Collin’s new bow was an interesting one. Maintaining it was almost a waste, its elasticity and strength were sustained in the very same way his own body’s were- natural self-repair. An organic thing, almost. With limbs akin to bone and a string seemingly made of tendinous tissue. When Shaiagrazni had first made a gift of it, he’d been hesitant to accept.

For all of a second. Then Collin had remembered the other things he’d created, and decided to give it a go. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he wasn’t disappointed.

It wasn’t just that it could store a ludicrous amount of tension with each draw- though, of course, it was no less than an equal to his steel-limbed original weapon in that respect. It was that it possessed a muscular strength of its own to add on to Collin’s, making itself known both in the drawing and loosing of every arrow.

He put another of those arrows in the air, and watched it thud into its target. A post, solid steel, inches thick in every direction. Collin had marked the shaft of his weapon to track its depth in increments of quarter-inches, and was pleased to see another one added to the average from his last weapon.

A small difference, perhaps, but he’d take all the advantages he could. The world seemed to be throwing him into a deadlier fight with each new one he entered, and Collin had no interest in finding himself rotting under the sun for want of a decent arm.

“Have a spare minute, my boy?”

Collin froze, then turned. He’d already recognised king Galukar, of course, by voice alone. His Ranger’s ears could have picked out as much from a quarter-mile over the sound of howling winds and trebuchet impacts. It was the tone of the king’s voice which sent a shiver down his spine.

He sounded friendly.

“What for?” Collin asked, careful not to speak in any way which might invite further socialisation. The king seemed oblivious to his efforts, however, merely smiling at him the way an uncle might. Not that Collin had any uncles, they’d all died as children when people like king Galukar starved them.

“About what’s going on.” The king replied. “And what we’re headed towards. Current events are rather…Dangerous. For all of us- even for me. And you in particular have seen your fair share of battle already, haven’t you? Why I’d wager you’ve fought more already than I had by the time I was a decade older.”

Collin wasn’t one to turn down praise, but that didn’t feel like what this was. The king sounded…Sad. Regretful even.

“That’s not strange for a Kaltan.” Collin replied, evenly. “Only difference is I went into it personally trained by Finlay Baird, plenty of others have fought just as hard, and with a much harder start.”

It was all true, and important to say. For all his talk of revolution and exploitation, Collin was under no illusions that his father hadn’t paved a nice and easy way for him. He hadn’t lived half as hard a life as the original Baird, let alone the other kids benefiting from his rule in place of the aristocracy’s.

“And yet that changes nothing, you’re still a young man. Still new to the life you risk so constantly.” Was Galukar’s response. “You stand close to death, and closer each time you face down a new one, yet you have not even fathered a son of your own to carry on your family’s name.”

Collin couldn’t think of a seamless way to end the conversation without sparking up yet more friction later, but by God did he give it a fucking try.

“I think I have bigger things to worry about, at the moment.” He noted. “We all do.”

Galukar laughed.

“Oh, is that so? And yet I’ve seen you worrying about it plenty, eh?”

Dear fucking God.

“The Princess Ado,” He continued, “She’s been catching your eye quite a lot, eh?”

Maybe if he just dived through the wall he could be out of visual distance before the king started sprinting after him.

“I can’t blame you my boy, she’s a fine young woman. Healthy, well-bred and with excellent breeding hips.”

That, it seemed, was the limit. Collin stood up, clutched his bow tight enough to crush a weaker weapon and started marching away. “I need to practise.” He barked, a fairly truthful statement all things considered. He did need to shoot something.

***

Sphera found King Galukar apparently in the middle of terrorising Collin Baird, albeit accidentally. She waited for their conversation to conclude, then closed in to speak with the giant oaf as the younger man scrambled away like a rat fleeing fire.

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The King turned to meet her approach with his gaze, then his lip curled at the sight of her. Sphera paid it no heed, his lip tended to do that when he saw anything not strictly confined within the bounds of his rather mundane world view.

“Necromancer.” He greeted her, though really it was conveyed as more of an angry slur. Sphera met his fire with her own ice, finding that the most appropriate response in most such situations.

“King Galukar.” She smiled, bowing the exact minimum amount she reasoned would be needed to convey a level of respect he would find pleasing. “It appears we are to work with one another for this next mission. I know we have our differences, particularly regarding that rather unfortunate incident with your sons, but I hope we can put them aside for the greater good.”

She would not allow this grunting barbarian to sabotage things for her, that much was for sure. Sphera did not know even one tenth- even one hundredth- of all there was to learn about House Shaiagrazni. But she knew that it operated unlike any noble family she’d ever heard of elsewhere. If she excelled, if she did well enough, she would leave her position of mere retainer behind and join her Master as…

Wife? No, certainly not with him, Sphera had learned that the hard way. Cousin, or sister, something akin to that. The particulars of their familial organisation and relations were still lost on her, but in any case to become a Named of House Shaiagrazni was to become an ostensive peer to Silenos himself.

Sphera would burn the world for that. She would burn it a thousand times over.

And of course she kept such things carefully to herself, for people like King Galukar so rarely tended to understand the glorious nature of such things. If nothing else, he seemed to be considering her offer rather more weightily than she might have expected. Could she truly get through to him?

Galukar punched her. Sphera didn’t see it happen, she didn’t even really feel it in the moment of impact. Just knew she had been punched by the rushing wind in her ears and the throbbing ache in her skull. She flew back hard enough to smash into a keratin-woven wall, bouncing hard off the surface and landing in a heap.

Her body had been reworked by Master Shaiagrazni for resilience and sturdiness, and as such she now possessed skin able to withstand arrows, viscera with the toughness of hard stone, and bones many times stronger than steel.

That she felt such racking, convulsive pain after a single strike from King Galukar was a testament to the man’s strength. Had she received such a blow prior to her reconstruction, Sphera had no doubt she would have been more than killed. She would have been obliterated.

“I will tell you two things, Necromancer.” King Galukar growled, striding over to stare down at her where she lay and gasped. “The first is that we have a long trek ahead. A very long one, so prepare your forces for such a march across relatively even, but occasionally hilled and silt-clotted, terrain.”

Sphera groaned, the pain was coming now. All at once, like a floodgate had broken in her mind. Everything hurt. Everything.

“The second.” Galukar continued, heedless of her torment, “Is that the blow you felt just now was not close to the limits of my strength. I held back to keep from permanently injuring a useful ally.”

And with that, he walked away. Sphera took some time more to get back up, even after he was long gone.

She really did fucking hate Abaritans.

***

“This isn’t fair.” Folami growled, pacing around his quarters in the command centre while Ado let herself remain rather less restlessly seated in one of its seats.

It really wasn’t a bad set of rooms, she had to say. Nothing compared to hers, of course, nor any of the living spaces afforded Shaiagrazni’s highest-ranked retainers. Still, for a man yet to actually contribute anything to their work, her brother was living remarkably comfortably.

He should have been grateful. Grateful for the luxury, and more grateful still for the damned opportunity to prove himself worth something. Instead, he tantrummed.

“I am the King’s eldest!” He snapped. “Me! I was raised for this, bred for this, it’s my destiny. How can this Shaiagrazni imbecile just hand everything that’s rightfully mine off to you? You’ve never even wanted the fucking throne.”

As a matter of fact, Ado had. But she’d learned not to expect any actual acknowledgement from men of…Well, really any thoughts or feelings another might have. Particularly Kings and their children. Life spent constantly thinking about a crown and what to do when it’s handed your way tended to make one somewhat aloof when it came to dealing with normal people.

“It’s not right!” Folami declared. “Nor bloody proper, you hear? Not at all!”

God, had he always sounded like this? Ado remembered a time when Folami’s fury had been a thing to fear, right alongside her father’s. Now…It was just pathetic. The impotent, mewling squawks of a tiny little boy whinging that a game was unfair once he finally started losing. How had she ever felt awed by this?

Lack of experience, obviously. She reminded herself. It was remarkable how fragile the authority of a crown felt when one saw a man create things with body weights measured in multiples of an elephant.. Silenos Shaiagrazni had been wrong about one thing; all forms of power were tertiary to the power of “can” or “cannot”.

“Silenos will find a great purpose for you.” Ado reassured him, because that was what one did with children. Handle them gently and carefully so they didn’t start squealing like a stuck pig all over again. In this case, it seemed, she had misjudged Folami’s emotional resilience. The squealing started anyway.

“Easy for you to say!” He snapped. “I’ve been made your General. Your fucking General, a woman’s!”

Ado felt her patience rapidly slipping away. Speaking to Folami was an exercise in recollection, and not anything that she’d have wanted to see swimming in front of her memory again.

“Instead of complaining about what you don’t have, why not focus on trying to get it?” She asked, modifying one of their father’s old quotes. As expected, Folami actually paused to consider that. Because if there was one thing capable of getting through to her brothers, Ado knew, it was a big old cock and balls dangling off whoever’s words they were hearing. Imbeciles.

“What are you suggesting?” He frowned.

“I am suggesting that Silenos Shaiagrazni declares himself a man who cares only of merit, yes? Well show him yours. Show the world, for that matter.”

Folami spat.

“You’re far too trusting, sister. Think, would you? Why am I not already in my proper station as King?”