Capital City of Gremelda
Royal Palace Council Chambers
“The sickness appears to have run its course. We haven’t seen a fresh case within Gremelda in over three weeks, your Majesty.” Duke Alistair said, as he flipped over the final page of the document before him.
The room exhaled a collective breath, the relief palpable if short-lived. A tense silence remained among the council. They knew that this reprieve was but a fleeting comfort.
“Stars blaze upon us that it remains the case,” muttered Earl Hugo Valmont. “Between that disaster up north and the sickness, we’ve lost a dangerous portion of influential nobles.” His voice carried with it the strain of several long and difficult weeks.
Archmage Highbridge let out a scoff, arguing, “That they were all mages should be more important. We’ve lost nearly thirty percent of our gifted population in less than a year.”
The number of deaths had been whispered in dark corners of the palace and throughout Gremelda. But having the harsh truth cast out of the shadows and into the light, the reality of their losses was staggering.
Countess Isla’s voice was quiet, her throat squeezing the words as they left her mouth. “We will have to hide this from the public. If our neighbors catch wind of this, they’ll come for us, and we’ll be too weak to stop them.”
Before the conversation could spiral into political maneuvering, the Archmage brought the attention back to herself with a snap of her fingers, the sound echoing around the room by her Gift. “That is the least of our concerns,” she said, her tone sever. “We know this was no ordinary sickness with how our healers have struggled to contain it. But the Office of Inquisition has investigated, and were able to trace the source of the disease back to Alden and the failed campaign. This wasn’t just a coincidence—it was an attack, a planned use of a weapon we’ve never seen.”
The king, who had been sitting hunched and silent, lifted his head. His dark eyes narrowed. “A weapon? How?”
Countess Isla took up the explanation, her voice coming out steady this time, but still grave. “The Aldenians lured us into a trap, Your Majesty. The mine we were after, the one reportedly filled with manadrite... it was a ruse. There was no mine. They used it to draw our army and, more importantly, our mages north.”
The air in the room quickly became suffocating as heat radiated off of the king. His control slipping and some of his Gift leaking out.
“A trap?” he growled.
The Archmage nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. The sickness began there, spreading through our ranks—and it specifically targeted the Gifted.”
Looks of utter despair crossed the faces of the other council members as they processed the enormity of what she had just said.
Breaking decorum, the king rose from his seat and poured himself a large glass of wine, tossing it back, he asked, “How is this possible?”
“We do not know, Your Highness, but a letter from our former Lord Marshal was put to our best strategic minds and we believe that the Aldenian’s are limited in their use of this sickness, or disease. He believes that this is a form of attack we shouldn’t fear being brought to our own lands. It is likely a limited resource or possibly even something that could only be used once. It is the logical explanation for why the Aldenian’s have never used it before.” Explained Countess Isla.
Frustrated at the mention of the Lord Marshal, the king mumbled to himself and began pacing, his words too low to hear.
A few moments later, he raised his voice and asked, “Have we seen any movement from the Aldenian’s since they ran us out of their forests?”
“No, Your Highness. It is our understanding that they are watching and waiting to see how much damage their attack will do.” Answered Countess Isla.
Seeing that the king’s focus was shifting, the Archmage cleared her throat. “We have a larger if longer-term problem that we still need to discuss.”
The king, stopped in mid-step whirling on the woman with a sneer, “What could possibly be more important than loosing a third of our Gifted and our enemies having a weapon that can kill off what’s left of our kingdom’s greatest assets?”
“The loss of them all , your Majesty.” Her tone of absolute seriousness sliced through the room like a knife.
The king blinked, taken aback. His sneer fading as the weight of her words settled in. “Explain,” he croaked.
Sweeping her gaze across the council, the Archmage sighed. “We’ve always struggled maintaining our mage population. The Gift is rarer in men than women, and so we’ve made every effort to secure our magical bloodlines. That’s why we try to ensure that mages marry mages whenever possible.”
the king waved his hand impatiently, “I know that, we all know that, but why is that a problem now?”
“It’s our losses. It’s not just the number, but who it was that we lost, Your Highness. Between the campaign to Alden and the disease, we’ve lost over 50% of our male gifted. If this continues, Rivenna’s magical bloodlines will die out.” Her admission was met with complete and utter silence as each member exchanged a glance with those around them. Desperately hoping this revelation to be some kind of sick joke.
When no laugh was forthcoming, the king fell into his seat, his head cradled in his hands in defeat, “What do you recommend we do?”
*****
County Wycliffe
One Year Later
“Good! Good!” Garrick called, motioning to a nearby guard to grab a practice weapon and join in. “Now it’s two on one, boy. What should you do?” Demanded the master-at-arms.
“Run until I find two more on my side—sir!” Q yelled in answer, earning a laugh from the surrounding spectators.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
With a laugh of his own, Garrick inched closer. “That’d work, but you don’t have anyone else here. It’s just you. Now, what are you going to do?”
Two vs. one, no way to escape… both are using a sword and shield, Q thought. Not good. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Q considered what options he had available to him, there was really only one that he could see having a chance.
Charging forward, Q pivoted to the side, placing the guard between Garrick and himself. Q lunged and made his shorter stature work for him with a strike to the man’s exposed legs. The guard yelped and hopped back. But Q never halted his advance, continuing to push forward. He used his momentum to drive his shield into the guard’s, knocking him back a step and further off balance. The man stumbled back, but secured his footing.
WHAM!
Q was sent flying as Garrick’s shield collided with his now exposed side. Landing with an awkward roll, Q managed to get to his feet. He was going to be too late, the practice armor he wore weighed just enough to slow him how, but he made the effort anyway. he spun around, ready for the next attack.
It never came.
Garrick, standing several feet away, applauded by beating his sword against his shield. “Well done, Q. A two on one fight is never a good position to be in. You analyzed the situation, made a decision, and acted. In a real fight, that could have saved your life. Unfortunately for you…” The man stopped, pausing for dramatic affect, “I am simply too good for you!” He said with laugh. “Now, go get cleaned up. We’re done for the day.”
Q nodded his understanding and turned to approach the guard, thanking him for his efforts, and ensuring sure he was OK after taking Q’s strike. With the guards reassurance, he exited the practice field and made his way inside the house.
Ed, Henry, and Nadine looked down from the second story terrace where they’d been watching their grandson train.
“He really is getting quite good,” Nadine observed.
Henry nodded in agreement, “With those instincts and a few more years of training, he is going to be a dangerous man to fight.”
Their musings were cut short by Ed’s uncharacteristic shout.
“Are they out of their star-falling minds? !”
Startled, Henry and Nadine turned in their chairs to face Ed. Henry’s mouth was drawn tight and a deep furrow settled between his brows. She was likewise worried, her eyes flitting back and forth between her husband and the open letter grasped tightly in his hands.
“Dear?” Nadine questioned.
Holding out the paper to his wife, Ed explained, “The Archmage and the Mages Council have lost all sense.” Pausing to take a drink from the tea laid before him, he continued. “To start, they requested I return as a Councilman. They’ve lost two and would prefer to refill those same positions with men.”
Henry raised a brow. “You said to start. Is that not bad enough already?”
Scoffing, Ed raised an eyebrow of his own in return, “ Like you haven’t received a request to take back up the mantel of Lord Marshal? They still haven’t been able to keep it filled.”
“Of course I have, requests from the King’s Council, but I have received nothing from the King. I am justified in my right to tell each and every one of them to fuck off.” Realizing his lapse in decorum, he turned to Nadine to apologize, but the words died in his throat at what he saw. She had lost all color and looked on the verge of fainting.
“Countess? Are you well?”
Nadine’s hands began to shake as she looked up from the letter, “Edmund..?”
“No my love, I would not sully our marriage in such a fashion. Star blasted Mages Council or not.”
“ What, by starry night, are you two talking about?” Asked Henry, the furrow somehow managing to create more lines across his forehead.
“Here, read it for yourself.” Reaching over to his wife, he held out his hand for the paper. He passed it to Henry, “In addition to the letter requesting my return to the Council, we received a Royal Edict from His Majesty instituting new laws to govern Rivennan mages.”
Royal Edict of His Majesty King Frederick the Grand
To all loyal subjects of the realm,
Be it known and declared throughout the kingdom, that in the interest of peace, prosperity, and the future of magic in our realm, and by the power and authority vested in us by the ancient laws of our forefathers, the following decree is herby enacted and shall be observed by all subjects, under penalty of law:
1.) On the Regulation of Marriage:
In order to ensure the continued prosperity and stability of our kingdom, we hereby decree that all gifted males of the realm shall wed no less than three gifted females by their twenty-fifth name day. As an alternative.
2.) On the Birthing of the Next Generation:
The mage population of the Kingdom is a vital resource in protecting the people of the realm. To ensure its continued growth, each husband and wife pairing in accordance with the preceding edict shall be responsible for birthing two children for a total of six children per male gifted.
3.) On the Strengthening of the Mage Core:
To augment the above edicts, any citizen of the realm that can prove the conception of a male gifted’s child, will be given compensation to ensure the health and well-being of said child.
This edict shall take effect immediately upon its proclamation in every town and city throughout the realm.
Given under our hand and seal of the Royal Court in Gremelda, this first day of Lyra, in the year of 1352.
By His Majesty's Command,
Frederick, King of Rivenna
Witnessed by:
Duke Alistair Wyndham, Minister of the Interior
Lady Elowen Highbridge, Archmage
Earl Hugo Valemont, Peerage Speaker
Looking up from the edict, Henry stared at the two with mouth agape. Never in his life had he been so flabbergasted.
“That,” said Ed, “Is desperation in written form if I’ve ever read it. Things must be truly horrendous for them to consider actions like those.”
“Considering!” Cried Nadine, “Edmund, they are far past considering. They’ve already done it, signed and approved by the King.”
Ed climbed out of his seat and knelt at his wife’s side. “I will say it once more, my dear. I will not take another wife, let alone two. If things are this dire, what are they going to do, kill me?”