101. Montovila, north of Valdeno, south of Royaume.
A mountainous region, relatively difficult to bring tanks to.
Orvilo led some of my other guards out of their lightly armored cars to secure the convoy's perimeter. He walked over to mine and opened the door as he kept watch.
I lowered my cane from the armored car, then stepped out.
My initial recovery allowed me to discreetly fashion up new prostheses for myself. Rehabilitation took several more months, but eventually I could walk again. I still kept the cane, and I’ve adjusted my makeup to look a bit more aged. I grayed out some of my black wig’s hair. Unfortunately, faking wrinkles is a lot harder.
Isolus should be a little old by now, after all. Though I’m slightly over a hundred cycles old, I still look relatively young.. I can’t say the same for the others I grew up with. My fake age should be 80 cycles in a few months, so I’ve chosen to disguise myself to be in the early fifties by Earthling standards.
“Ma’am, you alright?” asked Rumina, who also disembarked.
I nodded. “Stay here with the rest of the convoy. I’ll be quick since we have to be back in town and inspect the relief force for the 4th Brigade by tomorrow. They need support.”
“Solomon’s ‘spare parts army’ is doing more effective work than the rest of Pulvera combined with a tenth of the manpower,” she said. “What about the others? Did Anthrax really resign?”
"We'll discuss that later. Orvilo, ask the locals what they need. We'll send the supplies next week."
"Right away," he replied.
My light personal convoy parked in front of a small house – the residence of perhaps the most brilliant person in Pulvera. The one who scored the absolute highest on the statewide IQ exam I commissioned and created myself. Only a few got what I’d call a “passing grade” but this one aced it down to 99% score.
A humble family of five appeared at the doorway to greet me.
The mother couldn’t stop gassing me up with hospitality. They didn’t know who I was, they just knew that the Pulveran government sought their daughter out, who couldn’t be more than 16 cycles old. Her two brothers seemed to be excellent workers, and her father’s a strong mason who built the house himself decades ago. Her mother offered me a type of hot local drink, very close to chocolate, but not quite like the ones Inkunzi would bring to me as a gift.
I asked to be alone with the daughter – they complied.
Her mannerisms weren't of the usual sort. Far from it.
I switched over to an old language I hadn’t really spoken since I arrived here – maybe I’ll ring a bell. It’s the same language I spoke to the foreign troops and students through, in the old world.
“So. English?” I asked, with a tilt to my head.
Her face froze in shock, and then a smile slowly crept up. Her eyes watered up as she stumbled on her words.
“..huh? English; w-wait, are you from–”
“Yes. Forgive my accent, but I fear we must not speak like this. Welcome to Mondo, I hope it is kinder to you.”
I got my small handkerchief, Kantax’s sudariomo, and wiped off the girl’s tears. I shh’d her as she was about to speak that tongue again. We sat down, and I proceeded back to Marbordian common.
“Now, have you been well?”
“I.. have been alright. It’s pleasant here, in a way.”
I wrote a small instruction on a sheet of paper using a Pulveran pencil, and handed it to her. She is to write and thoroughly explain how she knows the answers to the test.
“How’s life in this small town?” I asked.
She was too busy writing her answer, frantically and thoroughly. Her focus was entirely drawn to the essay, and by no time at all she’d already finished writing three paragraphs in full English.
I borrowed the pencil and added the instruction of listing down any technical skills she might have, and to be frank with me.
Despite the speed of her jotting words down with tears in her eyes, her written grammar and concise articulation was honest, albeit informal. The ersatz chocolate cooled; her writings are as follows.
“The simple truth is, I just remembered. I took a number of tests like that back in my previous life, and I guess I aced them? My grades weren’t good or anything. I was a programmer and a writer.”
She scribbled away at the next set.
“Your tests, aren’t they given to every orphanage and school? It’s sad there’s no schools here. When I overheard someone talk about the questions in this exam, I had to break into the orphanage to get my hands on it.”
I nodded and gave a thumbs up to what I could, as I pointed at the specific lines I addressed.
“My life here has honestly been a freezing and festering nightmare. There’s no running water and we eat the same kinds of unsalted slop everyday. My mother wants me to be an orchard farmer, but at least my dad isn’t giving me carpentry work like my brothers are forced into. I love these people, but this medieval life is difficult to get used to. Like, the natural peace that surrounds this place is something I cherish so much but I really miss my phone.”
I handed the note back to her, and burst into a bit of laughter. A freezing and festering nightmare, exactly how I lost both my shins.
She leaned a little closer to whisper something.
“Hey,” she called. “I’d like to ask, are there more of us?”
“No, not really. Just you and me at this point, that I’m sure of. There were others in Mondonian history I suspect. For example the ancient hero Harold; he had the gift of a large magic bag and carried everything with him. He traveled around the world and hoarded wealth, food, and materiel to which he traded and offered things up to the needy. He also transported the equipment of vast armies and is said to have moved small lakes. Unfortunately the story my dad here told me ended stupidly. Something along the lines of Harold getting curious, pulling the walls of the bag inside-out and causing it to eat itself; leaving him to freeze and die in a forest with nothing left.”
I took a sip of the warm drink, and looked at her appraisingly.
“Anyway look, how about you work for me?” I suggested.
“Like, what would you even need me for?”
“Various things. Take your time to study the skills you already have or want, and help me out however you can. And, I’ll have the mages check if you have any magical aptitude.”
She twiddled her thumbs. “Is it..”
“The pay’s good. Enough to keep your family afloat, too.”
“That’s REALLY kickass but I was going to ask if, is it alright if you call me Aspera instead of..”
I choked on the drink a little. “What?”
“Like, like a nickname! I thought it’d be cool.”
“Strange. Fine then. Feel free to call me Isolus.”
“..wait, no way – you’re THE Isolus?”
The locals here were oddly warm with us, up until now. Every other mountain village wasn’t quite like this, they were all grey all the way. They seemed sadder to see Aspera step into the truck.
“They’re going to miss me,” she said. “I found it really fun to help them out. It was like, this one farming life sim I played.”
“It was like a.. what now?” I asked, having barely remembered a few of the videogames my kids used to play.
“Don’t sweat it! I’ll tell you more along the way,” Aspera said as she waved me into the armored car. “Woah, I thought your driver would be a guy. Looks like it’ll be a taco party in here.”
Rumi turned the engine on without a word; from the side profile of her face, she clearly mouthed up the word “taco” in confusion. But I think I understood; the number of men in my personal guard recently dropped from 85 down to 25 percent. Things felt safer this way. And, Aspera needs to learn to stop thoughtlessly using language from the old world.
She and I had a long talk on the way back. She didn’t get along very well with Rumi, despite my attempts to loosen the atmosphere. Rumi stayed quiet for most of the trip. I guess she wasn’t used to someone cozying up to me as much as Aspera did.
There’s several things she’d be happy to help with. She wrote and researched about various subjects as a writer, combined with her familiarity with programming and electronics history might prove useful. Her odd fascination with rations and nutritional values led to a bombardment of questions towards me and Rumi as to what we eat. Rumi hated the standard fare, and I’ve tried not to think about what I put in my mouth so as long as I don’t get sick or starve.
We arrived at the Redoubt. Rumi prepared tea as I showed Aspera some of my initial attempts at radios, and she gave me a list of things she needed. I had everything stocked in the research lab, and I gave her a basic lead-acid battery to work with. It’s the same kind we use on our engine starters and vehicle intercoms. She needed some graphite crystals and copper wire among other things.
Soon, they got acquainted. Just as the tea softened the bread, Aspera softened Rumi by complimenting her as the prettiest person she’s ever met now that they’re face-to-face. There's something awfully fruity with Aspera, because I know Rumi and I are straight. I think she dated Arzo for a while but I haven't asked how that turned out. He's a good pilot and now serves as a trainer for the airmen serving under Major Vemvane in the 3rd Brigade. I still long for the days I spent with Viktor; never really thought of replacing him or remarrying. I still regularly ask myself, what would he do?
And of course I took a slight offense because barely anyone called me pretty here aside from Kantax, Arsalan, and Solomon. I worked really hard on my makeup! But it’s a bit odd that Solomon compliments me the most despite my apparent age.
Rumi left, and Aspera stayed. I locked my bedroom door, had a bit of liquor, and passed out. By morning a few hours later, I woke up to the noise of a prototype wireless telegraph and receiver cobbled up with an explanation on how they worked. Impressive.
…
Stolen novel; please report.
102. Pulvera’s general hospital.
I’m visiting Inkunzi. He drank too much again. The old dwarf never forgave Kylin for what she did to the Ischyrosian coastal cities of Onchiteia and Mylidrus, which he knew deeply.
But he did also, however, appreciate my efforts at international mediation. Over the past cycles of conflicts, my diplomats set up a truce and a subsequent trade treaty between Pulvera, Ischyros, and Kylin’s Jade faction which is now officially known as the Serpent State.
He crashed his old bike, so I got him an aluminum moped.
Speaking of aluminum, our power grid can’t support efficient aluminum production yet. Still, we had access to bauxite and I’ve had to get a new facility to produce expensive yet slightly less pure aluminum through reduction. It’s better than not having any at all.
Nora’s new research team is developing various aluminum alloys while Euryas has been close to popping a vein trying to manage his department, the cost of our Redoubt’s facilities and the separate natural gas plant, on top of Pulvera’s armed expenditures.
I then visited Kat for a regular checkup. He’s one of the few that knows I’m both Isolus and Forlasita, primarily because he’s the one who tended to my more serious wounds the most.
“You are healing quite well!” he said.
“I’m trying. I really am.”
“Do not let it bother you so much. You could not have known that drinking wine might have been why you lost so much heat – even though you seem to know so much already.”
“I mean, I can walk longer distances now! My feet don’t hurt.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Your feet might not be there to suffer, but you have upped your pain relief dosage,” he said. “I also saw a lot of empty bottles during my last visit to your office.”
“It’s just a little drinking, doc. I’m not like Inkunzi.”
“Correct, you are not. He can handle his liquor – but you..”
He gently rested his soft, furry hand on my shoulder.
“For a triple-amputee with an empire on her shoulders, you are handling it all quite well. Everyone looks forward to your recovery. At least I believe so. And I promise I won’t tell your mother.”
Kat turned away and frowned.
I asked. “Is that all? I promise I’ll tone it down."
“That is all. Please take care of yourself, friend. Your liver will heal, but it is your soul that worries me. Though we can help, that is something only you can fix.”
…
103 cycles old. Medino’s grand palace.
The upstart nobles in this city have caused a bit of a racket, which we had to regulate and enforce. The Pulveran constitution is still rapidly evolving to match all the different circumstances we’re running into. And, like any other protectorate city, Medina’s local government units rely on the nobles and merchant guilds to operate.
And in this case, specifically the landowning nobles. Land redistribution has been difficult to assess, but Euryas helped me solve the problem with long-term solutions as well as how to tax them.
Today, I’m here to try their new high-end Kuridono steaks, derived from a large flightless bird. This is a treat from the Medino merchant’s guild. Brigantii’s King Stromberg also attended, along with some Royaume royalty. Not sure why they’re avoiding me. For once, I decided to wear something a little lavish, a simple pink dress instead of a vinylon uniform, but my flair was nowhere close to what the others wore. I did my makeup a bit younger than usual.
The chefs seasoned the steaks with imported spices far south of the plaguelands, hiking up the price. The Kuridono birds are raised on small local farms, and are basically ostriches. I’m not sure, I’ve never actually seen ostriches in person and I vaguely remember them but these ought to be close enough.
It might be a good idea to start Kuridono farms on industrial scales, or incentivize smaller farmers to produce more. Rokmuran rabbit jerky isn’t something I can feed everyone with, after all. Kuridonos are super efficient in turning scraps to meat so why not.
The celebration was to mark the anniversary of a west-Mondo united front against the Plaguehearts. Kylin was invited, but couldn’t make it. Some of the dwarven lords turned down the offer, but some still went. I was really hoping to get both factions together again, damn. I’ve mostly delegated the negotiations to other people and I wanted to do a bit of it myself.
Nightingale, Qistina, and Wiremu played together in rotation with other bands of high renown. I promised them that I wouldn’t get drunk enough to beatbox in front of such auspicious guests. The next band is The Steam Punks, using a bunch of brass instruments.
The sizzling steak tasted incredible, but I felt it could be better. I got a bit of dried butter from my purse along with some salt and pepper to season the sizzling pan to my taste. I kept my liquor to a minimum, just to feel the buzz and to cleanse my palate.
A ballroom dance party began as soon as most people were drunk. This event’s heavily guarded; some of Pulvera’s 7th brigade under Ostracia was rerouted along with the veterans of the 4th brigade. Solomon, its commander, approached me with his dashing officer’s dress uniform. He cleared his throat.
“Perhaps, you would like a dance, madam Isolus?”
A few small gasps around. Murmurs began spreading as much of the dancing began to stop, followed by the lulling of foreign music.
“I’m eating..?” I replied, knowing I couldn’t dance anymore. My prosthetic limbs were far from agile and I could barely run, let alone dance. Solomon only knew of Forlasita’s injuries.
“We may dance slowly, if you wish. I saw you jogging earlier, so I guess your knees are doing well today.”
I honestly want to say yes. I haven’t danced with anyone since..
Several other men approached, greeting me. Hell, even Stromberg himself pushed his way past the crowd to shake my hand. He looks like he’s never starved before.
Apparently they didn’t know who I was, and judging from their comments they’d assumed I would have worn a uniform instead of a dress. The scathing looks from the other noblewomen seemed like they were judging my outfit. Or my makeup, who knows. Theirs were unhealthily white; while mine concealed my scars and freckles. I mean, I had to wear military gloves and boots to conceal my prostheses, but really? Can’t a lady wear what she wants?
Of course they can't. Not here, and not yet.
Besides, ever since Jade’s delegation couldn’t make it, I basically just came here for the expensive ostrich steak.
The rich rabble reeked of various perfumes and glistening outfits, assaulting my senses. A small, elegant woman in an obscenely elaborate dress followed up after Solomon dispersed the crowd.
“Greetings, Empress Isolus. I am princess Shini, future queen of Royaume. I must say, your dress is quite bold, albeit basic. You should definitely visit Aurore sometime. A taste of luxury.”
Was that, a hint of sass just now? And people need to stop calling me 'empress' because I'm not one. Isolus is the Chief Benefactor and Luminary of Pulvera, a Merchant Republic. I guess it's my fault for not strictly picking one. I'll have Euryas and Nora put Chief Benefactor out for the propagandists' papers.
“My, the main course they offered today was meager. The overgrown ducks they have chosen to serve us is, mediocre at best. Even the bland Lumorivan tea – they should have at least settled for the new Jade variety! Hopefully the cakes I brought will save the day.”
Shini walked off in pride in her stride. Personally, I enjoyed the steak. And Rokmuran tea from Lumoriva is quite good. What a bitch.
Aspera sat at my table, and took tons of trezotypes; photographs of all the figures of royalty, various meals, and intricate ornaments. Rokmuro developed celluloid film years ago with my help, I wanted to support them and we needed it for reconnaissance.
“So grammable, such aesthetic.” Aspera said. I don't get it.
The slices of cake were softly topped with sweet icing and fresh fruits, but still behind what I could make with modern ingredients and a KitchenAid. I should get back to baking, again.
Overall a decent event, if not for the explosion outside. An agent tried to sneak in but failed. Had he gotten in, the bundle of suicidal explosives he carried could have killed dozens of us. Unfortunately, three guards died with several more injured. I had a light drink with Solomon on the way out to discuss the mess. I offered to personally write to the families of the service members; the two men and one woman that passed away. Solomon refused.
“Thank you but, I personally knew those three. The bereaved families of Junior Sergeant Onosbo, Senior Private Elba, and Private Poilu would better appreciate a better death gratuity payment in compensation. Have your economist take care of that, because everyone’s going to hear about those heroes. I’ll write the letters myself. I wish all the others I’ve lost could be celebrated this well.”
Blood, guts, and brains were splattered across the charred pavement. Their ammunition packs continued cooking off as the burning smell of flesh mixed in with the acrid aroma of both black powder and our rose-colored smokeless powder. Bits and pieces of their rifles were strewn about. Shredded coveralls; tattered flesh. The nobles averted their eyes.
Fortunately, Rumi was safe in the armored car – which got a bit of paint scratched from the blast. I brought her tea and sandwiches, which she so meekly asked for. Even got her a serving of cake and Kuridono steak in a mess kit. The blast shook her, but she tried to repress the horror. She smiled despite it all..
“Ah, this cake tastes just like home!” she said. “I miss it.”
She took more bites; hands trembling from earlier.
Aspera spoke. “Bet YOUR cake tastes like home too! Right?”
“Okay what is genuinely wrong with you?” I said. “Really.”
Rumi and I glared at her, and spoke of nothing more until we got back to Pulvera. Rumi already lost most of her appetite from the four blasted corpses in front of her, and this just made her pack it away for later. The whole ride, I was thinking about how someone with enough killing intent could waltz up to me with a bomb. It’d be over.
…
104. A beautiful autumn. Pulvera City hits 18,000 souls.
The “Great Demon War” raged on, with Medulli’s surviving regions either succumbing to their own independence during these trying times, or subscribing to our protection and support. We have no shortage of supplies, and have largely dug-in between the Sarissa river that flows southeast and Pike Ridge which rises northwest.
A lack of technical specialists spurred on the need for higher education. The dozens of schools we’ve opened have already increased literacy rates tenfold over the past decade.
Orphanage programs are also largely subsidized or run by the state, often acting like home-taught places of learning. The textbooks I’ve written and mass-produced on various subjects as well as general education courses are sought after in many other nations across the known world, and have since been translated thoroughly.
My first lecture at the new Anthrax Artillery Academy as Isolus starts in a moment. The most advanced school in Pulvera, designed to outshine the elite institutions across Mondo. La Royaume’s Royal Magic Academy and several of Ischyros’ best might struggle to compete with what I’ve planned. Kylin told me about a research institute she’s working on, but I haven’t heard much.
I’ve been exchanging letters more often with Solomon, ever since he gave me an advanced copy of the anthology he book-binded himself from a bunch of rising authors in Pulvera. He knew how much I wanted to see people have the freedom to create, and he wished me the best of luck with my lectures here.
“Welcome! I hope to see your efforts rewarded by the state. Pulvera needs more brilliant minds, and I hope to nurture yours.”
The students here either scored immensely high on the tests I’ve rolled out, or have proven to be rather indispensable to the state. Even Rumina takes a few classes here, and is pretty popular. Our students mostly range between teenagers and young adults like her – but only a few people outdecorate this national hero. Maybe Solomon, Strelya, and Anthrax who I’ve named the academy after. And still, I owe Inkunzi more than any of them.
“Please stop talking in the back over there – our next period will be on the sciences. It is crucial that you all have a basic yet comprehensive understanding of the world around us.”
I was hoping that it would convince Anthrax to serve again, but he’s resigned himself to a farmer’s life, spending his golden years with Nightingale. They left Shoreside Tavern’s operations to Qistina.
“Now, some of those common problem solving questions regarding physics might’ve seemed intuitive, but what about the more difficult ones? Next topic will be on practical applications of arithmetic, and how you’ll need them for your future roles – especially regarding ballistics and aeronautics.”
Unfortunately, Aspera opted not to join due to her ‘trauma regarding academia’ so I didn’t force her. Still, her talents are being practically applied and she studies in my personal library.
During my math discussions, I heard a gentle tapping amidst the pouring rain outside. It was the jar of black slime on one of the shelves, looted from Eschaton’s castle; which we’ve recently conquered. It was distracting at first, but as I kept asking simple questions to the class it became clear that the slime was trying to answer me. It could assess the board and what I had to say. Both Rujia and Arsalan did separately mention various types of slimes, with the dark ones being the most clever.
“I have a guest speaker for this afternoon, Pulvera’s most talented mage. Everyone, say hello to Ostracia; she has several points to discuss regarding the different schools of magic and future applications of the craft that may benefit us all. I bet you’re all eager to hear about her expeditions and adventures, so pay attention! Also, save your questions for later because she’s hard of hearing.”
After the lecture, the students dispersed and Rumi drove the armored car out. Most students had their own mopeds, and some even had their own lightweight trucks – our massive armored vehicle built over a commercial truck chassis might’ve stood out too much.
Still, she could drive it like a dream even on rough ground or weather, as if the lack of powered steering didn’t bother her at all. She dropped me at the central keep, where I now live within the redoubt. Its thick walls and partly underground nature felt safe. I shared my quarters with Ostracia and Aspera. Rumi actually lives alone in a small apartment in one of the new blocks. We had cheap, plentiful housing.
I ran some tests with the black slime, and found that it uniquely understood context clues and could logically analyze certain things. It could learn new concepts, somehow. Its pearl-like nucleus had three dots which served as eyes, I think. Aspera found it fascinating, so I let her deal with it. I’m too busy to care.
There’s still so much work to be done.
This war needs to end soon. Euryas says we can’t afford it, and neither can the Jade. Ischyros doesn’t really care since they’re on another island. La Royaume also can’t afford it much longer, but he says the cake-eating royalty don’t even know that yet.
Not even the escalation of violence is really getting it to end any quicker. We have to break the stalemate, but we can’t with the Plaguehearts’ spreading of miasma.