The Beastshaper Hero waited patiently on the stones of a tower, watching people mill about the inner ward of the castle like ants. Mice might be a better comparison, like mice in a feed barn, darting here and there and stopping to commiserate about the Queen’s arrival.
Hallvar easily beat the Queen to Saltkrow Keep, so this moment was mostly an exercise in patience. Pipkin could keep up with the large bird in short bursts, though she needed to rest frequently. Her little body wasn’t made for long flights or migrations like regular birds. Hibernation, perhaps, but not migration.
She munched on a fresh fish with enthusiasm, filling her belly before the trouble started. Hallvar knew she could become sick if she didn’t eat frequently enough, and who knew if this confrontation would take minutes or hours?
The hero watched the Queen enter her keep, crossing the courtyard like a swan through an algae-covered pond. Much later, she was spotted passing by an upper window connected to a balcony, undoubtedly cleaning, eating, and dressing before any judgment could occur.
Soldiers escorted Anton across the ward, interrupted by the Commander Rask. He seemed a decent fellow, though Hallvar knew nothing of him. With shouting and gesturing, the soldiers were dismissed. A hushed conversation passed between the two advisors, who walked away out of sight.
Hrm, conflicting orders. Did the King-Consort still hold command until the Queen returned to her throne? Probably not. Royals didn’t just sit on their asses all day.
Twenty or so minutes later, a mage showed the guildmaster and Stella the correct route, entering the same area where the advisors disappeared. It was a hallway attached to the keep, on the lowest level. Was that where the throne room was located?
Hallvar clicked and gave Pipkin an internal order to stay put. They didn’t have a skill for this ability, but it seemed taming a beast allowed rudimentary communication to be established.
The hero circled the castle out of curiosity, hunting down those massive stained-glass windows.
They were correct. The first floor of the keep was the throne room, built with plenty of exterior arches and reinforcements to maintain stability.
They settled down next to Pipkin, ripping off a chunk of fish cheek to snack on while they watched their anthill entertainment.
It was hard to tell how much time passed as a bird, but eventually the movement stalled by the Queen’s windows, indicating that she was no longer present.
Soon.
A cluster of people entered that special door; Hallvar noted a few staves and what looked like uniforms. Castle servants, perhaps? A physician, noted by their rolled sleeves. Was this one of the higher-ranking physicians in the castle? The Queen was drawing quite a crowd.
Hallvar tried to not think about the fact that it was their own judgment that was drawing a crowd, a judgment which the Queen and King-Consort would decide.
A man jogged across the ward. Dark brown hair, sleeveless tunic. Ah, the brawler. He seemed to be a decent person, one of the better heroes by far if Hallvar was allowed that assessment.
They alerted Pipkin to movement and swooped off the tower, reassembling themselves into a human just behind Gryphon.
“Wait up,” Hallvar called with forced nonchalance. Their akergryph landed on their pauldron, settling in comfortably to observe.
The brawler paused, thinking he was being stopped by a soldier friend, but he did a double-take upon spotting Hallvar.
“Ah, you seem alive and well for a dead man,” Gryphon proclaimed with a slow-forming smile.
He didn't hesitate to greet the 5th hero, not really. The rumors suggested that the red-haired adventurer had been dashed upon the rocks, and the King-Consort was merely covering up their death. So the 5th hero’s presence was surprising, to say the least.
“We’ll know if I stay alive after this meeting, I guess.”
The brawler laughed. He went to wrap his arm around the taller man’s shoulders in a little physical camaraderie but stopped short of smacking Pipkin on accident.
He backed off, slapping Hallvar's shoulder instead.“The name’s Gryphon, since we’re meeting.”
“Hallvar,” they nodded in greeting. “I don’t think I got to tell anyone that last time, huh?”
Gryphon laughed, continuing to walk to the entry inside. “Ah, sure. Was a lot of words for no good result, that.”
They entered the hallway, where Hallvar paused. “I should let you go in without me. Don’t want you to get shafted by affiliation.”
The brawler stared down the 5th hero with a bemused look. “No bother, at all.”
Then Gryphon leaned in, speaking conspiratorially. “If it’s no matter of surviving, I would rather tie my horse to your sort than Leon’s. He’s gone off, that one.”
Hallvar and Gryphon were so clearly from different parts of their home world, but the man still made sense. It was funny how that paced, rural pattern of speaking broke through in a world where their original accents didn’t exist.
“It’s your funeral,” the 5th hero said, reluctantly gesturing for Gryphon to go in first.
“Nah, it’s yours first, remember?” the brawler snapped back with a laugh, making Hallvar grimace with uncomfortable anticipation.
The pair slipped inside the throne room, immediately confronted by how full the hall felt. The initial judgement of Hallvar took place with maybe a dozen people and a few guards present; now, there were dozens of people left standing – and more seated on benches and chairs, each dressed elegantly or professionally.
Were these nobles? Court attendees hoping to garner favor with the Queen? Or was this catastrophic meeting simply the talk of the castle?
The crowd meant that Hallvar escaped immediate notice, especially since there was a tense discussion happening in the front already.
“— to defend expending our dynasty’s summoning without explicit permission?”
The brawler indicated for Hallvar to follow with a wave. His kindness was interrupted by two soldiers approaching the 5th hero, presumably to shackle them once more.
“The Kingdom is overdue a System Flare, with rumors from the west concerning increased [ territory ] activity. As I knew you—” The conversation faded into the background.
Gryphon whisper-yelled at the nearest guard, leveling an expertly executed push with his foot at the guard’s breastplate. “Feck off, Martin, they’re with me.”
The second guard hesitated when Gryphon brandished a fist at them in admonishment. They had a near-silent debate of aggravated hand gestures before the soldiers conceded that they would not be able to arrest Hallvar without a duel with the brawler.
Fuck, it was nice to have friends.
From the thrones: “Our absence does not permit misuse of royal magics, Cyciphos. Do not pretend that these rumors warranted anything further than a letter of warning.”
Hallvar unconsciously rolled their wrists and flexed their fingers, instinctively realigning bones in case their talons were needed. Pipkin bristled on their shoulder; the hero clicked softly at her to calm the akergryph down.
The brawler led Hallvar along the side of the crowd. This was a room that was far more familiar to the primary heroes than the lost one. A few nobles and castle staff cast surprised looks at the red-haired hero, but none spoke up.
“My Queen, the summoning was conducted to defend our kingdom. I had no means of establishing your location or safety. With the summit counsel in progress in Staareaux, there—”
Gryphon practically shoved Hallvar into a seat next to the mage hero, who was startled by the sudden intrusion and shrunk away on the long bench. The brawler took a seat next to Leon, who glared back over his shoulder at the 5th hero. It was a good call; Hallvar doubted sitting next to Leon would have resulted in anything pleasant.
They gave an apologetic look to the mage hero, understanding upon a second of reflection that she was shorter than Stella, which meant Hallvar was still towering over her while seated. They weren’t trying to be intimidating, but Hallvar supposed their reputation (and height) preceded them.
In an attempt to be friendly, Hallvar coaxed Pipkin onto their gloved hand, holding the little akergryph near the mage hero. The beast laid there with her paws spread wide, like a tiny chihuahua ready to pounce into action, but she tilted her birdy head back and forth as she assessed the mage.
The girl cautiously held out a finger to the beast, who nipped it immediately. With a squeak, the mage retreated. Hallvar repressed a laugh, holding out their own taloned finger to show the mage that the nipping was friendly, not angry.
They demonstrated how to pet the top of Pipkin’s head; the mage followed suit and let out a quiet aww as the akergryph leaned into the touch. Hallvar gently deposited the beast onto the book in the mage’s lap, where she settled down to watch her new friend.
As quietly as possible, the 5th hero leaned in and pointed to the akergryph. “Pipkin.” To themselves. “Hallvar.” And then to the mage.
She answered. “Cait.”
Continuing, Hallvar pointed at the others. “Gryphon. Leon. Sivanos?”
The archer looked back and issued a quick correction in a hushed tone. “Si-VA-nos. Si- like sickle, not sí.”
“Nos like nosotros?” Hallvar questioned in return. They were not fluent, but high school classes served them well enough.
The archer raised an eyebrow but only nodded, returning their attention to the front.
Well, the archer came from a… country that spoke that language. The inability to refer to location names from their homeworld was much more impactful than Hallvar realized.
The argument continued from the royals. Now that Hallvar was seated, they could observe the debate. It was hard to see everything as others sat in front of the heroes, people of greater status in the castle complex, but Hallvar could see the Queen on her throne.
An indignant voice came from the front.
Cyciphos.
“If this is a matter of state, then what is done is done, but if this is a personal conflict, then the court has no purpose in attendance. I would hope that my years of companionship and service to the Crown meant more than—”
“Silence,” came the measured order from the Throne.
“You have brought this into a matter of the court. You ignored our advisors, stooping so low as to magically silence their concerns. You gave orders to our champions and our soldiers to commit acts they were reticent to do, as they knew I would not approve.”
The 5th hero could tell by the tone that our really meant my, but it was some royal thing.
“Those are not the actions of authority, nor are they actions befitting royalty by marriage. The title of King-Consort will be in abeyance until further judgment proceeds.”
A not-so-hushed murmur fell over the crowd. Hallvar would admit that they didn’t entirely understand what was happening, but it sounded like the Queen was scolding Cyciphos, so Hallvar was on board.
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“The question of your right to summon the heroes is decided. We shall hear of your treatment of the advisors, the castle staff and forces, and the heroes, to determine if you retain your present role in Amnasín.”
Hallvar tried not to grin. The Queen did not intend to let Cyciphos make his excuses without proof.
And she didn’t. The interviews took hours, with stools and chairs and other seats subtly brought in by those standing in the back so they could continue to attend the “meeting” without injuring their knees.
Hallvar was grateful that they fed Pipkin, even more grateful when Cait disappeared to use the bathroom or something and returned with some small snacks that the akergryph could easily share. She took to the little beast like it was her emotional support animal, focusing on Pipkin when the discussion got particularly intense.
Each advisor was called to the front to report on their treatment before the summoning of the heroes, notably the days immediately preceding the actual ritual.
Windhelm’s position in the advisory council became clear; ze was a system mage, yes, but ze was well-versed in the local socio-political landscape. Windhelm had no contact with the heroes other than a cursory lecture about cultural norms and social expectations, so hir report focused on Cyciphos’ refusal to listen to any advice.
The gist was that a summoning performed without the Queen would be immediately detrimental to the King-Consort’s status and his perceived authority, viewed as either a betrayal or preparation for a war on the horizon, risking panic. Cyciphos had been well-aware of the consequences of his actions.
Rask was indeed the Commander of Amnasín’s forces. With no subtlety, he expressed distinct displeasure in receiving multiple orders to cater to the heroes like they were minor royalty. It cut into planned [ territory ] culls, particularly when the King-Consort demanded not only soldiers but knights be sent along with the heroes on minor training exercises.
When asked to report on the days preceding the summoning, Rask apologized and made his report clear. Cyciphos repeatedly noted rumors from the west as a source of his demands for the summoning, but Rask knew of no such concerns. The system flares fell under the Commander’s purview to predict and control. Even if there was mere gossip about omens of a flare, that would arrive on Rask’s desk immediately.
Anton Morozov was, perhaps, the key component of establishing Cyciphos’ intentions prior to the actual summoning. He was the Court Mage and the only summoner capable of enacting the ritual – with magical input from other mages, of course.
He spoke of immediately reporting Cyciphos’ queries about the summoning to the enigmatic Spymaster, who sent off a missive to the Queen. When Morozov was not as compliant as Cyciphos hoped, the King-Consort began to question other court mages, who reported their concerns to Anton.
Eventually, Cyciphos gave the order to prepare for the summoning. He refused to accept input from Rask or Windhelm, and he outright silenced Morozov when he spoke up against the idea.
The Court Mage continued with further reports of the same treatment – at any meeting, engagement, casual passing in the hallway, if Morozov expressed a touch of polite dissent, the King-Consort would silence him.
Hallvar didn’t know if the phrase toxic workplace existed here, but they sure needed it.
The subordinate mages and knights were requested to confirm such conversations; staff were queried if they witnessed Ser Morozov and the other advisors being silenced magically.
The Queen accepted this information placidly, unmoved. She requested the heroes to approach, beginning with Sivanos.
Sivanos, noted as a Fighter, subclass Ranger.
They acknowledged their experiences in the same deferent but neutral tone the soldiers took. Cyciphos offered up a yearly wage for each hero, heavily implying that only those who were oathed to the Crown would be able to receive it after the first year.
According to Sivanos, the offer shifted after a month. Now, it was “oathed to the ruler” or some phrasing that did not mention the Queen or the throne directly. The ranger admitted that they had no interest in politics or, truly, the social graces of the kingdom, but they did find it questionable that “ruler” became the default term.
When prompted by the Queen to explain their motivations to behave as a hero, as all reports indicated that Sivanos expressed no opinions, the ranger stalled. They took an uncomfortable few moments to think before speaking.
“I was without adequate food, water, or shelter for most of my prior life. I want the year’s wage promised as compensation for the summoning, in reassurance that I will not suffer again.”
Hallvar glanced at the mage girl next to them, as she visibly sagged under the weight of the confession. She looked young up close, very young.
The sisterly instinct kicked in, regardless of Hallvar’s current gender. They patted her hand as reassurance, for whatever that was worth. The 5th hero caught Gryphon’s concerned gaze as he glanced back at Cait too.
Sivanos continued, undeterred. “The King-Consort offered then withheld the wage until the time at which an oath occurred. Whether or not I choose to pledge myself to the Crown, I would like that offer upheld.”
“It will be,” the Queen confirmed.
She gave an order to a treasurer or financial scholar to arrange for payment to the five heroes of 50 heads each.
Hallvar’s brows knitted together. Five heroes? Were they included? Did that mean the Queen wasn’t considering execution, if she planned to pay them?
The topic turned to the 5th hero, which made Hallvar very uncomfortable.
The tension was palpable in this room. They didn’t know how to handle being spoken about like they weren’t present. At least if they were front and center they didn’t have to see people glance their way.
Did Sivanos know of the 5th hero’s existence? No, not until the day of the judgment.
Was Sivanos aware of any repercussions the 5th hero experienced after the judgment? They spotted the 5th hero being taken up from a lower floor, propped up as if near-unconsciousness, but Sivanos did not know of any of the specific events.
Hallvar’s face burned red as they remembered that moment in time, feeling embarrassed that they were witnessed half dead and feverish.
Gryphon was brought up next. He winked at Cait as he left, trying to reassure the girl who sat rigidly in her seat.
Gryphon, Fighter, subclass brawler.
His account was largely the same as Sivanos; however, he spent much more time with the soldiers and understood the world through their eyes.
Gryphon knew what exactly the oath was – a Rule of Binding administered by the Court Mage, with very specific verbiage regarding how they were to act and benefit the Kingdom. Upon completion, they would be shifted to the Champion class, with all their prior class traits intact.
The brawler was very abrupt in his explanation, much akin to the stern Commander Rask. He insisted that he once lived in an area whose land was overtaken by a Monarch, and the idea of claimed authority by force did not sit well in Gryphon’s eyes. He did not mind serving a just ruler, but not by Oath, not until all this was resolved.
The King-Consort’s attempted woo-ing failed to account for Gryphon’s own opinions, which he brought up at the Queen’s insistence.
“I’ve mentioned this to bedfellows as a point of consent, so it may well be heard. I was as old as you are, Your Majesty, when I died. Mind’s centered itself on a 25 year old’s priorities and capabilities, but the memories remain.”
Uh-oh. Hallvar glanced at the others, noting that both Cait and Leon shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The death-before-summoning was a secret among them, then?
“And I remember many a man offering me things to do something I hated. Back then, I had to agree. Women were lesser than men at the time I was born. We couldn’t hold money or make decisions without our man being present.”
Gryphon being old made… sense, in some way. Hallvar used to know some grannies who behaved wilder than their grandchildren.
The brawler nodded his chin at the King-Consort. “He reminds me of that. Couldn’t go half the day without him asking if I changed me mind or pushing a social hour on us to throw luxuries in our lap. I said I’d agree when it pleased me to.”
The Queen seemed intrigued by the new information Gryphon provided, but she kept calm.
“We appreciate your insight. Are we correct to assume you died immediately prior to the summoning?”
Gryphon’s reaction was largely the same as Hallvar’s when faced with the realization that the summoners did not know what they were doing – bewilderment and confusion.
“Ah, sure. Soul leaves a corpse, inhabits a new one in this world. Or another world, not my business where. Didn’t you know?”
“Is this true of all the heroes?”
The brawler turned back to glance at the others; many of those in attendance followed his eyeline to the four remaining heroes desperately trying not to attract attention to themselves.
“It’s so. The last heroes came and went hundreds of years ago, yes? In our world, current times, we have stories – fictional stories – of people transported to other worlds for destiny. Your old heroes might been afraid to explain, since those stories didn’t exist long ago. I died on my sick bed; the rest weren’t likely lucky. None of us talk about it much.”
The Queen turned her gaze to the heroes now, addressing Sivanos. “And you?”
The archer froze when put on the spot. “Is- Is this necessary, Your Highness?”
“For our elucidation, yes. Your experience dictates how you act in our Kingdom.”
Hallvar’s blood ran cold. They imagined the others were going through similar experiences, coming to terms with the public nature of this outing.
“I was murdered, Your Majesty.” Sivanos admitted with visible discomfort. “You do not have guns here. They are similar to bows, but fire faster than the eye can see, faster than a person can react.”
“Therefore, you chose archery.”
Sivanos looked away, a gentle defiance as they avoided responding to the Queen.
“We appreciate your honesty, Hero Gryphon, Hero Sivanos.”
The Queen asked a few more questions of the brawler, which gave Hallvar a growing unease.
Did Gryphon know of the 5th hero’s existence? Yes, but not as a hero. They shared a drink in Claylake Post after Leon caused a scene.
Was Gryphon aware of any repercussions the 5th hero experienced after the judgment? Yes, but only whispers among the soldiers. Talk of drawing the metaphorical short straw to carry out physical punishment. Some were reluctant to obey, as the heroes were technically Kingdom property, regardless of the King-Consort’s orders.
This was clarified by the Queen as Gryphon questioned it. The label of property was an archaic term but one that was necessary.
Heroes, by nature of summoning, were not sovereign citizens of any nation. By claiming them as property, the kingdom made it clear to other nations that heroes could not easily be stolen or killed as outlanders or foreigners with no political ties.
It was a method of protection that came with an unfortunate implication.
Gryphon seemed to accept this answer. He thought it was similar to the Oath the soldiers mentioned. They were sworn to the kingdom, and therefore the kingdom protected them.
If the heroes were property of the kingdom by these terms, the kingdom was honor bound to protect them.
The Queen called Cait to the front. Hallvar could feel themselves sweating. That meant Leon, then Hallvar. The order had to be correct, as Hallvar was the primary freak of this show.
They were so tied in knots that Hallvar failed to notice Pipkin riding along with Cait, clinging to the embroidery on her dress. Their internal magnet marked her as moving, but it took Hallvar more time than it should have to realize where she was.
Cait, Mage class, no current subclass.
Cait’s story differed from the others. She was fortunate to be a mage, which meant “Mister Anton” was in charge of her education. While it seemed Cait was largely shielded from the King-Consort’s action, he did come off as vaguely predatory in the girl’s retelling.
Not in a sexual way, but certainly using his authority to convince Cait it was good and correct to swear to the Kingdom, to him. That was what she was expected to do, and she wouldn’t want to let people down.
Cait didn’t seem to know what to say, so it took a lot of questions from the Queen to reach any conclusion.
The Queen found this curious.
“How old are you, Hero Cait?”
The girl’s eyes flickered upward, as if checking the system. “Seventeen.”
“And you died as well?”
“Yes, um, murdered too.”
Gryphon audibly sighed, watching the girl with concern.
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen, miss—Your Majesty.”
The Queen turned her attention to the advisors. “Windhelm, ensure that Lady Cait is enrolled in an academy immediately.”
Cait seemed confused, rocking on her feet with her staff held tightly.
“Lady Cait, you are not of age to make any oaths. Your status as a hero does not change your lack of education or experience. You have an opportunity to pursue your education, funded by the Crown.”
“Am I in trouble?” the girl asked.
“No,” the Queen answered. “You are no longer responsible for performing as a hero of Amnasín until you are of age.”
Cait seemed to understand this, but she hesitated, waiting for the Queen’s next order.
The royal looked her over and showed a momentary glimpse of compassion. “Hero Gryphon, have you said all that you intend to?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Escort Lady Cait elsewhere.”
The brawler complied, walking with the girl to the entrance of the throne room. Hallvar had a moment of panic, remembering the akergryph’s location. They let out a short whistle in the silence of the throne room.
Pipkin returned to Hallvar immediately, landing on their offered arm, but the act was not without consequence. Nearly every eye turned to the red-haired hero, who took their seat with clear regret.
“It is not yet your turn, Hero Hallvar.”
Though it seemed to be a reprimand from the Queen, the hero felt that it was more like Anton’s dry commentary. An acknowledgement, but not without salt.
Leon didn’t have a chance to throw Hallvar a dirty look before he was summoned to testify.
Leon, Fighter class, no current subclass.
The Queen seemed well-prepared, as she did not allow the charisma hero to give half-truths and partial answers to any question.
Leon tried to sing the King-Consort’s praises, but the Queen was more than capable of interrupting his silver-tongued explanation.
Cyciphos provided luxury and only asked for loyalty, something Leon was more than willing to endorse. He tried to argue against pointed questions assessing his selfishness or perceived greed but he failed to establish any counterpoints.
“How did you die, Hero Leon?”
The man looked taken aback, even though he knew to expect this. “It has no consequence on my actions, Your Majesty. I took what was clearly offered to me by King-Consort Cyciphos and that was my right.”
“A death that caused you to seek power. Our knights reported your attempt to arrest Hero Hallvar, which you have no authority to order.”
“He assaulted the princess, a crime which I sought justice for, Your Majesty.”
“Their actions will be assessed in time. Our question remains on your motivations. If you refuse to answer, we will assume that your lack of power caused your death, therefore you sought power in Amnasín while choosing to ignore the discontent around you.”
“That is—” Leon seemed to actively struggle for words, trying to remain civil in the face of the Queen. “I sought justice! That is what heroes are for.”
“We will address your ignorance on another day, Hero Leon.”
The Queen did not allow him to continue his aggravated insistence, instead asking him the same questions as the others.
Did Leon know of the 5th hero’s existence? No, not as a hero. The wannabe princeling failed to mention their scuffle at Claylake Post. Coward.
Was Leon aware of any repercussions the 5th hero experienced after the judgment? No, of course not.
The pompous ass sat down after a hard glare at the 5th hero; Hallvar had to fight the urge to heel kick Leon off the bench. Might feel good but it would solve nothing.
The Queen spent some time deliberating while her court waited impatiently, a few whispers spread among the nobles.
Pipkin sensed Hallvar’s discomfort and pushed herself into their palm. If the human would not provide butt scratchies, she would do it herself.
The akergryph was very sweet; she had no idea what drama was unfolding around her. Her silly nature did bring a smile to Hallvar’s face, lightening the mood a bit.
They angled a talon to scratch her hindquarters, gently using the side instead of the point. She was content to receive the attention until the paper parcel of dried fruit and nuts Cait brought as a snack caught her eye. It sat forgotten on the bench; Pipkin eagerly skittered along the polished wood to the feast.
A decision was made, one that the Queen could not take administer lightly.