"Unclear origin, ignorance and disregard for local laws and customs, vast trivial knowledge, continual references to 'where he's from', misaligned moral compass, strong personality, attracted to trouble, physically and mentally strong, propensity for unnecessary acts of charity, lack of familiarity with common sense, lack of knowledge of local history both recent and otherwise, the list goes on. He is not normal," A'Vahi said.

A'Vahi was in the presence of his queen.

"Is that all? Tell us now."

"That is not all. He belongs to an unheard-of class. Bladescribe."

"Intriguing. What are the abilities of a Bladescribe? Tell us now."

"That is yet unclear. But he is notably more potent in combat than his level would suggest, according to the Guild's database. While this is pure speculation, it can be assumed from the name that it is a hybridization of the Scribe class with some class that specializes in swordplay. Indeed, he seems to have tinkered with his wolfling slave's Dominion contract. In what way is unclear. I could not find the difference. I compared side-by-side with the local standard several times. Whatever the difference was, it was too small to notice. All that was clear was that it reacted differently to probe magic in a way that could only happen if the text differed. Also, the slave's loyalty seems to come from some place other than her contract bond—he does not give her orders, and indeed, she defies statements that the standard contract would treat as binding orders regularly."

"Is it possible that the contract was tinkered with before the slave fell into his hands?"

"Yes, in theory. But she came from the possession of an imperial noble. It is unlikely that he would have tinkered with it in such a way and devalued his investment."

"Very well. Your report has exceeded my expectations and introduced new potential avenues of investigation for us to pursue. This is worrying. We must act at once. If he is indeed the Millennial Hero, there may not be any time to spare."

"Yes, my queen."

"Go."

----------------------------------------

A week passed. The Pack ended up somewhere they didn't belong. Things weren't going as planned.

"Where the hell are we?" Blake said.

"Between a rock and a hard place," Riley said.

"I know that, that's not what I mean."

"Somewhere we don't belong," Nash said.

"The sky's blue."

"In front of the Demon Queen," Sophia said.

"Technically true."

"Silence, humans. You shall kneel before us."

They kneeled.

The Pack was in chains. Magically reinforced ones. Blake wouldn't be able to break such metal chains even if he tried, but if he could, the magic would've stopped him.

Man, we really shouldn't have stayed at that shady inn.

They'd showed up late at night at the Queensland border town the other day, with a new round of slaves to bring to Sky Crest. It was too late in the day for it to make sense to pass through and camp in the wilderness, so they stayed at the inn they once patronized. Big mistake, apparently. They should've camped out west of the border.

The hurried, blindfolded carriage ride here was kind of painful, too, because the roads were so rough. It made them all tired, even though they'd hardly walked around at all.

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The Demon Queen stood proud before them, in regal, ornate garb, covered in frills and silvery blue tinges. Her skin was pale, her eyes eyes were red, and her curly hair was set in twin ponytails, the front cut into flat bangs, with extra curls down the sides, in front of her small pointed ears. Her lips gave way to fangs when she spoke, and her eyes carried a magical red glow. She was just short enough that her demeanor became more threatening and powerful than it would be if she were of normal height, but not short enough for it to become comical.

She spoke.

"Heed us well. We know that you have been bringing Companions to us in the half-dozens to dozens to be freed. That much is acceptable. However... Have you seen the streets of our fair capital? The decay, the rot. We haven't the resources to maintain our own fair standard of living."

She paused.

"We are a kind girl. We will offer any downtrodden soul who finds themselves in our lands with open arms. But!"

She hammered her weapon—a strange spear-sword hybrid—into the floor beside her throne.

"Our resources grow thin, and our connections grow angry. If we take on that which we cannot carry, and begin to sink," she said, "it will not be to the surprise of any well-learned man if we should one day try to expand our domain once more. Do not misunderstand. We want no such thing. Our current state is secure and stable. We know our natural resources and the reasonable limits of their exploitation. We have fended off almost all hostilities and achieved peace, even for our people overborder. We have no desire to exterminate 'lesser' races or impose our will upon the world like our ancestors once attempted. We find comfort in our place looking down upon the world from this mountain, and are content to maintain it, and interface with the human world on our own terms as we do now."

Silence.

She hammered her weapon into the floor.

"You may speak," she said. "But know that your every statement is an action, and your actions bear out certainty in your fate."

"Yes," Blake said. "I understand your problems. I did what felt right with the circumstances I found myself in. I didn't want to leave any slaves I passed to sit there and rot. I did the best thing for them that I could with the least effort, without fully thinking through all the possible consequences, because they're people that I'm saving, damn it. With the limited information I had, though, I think I did a good job."

The rest of his party looked at him aghast. How brazen, saying he did a good job to the demon queen herself.

"By the way, what's the Emancipation Project?" he added.

"Indeed you did a 'good job'. That is why we summoned you here today. You are not here to be punished or fined for your recent deeds. You are here to be educated. And now you have been. We hope that the 'limited information' you hold is now enough to act in better judgment."

Silence.

"The Emancipation Project was a strategy we undertook to bolster our country's population after so many free humans left of their own free will. It was terminated once our numbers rose to stable levels and additional untrained hands would be of greater burden than benefit. There is no more to it than that."

She paused.

"There are rooms for you in the eastern wing of the palace. You will stay there tonight."

"We can—"

She hammered her weapon into the floor.

"We did not say that you could speak!"

Silence.

"The royal guard will escort you to your rooms. You will have another audience with us in the morning. You may leave in the afternoon—if all goes well. You will not attempt to leave until then. Be gone."

They nodded, silent, and were escorted out towards their rooms.

Sigh...

The probability that Blake was the Millennial Hero was rising. There were not many other explanations for that sort of twisted logic.

"A'Vahi."

"Yes, my queen."

A'Vahi left the shadows and prostrated in front of the queen.

"Identify that wolfling's original owner or owners and negotiate with them to disavow ownership of her. Convince the census assemblies of Greenwood, Icemarch, and Deltania to record her as a Protected Free Demihuman. Record all accomplishments in writing, with all relevant signatures, enforced by contract magic. Spare absolutely no expense, not even lives. Execute this with the greatest haste possible, leaving unused no communication magicks or diplomatic connections. Return done before the next dawn."

"Yes, my queen."

"Go."

He did not rise.

"Very well. You may speak."

"For what purpose, my queen?"

"Darkness like a cancer grows. Near silently, with no Dark Hero to carry out its will. The Song of Cycles, singing so clearly across the land in the language of pure magic, is halted. We know not the cause of its halt, or if it is merely a delay, or if forces beyond this world are acting on it. We must act to learn all things that can be learned, among such knowledge as is not hazardous to our current selves, and leave no stone unturned, least of all those stones before us as we stand. These specimens are wells of potential knowledge. We cannot risk that these specimens fall into the hands of the Empire. Under absolutely no condition shall we make such a mistake," she said.

"Understood, my queen."

"Go."

He left.