“You didn’t need to come so quickly my lord,” one of the mages said as Orlan watched over the preparation of the divination table. A map of the eastern coast of the united states rested under a pane of glass, bits of dirt and plant matter were scattered were scattered about on top of the glass seemingly at random. A single tall thin nail stuck up from the four corners of the map while the mages pulled out crystals and placed them around the perimeter of the map.
Orlan didn’t reply, simply scowling at the map as it was prepared. If one of his bonded knights had been taken he could have lead them to her location by himself, but instead they were forced to make use of this arcane divination array. The dirt and leaves had been taken from areas displayed on the map and had been placed as close to that location relative to one another to form a crude representation of the region represented. Crystals of various attuned mana types had been placed that matched the missing knight’s mana, allowing the array to filter out other the mana of others. Finally each of the nails had a single long strand of the knight’s hair tied around it.
The theory was to fool the aether around the map into thinking the representation was the real world. Then, using the bond between a lock of hair, freely given, and the knight in question, to make the hair attempt to return to its source. It was a crude technique requiring a dozen stacked spells to work in unison without disrupting one another, but it should at least give them an idea of where the knight was being kept.
The aether map spell had actually be developed originally to detect rifts, the wizard who designed the spell hoping the aether within the spell would also show disruptions indicative of a rift. Surprisingly it did, however the distortion on the scale of a tiny map were too small to detect. The spell with the hair was a modified version of a standard dousing spell, where a mage would use a small amount of a substance to lead the way to a larger amount of that material. Obviously this version was designed to seek out the source or owner of a strand of hair, but the principle was the same, and suffered from a similar issue of scale when used without the aether map. Simply put the further away the source was, the less reliable the dousing was. This was mitigated somewhat by the map set up, but it could best be described as jury rigged.
Amusingly the spell was first developed by village mages to track down lost livestock, but worked just as well at finding people.
Orlan simply watched silently as the mages began stacking the spells, forming the aether map and casting the spells on each of the strands of hair. The hairs began to move, as if blown by a light breeze, flicking back and forth in a chaotic motion. Unlike a true wind, however, every one of the hairs pointed inwards, crossing one another in a way impossible for proper air movements.
“We don’t have enough reference points for a proper reading,” one of the mages said as the hairs moved about, referring to the bits of dirt and plant matter, “we’ve only a half dozen points for the aether map, it should work but for a map of this scale I’d normally recommend twenty to thirty samples.”
“And with how weak the aether is the dousing spell is more chaotic than normal,” another added.
“Still looks like it’s settling in around this Washington place,” the caster said, “I’d imagine if she wasn’t taken there, she’s in the region.”
“The capitol?” Orlan cursed to himself, if true it meant she’d been taken by the US government, “can you redo the test on a map of just DC and the surrounding area?”
“We’d need to collect more samples, specifically from that area,” the diviner said.
“Do it, take one of the cutters,” the Protector Lord said, turning to leave the room without waiting for a reply.
“What are you planning to do now?” Lailra asked once they were out of earshot of the mages. She knew Orlan well, better than anyone else quite likely, and while he seemed mostly calm she knew, underneath, he was close to boiling over. He’d practically stormed out of the podcast and rushed back to the protectorate, knowing that his presence wasn’t needed to assist the divination.
“I’m going to ask them directly,” he growled in response.
“Wait, my lord,” she said, placing a hand on his arm to stop him in the hallway of the castle. He spun and his fierce gaze landed on her, anyone else might have frozen in fear from the intensity of his anger hidden within his eyes, but she knew he would never hurt her. He was angry but he trusted her, “these United States don’t seem to respond well to pressure. You might want to try a less direct method.”
“Like what?” he asked, his anger still simmering but he knew better than to dismiss her advice.
“It seems to me that the representatives who run the government care more about their appearance than anything. Demand they hand her over and you’ll only provoke them, they can easily deny they have her while accusing you of threatening war. It seems to me that it would be better to go after them indirectly,” she said with a feral grin, her own anger at one of her sister-knights being taken showing.
\-\-\-\-\-
“So, what’s the analysis of this Orlan?” a tired sounding man asked a room filled with other tired people. Theodor had spent decades working his way up the bureaucracy, assisting in election campaigns, organizing committees and the million other behind the scenes tasks needed to run a government as large as the United States.
“The background check didn’t turn up much of interest,” one of the others spoke up, “his father died while he was in grade school in an industrial accident, his mother passed a year after he vanished from a stroke. His only surviving close family is a sister who currently has a family of her own, including a son named Orlando.”
“Were they close?”
“No idea, he vanished before social media was wide spread so we can’t exactly look online,” the younger man shrugged, “I managed to contact a few people who knew them in high school, but didn’t find anything definitive.”
“What about his personality?” Theodor asked.
“A couple of his teachers described him as ‘intelligent but undriven,’ average grades, no incidents of note. Even in college he went to a local university and hadn’t declared a major before disappearing.”
“That’s not how he is now,” another analyst spoke up, “I’ve been looking into footage of him and he seems very driven now.”
“Something happen on the ‘other side’?” Theodor asked.
“Probably, not that we could tell if it had,” the analyst replied, taking a sip of coffee, “from what little footage we have of him he seems generally friendly but extremely driven to fight these monsters and protective of his knights.”
“What makes you think that?” someone questioned.
“That he’s protective of his knights? There’s video footage of him fighting in Boston and Jefferson, several times he puts himself in danger to protect them, intercepting attacks, drawing attention to himself and so forth.”
“What about his power?” Theodor asked, changing the topic to the real reason an entire group had been gathered to discuss one man.
“It’s… unreal,” a woman said slowly, “we have footage of him running faster than a car, both in short bursts and extended periods, topping out around forty miles per hour at a minimum. His spear easily puts holes in solid steel, he’s been knocked through reinforced concrete walls and emerged uninjured. And that’s just his confirmed strength, we’re having trouble analyzing the footage from his congressional meeting, one moment he’s in one place then, with a step, he’s across the room. It’s not quite instant, there’s a two or three frame gap but in that gap its like he simply… doesn’t exist.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“Could he be telling the truth when he calls it magic?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “we’ve been trying to figure out his magic, but it seems too inconsistent. Sometimes he, or his knights, need to summon a glowing circle in the air to use their magic, other times they don’t. We think there’s a limited number of… spells for lack of a better term that each individual can cast without ‘casting’ it, but it seems each person has a different selection.”
“He’s supposed to be on Bob and Rob today, right?” another analyst said, “maybe he’ll get into it then.”
“He should be on there right now,” the woman agreed, “some of our aides are ensuring we have a recording of it but it’ll be a while before we can fully analyze it.”
“From what you know now, how would you rate his combat ability?” Theodor asked.
“I’d put him on the level of a battle tank. He’s fast, durable, and can unleash immense carnage in a short period of time. From the reports from the rangers who encountered him small arms fire is completely ineffective. Oddly, attacks that should have been weaker than a gun have done actual damage to him. They’ve all come from those portal creatures so my only guess is that there’s something that allows them to bypass some of his toughness.”
“Scientists are currently looking over materials recovered from Jefferson, along with what he handed over to congress, but initial reports are they don’t act like normal materials,” Theodor said, pulling out a piece of paper, “their words were… ‘materials demonstrated strength far greater than their material composition would suggest.’ But they haven’t mentioned anything on why that is yet.”
“Then his ‘magic’ suggestion likely isn’t wrong,” the man responsible for analyzing Orlan’s personality said, earning a few glances, “I’m not saying it’s magic, but it could be something not fully understood.”
“Long ago people didn’t understand why cooking food was necessary, but they did it anyways,” someone said, “they might as well have called it magic.”
“For the moment we’ll use his terminology,” Theodor decided, “but besides that, he’s driven, protective of his people, and effectively a walking battle tank. Anyone disagree with that assessment?”
Theodor asked, looking around the room, waiting for anyone to speak up. A few of them were looking through their notes for anything else important to add but after a minute no one spoke up. Taking a breath Theodor was about to move on when the door was thrown open.
“Sir! You need to see this!” an intern shouted, panting, “put on the news!”
In shock Theodor grabbed the remote for the small TV in the corner of the room and flicked it on to a random news channel. He took a breath when he saw Orlan, in full armor, standing before a growing group of reporters.
“Isn’t he supposed to be on that podcast?”
“Something happened and he rushed out about an hour ago, one of his people going missing. Then… he suddenly calls a dozen different news organizations and calls this conference on the outskirts of DC,” the intern explained.
“One of his people went missing?” Theodor asked, a hint of fear creeping into his mind. There’s no way the CIA or anyone would make a move yet, right? Their teams had to be at least as good as his, so they should know he’d be protective. Were they trying to provoke him? While Theodor had no doubt the full might of the US military could take this Orlan out if needed, it wouldn’t look good for them, attacking a man who’d helped them with such force. And if he publicly accused them of kidnapping one of his people… the mere thought of it made Theodor’s blood run cold.
“A short time ago I got word one of my knights in training went missing,” Orlan spoke, his eyes burning with a barely contained anger as he stared directly into the cameras, “she was on a mission to hunt down monsters that escaped the initial battle during the Beast Rift near Jefferson. My knights searched for her but were unable to locate or track her. Through magical divinations we have determined she is likely in the DC area and are currently working to narrow it down.
“My message is to whoever kidnapped her,” Orlan continued, “release her. If, by the time we find you, she isn’t free then you will not survive the encounter. I assure you, nothing you can do will stop us.”
As he spoke the space around him seemed to crackle with the force of his anger, strands of purple lightning snaking through the air. Many of the reporters who’d been closest were taking steps back, the force of his wrath forcing them back. Even through the TV broadcast Theodor felt his heartrate increasing, as if the division between them couldn’t keep him safe.
After a moment glaring Orlan turned and walked off, a few brave, or perhaps foolish, reporters attempting to shout questions were ignored before it switched back to the anchors who looked a little shaken themselves. Theodor quickly muted the TV before they could speak.
“He didn’t directly implicate us,” he said.
“He didn’t need to,” an analyst replied, “who else has the capacity to kidnap one of his knights and bring her to DC?”
“Assuming he’s not bluffing,” another spoke up, “his only evidence was a ‘magical divination?’ I’d put that at one step up from ‘trust me bro.’”
“He’s no reason to lie, if anything if he wasn’t certain it would be in his interests to not say she was in DC.”
“I’m not sure he’s politically astute enough to act so… calculating,” the personality analyst said, “he’s more the barge in first type from what I’ve seen.”
“Quiet!” Theodor shouted, silencing the others, “why do you mean he isn’t political astute?”
“In his first interview with that reporter he started good, but blundered into their trap. Part of that was due to not knowing about the people who’d died after being healed, but he held nothing back. Immediately issuing orders and outright demanding information from the reporter. Before congress he was easily angered, and his answers were often short and direct, without qualification. Not something one who’s interacted with politics often would do.”
“But he called this conference and implicated us without outright stating it,” Theodor pointed out.
“That’s my issue, it’s not in alignment with what we know of him.”
“Perhaps one of his knights advised him?” another analyst offered.
“I don’t see how, in all the interactions we’ve witnessed he cares for them but they haven’t offered suggestions unless directly asked.”
“In public, its often said to not question your leader where others can see or hear,” Theodor said, “could they be advising him in private?”
“It’s possible,” the analyst admitted, “but even if they did, they aren’t from this world so I even if they were political experts on the other side, they shouldn’t be able to come up with a plan like this.”
“So, what, you think he’s hired a publicity firm or something?”
“That’s not important right now,” Theodor stepped in again, “focus on his missing knight, contact the president, the pentagon, anyone you can.”
“To go from Jefferson to DC in a couple hours they’d have to fly.”
“Good, look up chartered flights from near Jefferson to DC in that time, private aircraft, anything!” Theodor said, standing up, “we need something, anything. How can we handle this?”
“I believe he’s telling the truth that he’ll tear through anything in his way to get to his missing knight,” an analyst spoke up, “he’ll avoid civilian casualties but anyone who stands in his way is liable to be torn apart.”
“What about optics, how should we recommend the government respond?” Theodor asked.
“I’m not sure we should,” someone else said, “doing so would tacitly imply we had something to do with it. More importantly, if we are involved, we shouldn’t say anything that would hinder the operation.”
“Damnit,” Theodor cursed, the biggest issue with having a big government was that it was hard to communicate with all of it. For now the best they could manage would likely be a ‘we’re still gathering information’ response.
\-\-\-\-\-
“We’re still gathering information,” the white house press secretary said in the emergency meeting on the grounds of the white house, “this is news to us so I just can’t say any more.”
“So you’re saying the US government isn’t involved in kidnapping one of Orlan’s knights?” a reporter shouted.
“I feel I was pretty clear, we’re still gathering information,” the press secretary insisted before walking away from the reporters, ignoring the shouted questions.
“Can they really be this incompetent?” Lairla asked, looking over the phone alongside Orlan and a number of other knights in the cutter that currently hovered over the Potomac River.
“They could be simply pretending to not know anything,” Nalia offered, “it would buy them time to come up with another solution.”
“Or they don’t actually know anything, but suspect they might be involved,” Lailra replied, “if they were certain they weren’t involved why not say so? This indicates that they at least suspect that someone in the government could be responsible. If there is and we reveal it, then they can claim it wasn’t a sanctioned act and cut ties with those responsible. And if they aren’t involved they can claim no knowledge of it from the start.”
“So we learned nothing?” Orlan groaned.
“We learned plenty,” Lailra said with a feral grin, “we learned that they at least suspect that the government is involved, and are afraid of stepping on that group’s toes.”
“I find it hard to believe that he leader of the nation isn’t aware of what is going on,” said Nalia, “Can they really do things like this without permission?”
“I’ve no idea,” admitted Orlan, “I wasn’t big into politics on this side and don’t know much about how the government operates.”
“Trust me, no one here thinks of you as a politician,” Lailra said with a softer smile, patting him on the shoulder, the gathered knights chuckling despite the situation.
“What’s the status of the divination?” Orlan asked, breaking the good mood.
“The other cutter is on the way back to the protectorate with the samples. We should have a better location within an hour or two.”