“I spend plenty of time reflecting already, Warlock. My helmet is polished to a sheen.”

―Dread Empress Sulphurous, the Technically Correct

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Leaving my meeting with Cordelia, I made my way back to the dressing room and changed into something more drab. A part of me wanted to keep wearing the outfit, but it would clash with my current goals.

Finalizing my fashion changes, I slowly made my way out of the fortress.

I had three objectives for the day.

The first goal was to take time for myself to grieve.

In the past, I had always compartmentalized, shoved my emotions aside to deal with them later. In the time I had spent reflecting on the road, I had come to realize that it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t good for me, and doing so pushed me into making decisions that were more and more rash.

So I would make the time to mourn, even if it cost me time somewhere else.

The second was to learn more about Cordelia Hasenbach. I’d talk to the residents of Rhenia and see what they thought of her. It was imperative that I learned what kind of person she was, before I chose one way or the other.

That was why I took the time to change my outfit. I had no idea how people would interpret, “girl walking around dressed like royalty,” but the responses I would evoke would certainly be different to looking like I fit in with the working class.

My third goal was to start making inroads with the House of Light. I didn’t know how much authority I had with them, if any, but they were the faction that I felt I would have the best chance of influencing.

After becoming lost in the fortress more than once, I asked a servant to guide me out. The place was like a maze on the inside. I made my way through the building onto the cobbled roads outside.

I looked around, taking in the city outside. The sun had not yet risen, and yet the residents were active, carrying out their duties by the light of lit torches.

Rhenia felt grim. As if it was perpetually teetering on a knife’s edge, expecting to unbalance and fall one way or the other. The people had an air of weary anticipation about them. They walked firm of purpose, with shoulders hunched and fists balled. It was as if they had been conditioned to expect a fight around every corner.

Considering the Chain of Hunger loomed near, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

I made my way towards the southern outskirts of the city. There was a small grove of trees that clung to the edge of life. Searching, I found an otherwise unremarkable boulder sitting all alone in their shadow.

It was perfect for what I wanted.

Concentrating, I began to change its shape. It took me a few minutes before I was satisfied. Not because the changes I was making were hard, but because it took me a while to make up my mind.

The finished product was a rectangular slab with an empty flask resting on its side atop it. The flask was made out of quartz and was fused into the stone, so it wasn’t like anyone would be walking off with it. It was a cenotaph for Max. I didn’t know how old he was. He never told us, and it didn’t really matter.

Maxime Redflame.

He gave us purpose.

I could have made something elaborate, but I felt this suited him better.

“Hey, Max,” I began softly. “When I first met you, I did everything I could to avoid you. You were rough, crass, drunk and generally unpleasant to be around. But you were also the only person who saw me as me.”

I felt tears begin to well at the edges of my eyes. I did nothing to suppress them. Compassion draped itself gently around me, but I wasn’t paying it much notice.

“You saw an aimless, depressed, lonely girl and tried to put life back into her. And you did it. It took you a long, long time, but you did it. Despite all your faults ― and there were many ― you were a good person. Someone I came to care about far more than I ever expected.”

Sniffing, I took a moment to compose myself.

“I feel bad, because I wasn’t able to help you overcome your own loss,” I said, my voice hoarse. “When I arrived, I had no faith and no hope. Now, I definitely have hope and for you… I think I can find faith. Faith that the world can become better, because I didn’t think I could. So I guess what I want to say is thank you, and that I promise I won’t let you down.”

The chatter of insects had died as I talked. The world was still, almost as if it was holding its breath.

“I already disappointed one dad, I don’t want to disappoint another.”

I felt better for having said it aloud. One of my regrets was never patching things up with my dad. Max wasn’t him, but at least I didn’t have that regret.

I sat there silently for over an hour, pondering if I should say anything else. I decided against it.

Eventually, I stood up. A sparrow landed on the lip of the flask as I turned and left.

The sun had risen by the time I arrived back at the fortress city. I started to slowly wander down the streets. I found myself gravitating first towards a shabby looking tavern on my left. Despite the time, I could hear the loud bickering of voices coming from inside. People really did drink at all hours, didn’t they? Not that I should really expect otherwise, considering my own adventures with alcohol.

I repressed a shudder.

Approaching the door, I entered the building.

I spent a moment just appreciating what it was like to be able to walk into a building without asking for an invitation. It was striking how something so mundane could feel novel after all this time.

“Is something the matter, lass?” A kindly looking elderly lady asked me, the wrinkles on her face creasing as she did so.

My reverie was broken.

“No, I’m fine. Just needed a moment to reflect,” I explained.

“Well, you just call if you have a problem, see?”

“I’ll do that,” I smiled her way, thankfully.

I took a moment to survey the room. Up near the bartender was a small group of what I guessed were travelling merchants. They were seated together and talking amiably.

Perfect.

If there was going to be anyone I could obtain an outside opinion on Cordelia from, it would be people who weren’t locals. The opinions of the locals arguably mattered more, but I wanted to cast my net as wide as possible and not just settle for the first fish I caught.

I made my way over and sat down beside them.

“― so, as I was saying, the route between Callow and Bayeux is especially profitable right now,” a blonde haired weasel of a man in his early thirties called out.

“That’s only because caravans passing near Constance’s Scar keep disappearing. It’s not worth the extra risk,” the dark haired girl sitting next to him replied.

“Excuse me,” I butted in, “My name’s Taylor. The three of you look like travellers on the road. I’m interested in a bit of gossip from outside Rhenia. Care to trade stories?”

They turned to look at me.

“The name’s Jacqueline,” the girl replied, turning her steel grey gaze my way. “You don’t sound like you’re from Rhenia either. What’s a foreign girl like you doing up here?”

“It’s a long story,” I evaded.

“I’m sure it is,” she sounded amused. “Shouldn’t you know about the goings-on from outside, not being local yourself?”

“I’ve been stuck here for over a year. Hadn’t had much in the way of outside news.”

“Tough,” the third figure said in a deep, earthy voice.

I turned his way. He was broad shouldered and tall. I felt small seated beside him. His brown eyes roamed over me, examining me closely. Although it wasn’t in a way that felt offensive, his focus seemed to linger more on scars than anything else.

“How about this, Taylor. You help settle our little argument here, and we’ll answer your questions,” Jacqueline took a sip from a tankard as she finished speaking.

“Sure. What are you arguing about?”

“Money,” she grinned. “Ever since the Gnomes bombed Princess Constance, travel in the region between Aisne and Bayeux has been dangerous. Entire convoys disappear during the night, and people claim to see strange visions out of the corners of their eyes. Anyone daring to haul goods through the area makes a killing for it, provided they live. I reckon we should give it a skip, but the other two are feeling more adventurous.”

Faintly, I could feel the tugging of a story as they spoke. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem to be a story involving me. I wasn’t new to stories involving others rather than myself. It had been common enough when travelling with Roland.

This was the first time I had seen an unfolding story where I had no idea who any of the players involved were. It wasn’t even involving the people I was talking to. It shouldn’t have surprised me that it was possible to find an ongoing story without having any ties to it at all, but somehow it did.

“I’d leave it. Money isn’t going to buy you your life back.”

“See guys, I knew she’d be sensible,” Jaqueline teeth showed as she smiled broadly. “Us girls need to stick together, right?”

“Sure.”

“With scars like those, I’m surprised you’re not eager for blood,” the third figure said, his hazel eyes meeting my own.

I shrugged.

“I didn’t fight because I li-.”

“If you’re here, you’re paying. Either buy something or get out,” a pot-bellied man interjected, glaring my way.

I…hadn’t thought to carry any money with. This would be significantly less awkward if my trousers had any pockets. As it stood, I had no way to hide the act of transmutation. It wouldn’t be much of an issue to go out and resolve the problem, but it was still annoying.

“I’ll be back shortly, I don’t have any money on me,” I said, starting to stand up.

“No, stay. Rupert will cover for you. Won’t you, Rupe?” Jacqueline turned towards the broad shouldered man, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine. Owner’s an ass, but we’ren’t. What’ll you have?”

“Just some milk. I swore off anything stronger.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there,” the woman stated.

The owner muttered something under his breath, before bringing me the drink in a mug. Taking a sip, I suppressed a grimace. The milk was sour.

“There is, but it’s not one I want to talk about right now. To bring the conversation back to where we started, I’m curious what people outside Rhenia say about Cordelia Hasenbach.”

“Wantin’ ta gossip on the Prince? Well, can’t say I blame you, but there ain’t much ta tell. Folk on the road’ll let you know that she’s good at keeping the wheels greased. She’s been runnin’ the place from her thirteenth summer. She’s done a good job of it as well. Folks are happy. If you want ta know about her politics, well… None of us pay much attention ta that sort of news.” Rupert finished.

It wasn’t as much as I wanted to know, but it was a start. I didn’t expect to find out enough from only a single conversation anyway.

We talked a little longer before I eventually made to leave. I spent some time wandering around, talking to everyone I could. While I was able to learn little about her as a person, one detail had been firmly lodged in my mind. Much as I expected, Cordelia Hasenbach was an excellent administrator. In addition to that, her people liked her, despite the fact that she wasn’t a warrior Prince.

Considering she ruled Rhenia, that was an achievement. Their people placed value in strength of arms, simply because come spring each year they needed to contest with the Ratling hordes. Earning their respect, despite not fighting on the front herself, spoke volumes about how capable she was.

Making my way purposefully down the streets of Rhenia, I soon found myself outside a chapel representing the local House of Light. Despite knowing the Gods were real, I had only ever set foot in one shortly after I first arrived.

Back when I asked someone to show me the Light.

I smiled fondly at the memory as I stepped through the door. There were rows of empty pews inside. The place was peaceful.

Nobody was in.

I supposed it wasn’t the time for worship, but that was fine.

I felt a stronger connection to Compassion on the inside. It was almost as if they were right here with me, with just a paper thin wall between us as a divider. Something about them felt different after so long. It was hard to define, and at first I wasn’t sure what it was exactly. I almost tripped and fell when I realized what it was.

It was an invitation.

I had known in abstract that simply swearing yourself to a Choir wouldn’t be enough to become their chosen hero. If that was the case, then there would be far more heroes. Each Choir obviously had their own requirements for their favoured representatives. This was them implicitly stating that not only did I meet most of their requirements, they believed if I swore to follow all of them, I would be able to stick to the oath.

… And that even if I had not yet decided to follow them, they had chosen me. In a way, it was more meaningful, but also more scary. It was them placing their faith in me and not the other way around. It didn’t change anything unless I actually went through with it, but it was an added complication. Now, I needed to worry about how what I did would reflect on the Choir, because people would assume that I represented them. They would also technically be correct.

I wouldn’t be accepting the invitation, but it hadn’t been revoked. It was still there, waiting for me in case I ever changed my mind. Unless I changed for the worse, or they found someone else, it would likely remain there for a long time.

Taking a seat on one of the benches to the right, I elected to wait. It was a wooden log that had been turned on its side and had barely been carved into the semblance of a seat at all. As far as chairs went, it wasn’t the most comfortable. Subtly, I reshaped it. I wasn’t sure if it counted as blasphemy to make the seating in the house of light less painful to sit on, but I doubted the Gods Above minded.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It felt like hours had passed before someone else showed up.

“Do you seek guidance with a matter of faith, my friend?” a woman’s voice reverberated gently against the walls.

I almost responded by reflex that I wasn’t religious, when I remembered to hold my tongue. It would be an easy way to start off on the wrong foot, and it was much easier to just avoid the topic entirely.

… Besides, it wasn’t completely true. I didn’t worship the Gods Above right now, but live long enough and one day I probably would. I wasn’t opposed to the ideals presented by the Gods Above. It was their definition of guidance I found fault with.

I didn’t disagree with the idea that people needed to be guided. In fact, I strongly agreed with it. Everyone needed assistance sometimes, me included. Without the help of Roland and Max, I probably wouldn’t have come back to myself. I just didn’t believe that guidance necessitated the removal of free will.

The type of world I was trying to make likely required the presence of Gods I was willing to worship, otherwise it would fall apart. It meant that I needed to convince them to change their minds. To persuade them to adopt a different definition of guidance, and to leave my vision of the world alone once I had put it in place. I knew it wasn’t impossible to do that, even if it wouldn’t be easy.

The definition of Good shifted on the subject of slavery, after all. It didn’t really matter if it was a hero or a villain who did the shifting, because the truth remained the same. The definitions were allowed to drift.

I had no idea what it would take to convince them, it was more or less the final stage of achieving my dream. So long as I didn’t find it morally reprehensible, I was willing to go through with it. Even if it was something absurd, like a thousand years of praying to the Gods Above in order to change their minds. Being the most persistent spam caller in Creation wouldn’t be fun, but I’d suffer through it if that was the price.

Not aiming low at all, are you, Taylor?

“Not the type of problem you would usually be faced with,” I replied wryly, turning her way.

She wore a simple robe and was about my height and age, with fair hair kept in a thick braid.

She sat beside me on the bench, folding her arms on her lap.

“Then I will strive to answer to the best of my abilities.”

“I want to know who all the movers and shakers in the church are and what I’d need to do to contact them.”

“Planning to involve yourself in politics?” The hint of a bemused smile graced her lips.

“Someday,” I shrugged. “For now, I just want some idea of what the people at the top believe needs to happen for the world to change.”

She looked over me carefully, her gaze hardening as she did so.

“I hope you are not trying to solve all the world’s difficulties with swords. That way only leads to swords finding you in turn.”

She sounded almost as if she was trying to fit a sermon into her speech. It was mildly amusing.

“No, I’m not. Some problems can be killed, but most of the ones that I am interested in solving can’t be.”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“What is it exactly that you are trying to do.”

“I come from a land far off. We had different customs and beliefs. On the whole, people’s lives were much better than they are here. The Principate would be considered dysfunctional, never mind Praes.” I stopped.

The sister’s eyes widened.

“You are the Chosen I was called to look at. The one that was asleep,” she stated, her entire demeanour shifting. It was fascinating to watch, as if she had transformed from one person to another.

I should have realized she would have seen me before.

“I am.”

“What is the biggest difference about Calernia and your home?” she asked, sounding intrigued.

“The stories we had were different. What I want is to know who I should talk to about trying to kill Calernia’s villain stories.”

It was the simplest way to explain what I wanted.

I knew that what I was trying to do was impossible. In a much closer to the literal, than the figurative sense of the word. What I wanted was a world where there are no villains because people are happy with the existing state of affairs. A world where villain stories just won’t work. If I had just one lifetime to do it, I’d aim lower. But that was the catch, wasn’t it? I wasn’t ageing, and eternity is a long, long time. I had plenty of time to figure this out.

It didn’t mean I could act slowly, or spend forever on minute details. If I didn’t make a big enough impact, the narrative would just undo itself. But it meant that every time I failed, I still had time to try again. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

I definitely wasn’t sure about all the right steps to reach my destination, but knew some right and some wrong ones. I wouldn’t be happy with just controlling everyone and taking away their choices. Either with magic, or through tyrannical government oversight. I knew that to bring the world to where I wanted it to be would take many gradual, small changes. Stories are cultural. If I wanted to change them, I’d need to slowly shift entire cultures.

“For one chosen by Compassion, it surprises me that you would resort to violence,” she chided.

I was about to tell her I wasn’t sworn to Compassion when I felt a gentle nudge.

Right.

I was still representing them, even if I wasn’t sworn to them.

“Killing stories doesn’t mean killing people. It’s about… preventing the circumstances that cause them to happen.”

I wasn’t opposed to violence where it was the only answer. You can’t negotiate with a hurricane, and the same is true with many of the villains in Creation, or tragedies like the Chain of Hunger. Creatures there were compelled to keep eating all the time, and would resort to cannibalism if there wasn’t another available source of food.

“You would take on all the world’s ills then,” she mused.

“Not even that. I spent the last two years in Callow,” my gaze hardened. “The Black Knight is not a stupid man. He is approaching the same issue, but from the opposite side of the table. He builds orphanages so he can keep watch over the orphans. I bet that he kills any children that have heroic tendencies. He isn’t trying to just kill heroes, he's trying to stop them from happening at all.”

“So you would take the same approach then as the monster who burned down the Blessed Isles. Careful that you stray down that path, for using Evil to war against Evil does not result in Good.”

“Copying his methods wouldn’t work, Good and Evil’s stories aren’t the same,” I agreed. “That doesn’t mean that Good couldn’t use different methods to achieve the same ends. We aren’t trying to replicate the method, we’re trying to replicate the Good version of the same outcome.”

“The children of Compassion are ever the saddest of us. They see the world as it should be and not as it is. I hope that you live to see the world that you dream of,” she replied diplomatically.

What went unsaid is that she believed I wouldn’t.

“Thanks.”

“The clergy in Salia have the kind of influence you need. I can draft a letter of introduction for you, and pass on your thoughts. But until the Principate stops warring with itself, it is unlikely you will be able to enact the kind of change that you seek.”

It was disappointing, but also expected. It also gave me more incentive to try to find an acceptable solution to the civil war.

“I would appreciate it if you did so,” I replied.

“Is there anything else you need help with?”

“I’m looking for a friend, another hero. The two of us were separated at Liesse. I want to know what happened to them.”

That line of inquiry proved to be more promising. After I provided her with details on Roland, the two of us spoke for a little longer. Before I left, she asked if I would join her in prayer. I did. I wasn’t sure if it was blasphemous or not, given that I didn’t have faith. But after some thought, I decided I may as well get a head start on my thousand years of complaining. It didn’t take much time out of my day, and if it actually paid off, it was worth the cost.

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I spent another three days alternating between resting, composing my thoughts and talking to people before I was finally ready to speak to Cordelia Hasenbach once more.

In that time, I had begun to form an opinion on her as a leader. She was a far better ruler than I would ever be. I wasn’t sure how far I was willing to support her until I understood her as a person, but I was not opposed to her being positioned as First Prince on the grounds of merit alone.

More importantly, I understood the role she filled. Not only was she younger than Coil, she was also younger than me.

Her opinions on what was right wouldn’t be set in stone yet, and despite living in an arguably worse world, she had almost certainly had an easier life. It was wrong to call her sheltered but… I felt I could influence her view of the world. If I felt she wasn’t a good enough person, I could be her moral compass.

Something is wrong with the world if I feel like I can be someone’s moral compass.

There was a part of me that felt I should take the time to assess all the leaders in the Principate before I chose to side with one of them. It was the safe choice, the smart choice. Then there was the part of me that was squinting at the story I was in. The tale that strongly hinted at Cordelia.

I had decided to try to shape this story.

That meant extending some trust to Cordelia.

What little I had seen of her had shown me that Cordelia was an industrious girl and was never not in the process of doing something. Finding time for a meeting with her was difficult as a result. I hunted her down during her early morning walks on the city ramparts and matched my pace to hers.

“Have you come to a decision on the matter of the civil war?” She asked.

There was a light rain falling down from above. Barely a drizzle, but it still made it just a little harder for me to see. I could have pushed it away, but I chose not to.

Keeping in contact with little inconveniences like this were a way of reminding myself that I wanted to still be human at the end of my journey.

“Before I make up my mind, I want to know more about you. What do you want?”

She paused in her walking, then turned to me, examining me closely.

“You wish to understand my motives?”

“That’s right.” I looked over the ramparts at the mountains in the distance. “The speech you gave was compelling, and if you gave it to any other hero, you would have won them over. But that isn’t what I care about. I care about building the future. What do you see the Principate looking like once you are in control? What do you believe in, and what do you want?”

She looked amused at the question. There were more than a few heartbeats of silence before she decided to respond.

“It is my desire for the people of the Principate to be safe. For our walls to be secure against the Evils to the north and the east. I want idiots like Prince Dagobert of Lange and Aenor of Aequitan to stop drowning Procer in blood. I do not wish to rule the Principate for my own sake. There is not a single individual among the other Princes prepared to do their duty to their people, and so I will.”

Cordelia’s voice was venomous by the time she finished speaking, I could hear the anger in what she said. It might be a mask, a carefully crafted lie to buy my allegiance. I didn’t think that was the case. In my mind, it was the first declaration she had made that wasn’t carefully hidden behind at least five layers of doublespeak.

More tellingly, I felt the faintest strings of a story tie themselves around her at her declaration.

“And what will you do once you are in charge?”

“The Principate will need to undergo several financial reforms in order to recover from the damage that has accrued over the past fourteen years. The influence of the Pravus Bank must be excised at the roots. I intend to found an order of sorcerers, in an effort to dismantle Praes’s magical supremacy. With sufficient leverage, I intend to repeal the Right of Iron, in an effort to prevent farces like this as well as other historical follies from occurring again.”

“The Right of Iron?”

I wasn’t familiar with the term.

“It’s the prerogative by which the princes of Procer can wage war as they wish. Were it revoked, princes would require some manner of justification in order to declare war.”

I had not yet spent enough time with Cordelia to form a solid opinion on her, but I was gaining the impression that she was a reformist of sorts. She wanted change. I did not understand the finer details of the changes she wanted, but I grasped enough to know we at least had some common ground.

“I’m willing to hear your offer,” I stated, “but my acceptance depends on what you want me to do.”

Provided she didn’t want me to go against my own principles, there was enough room here for us to negotiate. As time passed, I could pick her brain on the problems I wanted to be solved and see how she would handle them.

Even if it turned out she wasn’t the person I needed, she was certainly smart enough to help turn my ideas into concrete plans.

Cordelia started walking again, I followed slowly behind her.

“You would be better positioned to answer that. Aside from the confrontation with the Warlock, nobody is entirely sure what you can do.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“Admittedly, we do not have much to go on aside from hearsay from Liesse and the words of wizards. Klaus Papenheim has suggested treating you as an exceptionally skilled sorcerer.”

After all this time, the stereotype that I was a wizard had failed to leave me. It was almost nostalgic.

The question was, how much did I want to say. I felt a gentle but insistent tugging from my name.

Trust people.

It…made sense to trust her. It was good to be cautious, paranoid even, but I would bet my enemies knew more about what I could do than I did. If I wanted to beat them, then I would need properly informed allies.

“Almost anything you can think of,” I told her honestly.

She said nothing for a moment, but I got the sense she didn’t quite believe what I said.

“I can reshape everything I’ve encountered so far into objects I am familiar enough with. I can’t generate materials out of nothing and I can’t make myself smarter, but I can do anything else. If I wanted to, I could probably end any monopolies on goods within Procer on my own. It would take me a while, but I could do it.” I explained.

Cordelia didn’t look like she believed it, but she didn’t question what I said.

“Then the question becomes more about what you are willing to do. The priest that inspected you claimed that you have the touch of Compassion upon you. Does that mean that you are unwilling to kill?”

“Yes and no. I’m not going to kill anyone you want without proper justification, and I’m not willing to massacre entire armies. But if I come face to face with someone who needs to die, I’m not going to hesitate.”

“Killing every last soldier to a man would not be an acceptable outcome were you to do it. Doing so would see me denounced as a tyrant, and that is not an acceptable form of rule.”

While it was good to know she didn’t want to just use me as a siege weapon, it didn’t tell me exactly what she did want.

The sounds of soldiers going through morning drills below distracted me for a moment, leading to a lull in our talks.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“The specifics of this discussion should be tabled until later. I was scheduled to meet with my uncle after I had completed my rounds of the walls, and finished reading my letters. This discussion can be put off until then. Klaus Papenheim’s advice on the matter will prove invaluable.”

“Could you give me an example?”

“Would you be willing to assist the army in a supporting capacity?”

“So…logistics then?” I hazarded.

“Defensive workings such as the barriers you deployed over Liesse or even motivating allies and demotivating enemies would provide a significant military advantage. Until my position is solidified, it is my primary interest to see you involved with the army for now in some manner or another. Having you do so would help to court the attention of the House of Light in a similar capacity.”

I felt like she still didn’t quite grasp what I could do for her, but that was the smaller issue and I could correct it later. In all of this, I still didn’t understand what she wanted out of that alliance.

“Why do you want their help?”

“Their assistance will be pivotal for restructuring the Principate in the years following the end of the war. It would also be of great benefit if you were prepared to negotiate with the clergy directly, once you have been properly schooled on the correct procedures.”

That… was a non answer.

“What other duties do you want from me?”

“As mentioned before, it is my intention to found an order of wizards in the aftermath of the civil war. The assistance of someone such as yourself in establishing such a centre of learning would be invaluable.”

Right… This misconception about my role as a wizard was actively unhelpful now.

“I’m not a sorcerer,” I stated bluntly. “Think of me as being closer to one of the Fae, only aligned with Above. I have learned some magical theory, so I can teach it. But you would be better served by finding actual teachers for that.”

I wondered how much I should trust her with. Being sealed in wards again scared me. But if I trusted Cordelia enough to allow that, and she proved worthy of the trust, we could perform controlled experiments.

Deliberately allow wizards that I trusted to seal me off, then see if I could find a way out.

The idea left me feeling uncomfortable.

But if I ever fought the Warlock again, I would need to prepare.

“It is expected that you are not a magical practitioner,” her lips twitched upwards for a moment, before the mask went back down. “Every wizard who was permitted to examine you during your convalescence exhibited a great deal of interest in working alongside you. It is my wish to harness that interest.”

That… was worded politely, but sounded to me like a veiled way of saying people wanted to examine me like some sort of exotic creature. I wasn’t going to call her out about it, but the idea of being looked at under a microscope wasn’t very appealing.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Then, for now, simply assistance with ending the civil war.”

It made me uneasy how everything she planned involving me was intended to play out so far ahead. It meant that I couldn’t put together a good picture of what she wanted with only the pieces I had. I had enough of an idea to know that we at least sat on the same side of the board, but that was about it. For now, my guess was that she wanted to pull together many factions and work on social reforms. I wasn’t necessarily against anything she had proposed, so I was willing to consider her offer.

“I have three main goals at the moment. Short term, medium term, long term. In the short term, I want to find out what happened to my friend. In the medium term, I want help arranging a journey into the Chain of Hunger. The hardest goal is the long term one. I want to make the world a place with no villains. If you are willing to help with the first two, and at least make inroads on the third, then we can discuss terms. I don’t expect the third problem to be solved immediately, but I want to at least see some progress made. I’m also not willing to go against my conscience. So long as you don’t ask me to, we have room to negotiate.”

“Then let us continue this discussion indoors later, with the added input of Klaus.”

I followed behind her as she finished her walks, then waited while she perused her letters. Afterwards, we headed indoors. If I had known exactly what I was involving myself in when it came to scheming with Cordelia, I may have chosen to run away instead.