William liked to think he’d achieved a fair amount in his new life.
He’d killed an ancient aquatic god-beast in the depths of its lair. He’d lead a disparate team of first years to victory against a team with more than three times as much experience – and triumphed. He’d thrown a spanner into the works of a continent-wide conspiracy, delaying the arrival of a devastating civil war by years. And most recently, he’d sat across the negotiation table from a queen and bargained with her as an equal.
It was not a small list of feats. More to the point, he’d performed all of them without much in the way of either regret or hesitation.
It was a task that needed doing and he had been placed in a position to do it. He’d either succeed or fail and there was little point in worrying about which would come to pass.
An outlook he would admit came across as a little… detached, but given that ‘he’ was likely little more than the memories of a long-dead man puppeteering the body of a traumatized child, a little detachment was probably healthier than the alternative.
Thinking too long or too hard on how he’d come to be born into this world could drive a man mad…
…A lesser man of course. He was quite sane.
His goals and methods were simply beyond the understanding of most.
“Yes, I’m annoyed brother. Annoyed at you. And mother. But mostly you.”
Most, but not all.
His younger sister counted amongst the latter. One of the few in this world, and he treasured her all the more for it.
Inclining his head to his sibling as they continued to walk through the grounds of the Ashfield estate – his sibling’s maid trailing just out of casual eartshot behind them – he smiled.
“And may I ask why exactly you’re so annoyed at both myself and our progenitor? As I recall, I’ve broken no promises.”
Indeed, he hadn’t. He’d promised to visit for Winterfest and he had.
Which his sister acknowledged, even as her quiet frown remained in place. “No, you haven’t. And make no mistake, I appreciate that you managed to make the trip. I can’t imagine it was easy to persuade your new… patron to allow you the freedom.”
William resisted the urge to wince at the reminder.
His sister wasn’t wrong. He’d burned a lot of goodwill to make this trip against the Queen’s wishes.
Wishes he well understood the reason for given that he was now quite literally a national asset.
One that was uniquely irreplaceable, given that one of the conditions of his deal with the crown was that the means by which he created non-magical explosives were to be a ‘house secret’ of the newly created ‘House Redwater’.
A house that, as of the moment, consisted of just him.
Which in turn, meant that if anything happened to him – be it an accident, a kidnapping or an assassination - the Crown’s dreams of raising a new fleet of airships borne from the contents of once inaccessible kraken nests was doomed in its infancy.
So yes, the Queen had good reason to be leery of letting him out of her sight for even a moment.
With that said…
“Allow me the freedom?” he laughed. “Just because the Queen has seen fit to allow me to found my own House in the Crownlands doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly become her prisoner.”
His sister’s expression was unimpressed. “In everything but name perhaps. I know that if I were in her shoes, I’d be leery of letting the inventor of my new Kraken Slaying device out of my sight – lest he let slip the details of its creation.”
Young as she was, never let it be said that his sibling lacked a keen analytical mind.
“I didn’t invent the Kraken Slayer.” William lied. “Ignoring the stupid nickname our aunt saddled me with, I had absolutely nothing to do with the death of Al’Hundra.”
“Oh, so you just happened to come across a mystery mithril core just after the beast died?”
“I didn’t say that.” He said as he mentally went through the agreed upon cover story. “Perhaps it was an exaggeration to say I had nothing to do with Al’Hundra’s death, but it’s still also an exaggeration to say I was involved.”
Olivia eyed him. “That is a paradox, dear brother.”
He feigned hesitation. “It’s… you know why I’m being elevated to lead my own house, right?”
“The Spell-Bolt.” Olivia nodded, before grinning. “At least officially.”
“It’s the truth. Or at least part of it.” He leaned down to whisper, momentarily delighting in the interested expression that flitted across his sibling’s features. “Look, I don’t know the details, but when I came up with the idea for the Spell-Bolt, I really was just looking for an edge in the arena. That was it. Same as with the Flashbang.”
The half-elf’s delighted expression stilled a little at his words, to be replaced by something altogether more complicated. As his mother’s heir, he didn’t doubt she was aware of the truth of that little exchange.
“So, I submitted it to my instructor,” he continued. “Patted myself on the back – and then didn’t think anything of it.”
“You invented a new kind of weapon with more range than any bolt-bow or spell in existence… and you didn’t think anything of it?” His sister scoffed, before frowning. “You know what, I still think you’re lying, but that at least tracks.”
William just laughed.
“So, a few weeks pass. Then suddenly I get a royal summons. Naturally, I’m terrified, but before I know it, I’m being patted on the back for the Spell-Bolt and being offered ennobling for my ‘contributions to the realm’.”
Once more, his sibling seemed suspicious. “That seems a little much for just the spell-bolt. It’s useful, certainly, but it’s hardly a peer to something like the Aluminium Refinement Process.”
“That’s what I thought!” He said aloud, well aware that his sister’s maid was listening in and would report everything he said to their mother. “But then a few weeks later I get passed a goddamn mithril core and told that my spell-bolt ‘aided in the completion of an ongoing royal research project’ of great importance to the throne.”
“The kraken slayer.” Olivia breathed. “Your spell-bolt fits into it somehow.”
He nodded, without a hint of shame. “Probably, but I wouldn’t share that around. Obviously, the crown’s keeping a lot of the details of the Kraken-Slayer under wraps.”
“But then why give you a core?” His sister asked. “That practically announced to the world that you had something to do with Al’Hundra’s death.”
William scratched the back of his head. “Honor. Obligation. Intentional or not, I did help with the creation of the device… whatever it is. If it ever came out that the Crown used part of my design in the Kraken Slayer and didn’t compensate me for the result, it’d look bad.”
Olivia just stared, prompting him to continue.
“Plus, I didn’t exactly make it any secret that I wasn’t a fan of Tala or the Blackstones. Maybe the Crown was just hoping to stir the pot a bit with one of their political rivals by granting me enough autonomy to, if not call off my betrothal, then make trouble?”
It was a weak argument and they both knew it. Not least of all because if the engagement had gone through, the Crown would have effectively supplied their enemies in the upcoming civil war with the means to create another airship.
Still, the rest of the story was at least plausible enough that she’d be searching for holes in part of it, rather than thinking the thing was crafted entirely from bullshit.
Not least of all because the story fit with the rumours the Crown had been ‘accidentally’ leaking regarding the secret anti-kraken weapon they’d developed. Rumours that were gradually pushing the belief that he’d somehow created the Kraken Slayer into the periphery.
Not least of all because it was the more believable option.
The notion of the Crown developing an anti-kraken device before then using the proceeds from it to turn him as a catspaw in an attempt to sabotage the Blackstone alliance was significantly more believable than him generating the device himself, killing the squid, and then showing up out of the blue with a core to challenge his fiancé to a duel.
A lot more believable, he thought wryly as he considered the tangled web of events that had brought him to this point.
Still, he didn’t doubt some interested parties would still be more than happy to disappear him for an interrogation on the off-chance he knew anything about the methodology behind the Kraken Slayer’s creation.
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Which was why there’d been a half-dozen invisible palace guards on the Royal Navy Sloop he’d arrived with.
Guards that were watching him even now if his eyes didn’t deceive him.
They weren’t easy to spot, being perfectly invisible, but he could see the indents in the grass where at least one of them was standing nearby. Indeed, he’d come to make a game of trying to guess just how many invisible protectors he had at any given moment.
Four was his best guess, given they worked in twelve hour shifts – and he’d seldom counted more than two pairs of indents at any given moment.
“I think you’re holding out on some of the details, but I won’t push for more,” Olivia muttered.
He smiled. “Good, now that we’ve covered all that, why are you so annoyed at me?”
The girl blinked, going from the heir of the Ashfield dynasty back to the fourteen year old girl she was in just a moment. “I was going to be a duchess! And you wrecked it! And you broke poor Tala’s heart in the process! She was really nice!”
William winced a little. Certainly, he loved his sister but she was still her mother’s daughter. More to the point, while he’d seen little use in maintaining a line of communication with his would-be fiancée, his sister hadn’t.
What was worse was that he couldn’t even fault her for it. The two had been set to be allies in the upcoming civil war and the many years that would come after it. It made sense that their mother’s would want the pair to strike up an accord.
Something Tala had apparently been able to do, even with their long outspoken aversion to anything elven.
“You might have ended up a duchess. Assuming a bunch of other things went to plan.” He sniffed, playing along with his sibling’s childishness. “More to the point, I really didn’t want to marry her. And Mother should have listened to me when I said so the first dozen times. Don’t go whining to me because she forced me into a corner.”
Olivia scoffed, before muttering, “we were hoping you’d come around once you actually met her. Saw she wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
“I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that meeting her only reinforced my desire to have nothing to do with her.”
“And I’m sure you did nothing to sabotage that meeting.” The half-elf rolled her eyes before sighing. “I really wanted to be a duchess.”
“And I really didn’t want to marry into the Blackstones,” he pointed out. “So I did something about it.”
The girl twitched, before a sly smile slipped across her features that he really didn’t like the look of. “Well, in the spirit of fair play, I’m sure you won’t mind that I’ve done some doing of my own.”
He really didn’t like that phrasing nor the implications of it. For a number of reasons. “Olivia, what have you done?”
“Fixed what you broke. I’m now betrothed. Though I’m not supposed to tell you that.”
His heart skipped a beat. “To a Blackstone.”
The girl grinned. “A lesser cousin. Arranging it was a little… tense given your actions, but fortunately for our House, the Blackstone’s pragmatism won out over their personal feelings.”
That was… never mind personal feelings, he could only imagine the hit to prestige they’d be suffering.
“You’re only fourteen,” he croaked.
Olivia sniffed. “Yes, which is why it’s a betrothal and not a marriage. Nothing will happen until I hit eighteen. So we’ll just have to hope old lady Summerfield doesn’t croak before then…”
At those words, William felt some small shred of relief. He’d rather hoped the fallout from his actions would make any further deals between his house and the Blackstone’s radioactive.
It seemed though that the Blackstones were willing to tank the prestige hit – and the questions that would arise from why – if it meant getting another ducal house in their pocket.
…Indeed, from another perspective this could be a good thing, he thought slowly.
The Queen had assumed it’d be another two or three years before the Blackstones had sufficiently recovered from the black eye he’d given their reputation to make any kind of open play at instigating a coup.
This ‘secret’ arrangement though suggested that they were taking a slightly longer approach now.
Something to the effect of four years…
That was good.
In theory.
In practice, he wanted to kill someone.
Specifically, whichever asshole intended to place their filthy hands on his delicate younger sister.
…A power hungry warlord in the making younger sister who was an enthusiastic participant in a conspiracy to overthrow the current government, but his little sister all the same.
Still…
“You realize with how deeply my ‘new house’ is in the Queen’s pocket, that’d put us on opposite sides of any ‘conflict’ that might occur,” he said slowly.
The girl scoffed.
Actually scoffed!
“Please, William, you’re a guy. And your new House doesn’t even have an airship yet. All you need to do is hide in your lands while our girls crush the Royal Navy, and then surrender. The Blackstone’s aren’t orcs after all.” She eyed him, as if reassuring herself. “You’ll be fine.”
William resisted the urge to sigh.
Yes, he loved his sister, but he wasn’t blind to her faults. And while he’d tried to correct them… he was still ultimately the ‘screw up’ older sibling. One whose influence was competing with an entire household full of other people with very different ideas.
“I need to speak to mother,” he said. “She’s making a mistake.”
Olivia’s smugness dissipated as she turned to him. “Don’t tell her I told you about the betrothal!”
He didn’t need to, given that Olivia’s maid had undoubtedly heard everything.
Still, his sister didn’t need to know that now, so he shook his head. “I won’t. I was going to have a conversation on the topic of our House’s future regardless. This just makes it a little more urgent.”
He’d been somewhat hoping that with their relations with the Blackstones soured, his mother would instead seek to reingratiate herself with the Crown. Something his new position would have aided in.
Instead, it seemed she’d chosen to double down on her ducal ambitions.
…Still, that conversation was a few hours from now.
“Alright,” he said, turning to his recklessly ambitious little sister. “I think that’s enough heavy stuff. How about you show me how much your flying has improved?”
Grinning like the girl she was, the half-elf started tugging him in the direction of the lake.
And as she did, William made sure to stay close.
After all, his sister’s maid wasn’t the only set of ears listening in on the conversation he’d just had.
And while this hypothetical Blackstone Cousin might have been hard for the Queen’s Agents to reach, his sister was altogether much more vulnerable.
He really needed to talk to his mother.
Before she got his sister killed with her schemes.
He really didn’t want to have to pick between his family and his ideals. Because he knew in his heart of hearts, if it came down to it, which one he’d pick.
He couldn’t not know.
William Ashfield’s existence just wasn’t that flexible. George wouldn’t allow it.
Couldn’t allow it.
----------------------
“We’ll be over the drop point momentarily, ma’am.”
Griffith acknowledged the sailor’s words with a nod, not begrudging the way the woman stared past at her at the tarp covered object the dark elf was guarding.
Everyone aboard knew the purpose of their mission, and as such were also aware of the cargo they were carrying. A Kraken Killer. Curiosity about it was only natural.
With that said, the orcish woman’s gaze lingered for but a moment before she finished relaying her message. “The captain has requested you begin to prep the… device for drop.”
Griffith nodded. “Understood, my people will drop the device once we’ve come to a hover above the site. I’d recommend she start getting her divers ready, though be sure to remind her not to launch until we have confirmation the Kraken is dead.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
Satisfied her words had been understood, the noble woman closed the door to the ship’s drop-bay, sliding the newly installed deadlock back into place.
Personally she thought the latter item was a bit much, but Yelena was taking no chances with her newest tool. The absolute last thing they needed was an example of the device somehow getting into the hands of their enemies.
Be they foreign or domestic.
The thought of anyone other than the Crown getting access to the Kraken Slayer and reverse engineering it was… well, it wasn’t worth thinking about.
Though with any luck, if the worst were to happen, chances were decent that any faction attempting to reverse engineer the secrets behind the Kraken Slayer would have about as much luck as Yelena’s people were.
Which was to say, not much at all.
Of the Sea Mines William had created thus far, four had been put to use immediately in their intended role, while two had been discretely smuggled into labs in the capital for study.
Griffith had no idea what was going on in those labs, but as far as she was aware Yelena’s people weren’t seeing much success, given her Queen’s mutterings on powders and pig hearts.
Apparently, just having an example of whatever it was that made the weapon work, in addition to a list of the ingredients involved in its creation, wasn’t yet enough for the Queen’s people to figure out the methodology behind their creation.
A methodology that clearly went beyond just… shoving all of the ingredients together.
Honestly, it was a headache that could easily be avoided if the weapon’s actual creator would just share his method, but Griffith wasn’t holding her breath on that front. William Ashfield was a stubborn sort, and clearly absolutely determined to hold onto his ace in the hole for as long as possible.
A move that was perfectly understandable coming from a freshly formed House Head attempting to secure the continued existence and power of said house by maintaining a monopoly on a valuable resource… but still annoying.
More to the point, given the threat of said resource being leaked to their enemies if the Crown attempted to force him to part with it, there was little the Queen or Griffith could do about it beyond playing the long game and attempting to ferret out the Kraken Slayer’s secret surreptitiously.
I know for a fact that the palace guards accompanying him have orders to attempt to observe the Kraken Slayer’s creation process, she thought absently.
Though in truth she doubted they’d have any more success than the boy’s other minders in the six months leading up to his trip back home. Sure, the Queen’s guards had the power of invisibility, but the boy had proven that said ability wasn’t infallible. And until the boy was sure his lab was empty, he’d simply refuse to work.
Griffith sighed as she pulled back the sheet covering the latest Kraken Slayer the boy had developed. Or as he called it, a ‘sea-mine’.
And she could understand the theory behind that naming system. After all, she wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept given the existence of Sky-mines.
What she was looking at now though was no hot air balloon attached to a rope tether – though would admit the form was similar.
A massive spiked ball attached to a weight by a chain, the kraken killing device looked more like some kind of obscure melee instrument than a cutting edge piece of experimental technology.
“Anya,” she called to the nearest palace guard sharing the drop-bay with her. “Help me load it onto the drop ramp. Mary, attach the mermaid net.”
“Ugh,” Mary grunted as she moved past her colleague to grab the rather pungent bag of mermaid guts.
Anya for her part just smirked as she helped Griffith move the Kraken Slayer into place, before moving hastily back from the drop ramp. Something Griffith didn’t blame her for given she did much the same.
Both had menuever-suits on, so neither of them would be too inconvenienced by suddenly being dropped out the bottom of the airship should the ramp drop prematurely, but given said ship’s proximity to the ocean below, there was a decent chance they’d hit the water before they could employ their jets.
Water that will also be filled with mermaid guts and at least one Kraken, she thought with a shiver as Mary finished affixing the net to the mine’s main body.
Sure, there was next to no chance of an adult Kraken rising all the way to the surface to investigate said guts, but even a remote chance was more than Griffith cared to think about.
Kraken had been the boogeymen of elven sailors for as long as they’d been traveling the seas of the world – and even the creation of airships had yet to do away with most elves’ instinctual fear of the great beasts.
She knew for a fact that the captain of the very airship they were on wasn’t particularly happy about how low she’d been forced to bring her ship to safely drop the mine.
…And William sailed out in the middle of the night on a sloop with just a single other cadet for backup to face down the biggest one in history, she thought with a shake of her head.
“Clear,” Mary called.
Nodding, Griffith pulled a nearby lever. “Dropping.”
Even as she said the words, the ramp slid open and the mine dropped out into the open air, before splashing down into the water below.
She knew from up on deck, many of the airship’s sailors would be watching over the bow to see what would happen – along with the ship’s specially selected diving crew.
They didn’t have to wait long before there was a great explosion in the depths.