Chapter
Fiscal Policy and Beer
“The fiscal policy of the Empire is loose at best,” Mikel said while drawing from a set of memories several years past when he’d been interested in learning how the money system in the Empire functioned.
“The Emperor is the chief architect of how much money comes and goes within the system and dictates to the Imperial Mint exactly how much money to take out or add to the system. We’ve been at war with the Indistar Kingdom for the better part of a decade and the Emperor has been minting coins at a pace which, if left unchecked, will destroy our country long before the Kingdom does. At least some of the chief economists predict that - others argue since we have a floating currency based on the gross exports of The Empire we can print as much money as we want without negative consequences.”
Telgil had proven well versed in many things and the conversation of the past hour (four hours in the world they’d left behind - Mikel was monitoring the time spent in the Market of Dreams closely) had wended from topic to topic as Telgil loosely appraised Mikel’s abilities and knowledge.
“What is it called when more money is being minted than is being taken out of the system?” He asked.
“Inflation,” Mikel answered, “Money in The Empire is in theory a free market system. The more there is of it, the less value it has. Deflation is the opposite, when more money is taken out, it’s worth more and you have more buying power. Although, as I mentioned before since The Emperor acts as the originator and the ultimate judge in saying how much money is actually in the system, that only goes so far. From where I’m sitting it’s more like smoke and mirrors than an actual market.”
“Excellent,” Telgil looked at Helsket who’d long ago checked out of the conversation and was admiring a group of women who’d come into the tavern minutes before, “You should think about leaving him with Cal instead of helping him commit suicide by demon in Helgate. He has a good grasp of the basics. He might actually make something of himself without getting sliced to ribbons.”
Helsket grunted and shrugged, eyes never leaving the blonde leader of the group of women, who was tall, lithe, and quite possibly one of the most beautiful women Mikel had ever seen. He’d only managed to pull his attention away with the greatest effort. It was as if there were a spell around her - a spell which Helsket had fallen under. It felt similar to what Telgil had called The Reverie, but all at once different. More real. Mikel had been aware of the effects as soon as he felt the vibration of pure pleasure emanate from the woman and had actively worked to shunt it and the feelings that pleasure evoked, away.
Helsket hadn’t been so attentive.
“Better to live life to the fullest, while you can. As far as we can tell, you only live once. There’s time a plenty to read when you’re dead,” the old warrior grumbled.
Telgil rolled his eyes before turning back to Mikel.
“Explain the base coin system to me and we’ll move on after I see you have a grasp of ground-level commerce.”
“There are five denominations of coins available to the general public - Tin Rustons, Bronze Cherils, Silver Solaires, Gold Gunts, and Platinum Pinions. They go up in value by a basis of one hundred. One hundred Tin Rustons are worth one Bronze Cheril - likewise, one hundred Cherils are worth one Silver Solair. One thousand Cherils are worth one Gold Gunt and ten thousand Cherils are worth one Pinion. There are said to be larger denominations used to transfer large capital between entities, but the public never sees those. The coins are still called by their original metal attributes, but there hasn’t been an actual Gold Gunt in over a hundred years. There isn’t enough gold in the coffers to mint as many Gunts as there are in existence right now.”
“Good. Now, onto magic. We haven’t spoken much about magic yet and I need to see where your strengths may lie. It’s apparent you don’t seem to have the talent for magic, and yet… Something about you says otherwise.”
“He’s the spitting image of his dad - that’s why,” Helsket said, eyes still locked on the woman. The group had either not noticed Helsket or had chosen to ignore him - neither scenario seemed to dissuade the old warrior made young again.
“Interesting,” Telgil said, “But not unheard of. Are you aware of the two types of magic available to us?”
“Martial and Immaterial,” Mikel said, remembering the first book about magic he’d ever read - a primer made for children. The Raithson Library was extensive but tended towards Martial Skills and Abilities instead of straight Essentia manipulation. “Martial is what Helsket and my father use - nothing fancy like casting spells or flinging fireballs, but still useful - some would say more useful. Although there were some strange things about my dad’s fighting style. Some people thought he was based in Immaterial Skills, but he was renowned for Martial Skills. The key difference between the two lies in where they draw their fuel from. Immaterial burns Essentia to cast spells and you only get a certain amount of Essentia each day; Martial Skills draw from your stamina reserves to enact powerful attacks or to accomplish great physical feats otherwise unattainable. Some Martial Skill users can use Essentia to create crude weapons or invigorate their bodies, but whatever Skills they have pale in comparison to an Immaterial Skills user. There is a hypothetical third branch, called Blend, which hasn’t ever been disproven, and relies both on Stamina and Essentia. There are no known practitioners of Blend, and yet the evidence is there to support its existence in some capacity, if just theoretical.”
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“Yup,” Telgil said, “It’s final. You’re not going to Helgate. Calcifer is going to eat you up. I heard he’s already got an apprentice, but he’ll make time for you. Can you believe this, Helsket?”
The two men looked over to where their friend had been sitting moments before and startled upon realizing he was halfway across the room, headed towards the table of beautiful women as if on a mission.
Mikel was about to jump up and stop him when a large hand landed on his shoulder, “Oh no, I wouldn't do that if I were you, my boy. You don’t want to be in the middle of what’s about to go down. Helsket said he was feeling like his old self again - that body makes him feel more than young. He is young and as such has the hunger pangs only a young man experiences.”
All Mikel could do was watch as Helsket waded over to the table of women and grabbed the impossibly beautiful blonde one by the shoulder, lifting her to her feet.
She turned on him like a supine cat, claws out and teeth ready to tear flesh from bones.
“I thought that was you, Celine,” Helsket said, his face twisted in a mask of horror, memory… and something else that Mikel couldn’t place.
For her part, the woman, Celine, paused her attack for just a moment as familiarly registered on her face and the fierce visage melted away to softness.
“Helsket - what -”
She was cut off as one of the other women at the table leaped to her feet and shouted something Mikel couldn’t make out, and then a bolt of ragged red lightning blasted from her finger to the center of Helsket’s chest, throwing him clean through the window of the tavern and into the street.
The woman who’d attacked Helsket turned on Mikel, while the remaining four women, plus Celine, did the same.
“Oh gods,” Mikel said as the group of five women, all clad in ivory white dresses with golden belts and cinches accentuating their powerful yet feminine figures, swayed towards them, all hands raised except for Celine’s whose remained by her side while a deep inner conflict raged across her face.
“Telgil - what do we -”
For the second time that day Mikel was hoisted bodily and thrown through the air, this time following the path Helsket had taken. He landed just outside the tavern in a puff of colorful dust, before bright blue and green light erupted from within the shattered windows.
Mikel was half up and groggy when Helsket appeared beside him, twin bearded axes drawn and held in front of him in a position Mikel recognized as the ready stance for a Southern Continent style of axe combat which favored overwhelmingly powerful attacks while sacrificing defensive opportunities.
“You ready, boy?” Helsket asked, his voice hard and thick, “I warned you trouble would find us, but I wonder if we can handle this particular issue and get out with our hides intact.”
“What - who were those women? How do you even know them? Why are they trying to kill us?”
Mikel never got an answer as Telgil came sprinting from the tavern with the women in hot pursuit.
“Get ready!” He yelled as he dove out of the way as the woman who’d shot Helsket clear of the tavern fired another devastating blast towards Telgil’s back. The blast would have hit him, but as luck would have it his sudden dive took him well clear of the attack… And left it careening towards Helsket and Mikel instead.
Helsket barely had time to shove Mikel out of the way as the blast of ragged lightning caught him square in the chest once again and flung him across the market street - where a loose crowd had formed around the combatants while people called out names, bets, and cheers.
As Mikel picked himself up he was amazed to see that his group and the women had become the centerpiece of an impromptu gladiatorial arena. He had a flashback to hours before when Telgil and Helsket had duked it out in Farraway. That had been serious, but this felt entirely different.
This confrontation felt deadly.
He struggled up and drew his sword, the shining steel blade now insignificant compared to the threat at hand.
One of the women, the one with dark hair and dark eyes turned to him with murderous intent clear in her eyes - her smile spoke of what she had in mind for Mikel better than words could ever convey.
With a whip of her hands, she conjured… Something in front of her.
Out of fear of being struck by a bolt of ragged fire like Helsket, Mikel dove to the side, only to realize too late that he’d been tricked. The woman laughed, signaling she had no intention of flinging a spell at him - she’d brought something into the world to do her dirty work for her.
A swirling mass of dust and pebbles in the loose shape of a man coalesced and turned to regard Mikel with two dark spots situated at the top of its “body” which served for eyes.
“Kill,” the woman hissed and the elemental responded.
Mikel had studied long and hard before he’d made up his mind about what to do about his father. Months had gone by while he devoured book after book in his family’s extensive library. Many of those were instructions or primers with information about or practical knowledge of how to destroy the various monsters populating The Continent.
Of the myriad of elementals within Mikel’s mind’s database, he could only peg this as a single, unambiguous entity.
“A dust elemental,” He muttered as he ran to join Helsket and Telgil, where the two men were starting to mount an attack of their own.