Eli POV

For the first time in far too long, I had the warmth of another person against me. Stretching as the wooden ceiling above came into focus, I looked down to see the top of Gula’s head laying on my left shoulder. Her bowl cut of black hair played across my white shirt and leather vest while a bit beyond those onyx strands her green hand rested on my belly. All accentuated by her feminine curves pressing through my clothes. Despite all my experience in design and construction, I couldn’t match God when he put that little extra something into women.

Looking around, I saw the faint star light of a too early morning through the window behind the desk on my left. Too early yet getting far too late. Sighing, I did another stretch before shifting a bit under my Orc wife. A slight ache worked through my body in protest of these motions, but the food stocks needed filling. I went over how to gently wake her up when her head shifted a bit, informing me that she was already in the land of the living.

“Gula, if we want the people to not starve to death, I need to get out on the water while there’s still a decent catch.”

‘Hmm,” She mewled like a cat. The resistance of the bed, and hopefully my body, was a mighty wall to break through but she was a dutiful woman.

“Fine, Eli.”

Her hair shifted as she looked up, those golden eyes filled with passion and longing even while her left eye’s vertical scar scrunched with her furrowed black eyebrows.

“I love you,” Was all that came from between her lips for a moment before she leaned up to kiss me. Her white shirt and red over coat did nothing to hold her back as she stole lips. Spicy vinegar flooded my mouth and her sharp small nose rubbed on mine before we both pushed ourselves up. Getting ready for the day looked like it would take a bit longer than usual, as my green wife insisted on keeping pressed against me as the bed was gradually vacated. Little ‘I love you’s’ were bouncing off the walls along with sucking sounds before we moved closer to the desk.

I intended to ignite the candle to get some proper light in the cabin, but Gula had other plans when she sat on the desk. Before I could turn to the side with the drawers to retrieve a match or flint, she pulled me against the table with a strength unbecoming her almost lithe form. There I was, straddling the Orc who proceeded to cling to me and pummel my lips her own soft kisses. It was heaven trying to keep me from the mortal affairs calling . Starting a spirit connection, I proceeded to do the last thing I wanted to happen.

‘The food situation’ I offered.

She stopped mid kiss, her golden irises in her black orbs looking straight into me. That fiery flavor covered my sense of taste and even smell as it worked its way through my nostrils. A moment of regret passed over her face before she closed her eyes and pulled back with a pop. Even then, she pressed herself fully against me and looked back into my soul.

‘How bad is it?’ She asked with a sleepy tone as heat suffused my cheeks from her spice.

‘Apparently, the Rodring kingdom planned for all of this. It’s just the people following through with it aren’t them.’

That got her proper attention. Her black eyebrows furrowed while her back stiffened as she pulled herself up.

‘After the rebellion here, they cut the food stores to a fifth. That was to make sieging this place easier if it ever got uppity again. I hate how difficult it is to find out information not related to magical resources. It’s making a miserable slog out of finding basic facts.’

She closed her eyes and shifted her head upwards.

‘That’s why the haulers are so worried about the situation here and not the murderous pirates. Because the city was made to buckle under these circumstances.’

I nodded as a sense of tiredness overcame whatever energy the early morning typically offered.

‘Well, everything’s buckling, between the Kraton fleet dying and their main military base being overrun. Princess Palta seems to have some brains, at least. I suspect she wants me to help restore the house of healer’s ships. When, I don’t know and hopefully it will be after the harvest. Jeff was right, if I hadn’t come immediately, this place would be too far gone to save.’

She nodded at that before pushing her arms into the sky. Her white shirt and red coat stretched with the lazy motion before she gave a light moan. It was another moment before I vacated her lap with a reluctant push.

‘And I’ve got a haul to bring in. Though… I think a special goodbye is in order.’

With that her hand moved towards my privates, only just stopping before her eyes looked to me.

‘I didn’t have enough time to… fix the equipment.’ I answered with a small smile.

Her lips pursed as she looked down. Whatever thoughts she was having, I wasn’t going to let them fester. Especially after last night. Taking her face in my hands, I planted another kiss on her.

‘I don’t need that part to love you, Gula.’

Her cheeks blossomed with a deep green. We stared at each other for a moment before a shout was heard from the deck. Everyone knew who and what I was, obviously. If they were getting up, however, then it was past time for me to get back to my job.

‘Looks like the good times have ended,’ She sulked as her eyes pushed away the last bit of groggy morning.

‘For now,’ I corrected, letting her face go as I pulled back.

We both nodded at that. Leaving my wife with one last kiss, I headed out of the room and towards the back end, covering myself with a long grey cloak I left on the chair as I did so. Unfastening the window, I opened it and was promptly rewarded with a blast of piercing cold across my front. Now thoroughly removed of any previous comfort, I gave Gula one last loving look before glancing at the low sea below. Just beside the back end of the ship was the boat I had arrived in, magically fastened to the bigger mass of wood with plant magic.

It took a few minutes of doing, but I eventually eased myself down the side. Normally, I would have been content to simply dock it at the rocks seeing as how our ship above could see any sea-bound vessels working their way to us, but the clouds were a bit more crowded here. The air scion from Palta’s squad had her familiar patrolling the skies for new intel on the pirate locations and happenings, but it was restrained to the lower layer with the birds and couldn’t go as high as unfeeling machinery could. While that put to rest any concerns about the white and green moth smacking into our airships hull, we didn’t have a prayer of knowing where or when we were being watched.

Fortunately, the reports Palta had shared with me showed it didn’t have good enough vision to make out more than general shapes on the ground from the sky and certainly not from the great distance we were from the capital. When I had finally undone the wood I had grown into the ship and loosed my boat, I pried open the hatch and plopped into the center seat. Rubbing my hands together, I took only a moment before slapping the highest speed on the slabs to my left. I took off with a splash and heavy heart, leaving behind the massive mansion on water to return to my abode.

Out on the open seas with nothing but freezing air, rocking waves, and the faint smell of my beloved on me, I summoned a mesh of triangles, circles, and squares and fed the spell mana. Through the slits in the surrounding wood, the water suddenly rose to cover everything even if it didn’t try to come in. My ship was now indistinguishable among the dark waves and allowed me free passage past the city with two holes on the sides to give me some faint vision. When I had come up to a good point where it would look like I was coming from my usual fishing spot, I killed the spell.

Starlight was playing through the slits in my boat, but now rays of sunlight could be seen pushing them back. Looking ahead, I saw the mighty fortification that my work these past few weeks had produced standing tall and proud straight ahead. The dock was near the mouth of the moat I had installed around the three-story walls keeping the murderous wildlife out of my small domain, save for near the road where it cut back under a grate to provide water for the residences inside. The harbor construction was thick wooden beams with stone bottoms that held up the planks leading onto the smooth retaining wall. Atop the outermost post was a big triangle of wood, which the sailors told me was the universal sign that the harbor was not fit for ocean-going vessels to dock. A precaution needed for the wide tunnel under the moat channeling what would eventually be sewer water.

While most would be impressed by the smooth stone and solid wood screaming magical construction, there were only four piers to its name. For now, it wouldn’t be near enough to service a city, but it held my boat and the larger barge docked near the cusp of the sea. The second part of my mini fleet was a long thing with a sturdy shack in the front and a wide back suffused with water enchantments that gave it a speed far beyond anything the people here could manage without magic.

Tying my sleek boat into place, I pulled myself out of the hatch and onto the wooden planks of the pier. Moving forward, I made my way onto the barge left of my wharf. Walking over the flat floor of the back with a few rails on the sides, I moved up to the steering wheel in the cabin, untying it to the dock as I did so. Working the spoked circle with a few twirls to make sure that stiffness on the left turn was gone took up a minute, but the waters during the morning frenzy weren’t kind to even slight mistakes.

Satisfied, I looked through the thick glass panes towards the open seas. Out there, near what the faint orange whisps said was the rising sun, was a bloodbath always avoided by even the boldest captains of the waters. They, however, didn’t have water magic, personally or on their ship. Tapping the bottom slab of five wooden planks left of the wheel made the mass of wood crawl forward. It was a simple vessel, with no thrusters providing backpedaling functionality or enough speed to cut the waves. But it had capacity and was simple enough for a middling sailor to pilot.

When the ship was out of the pitiable harbor, I pushed the fourth-highest slab. My body swayed back a bit while some splashes in the back reported that the thrusters were working as intended. The journey out to sea was relatively uneventful for the first few minutes, downright peaceful.

I was peacefully gliding through the waves when a loud crunch from what I wanted to say was the back left announced a visitor, making me tighten the steering wheel while trying to get my bearing. The ship suddenly veered left through a bloody patch of water and the lack of any additional movement beyond the waves told me the threat was most likely gone. Coming out of the cabin, I was greeted by a large chunk of my vessel scattered around three large masses of black, smooth skin cut to shreds. A moment was all it took for me to recognize the form of a giant eel. In life, it was about the size of a carriage. After chewing into my ship and activating the stone shard trap, it was now cut into three sections that were slightly flayed. The organs of which were now slipping into the water.

So much for the safe section of the seas. I closed my eyes in irritation for a moment before getting to work. Getting the ship in order took only a few minutes as I fused the wood back together and redid the water thruster enchantments. Fortunately, my crafts were modular with mana being siphoned between thin circles. Not using a single line like so many crafts had made it far easier to re-establish the ‘engine’. By the time I was seaworthy again, the tail end had sunk to the depths, and I had nearly lost the other two sections of the young eel.

I had seen its kind reach nearly thrice that size, but my spots had typically been far out of their territory. The pup must have been looking for an opportune meal away from the adults. Well, their adventure ended in my advantage as two sections of its tube-like body were fastened to the back of the steering shack with the severed head staring skyward.

As thrilling as tales of slugging it out with sea monsters would be, I was looking for something a bit more boring and reliable. It took only a few more minutes of sea travel before my biggest investment in the sea came within eyesight. In a section of the waters where ships typically didn’t go because of the lack of current and sand beds that rose and fell unpredictably, were small floating balls of white plant fibers.

Coming up to the first of the three, I could only huff in disappointment as I used water magic to pull it closer. These were the survivors of eight pots I had placed into the sea. When I had first arrived in Crasden, pulling crab pots out of the sea hadn’t been what I envisioned doing here. But the forces of bureaucracy cared little for my wishes. Even imminent doom did little to sway those wastes of air and skin in the associations.

By the time my spells had pulled up the three hard wooden cages and their bounty of crabs on my deck, it was a good hour of the morning spent. Instead of holding my catch in a tank, I had the cages mesh into a solid mass to hold them in place as I went back to the steering wheel. When I had a hand on the lower slab to start getting the boat up to speed, a hard thump of air rolled over my chest with a thunderous ‘CRACK’ rounding out the experience.

Off to my right over the soft waves where the truly open ocean lay, a long pillar of lightning defied its kind's typical trajectory as the molten flash shot up into the air, followed quickly by several siblings. Competing with the splashing of water against my hull was a long off cacophony of metallic scraping and ripping sinew. As great as ocean life could be, I decided it was time to run off with my day’s gains. With one quick slap, the mass of wood shot toward safety.

The fact I had only just been outside the view of Crasden and nearly lost my ship had dashed any hopes I had of making the fishermen do morning runs. Their catch would be far less in the afternoon, but I suppose it would still fill their bellies and then some. Coming up to the mass of smooth white stone, it was the small fort in the middle that was my destination.

Perched on the island I had made my first day here, the building was three stories of stone smoothed into a curve like a shield facing the ocean. Four ballistae were spaced on the top alongside which were two catapults, but it was the three piers reaching out like fingers that I kept focused on. As I pulled into port, several workers opened the large palisade at the center to begin the usual offloading.

A few looked askance at the eel snout peering out over the cabin, but I had brought home enough monsters or parts thereof in expeditions weeks past that they quickly set to collect the day's catch. It was a rather pathetic haul considering the usual bounty I brought back, but I could only hope the afternoon fishing fleet could make up the difference. When the last cage was lifted off the deck and set to the side, I waved the men goodbye.

The unsure bows and startled looks they gave me were the typical response I got whenever I treated the magicless men working the docks like they weren’t filth.

Turning around in the tight space of the dock, it was a good minute before I had enough clearance to push out of the marina. Moving past the new mini-fort, I got a look at the harbor. It was a bit livelier than when I first arrived as men moved crates and carts between warehouses or shops. As soothing as it would be to say it was due to an abundance of new resources, most of it was from people moving around the clog centered around the edge of the wall towards the back.

The earth mage association had been wrangled into shoring up the defenses around the new road, but the disjointed section where the new road met the old brick was left in place. As petty as the associations were, they didn’t have the jurisdiction to prevent the locals from building a semi-workable ramp to the new road. While it brought in the goods from my abode, it wasn’t large enough to effectively handle the task.

Speeding past the city, I went along the stone shore toward my home for the foreseeable future. The situation had been getting steadily worse since I arrived. I was bringing in food from the seas and my first crop was nearing its harvest, but no ships were coming in from elsewhere. Rumors said princess Palta and her squad had personally consigned three of the enemy’s ships to oblivion. Even with her best efforts, this was a question of logistics and positioning. Right now, the Mist pirates had both.

Time had not been favoring the city before my arrival. It was two or so months before the Kisspin season started in earnest and everyone seemed certain the pirates would try something beforehand. Still, the pieces were coming together, fighting me all the while, but the upward trajectory was finally in sight. Looking to my right, I saw the wide walls covering the road that was carrying new blood into the troubled body of the city.

Naturally, the associations wouldn’t let me come back to properly fortify everything. But Palta had declared the road a vital piece of infrastructure. She couldn’t declare housing in the city or redoing the sewer system as being the same level, but the agreement with the local earth mage association clearly allowed for the road and stipulated that they would have to make such a piece of the city secure. The princess showed a good mind for legal trickery that more stemmed from her combat experience than clashed with it. And with no way to contact any higher courts, the bald earth mage that had been staying behind to collect fees was forced out of uselessness.

Not that it had been pretty for me either. My involvement was perfectly obvious, and the collective pride of mages was apparently quite wounded at a scion working for the livelihood of the peasants. Even Palta seemed a bit perturbed at how casual I was with the non-magical denizens. All the other mages had consigned me to pariahdom for doing nothing but help the dross with their petty needs like food and un-slit throats while the princess was at least only facilitating my disgrace and had some previous achievements to her name that kept some respect for her person. As my mass of stone came up, I chewed on the fact that of my three lives, all involved me being an outcast from my peers.

Averages tend to speak loudly, but I’d like to think that it was the price of necessity more than my social inability.

Coming into the dock, I left my barge the way I had found it and moved onto the pier. The sun was shining now, with the occasional splash against the rock wall providing the kind of seaside life most dreamed of. Nothing here was or was going to be easy, though. I allowed myself to soak in the atmosphere as I came onto the grey stone representing solid land. Moving to the left, I walked for a few seconds before coming up to the open gate where a palisade rested inside a dual-towered section of the wall.

Right now, there were no gears to move it up and only a pillar of earth from my spells could raise it. It wasn’t the most secure dock, but right now there wasn’t anything just outside the wall worth securing. Lifting the metal mass and gently dropping it down after clearing the lower spikes, I went onto the open field of stone.

More trouble than the wall or buildings, the flat slab of stone had been the greatest source of agony. Without a solid foundation, nothing else could be built. It had also been the most mindless aspect of the project. There was no finesse to the spells being used that wouldn’t potentially undermine the integrity of the towers or walls placed on their products. No clever tricks or strokes of genius, just mindless stone summoning and molding into a cohesive whole.

It was a task left to the stone enchantments I had placed on far too many boards and what had allowed me enough time to work on the crab pots. Now it was complete. Looking across the field, I saw a round piece of a five-story wall near a section of the smaller outer wall further ahead of the river, a water channel flowing down the middle of the stone floor complete with a wooden bridge. The first seed of life here was wide and long enough to be a proper town and being right next to the gate to the city, perfectly positioned for the green menace to work its claws into my domain.

Speaking of, I quickened my pace as I approached the only occupied section and the inevitable pain of civilization; traffic. This palisade into the mini-city was fully functional, however. Something the carts carrying arrows and metal bars were no doubt quite appreciative of. As I approached the main vein of traffic into and out of the place, most stopped and did a light bow. Peasant men and women wearing slightly dirty clothes scurried back at the approach of the grand wizard, displayed in his magnificent garb of a white shirt and black pants. As did the guards, who bowed as lowly as the rest when I walked past.

Some men had human wives, but the presence of the Orcs was the worst-kept secret in this corner of the world. I wanted to say every eight or nine men were ‘bachelors’. A word that always meant the man had a woman with grass-colored skin. These social dances where people denied what was so obvious were never something I had been too interested in. But my mission here demanded I entangle myself into their lives and I had picked up a bit of it.

The central divide among the peasants seemed to be based on gender, and it was an immediate thing. I had overheard some conversations among the packs of housewives roaming the stalls for their family’s needs. When a girl was born, there was the usual chittering of excitement that accompanied new life. But magicless boys? They weren’t outright shunned, but there was a noticeable shift. Stiff congratulations replaced small claps and the mothers had a resigned air about them that was notably heavier than when they had birthed their own gender.

In the typical fashion of polite societies, a lot was said with little spoken.

Among the peasants, the guards were the only profession that was totally compromised. Aside from one or two men, the local watch was entirely laying with Orcs. A fact I was quite grateful for. While the coming meeting was due to their inclinations, they were exactly the people I wanted looking over every corner of my home. They’d no doubt report the numerous spots I had left that would let them filch food or other vital supplies.

Walking through the palisade, I came onto another stone field, though this one came with usable buildings. Along the left was a long continuous row of stone greenhouses. While each triangle roof of glass and stone represented a separate section, they were all put snugly side-by-side. On the right was a series of open-air forges. Typically, smithies were expensive to fuel and more so with the shortcuts employed to make up for the limited space. The ones here were large, well-insulated domes that kept heat so well cooks could use them a good hour after the last bang of a hammer faded. Stacks of wood or coal laid to the sides as smiths pounded on red steel or iron in a chorus of ringing clanks.

Ahead against the center wall was a three-story building of bare gray stone. Clear glass and wooden shutters rounded out the plain blocks. It was the world’s least pretentious mini mansion with twelve rooms on each floor. Not nearly large enough to hold all the future residents, but the sides were extra thick and had more than enough strength to hold the addition of a few more columns of rooms.

As impressed as everyone who looked around was, the inefficiency of the space irked me. In order to save time making the buildings, I put all the weight of the structures against the wall. That left a huge amount of the inner space wasted as an open field. Musing on how I would fill the land, I walked across it toward the small mansion.

After a minute or two of strolling, I came up to the wide, double oak doors and sauntered into my current home. Sparing a few support pillars in the middle and a staircase to the upper floors in the back, it was an open floor with a dresser and a bed towards the left. Small echoes rang out with my walk to the little corner. The placement of sectioning walls and some decent furniture was one of those items that was both desperately needed yet never seen to. Fortunately, this was not to be my permanent home. Quickly retrieving a change of my grass pants and a different white shirt, I did a proper washdown in the corner.

Part of my agreement with the denizens of the city was providing a maid to clean out my water and free me of the mundane tasks of life. The people I talked to about all of these arrangements were, oddly enough, the head of the local guard and harbor master. Little thought was given to matters of civil administration, as the hard rule of government seemed to be ‘don’t make a mess big enough to be noticed’ and the job of who had to deal with me on a day-to-day basis fell to those who kept order and managed the docks.

When I had wiped down the last bit of my skin and made myself presentable for the world, I changed into my clothes while making sure the all-important slab of wood that served as my known healing item stayed on my person. For this or any other place, it was an invaluable treasure and I had to keep up the appearance that it was too important to be left lying around. Coming out of the near-hollow mansion, I took a right towards the green houses.

These were the greatest item of interest to the local peasantry. Opening one of the doors into the potato section, I was greeted with a long pyramid of wooden plant beds running towards the solid slab of grey stone in the back. I looked over my crop with its thick stalks and seemingly healthy leaves. Light was a faint thing this time of year and that was without a wall blocking the later portion of sun. In spite of that, the plants were bright green with strong limbs. Honestly, it was a bit unnerving. The air was musty, and the general sense of the place was one of cramped decay.

Magic, however, overcame the lacking accommodations with the plant-growing enchantments affixed to the bottom of the beds keeping the crops healthy. The men responsible for watering and monitoring the produce believed we were a day or two from harvest and I was inclined to agree. Seeing a faint bit of blue mana getting sucked into one of the lower beds in the back made me think of putting in some mana lamps. It would provide some extra light if the farmers needed to work in here late at night or, more accurately for a place this far north, past midday.

I did a similar inspection of the other greenhouses and found they all enjoyed the same success. In a few days, we would be having a few dozen carts worth of potatoes, carrots, beans, and onions being shipped to market. Not exactly a tsunami of sustenance, but between that and the catch from the seas, the cracks in the foundation were getting filled in.

Moving away from the most important section of my work here, I walked back through the open palisade and towards the main entryway into the main walls on my left. Fixed into the wall was yet another slab of molded stone and metal, and like the one into my abode, it also worked. Unlike the other two, this gate was fully manned. Atop it armed with crossbows stood men of the watch wearing red leather with metal dome tops, looking down over the small crowd and monitoring the wastes outside.

Walking with the small crowd underneath my massive wall, I walked further down what was for all intents and purposes a corridor with men patrolling the walls just as they did mine. Seeing as how this road wasn’t a part of my domain, the city had put the earth mage to use making walls on both sides of what was by all legal accounts a piece of Rodring infrastructure. Molding my wall to match had been easy and the guards were promptly secured under arrangements for a portion of the food and coin.

Walking out onto the safe section of the empty plains, most promptly moved out of my way. Grass clothing was the attire I used to announce to the populace who I was and why they should keep out of my way when I’m moving behind them. It served me well as I moved down the road along with those pushing carts of wood or metal to my abode or leaving it with loads of weapons.

My trip continued for a few minutes as the weak winter sun rose a bit further in the sky. When I came up to Crasden’s walls, the pinch in traffic was finally felt and the peasants couldn’t allow me passage. I had to wait with the rest as the morning traffic jam ran its typical course. People struggled to fit two lanes of traffic onto a section designed for one carriage after the earth mage had taken up a lot of the space for her mini fortification expanding the wall to accommodate the newest way into the city. A bit of work that didn’t require only having one lane. Spite, however, did have such a necessity.

But like every morning, we travelers of the road bore her bit of malice as we got to where we needed to go. Fortunately, it wasn’t open enough that people could get crushed nor would the guards patrolling above the road’s walls allow such a situation to occur. In time, I passed through the choke in the road and headed to the guard station.

Walking past the warehouses and shop was easy as passersby now had enough room to move out of my way. I still slowed down a bit to take in the mocking façade of truly modern architecture, but like an old wound, I was learning to appreciate it for its comical nature. After stopping at the local latrine, I walked in front of the shops taking up most of the inner left side of the harbor. The food situation had gotten a bit better and was looking to improve, with a few coppers falling off the silver being asked for. My breakfast of a hand-sized pie with minced fish in it was still a ten-copper expenditure, but things were stabilizing to a degree beyond the simple sum of my current efforts. News of a plant scion dedicated to helping the city weather the storm had helped calm nerves over the current situation and the brothers told me the Kisspin haulers were feeling downright optimistic.

Munching on my pie and taking a left at the last shop, I continued down to the main road. A long stretch of smooth stone with a chorus of a thousand human, horse, and dog feet pattering that was now joined by my leather boots as I walked straight ahead past the main tower on the left and mage district on the right. Getting down to Rain’s Drip was relatively painless, but as I approached the first cut-off where shabby wooden houses took over from the stone, the guards suddenly moved from the sides to me. Their bit lips and wide eyes added to the near-panicked manner with which they pushed through the crowd to me.

“Great mage!” one of the men said with a deep bow that swayed his long black hair.

There were three men behind him, all done up in the typical guard uniform of red leather. Though, unlike the men patrolling the top of the walls, they were armed with a wooden shield and regular sword. Their ensemble was rounded out with a wooden club at the hip.

“What brings you to this lowly place?” He asked with a bit of sweat dripping down his stubby nose. His wide brown eyes regarded me like a bear seeking entry into his home.

“I was heading to the main posting for the guards. Fessel wanted to meet up to discuss more men for the walls and work out an agreement for a stable supply of arrow shafts.”

He nodded before looking back to his squad. The man had to be in his early 20s and his unsure manner added to his visage of inexperience. After an awkward moment of searching for an answer from his men, I coughed to draw him back to me while I motioned for us to get out of the main lane of traffic. Moving to the right and up against side of a wooden house, I looked the man up and down with a slight smile before swallowing down the last bit of my rapidly cooling pie.

“Is there an accident further ahead you want to spare my delicate sensibilities?” I asked, a cloud of my white breath flowing over him and his men.

He shook his head before he gulped and held my gaze.

“It’s the… green menace, great mage.”

“Orcs?” I responded with a raised eyebrow.

The guard looked like he was handing me his death warrant, but he did his duty and gave me a nod. Most of his men followed his lead, though a few couldn’t keep a defensive aspect from their eyes. I turned towards the valleys that made up the slum. Several rivers ambled through the mass of shacks and even from here, I could see a few open-air markets lining the sides of the hills. Oddly, mana was almost non-existent. Aside from a few whisps around one corner or piling in a small cloud in the road, it was almost totally devoid of the blue specks. On the hill to the left stood the only stone structure that the images from Cell told me was the guard post and the current abode of Fessel, the big boss of the guard sent from the royal interior of the nation.

“That is my destination,” I proclaimed with a pointed finger to the building and a small smile. “Do you think I would survive the walk there, unmolested?”

The guardsmen regarded me with apprehension, apparently mistaking my question as a test rather than light conversation. Taking a deep sigh, I leaned against the house wall and folded my arms.

“Fine, get Fessel if he’s available. But keep one person here for my questions about this place.”

They all seemed a bit relieved at that. As the group shuffled off, the rest returned to their stations while one ran off to get the man I came to talk with, and the leader stayed in front of me to indulge my curiosity.

“Where would be a good place to set up some new construction? The back end towards the river outflow has some room.”

I received another nervous stare for my efforts. While it would be much easier for me to simply transform this place into a slice of paradise, that delicate dance around the obvious nature of this city would not be ignored.

“Tell me, my good man, if the Orcs are here, why have the powers that be not expunged them? They are, apparently, so close to us mages and spirits know what a disaster that would be.”

His shoulders went down a bit and his smile seemed a bit more genuine.

“We’ve tried to kill them, but even if you know where the festering spots of disease on your body are, getting rid of the ailment is another thing entirely. For all the considerable effort we have, are, and will expend, we just can’t seem to smite them.”

A simple nod was all I gave him as I turned back to overlook the slum. The men stealing a handful of food here and there wasn’t going to be enough to feed the Orc population. They needed to be close enough to my stores to take directly from them and it wasn’t going to happen if my works didn’t brush up against their world. This business of tunneling under my domain would provide that, eventually. Sadly, eventually and in enough time to make a difference weren’t the same. Gula had heard they were starting to tunnel closer to my abode, but she didn’t have the details.

“Well, I can’t say the wall-bound don’t put themselves in awkward situations.” I then turned to the man, his brown eyes having never left me. If I couldn’t come to them, then I would have to incentivize the Orcs and their men to come to me. “Still, I suppose this place has some merits. Do you know why I don’t see a lot of mana here?”

That got a small nod out of him, his left hand lowering his shield of red and black as he rested it in the dirt.

“The mages divide up the local mana away from the docks, like they do in the smaller towns only with multiple people getting the privilege. Lion guards are responsible for working that, we mostly track down pickpockets and stop tavern brawls. Why do you ask? If I could be so bold, great mage.”

“Have you ever been woken up by a Skinner charging you? The sacks holding its previous meals swinging around its center of flesh and the giant leather flaps getting ready to scoop you up while sleep fights to return.”

He gulped but shook his head.

“I don’t think we’d be having this conversation if I had.”

I nodded as turned back towards the slum.

“It’s a great adventure out there. Wealth beyond measure and stories to last a hundred lifetimes. But… you get old and fast. Joints start to ache and wounds that never set right become the majority rather than an exception. As much as I have eschewed such an immobile life, I have to admit that my new abode away from murderous trees and ravenous wolves has come to agree with me. Maybe once I settle things with the pirates, I’ll make my hovel something approaching a proper abode.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

He leaned forward a bit, lips puckered and eyes wide with hope.

“You’ve already done so much; I can’t imagine the government wouldn’t set you with a nice pension for coming to our aid in this dire time. Do you intend to give Crasden a twin? Would you have the skill to build such structures?”

“Perhaps,” I offered humbly, “A few buildings of shops and homes should be an easy thing. Something like that big tower the princess stays in, however? That would be a tougher trick. Suffice it to say, I think I will stay here after the storm has spent its fury. A nice cozy piece of the world for me to live in well-earned rest.”

And to make sure you lot don’t mess it up again. Having seen what a disaster things had become in my short time here; I made the executive decision to make this land a more permanent home for my fake life. I could use my resources to get exchanges for the more unique metals I would require for my circuit boards and while I’d have to find a way to get the work I had already done here; I didn’t feel like I had a choice in the matter. Between the stranglehold the associations had on any industry and the Rodring kingdom's weakened position, it would be all too easy for things to slide back into bedlam the minute I left to return to the base. If that happened, the ‘Strong mage suddenly shows up to fix everything’ card would be too hard to play again.

My last words seemed to reassure the man, who gave a small, grateful nod. He opened his mouth again when a voice penetrated the background noise of city life.

“Sir Laperict!”

Turning to my left, I saw the foreign head of the guard coming up the busy road with a compliment of men done up in red leather armor. He had black hair long enough to touch the embroidered pads on his red leather shoulders and his green eyes looked like he had come back into the kitchen to find his dinner ablaze.

“Hello, Fessel. How have things been?” I asked casually as he marched closer with black pants stretching from a near sprint. The new head of the guard did a little nod that sent some sweat dripping down his hair. A few droplets also dripped down his sharp nose and pronounced chin. If he felt any irritation at being dragged from his office, the infinite indulgence society dictated he show a mage didn’t allow him to express it.

“G-good. Great mage. What brings you to this great eyesore?” He asked, sucking in the icy air as he did so. I raised an eyebrow at the poor man, seeing him struggle to not bend over and suck in the air by the lungful. It was an awkward moment of silence as the passerby occasionally stopped to see what the obstruction was before quickly shuffling away to avoid irritating the mage. When his chest stopped heaving, I coughed.

“If it is such an inconvenience, perhaps we could set up a more…expedient means of having these conversations.”

That piqued his interest now that his brain had the oxygen to properly speak.

“What do you suggest?”

I turned back towards the tower and looked to its right, the rough direction of my own abode.

“Between the need for more guards and closer ties to the city, I want to set up a permanent post for the guards.”

Fessel bit his lips, looking at me before his mind started going over the figures. There was a point of tolerance where he was willing to allow me the free use of guards to assure the inflow of my goods. Permanently onloading a large group of his men, however, apparently hit above that mark. Not ideal, but I wanted a constant watch with the harvest coming in and I needed a larger force to keep things in order. The head of the guard took a few more minutes before he finally looked at me with some apprehension.

“That would be a… bit more than just giving a few patrols a new route to look after. We could afford to garrison your fort with a few dozen of our regular wrist breakers, but men in proper steel can’t be given so freely.”

Nodding as I looked over his men, I noticed most had an eager look in their eyes.

“My walls will do most of the protection. I don’t need your best veteran soldiers, just people who could aim a ballista and point a cross bow with enough wit to know which end to use and to not steer the sharp point near small crowds.”

That mollified him as his longer black hair swung with his bobbing head.

“Good, good. However, great mage, there is another… more sensitive element to this that I must speak with you in private terms.”

I raised an eyebrow but promptly started up a spirit conversation with him. When my electric sensation first brushed his skin he gave a slight start, which was quickly followed by his voice in my head.

‘The men here… they partake of the green filth. I have a lot of good soldiers that I brought in from the proper lands of the Literrean house and these I trust implicitly to guard your walls. But there is so much to be done here and everyone worth anything is already doing the work of two… I would not insult your grace and station by sullying your home with their presence. It’s bad enough they tread the roads handmade by a mage.’

‘I suspected as much.’ I offered in a disgusted tone matching the prospect of such a repulsive act. As any mage naturally would. ‘But the harsh reality is our enemy moves quickly. Tell me, how are the food stores holding up?’

That got a slight nod from him as his mind went over the figures.

‘Decent with your recent fishing trips.’

‘And if the pirates cut me off from the seas?’

Fessel gulped as he considered the prospect of a city totally unprepared for siege suddenly being cut off from the only current food source.

‘Still,’ He intoned with a strong upper lip. ‘The Kraton house has the blood of Rodring’s party in them. I’d imagine they’d break any siege within a day or even hours.’

That little shine of hope in his green eyes made my palms sweat and throat dry more than any threat or menacing glare I could have received from anyone here. The warm blanket of false protection was making everything harder than it needed to be. Negotiations for labor carried on longer than they should, and the overall bureaucracy was not as enthused about me rushing in to fix things as the true nature of their situation demanded.

‘Fessel’ I rebutted in a firm tone ‘As repulsive as even being near those who partake of the green flesh is, the Lion Guard are already taken up with their other duties. And, as disgusting as it is to consider, the regular guards would have no reason to burn or poison the crops since I assume the pirates wouldn’t sully their hands with them.’

‘Never!’ the captain of the guard enthusiastically shook his head in denial. ‘For all their faults, they still have some standards.’

‘Right. But for our purposes, their sin is our safeguard. They won’t turn traitor for pirates who would kill them on sight. Just make sure we have enough men to keep the growing houses going on full rotation.’

He nodded again, his green eyes shifting to his men for the briefest moment before returning to me.

‘If the Orcs should infest your design, how would you go about expunging them? Make no mistake, I’m sure the devils have already gotten a good amount of insight into your home already.’

I put a caring hand on his shoulder and a slight smile worked across my face.

‘We need to make sure the pirates don’t slit all our throats. The time for such measures come later.’

That time would be somewhere around the heat death of this universe. It was a thorny problem I was going to have to work around and now I got some petty satisfaction in returning the city’s obstinence several fold.

Fessel seemed resigned at my answer.

‘We’ll have the men ready tomorrow morning.’ Was all he offered.

Our business concluded, he left me with a small bow and a turn to his men. I likewise turned away towards the main road. All around me people held up by those gawking at me so close to the Orc hold began moving again. For my part, I headed down the main road. It was still a chill morning as the sun approached its pitiful peak. My belly rumbled, protesting the meager meal I had managed to eat at the dock. Still, payment was due.

My business took me to the local shops, where the wafts of bread and sizzling meat was mostly overwhelmed by the frying of fish and the cracking of crab legs. Being a coastal city, the bounty of the sea was a staple of the local diet. But since my catch was the more perishable good, salted meats and grains took a back seat. So much so that even some of the sailors were heard to grumble. Out of what they thought was my earshot, of course.

Grilled crab legs and some spicy potato soup served on one of the local tavern’s tables filled the void in my belly but not my company. Finishing my meal stuck between breakfast and lunch, I headed towards the harbormaster’s office. It was a slow day at the harbor and the two-storied mansion with a turret sticking out of the top was running at less than a fifth of its usual capacity.

It took almost no time at all, to move my way up the stairs to the left of the entrance. The soft red carpet in the middle of the stairs felt nice compared to the constant stone that had been underfoot for weeks. When I got to the top, the double doors on the right were still guarded by the metal-clad men. The one on the right nodded to me, his black beard and brown eyes moving with his head as he opened the door for my entry. Inside was a desk with windows in the back.

“Ah, Laperict.” The woman at the desk exclaimed. Her short black hair swung along her shoulders and the brown of her plain dress. Her small sharp nose wiggled as her plain green eyes took me in like a hawk. “Here to collect your pay?”

She reached down with her typical lack of grace, biting her tongue and her black hair shifting over her wide ears. After a second, she fished out a small sack of coins and plopped it onto her desk.

“Eighteen silver.” She declared with a lean back into her chair.

Looking at the leather bag, I stared at the small satchel of coins before turning up to look the harbormaster in the eye.

“I’d say it’s a bit light.”

She puckered her lips and leaned forward, resting her left elbow on the desk while her right hand strummed on the wood.

“You know, I’d be careful about becoming too entrapped in civilizations' workings. Knowing things about prices and coin exchanges could undermine your mystique.”

I raised both eyebrows in faint amusement.

“Failing to adapt to the current environment isn’t an endearing quality in things that like to continue living.”

That got a small smile out of her as her right hand reached back into the drawer. Pulling out a small handful of silver, she opened the mouth of the sack and dropped them in.

“Twenty and four silver. There could be more if we took time to properly haggle.”

“Bah!” I dismissed as I strode forward and took my days wage. “Not enough to waste my time doing it. Straight auction to the wholesalers as is.”

She nodded as she leaned back into her chair.

My time here completed, I turned to leave and nearly made it to the door when a man burst through. His grey hair and brown eyes were familiar to me as I had made them. It was Jeff, done up in a fine red vest and white shirt with smooth black pants.

“Ah, Harold.” The harbormaster called behind me in some anticipation.

I nodded to him before shuffling past as he eagerly walked forward. We were in different stratospheres of existence, him on the high heavens and I down in the dross and the powers of the universe dictated the former not be sullied by the latter. It was that rigidity that had made his mission of gathering the information that we needed so difficult. We still occasionally brushed past one another in the town, the laws of physics and space being one of the few stubborn things that didn’t hold to societal convention, and it was on one such chance passing that he told me the radio informed him of Gula’s return.

Leaving the happy couple behind, I went down the stairs to the left and onto the ground floor. Pushing through the double doors, I headed back to my abode to continue my work. For the next two days, I would work on putting dividing walls in the large mansion. With a promised shipment of guards coming in, I needed somewhere to put them. That gave me enough time to work out where I wanted to put my own home. The biggest criterion was making it somewhere Gula could visit, with general security and privacy almost tied.

Seeing as how I would need to stick close by, the design would have to have its own set of sturdy walls, yet I didn’t want it inside the walls I had already made. My wife using any hidden entrances to my chambers would be too dangerous considering how many people would be around the underground spaces at any time. Any secret doors or pulleys would be doomed to discovery through sheer luck and the number of random actions thousands of people take every day. It was when I was sectioning off the second-floor rooms that the answer came to me.

Underwater travel, made possible by clothing or rings done up with enchantments. Like what my first tower had. Where exactly to put my mansion on the water would come tomorrow when I had the time to scout out the perfect location. That little puzzle now put to rest, I poured myself into my work for the rest of the day.

The doldrums of mundane labor continued for three more days until the culmination of my labor in the grow houses finally paid off. Men took out carts of potatoes, onions, and carrots while I looked on from the center of the fort. My grey shirt flapped in the freezing air and the breeze made my brown pants sway with its push as I stood in the center of my first city.

It had been an uncertain thing at points, where flame-spewing maggots had infested the potatoes roots or some other parasite tried to take up residence, but now was the harvest. It’d probably be a day before we had hard numbers, but I wanted to say we had a haul equivalent to two or three midsize ships worth. The sight of all the workmen pushing cart after cart of vegetables out of the rows of grow houses was a beautiful sight that not even the grey sky above could taint.

“Don’t worry about getting too much soil with the food, we’ll be replacing all the dirt with more enriched-“ My instructions sent through the foggy clouds coming out of my mouth died when I saw a small crowd of guards coming out of the gate to my left. What drew these apart from the others who now called my abode home was the lion head helmets and flowing cloth along the arms of their full metal suits. They were the high-class ceremonial guards that accompanied those of status and sure enough, in the middle of the gaggle walked princess Palta.

Her flowing black hair matched the black coat adorning her, something that went well with the dark blue dress. Those piercing green eyes took in my work while a hand rubbed her sharp chin. The rest of the passersby quickly vacated the path between us, leaving her a straight shot to me. Which she promptly took, making her way to me with no hesitation.

“Palta.” Was all I said as I turned back to the much-anticipated harvest. Work had come to a brief halt but quickly resumed when the men noticed my gaze. Once the backdrop of moving carts started back up, I turned back to my newest guest.

“Tilvor.” She responded with a small smile. “I must say, it’s been a pleasant surprise to see you stick to your commitment. Being willing to declare your ability to help and having the strength to grind through it for weeks on end is a difference I’ve seen manifest more than once.”

The small breeze twisted her hair around her as flakes of snow started wafting along the wind.

“As gratifying as that is to hear, I don’t think your royal duties involve overseeing the vegetables.”

The water scion stayed still for a moment before nodding, a hint of amusement showing in her gaze.

“The matter I’ve come to pester you with is about helping the city. Though, this time it will be about helping a third party who is tied to these lands. Do you remember that house I asked if you would be willing to assist?”

“All too well,” I answered, crossing my arms.

“They’ve recently gotten enough sailors to fill out their losses battling the pirates. Now it’s just the matter of giving them ships to sail.”

“Oh?” my single word was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “How have they been faring on the sea? I’d imagine the pirates have been getting in a few good hits.”

Her expression stiffened a bit, but considering I was stabbing a sore wound with a sharp stick, she held herself well enough.

“They have been doing great, as expected of descendants of my distant sire's party.”

It was a sad thing, seeing a country slowly die. All countries did, of course, although those based on esteemed bloodlines typically had the worst of it. The Kraton house had become a weed in the country's garden and it would continue to steal valuable resources and attention from promising seeds until it chocked out its lands from incompetence. All the while shielded by the lineage of some long-dead member of the founding party in a tale probably more exaggerated than any child’s fable. I was aiding in abetting this weed, though my season in the garden may come quickly enough that it won’t matter in the end.

Palta stepped forward, starting up a spirit connection with me.

‘I have a morsel of information to share in the hopes that it will add speed to your feet. The Mist pirates have begun amassing near an outcropping several days from here. They will have enough muscle to launch a proper attack within a week or two.’

I stared at her, trying to make my face fully convey how displeased I was with being sent away on the eve of a potential battle.

‘I know this isn’t what you wanted.’ She offered, putting her hands up in mock surrender even as her green eyes had a hard glint in them. ‘But we can’t kill all the pirates. Not with the ships we have. If Kraton and its navy are given a full complement of warships, however, I’m confident they could see these bastards feeding the fish. If you move quickly enough, you may yet get your day of action.’

Restoring the Kraton fleet would be a big boon and help my main objective here. That wasn’t the main objective of the character I was playing, however. I had to spend a minute thinking it over while I wrestled with possibly missing a chance to fight my phony daughter’s killers. When what I felt was an appropriate amount of time had passed, I looked at my feet and sighed. My head lingered downward for a moment before I looked back up at the water scion.

“Fine.”

She got a small smile across her thin pink lips.

“Thank you.” She responded audibly “I have a large amount of food, traveling supplies, and even a heating enchantment ready, so come morning…

“No.”

That gave her pause, which I used to press my point.

“If you want me to do this, you must not intend to let my work here fall to ruin.”

Her sharp chin stuck out a bit with her nod.

“Then I can leave immediately.”

That seemed to impress her again. She turned back with a whirl of her black hair to one of the guards in the back.

“Fetch the sack of goods and the letter of recommendation.” He followed orders and half ran out of the area, sending white clouds of breath everywhere as he did so. Palta turned back to me, an appreciative glean in her green eyes. “The letter will explain who you are and what you’re about, pressed with my seal. Thank you. It’s been easier fighting the pirates than trying to get anything done here. Between the new Kraton fleet and the improving food situation… It feels like we might pull this thing out of the mud yet. If you ever find yourself further out west, know you’ll receive a welcome as warm as can be had.”

I had to admit, it felt nice to get some actual praise instead of scowls from mages or scared looks from the peasantry. We talked about what the Kraton abode looked like then onto idle things for a few more minutes, goings on concerning some mishap or one item of gossip or another for a few more minutes until the guard came back with the needed goods, showing me the needed letter which he promptly put in with the rest of my supplies before handing the bag over. Looking into it, I found a fluffy, brown coat complete with fluffy cotton at the neck and wrists laying on top of various traveling foods. Slinging the wide sack onto my back after putting on the coat, I waved them all goodbye as I headed towards my simple harbor.

A few minutes of light jogging saw me arrive at the dock that held my long, slender, semi-enclosed boat that had taken me across the seas to this blight of trouble. Pulling open the lid, I tossed my rucksack of supplies in behind my chair. After untying my home for the next few days, I plopped into my seat. It took a few seconds of adjusting, but I was ready to leave in short order and hit the higher-speed slab of wood on the left.

The ship dipped upward with the sudden thrust coming out of the back but kept within acceptable bounds. Through the slits in the walls, I could see the wooden pillars shoot past followed by long shores of bushes, rocks, and grass on the right. My ship got to the top of its stable speed and I was zipping along the coastline just far enough away to not hit the sandbars but still within several stone tosses to shore should something from the sea come sniffing for its next meal. It was a day and a half of miserable travel filled with cold meals and warming the interior with a heating craft. Only the ability to travel in the early morning, owing to sticking so close to shore, made it bearable. The misery continued until a walled settlement matching the Kraton hold came into view.

While the wall encompassed the entire settlement, I couldn’t be anywhere else but the house of healers as the golden embellishments along the top had the same rich color seen in healing spells. The grey overcast sky did little to bring out the shine in the material, but it still stuck out and the lack of trees made the slight shine easier to see. Worryingly, it took me getting within a few yards of the palisade in the middle before I was finally spotted.

“Stop!” A voice cried from somewhere along the wall.

Bringing my ship to a slow then a standstill, I opened the hatch to let the salty spray carried on the icy wind roll over me. Looking up, I saw a man in metal plates with gold edges wielding a rather large bow whose metal-tipped arrow was now pointed at me.

“I was implored to provide my plant magic to house Kraton by Princess Palta. Has she sent me on a joke of a quest or has the message been lost?”

He was a bit too far away to make out his features, but his relaxing of the bow told me I was expected company.

“The plant scion?” He called down, barely being heard over the crashing waves. “Yes. Please pardon the welcome.”

With his last word, the wooden palisade to my left began lifting out of the water with the clanking of gears. I gave him a simple nod before closing my hatch. Pushing my ship to a mid-speed, the wall above quickly passed overhead, and I was in the harbor proper. Or at least part of it.

The right side was a typical affair with long warehouses and fingers of wood reaching into the water. On the left, however, was a channel of water leading further into the stronghold and to where the ‘mighty’ Kraton fleet probably rested. Bits of blue mana were sucked into the channel, leading me to assume the water was pushed ahead using magical enchantments.

Taking in the middle of the harbor where shops and houses squished into whatever space could fit them, the most noticeable thing was how much wood and regular stonework was present. Unlike Crasden, this place was of a different taste. Forgoing the pseudo-modern glass and metal sides, thick stone slabs served as the main sides and fronts while wooden beams stuck out between floors. It was a far more sensible layout for the available materials and closer to what I had seen in the Coalition, though the gold leaves and embellishments found around the tops and sides of certain buildings slightly undid the utilitarian nature of the construction.

“To the second harbor, good sir.” A voice called above.

Moving towards the channel, more than a few passersby stopped to look at the odd ship moving through their home. Mothers pulled eager children and the men looked on with raised eyebrows, some in suspicion and others in intrigue. Whatever their mishaps at sea, the people here seemed to have staved off starvation. A few minutes passed until I finished my way up the channel, coming out onto a much larger harbor.

The left and right sides had been taken up by docks with the land beyond occupied by rows and rows of ship hulls. A few were in the water, two-storied things with ballistae along the side sporting gold-tinted sides and blue sails, but the docks with a ship were outnumbered about five-to-one. Men worked around the various skeletons using what looked like less than a dozen wood-growing tools throughout the whole yard. The noise and movement died near the middle where a large building made to a downright regal standard laid.

It was a wide house with a three-story building sitting in the back of the harbor. Small creeks ran through the otherwise smooth stone floor with a few patches of grass and small, immaculately cut bushes whose square shapes were cut by hand, not magically grown with that seamless grace that every plant I had been working with had. Four straight paths cut through the creeks to allow direct access to the main building at the center.

It was a wide rectangle of a structure with three stories, the second and third of which were ringed with a balcony running around the entire perimeter of the floor. Unlike the other buildings, the body was almost totally wooden with the only rocks being smooth stone walls that were no thicker than a finger. The top was flat, and I could see some tables and chairs near the side rail allowing people to eat their meals and watch the goings on of the harbor. All embellished with the gold edges that seemed omnipresent here. A few maids and young lads were running about seeing to their labors, though it was the butler with five steel-cladded men behind him at the middle pier that drew my eyes.

Coming into the dock, I waited until I was right up against the wooden pier before shutting off the enchantments propelling my craft forward. Prying open my hatch did little to hurt my eyes as the grey sky above barely assaulted my retina with new light. The butler, wearing a black suit top and prim black pants with bits of gold leaves embroidered throughout, nodded to one of the guards making his white lamb chops on the sides of his face shift slightly.

“Greetings. The house of Kraton officially welcomes you.” The older man said, his white gloved hands going to his back and stomach to perform a deep bow. The lack of hair left little obstruction to seeing his face and the brown eyes looking at me seemed friendly enough. “The lady has a good bed ready for-“

I put up a hand and shook my head while the guard he nodded to leaned down and began tying my boat to the dock.

“My purpose here is to get the ships ready for battle. As tempting as getting my butt in a plush bed is, my work takes precedence. Oh, I don’t know if it makes a difference now that I’ve been officially welcomed but here, a missive written from princess Palta herself.”

I leaned down towards my bag and retrieve the letter Palta had stuffed in it. When I had rummaged it out, I immediately offered it to the man. His grey eyebrows raised a fraction of a hair, but he made no move to take it for a long moment. When he finally leaned down to take the page, his eyes had a frustrated glean in them.

“Thank you so much, great mage.” His voice had a warm tone that was at odds with the irritation at the edges of his gaze.

Relieved of my burden, I got out of the boat and looked around. The workers were still going about their labors as the faint light vaguely suggested a low mid-day sun failing to shine through. Even looking around, it didn’t escape my notice that the butler put the letter into his inner coat pocket like it was a live snake. That didn’t stop him from performing his duties, however.

“A thousand thanks, great mage. Where would you like to start?”

I simply shrugged.

“This is my first time working these yards. I’ll defer to your advice on where to begin.”

That got an appreciative nod from him while the guards relaxed a bit. I didn’t immediately see why they were so pleased, but after a few minutes of directing me, it became apparent that they would be shadowing me the entire day and appreciated tolerable company. The ships were of a better design than the Crasden brand, with only a few obvious flaws in the smaller ships and the larger, three-story ships getting a relatively clean bill of health from me.

Most of my efforts were focused on getting the enchantments for the latter ready. Throughout working with the ships and their builders, they showed me the special blue thread that was grown from grass strands contained in growing houses not too dissimilar to mine. A rather indulgent aspect of their construction was the amount of gold used to accentuate the ship's hull. Wasteful, that. But the Kraton house was simply that wealthy and the constant churning of the deep earth by mole packs meant otherwise rare metals were not as out of reach as their technology would suggest.

The occasional stomp and smack of wood playing over the soundscape of the shipyard gradually grew louder with each new craft I put out until it had ascended into a full chorus of industry. When the final triangle of the final enchantment for the final dock was put in place it was near the late afternoon. This time of year, the night had long since claimed the skies. Workers pressed on, though, with thick coats and small bonfires providing some bracing against winter's grasp. I was squatting on a bench near one such sanctuary when the butler on my right coughed into his hand. His clouded breath joined those of the surrounding guards.

“Simply marvelous work, Mr. Laperict. But decency won’t allow us to ask more of you. We have our best accommodations ready to receive you.”

This time, I offered no objection.

Following him, he led me to the right towards the house in the middle of the smooth stone slab. With night fallen, the heating enchantments that kept the crisscrossing creeks unfrozen had been turned off and the water drained. When we were up to the house, he gently opened what looked like a rather thin door and ushered me into the abode lit up with mana lamps along the ceiling. The place was almost entirely open and sported a small grill to the far left surrounded by a few wide lounging couches near the back and a spiral staircase leading to the upper floors against the left wall. Taking it all in, it took the staircase leading down to thick wooden double doors further ahead on the right for me to finally grasp the nature of the building.

“This whole thing is a glorified porch,” I said to no one in particular.

The butler walked past me on the right, flashing me a small smile as he did so.

“If this was considered a proper residence for a member of Kraton, much less for the head of our people, we would barely be better than the teeming masses in shacks. Please, let me show you a proper home.”

He and the guards ushered me forward towards the stairs. His older arms opened the wide doors with little effort leading into a marbled room. Streaks of gold ran through the slick white marble while drapes of gold, blue, and green played along the walls that had golden light from mana lamps in the corners play across them. The three colors were in the chairs and small tables to the sides and imbued in the doors, of which there were three, each leading out of the square room towards other sections of the house. The one opposite our entrance is where my guide motioned for me to go.

“Tell me, how big is this place? Underground structures are always a pain to get dimensions for.”

A smile stole over the older man’s face and his chest puffed out ever so slightly.

“It’s nearly as big as one of the surrounding towns. No effort was neglected when it was first built. Small tunnels were installed to help maintain airflow while the kitchen is put on the upper most floor in case of a fire. Similar precautions are taken for the lower levels and our esteemed cocoons.”

The raised eyebrow I gave him didn’t slow him down as he opened the door to the next section. It was a longer hallway this time with several doors along the sides and at the end leading to an open wall in the back that split in two directions.

“Cocoons?” I asked as he led me to the end of the hallway.

He looked taken aback at my ignorance for a moment until he nodded at me with a small smile.

“Forgive me, great mage. Our fame is so wide-reaching, I presumed too much. When the healing mana starts pouring out of the soil, we have special rooms that capture it and force it into a guest’s body while they lay suspended in a special cloth hammock, hence the name. Renting out rooms for that service and our harvests of magical resources at this time of year is the foundation of our immeasurable wealth. There is simply no greater or economical means of staving off aging.”

Well, it was nice to see this place at least had an actual purpose.

“Have the pirates made a dent in your means this year?”

“Pff,” He casually huffed as we took a right at the hallway junction. “The mages who’ve contracted our rooms have already paid and arrived, properly preserved magical resources never lose value, and the Mist Pirates haven’t killed anyone of any consequence. Our coffers will see this through quite unscathed.”

The room we came into was a fair bit warmer than his words.

It was a wide space with gold embroidery along the walls depicting great acts of healing. Limbs regrew, cuts smoothed over, and grateful mothers hugged healing mages over their saved children. All glorious scenes depicted in shining metal. In the middle was a stone patchwork of the omnipresent blue, green, and gold depicting a hand over a bandaged shoulder, with the gold circles, squares, and triangles of a spell going off in the open palm. Just behind the display was a large throne of smooth oak and soft red cushions. Squatting in it was what I assumed to be the pain in my ass that had set these events into motion.

The lady of the house was almost doll-like with near porcelain skin and long, flowing red hair that shined in the golden glow of the mana lamps. No stray strands besmirched the golden dress laced with emeralds around her collarbone. As well as she presented, those green eyes gave away the true mood of the current head of house Kraton. Her posture was laid back and her hands casually clapped on her left leg, but the gaze above her small nose was filled to the brim with suspicion and mistrust.

“Tilvor Laperict was your name, correct?” She asked, the firm voice flowing between her blue lips.

“Indeed. Lady Ashe, I presume?” I completed the exchange with a respectful bow.

“You assume correctly.” She answered back with a slight nod. “I know you must be tired from your travel and labor.”

The late twenties woman proceeded to get up from the throne and turn towards the back of it. Leaning to the side, I saw a wide-open doorway beyond which a table burdened with a wide assortment of breads, meats, and vegetables lay. A feast she graciously waved her arms towards. I followed her lead, but it was the butler who looked askance at her.

“Lady Ashe, the food-“

“Has been moved to a more appropriate place, Rennard.” She insisted with a small smile, prompting him to look at our destination. Her last word was emphasized with her interlacing her arms through mine like we were going on a cordial walk. The butler looked more confused than anything else, so I restrained myself to using my mana generation to form three lightning spells under my coat in case things went truly hostile.

Passing over the threshold of the doorway, the smells of the meal suddenly flooded my nose. Strong ales, succulent meats, the waft of seared vegetables, and a strong odor of something beyond ripe now fully presented themselves to my senses. A long day of work almost made my stomach rumble in anticipation. Rennard quickly adjusted to the situation, rushing ahead to pull out his lady’s chair. That brief second gave me enough time to take in what I had walked into and I had a jolt run up my spine as I realized what surrounded me.

We were on a raised platform, below which sat several quite large animals in thick pens of steel. While I could distinguish some general shapes of large tigers, boars, and a horse-sized preying-mantis, the others were too far out of the ceilings mana lamps light to fully make out. All of those I could see made apparent two very important facts: They were bound, often with spikes being driven through the joints and midsection. And judging from their grey skin, rancid smell, and slack jaws, they were very much dead. At least as dead as anything could be during this season.

Taking in these facts, my mind focused on the closest and most intimidating specimen. A dragon. Bound in a glass and metal cage behind the chair opposite the entrance but high enough to not be immediately seen, the beast was totally immobilized with spikes in every elbow, knee, and section of the spine. In addition to those restraints, a thick assemblage of chains held it firmly to the ground. Above the beast I could see the glean of three heavy blades suspended with chains going into holes in the ceiling, ready to cut off the head of the undead dragon.

In the light of the mana lamp, its patchwork of scales had a jagged and messy flow to their colors. Reds, blues, greens, and every combination of the three played across a canvas of scales in harsh, unsymmetric patches. Taking the creature fully in, I could see the legs had an uneven, lopsided distribution with the front two clearly being too short while the back left one was a good two or three feet past what nature would have typically dictated. Along the rolling, uneven spine near the shoulders were two stumps that looked to be where its wings would have been. Flecks of golden mana seeped into its ribs and around the three spikes shoved through the top of its jaw keeping the mouth shut. The dragon had eyes with irises nearly as large as plates, but they showed nothing aside from glossy milk. These clouded circles ambled around the room, seeing nothing of the world its spirit had long since left.

Ashe left my arms to sit in the chair Rennard had pulled out for her. Taking in the situation and judging her demeanor, I tried to guess at her game as I moved to my seat nearest to the entrance. It was the moment my butt hit the seat that I noticed how her chair was a good head taller than mine. Ah, she was trying to intimidate me.

“A great spread, Lady Ashe.” I praised with a nod, putting a small roll on my plate and using the long fork to get some ham from a platter on my right. Far from a gracious smile, her red eyebrows furrowed and her lips slightly puckered at my friendly conversation. Closing my eyes, I took a slow breath to gather what remained of my patience and manners. The display was accompanied by me casually leaning back and looking into those green eyes, idly tapping my plate as I tried to parse the source of her hostility.

“Have you been in a fight? Not a spar or a friendly competition, a contest where the only reward is your lungs get to suck in air for one more day.”

She crooked her head slightly to the left.

“A man at the local market once thought my throat would make a good sheath for his dagger. An assassin from a formal rival who thought they would be better at steering this house back into good standing.”

I nodded before taking my mug, which Rennard quickly moved from Ashe’s side to fill. He picked up a big pitcher from the middle of the table and tipped the dark liquid into my earthen cup. There were small chunks of what looked like a purple apple bobbing on the top while my nostrils were flooded with sweet spice.

“The eyes,” I announced when he finished, closing my hands around the mug sitting in front of me. “They show intent and humans aren’t much better at hiding it than any of the monsters I’ve fought. Have I missed some tenant of basic hospitality? Or is my work so shoddy that you feel you were better off beforehand?”

That got the first genuine smile from her. Ashe sat back for a bit, tapping her mug after Rennard filled it with the spicy drink.

“What is your aim on Crasden?” She finally asked.

I raised an eyebrow at her but answered all the same.

“First and foremost, putting these ‘Mist pirates’ into their graves. Not being constantly hunted is a secondary goal. The wall-bound are rather soft, but once you get to my age, times of constant adventure and peril don’t have the same appeal they once did. I think a long retirement in peace is in order and there’s a lot out there in the wilds, but that isn’t one of them.”

She leaned forward, clasping her hands together with a smile playing across her blue lips.

“Surely you don’t mean to live as a beggar, though. I heard you were building some sort of fort with layers of walls.” That hostility was still present, but it was being crowded out by cautious curiosity.

“Was the letter Palta sent so lacking in details?” I asked.

Her red eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she slowly turned to the butler on her right side. His brown eyes had some strain in them, and I felt some unspoken tugging between the two. After a moment, the older man relented, producing the letter from an inner pocket. Handing it off with a slightly sour expression, Rennard made no comment as Ashe snatched the letter from his hand and promptly ripped open the missive. Her green eyes went over the words at lightning speed only coming to a stop after reading it over again. Leaning back into her chair, she looked me up and down with almost no hostility.

“So, your abode is mostly taking in peasants. Do you have any intention of muscling into the Kisspin harvest?”

My patience thinned a hair more. The Kisspin harvest had muscled into my domain, not the other way around.

“Lady Ashe,” I said in a measured tone, the slightly rotting scent in the air feeling more appropriate by the second. “Perhaps our time would be better spent actually talking and not playing a dance of suggestions and innuendo. What, exactly, do you want, and how have I offended those aims?”

Her long red hair swayed with a nod of her head.

“Direct. Palta did have a good measure of you.” She took a light sip from her drink before leaning back to casually lay against her chair. “What I want is simple: The restoration of my house to its proper place. A distant relative made a horrible decision with the green scourge and hundreds of years of glory were put in the bin. I intend to put us back where we belong and a big part of that is putting Crasden back under its true leadership. Of course, if a plant scion moves in and starts taking up the reigns after Palta leaves, that part becomes a fair bit more difficult.”

“I have no intentions of being chained to Crasden’s echelons of power.” I refuted.

“And I believe you.” She responded with a small raise of her mug, picking up the paper with her left hand and quickly browsing a few of the words. “ ‘Utterly disinterested in true governance and too short-tempered to manage the city’ is what she said, and I’m inclined to agree. But does that extend to the gathering of magical resources? For both Kisspin haulers and expeditions.”

Ah, now we’re at the meat of the dispute. No one cared about the peasants or blacksmiths or any other meaningless prattle, but ears perked up and sword handles were gripped when those two coveted words were uttered. I rolled my head back and forth in a non-committal twirl.

“As a controller? Too much fuss from what I’ve seen. Growing enhanced plants is something I’ve mastered over the years and that is how I get my due. As an investor? Depends. If the deal is good enough, I could see myself throwing around some resources to fund a boat or two.”

Her shoulders came down and the anger in her eyes dimmed to mere distrust. She didn’t have any reason to trust me nor did any of the facts suggest I was lying. I had the distinct feeling she was going to test me on this subject in time. Still, she only nodded before answering.

“Well, I suppose if I took issue with that, I couldn’t let any mages come in.”

The head of the Kraton house took a steaming roll from a pile to the left and sipped her drink, but I put my mug to the side. Ashe seemed so-so as far as mental stability went, but she was an addict of the oldest drug in history: glory. That euphoric high has scrambled the stablest minds and even a hint of me being an obstacle to her supply put me in danger.

“Thank you for the meal, lady Ashe.” I expounded as I stood up to not eat. “But I’m sure you know what it’s like running a place with so many people. Time and events demand I return to Crasden immediately.”

Unoffended, she simply nodded and motioned for Rennard to see me out. No more words were spoken as I was led from the chamber, only stealing a last look at the mishappen body of the dragon before heading into the main audience chamber. Rennard politely escorted me out, walking to my right as I moved back through the way I came in. It took only a few more minutes for me to be before the double doors leading into the outdoors. Rennard pushed the right door open, letting in a gust of icy wind. Getting out into the light building, any heat on my skin blew away. The winter’s night gave me a good slap, which Rennard also got as he accompanied me up the stone stairs.

Thin walls and wide-open sections of the above-ground structure did little to shield me from the elements. Coming out of the door towards the harbor put me out into the proper elements and it was only the inner folds of my coat that felt any warmth. When I took my last step past the stone square showing the bounds of Ashe’s abode, I looked around the docks. Workers were still going hard at their craft as the chorus of work continued in the faint starlight or the glow of a bonfire. Rennard led me down the left side of the harbor until we came up to the dock with my unique ship and its closed top.

“Thank you,” Rennard said with a slight bow. “However abrasive the lady is, you have done us a great service and it will be remembered.”

“We’ll see if she agrees. In the meantime, try to repay me in dead pirates.”

A smile stole over his face as I opened the top of my ship and unfastened it from the dock. Plopping into the far too cold wooden seat, I immediately fished out my heating craft, a wooden ball with a flat bottom, and set it out below me. When I got the hatch down to keep the heat in, I waited for the surrounding air to approach tolerable and make the controls semi-bearable to touch. The craft Palta gave me wasn’t bad and accomplished the task in five minutes.

Ready to set out, I put the boat to a third of its top speed. Making my way out of the back harbor and into the main one, the man overlooking the harbor was a bit sharper-eyed this time. The portcullis lifted in the air at my approach. It took a second before the gate was high enough that I could take off at full speed. The second that happened, I put my ship up to its top speed. As my ship glided across the open water, the wind blew through the open slits of the rounded top for a second before I put up a wind spell to shield the inside from the icy slaps of sea spray. I was around a bend that would have blocked the watcher’s sight of my spell, but I still made a mental note to add that functionality later.