Rynisia - (Distant past)

A little girl sat by her parents as their wagon rumbled along a mountain path.

“Mommy! I’m tired. When can we go home?”

“We’re going to make a new home, Ryn. Some place far away, where that icky swamp can’t bother us again.”

“But I liked our old home!”

“I know. I did too. But the swamp spreads faster every year. Pretty soon it’ll be where our house is. Do you want to walk outside one day and find only mud, creaky trees and monsters?

“Nooo!” she squealed.

“That’s why we’re going to find a new home.”

The wagon continued on. The creak and rumble of the wagon wheels eventually put Ryn to sleep.

She woke to frantic yells. She thought she could hear some thunder, getting louder. When she thought it couldn’t get any louder the wagon seemed to fly off the ground with a jolt.

The world tumbled and spun.

Ryn looked around. Rocks of all shapes and sizes lay all around her. A few feet away, the mangled remnants of the wagon were visible underneath the rocks.

She couldn’t feel her arms or legs. She tried to call out, but only coughed up blood. Something was wrong.

Where were her parents?

She started to get lightheaded.

On the ground in front of her she saw a glowing mass of light. It pulsed and grew.

Was this a nature spirit? A faerie? She smiled, wishing she could greet it. She couldn’t wait to tell mommy; a faerie was here to save her.

The light turned green and washed over her.

Rynisia smiled and fell back asleep.

--- --- ---

The Mage Baron Klivari held a public audience today. He sat up straight to keep himself from dozing off.

The majority of disputes would be settled by his court, which was a collection of scribes, bureaucrats and lesser mages. He was only here as a show of power and authority. The imperial leadership was insistent that local leaders maintain a visible presence.

He was native to this fiefdom, but his family had immigrated to imperial lands in his late teens. Shortly thereafter he had been conscripted into military service.

When his latent abilities were discovered, he had been fast tracked into training as a battle-mage.

He had been quick to rise through the ranks.

After the end of the war he had been appointed as a mage-baron at the tender age of twenty six and sent to govern his own homeland.

As the current petitioner was dismissed, a man stepped forward. His cloak was speckled with mud stains from traveling.

He removed his hood, and to the baron’s surprise he was barely more than a youth.

He smiled upwards defiantly, not pausing to bow.

Mildly irritated, Klivari examined him with magic. All appeared ordinary. The young man possessed some degree of magical ability, but so little that it was unlikely he could accomplish anything useful with it.

Loud enough for everyone to hear, he spoke.

“Baron! I reject your authority and challenge you to ritual combat!”

His advisors displayed a mixture of reactions, from open-mouthed shock to badly-stifled laughter.

Klivari leaned forward, “Did someone put you up to this? If so, it’s in bad taste. In the case of a legitimate challenge, I would be honor-bound to accept.

Circumstances as they are, I assume this is some juvenile joke. As such, I will give you the opportunity to recant your statement immediately and leave with no charges to your name.”

The young man said nothing and held his ground.

Klivari shifted in his throne, uncertain what to make of the lad.

“Boy! If you insist upon this I will have no choice but to fight you, in which case I will not be able to guarantee your survival.”

“I insist! Now fight me, or are you a coward?”

No longer mirthful, members of his court now watched with confusion and, in some cases, pity.

“...You brought this upon yourself...” the baron muttered under his breath as he stepped down from his throne.

He had his guards quickly clear the center of the audience chamber, onlookers crowding in from the sides.

Despite his earlier warning, Klivari intended to keep the lad alive, if only to find out why he would attempt something so foolish.

Regardless, since it was a public challenge to his authority he would need to make a show of force.

The lad waited near the center of the room, showing no signs of nervousness.

“Either he is insane, or something is not right…” Klivari knew better than to let his guard down.

He strode into the center of the circle, stopping ten paces away from the lad. He motioned that he was ready.

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The lad drew an unadorned stone dagger and held it at the ready.

WIthout hesitation, the baron filled the air surrounding his opponent with looping threads of magic. As he finished he activated them, causing a blinding flash of light and a wave of heat to blast the area. He intended to stun the boy and cause painful yet superficial burns.

The smell of ozone filled the air.

To his surprise, the boy had jumped back several feet just as he finished the spell. The front fringes of his cloak were slightly burnt and his face was flushed, but he otherwise appeared unscathed.

“He was not only able to see my magic but also predicted its effect. Who would bother to train someone with such insignificant potential?”

“He’s an anomaly.

Do I continue to restrain myself for mere curiosity?”

His combat instincts shouted at him that anything out of the ordinary was a potential trap.

“Whoever you are, farewell.”

“At least my boredom was relieved.” He thought with a grimace.

The lad began to sprint toward him.

Klivari allowed his training to take over and devoted his full attention to defeating his opponent.

Wasting no time, he cast a lightning-fast spell that caused the air around the lad to become highly viscous, trapping him like a fly in honey.

Immediately afterwards, he constructed a complex lattice of enchantments. The first layer he designed to heat all air within such that it would reduce organic material to ash. The second layer would quickly remove excess heat to minimize collateral damage.

This time, no bright flash accompanied the spell. He had optimized the energy usage for effect, not appearance.

The smoke cleared.

As expected, a badly-charred corpse lay on the ground. Klivari sighed.

“Foolish boy.” He remarked.

“Not enough wisdom to avoid this debacle, but just enough skill to prevent me from sparing him.”

His attendants quietly murmured in agreement.

As he began to turn away, he froze.

Where was the stone dagger?

As the thought was crossing his mind, the charred remains evaporated. He shouted in surprise, but before he could react further a form dropped onto him from above, appearing as quickly as the body had vanished and knocking him onto his back.

The young man was exactly as he had been before the fight, his body and clothing indistinguishable.

He held his dagger to the baron’s throat.

“Yield.” He demanded, his voice level and calm.

Aghast, Klivari opened and closed his mouth but produced no audible sound.

“YIELD!” The young man snarled, pressing the dagger threateningly.

Finding his voice, the baron spoke.

“I submit.”

With the rest of the court still recovering from their shock,

The former baron walked out without another word.

- - -

A bespectacled man was seated to the right of the baron’s throne. He was one of the baron's advisors, Lorith by name.

He sat in stunned silence.

The young man dusted off his cloak and turned to him.

“You, advisor. I need a comprehensive summary of all administrative financial and logistical affairs.”

“Who is he, for that to be his first order?”

“...Yes, my Lord.

If I might ask, what is your name?”

“Meyriv.”

“And your surname?”

“I have none.”

The other scribes seemed to snap out of their shocked stupor. He quickly delegated tasks for them to prepare reports for the new baron.

The next day, the new Baron called a counsel with his court, which included the high-ranking members of his staff as well as the three who currently served as the baron’s advisers.

He told them all to be seated, and then produced a stack of papers.

Calling two scribes by name, he asked them to tally some specific ledgers. The two men did so, though with obvious confusion at the order.

After they completed their assigned task, he produced some additional papers.

The baron had a half-smile of anticipation, reminiscent of a predator when its prey had nowhere to run.

“Now, gentlemen…please explain to the court why that total is not the same as the total you recorded for the same ledgers months ago?

Sweat beaded on one man’s brow as a vein pulsed on the side of his head.

The other man took a deep breath and spoke, “I’m sure the discrepancy can be explained if we conduct an in-depth evaluation of the individual line items and—”

“Indeed. Thankfully, I already have.” The baron said smoothly, with a devious smile.

Surprise and a flicker of fear crossed the man’s face, and he sputtered,

“Oh...and what did you find?”

“To your credit, you covered your tracks quite well. But not well enough, as I eventually traced the missing funds to the “New Peninsula cargo company” that just happens to be owned by your family.”

The man’s face fell. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it.

The baron turned to the other scribe, “Your thievery on the other hand was embarrassingly clumsy. Your supervisor should be ashamed that he didn’t catch it.”

He looked pointedly at Lorith before continuing.

“As such...you are both convicted of treason and sentenced to death.”

Both guilty men’s eyes bulged, and there was an audible gasp from the others.

Lorith spoke:

“My Lord, you have aptly demonstrated our need to increase our vigilance in matters of accounting. But, treason? I find it hard to believe that these two had any ulterior objective in mind other than enriching themselves.

To assume that they intended their thievery as an attack on the fiefdom is to attribute far more sophistication to their theft than such petty crimes deserve.”

“You have a point. However, treasonous intent or no, an attack is an attack. I will judge this and any future encroachments on my fief as the same.”

The second man finally spoke up: “My Lord, I only did it so I could pay for my children to be educated! I know it was a crime, and I will pay back everything if you will grant me some time—”

“What a wonderful example of fatherhood!” Meyriv replied mockingly.

“Will your children be proud to know that their education was obtained by stealing from the same coffers that secure our borders so that they can sleep safely at night?”

“My lord, please—”

“Nevertheless...as your children were not to blame for their father’s lawlessness, the debt will die with you.

Perhaps your fate will teach them a lesson no amount of schooling could provide, no?”

Lorith resigned himself that the Baron was determined to make examples of these men. As executions were not typically public, he began to entertain plans to fake the second man’s death and allow him to disappear for a few years—

Until the Baron drew his dagger, spinning it in the air and catching it with flair.

A fine cloud of dust rose from it and sped toward the convicts. As it landed on them, clothes and flesh alike transformed into stone, which spread until two statues stood in their places.

Baron Meyriv individually met the eyes of each remaining member of his court, daring anyone else to speak.

“Court adjourned.”