King Aldric sat upon an ornate throne, dressed in a resplendent robe of deep crimson and the ever-present gold, looming above the supplicants. Soft light rolled from the five steps that elevated him, enormous crystals meant to empower the king as necessary. Be it to heal the blind, or defend himself. Aldric''s salt-and-pepper beard was meticulously groomed, and his piercing eyes, a striking shade of emerald, held an air of authority and wisdom. He glared down at Liam, regal countenance twisted into a grimace of disbelief mingling with vicious annoyance. Brow furrowed, fingers clenching the armrests of his throne.


    Liam bowed, bending at the waist to lower himself as far as he could manage. Nyota curtseyed deeply at his side, her flexible limbs easily putting him to shame. Arlet knelt with one knee, raising a fist over his heart and bowing his head in respect for the king. Rhendal removed his hat and placed it over his heart, bowing lightly whilst leaning heavily on his staff.


    “Rise, I will hear the names of those who have made a mockery of my court.” Said the king.


    A mockery? Hey! Those bishops started this! Well… okay… I guess we broke the windows… And made a scene in the courtyard… But the rest was the bishops! Thought Liam, biting down his protests.


    King Aldric held the fate of Greenwood in his palms. A simple thumbs up could save the people entrusted to Liam, while the inverse could see him buried under a wave of knights. He could slay a hundred, but then what? Out of magic with ten thousand more men at Aldric''s command. Nyota would be vivisected first, then Rhendal or Arlet, and finally Liam himself. This combat required intelligence not violence, and Liam had already drained the only mental skill he possessed.


    “Thank you for permitting us to speak your Majesty. My name is Baron William Ethan Green, lord of Greenwood. I have come to present my household to the court, and announce the awakening of my magic, as the law requires of me.” Said Liam, rising from his bow.


    “Proceed.” Said King Aldric tersely.


    “Let me present my champions, this knight is the level ten champion Arlet, my first and most loyal hero. Behind me is sage Rhendal, a Master from the college of fire who has educated me on the ways of magic. Without his peerless aid I would be the corpse of a dud. He serves as my advisor, tutor, as well as my champion of fire and dark affinities.” He said, pausing after the introduction.


    Green’s memories entered his mind, informing him that court etiquette required testimony from those who were present to confirm a champion’s standing. One more breach of etiquette he''d glossed over, and a dire insult if he failed to produce.


    Crap! I forgot witnesses! Wait, no, Rhendal arranged this meeting, he should have most of that covered already. Calm down Liam, remember to breathe. You’ve been laying the groundwork for this day for weeks. Trust your friends...


    No, they''re more than friends. This is my family now.


    Several nobles began to mutter as Rhendal’s virtues were extolled, whispering evil rumors of dark affinity mages. How their affinity corrupted their very souls. Liam ignored the fools, the only opinion he cared to hear was that of the king. Whose enormous wolf-headed champion stepped forward.


    The King’s own Blade…


    A knight Baron Green had taken great lengths to avoid.


    "Who has witnessed your champion''s worth?" Asked King Aldric, sounding bored. As if he expected all Barons to overstate their worth boldly only to crumple like unprepared fools in front of him.


    “Sire, Champion Arlet is known to me. He is indeed a level ten champion, trained and tested in our own academy of war. I once offered him a position at your side as my second.” Growled the man, earning a surprised eyebrow from the king.


    An effervescent memory tingled Liam’s cerebellum, whispering of Arlet dueling the King’s blade at the academy of war, a fight his champion had soundly lost. “Humanity cannot compete with a Lycanthrope. But you''ve come the closest.” is what the King’s Blade had said to Arlet all those years ago.


    Soren, and three royal magicians rose from their bows, glancing to the king’s right before they spoke. An older man nodded to them, wearing the robes of the college''s headmaster.


    I wonder how powerful one has to be in order to take charge of the royal college of magic. The most prestigious and sought after position for magi across the continent? Could he be an ally? Are they initiating some kind of coup like the bishops had?


    “We bear witness of Sage Rhendal’s achievements. He was once a master of our college, serving the kingdom for many years. Before his retirement Rhendal was considered the highest ranking master of dark affinity to ever grace our college. Consequently we still use the textbooks he wrote, as they have no equal within the kingdom, maybe the world. He alone has made it possible to hunt the darkness with their own powers. We consider it a privilege to honour our former professor. As every royal mage in your service owes their command of the dark affinity to his mentorship.” Said Soren.


    “Master Soren. What do you mean when you say every royal mage?” Asked the king, his face softening a hair.


    “Your majesty. I mean that every mage who uses fire or darkness was at some point tutored or instructed by master Rhendal’s wisdom. Without exception we have memories of leveling up in his presence, be it during lectures or practical exercises. His achievements are so great that when I was a much younger man there was a petition to create the position of Grandmaster Shadow, a position only Rhendal was qualified to fill.” Orated Soren.


    King Aldric’s brow raised in surprise at one of his own royal magicians speaking so highly of a man he knew so little of.


    “Rhendal, why am I hearing of your accomplishments only now? And from none others than the men I entrust with my very life! Your skill could have been of great service to my kingdom.” Demanded the king.


    Liam swallowed, hoping Rhendal wouldn’t answer with his natural snark.


    “You do my memory a great honour, your majesty, but I am too old to serve any longer. T’will not be long before I am only a memory. For my bones are creaking their way into my eighty ninth year. Were it not for the rise of two Lightning Lords, I would be walking with Taloc now. But it seems that God wills me to linger a little longer for their sakes. My powers began to wane decades ago. There is a truth of life, that Hades reaps us all. We must put aside our pride and be overtaken. I have planted many virtuous sprouts in the college, Soren is but one pupil who will overshadow me.” Answered Rhendal, intentionally aiming his hat at Liam, and his staff in Nyota’s direction.


    The king’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his crown at the sage’s age, and Liam began to wonder what the average lifespan for a noble was. If Green’s memories were accurate, they offered an approximate answer of fifty being ancient, potentially great grandparent age. Should a noble attain the age of seventy the king was expected to send investigators who could record their life and wisdom. Eighty was simply not a number people lived to. For Rhendal to be eighty eight –almost ninety– strained belief, igniting new whispers of dark arts among the courtiers. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    “My Father lived to be seventy two… did you know him?” King Aldric asked.


    “Only in passing sire, I acted as an advisor to Grandmaster Harrington before Grandmaster Renosipe.”


    “A shadow sage who only seems to stand in other’s shadows. How fitting.” Said the king, allowing the sycophants time to chuckle before continuing, “How do you think he achieved that peerless age?” Inquired King Aldric.


    Liam did not like the question, or the tone it was asked in. Any answer could be easily twisted to give the king a cassius belli, a justification for violence.


    “I need not think, for I protested his methods as they were implemented, though in the end I was overruled and my concerns proved to be overly cautious. Your majesty.” Offered Rhendal, meeting the King’s eye with his own.


    “And what methods were those?” Grilled the king, attempting to goad Rhendal into a slip of the tongue.


    “I gave my word to your father that I would not speak of them. For fear that others might indulge themselves in a vain pursuit of expanding their own life at the expense of others.” Countered Rhendal, parrying the jab.


    “Yet you claim the age of eighty nine. None in my kingdom can attest to that. How have you achieved such a long life.” Said King Aldic, pressing Rhendal once more.


    “Ha, I would have died many years ago, had Taloc not demanded my service. By all measures, I''m dead thrice over. But God won''t accept me into the afterlife just yet." Said Rhendal, shaking his head softly. "Baron Green has granted me a comfortable stipend and an isolated tower. One of the ancient obsidian structures from the age of the dead god’s dominion. I live alone, and busy myself by pondering the mysteries of magic. It is a quiet life, peaceful. One with no need or opportunity to implement your father’s methods.” Said Rhendal.


    King Aldric smiled, pleased with Rhendal’s evasions. Satisfied with the sage’s confident answers he looked towards the only member of Liam’s party that had remained anonymous. His eyes looked her up and down, the corners of his mouth falling several millimeters at her simple dress and he openly blinked when his eyes found her bare neck. For some reason, Liam was sure it was not because of how cute Nyota looked.


    “Therun Taloc announced your presence himself. Which is why I have permitted you this far, but know this,” said the king, voice lowering to a threatening tone.


    “You have brought violence and chaos to my court, then flaunted treason before me. I should have you all executed. Know this, if t''were not for my own men vouching your purpose, you would be dead.” Said King Aldric, leveling a finger at Nyota’s neck.


    I should kill him. Thought Liam.


    No! Calm down Liam. He is just putting on a show for the court. Can''t have uppity barons repeating what a Lightning Lord does. You can salvage this. Be nice, and mind your manners.


    “Your majesty, I am truly sorry for the chaos we have caused within your court. No offense was intended or desired. I pray you may forgive us for these misunderstandings given the circumstances. I present the Lady Nyota. My champion of healing because that is how we met, my champion of thunder, for she echoes my own soul with her lightning. And lastly, she is my champion of the heart.” Liam swallowed, suddenly nervous in front of the king.


    Open laughter burst out amongst the court, not in humor, but in schadenfreude. Liam’s earnest proclamation was too scandalous to bear. While the words would have been an exquisite romantic gesture in private, they were naive beyond measure in the current environment. A champion of the heart was not something the court could recognize. Many nobles assumed Liam was joking, attempting to lighten the mood after the sudden violence from a few moments earlier.


    His majesty was quiet for a long moment, pondering Liam’s words with a bit too much intensity.


    “The Heart… Don’t you mean champion of your heart?” Asked the king slowly.


    “Ah, well yes, your majesty.” Stammered Liam, struggling to speak as his ears burned.


    “My kingdom has not seen a new threefold in over a decade. I require witnesses to speak of her strength before I will recognize your claim.”


    “Lady Nyota’s standing is not why I came-”


    “I will hear of your champion first or I will not hear from you at all.” Interrupted King Aldric. His voice cold as steel.


    Liam ground his teeth, shutting his mouth and bowing to keep from snapping back. This was the king, the man who could save his people. Keep your eye on the prize Liam. Don’t get snippy. You need this man to save your dumb ass… –Yes, that means Jenkins–


    “Did a cat catch your tongue?” Probed the king.


    A few awkward chuckles echoed through the court, deflected by columns and quieted by open windows. Most nobles were too lost in thought over Liam’s execution of the Archbishops to laugh at a malicious quip; but a few were sycophantic enough to laugh loudly. Nyota’s eyes narrowed, pupils dilating, ears flicking backwards. Angry fear evident in her manner. Liam cleared his throat, attempting to catch her eye. She ignored him, rising from her curtsey to meet the king’s gaze.


    “A king should have more decorum.” She said, admonishing the King.


    If a bolt of lightning had struck every attendee of the court at that instant, it would have been a less shocking experience. Royal knights spared fearful glances for their king and the sadists revealed themselves with their eager stares, watching for the instant when King Aldric would surely punish these upstarts. Nyota adjusted the Teutonic Codex so it remained under one arm, adjusting her grip several more times than necessary.


    “Watch captain Gaius Borgia, his majesty calls for your report.” Ordered Nyota.


    Her imperious tone stunned Liam, making him bite his tongue.


    Crraaapppp! When I said not to apologize to anyone this is not what I meant!


    Nyota''s eyes never left the king’s, silently daring him to look away first. To Liam’s unfathomable relief, Gaius Borgia broke the stalemate, demonstrating why he had risen to his station. Beneath his many bribes, there was a cunning man, albeit too ambitious. So similar to Blackwood, overcompetent for where he was and channeling that spare time into evil ends. He saluted the king by snapping to attention, waiting until he received a nod, then stoically offered his report.


    “Lady Nyota is indeed a Lightning Lord, she demonstrated her power shortly after her arrival on the teleportation stone, ahem, she is the cause of your shattered windows and our delay. Since her display blinded my knights. We had to wait for her to heal my knights and mages.” Said Captain Borgia.


    A cough escaped the headmaster, who stepped forward, confusion tasting anger as he shouted. “A lightning cat? What an outrageous claim! No such thing has ever existed, not even when Taloc walked among us. I require more evidence of such a claim! Rhendal! Explain yourself.”


    He was balding and what little hair remained was mostly gray, only hinting at the brown it had once been. Red robes cloaked his figure, adorned with yellow and orange flames, outlined with a dizzying array of embroidered sigils and icons. Precious metals were woven into his clothing, giving his attire a frightfully gaudy aftertaste. So similar to his words.


    This court feels more like a circus sometimes. But why is Green’s memory telling me those tacky flame robes have meaning?


    “Oh, there you are Aitercul. I did write ahead concerning their… unusual affinity did I not?” Rhendal said.


    “Their affinity? It isn’t just her?” Said the Grandmaster of Fire, narrowing his eyes at his old colleague.


    “Indeed! Lord Liam has the same impossible affinity! I believe there was an… erm… Interaction of sorts, that mingled her healing with his lightning. I would have preferred to sing her praises in private first, but my lord works me to the bone.” Said Rhendal with a cheeky grin.


    “Preposterous!” Snapped Renosipe.


    “Ask any of your mages who saw us arrive.” Said Rhendal with a glint in his eye.


    The grandmaster narrowed his eyes. Clearly doubtful of the sage’s words. A knight coughed, reminding him where he was.


    “Soren! Report this instant.” Shouted the Grandmaster, returning to his senses.


    “Master Rhendal speaks the truth Grandmaster! The lady Nyota was the source of lightning, its brilliance blinded us, burning our eyes with Heaven’s Wrath. Then she healed us! I was the first to be healed, and witnessed her affinities with my own eyes. Lord Liam performed the same healing without any artefact!” Exclaimed Soren.


    “She healed all of you? There is no dispute from any of you?” Stammered the open-mouthed grandmaster.


    “Yes, with Lord Liam’s aid and permission.” Repeated Soren.


    “Rhendal… I thought your days of causing me trouble were finished when you retired all those years ago. Now you stand before me, presenting the impossible!” Cried Renosipe, rubbing his temples with one hand.