clothes as well? Somehow they knocked one of your memories loose and...and...” Her voice trailed off as she shivered and briefly tightened her grip on Markus.

“The memory, or what knocked it loose, gave me another seizure...” Markus stated in agreement. It was becoming obvious that the most serious events of his ill health were in some way related to his past trauma. The primary problem was that if Markus wanted to investigate further, it would mean he should anticipate more seizures, which was doing who knew how much damage to his body and mind.

“Do you think that person is the one Peabody was telling you about?” Aela asked hesitantly, reminding Markus of Peabody's earlier report of a potential match, “Markus?”

“Uh, sorry,” Markus apologised awkwardly, “I think you are right. I’m just not sure if I should investigate further...” As much as he wanted to find his family, if he had any, and find out who he was, Markus didn’t want to lose everything he had managed to gain either.

“You're worried you might have another seizure?” Aela guessed, wincing slightly as she said it.

Markus nodded.

“I could investigate for you,” Aela offered hesitantly, “Maybe the reason why the golems are keeping their distance is because they know you can check them at any time?”

“Maybe...” Markus agreed hesitantly. It wasn’t that he thought Aela didn’t have a point, but he suspected that there was very likely more to the situation. “But that would mean you couldn’t take golems with you either...”

“I could take my brothers,” Aela countered firmly, “And if this person is a member of your family, maybe being told that information before meeting them will prevent you from having another seizure.”

“Meeting them?” Markus was still struggling somewhat to string his thoughts together. It seemed obvious that he would want to meet them, but the thought itself hadn’t occurred to him.

Aela seemed to recognise his problem and passed up the opportunity to make a sarcastic or derogatory remark, choosing to wait patiently instead.

“What about that chimaera? Surely she would know something?” Markus insisted while trying to get his thoughts straightened out.

“She left with the ambassador...” Aela explained quietly, “But I could track her on the other side of Peabody’s portal!” She insisted helpfully.

“Why did they leave so suddenly?” Markus asked worriedly.

“I don’t think it was because of...what happened...” Aela shifted uncomfortably, “The golem said something about organising their side of the payment or something like that,” She blushed slightly and fidgeted a little, “I wasn’t paying much attention to that though...”

“That’s understandable,” Markus chuckled wryly, “I don’t think I would have handled things any better if the situation was reversed.”

Aela gave a small smile before growing worried again, “Maybe I should just stay with you. We can just have Phillipe and Hilda speak with the Rebels for us. There can’t be many people that look like Arlee, especially in the east.”

Markus slowly nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted answers, Markus didn’t like the idea of Aela being apart from him either. Of course, there was the added advantage that Phillipe would approach the matter with a great deal more social grace and tact.

With things more or less settled, for the time being, Markus did his best to try and relax. Working himself up wasn’t going to solve anything.

Not feeling up for eating dinner, Markus just watched as Aela ate the meal brought to their room by one of the golems.

“Do you think the southerners will try an attack tonight?” Aela asked curiously while picking a piece of shredded meat from between her teeth, “That’s what Phillipe’s uncle expects them to do, right?”

“This isn’t really my area of expertise...” Markus reminded her, “But Welard did seem to think it was the most likely reason for their premature withdrawal.”

Aela let out a long sigh as she set aside her plate on the nightstand, “That’s assuming they are competent and have a plan,” Aela commented derisively, making it obvious that she didn’t think much of them.

“True,” Markus agreed, “I don’t recall having heard of the Crowned Prince being involved in any military campaigns before this one. So if the more experienced commanders are being ignored, I suppose it would be possible to have the battle turn out like it did.”

Without any formal acknowledgement of the fact, both Markus and Aela spent the rest of the night lightly resting beside one another on the bed. Contrary to their expectations, a golem did not disturb them with news of an attempted night assault. Already feeling quite tired, Markus snuggled in closer to Aela and fell asleep.

“Markus, wake up,” Aela insisted while rocking his shoulder.

Yawning loudly, Markus groggily opened his eyes to find that Aela was already half dressed.

“They launched their attack a few minutes ago,” Aela explained while pulling on her trousers, “It seems like they were trying to deliberately tire out the defenders by making them stay up all night on watch.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Markus shook his head vigorously and rubbed at his eyes, “But Welard would have just left the golems on watch, right?”

“Maybe,” Aela replied without much confidence, “Although, I suppose that even if he didn’t, the golems should be more than enough to hold the wall if it comes down to it. Unless the nobles plan on getting their hands dirty...” She paused thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded to herself, “They probably will, if the plan was to take the defenders relatively unawares.”

Markus followed Aela’s lead and began getting himself dressed.

Once they were both dressed they headed down to the war room and settled into their seats.

The projections in the middle of the room showed the battle was well underway and that the coalition forces were taking severe casualties, just like the day before. The early morning gloom was working somewhat to the coalition’s favour, impairing the ability for the crossbowmen and ballista crews to take as well aimed shots as they otherwise would have.

Despite the casualties, the coalition’s soldiers and levies continued pushing for the trench. A pair of Mages hurled sheets of ice at the ballista crews, but the palisades absorbed the attacks without taking more than superficial damage and return fire from the ballistae killed one of the Mages outright by driving a barbed javelin through his helmet.

All of the ammunition being used in the battle was enchanted to weaken and outright compromise other enchantments upon contact. Or rather, they would weaken or compromise enchantments that did not include specific safeguards known only to Markus, Tina, and the golems. Depending on the nature of the target’s enchantments, their armour would be reduced to only its most mundane protections.

With the abrupt death of the first Mage, the second immediately fled the battlefield while trying to keep as many soldiers and levies between himself and the ballistae as possible.

By the time the coalition had successfully laid ramps to begin assaulting the wall, they had lost close to half their army to deaths, injuries and outright desertion. With no sign of reinforcements, it looked like the offensive was going to collapse.

Then the Crowned Prince and the other nobles took to the field.

This seemed to be what Welard had been waiting for. Without warning, every ballista shifted targets towards the advancing nobles and fired. Within moments, the cohort of nobles had been devastated by the withering barrage, leaving only the Crowned Prince and four of his personal bodyguards still standing.

“FLEE AND WE WILL NOT PURSUE!!!” Welard’s voice boomed with wrathful indignation, “OATHBREAKERS AND FECKLESS CURS DESERVE NO SUCH KINDNESS!!! WERE IT NOT FOR YOUR ROYAL BLOOD, YOU WOULD SHARE THE GRAVE OF THOSE YOU DROVE TO THEIR DEATHS!!!”

Already on its last legs, the coalition offensive broke almost immediately.

Whether it was out of a sense of decency or pragmatism, the crossbowmen and ballistae crews were ordered to hold their fire.

“Majesty!” Welard’s regular speaking voice came through the projection artifice, “The enemy has been driven from the field! Efforts to retrieve the wounded and expended ammunition will begin shortly! Unless your Majesty has additional orders?!” He sounded hopeful, almost like he expected Markus to give the order for the Crowned Prince and other nobles to be captured.

Markus may have considered giving that order if he felt like it would have stood a chance at succeeding without risk of sparking an outright war. As it stood, Markus had bloodied the southern kingdom's face, but they had not yet begun to fight in earnest. Provoking the entire southern kingdom was not a good idea.

Markus also hadn’t fully considered this particular angle before either, but the second in line to the southern kingdom’s throne might actually become an asset to staving off further hostilities if Markus and Phillipe played their cards right.

“Just like that, the battle is over,” Aela declared with an exaggerated shrug, “Not that there was really any doubt about whether we would win.”

Markus wished he had Aela’s confidence. When the coalition levies and soldiers had reached the wall, Markus had clenched his fists so hard that his fingers hurt.

“I still think letting the prince go is a mistake,” Aela grumbled, “What’s to stop him from gathering more nobles and a bigger army? After all, you just humiliated him and killed a dozen or so nobles.”

“I’m hoping that’s exactly why we won’t be seeing him again,” Markus replied somewhat uncertainly, “Those nobles were his closest supporters, and losing to a much smaller army will make him seem incompetent. With any luck, his younger siblings will use this as an opportunity to make a play for the throne, keeping the whole southern kingdom busy for the next few years.”

“Huh?” Aela looked surprised, “I hadn’t thought of that...”

“It’s just a possibility,” Markus admitted, “Another possibility is that the prince gathers a much larger army before his waning influence collapses and makes another attempt at invasion from the south near Sigrun’s territory, or from the northeast border shared with that other princedom. Efforts are being made to wall off those means of approach, but Sigrun is already busy enough purging the monsters from her territory as it is, and none of Peabody’s merchant contacts wants to deal with the relatively open border.”

Aela frowned, “I thought merchants would love the opportunity for a border like that,” she muttered derisively, “It would make it easy for smuggling, after all.”

“Not with golem supervision,” Markus reminded her, “And I think that’s the deal breaker. Just about everyone else avoids it in favour of more defensible territory or for territory closer to the interior. With the rate of progress being made by the hunters, even the highest level monsters are steadily being eliminated.”

“You could always offer it to the clans,” Aela suggested, “The maps all show that the north-eastern border is mostly overgrown with forests anyway.”

“Would there even be enough chimaeras?” Markus asked curiously, “I know that I didn’t expect for there to be so many as I have come to see in the past couple of months, but are there really that many more?”

Aela shifted somewhat uncomfortably, “I’m not sure,” she admitted honestly, “But there are many clans I have heard of that haven’t shown themselves.”

“You think it might be because they don’t trust my intentions?” Markus guessed with a dejected sigh.

“It’s possible,” Aela admitted, “Setting aside land just for the clans, or ruled over in your name by them, might change that.”

“You do realise that would mean choosing one of your siblings, right?” Markus teased.

“What do you mean?!” Aela demanded.

“Well, there are very few chimaeras I know well enough to even begin to consider giving such a position of power and responsibility,” Markus explained carefully, “Most of those chimaeras are members of your family, specifically your brothers.”

“Oh...right...” Aela awkwardly scratched her wrist, “But I don’t really know anyone else you could put in charge either...” She admitted.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it is what people are bound to notice first. So long as whoever is in charge realises that they will have a lot of work ahead of them to prove their worthiness beyond the blatant nepotism,” Markus explained with a noncommittal shrug, “They wouldn’t be doing it all alone anyway. The golems would help with record keeping and whatnot.”

“You're serious?” Aela asked with mounting optimism.

Markus shrugged, “I want chimaeras and humans to get along, but that is a long-term goal. I think that what you said about giving the clans a place of relative isolation, at least as a starting point, will help convince them of my intentions. The northeast border might not be the right choice though. Having so many chimaeras gathered right on the border might provoke the princedom into doing something stupid.”

Aela nodded in understanding, “So where would they go?”

Markus manipulated the projection artifice to show a birds-eye view of his territory and then pointed to the mountain range north of the great valley, “I could mark out a large strip of land that hugged this mountain range just shy of that border and give the border territory to someone else. After all, the mountains need to be properly safeguarded as well, and chimaeras are much more well suited for the natural dangers than humans are.”

“There are still plenty of forests as well,” Aela noted thoughtfully while looking over the map.

“Unfortunately, there are no cities in the immediate area, but there are a few towns that could be reclaimed and offer strongholds for securing the region,” Markus added, pointing to four different overgrown towns in turn.

“The clans would want to separate somewhat anyway,” Aela agreed, “There are bound to be old rivalries even mother doesn’t know of.”

Of course, there was a silver lining to offering Aela’s brothers the territory. Primarily, that it would snub Magnus. In fact, if Markus took it a step further, he might be able to deliver a blow to Svala as well.

“Aela? Assuming I divided the territory around each of those four towns and gave one to each of your brothers-” Markus began to ask but interrupted rather abruptly.

“Bjorn and Ulf won’t live apart from each other,” Aela stated with absolute confidence.

That raised a minor problem but wasn’t what Markus had been driving towards. “What if I gave part of that land to one of Grisha’s children?” Markus asked bluntly.

Aela froze for a moment before staring at Markus incredulously, “You can't be serious.”

“Hear me out,” Markus raised his hands defensively, “This rivalry between your family and theirs keeps escalating because of your mother and Grisha each believing they should be head of the clan, right?”

Aela nodded, her expression remaining deadpan.

“Well, if I gave Beowulf a territory and one of Grisha’s children a territory, that would be unprecedented right? Each of them would have more than their parents ever had. At the very least, it would discourage the younger family members from mindlessly jumping on board with a rivalry that no longer has any real prestige to it anymore, right?” Markus explained with admittedly undeserved optimism.

“Maybe,” Aela admitted, “It would definitely make the worst of Grisha’s lies about you lose their weight.”

“So long as we can work out boundaries that will avoid giving anyone an excuse for causing more trouble,” Markus insisted, “I think this will work out to everyone’s best benefit.”

“Certainly to theirs,” Aela muttered quietly.

“Someone needs to guard the mountains, and if this will bring an end to the pointless feuding, then all the better,” Markus insisted.

“And you're fine with giving them land after they worked so hard to slander you?” Aela countered heatedly.

“I’m not ‘just’ going to hand over the land,” Markus corrected patiently, “Grisha making penance for what he has done will be part of the conditions. I am not rewarding Grisha, I am ending a feud and consolidating control over my territory.”

Aela gave Markus a dubious glance, “Then what are you going to do about the border?”

Ideally, Markus would prefer the entire border to be governed by a single subordinate. Even if that subordinate further divided the territory amongst subordinates of their own, Markus wanted someone that would be able to provide a unified front in maintaining that border. Unfortunately, there was no one Markus trusted enough to take on the responsibility.

“I don’t know,” Markus admitted with a long drawn-out sigh, “But I am open to suggestions.”

Aela fidgetted for a few moments while working her jaw, “You could poach more nobles from the southern kingdom,” she suggested.

Markus winced. Sigrun and Phillipe’s extended family had already been pushing his tolerance of maintaining the status quo. Besides, he doubted any of the established nobles would give up territory they already owned and forswear their oaths to their king for undeveloped wildlands. Meanwhile, the smaller less established families would lack the resources to manage the required stretch of land.

Sigrun was an experienced Jarl and had no other options, so Markus could trust that she would put their collective interests at a higher priority. Similarly, Phillipe’s extended family had everything to lose if they betrayed Markus. However, in both instances, Markus already knew who he was dealing with, having guarantees of their behaviour from people he trusted.

Who else was left?

“I don’t think I could convince any noble family that would be worth the effort,” Markus explained while shaking his head.

Aela began working her jaw again and became slightly more agitated, “There is one family you could try,” she corrected, “But as you said, they might not agree...”

“Who?” Markus asked curiously.

“The Chavare’s,” Aela replied with a hint of bitterness, “They seemed quite keen on entering your good graces back in Endem...”

Markus froze for a handful of heartbeats as he realised who Aela was talking about, “The Priest...” He moaned uncomfortably.

“Her family are Artificers,” Aela added with minimal enthusiasm, “Like Tina. They would probably sell their souls just to get a look at your enchantments.”

Markus was forced to admit that Aela had a point. The Chavare’s had made several attempts at making contact through Peabody after Markus left Endem, but Markus had made no attempts at reciprocating.

“Would you really be okay with that?” Markus asked dubiously, recalling how jealous Aela had been when Zoe was making overt attempts at recruiting him to work for her family.

“I could live with it,” Aela hissed through her teeth, “Assuming she knows her place and doesn’t come after what’s mine!”

“What’s yours?” Markus asked, suppressing a smile while comically raising an eyebrow.

“Of course!” Aela huffed determinedly before planting herself firmly on Markus’s lap.

“Should I contact the Chavier family and notify them of your intent, Creator?” Ragna asked.

Markus looked at Aela, giving her one last chance to back out.

Aela remained determinedly silent.

“Have Peabody test the waters,” Markus suggested, “If the Chavier family is interested, Peabody can negotiate the terms.”

“The terms?” Ragna asked in its usual unhurried tone.

“My terms,” Markus amended, “If they don’t accept them, then I don’t want them.”

“As you command, Creator,” Ragna replied obediently.

“And let Phillipe know that I want to talk to him about something private,” Markus added with a hint of hesitation.

Ragna bobbed its head obediently, “As you command, Creator.” There was a momentary pause, “Creator. Chancellor Phillipe and Marshal Welard are returning to the castle to provide insights from the battle.”

“I guess that would work just as well,” Markus muttered with a sigh.

“You’re really going to ask Phillipe to do it then?” Aela asked quietly.

Markus slowly nodded, “I need to know.”

Welard and Phillipe arrived sometime after Markus and Aela had migrated to the throne room and indulged in an early breakfast.

For his part, Welard was both chagrined by the enemy's early morning assault and profoundly chuffed with his victory. He seemed to shift quickly between the two states while providing a detailed account of the battle from the perspective of his command.

Phillipe just seemed relieved that the fighting was over.

“I am pleased with your service, Marshal,” Markus stated honestly, knowing that it was important to make sure Welard felt valued in his position. All the more so since dissatisfaction was the man’s primary reason for defecting from his former liege lord. “I feel vindicated in expecting great things from you in the future of our nation.”

Phillipe gave Markus a thankful smile and a nod from behind his uncle.

Welard puffed out his chest and his moustache positively bristled with pride. “You do me a great honour, Majesty! In truth, it is your wondrous artifices of war that deserve the lion's share of the credit! I merely arranged the troops so they were facing the enemy!”

“Even so,” Markus couldn’t help but smile, “I appreciate your experience and expertise all the same.”

Welard somehow managed to puff out his chest slightly further.

“I feel much more confident in affording you the authority to groom a second in command and issue promotions to fill out the army’s command structure to your satisfaction,” Markus added, confident that golem oversight would impede any unjustifiable nepotism.

Welard was positively beaming with pride. “I am honoured beyond words, Majesty! By my honour, I will ensure you have the greatest army this world has ever seen!”

With only a general idea of the threat that was looming beyond the skies of his world, Markus sincerely hoped Welard was up to the task.

By the time Welard saw himself out of the throne room, Hilda saw herself inside to join Phillipe.

Markus’s desire for privacy was from people he didn’t know well enough.

However, before Markus could explain his request, the far doors to the throne room opened to reveal scantily clad chimaera, Akane, and a tall woman wearing strange robes beneath heavily enchanted eastern-styled armour. Downright austere compared to Akane, the woman stalked closer with predatory grace and unfathomable confidence.

Markus glanced towards the golems standing guard beside the pillars flanking the woman’s approach. Not a single one of them made any signs of moving to interrupt her progress.

Aela had already leapt off of their shared throne and was standing protectively in front of Markus while Hilda did much the same for Phillipe.

The stranger didn’t seem to care in the slightest. In the time it took Markus to blink, the stranger had closed half the distance of the throne room and she now stood in front of Aela.

Aela bared her teeth and snarled.

The stranger seemed to consider Aela for a moment before attempting to sweep her aside with an open hand.

Aela caught the stranger’s forearm and stopped the stranger’s strike with an effort both Markus and the stranger found disconcerting. Aela lunged for the stranger's relatively exposed and currently pinned, elbow joint.

The stranger tore her arm free and nearly yanked Aela off of her feet.

Akane had removed the stringed instrument from her back and began to play a hauntingly familiar tune.

Markus felt a surge of panic as he anticipated another seizure.

There was a sudden crash and the music stopped.

One of the golems had ripped the stringed instrument from the chimaera's claws and smashed it against the floor. That same golem was now passively returning to its post.

Markus looked to either side of the throne and tried to order Hector and Leona to protect Aela and subdue the stranger, but could only manage a hoarse croak.

Once Hilda had shepherded Phillipe out of harm's way, she leapt into the frantic unarmed battle between Aela and the stranger.

Aela was going for blood, her movements and attacks a frenzied blur of teeth and claws.

The stranger was giving ground, dancing out of reach of Aela’s claws and occasionally attempting an unarmed strike of her own. However, the majority of the stranger’s attacks were aborted before they could land, making it obvious that she wasn’t interested in taking a hit so she could deliver one of her own.

Aela showed no signs of fear whatsoever, shrugging off each blow as if they were nothing. However, the meaty thuds made it clear that the stranger was an incredibly high-level Warrior, and that Aela would be the worse for wear once her battle rage ebbed.

Hilda was sent reeling by a backhanded blow to her helmet, falling to the ground.

“HILDA!” Phillipe howled and a stream of roaring flames erupted towards the stranger as she danced away from Aela, “Oof...”

Markus watched in horror as one of his golems leapt in front of Phillipe and drove its fist into Phillipe’s gut.

Phillipe crumpled to the floor.

The golem stared down at Phillipe but made no further hostile actions toward him.

Hilda shakily pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. She was just getting to her feet when she noticed Phillipe curled up on the floor. “PHILLIPE!” Hilda stiffly charged across the room hip and shouldering the golem that had struck him down.

The golem crashed into the stone wall and skidded along the floor. Then it stood itself up and slowly began walking back towards its original guard position, ignoring Hilda and Phillipe entirely.

“S-s-s-t-o-p...” Markus stuttered, the effort earning him a throbbing headache and a great deal of frustration. Contrary to his expectations, both Aela and the stranger brought an abrupt halt to their battle across the throne room.

“My shamisen...” Akane lamented while holding the broken neck and handful of strings belonging to her shattered string instrument, drawing all eyes momentarily in her direction.

Whatever had been holding Markus in place and paralysing his vocal cords was now gone, “Who in the abyss do you think you are?!” Markus snarled, jumping off his throne and moving to Aela’s side while activating his mana.

The stranger’s armour was heavily enchanted and had several large concealed jewels powering its enchantments. Markus disabled most of the enchantments and reversed the enchantments that made the armour supernaturally light.

The stranger collapsed to her knees, barely managing to keep herself from falling completely prone.

“What are you doing in my home?!” Markus barked, his temper flaring brighter with every pained breath Aela took.

When the stranger didn’t answer, Markus amplified the strength of the reversed enchantments, collapsing the stranger to the ground.

The stranger slowly began to raise herself up, but Markus only strengthened the enchantment further. There was technically no limit to how heavy he could make the stranger’s armour through the enchantment. However, the enchantments would all fall inert as the mana was drained in order to maintain the armour's integrity. But the stranger didn’t know that.

“What. Is. He. Saying?” The stranger grunted in the eastern dialect.

“He wants to know what you are doing here,” Akane replied somewhat glibly without looking away from her broken instrument, “What we are doing here, probably,” she added absently, “Did they really have to break my shamisen?”

The stranger growled like a feral animal but made no reply.

“Why did you attack my friends?! What have we done to deserve this?!” Markus demanded, a hint of hysteria entering his voice as the continued inaction of the golems continued to wear on his nerves, “ANSWER ME?!”

Markus pushed the enchantments too far and the individual segments of armour deformed under dramatically increased weight.

The stranger cried out in shock and pain, and Markus’s vision turned black as he collapsed to the floor.

Markus woke in a panic, staring at the ceiling of the throne room, and to a lesser extent, the torn jacket and shirt covering Aela’s breasts. The back of his head both ached and felt profoundly comfortable. Judging by the familiar view and firm yet yielding sensation beneath his head, Markus realised his head must have been resting on Aela’s thighs. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he had time to appreciate it.

The clattering sound of discarded metal was dangerously close and setting Markus’s teeth on edge. He tried to sit up but felt a wave of overwhelming dizziness and nausea, forcing him to groan and rest his head back on Aela’s thighs.

Aela looked down at him with concern but quickly turned her attention back towards the source of clattering metal, “They said they aren’t here to hurt you,” Aela explained quietly, “Just to ask you a question...” Her lips curled into a snarl and she glared at the source of the noise, “The golems have betrayed us,” Aela hissed quietly, shifting languages as an additional precaution.

Markus blinked several times as he tried to push back against the mounting pain in the back of his head. Gingerly reaching for the back of his head, Markus flinched when the tips of his fingers came away slick with partially dried blood.

Quiet footfalls drew closer and Aela tensed as the stranger loomed into view above him.

The robes beneath the stranger’s now absent armour were pragmatic to the extreme, fulfilling minor elements of eastern fashion as something of an afterthought. The robe was paired with sturdy pants and cut into folds that prevented the lower section of the robe from impairing her movements. The robe was also enchanted, but its enchantments were all inactive.

The stranger stared down at Markus with piercing green eyes, her pale white skin spattered with freckles over her cheeks and nose, and her thick red-brown hair drawn back in a tight ponytail. Her expression was cold and held elements of contempt and anger, “It’s funny, I remember you being taller.”