Duke Lumir Heirosoth stood over a table in his office, a map of his duchy laid over it. His eyes looked with pride at the growing port town he’d managed to build on the northern shores that connected his realm to the rest of the world, the large mountain range that maintained so many profitable iron mines, and the swath of forest that produced capable wood for both ships and bows. All things he achieved despite the obstacles he faced.

His territory was large, but it was overrun by Titanic forces in the last Titan War. Their corruption remained even now, a century later. Their spawn continued to crawl out of their holes, infecting wildlife to bolster their numbers. Even now, they threatened his villages and the traders traveling through his lands. The map before him was marked with dozens of wooden figures of beasts, flags to draw his attention to bandits and other ongoing issues, and too few figures representing the resources he had to deal with it all.

The room still smelled of sawdust despite the fact he’d ordered the carpenters away to focus their efforts on fortifying more vulnerable areas weeks ago. He was convinced that Viraz or Micah kept sneaking them back into his keep to fix up more issues so he could live more like a duke was expected to, something he’d have to speak to them about if he ever got a scrap of evidence.

“Have you managed to find our fifth count?” his older brother asked, accentuating his question by tapping on the final county within Lumir’s territory, an overgrown nightmare where the Titan spawn were most dense and one notably missing a banner to mark the count’s heraldry.

Viraz Heirosoth was Lumir’s polar opposite in many ways: short and wiry instead of tall and muscular; quiet instead of boisterous; calm instead of excitable; and reserved instead of flamboyant. Both had luminous skin and gold-hued eyes that marked them as Astorian-born nephilim that stood out amongst Kelahk’s population, but their efforts at improving the lives here were making up for their foreign origins, at least somewhat. As was the fact that Lumir had married one of Kelahk’s nobles out of love, even if his wife was no longer with them.

“No,” Lumir replied with a sigh. “Plenty express interest, but none have committed to it. I’m afraid the land’s reputation is too grim.”

Viraz cleared his throat with an apologetic glance to Micah, Lumir’s son. “Perhaps finding a new spouse would also bring a free count to the table?”

“Oh brother.” Lumir rolled his eyes. “Not this again. You know I’m not ready to remarry yet. I’m not worried about Micah,” he said, nodding appreciatively at his son, “but Shaya and Rel still haven’t settled in after all these years.”

“They could use a harsher hand and more supervision…”

“Ha! You’re not wrong there, admittedly. They’re very much like their mother.”

“Indeed,” Viraz said, with less enthusiasm. “Now, let’s turn matters back to the issues at hand…”

The duke’s shoulders slumped as he sighed.

Viraz studied his brother and smiled. “Are you thinking about how being ‘rewarded’ this title and land was a double-edged sword?”

Lumir chuckled. “You can always read my mind, brother. I can’t help but wonder if this was a mistake, and everyone who turns down my offer to take up my last county is smarter than I am.”

“Most likely.” Viraz’s smile widened, though he still showed no teeth. He nodded to Micah to continue.

Micah, Lumir’s only biological son, was taller than his father by more than a head. Alongside his giant-blooded height and musculature, he’d inherited Tarrak’s demonic horns and skin through his mother’s line as well. His golden eyes came from Lumir’s side of the family. “Sorry, Dad, I have more bad news from our troublesome county.”

“More monsters?”

“Indeed,” Viraz interjected as his slender fingers placed yet another beast token on the map. “These ones are threatening trade and travel along the Suudowa River, however. It’s too central to our inland trade to leave alone and we’ve already received…complaints.”

“Seven protect, I haven’t even seen that report yet.” Lumir ran his hands through his dark hair. “Why can’t the monsters just eat the bandits? Why can’t we have an ample enough treasury to incentivize the bandits to become monster hunters?”

Viraz spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture but offered no other response.

“I can go,” Micah insisted. “I may not be Academy trained, but I’m still a Fourth Circle mage. I only need a few men to watch my back while I hunt these spawn down.”

“No,” Viraz said, “you need to head north with our army to patrol our border and investigate rumours of piracy.”

“Viraz is right. I’ll send a message to Captain Tyra.” Lumir sighed. “She’s more than a week away, but that’s still the fastest response I can—”

“Good news!” Shaya said, walking towards them. None of them had heard her enter the room.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite niece,” Viraz said, smiling and accepting a hug from her.

“Viraz, I’m your only niece.”

“It’s a good thing too.” Viraz looked down at the mud on his fine, black robes. “I don’t think you could possibly win if there was the slightest bit of competition.”

“Ouch, why would you wound me with such a perfectly reasonable, factual statement?”

“Shaya,” Lumir interrupted, “we’re in the middle of an important meeting. Is your news urgent?”

“Not really—but it is great news!” she gushed, snapping her wrist to unfurl the scroll in her hand. She thrust it towards her adoptive father, whose eyes widened as they took in the gold and teal seal at the bottom of the scroll. “Give me a few years, and this Imperial Warmage will make short work of all of our problems!”

“That’s…that is wonderful news,” Lumir stammered, taken by surprise. He thanked the Seven that she was too excited to catch his own reservations, remembering well how his peers in Arcadia treated his wife when they visited. He walked around the table to give her a hug, even his tall human frame dwarfed by her. “I’m glad the Academy saw your potential and accepted you.”

“I know! I can’t wait!” she replied. Lumir hadn’t seen her this happy since…well, possibly ever. As they parted from the embrace, her grin widened even further, somehow. “With Academy training, I’ll be Second Circle in no time! Then I can upgrade to a fancier amulet like my big bro here.”

She reached up and tapped the small amulet that Micah wore, just like everyone else at the table. Her magic stood in opposition to the three men’s based on the colour wheel, her Ruby opposed by Lumir’s Azurite, her Amber by Viraz’s Sapphire, and her Jade by Micah’s Amethyst. Though each of them only channelled one colour of magic, they were far more experienced than her and their amulets showed that. While Shaya’s amulet was made of copper, Micah’s gold amulet marked him as Fourth Circle, Lumir’s diamond amulet as Fifth Circle, and Viraz’s Mithrite amulet as Seventh Circle.

“Congrats, sis!” Micah added with a grin, clapping her on the shoulder without a hint of jealousy. Unlike Shaya, Lumir’s son was a full nephilim—though not a “pure blood” as the Imperials might prefer. As such, his otherworldly features were more stark in comparison to Shaya’s: more pronounced horns, unmistakable changes to his skin tone. It also meant that he would live for centuries, perhaps even forever, and was far more difficult to kill between raw magical power and the nephilim’s ability to endure pain and shock beyond that of average mortals.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Fortunately for Micah, his mother’s line of descent didn’t seem to have the same temper that Shaya had inherited. A temper that got her mother into a lot of trouble and that Lumir feared was going to get Shaya into more trouble than she could handle, despite her attempts to control it.

“Wonderful news, indeed,” Viraz said, drawing her attention away from Micah. “It’s late summer now and the journey is not a short one—shall you be departing shortly?”

Shaya glanced at the map and took a moment to think before responding. “I think I have a few days before I have to go.” She pointed at Velir, the capital of their duchy, then traced her finger along the Suudowa River until it left their borders. “This will take me into the neighbouring duchy, where I can get to a port town on the Jade Sea.”

“Ah,” Viraz said, lifting a finger, “but there is a problem with your plan, my dear niece. The Suudowa River is currently assailed by spawn, and unsafe to travel.”

Lumir blanched as Shaya’s eyes lit up.

“Spawn?” She turned back to Lumir. “Well, m’lord, I’ve got extra good news for you—I’m sure my friends and I would be happy to deal with your monster problem on our way out. One last adventure together before I leave them in the dust sounds like fun!”

Lumir shook his head. “Just like your mother.”

“And I’ll handle it just as well as she could, if not better. Do we have a formal report?”

Lumir turned to Viraz, who shook his head in response. He turned back to Shaya with a sigh. “This isn’t a game. These Titan spawn are managing to attack a well-patrolled river. That suggests a dangerous level of cunning or a good-sized pack.”

“Lumir,” she said, “when have we ever let you down? We play it safe, get what experience we can, and take our well-earned rewards. We’re professionals, not dilettantes. And I’m going to need the gold. The Academy’s stipend isn’t even going to cover my appetite given the price of food at the Imperial City.”

Lumir shook his head. “I don’t deny your group is capable, but this isn’t a routine patrol or minor hunt.”

“Your father is right,” Viraz cut in, “perhaps this is too difficult for you to handle.”

“No, it’s not,” Shaya insisted. “We’ve handled spawn before, my team has sharp senses and good wits about them. The average patrol can’t match our abilities—or our response time.” She turned back to Lumir. “We can do this on our way out. And if things seem too dangerous, we’ll back off and send a message back.” She glanced at the map, absorbing the markers in seconds “Then you can pull Captain Tyra off her current bandit hunt to deal with this.”

The duke stared at the map and the hostile markers on it that outnumbered his resources. A minute passed in silence before he raised his eyes to meet Shaya’s. “Fine, but you’re taking Krebo with you.”

“I’m pretty sure the arms master would be better served helping others master their arms.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the duke here, and I get to decide that my daughter’s life outweighs the two weeks of training he’d otherwise provide our already capable troops here.”

Shaya smirked. “Alright, from one stubborn ass to another, I accept your conditions.”

“Gods,” he groaned, “you might actually be worse than your mother.”

“Enhh…” Viraz wiggled his hand.

Lumir rolled his eyes before continuing, “Have you told your younger brother yet?”

She sighed with nervous energy. “No, I haven’t told Rel yet.”

“Don’t put it off any longer. The conversation is going to be awkward enough as it is.”

“I know, he’s going to hate that I’m going back there.”

+++++

“Why would I care what you do with your life?” Rel said, not even turning away from his beakers and alembics. Her brother’s giant and demonic blood was only hinted at despite being in his mid-teens, his height hovering under six feet tall and his shoulders and musculature less defined than Shaya’s own. He took after their other mother, the one no one spoke of—all lean muscle and supple grace.

“You…you don’t want to lecture me about how it’s a stupid idea and that I shouldn’t do it?” Shaya asked, shocked.

This is it? Useless anxiety!

“Oh, it’s a stupid idea. You know it’s a stupid idea. You know I think it’s a stupid idea. But we also know that you’re going no matter what I say. So, let’s skip to the part where I call you stupid and wish you all the best anyway, because you’re my sister.”

“Yeah,” Shaya nodded, “fair enough, Rel.”

“Step back for a second,” he ordered.

Shaya did so. She was stubborn, but she wasn’t going to ignore an alchemist’s orders in the lab. Especially an apprentice in his master’s lab, unattended for gods knew what reason.

Relios gently tilted a glass beaker, allowing a single drop of violet liquid to fall into the small vial he held. There was a bloop and the emerald liquid within turned into a putrid black. Acrid smoke poured from the vial’s mouth and into Rel’s face, which was protected by a leather mask and glass goggles. Two small pieces of Jadecyte were affixed at the temples, cut into small gems that glowed green as the smoke billowed over him. The energy flowed through the aethercyte and into the formula of runes inscribed over the protective device.

“I see your alchemy and thaumaturgy lessons are going well,” she commented, “but…where’s Master Baruk—”

The vile stench of liquorice hit Shaya as the smoke dissipated and Rel corked the vial. He set the vial down onto a stand and meticulously went over his equipment, turning off flames using little valves or capping vessels containing glowing liquids. He deigned to answer her question during the process by hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s fine, Smiles is supervising.”

Shaya blanched as she noticed the cat-sized, stone gargoyle perched atop one of the lab’s cabinets—staring at her with unblinking Amethyst eyes. Its face was frozen in a snarl, and she wasn’t sure if the homunculus was even capable of smiling. Runes were carved into the gargoyle’s stone skin from head to toe, claw to wing tip, representing the magical formula that bound a spirit to its mortal form. Shaya felt relieved when its head swivelled back to watch her brother work.

Once he was done with his equipment, Rel picked up the black vial, walked past Shaya, and unrolled a leather pouch. Delicate fingers slid the vial into place, completing the set.

“There you go.” He pulled his protective mask off, gesturing in the pouch’s direction. “Healing potions, my gift to you for your acceptance into the Academy.”

Shaya’s eyes widened as she stared at the set of ten vials, all as black as the first. “How did you know?”

“You’re a spit liar, so it was obvious when you sent off your application,” he replied. “Acceptance letters are sent from the capital at the beginning of summer. Based on how distant we are and the likelihood they didn’t really care if the letter reached you in time, I suspected they’d sent it by Imperial post and it would reach you about…today.”

“But how did you know I’d even get in?”

“As stupid as the Imperials are, they wouldn’t turn down someone with your actual combat experience and an esper that can channel three colours. That’s pretty rare, even by the nephilim’s standards, though likely skewed by their mono-dogmatic beliefs. Besides that, you’re the daughter of an Imperial hero and an imperial criminal, adopted by a faithful Astorian from Zothiria given the title of Duke in Kelahk, and you’re technically a nephilim with Tarrak and Silanir’s blood in you.

“Politically speaking, it would be insane not to accept you. If you turn out great, then they can say that Phaedra and Lumir’s Astorian influence allowed you to best your demonic heritage. If you go berserk and start punching people in the face—which is where I’m putting my money, by the way—they can highlight you as yet another cautionary tale of tolerating Tarrak’s bloodline and the pervasive, undermining roots of being raised by Devi, Arcadia’s greatest heretic and traitor.”

“Titan spit, you were just practicing your potion making.”

“Now now, sister, you have no evid—”

She unrolled another leather pouch on his workbench, revealing a smaller batch of smoke-black vials.

“Okay, but you have to admit my explanation sounds pretty damn good.”

Shaya thought about it for a moment. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Rel gave a lopsided smile. “Best of luck, sis.”

He wheezed as she crushed him in a hug. “Thanks, Rel. I’ll be sure to send you a text on alchemy or something.”

“It’s barely tolerated by the current dynast, so I don’t think you’ll find anything interesting.”

“Fair enough, I guess I’ll send you some manacles or scourge to help you repent your heresy.”

“Not all of us are lucky enough to be chosen by an esper, let alone a powerful one.”

“It is possible for anyone to acquire one, if they find an esper aligned with them.”

“Possible is not the same as probable, sis.”

“Bind one to yourself?”

“That has driven people insane. No thanks.”

“Fair enough.” She rolled up her new leather pouch of potions and headed for the exit. “Thanks for these! I’m sure they won’t come up at all.”

“Sure, sure,” Rel replied, grinning. “Enjoy.”

“Wait a minute.” She turned and scowled at him. “Did you make all my healing potions taste like disgusting liquorice?”

He shrugged. “I had to discourage you from taking stupid risks somehow.”

“Now that’s heresy!”

But not a terrible idea, damn it…