UNCERTAIN FUTURES
Amari materialized in a flash of white and blue amidst a group of paladins, perched atop the fortress walls, aching and disoriented from what could only have been Gwyn's [Blink] spell. The unexpected displacement had not been kind to her and a rush of nausea and pain shot through her.
She felt the fury surge, a righteous fire in her veins, simmering beneath the sharp intensity of physical agony as she choked down the bile in her mouth.
Betrayal by the one she had been tasked with protecting at all costs tasted bitter on her tongue.
“Down! I need to get down!” she commanded, her voice a ragged snarl echoing above the tactical chatter of her compatriots who were also trying to figure a way out of their predicament.
Staggering, her vision blurred at the edges, she teetered on the brink of collapse. An arm snaked around her waist, halting her precipitous descent towards the stone beneath.
“Evocati! You're wounded.” The paladin stated the obvious, but then his words turned to desperate concern as he asked, “Where is the Honored One?”
Amari ignored him as she screamed out in impotent rage as realization set in that there would be no way to get to her charge.
They heard the arcanic sound of Gwyn using [Blink] again and turned just in time to see her princess’s attack.
“Down there…” she spat out, her gaze riveted to the unfolding carnage below, where Gwyn danced with death amidst a swarm of mercenaries. As she watched Gwyn's lethal grace, her heart stuttered. “Gwyn!”
The young mage cut down the mercenary leader with reckless abandon then raised a hand and cast an orb of draconic flame point blank into the face of another mercenary before flooding the area with a wintering mist that obscured their sight of what was happening.
“Look for a way down!” the squad’s evocati ordered.
Amari watched as Gwyn’s spells lit up the area intermittently in a way that made her realize the princess was leading the mercenaries toward the outer gate. Then the sound and flash of the First Mage’s [Blink] came and Amari knew the princess was outside the walls.
The trapped paladins helplessly observed the mercenaries form up with surprising professionalism as they moved toward the gate while one mage rushed ahead with a magically conjured bow, only for him to get cut down immediately by his own spells as he tried to attack the princess alone with ice magic.
Her mind exploded with Taenya's voice, sent through by Lucian's magic, piercing the veil of her rage. 'Amari! We're en route. What’s the situation?'
Her breath hitched as the icy fingers of pain, previously held at bay by battle fervor, coiled around her consciousness. Crumpling to the ground, she responded as the paladin's grip around her waist the only thing tethering her to reality. 'Injured. Gwyn… she’s fighting a group of mercenaries who appear to be all mages outside the castle. We're stranded atop the walls.'
'Where?'
'The Forest.'
‘Understood. Ilyana's heading your way with a couple of guards and Lord Edele's men. I will go after her. Have the paladins ready to join me.'
Amari looked over at the squad’s evocati, who was watching her with concern. “Ser Taenya and Dolofonos Lucian are heading toward the forest with the Reinhart House Guards.” She hesitated, catching her breath raggedly before continuing, “As… as soon as Baroness Ilyana gets here with some guards that are coming to help us down, you will rush to assist.”
“What about you?” the man asked.
“As much as I wish to join you,” she said with a wince. “I will stay with Lady Ilyana. I will await your return with the Honored One. I don’t care how many Valeni you have to go through. Get her.”
The man slammed his gauntleted fist over his heart. “We will get her, Primus Evocati.”
Time blurred into a fog of searing pain and restless worry, first, as Ilyana and two guards arrived and the mismatched men-at-arms from the castle hoisted a ladder that enabled the paladins to help Amari get down. As they departed, she was helped to a physician who was tending to the injured.
The castle’s bell tower had been destroyed by the assault, but the distant chime of the village’s own bell helped to keep track of time. Even still, she only knew there had been many bells since Taenya had gone after Gwyn.
Bathed in the somber glow of a moonlit night, the castle donned an eerie, silent facade as Amari stood flanked by Ilyana and a duo of House Reinhart guards at the gate.
Her torso was now swathed in tight bindings that were slick with a sheen of sweat. Each pulse of pain felt like a hammer's blow. Her arm was fractured, bandages now covered the stitches where a large shard of stone was removed from her thigh.
She hadn’t even realized it was there.
Ilyana, a seventeen-year-old baroness armored in an ensemble of leather and steel, sported a pair of mismatched swords strapped to her narrow waist. Standing at a modest one seventy centimeters, the young noblewoman seemed an unlikely warrior, yet her indomitable spirit belied her petite frame. Her burgeoning prowess with the sword was undeniable, and Amari found herself silently admiring the girl's tenacity.
The gloom of the forest, a menacing silhouette against the moonlit sky, began to stir. Emerging from the dark underbrush, a faint red glow in tow, was a band of shadowy figures. Squinting against the darkness, Amari recognized the familiar, luminescent form as Taenya’s magic.
“It’s Taenya,” Ilyana announced quietly, her tone filled with hope.
The four onlookers stood in tense anticipation as the band drew nearer, the ethereal bear wrought of Taenya's mana lumbering protectively at her side. As they drew closer, the weary state of the telv knight became evident–her armor dented, clothes ripped and body painted in dirt and sweat, she was the very picture of hard-fought resilience.
“We haven’t found her yet,” Taenya admitted, the weight of her confession threatening to drag the night further into despair. “We did find traces, signs of struggle. We discovered the bodies of the mercenaries she fought, or what was left of them. Though, Lucian is certain she's alive. She was pursued by Valeni but evaded them, and he was able to gather snippets of memories of her using her magic to [Blink] deeper into the forest. Our search continues, and Lucian is with the paladins as they continue to comb the forest. But we needed to regroup, and tend to the injured. We're heading back out soon, we have to hurry before the Valeni gather and attack in earnest to rebuff our incursion.”
Amari felt her heart plummet, a visceral reaction to the uncertainty of Gwyn's fate. Her hand instinctively darted towards her blade, the impulse to join the search gnawing at her. But a restraining hand on her arm from Ilyana quelled the instinctive reaction to rush into the forest to fulfill her duty.
“But there’s something else,” Taenya continued, her voice a low rumble in the stillness of the night.
Amari narrowed her eyes, her gaze boring into the telv knight. “What?”
“The Valeni we fought. They've changed.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Nemura stood on the deck of the smuggler's ship, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The burning, sinking wrecks of the Vlaredian ships were all that remained of this portion of the blockade after her Baroness had unleashed her magic.
Her former countrymen were now either dead or struggling to stay afloat in the cold, merciless sea. All because of Sloane's magic and the destructive capabilities of her creation.
Vesper, the large metal feline golem, stood next to her. The creature was the embodiment of Sloane's ingenuity and power, and clearly a formidable… ally to their small group.
There wasn’t much that sent shivers down Nemura’s spine, but she knew that this… thing would make short work of her, and that terrified her. She needed to figure out a way to fight against people and… things that wielded magic.
The large telv wasn’t used to being so… impotent.
It’s terrifying.
It was good that Sloane’s creation was on their side.
Down in their cabin, Sloane was being tended to by Mariel and Stefan, along with the ship’s physician while the sun elf who held an infatuated fixation on the terran paced the deck of the ship near the stairs.
The Baroness had once again exhausted herself from the excessive use of magic and had passed out. Despite her evident affinity for it, she lacked the endurance to sustain it for long periods. Nemura surmised that this was why Sloane kept creating these golems–to compensate for her lower mental stamina.
We need a larger stock of those potions.
They would soon arrive in Rosale, and despite needing to get Mariel to Dawn’s Rise, and warn them of the cult that had taken root within Swanbrook, they needed to replenish their funds.
She would need to convince Sloane to slow down. They could take their time, and allow the baroness to establish herself in Nornport. They could search for Gwyn there, as they had at every stop so far. Look for more leads from the surrounding areas.
See if they could find more terrans. The further they got from Westaren, the more Nemura was concerned they wouldn’t find Gwyn, and she wasn't sure how to broach the subject with Sloane.
They shouldn’t rush as they could miss opportunities to potentially find her.
She'd long held doubts about the plan to travel to Avira and to seek assistance from the Royal Academy there.
Surely establishing a base of operations and making use of Sloane's growing relationship with the Church would be more worthwhile and more likely to reap benefits.
Her baroness needed to lean on her strengths–business, craft, and connections. They could make contact with the Temple in Nornport, and let them dispatch messages to Dawn’s Rise about the cult. Then, they could take advantage of the time that gave them to establish another Reinhart Center in the city with the assistance of the lord.
It made sense.
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Then they could continue on to Calling to deliver Mariel to the Church and safety.
Their journey had proven to not be one for a child, and the risk to the girl was high. Moving slowly and with a sure plan each step of the way would be wise.
Just have to convince Sloane.
She glanced down at Vesper who stood next to her, the onyx eyes searching the sea for any threat.
It would also give Sloane more time to work on her craft. They could certainly use more of her creations. More things that they could all use. Focusing on expanding their arsenal would be a good reason to take a breath and figure things out without some threat looming over them.
Rosale was safe.
She also needed to gently tell Sloane that her… caster was nearly worthless as a weapon. It was too slow.
Maybe I can frame it in a way that will spur her into making something new.
Yes… that could work, and a way to convince her to slow down.
Nemura took a deep breath, her thoughts drifting back to Yemina. The paladin's death was a waste, a needless loss that could have been avoided. If only she had listened and had seen the obvious signs of betrayal.
But despite their overwhelming martial might, the paladins were often blinded by their faith in Alos.
Too much time spent staring at the sun.
Her heart ached with a mix of frustration and sorrow. Yemina had been a formidable warrior, her skills unmatched even by Nemura. But her stubbornness, her unwavering faith in her comrades had been her downfall.
It was a bitter pill to swallow and a harsh reminder of the realities of their world.
“Relena, bring her peace,” Nemura whispered. She could only hope that the goddess would guide Yemina's soul to rest, to a place where there was no more pain, no more betrayal. Possibly even in the Father's heavenly service.
With a final glance at the burning ships, Nemura turned away. There was nothing more she could do for Yemina. All she could do now was focus on protecting those who were still alive, those who were depending on her.
To stand at the side of that amazing woman with a heart of gold who would do anything to find her daughter.
And Nemura would do so with all her might, for as long as she was able.
✦ ✦ ✦
Ensconced in the grandeur of his office, Crown Prince Kerrell sat in contemplative silence opposite his wife, Princess Aiyanna. The resplendent furnishings around them did little to ease the weight of their discourse. Their children, the embodiment of royal expectation, had posed challenges that tested their strategic sensibilities.
“Aran will sever ties with the terran girl henceforth,” Kerrell assured Aiyanna.
Though devoid of marital affection, Kerrell acknowledged his wife's intellectual prowess and her political savvy that set her apart from the typical noblewoman. It was the reason his mother had handpicked her, after all.
Aiyanna was as cunning as her mother, yet fiercely devoted to her children–a potent combination.
“Aran has displayed uncharacteristic obstinacy this year,” he continued, recalling the report from the knights assigned to the prince of an argument his son had with Varek. A boy who had let his newfound status as a noble go to his head after his adoption.
Aiyanna harbored no fondness for the boy, and his recent adoption and flirtations with mind magic only exacerbated the tension. The terran princess had been his first public target, a fact brought to light by the paladin, which despite her distasteful arrogance, had given the Royal Knights a much-needed warning of the boy’s abilities.
Responding swiftly, Kerrell commissioned the Royal Enchanters to craft an amulet that could detect the use of mind magic.
That boy would be dealt with accordingly should he dare to menace Kerrell's offspring. Sharing a knowing glance with Aiyanna, he saw his thoughts mirrored in her stern gaze.
Aiyanna, abruptly breaking his train of thought, voiced her concerns over Elora. “Our daughter has been overly… guided by emotion lately,” she admitted.
“And you've addressed it?” Kerrell queried.
A nod affirmed her actions. “Indeed. Her dispute with the Tiloral girl is manageable, unlike Aran's relentless provocation of the princess,” she lamented. “They are still young, Kerrell, but their behavior disappoints me. This could have been avoided had you not incited their antagonism towards the princess.”
“Yes, I did instruct them in that regard, but they took it upon themselves to exceed my instructions,” he defended, pointing out the children's autonomous decisions.
“Perhaps your constant need to spark a rivalry between them for the crown fuels this disobedience?” Aiyanna countered, her voice laced with bitter truth.
He dismissed her claims. “They are aware of the stakes. Elora is brash, which I admit she gets from me. All she needs is direction. Aran, however, appears to be crafting a strategy of his own. It's surprising you haven't noticed.”
Frustrated, Aiyanna demanded clarification. “Kerrell, spare me the riddles if you know it. What is his plan?”
A smirk danced on Kerrell's lips, appreciating his son's cunning strategy that appeared to befuddle others.
“Let him have his secrets. If you do not learn of it soon, I will tell you what I suspect.”
His wife sighed and moved to the next topic of her frustrations. “And now your father has forced us to acknowledge that girl's status,” his wife continued unabated. “Why did you seek to tie her to us? You pledged our spare child to her. Why would you do that?”
He dismissed her concerns nonchalantly. “It was merely a discussion with her Knight-Captain, Aiyanna. A potential alliance with that girl is worth considering, even if it implies marrying Aran or Elora to her.”
Aiyanna narrowed her eyes. “You would have Aran or Elora wed to a girl that could have killed our son?”
“I would in a second if it meant expanding the kingdom and our influence, Aiyanna. That girl reeks of power. If we do not curtail it, then we are at risk. That is why…”
Their conversation was halted by the imposing sound of a knock echoing in the grand chamber. A dutiful servant slipped through the door, his voice subservient yet firm. “Your Highnesses, a guest seeks an audience with you.”
At the unexpected announcement, Aiyanna swiveled to confront the servant. “Who dares disturb us at this hour?” Her voice was sharp as a honed blade, edging the silence with its frosty tone.
The door swung open wider, and a chilling presence infiltrated the room.
“I am the one who dares, my dear daughter. We have matters of import to discuss.”
A viper had entered their royal den.
Aiyanna turned on the intruder, her gaze fiery and incensed, an unspoken challenge glittering within. Kerrell found himself entranced by the raw ferocity his wife exuded.
There was an almost feral allure to her in these moments, venomous, yet irresistible.
This was precisely why he tolerated her brazen tongue.
“What do you want, mother?” Aiyanna's voice seethed with venom. “Can you not discern that we are engaged in private matters, or do you hold the Crown in such contempt?”
Countess Racine merely smiled, her stride sure and unperturbed as she claimed the room.
For all the contempt he harbored for his mother-in-law, Kerrell was well aware that dispatching her would only beget problems he didn't care to invite.
“I merely seek an audience with your husband, dear daughter of mine,” Countess Racine's voice coiled around the room, undeniably holding the tone of someone who was used to command.
One of Kerrell's brows arched in curiosity. “Speak then. What brings you here?”
The words that followed were a cold shock. “Your scheme to capture the princess has failed, Kerrell. She also decimated all of the mages that you sent. Although I concede that your foresight to erase their identities was prudent, your failure has earned the wrath of three factions.”
His eyes narrowed, digesting the news.
He had yet to receive a report from his dispatched soldiers.
They were expressly ordered to not harm the princess…
Undeterred by his silence, the Countess continued her rebuke. “Even now, the paladins are conducting their investigations. My fellow nobles are far from pleased with this assault. You've overplayed your hand, Kerrell.”
Her voice rang out, an unwelcome prophecy of the impending storm.
“And the princess?” he asked.
His wife rounded on him. “What did you do, Kerrell?”
He waved her off but his mother-in-law chuckled. “He attempted to neuter the growing influence of the princess by having her kidnapped and ransomed. It may have worked, if not for the girl’s brutality. They did manage to separate the girl from her paladins, and yet she still won. She annihilated them, Kerrell. Alone. And I’m glad I was there to witness it because now I know that I need to ensure Varek avoids her ire.”
“Varek needs to avoid our ire, Mother,” Aiyanna snapped. “If he goes after my children, I do not care if he is my adopted brother. He will die.”
Countess Racine scoffed. “No need to get all testy, daughter. He knows not to do anything against either of the twins. After all, they’re related.”
His wife narrowed her eyes, but he cut in to avoid the impending argument. His wife did not consider that boy related to her.
“Why are you telling us this, Countess?” Kerrell asked.
He knew she wouldn’t do anything out of the goodness of her heart, no matter if her eldest daughter would one day be queen.
“Because, I can’t have you dying before you are crowned king, my dear boy. After all, there is still a duchy you promised me. If the Tilorals are tossing away their long-held neutrality in our Game, then I stand ready to fill the void.”
Kerrell felt a chill flow down his spine.
He needed to check the growing power of the Tilorals, but there wasn’t much he could do at this moment in time. All he could do was continue to increase his own influence, and expanding the kingdom would do that.
I can be patient. An opportunity will present itself. They always do.
✦ ✦ ✦
Alyce Maxwell strolled alongside King Tanyth Dal'or, her steps measured and unhurried. They were in the heart of Calling, the capital, touring the Royal Arcanum. The grand collegiate of magical minds of all sorts would one day help expand the kingdom's power and wealth, establishing Rosale as a center of magical progress, but today, their focus was on something far more practical: the kingdom's defense.
As they moved through the vast complex, they observed the diligent work being done to arm the kingdom's soldiers with more potent weapons. The threat of encroaching monsters had increased drastically over the past year, and the heart and borders of the kingdom were under constant threat.
Their tour led them past rows of repeating crossbows, their surfaces etched with glowing glyphs–or runes as the prevalent vernacular was–that hummed with latent power.
Alyce watched as the weapons were tested, their bolts flying true and fast, each one imbued with a destructive force that would make any monster think twice.
They were shown a plethora of enchanted items that would help their army, items that Alyce had played a large part in guiding.
But today was not about her, for she was not the director of the Arcanum, she was the King’s Lead Advisor on Magical Affairs.
Once the tour concluded, Alyce and the king returned to the palace.
As a trusted advisor and confidante to the king, Alyce was privy to his deepest concerns. They settled into comfortable chairs within his private office, the weight of the day pressing heavily upon them.
“Everything is closing in around us, Alyce,” King Tanyth confessed, his voice heavy with worry. “The army is still battling monster attacks from the Heartwen Woods.”
The sun elf king looked weary, the strain of the ongoing conflict etched into his features. Alyce watched him, her resolve hardening.
She wouldn't let her new kingdom fall.
They’d given her a home, and he had given her hope.
“And Dawn's Rise?” she asked. “What of the paladins? They promised their aid.”
Tanyth sighed, his shoulders slumping. “"They're still engaged with the monster horde that decimated Fourglen. They’ve given what aid they can to protect the towns and villages south of the woods, but that is all they can do at this time.”
Alyce closed her eyes, a pang of sorrow coursing through her. Fourglen had been a Sovereign City, a mere fifty kilometers from the Rosale borders. A monstrous horde had emerged from the nearby forest and mountains, laying waste to the city.
The survivors had retreated to their fortress, holding out against the relentless assault until the paladins had arrived.
That had been months ago.
“They're still fighting?” Alyce asked in a low voice. “The paladin army numbers in the thousands.”
Tanyth nodded. “The horde has flying beasts now, gryphons from the mountains. Creatures from our myths are now a reality.”
Alyce took a deep breath, her mind racing. “When Wanderlust is complete, we can fight off these gryphons. I’ve designed weapons similar to what I can recall of my world that will befit her abilities. But she may not be enough on her own.”
Tanyth agreed. “Once the ship is ready, you should tour the kingdom. Reassure the people. The war is at our borders to the north, monsters are in our heartland and our eastern borders…”
Alyce reached out, placing a comforting hand on Tanyth's. “I will do what is needed. Your people are my people now. I've lived here for over two years, after all.”
She took a deep breath, feeling a sting of tears in her eyes. “Rust, Tanyth. Everything was going so well.”
He nodded with a determined glint in his eyes. “We'll come through this stronger. I have faith in our people. I will ensure you are well protected when you go, but until then, let's keep at it.”
Just a bit longer, Katy. Then I'll come find you, sister. I just have to keep somewhere safe for us to come back to.