“Don’t be absurd, Princess Marguerite. Executing the Princes of Procer is certainly a sound campaign strategy. Is it not obvious? The outcome of every election is determined by those who show up.”
– Madeline de Jolicoeur, also known as the Fey Enchantress
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Prince Arsene Odon considered the news which had been brought to him. It had come first from Beaumarais, a sleepy border town with barely any residents where nothing much ever happened. There, it had made its way to Apenun, where Lady Lassier had it verified, before sending it on to him.
A city had appeared out in the middle of nowhere inside the borders of his principality. If that had been the extent of it, then it would only be a minor trouble. It still would have raised a fuss, but it likely would have been manageable.
Unfortunately, it didn’t end there. The city was only slightly in excess of two miles in diameter and, to the eyes of the observer, looked more like a chunk of land displaced from somewhere else. In addition, parts of it were grander than even the most extravagant buildings in Salia.
The prevailing theory was that a Praesi warlock had teleported an entire chunk of land deep into the heart of his territory.
Sorcerers had been consulted and were still being consulted as to the likelihood of the Calamities to the East to have engineered a feasible mass teleportation spell. Military strategists were speculating on whether they needed to be primed for an oncoming invasion. Cartographers and historians had been asked to see if they could determine where exactly the chunk of city had come from.
The ritual, for what else could it have been, was extraordinarily efficient as the expected desolation which should have accompanied such a working was notably marked as absent.
The Praesi had managed to make a headache for him without even having landed a single soldier in his territory.
Experts were being consulted to determine the feasibility of actually sustaining a city in that location, now that it was there. Just because the structures existed, didn’t mean living there was a good idea. Investigations would also need to be done to establish how such a city was constructed in the first place. And, lowest on his list of worries, maps would need to be redrawn.
All of these paled in importance compared to his largest headache, though. That was obviously the political fallout.
Somehow, news of the city’s appearance had made its way to Princess Constance of Aisne. She had determined that she wanted a piece of the pie for herself. It wasn’t within her borders, but that hadn’t stopped her from pulling together her troops and having them set to march. Her goal wasn’t to occupy it, so much as it was to seize the place for a short term and then scavenge what she could before pulling out. His informants among her retinue had confirmed as much.
So now he was forced to muster up a response.
The civil war, having gone on for nine years now, was bad enough on its own. Having to concern himself with this in addition to the ongoing jostling for the position of First Prince made him almost consider just conceding the prize to her. The problem was that it seemed like too enticing a prize to lose.
And after multiple fights with her on his northern border, he wasn’t prepared to just roll over without a fight. He wanted her dead too much to just do that.
He would need to watch his borders closely to ensure that Prince Arnaud didn’t take advantage of the reduced manpower down south while his forces were deployed in response to Princess Constance. The real concern was that he wasn’t sure whether it would be wiser to inform all the other Princes about the city, or try to keep it a secret held in reserve.
News would inevitably find its way to all of them. Even if it wasn’t known to Princess Constance, there was no way something that size could remain entirely unknown. However, there could be an advantage both in breaking it early, to offset actions taken by the others elsewhere, and in keeping it quiet for as long as possible.
He grimaced. He would likely need to be the one to break the news, if only to deny the advantage of doing so to Princess Constance in the process. The entire situation was a mess. With Princess Aenor currently favoured for the position of First Prince, he didn’t want to suddenly have to turn his attention away from the southern border, for fears of her biting at the time. She had the largest coalition backing her, and was the one most likely to cause problems.
When scrambling for power in the halls of the highest assembly, having an unexpected monster climb out from under his chair like this was not a surprise that he wanted. If it had appeared elsewhere, under one of his rival’s chairs, then he would have felt more comfortable. At that point, it would have only presented an opportunity. But it had appeared in his own lands, which meant the other Princes were eyeing him, and that made it a weakness as well. He had to worry about whether feeding the monster was a mistake, and if it would decide to eat him.
Finally, having come to a conclusion, he gave the orders. He would ride out and investigate the city. After he had seen it with his own eyes, he would decide what to do with it himself.
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Princess Constance smiled, the gift that had dropped into her lap seemingly from the heavens presented an opportunity she had no choice but to seize. When she had declared regency in Salia and the other Princes had laughed as they left the chamber, she had sworn to herself she would see herself seated as First Prince. Nine years of war later and she was tired to the bone.
She currently had the support of Prince Amidis among others, although she suspected that he was conspiring with Princess Aenor as well. That was, however, how these games were played. So long as she stuck to a narrow enough path, she could thread this needle and come out the other side.
Which was why the report she had just received had come as such a pleasant surprise. The original copy had been sent to Prince Arsene. If the initial report provided to Lady Lassier had not faced a request for verification, it was likely she would not have seen it until it was too late to act. She had long since bought out the person responsible for processing such requests. Very rarely, something would land on their desk which was of critical importance, but hadn’t seen itself elevated to the Lady herself. The position itself did not face enough scrutiny that she couldn’t replace it with one of her own men, and thus sometimes it gave her an edge.
This was the perfect opportunity for her to finally get the best of Prince Arsene. The reports of the city that was found made for an opening far too tempting to ignore. If he was forced to act early, he would feel compelled to investigate himself, which would provide a chance for her to strike.
She arranged for information to be leaked to one of his known spies, allowing them to “discover” that she was planning an organized raid into his territory to claim spoils from the site. That would provide him with all the incentive he needed to leave the safety of his walls.
In reality, she would head out with an army of four thousand strong. She would need to consult with her sharper military minds. Moving this many soldiers around without Arsene catching on would be difficult, especially considering they would need to be supplied. If she succeeded here, though, she would be using a rare opportunity to finally pull out a perpetual thorn in her side.
She would ride the Ebb and the Flow all the way to the seat of the First Prince, or she would die trying.
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The city which was slowly appearing over the edge of the horizon strained the limits of belief. Towers that reached up and seemed to touch the sky, stranded in the wilderness. If he was not here, Prince Arsene would discount the entire affair as farcical.
A quarter of an hour later and he gave the orders for his forces to set up camp. It was just past noon, and they were close enough to make out finer details. Over two thousand troops, all brought out, because some Praesi prick decided to play god somewhere in his principality. A force this large necessitated complicated logistics, which weren’t made any easier by the presence of camp followers.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
After consulting with one of his wizards, he was told they couldn’t detect any hostile magics waiting for them. That surprised him. The Praesi were known for enchanting absolutely everything they could. They would coat a city like this from foundation to rooftop in magics, just because they had the means to do so.
He issued commands for the scouts to head out and gather intelligence on their destination, and sent some sorcerers along with them. Better to play it safe and be sure, then be caught unaware. Then he settled in to wait. Two hours later, the first of those scouts started to trickle back in. Aside from a rough outline on the actual layout of the city, news on Princess Constance forces had been provided.
She had sent just over a thousand troops of her own, all cavalry, and they were camped on the opposite side. Definitely a raiding force, as his informant had suggested.
After consulting with his strategists on the matter, they recommended moving in and seizing the place in advance. The buildings were tall and if they scaled them on the inside, they could rain dwarvern crossbow bolts down on the enemy forces from above when they approached. By making strategic use of choke points, they could minimize losses and turn the battle into the kind of one-sided slaughter that would serve as a warning to Princess Constance about why she should stick to her own lands.
They would need to send in an advance force first. Decamping entirely without first establishing a stronger ground presence would be a poor idea.
The city itself proved to be more intriguing. Initial reports described what sounded to be manhole covers similar in nature to the ones in Ater. After a scout had gone to the effort of removing one of them, they had been puzzled to find that rather than there being an elaborate sewer system below, instead there was a hard ground surface.
That provided more evidence to support both the Praesi wizard theory and the teleporation theory. This was further backed up by what looked to be the remains of some sort of Praesi summoning ritual.
The fact that none of the wizards he had sent out had detected any enchantments, however, spoke to the opposite. The idea that the Praesi could, or even would, build something on this scale without branding it with their signature magics was so out of character for them as to border on absurd.
No news had come out of the East mentioning the construction of such marvels, though, which was a major concern. If they were operating on such a large scale and successfully preventing intelligence of it from making its way out West, then the Calamities were a far greater threat than they were already considered to be. The matter would need to be raised at the Highest Assembly at his earliest convenience.
If the civil war continued for much longer and Praes was allowed to develop unchecked, it would threaten the security of the Principate.
No matter, that was a task for later. After he had his men form up into ranks, he gave the orders to march. It was best to seize the opportunity now.
They arrived in the city and began to make their way down the empty, snow covered streets. The quiet of the place was unsettling. A place this grand should be filled with the clamour of people hawking their wares or merely moving from one place to another. They drew close to the centre of the anomaly, the point with the ritual circle, which stood under the shadow of the largest building around.
His commanders started issuing orders. Sending squads to occupy select buildings, with the intention of having infantry holding the narrow approaches.
That was when everything started to go awry.
Crossbow bolts started to rain down on them from the buildings above. The enemy commanders had apparently seized upon the same idea and had time to set it into motion before him.
The entire city was a trap.
They could risk trying to push forward and scale the buildings, turning the trap back onto the enemy, but they didn’t know how many troops Princess Constance had actually sent in here. They also didn’t know how much time she had spent preparing to mount a defence. If he made the wrong call, it could cost him his Principality.
Bitterly, he swallowed his pride and called the retreat.
They started pulling back in as orderly a manner as possible, whilst being peppered with crossbow fire from above. As they were approaching the exit, the next part of his foes scheme made itself known.
The force of a thousand cavalry which had been camped on the opposite side had circled around and were sacking their camp.
They must have been signalled somehow when we made our approach.
They quickened their pace, heading back fast. By the time they had arrived, the enemy forces had already pulled out, leaving their camp a mess. Distantly, Prince Arsene realized it had all been far too neat, too well organized. As if his foe had arranged the entire affair from start to finish.
Most likely, that meant that his informant had either switched allegiances or was compromised.
Their supplies had been either seized or put to torch. This was friendly territory, which meant he and his men could, in theory, go a day or two without anything to eat, provided they all pulled out. Resupplying could be done elsewhere, and there were no shortages of rivers providing water to drink.
The problem was it meant ceding this fight to Princess Constance and with it, the prize. More and more, however, that looked to be the way this fiasco was headed. Casualty reports had come in, and they had lost just under a hundred men, with not a single strike landing on an enemy to show for it.
Those were the kinds of losses that could break an army.
He was just about to start issuing orders when a scene out of myths and legends lit up the sky. His heart dropped and for the first time in his life, Prince Arsene felt truly humbled.
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Princess Constance had to make a conscious effort to maintain her poise as she watched the battlefield from many floors up in the sky. The best case hadn’t materialized and Prince Arsene had pulled out early, preventing himself from being truly beaten. He would live to see another day, but the prize was still hers for the taking.
And it was an even greater prize than anyone had initially thought. Her engineers and wizards had been studying samples taken from all over the city. From their excited ramblings, none of the construction here had been performed at the hands of sorcery. That meant that with a sufficient understanding of the natural sciences, her engineers could see all of it reproduced. It would take them some time and effort, but eventually progress would be made.
She watched as Prince Arsene’s forces made their way back to the remnants of their camp in defeat. This would serve as a lesson for him, a reminder as to why it was she who should claim the position of First Prince.
That was when everything began to go wrong.
The sky darkened above and hundreds, no thousands of metal contraptions, blocked out the light of the sun. Then something began to fall from them. Black rain, coming down from above. The first of the projectiles touched one of the buildings roofs and then detonated.
And more of them continued to fall.
She had thought that the Gnomes were just a myth. A fable to tell children about the hubris of reaching too high. Hastily, she ordered the evacuation, joining in the retreat herself.
It was a nightmare straight out of the blackest of Praesi hells.
The detonations continued unabated, the ground shaking beneath her feet as more explosives continued to fall. Shrapnel danced through the air and as she continued to run, she had a far closer look than she would like at the city’s collapse.
Thump, thump, thump went her feet on the floor below her. Thump, thump, thump went her heart. She was panting, sweat ran down her forehead as she threw herself down another flight of stairs.
Suddenly she was tumbling through the air.
Her arm struck a railing, bent at an angle that arms were not supposed to bend. Suppressing a whimper of pain, she pulled herself to her feet and pressed on. The world was spinning. She felt lightheaded. Why were those spots dancing in front of her eyes?
The floor she was on seemed to tilt, and suddenly gravity agreed that the wall was the way down. Why all of this? Why her?
A deep despair filled her as she fell, and then the darkness took her.
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Half an hour later, Prince Arsene and his forces found themselves the only survivors. All of them stood solemnly, looking on at the blackened crater occupying the space that had once been claimed by a city from myths and legends.
It seemed fitting, that foes from myths and legends had come to see it buried.
Barring the cavalry, Princess Constance’s forces had been killed to a man, and yet he could not find it in him to call this a victory. This was a fight where everyone had lost. He didn’t know if she herself had been on this field, if she had, she was almost certainly among those who had been buried.
There would be stories told of this day, although what nuggets of wisdom would be drawn from them, only time could tell. The scene he was seeing was one that was forever branded into his mind. A lesson he would not forget. For all the Principate’s vaunted pride, they were still like ants as to giants compared to the greater powers in Creation.
There were forces out there that could kill them all at a whim, and it was best to leave those monsters alone.