Chapter Fifty-Eight: ‘O, warriors of the fore...!’
It had been a very fast week for Hector. Half of it, he’d spent asleep, and the rest, he’d spent training. He wasn’t sure if Lynn’s mother didn’t like him very much or if that’s just how she was with everyone. He thought Garovel might know, but whenever he asked about it, the reaper just smiled and shrugged.
His training with Mrs. Edith was more of a one-way thing. He couldn’t really spar with her like he had with Lynn, so the woman mostly focused on demonstrating how to wield a sword properly, as well as helping him figure out what kind of blade suited him best.
He’d already learned from his previous sparring sessions with Lynn that the metal he created wasn’t as strong as that of a professionally forged sword, but a lot of it also had to do with learning to hone the blade’s weight and balance. Granted, it wasn’t the biggest concern for him, seeing as he could freely manipulate the size of the blade whenever he wanted, but even so, Garovel encouraged him to come up with a “default” form for his sword. The idea was to memorize the shape so that he didn’t even have to concentrate in order to make it.
And indeed, it proved quite effective. He learned to do it well enough to create the full sword in under three seconds. It was only a one-handed blade in its normal state, unlike Lynn’s two-hander. He wanted to ensure that his left hand remained free, as he would undoubtedly need it in order to continue creating more iron on the fly. Plus, he wanted his left arm to be where he mounted his shield--something he considered even more important than the sword.
Most of his training, however, was spent alone. He kept trying to add his soul to the metal and thereby strengthen it, which reminded him of his battle with Andres, along with a question that he hadn’t been able to ask before.
‘Garovel, how was Andres able to manipulate his crystals the way he did?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The way he could just, like... launch them at us. He didn’t have to throw them or anything.’
‘Oh, right. I doubt you’re able to do that yet. I mean, you can try, but it’s a pretty advanced technique.’
‘How does it work, though?’
‘It’s not an easy explanation. But, um. Let’s see. You’ve probably noticed by now that once you make your iron, you’re not able to manipulate it in any way. Apart from destroying it, that is. Correct?’
‘Ah--yeah?’
‘That’s just how materialization works in general. Once it’s created, it’s a finished product. You’re done with it. It becomes subject to gravity and any other environmental forces, just like normal metal would.’
‘Right, so...?’
‘You can’t make your element magically float or fly around with your mind,’ said Garovel. ‘And to my knowledge, that will never change, no matter how much you develop your ability. But that’s not what Andres was doing. He was manipulating his sulfur BEFORE creating it.’
Hector tilted his brow. ‘Uh...?’
‘That’s the trick of it. You change the “state” in which your element is created. What Andres was doing wasn’t technically “launching” the crystals. Rather, the crystals were ALREADY moving when he created them, because he manipulated their “position state,” so to speak, adding an aspect of velocity to them. Which, as I mentioned, is not an easy thing to do.’
‘Hmm...’
‘You’ll also be able to change the physical state that your iron appears in. As it is now, you’re only making iron as it forms naturally in the world, but you’ll eventually be able to create it in liquid or gas form. Especially strong materialization users can even eliminate impurities in their elements. Though, as far as iron is concerned, the impurities are actually what give it its strength, so that might not be terrifically useful for you personally. A lot of elements decay too quickly in non-natural states to serve much purpose outside of a laboratory.’
‘Er, okay...’
‘I should also clarify that we’re not completely certain yet that your element really IS iron.’
‘Wait, really? I thought that was settled a long time ago.’
‘Nope. Even now, we’re still operating under that initial assumption we made.’
‘What else would it be?’
‘Beats me. My knowledge of metals is general, at best. I do believe it is iron, but I’d like to confirm that with an expert when we get the opportunity.’
‘Eesh... and when do you think that’ll be?’
‘Next week, I’d wager.’
‘What? Why would you--?’
‘That was a joke. I don’t have any fucking clue. The way things have been going, we’ll be dead before we get the chance to find out.’
Hector scratched his forehead. ‘You... you do know that jokes are supposed to “lighten” the mood, right?’
‘Let me try again. Why’d the chicken cross the road? It didn’t. It got hit by a car and died.’
‘Ugh...’
‘I’ve got loads more jokes,’ the reaper said.
‘Please, no--’
‘Why aren’t dinosaurs any good at math? Because they’re all dead.’
Hector shook his head. ‘Y’know... of the two of us, I thought you were supposed to be the cheerful one...’
‘Oh, you want cheerful? I can do cheerful. A rabbit goes into a jewelry store, looking to appraise a gold watch. He asks the vendor, “How many carrots?”’
He couldn’t help smirking. ‘That... that’s terrible...’
‘Then why are you smiling?’
‘I’m not smiling...’
‘You definitely are. What about you? Know any jokes?’
‘Ah...’
‘Oh, c’mon.’
‘Uh... okay... a coal miner walks into a bar, and the bartender says... “We don’t serve your kind here.” The coal miner says... “You mean you don’t serve ‘minors’? Never heard that one before.” And the bartender says... “No, I mean we don’t serve black people.”’
‘Whoa, Hector, what the hell?! I thought we were sticking to cute jokes with bunnies and crap!’
‘Oh, ah, sorry...’
The reaper just laughed.
Throughout the week, Hector found considerable enjoyment from eating together with everyone. Of course, he couldn’t hold a conversation with any of them, which was embarrassing, but it was fun just listening. It felt a bit homely, which was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever properly felt before. Lynn’s family got along particularly well, he thought. Given the circumstances, they seemed strangely normal, but he supposed he wasn’t the best judge of that anymore.
Gina had been trying to acquire a new place with a similar level of concealment, but she’d not been having an easy time of it. She was hoping to move everyone by the month’s end.
“We’ve actually met before, Your Majesty,” said Gina over breakfast one morning.
“Have we?” said the King, squinting at her.
“It was very brief,” she said. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. I was dressed as a maid at the time, and Desmond and Karkash were hassling you.”
He blinked at her. “Ah! Yes! Come to think of it, how in the world did you sneak into the castle? It was locked down at the time.”
“Yeah, that took some doing,” said Gina. “The castle grounds were undergoing repairs at the time, so I disguised myself as a construction worker in order to gain access. Bit tricky, that. I don’t really have the physique for it, so I was a little worried, but it worked out. The repair crew was only allowed into the castle itself for use of the lavatories, which was where the second disguise as a maid came in. Snuck it in with me and changed in the bathroom. Went through the building, planting bugs, then changed back and left, fast as I could.”
The King gave her a smile. “I see. So all this time, you have been feeding information to Lynnette and Hector.”
“Mostly Hector,” said Lynn. “I only returned to Atreya a couple weeks ago.”
“By the way, Your Majesty,” said Gina, “what can you tell us about Prince David? I’m curious as to why he’s helping us. Or seeming to help us, at least.”
“That man is an odd one,” said William. “I do believe he is trustworthy, but perhaps I am being naïve. I am afraid I have never been very good at reading people.”
Mrs. Edith chimed in now, as well. “It’s no secret that Prince David has always been different from his brothers. The media loved reporting on his antics when he was younger. For a while, it seemed like there was a new story on him every month.”
“I remember,” said the King. “I never associated with him very much. I thought he was nothing but a troublemaker back then. I wish now that I had not been so quick to judge him.”
“What’s his relationship with the Queen like?” Gina asked.
“I asked her about that very subject when we spoke the other day,” he said. “I always thought they were quite distant from one another. David was often out of the country, and I never saw them together very much. However, they were apparently much closer as children. And when I told her that I believed David was secretly our ally in all of this, she seemed very happy. She even laughed.”
Mrs. Edith’s brow rose. “I can’t imagine that woman laughing.”
“You’re one to talk,” said Lynn.
The King looked at Mrs. Edith. “Have you met Helen before?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I only meant according to her reputation. She’s always struck me as a very serious woman.”
“Mom loves the Queen,” added Melanie. “She’s a super royalist.”
Mrs. Edith glared at the girl, which only made her giggle.
“Is that so?” said William, smiling.
“Oh yeah,” agreed Mr. Edith. “You should’ve seen her after she found out that Lynnette had been accepted into the Queen’s Guard.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Jacob, please--”
“She was so happy that it was actually kind of scary. Abnormal-like, y’know? Just freaky.”
Mrs. Edith could only sigh.
“That is very sweet,” said William. “I am sure Helen would be pleased.”
Lynn and the King had both begun to look a little healthier. They were oddly similar--one who’d lost an eye, and one who’d lost an arm. Both had been through the wringer, and both ended up recounting their tales to everyone. It was difficult for Hector then. Their stories reminded him of all the things he’d lost as well, reminded him that his own pain hadn’t really gone away, only been buried.
Perhaps everyone could sense that he didn’t want to talk about himself, because they never asked. Maybe they already knew enough from the news. Or maybe they were talking about him behind his back. Strange, to realize he would’ve preferred that. Garovel probably knew for certain, but Hector avoided asking about it. He didn’t really want to know.
Hector’s mother, however, looked no better than when she’d arrived. She still had the same gaunt, hollow-eyed stare as before.
Occasionally, Gina would try to engage her. “So what do you do for a living, Mrs. Goffe?”
“I was a stage director,” she said.
“Stage director? You mean like for plays and musicals?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, that’s cool!”
“It was. Before... everything.”
Gina frowned. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“You know, I bet I could help you find new work after this is all over. I’m pretty good at finding things.”
“No, thank you.”
“Ah--are you sure?” said Gina. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
Hector decided to intervene. “Mom, you should accept her offer.”
“I said no.” She walked away.
Hector gave Gina an apologetic look and then pursued his mother to the other end of the garage.
She’d climbed into her car to lie down.
“Mom...”
She didn’t bother to sit up again. “What?”
“I’m... I’m worried about you.”
“You’re wasting your time on me.”
Hector had no idea what to say to that.
“You should have just left me to die,” she said.
“Mom... don’t say that...”
“Why not?”
“B-because... how could you think I would ever just...? Agh...”
“It has nothing to do with you. I just don’t care.”
“Mom...”
“The only person I’ve ever loved is gone,” she said. “What difference would it make if you’d let me die? I’m already dead, anyway.”
“Agh, Mom. Stop. You’re not--”
“Tell me. Do you even care that your father is dead? That you got him killed?”
Her words might as well have been knives. “How can you--? You don’t even know that I--how much I--?” He choked on his own breath, feeling his throat swelling up. He squinted, suddenly having to fight the gathering tears.
She sat up to look at him now. “Wow,” she said dully, “so you really do have emotions. I was starting to think you were some kind of monster.”
Hector couldn’t stop the tears at all now and just tried to hide his eyes with a hand.
‘Fuck, I hate this woman,’ said Garovel. ‘Hector, please stop talking to her.’
But Mrs. Goffe wasn’t done. “All this time, you’ve been off doing whatever you want, getting into more trouble, trying to be a hero. And you’re worried about your family now? It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? You don’t honestly expect me to forgive you, do you?”
He couldn’t even respond.
“If you’re going to do something, then you might as well do it all the way, Hector. Just leave me be. Worry about your fight with Abolish or whatever it’s called. If you get me killed, too, then at least you’ll know that it didn’t matter.”
Hector fled the garage, up the ramp and outside into the harsh sunlight.
Garovel said something to him, and the words even passed through his head clearly, but he simply wasn’t paying attention. His mind was cluttered with confusion and fury, wondering if she’d really meant those things, angry that she could even say them, furious that he couldn’t respond. And just. Sadness. It hurt, a pain right in his chest. He’d always thought heartache was just a figure of speech.
“Hector?” It was the King’s voice.
Hector hurriedly wiped his eyes. “Y-yes?” He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and face the man.
“I apologize,” said William. “I happened to overhear what your mother said.”
He winced. “O-oh...”
“I did not mean to eavesdrop.”
“Did... did everyone hear?”
“Only Gina and myself, I believe. She seemed rather concerned as well. Are you alright?”
“I’m--I, uh... I’m, ah--”
‘It’s okay to say no,’ said Garovel. ‘Hector, you don’t have to pretend like everything is fine.’
Hector just looked at the ground, opting to say nothing.
The King stepped closer. “Perhaps it is not my place to say this, but would you like my opinion?”
“Um... okay?”
“A child does not require a parent’s love or approval in order to live happily or honorably.”
Hector’s brow receded, and he looked up at the King. “Your Majesty, what are you saying?”
“Were you thinking I would try to convince you how valuable family is? How important it is to reconcile with your mother? Because words such as those would not suit me, I fear. I have considerable experience with family discord.”
Hector only frowned.
“Of course, if it is within reason to reconcile, then certainly do so. But please, do not believe that there is something wrong with you merely because of what she said. That would be a mistake. One that I have made, myself.”
“But... it’s not... I mean, what do I do?”
“Whatever you can. But you cannot force someone to love you. Nor do you need to.”
“But I’m... I’m all she has. Whether she acknowledges it or not... I can’t just...”
“I am not saying you should abandon your mother,” said the King. “But her well-being is not entirely your responsibility, either. She must also want to be well.”
“With respect, um... sir... y-you don’t know very much about us.”
“That is true. I apologize if what I said seemed callous.”
“It’s, ah--it’s fine.”
A heavy silence fell, and Hector realized that the sun was probably beginning to take a toll on the King, so he raised an iron half-dome to shield them both. The man seemed to appreciate it.
“There is something I still do not understand,” said William. “Well, I suppose there are many things, truthfully. But I am curious as to why you are helping us. Is it only because this reaper companion of yours compels you to?”
Hector glanced at Garovel. “No, it’s not just that. I, um... ah... I... want to... agh...”
“Yes?”
He flushed with embarrassment. “I just... we just want to help people.”
The King cocked a blond eyebrow at him. “Begging your pardon, but I find it difficult to believe that your motive could be so simple.”
“Yeah, well...”
“I understand that this Roman Fullister gentleman is helping us because he is an Atreyan loyalist and has business interests here. But unless I am mistaken, you were merely a student in high school a few months ago.”
Hector took a breath and scratched his forehead. “W-well... things kinda, y’know... spiraled out of control.”
“Even so, you have put yourself through quite a lot, and you are telling me that was only because you wanted to--”
Hector’s phone interrupted. He fished it out of his pocket and eyed the caller ID. He hurried back down the ramp while it continued ringing.
The King followed.
“Gina!” shouted Hector, and she turned away from her conversation with Lynn’s family.
Everyone gathered around as the phone stopped ringing. Even Mrs. Goffe wandered a bit closer.
The voice mail triggered, and then came David’s confirmation. <“Jonathan. Please pick up if you are there.”>
Hector did no such thing.
<“...I guess you are unavailable. Pity. I was hoping you could assist my friends with a very valuable and time-sensitive opportunity. I will send you a text with the details, instead. I hope you receive it soon.”>
Everyone waited.
“Time-sensitive?” said Melanie. She did not look very much like her older sister. She seemed to take more after their father than Lynn did.
Gina pulled out her own phone. “I guess that means I should get ready to call Master Roman.”
When the text arrived, Hector let Gina be the one to read it aloud.
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
The chamber didn’t look like it belonged to a captain of the Vanguard in the slightest. An entertainment system filled one wall entirely, and Helen could see a shelf full of video games and movies, which seemed to have seen frequent use if their current state of disarray was any indication.
It had taken days to find the Vanguard in Intar. The country was massive, and apparently the group stationed here quite enjoyed its secrecy. Voreese had suggested they just start making a mess of things and wait for the Vanguard to show up, but she was outvoted. Despite how poorly their previous encounter with the Vanguard had gone, Helen still felt that they needed to make a good first impression to have any chance of acquiring assistance.
Indeed, these Intarian servants were a far cry from the ones in Callum. They didn’t put on a welcoming façade here. They openly distrusted Helen and Roman as soon as initial contact was made. And even though it made things more difficult, Helen was more appreciative for it, and she felt slightly more inclined to trust these people.
That being said, she had still been unable to make any progress with negotiations.
The Vanguard’s regional captain was a very young boy by the name of Bartholomew Erickson. He didn’t look any older than ten years, so she was rather hesitant to speak to him at first, but the boy’s reaper, Kohzek, was the one who did most of the talking, anyway. It soon became apparent, however, that Bartholomew was almost as old as Helen.
Kohzek was a difficult negotiator. This was going to be their second meeting with him, and Helen still wasn’t sure if the reaper was trying to bargain for a better deal or if he genuinely did not yet believe that Atreya’s need was as great as she and Roman claimed it to be.
As Helen took her seat next to Roman, she eyed the two servants across from her--one more than she had been expecting. Bartholomew fidgeted in a chair that was too big for him, but the podgy man next to him was not someone Helen recognized. He had not attended their previous meeting.
As usual, Voreese was the first to ask the obvious question. ‘Who’s he?’
Kohzek motioned with a ghostly hand. ‘This is Harper Norez. And his reaper, Darsihm.’
A sudden silence took the room, making Helen glance around. Both Mehlsanz and Voreese were staring at the newly introduced pair.
‘Are you fucking serious?’ said Voreese. ‘This fucking guy is Harper?’
The fucking guy gave a laugh. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
Mehlsanz hovered behind Helen. ‘What is someone like you doing here?’
Helen had to interrupt before she got too far behind. “I apologize for my ignorance, but who is this man?”
‘Harper Norez,’ explained Voreese, ‘is a Lieutenant General. He’s considered one of the strongest thirty-four people in all of the Vanguard.’
“Thirty-eight, now,” Harper corrected. “We’ve expanded a little. All these young guns rising in the ranks, gotta make room for ‘em somewhere.”
Helen took another look at this Harper person.
He was of a darker complexion than most Intarians she’d seen, which perhaps implied that he was also a foreigner. With a round face and a broad nose, messy black hair and a mud brown jacket, he looked rather more like an itinerant worker than some kind of great warrior.
“Darsihm and I are actually here because of you,” he said, pointing at Mehlsanz. “You rustled some jimmies when you deserted your division.”
Roman tensed in his seat. “You’ve come to capture Mehlsanz?”
“Oh, no, no,” said Harper. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m here to ensure that doesn’t happen. So relax.”
‘That’s awfully considerate of you,’ said Voreese with more than a hint of doubt in her voice.
‘Yeah, we’re nice like that.’ Darsihm leaned back in the air, as if lying on an invisible bed, and crossed his ghostly arms. ‘But it’d also be problematic if one of Mehlsanz’s old comrades came to kill you. We’d rather the Vanguard not be collectively blamed for the assassination of the Atreyan Queen. But then, that is precisely why Mehlsanz here resurrected her, isn’t it? To hide behind her status?’
‘I didn’t think anyone would actually come to protect me,’ said Mehlsanz. ‘Especially not a Lt. General.’
“We weren’t planning to, either,” said Harper. “But then word got out that the Queen was traveling around, visiting different divisions all haphazard-like. If you stumbled onto the wrong people, they might’ve done something very stupid.”
“So you’re only here for damage control,” said Roman.
‘We’re only here because Mehlsanz and I share an old friend,’ said Darsihm. ‘Valess.’
Mehlsanz shifted. ‘Ah... that wonderful fool. It’s been ages. How is he?’
‘Finally took on a new servant. When he heard about the trouble you were in, he wanted to come for you himself, but he doesn’t have that kind of freedom or authority. So he begged me to have Harper come help you, instead.’
“Wait,” said Roman, “so you weren’t even ordered to come here?”
‘Harper is a Lt. General in title only,’ said Darsihm. ‘In truth, he’s more of a freelance officer.’
Helen tilted her head. “I do not understand. How does that work?”
“Basically,” said Harper, “I don’t have the authority to order anyone around, but in exchange, I don’t have to take orders from anyone below the rank of general, either. So Darsihm and I are usually able to go where we like and do as we please.”
“Sounds like my kind of deal,” said Roman. “How’d you swing that?”
Rather than answering, Harper just returned a confident smile.
‘Would you mind saving the chat for later?’ said Kohzek, whom Helen had nearly forgotten about. ‘I have other matters to attend to.’
‘Sorry, go ahead,’ said Darsihm. ‘Harper and I were just curious to meet these people. It’s taken a while to track them down.’
Bartholomew had already grown bored and gone to the far end of the room to play one of his games. Kohzek didn’t seem to care, either, which compounded Helen’s confusion. If the boy was truly near her own age, then she would have expected him to display a bit more maturity and interest in their conversation.
Roman’s phone chose that moment to go off, which earned a look from Kohzek. “I should take this,” said Roman, and he exited the room.
‘Now then,’ said Kohzek, addressing Helen, ‘the matter of your request. Since our last meeting, I have received confirmation that Abolish is indeed present in your country. I do not require proof that they are attempting to instigate conflict. That much can be assumed. However, I remain unconvinced that sending my troops to rout them is the wisest course of action.’
“Why would you think it unwise?” said Helen.
‘Because I feel you are asking more of me than you realize. Yes, with our help, you would likely retake your country without much difficulty. The problem lies in holding onto it once it is retaken. I cannot allow my people to remain with you indefinitely, so what is to stop Abolish from merely waiting until we leave and then attacking you again?’
“I have been thinking on that as well,” said the Queen. “I was hoping we could establish a more long-term partnership. My country can provide you with financial backing, if you need it, or perhaps some kind of natural resource would interest you more.”
‘I do not think so,’ said Kohzek. ‘The most valuable resource to me at the moment is manpower. Intar is a much larger country than Atreya and so requires many more people to protect it. Our enemies might well seize the opportunity to attack while our attention is divided.’
Helen frowned. “Be that as it may, I am sure we could find--”
Roman burst into the room again, phone in hand, drawing everyone’s attention. “Gina, tell them what you told me.”
<“Ah--we’ve received word that Abolish will be taking a group of Atreyan soldiers to attack Rendon tomorrow. If we’re going to prevent war, then we’re out of time. We need you back in Atreya tonight. Or at the very latest, tomorrow morning.”>
Helen shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Why have they accelerated their plans?”
<“They’re afraid the Vanguard will show up and ruin everything for them. Our source says they just want to get the war started and then book it.”>
She didn’t need to ask who the source was. She knew it was David, and she knew she shouldn’t doubt the validity of his information.
‘Well, that sure as hell changes things,’ said Voreese, and she eyed Kohzek again. ‘We’re out of options here. If you don’t help us right now, then it’s war. You understand that?’
Kohzek shook his head. ‘I am sorry, but if I must make an immediate decision, then I cannot assign anyone to help you.’
‘Fucking bullshit!’
Helen had to contain herself. “Then you doom my people to misery and death,” she said, calmer than she wanted to. “It was my understanding that the Vanguard considered protecting innocents from Abolish a moral imperative. If you cannot help--”
Darsihm intervened. ‘Now just hold on a minute there. How many enemy servants are we talking about here?’
‘Seven,’ said Mehlsanz.
‘I see,’ said Darsihm. ‘Do you know all of their names?’
Voreese had them covered. ‘Desmond Grantier, Andres Geth, Nola Pauls, Tessa Shelrick, Conall Learen, and then Hanjir and Karkash, whose last names remain unknown.’
‘Hmm.’ Darsihm exchanged looks with his servant. ‘There are no big name threats, at least. What do you think?’
Harper scratched the top of his head. “Eh, I don’t think I can fight seven at once. Assuming there’s nobody problematic involved, I could probably take three or four, but--”
‘Holy shit,’ said Voreese, ‘are you seriously offering? Because you wouldn’t need to fight by yourself. Roman’s pretty strong, and Queenie’s not too bad, and we’ve got two more combatants waiting for us back home.’
“Oh.” Harper smiled. “Well, okay then.”