***The Wild Hunt in the Past***
***Seria***
I've already been chasing the godling for days and there is no sign that he is getting tired. He must be an individual with astounding endurance. Unfortunately for him, he refused the Council's offer. Instead of becoming a loyal servant, he proclaimed his wish to become a free agent, something the Council will never allow.
So the hunt was on.
With the new godling officially branded as a heretic, Tjenemit was quick to send me after the rebel, leaving me not much choice in the matter. If I don’t do it, someone else will. There are many who prefer servitude to eternal imprisonment, or whatever the Council does to deal with immortals.
The Council’s dogs are many and they will hunt their prey until the end of existence. Maybe there is a chance to retreat to the deepest parts of the Infernal Planes, but there are things out there that even the gods are afraid to touch, hiding in the uncivilised regions of the multiverse. Going there, the newcomer wouldn't survive a day on his own.
I leave the pathway and stand in front of him. Having caught up, I can see now that he is weak and tired, dark rings under his eyes. He is a god, but even an immortal can run too far and stay awake for too long.
Surrounding us is a barren wasteland with four suns in the sky. A nameless world among countless billions. If I had to share its location with another god, I would have to point out a dimensional frequency and a set of coordinates, referring to the centre of all things.
“I guess you guys will follow me wherever I go? Is there even a place where you can't find me?” Still having some fight left in him, he raises his hands to battle me.
“There is nowhere you can run unless you are willing to enter a Void Zone or the Infernal Planes,” I explain patiently.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He shakes his head.
“No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He is new, after all. Nobody explained anything to him. “Let’s just say that there are places to which I wouldn’t follow you. I would just turn around… and report your final death to the Council.”
“Can I at least ask for the name of the one who caught me?” he asks.
I smile and make a small curtsy. “I am Seria, Goddess of Life and Death. I want to make you an offer. There is one way for you to escape.”
He squints his eyes, clearly not believing me. “How?”
“You have to die and forsake your divinity,” I explain the crux of the matter first, knowing from experience that it’s more likely to go smoothly this way.
“That's all? But I have no divinity! I refused to become a god! They offered me the job and I turned around and ran!” He huffs. “Why are they still chasing me!?”
“Then how are you walking the multiverse if you are no god? Only gods are able to do that.” I gesture at him, then at our surreal surroundings. “Though I have to admit that you are quite talented in using the pathways. Many young deities quickly find themselves in a dead end until they get used to trusting their instincts.”
“...” He doesn’t reply, waiting for me to make my point.
“The Council doesn't make you a god. They just want everyone to believe they do. It would be very bad for their reputation if there were gods who aren't elevated by them.” I wave my hand in an uplifting motion.
“...”
I raise an eyebrow. “So. Do you want me to help you? I could save your soul, but you have to decide fast and the price is nothing less than your newfound godhood. You will no longer be a god. You will lose your memories and start anew. Maybe you will get them back in the distant future, but they will never feel like your own again. In return for saving you, you have to help me when I ask for it. And you have to trust me and lower your guard.”
“...”
I tilt my head, feeling a slight ripple along the pathways. “You must decide now. I feel them coming. Having made this offer, I have to silence you before one of the others arrive.”
He hesitates, but then he starts laughing. “Hahaha. Fuck this! I never wanted to be a god anyway. Do whatever you have to do.”
“This will hurt for a short while, but you have to stay still.” I approach and place a hand on his chest, pushing against his aura until he lowers it.
He nods, assuring me that his defences are down, and I thrust my hand into his chest. His face distorts in pain, but he soon relaxes, dropping dead after a few moments. Waving a hand, I dissolve his body, turning it into dust. He didn't even twitch when I took his soul, he must be a valiant one, a good addition to my growing collection.
I study the two shimmering marbles which are now in my hand. One for his soul, and one for his divinity.
Just as I predicted, someone arrives and I turn to face him while forming a fist to hide the two marbles. My prey and I have been stationary for too long. It was just a question of time until the Council caught up. I don't understand how their tracking system works, but after serving them for eons I have figured out its limitations.
“Where is he?” Tjenemit asks, searching the vicinity.
“I managed to intercept him, but he wasn't as weak as you predicted. He resisted and stepped onto another pathway. I am afraid it was one which led directly to the Infernal Planes, so I didn’t follow.”
“What! Damn! Why didn't you stop him!” Tjenemit narrows his eyes.
“I tried.” I bow, folding my palms submissively in front of my knees.
“You call yourself a Goddess of Life and Death, but you can't catch a puny little half-god who just found out how big the multiverse truly is! I lost a lot of time thanks to you. Now I have to start the search for another test subject!” Tjenemit spits on the ground infuriated for some reason.
“I will try to do better next time. It seems like I am just not cut out as a hunter, but the Council keeps enlisting me because I am faster than others.” I keep my eyes focused on the ground.
What’s this talk about a test subject?
“First the fiasco with Ascathon and Myrm, and now this failure. I will keep an eye on you from now on. There is no way that you misunderstood what I wanted when I told you to extract the knowledge about Mana Crystals from Ascathon. It feels like insubordination! There is also the fact that gods tend to disappear around you much too often.”
He turns around and fades away, leaving me with a foreboding feeling. How much time do I have left if Tjenemit is already starting to catch on?
***The World***
***Angrod***
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. In order to counteract the terrorist attack on our school, my parents decided to go on a trip in order to inspect various independently managed counties up in the north. Officially, they are taking a vacation, but the truth of the matter is that they are trying to frighten our political enemies. By showing their faces on their soil, they are making a statement.
That left us kids free to enjoy our first holidays from school.
Naturally, having too much free time isn't always a good thing. Celes quickly started acting… strange. Yes, strange is the right word, to say the least. If I didn't know better, I would say that she is trying to train me… like some dog.
Not that I am against training humans. Certain humans just won’t become decent beings otherwise.
The problem is that I see myself more like a cat-person, free-spirited and all that.
“Say, Aahh.” Celes holds a piece of chocolate in front of my mouth.
I try to resist, but being free-spirited is one thing when you actually want what’s offered to you. A cat would also eat a treat that is freely given, so I open my mouth and eat the chocolate.
“What do you think?” She looks at me, eagerly awaiting my judgement.
“A little bit too bitter,” I reply, savouring the taste. “I am more of a sweet tooth. It has to melt in the mouth without giving the impression of butter or fat.”
“Hum…” Celes considers that with a tilted head, regarding her plate with samples. When she came up with the idea of recreating a version of chocolate in this world, she brought me a full range of sample pieces. “I may be able to adapt the recipe.”
“That would be nice.” I absent-mindedly stroke Ghost's head. We are on the floor in the study, which is very comfortable thanks to the thick carpet in the middle of the room. Celes is to my left, taking notes about my opinion of her alchemical experiment, while my pet is sleeping to my right, his large head planted on my thigh.
Celes furrows her forehead and studies Ghost as if he is her competition. “Your little pet is getting really big. I am not sure what to think of a dog-sized cat.”
“Oh, that's nothing. His mother was as big as a tiger,” I comment. “He should already be much larger, but I think that the Familiar-Bond I cast on him is affecting his development. It's now more in line with my own.”
Ghost lets out an appreciative 'purr' and announces his approval of being petted with a “Meow!”
Celes shudders. “I swear, it still creeps me out that you trained him to meow.”
Pursing my lips, I look down at Ghost. “But wouldn't it be boring if he were just a normal Razorclaw? His brethren are always so silent and menacing and a real cat just has to meow.”
“He isn't some house-cat. He is a deadly predator.” She sighs and reaches over to pet my familiar. “I am sorry, Ghost. He went and destroyed any chance you had to ever live with your kind in the wild.”
He looks like a real cat while he is not hulked out. That's all I care about. Maybe it's better if I just change the subject. “Anyway. Have you visited Tanja in the hospital? How is she doing?”
“She is going to make a full recovery, and you could have visited her too,” Celes replies in a judgemental tone.
Great, so changing the topic wasn't the best idea. “It's not like I could do anything to help her. There are experts who specialize in healing. What I do is pretty much only battlefield healing. Quick and dirty with a few scars. Tanja needs someone who can shape flesh and skin.”
“I meant giving her moral support, you moron.”
“Oh,” I honestly wasn't thinking about visiting her for the sake of socialising. It's not like I want to hit on Tanja.
“I can tell that your socially inept brain got the totally wrong idea about the reason for visiting a girl in hospital,” she mumbles and I get the feeling that I just fell in her esteem.
I deflate. “Sometimes it feels like you can read my thoughts.”
She shrugs. “Only those which you telegraph with your face for all the world to see.”
We are interrupted when the door opens and Katrine enters the room with a sour expression. I can immediately tell that something unpleasant must have happened.
“What's wrong?” I ask.
“The Meltheims are here. They requested an ‘audience’ with their king,” she informs us, closing the door behind her. “They are making a counter-play to your parents’ inspection of the northern counties. Arthur is trying to get rid of them in a polite manner, but they are likely going for a flaw in Tirnan law. I assume they will complain about the new inventions. I wonder if-”
Katrine is interrupted by Arthur who enters the room. “We have a problem. The Meltheims insist on seeing the highest ranking available ruler asap.”
“Hah!” I snort. “Then they have a problem, my parents aren't here. Nothing that can be done about it.”
Katrine shakes her head. “That's exactly the problem. They want to use a loophole in our peace treaty. We should have burned that stupid document as soon as it was written.”
Arthur raises his hand to admonish his wife. “Hush, dear. You know very well that it would have been impossible to get the nobility to agree without it.”
I narrow my eyes. “What exactly is the problem with that treaty?”
Celes huffs. “You should really pay some attention to the political side of our union. Apparently, if there is an economic conflict between the two countries, an affected noble can demand an audience with the ruler of the other side. It’s supposed to give nobles the opportunity to complain directly to the ruler of the other side. If the audience is not given within three days, the party in question can take every action they deem necessary to solve the problem.”
“My parents can't be back within three days. It takes at least a week to get to the northern regions,” I reply, stating a fact. “Too bad that Nicosar also went on one of his underground missions.” I turn to address Arthur. “Can't you just tell that Meltheim guy to fuck off?”
Arthur shakes his head. “They have issues with the new inventions which were made by the house of Cygnus and they did everything by the book. Apart from the fact that I don’t want to, I can't give orders to Cygnus, because they belong to Tirna. I don't have any legal authority.”
Celes perks up. “They are relying on the fact that there is nobody available who can represent Tirna. It doesn't matter if the person in question would tell them ‘Go to Hell!’ in any case?”
Arthur nods.
Celes looks at me. “The solution simple. Go out there and tell them to go to hell.”
“I can do that. The only question is what happens if they think they can challenge me again?” I look down at myself. “I am not exactly intimidating.”
“Oh, that’s no problem.” Arthur looks at me. “All you have to do is smile.”
My eyes widen involuntarily. “What’s that supposed to mean!?”
Katrine smiles at me. “There is something manic in your expressions. As if you are just waiting for them to let their guard down around you.”
Celes nods. “Yes. It’s like Jack the Ripper putting on a human skin to fool his prey.”
“Enough with the pribble-prabble.” Arthur waves his hand. “This is a serious situation. Worst case, they will use the excuse to start a fight with the Cygnus. They can cause a whole lot of problems. Don’t forget that they still control a large share of the market for rare elements. Maybe they will stop selling their goods to everyone who uses the new technology.”
“Annoying. Well... I guess that I have to go and tell them to fuck off.” I get to my feet and start walking towards the door.
“What? You can't! You are just ten!” Arthur intercedes. “I thought you made a joke when you said that you would go out there!”
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I shrug. “I am the Prince of Tirna. They get to talk to the future king of the world. I am sure that’s nothing to complain about. Does the peace treaty mention a required minimum age for the representative?”
Arthur looks flabbergasted. “No? Why would anyone ever put an age requirement into a treaty? It assumes that a country’s representatives have what it takes.”
I smile at Arthur. “Future father-in-law. Your dearest son-in-law most certainly has what it takes.”
Looking down at me, Arthur shudders. “Please refrain from smiling like that.”
I stop. “We will twist the stupid peace treaty to our advantage just like they are doing.” I turn around and start walking again.
Celes jumps to her feet. “Wait! You have to stage this encounter properly, or it could go horribly wrong.”
I stop, considering it. Normally, I would just slaughter the disobedient bastards, but that’s probably not a socially acceptable option when I am not a god who can't be opposed. “What do you suggest?”
Celes looks at each of us in turn. “We need to give them a show of force. They have to know that Tirna and Stricc are in this together and that attacking one family brings down the other on them. Can we get our guards to dress up and look menacing? I think it would send a pretty strong signal if halfway during the negotiation our honour-guard makes an entrance and lines up left and right from the Meltheims.” Celes continues to explain her plan.
I listen, fascinated. Her spiel of intimidation is complicated, yet simple enough that it might work. We don’t have to actually threaten the Meltheims, we just have to show that we might do away with them right then and there.
When she is done, I nod. “Just tell Rose to set things up while I entertain the Meltheims.”
Katrine gasps when I turn and walk to the door. “Wait! You’ve never been in an audience!”
“Unless we find out where Nicosar ran off to, it might be our only chance.” Arthur grunts, massaging his chin.
I wave a hand, dismissing Katrine's concern. “I have seen enough of my father’s audiences. Besides, if nobody shows up, the outcome is the same as if I mess up. There is no pressure.”
Before they can stop me I walk out and towards the ballroom. It is set up as a reception hall for nobles while there are no festivities in the embassy. The stage at the back-wall is used as an elevated platform with four thrones on it, ensuring that a visitor has to look up to the rulers of the world.
I take the back-entrance, so that I enter from behind the stage.
Rounding the stage, I throw a look at the Meltheims as I climb the stairs to my father’s chair. In passing, I greet the four guards who are holding their positions to the left and to the right.
Turning around, I eye a middle-aged guy in extravagant clothes who was waiting with a woman and his two sons, just a few steps in front of the stage. His horns are long and straight, a trait of the royal bloodline. His colourful outfit shows patterns of white and multiple shades of red. It isn't to my liking, but I've often seen the nobility wearing similar stuff.
His eyes are the perfect golden snake eyes of high nobility. Just like mine and those of his sons. Only Senda looks a little more like his mother, the eyes less pronounced.
Odlef's nose and those narrow eyes make him look more like a poisonous snake than a dragon who is about to strike.
The woman also looks regal in her white dress, Sarda and Senda next to her.
Stepping backwards, I sit down on the throne, shimmying into the much too large thing. Man, must I look stupid doing this!
The Meltheim patriarch just watches my actions with a slightly opened mouth, clearly not understanding what is happening.
“Ahem! I declare the audience as opened! You may close your mouth before a fly decides to fly into it,” I declare in the most uppish demeanour I can manage.
He snaps his mouth shut, gulping down spit before he manages an answer. “Is that a joke?” Odlef Meltheim asks, dumbfounded.
“No. I don't joke in matters of state. Please state your business and don't waste any more of my time than necessary. I've books to read. Also, show some manners and introduce yourself.” I wave a hand, gesturing for him to get on with it.
“I wanted an audience with the ruler of Tirna! Not with a kid!” Odlef spits out, facing Arthur who just now entered the throne room.
“My parents are on a trip and not available, but I guess you already knew that and purposefully chose this exact moment to launch this nonsense. Unfortunately for you, I happened to stay behind. You have to deal with me, Prince Angrod of Tirna. Right now, you are talking to the highest available person possible. So you may speak now or announce that there is no need for an audience and we can all go our way,” I offer, feeling generous.
Arthur nods and ascends to his throne, sitting down. “I am afraid that you chose an inopportune moment, Odlef. Currently, there is only Angrod to answer your request.”
“This is violating the protocol!” Odlef complains, stabbing a finger at me.
Arthur just shrugs and spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “There is nothing I can do about it at the moment, aside from following the agreement of the peace treaty.”
“You may be following the words, but not its spirit!” Odlef turns to face me, acknowledging me for the first time. “I am Odlef of Meltheim! I am here to demand that the house of Cygnus stops their research to undermine our business. Their inventions are shifting the proper balance of power between the houses and our countries! This development has to end now!”
I pretend to consider it. “No.”
“What?” Odlef lifts his chin. “Are you able to explain your decision?”
“No, the Cygnus will not shut down their research, nor take it back. There won't be any restrictions or taxes to impede their progress. On the contrary, the research efforts will be expanded. This world has resource problems and because of that, Tirna and Stricc are constantly on the edge of war.
“Since the new inventions started to go into production, the tension between our countries' economies has lessened. Soon, it will be obvious to anyone that war is no longer necessary due to economic reasons.”
“I hope you know what you are doing.” Odlef narrows his eyes. “Are you aware that our family alone finances ten percent of our nation's yearly budget?”
I shrug. “That sounds more like you have to take it up with Arthur. I refuse to give someone who already has too much power even more power. You are controlling Stricc’s market for rare elements. I understand that because of the new inventions your profit goes down, but you will still control the market and have more than enough to live. You can either help us in our efforts to create permanent peace, or you claim yourself to be a supporter of war.”
I lean back and fold my hands on my lap. “The Cygnus family will continue their research. End of discussion.”
Odlef went through the full spectrum of colours while I was talking. From red, to blue, followed by a very unhealthy violet, making me wonder how a person like him ever managed to achieve such a high status.
He likely just inherited his position from his father.
I sigh. That's the problem with a system of bloodline inheritance. It works as long as the children are properly educated by their parents. One wrong step and corruption takes hold, likely growing worse with each following generation.
“I demand an honour duel!” Odlef gestures towards his sons. “You can choose.”
Sarda immediately pales and his mouth falls open, while Senda’s expression turns worried. They know that I am not easily bullied because we have classes together.
“You guys already tried that once. On what basis do you claim it now!” Arthur interrupts, getting up from his chair. He looks outraged that his own subject could try something like this - again.
But honestly, I already suspected it. Reacting badly is the next logical step for an irresponsible adult when he is dressed down by some teenager. Some people only judge by looks. Odlef probably can’t get past the fact that I am a kid who is sitting on a much too large throne.
“On the basis, that I won't accept being played by a little child who is almost falling out of the throne! I was disrespected by this farce,” Odlef screams, stomping his foot. He gestures towards his wife and two men further back – probably his personal guards. “I have witnesses!”
“Who do you want to send this time? We have already seen that Angrod doesn't even have to lift a finger against someone of his own age, and I certainly won’t allow you to fight him. A duel makes no sense,” Arthur replies in an attempt to talk some sense into the Meltheim patriarch.
“I will send Senda! He is stronger than Sarda! He will win and restore our honour!” Odlef replies, glaring at Arthur.
“I will kill him,” I interrupt the pointless discussion.
Everybody looks at me with shocked expressions.
Looking at Odlef, I address him directly, “I have had enough of putting up a front! You've already tried to kill me at my introduction party. Let's not try to talk around the obvious. Sarda and Senda provoked the first duel intentionally. You thought I would not be an opponent for them and decided that Sarda was more than enough to get rid of me - or at least humiliate my family.
“You did this because he shows the traits of the royal bloodline stronger than Senda for some reason. His horns are a little larger and his eyes a little brighter than Senda's. With that, it would be easy to argue a marriage with Celes.”
I tilt my head, looking down on Odlef. “I was nice at the party, because it was my introduction party and because there were many people. Allow me to make it clear that I am nothing like the previous kings of Tirna. My grandfather was strong, but also a little easy-going on his subjects. My father is a negotiator, always trying to juggle the various interests of his people. He is afraid of a civil war. Maybe a little too much if it means that he has to compromise with people like you.”
I place a hand on my chest. “I am nothing of the sort. While you are playing according to the law, you are clearly making yourself out to be an enemy of ours, and I don't negotiate with enemies, nor do I attempt to pay them off with concessions. I'll be your future king once Celes and I are married, and when I tell you to jump, you will jump or find yourself one head shorter.”
I smile as the door to the ballroom opens and more palace guards file into the room, pushing Odlef's so-called 'witnesses' aside. Forty men in full battle regalia with short swords and spellstaffs – a type of wand that’s favoured over guns – line up at the walls to the left and right from Odlef and his family.
“If you don't stop your attempts to exploit some badly formulated passages from a hasty treaty, I swear that I will kill Senda if he challenges me. Of course, I'll make it look like an unfortunate accident.” I lean back and show them my teeth.
“Once I am done with him, I'll challenge Sarda, but I'll not kill him,” I explain without shouting, yet speaking loudly and clearly. “I will rip off his balls and feed them to my pet. Then I’ll cast a curse that makes it impossible to regenerate the lost parts. Maybe I’ll even rip off something else and display it in a public showcase in front of the embassy. The parts of anyone who challenges me will be there, including a photo of the previous owner.”
I gesture somewhere above my head. “Because to be honest, I have had it somewhere up to here with challenges. Once I am done making sure that you are the last Meltheim generation, I'll find a way to kill you, Odlef. I'll rip out your heart and drop it in front of your relatives' feet.” I explain with a sweet smile.
Looking back and forth between the guards and me, Odlef gapes, trying to suck in the necessary air to complain. “You are threatening me! It is not allowe-”
“I am not threatening you,” I whisper sweetly, interrupting him. “There are forty people in this room who can confirm that I just explained what will happen if you force me into another stupid duel. I am the future ruler of the whole world, and I most certainly won't spend the rest of my life fighting monthly duels with some ambitious shitstains who think that they can gain something by demonstrating personal combat power, like some illiterate apes.”
I lean forward. “Believe me. What I did to your son the last time was just a small taste of what I am capable of. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I actually like hurting people. Especially when they deserve it. There is something invigorating about their screams. At the moment, I really want to hurt your family while you watch. Please give me a reason.”
I point at the door. “There is the door, Odlef. Pull in your tail and run, or I may issue the challenge myself because you are wasting my time. Make sure that you never – ever – come to my attention again. Keep your head down and don’t interfere with our efforts to create a lasting peace. If not, I’ll suggest to my parents that it may be better to reduce the number of nobility in our two countries.”
Odlef looks at me as if he just found out that there was a scorpion instead of a plush toy in his delivery box.
“This isn't over!” He takes a step backwards, then turns around and leaves without saying goodbye, his wife with the two boys trailing after him. I notice that the backside of Sarda’s pants changed their colour, and that there is a particularly ill odour in the air.
Once the door slams shut behind our unwelcome visitors I jump out of the chair and correct my attire. “What a waste of time!”
“Would you really have done it?” Arthur asks, looking at me from his throne.
I smile at him. “I am a firm believer in the philosophy that everybody is allowed to make mistakes in his life – once. There are no second chances in my book. Odlef, and by extension his family, have used up theirs, especially after I warned them off. Normally, I am not so nice as to do that.”
“You know that they will react badly to this once they get to talk to their faction,” Arthur grumbles with a grim expression.
“Then maybe it’s time for you and my father to use your authority. I don’t get why I am supposed to fix things when our political enemies are so obviously antagonistic towards us.” I gesture towards the door where the Meltheims disappeared. “People like them are opportunists without any sense of loyalty. They are carrion eaters who will pounce the moment they sense weakness and bide their time as long as they think that fighting may cost them too much. The only thing you can do is to make sure that you are always the stronger one, or get rid of them altogether.”
“It sounds so easy, but the Meltheims have a lot of influence. Cutting them out of our political structure won’t happen without spilling a lot of blood,” Arthur explains patiently.
“Yes.” I turn away, intending to do something about my future ability to take my fate into my own hands. “Sometimes, you can only heal a cancer if you cut it out before it kills you. It takes determination to apply the blade to your own body.” Determination which our parents seem to lack.
I find Celes waiting outside the ballroom. She clearly listened in on everything that was said, so I decide to get right to the point. “What do you think?”
She looks at me with an incredulous expression. “You could have been a little nicer.”
“Do you think that would have changed anything? Arthur, Odlef's King and direct superior, was right next to me when the man strolled into our territory like he owned the place. Then he tried to piss onto my leg in plain sight of his liege.” I gesture back towards the throne room.
Celes looks at the door, considering my words. “You are probably right. It's the first time that I listened in on a direct meeting with this fellow. He doesn't show the respect I would expect from a subject. I know that our parents are afraid of a civil war, but given Odlef's behaviour, conflict seems to be an inevitable future.”
“He is behaving like he is at least our equal,” I mumble, narrowing my eyes.
“Which means that either he is grossly underestimating our parents, because they are ruling with such a gentle hand,” she tilts her head, thinking, “or our parents misjudged the true extent of Odlef's reach. He must have some ace up his sleeve, assuring him that he stands a reasonable chance to endure a direct conflict with the crown. His behaviour makes no sense otherwise.”
I huff. “They are too soft.”
“Our parents?” Celes looks at me and shudders. “I don't think so. They are just trying their damnedest to prevent the loss of life that a civil war would take.”
That's why I think they are soft. They would be the perfect rulers for an established kingdom at peace – with loyal subjects. Problem is, some of our subjects clearly aren't loyal. “Maybe it's time to bring out our A-Game and build up our power base and personal strength. As much as I would have liked to enjoy my childhood, this recent encounter makes me think that there is not much time left.”
“I am doing nothing else since we entered school.” Celes straightens herself, looking haughtily at me. “I've planned for fifty-seven possible scenarios in which this conflict could play out.”
I purse my lips. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I prefer to simply squash my problems.” Just like ant-crabs.
Surprisingly enough, she smiles, seeming amused. “So I've heard. So what do you suggest we do next?”
“I think increasing my power-level is first on the list. After showing Odlef my obviously antagonistic attitude, I am sure that he wants me gone sooner rather than later.” I massage my chin, unsure whether I should truly involve Celes in this.
“Reasonable.” She nods. “Should I provide you with some remedies that will help with growing your powers?”
I look at her, remembering that she has got a whole alchemy kit and a room for her toys. “You don't happen to have some acid that's good at dissolving flesh?”
She furrows her forehead, clearly dumbfounded at my request. “Sure. But why would you need that? Do you want to dump it on our enemies?”
“Nothing like that.” I wave a hand. “Go and prepare a generous amount. I'll meet you in your workroom. I just have to get a few things.”
We depart, and I go to my own room to get everything I need, two large cases with various tools and raw materials that are used for enchanting. A minute later, I knock on the door of Celes's workroom and enter.
It's the first time that I take a look at it, and I am not disappointed. Her parents equipped a little laboratory for her. On one table, something that seems like liquid chocolate bubbles in a large keg, while on another, vials with various pills and solutions are laid out in different processing stages.
A third of the room is taken up by several shelves on which various alchemical compounds are stored.
Celes gestures for me to come in while she dumps various liquids into a sizzling bottle. “Come in. I have it almost ready.”
I approach and retrieve a small welding tool and an engraving knife from the case with my tools. Then I get some gold and platinum wire from the other case, the one which holds my raw materials. It's the reason why I am not the least bit envious of Celes's laboratory. Taking into account my precious metals and gemstones, the raw materials my parents gave me are worth at least that much.
“What's your plan?” Celes asks, stirring the bottle with a stick made out of glass.
“Some personal improvement which I normally wouldn't consider.” I close my cases back up. “As a god, there was no reason to enhance myself, but I always kept searching for ways to empower my minions. This method is easy enough and works surprisingly well. Is that the acid?”
“Yes, it should work well enough.” She places the bottle on the table and packs away the solutions which she used to create it. “Though, I don't understand why you would need acid to improve yourself.”
“You will see.” I select a large bowl from the shelf beneath the working area and pour the acid inside it.
“Careful!” Celes warns me. “That stuff is potent.”
“The quicker it works, the better.” I pull off my shirt and Celes actually blushes.
“Aren't we a little too young for that?” she asks, looking away while she plays with her tail.
“No clue what idea you got now, but I didn't want to destroy a new shirt.” I place my hand inside the bowl and hiss when the acid starts bubbling, turning red, then black.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” Celes shrieks, trying to pull out my hand, but I force myself to press it flat down onto the bottom of the bowl as the flesh flakes away, leaving behind white bone and sinew.
“That stings,” I shriek, feeling tears running down my cheeks. “Stings like hell!”
“I bet it does!” Celes complains. “Why would you do that!? It will take days to heal that!”
“Normally, I would use dragonbone. The material is perfect to hold several high-level enchantments. But I learned that living bones work just as well.” I pull my skeletal hand out of the acid and wash it off in the drainage. “Would you take some cord and bind that off? I don't want to leak blood all over your lab.”
“Holy shit. You are nuts,” Celes complains, but does as she was told.
“Only a little.” I take the engraving knife and start cutting little runes into the bone of my hand. “It will take me a while. The whole hand needs to be covered before I can finish the matrix. Then I have to fixate the enchantment by welding the metal into the bone.”
“But what happens when you grow? Won't the runes crack?” Celes asks, worried.
Concentrating on my work, I explain, “It's what I call a growing enchantment. Once I lay the groundwork on my hand, it will slowly grow on its own and cover my whole skeleton. Depending on what I need, I will be able to guide the enchantment, permanently enhancing my body. It'll make wielding magic much easier.”
I huff, trying to ignore the pain. “Once I am done, I will do you too. Maybe you will even become a decent caster.”
“Hell no!” Celes gapes. “I would have to retrain all the internal mana channels in my hand. That would be years of lost training. You may be able to do that because you never properly train your internal pathways, but to me it would be like cutting off a hand!” She shakes her head. “Just do your thing. I'll rely on my pills and remedies. I've no desire to find out later on that having a growing enchantment inside my body messes up my martial arts.”
I harrumph, seeing the point. “Well, you do your thing and I do mine.”
Concentrating on my work, I soon realize that I can't relax with Celes looking over my shoulder. She is breathing down my neck and her tail is flicking here and there, brushing against my flank and sending warm shivers down my spine.
No. Cool down. Remember that we are just children!
Leaning forward, she brushes her chest against my back, so I drop the engraving knife and turn around. “What is it?”
“I am just curious,” she mumbles, stepping back to give me space. “Why the hand?”
“What do you mean, why the hand?” I look at my bony hand. “Because it's easy to work on.”
Instead of giving an answer, Celes reaches out, taking a firm hold of the horn which sprouts from my left temple. Then she pulls left and right, emphasizing the point that the thing is firmly attached to my head... to my skull.
Realisation dawns on my face and her expression turns pitying. “Idiot! You really didn't think at all before you decided to do this!”
“Gah! It's not like I had horns when I designed the enchantment!” I try to salvage the situation. “I would have to change the design to fit onto the horns.”
“But you could have done it.” She mercilessly prods the wound. “Likely easily enough.”
“Probably a few days,” I admit.
She just looks down at my skeletal hand. “Yeah... if I ever take that step, I will wait for you to redesign the enchantment. Though, probably not.”
Hissing, I turn back to the table and take up the carving knife. “I may as well finish what I've started. No point to stop now.” The bones are already curling into a fist because the sinews are drying up, so I have to work quickly.