With plodding, ponderous steps, the nine-foot-tall golems clumsily walked around the courtyard, as if they weren’t used to moving.
And they weren’t, for within their chests were polished chunks of thunder wood amber, each one hosting a stone giant.
As Leon watched the small handful of giants move about, adapting to their new bodies, he couldn’t help but wonder if they might need a name change. It wasn’t hard to frown and dissuade himself of that notion, though—Tikos had only brought enough thunder wood amber to house the wisps of half a dozen stone giants, despite Nestor’s enthusiasm once he got his hands on the material. Apparently, it was a spectacular material for holding wisps, and Nestor implied that it might serve other purposes too, though he declined to say more before he could run enough tests.
But, for the time being, Leon was comfortable in knowing that they could at least get the stone giants better bodies than they had. Unfortunately, Tikos had admitted that scaling up the production of thunder wood amber would take years, possibly even decades, so the rest of the stone giants encased within Rakos would have to content themselves with more ‘normal’ stone bodies. Leon had already made arrangements for a small army of earth mages to assemble in a mustering field and create enough bodies for all of the stone giants, so Rakos wouldn’t be forced to carry his entire species around in his skin forever.
And, Leon hoped, once they could refine this process of housing wisps and wisp-descended entities within thunder wood amber, then the stone giants could control other things, like arks, new model MALLs, and more heavily armed and armored war golems. He easily envisioned a millennia from now when stone giants could be inserted into any kind of specialized frame to accomplish a task.
Going even further, his eyes turned to watch Nestor take notes while observing the giants in their new golem shells, there might even be a point when a mage might be able to pilot such frames with their magic bodies… though he kept that idea unspoken. A mage’s magic body was spectacularly fragile, and the safest place for it was in their soul realm. Losing it could lose a mage access to their soul realm, would be potentially mind-shatteringly painful, and could cripple them for life, as evidenced by Justin. Many mages might balk at piloting a golem with their magic body, but not when doing the same thing in their normal squishy human body.
Others wouldn’t, though, not to mention there was the possibility of building other war machines that could house not only wisps, giants, and mages’ magic bodies, but the mages’ physical bodies as well, so Leon didn’t completely dismiss the possibility. If nothing else, it would be something to look into in a few years.
For the moment, Leon was simply contented with what they had accomplished. The giants could be housed in golem shells, and that was a promising and spectacularly important step toward using them to make up for Leon’s need for wisps to help control arks capable of traversing the Void. Next to that need, everything else took a back seat.
“Other things were minded on my,” Tikos whispered next to Leon, drawing his attention away from the giants for the first time in several hours.
Leon blinked as he retrieved his mind from the deep thoughts it had sunk into, and said, “Oh? Please, do tell…”
Tikos’ leafy hair fluttered and Leon smelled the tree sprite’s hesitance. But Tikos didn’t hesitate long before it said, “Lotus my can be improved. Made larger, much more powerful. But will I need land lots.”
Leon squinted a moment as he parsed the tree sprite’s strange speech before it clicked with him. Tikos was asking for more land to try and improve its comm lotuses.
“I’ll get some people on it,” Leon said. “Depending on how much land you need, it shouldn’t be a problem. What kind of improvements do you think you can make?”
“Influencing magic with same place being,” Tikos explained. “Much larger lotus be would needed…”
Leon cocked an eyebrow as a smile spread across his face. Communication was one thing, but using the comm lotuses to remotely control enchantments was another thing entirely, and it was a possibility that resonated well with his inner enchanter. Such an advance would be invaluable…
“Right,” Leon said as he exhaled a lungful of air through his nose in a desperate attempt to remain in control of himself, otherwise he’d have started bouncing around the courtyard in excitement. “We can do that. We can definitely do that. We’re going to do that.”
Tikos bowed its head in thanks, and for the rest of the day, Leon lost himself in thoughts of the future, and what kinds of fantastic things he and his people might be able to create together.
---
Leon advanced his infantry pieces to hold a valuable part of the board that would give them advantages, but in his turn, Gaius charged his knights forward, preventing Leon from taking it. For nearly thirty rounds they had been dancing around this ‘hill’, both of them desperate to take it. The other parts of their frontline had largely calcified save for this hill, and whoever managed to seize it would hold the initiative in advancing anywhere else on the board.
Such tactical concerns weren’t a part of keeps’ normal rules, but in the decades that Leon had been pitting himself against Gaius—and his other retainers, whenever he could get them to play—they had started adding more and more rules, as well as playing with larger boards and more pieces, leading to games that they could be playing over entire months in their free time. They still played shorter games, of course, but longer games proved themselves enthralling in their own way.
This one, however, was designed as a fairly short game, with four times the number of normal pieces instead of the eight, ten, and sixteen times games they’d been playing recently, as well as eight different terrain features that could greatly influence what their pieces were capable of. Gaius held a defensive line across two hills and a river, while Leon bombarded his pieces with archers from two more hills and amassed behind a ditch. A thicket lay directly between their keeps, forcing their troops to go around or slow to half speed, which they both stationed troops near to prevent any pieces from getting through. This last hill was the only terrain feature that wasn’t yet controlled fully.
The skirmish for the hills began to swing in Leon’s favor when he moved his King piece into the fray, though that meant pulling the piece away from another point on the line.
“Risky move,” Gaius stated.
“The game won’t be won on defense,” Leon said as he started pushing Gaius’ pieces off the final hill.
“Others would disagree,” Gaius argued. “A good game can still be won defensively. Cost the other player enough pieces, and the game’s yours.”
“Fine, then. I won’t win the game on defense.”
“Heh. That’s certainly a more accurate statement.”
Leon managed to take the hill, as well as more than a dozen of Gaius’ pieces in the process, while only losing five of his own. Gaius, on the other hand, concentrated mostly on pulling his pieces back to form a stronger line outside of the range of Leon’s archers.
Gaius sighed as Leon pressed him, though, Leon not wasting a moment after taking the hill before he used the advantage it gave him. In the process, he liberally used his King piece—quite the risk given Gaius would win if he managed to take it.
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“Almost twenty years playing this game with you,” Gaius said, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice, “and I’m still taken aback by your aggressive strategy.”
Leon grinned. “Attack. Seize the initiative. Don’t wait for the enemy to come to you. Hit them where they’re weak.”
“Let them dictate where you fight,” Gaius added with a shallow, but cheeky grin. “Let them set the terms for your engagement. Fall into easily avoidable traps.”
As Leon pushed forward, several of Gaius’ pieces holding nearby terrain features charged Leon’s flanks.
“Don’t worry,” Gaius said. “Your people will be happy living under my rule.” In a single move, he took three of Leon’s pieces, giving his side the numerical advantage and threatening Leon’s King. “Sometimes, boldness will lead only to defeat.”
“But oftentimes,” Leon responded, “it’s the key to victory.” He ignored the attacks on the flanks of his assaulting force and pressed forward with his King and several pieces around it. He cut through Gaius’ frontline and managed to get his King behind it. Gaius started to seize the pieces Leon had left behind, but Leon sent one of his knight pieces, the fastest in the game, on a beeline straight for Gaius’ keep, while he kept his King and the other pieces behind to hold off any pursuing pieces.
“Your King might not survive such a maneuver,” Gaius said as he let Leon’s knight go. He couldn’t stop it, and though he was still smiling, Leon could see the tightening in the corner of his eyes. He knew that the only way he was going to win this game was if he took Leon’s King now that one of Leon’s knights was behind his defensive line. “His legacy will be one of defeat, having overextended himself and put his entire Kingdom in jeopardy.”
“If he loses, then people will call him stupid,” Leon responded. “If he wins, then he’s a genius.”
Gaius pressed in and Leon engaged in every delaying tactic he could, just barely keeping his King ‘alive’ while his knight seized Gaius’ keep, winning him the game.
The game had been set to be one of grinding positional warfare rather than sweeping maneuvers, but Leon’s charge after seizing the hill had won him the game, though at the cost of losing nearly the entire assaulting force, and nearly losing his King.
“This works in keeps,” Gaius observed, “because the game simply ends when it ends. In life, there’s always more after the curtain falls. Time doesn’t stop once you’ve achieved your goals. Too many victories like these will destroy you in the long run.” As he spoke, he indicated the sides of the board where they had been storing their taken pieces. Gaius, despite being on the back foot for most of the game, had taken more of Leon’s pieces than Leon had taken of his thanks to the bloody final charge.
Leon shrugged. “Keeps and real life are different, and I have no problem using different tactics for each. The strategy remains the same, though.”
“Just be careful that you don’t end up with a legacy of ‘stupidity’,” Gaius replied.
“That would require me to lose, and I don’t intend to leave a legacy of loss.”
“No one ever does.”
“Few have the power and drive to give them victory.”
“No one lives forever, no one’s invincible. One bad day and you’re no longer a genius.”
Leon grinned and stared at Gaius. “Are you trying to tell me something, Gaius? Have you some disagreement with my ruling strategy?”
“Of course not,” Gaius claimed. His expression relaxed and he leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, I’m just debating for the sake of it. I’ve… just had some things on my mind for a while.”
“What things?”
Gaius frowned and took a moment to answer. “Legacy. Family. Time. What will be left of me when I’m gone? Who will remember me? How will it happen? When? What will I have accomplished between now and then?”
“Have you any answers to these questions, since they’ve been on your mind?”
Gaius’ frown deepened. “Not really. Or no answers that I’m ready for, at any rate.”
“But you do have answers?”
Gaius sighed deeply. “The question of family is easy enough. Just find a good wife and have a whole litter of kids. Surely at least one would remember their father fondly, no? And have kids of their own who will pass the Tullius name down through the ages? Who may remember me?”
“Children…” Leon murmured.
Continuing, Gaius said, “I think about achieving Apotheosis and it honestly terrifies me. Such an abyss of time, long enough to get complacent, long enough to forget so much of what I’ve done, long enough to do incredible things. But no one lives forever.”
Leon nodded in understanding. “My Honored Ancestor once told me that an immortal’s greatest enemies aren’t his actual enemies, but rather apathy, depression, and boredom. She told me that even post-Apotheosis mages rarely live longer than a few thousand years, despite their immunity to the ravages of time.”
“What a terrifying thought. Live for so long that you become bored with life. To have seen everything, been everywhere, experienced all that life has to offer.”
“I don’t think one can see everything, nor do everything,” Leon mused. “There’s always more to discover, to see, to experience. The possibilities are endless. If one grows bored with life, then they’ve simply suffered a lapse in creativity, they haven’t run out of things to experience.”
“Maybe it’s more than that, then? If the Thunderbird herself says that apathy, boredom, and depression are the real dangers, then isn’t there something to what she says?”
Leon shrugged. “Hard to say. We’re hardly immortals ourselves, are we?”
“But we’re still staring down long lives. Even if we stop gaining power right now, I’ll live for many hundreds of years, and you for well over a thousand. We’ve barely lived five to ten percent of our lifetimes.”
“That’s a lot of time to do a lot that others will remember. More than enough time for performers to sing songs and tell stories about us.”
Gaius chuckled softly. “They’ll do that about you, not about me. The returning King will be a great hit for thousands of years, but his humble secretary? They won’t even know my name. Only crusty old historians who peruse my correspondence will know who I am. Or ‘was’, I suppose.”
“You say that like there’s no way for you to change it. But you have your whole life ahead of you. Do you want to be my secretary forever? I can always give you other duties and positions. Hells, if you want, you could even leave my service to adventure on your own. I wouldn’t like it, but I would respect your decision…”
“Would you…?” Gaius asked with a shallow grin.
Leon nodded in confirmation.
Gaius sighed deeply, then turned his attention to the board still in front of them, their pieces still as they were when Leon’s knight took Gaius’ keep. “Another game?”
Leon nodded again, and he and Gaius quietly reset the board with all their pieces arrayed in front of their keeps. They flipped a coin to start, and Gaius won the first turn. As was only good strategy, he sent knights on a beeline for the nearest terrain feature: a hill close to his keep’s entrance. Had he stationed faster pieces there in the previous game, he could’ve halted the knight in Leon’s final charge, but he’d concentrated most of his forces on more forward positions by that point in the game.
“I’ve made other decisions,” Gaius said as Leon took his first turn, using a similar strategy of taking closer positions, then using those as springboards for positions further afield.
“On what front?”
“Family. Even if I die a secretary, at least my kids will remember me, won’t they? And they’ll tell their kids about me, and they’ll their kids…”
“I’ve heard it said that children are one of the best ways for people to ‘live on’ after they’ve died. I hope I’ll see for myself in due time, but I wish you greater luck than I think I’ll have.”
“Thanks,” Gaius said as he and Leon’s foremost pieces finally made contact, to Gaius’ benefit; one of Leon’s pieces was removed from the board. Leon hadn’t even been able to do much, Gaius’ piece taking it quite easily.
“Oh, yeah, sure, no problem, I love just giving you my pieces…”
Gaius grinned. “What are your thoughts about Alix?” he asked.
Leon stumbled a bit even though he was seated. He accidentally knocked over a few of his pieces, though he hardly noticed as he stared at Gaius in complete bewilderment.
“You thinking about my squire?” he asked.
“Would that be a bad thing?” Gaius hesitantly shot back.
“No! No, no, it wouldn’t be. I’m just surprised, is all. Wouldn’t have guessed.”
“She’s pretty, she’s driven, she’s fun,” Gaius listed. “I like her. I’m still figuring out how much, but I want to explore that. If she’s open to that, then…” His grin turned more natural, more open, as his eyes glazed over, like he was staring at something far away.
‘Or maybe someone far away…?’ Leon wondered, noting that Gaius’ eyes were turned roughly in Alix’s direction. Alix herself was inspecting a company of Tempest Knights as they trained in a nearby mustering field, and cutting quite the impressive figure doing so, if Leon did say so.
“Only one way to find out,” Leon said. “Ask her, see what she says. See if she’s open to a courtship.”
“Yeah…” Gaius absent-mindedly said. “Yeah…”
For the next few turns, Gaius’ mind seemed to be elsewhere, and he played without much direction. Leon easily took a few of his pieces and even made moves to seize the central hill. However, once Gaius’ mind returned to him, he took Leon by surprise, charging his entire force forward in a display of maximum aggression that Leon hadn’t been expecting. He crushed Leon’s advance force, then moved on his keep. Leon barely managed to halt his charge, but then Gaius switched targets and focused down his King.
In the end, Leon lost the game, and in a quarter fewer turns than he’d managed to beat Gaius. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed he lost or impressed that Gaius won with such an aggressive strategy.
Gaius didn’t stick around after his win, though, leaving almost as soon as the game was put away. Given the determined look in his eye and the direction his secretary began walking in, Leon didn’t think he needed to guess where Gaius was going…