《The Book of Lost Wisdom》


 Chapter 1 - Prince Erics Choice

    Fourth day of Learning 1142 ¡ª Battle Song Eve


    Dahr had always understood that you had to look up to see stars. Yet as he gazed down into the night from atop Rish¡¯s city walls, the stars waited, an endless procession hovering on a blanket of grass, stretching as far as the eye could see.


    He looked away from the spectacle on the plains below to Prince Eric, who stood beside him.


    ¡°What are they?¡± he asked, only a hint of a lilt teasing the edge of his words.


    Dahr had been born in Death''s Doorstep, which was quite far from the Kingdom of Twyl where he now resided. He had become a palace servant after the untimely death of his mother, just over two years earlier. Dahr had only recently become Prince Eric¡¯s personal servant and he loved it, not only because it got him out of some of the more menial chores he¡¯d been expected to do in the palace kitchen, but also because Prince Eric seemed to have infinite patience for his endless questions.


    ¡°You¡¯re seeing the enemy¡¯s campfires. Their army wishes to conquer us but has neither the skill nor artifice to breech our walls. There are ever more of them than there are of us, but they can never win for they are inferior.¡±


    Dahr glanced from Prince Eric to a pair of guards in unfamiliar armor walking past. Mostly the guards ignored them, for few dared tell the prince where he could and couldn¡¯t go. Even Captain Jericho, who was in charge of the city¡¯s defenses, had smiled and winked when he''d seen them. Dahr goggled at the masses below.


    ¡°What makes them inferior?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°Oh, they¡¯re not inferior. It¡¯s just what we¡¯re supposed to say about them today. They¡¯re us. Well no, they¡¯re me, not you. Your people had nothing to do with this.¡±


    A stiff breeze ruffled Dahr¡¯s black hair. He frowned at the prince, green eyes twinkling in the torchlight. ¡°What are you even talking about?¡±


    The prince smirked, sandy hair too short to be much affected by the breeze, blue eyes surveying the younger boy in amusement. Dahr realized the prince was deliberately trying to confuse him. Prince Eric chuckled at Dahr¡¯s scowl. As a servant, Dahr knew he should probably not look at a royal that way, but at the moment he didn¡¯t care. Prince Eric could be so annoying at times. At any rate, it seemed to have worked, because the prince finally gave him a straight answer.


    ¡°More than a hundred years ago, my people came to the city of Rish. That¡¯s us down there. They¡¯re not really soldiers, just people pretending. Celebrating our victory. The attitude of my people being inferior is what the people living here said before we took the city. This is Battle Song Eve, the anniversary of the night before the original battle. And it¡¯s why the guards are wearing this ridiculous armor. It¡¯s the armor of those that stood against us during that long ago engagement.¡±


    Dahr¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You were at war?¡±


    ¡°We were. The short version is that King Herrold of the Kingdom of Lethe marched into Andara and tried to claim some of its land as his own. He soon learned the error of his ways. Andara sent a huge army under command of the great warrior Mavros, who not only defeated Lethe¡¯s forces in Andara, but chased them all the way back to the city of Rish, which was the capital of Lethe.


    ¡°After Mavros took the city, he declared himself king, and renamed the kingdom Twyl. A lot of people wondered at that, because Andarans don¡¯t own land or live in palaces, but King Mavros had a point to make. He felt he could be more valuable to Andara by staying in Rish and reminding people what happened to kingdoms that decided Andara was an easy target.


    ¡°Battle Song is the annual celebration of King Mavros¡¯ victory. It¡¯s meant to remind us.¡±


    ¡°Remind us of what?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°To never underestimate our enemies. It¡¯s how Empires fall.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s an Empire?¡±


    ¡°No idea. Not really. Maybe like a really big kingdom? There aren¡¯t any empires anymore, but I don¡¯t know why.¡±


    Dahr looked disappointed. ¡°Oh.¡±


    Dahr was a couple of years younger than the prince, who seemed quite grown up at sixteen. And he knew all sorts of stuff, which he was happy to share with Dahr. Dahr knew the prince used his knowledge to show off but didn¡¯t care. He liked learning, even if it came at the price of appearing foolish. Dahr went everywhere with the prince, which is how he had ended up on the city¡¯s walls, a place he¡¯d never have been allowed to go on his own. Prince Eric treated Dahr like a younger brother, and the two had become inseparable.


    Dahr turned his attention back to the ground and wondered how many fires there had been a hundred years earlier. It didn¡¯t seem likely that anyone could have counted them. He tried counting himself, when a hand closed around his arm.


    ¡°There you are, ya scoundrels. You¡¯re not supposed to be up here.¡±


    Dahr gulped. He looked up at Maynor, the captain of the guard, one of the few who wasn¡¯t scared of the prince, or anything else for that matter. He was a terrifying sight, a huge man with a full beard and mustache, brown eyes that always squinted suspiciously, at least when they looked at Dahr, and a head full of unruly brown hair that didn¡¯t dare turn completely gray. Eric didn¡¯t have quite the same fear of him that Dahr did.


    ¡°Like you never slipped your guard when you were young,¡± said Prince Eric.


    The grizzled veteran frowned. ¡°I was never young. Anyway, you need to come with me. His Highness awaits your presence in the throne room.¡±


    That got Eric¡¯s attention. Eric wasn¡¯t scared of Maynor, but Dahr knew he loved and respected his father and would never keep him waiting. The captain of the guard released Dahr and led the two boys toward the ground, where a royal coach waited. Dahr tried to keep the prince between himself and the captain as they made their way downstairs. The captain half stumbled on one of the steps.


    ¡°Blast this Lethen armor. I don¡¯t know how anyone wore it. This is what you get when you design armor for looks instead of functionality. Every time I take a step, the top of the leg armor sticks on the bottom of my breast plate.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only for the day,¡± said the prince, clearly amused at Maynor¡¯s discomfort.


    ¡°They say Lethe lost the war because they underestimated us, but the real reason is that they couldn¡¯t defend themselves while wearing this crap.¡±


    Dahr continued to follow, eyes on his feet, trying to hide his smile. Maynor was scary enough when he wasn¡¯t annoyed. The last thing he wanted was to give the irate captain another reason to notice him.


    *


    In the throne room, King Terrence awaited the arrival of his son. He sat on his throne, a modest affair made of intricately carved white oak, just big enough to give the appearance of a ruler¡¯s seat without being ostentatious. Other rulers may have required something larger or more pretentious. Terrence felt that if he couldn¡¯t rule through wisdom and knowledge, he didn¡¯t deserve to rule at all. His decisions would define his reign, not the size of his seat.


    Terrence¡¯s body and presence both seemed too big for the throne. He was thirty-five, with shoulder length brown hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. He had the body of a soldier, because he was a soldier, like his father before him. He dressed in the house colors green and gold, which matched both his eyes and the flecks in them respectively.


    The room was as understated as the throne itself, except for the tapestries hanging on the walls, which depicted battles and conquests of years past. A proud warrior¡¯s singular concession to the glory of his house. High on the east wall, stained glass windows overlooked the throne room like soldiers standing watch. They had been on duty since the palace¡¯s original construction. During the morning hours, they showered the room with much-needed color, but after dusk, as it was now, they were dour reminders of a time past.


    They had been there for the sacking of Rish, more than a century ago. Before that, they had born witness to the dark reign of King Herrold of Lethe and his blood court. Terrence considered them only briefly before forcing that particular darkness from his mind. The world was a brighter place than it had been, and this wasn''t the time to dwell on the grim circumstances of the past. This was Eric¡¯s transition day, the day his son would choose the god he served for the rest of his life. Should that god accept Eric¡¯s offer of service, he would be given a class and skills, allowing him to level and become more powerful.


    He wondered what class his son would be granted. That Eric might fail the trials he would face today had never entered Terrence¡¯s mind. He had no doubt his son was worthy, nor did he doubt that his son would choose to serve Sheba. Warrior, Soldier and Hunter were the most common classes granted by the goddess of combat, but there were others, less common: Protector, Guardian, Defender, Berserker, Sword Master, Archer¡ªthe list went on and on. Terrence whispered a prayer to Sheba that his son would get a class worthy of the man he knew him to be. The man he would become today when he completed his transition. The most important day of his young life, and he was late for it.


    His son had absconded to the wall to see the fires, as he did most years, causing a delay that would have annoyed the king had it been any other day. But Battle Song had always been Eric¡¯s favorite holiday, and this was the day he would become an adult. Let him have what little freedom he could before the mantle of manhood settled on his shoulders.


    His wife, Treya, sat beside him, her throne both darker and somewhat smaller than the king¡¯s, though just as intricate. She looked like the queen she was. Hair brown like his, worn on her head like the crown she almost never wore. Despite that, she always looked regal to him. Her eyes tended to change with both the light and what she was wearing. Today she wore a sea green gown, and her eyes were like storm clouds reflecting that sea. His family couldn¡¯t have chosen a better match, and he was well pleased with his wife most of the time, but not particularly at this moment.


    ¡°It¡¯s time, Terrence. He¡¯s been here almost two years already. You can¡¯t keep putting it off.¡±


    ¡°The fact is, I can. I¡¯m the king. Who¡¯s going to make me do it if I don¡¯t want to?¡±


    ¡°You mean besides me? Look, the boy has been here for so long already, it would be ridiculous for us not to adopt him.¡±


    ¡°Why rock the boat, Trey? Just acknowledging him could put him in danger.¡±


    ¡°We can adopt him without acknowledging him. There¡¯s precedent enough for that. There¡¯s no reason for the boy to go through life as a servant. And you promised his mother. My husband is not a liar.¡±


    King Terrence dropped his head. ¡°No. He¡¯s an adulterer.¡±


    King Terrence himself had traveled to retrieve Dahr, making a show of stopping at a number of his allies along the way. He hadn¡¯t wanted to make his final destination obvious. And when he¡¯d arrived, she was there, a woman who had borne one of his sons. A woman he remembered fondly. Who had helped him get through a difficult time...but not the same woman. Much thinner. Much older looking. Coughing up spots of blood. Eyes distant with rheum. His healer had examined her, but the king knew the prognosis before he heard it.


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    Could she have been saved if he¡¯d ridden straight to her instead of taking the meandering path he did? Probably not, but maybe. Most likely he had waited too long to leave in the first place, putting off the uncomfortable encounter as long as he could. Too late to save her. He had promised her that he would care for their son and raise him. The look of gratitude in her dying eyes haunted him to this day. A gratitude as misplaced as the pride that had prevented him from coming soon enough to save her.


    ¡°So many regrets.¡±


    He didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d whispered those words loud enough for Treya to hear. She responded not to his inner turmoil, but to his previous confession of adultery.


    ¡°You were young and at war. Far away, with almost no contact. Did you think I sat alone in my rooms every night in the year you were away? Do you think I expected you to remain true to me when every day might have been your last?¡±


    They had been through this conversation or variations on it before. No matter his wife¡¯s insistence that what he¡¯d done was forgivable, Terrence had never forgiven himself. And it was one thing for his wife to know, indeed he¡¯d never kept it from her, not even in the beginning.


    ¡°Everyone will know.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯ll find out what? Their king is human? Oh the horrors. Anyway, do you think no one suspects?¡±


    King Terrence twisted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position to compensate for how he felt. ¡°Suspecting is not the same thing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not. But you might be underestimating the degree of certainty out there. People may not be sure but it doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t believe it. When it comes out, it will be a confirmation, nothing more. Beyond that, it won¡¯t matter to them. Those that will judge have likely judged you already. Most won¡¯t. You¡¯re not the first noble to be in this situation, after all. The only one who¡¯ll care is you and Eric...well and Dahr. Speaking of which...hello boys. What trouble have you been getting into?¡±


    Eric knelt briefly, which he only did when they were in the throne room, then got up without waiting and ran toward the throne. Dahr remained kneeling until the queen surreptitiously motioned for him to rise.


    ¡°We were on the city wall. I think there are more fires this year than last. Do you think people like sitting outside all night?¡±


    The king chuckled. ¡°Do they enjoy sitting around a fire, eating and drinking before their full day off tomorrow, is that the question? I think they can probably deal with it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s worse when it rains,¡± the queen chimed in. ¡°Tonight is beautiful though.¡±


    ¡°Beautiful as it may be, there¡¯s other work tonight,¡± the king said. ¡°It¡¯s time to make a choice, Eric.¡±


    Eric nodded solemnly. He knew tonight was the night of transition and he would have to choose a god to serve. His family had always served Sheba, but tonight was his choice. Whoever he chose would define his future.


    ¡°It was ever going to be Sheba. It¡¯s tradition.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about tradition,¡± said his mother. ¡°Don¡¯t choose the way of the warrior if you feel more affinity for another path. There¡¯s no shame in choosing another.¡±


    ¡°No, mother, it¡¯s okay. I choose to pledge myself to Sheba.¡±


    His father smiled proudly, even though he knew what his son would say. Then, to everyone¡¯s surprise, Dahr spoke.


    ¡°Will I be able to pledge myself to Sheba too one day?¡±


    The king and queen shared a glance, but it was the queen who answered. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±


    Eric looked both confused and hopeful. He knew only nobles got to choose the gods they wished to pledge themselves to. The lower classes could worship whoever they wanted, of course, but that was quite different from transitioning in a temple, directly communing with the deity of your choice. Dahr undoubtedly knew this as well. The king looked sternly at his wife, but when he turned his gaze on the boys, the expression was gone. He cleared his throat.


    ¡°Yes, well I was going to leave this announcement till later, as I didn¡¯t want to take away from Eric¡¯s transition day, but shortly we¡¯ll be adopting you officially, Dahr. You¡¯ll be a servant no more. You¡¯ll be a member of the royal family.¡±


    Dahr¡¯s jaw dropped in disbelief, but Eric looked elated. He ran to the throne, throwing himself at his father. Terrence caught the boy in a hug and wondered how he¡¯d feel when he learned the truth. He was a bit annoyed at his wife for forcing that decision now, but he¡¯d deal with her later. Who was he kidding? Not only did she have as much right to make that choice as he, but he wasn¡¯t the injured party in any of this. Whatever came of it, he was the only one in the room who wasn¡¯t innocent. He¡¯d deal with whatever consequences he had to. It was what kings did, at least the good ones.


    The double doors opened again, and Veloran, high priest of Sheba for the city of Rish, entered. Like many of Sheba¡¯s priests, Veloran used to be a soldier. He was bald now and clean-shaven, but even at his great age, his muscled body strode with purpose and would have looked equally at home in full armor on a battlefield. Instead he wore the black and silver fighting robe of his goddess. He carried no weapon, but walked as if he were used to balancing the weight of a sword on his hip.


    He knelt before the throne and was immediately instructed to rise by the king, who stood, walked down the single step, and crossed to where his son was standing. ¡°Are you ready?¡±


    Eric nodded, staring at the priest intently. Veloran moved his gaze from the king to the prince, and their eyes met, but he didn¡¯t speak. He was waiting for Prince Eric to state his decision.


    ¡°I choose Sheba to guide me on the path of the warrior on this fourth day of the month of Learning, the anniversary of King Mavros¡¯ remarkable victory over the forces of Lethe. Sheba grant me his strength, wisdom and courage so that I may succeed. Not for my own glory, but to honor my house and my parents, who have both served you well. I embark on this journey with my eyes and heart open. Wherever the path of the warrior leads I shall follow till the end of my days.¡±


    The high priest gave a single approving nod, whirled, and marched out the door. Eric followed quickly, without looking back. Dahr looked like he was about to follow, but the king¡¯s voice rang out.


    ¡°No, Dahr, not you. You shall remain here with us...we¡¯ll wait together.¡±


    Dahr turned to look at the king and queen, and nodded once. Terrence thought he wanted to ask a question, but instead the boy fidgeted nervously and turned to stare at the now closed throne room doors.


    *


    Outside the palace, a group of a dozen priests and priestesses, all wearing the black and silver robes of their order, waited for the prince and the high priest. Together they moved through the city of Rish. It was approaching midnight, but Prince Eric couldn¡¯t have been safer even if he had been accompanied by a contingent of palace guards. Only a fool would attack priests and priestesses of Sheba.


    Eric followed them proudly, aware that when he left Sheba¡¯s Temple, he¡¯d be a man. He wondered if he would feel any different. He considered his father¡¯s announcement about adopting Dahr. His father had been worried about taking away from Eric¡¯s transition day. Eric couldn¡¯t understand it. Adopting Dahr would be the perfect gift. He had no brother or sister, and now he would. How could that take away from anything?


    Dahr was his closest friend, would always be his closest friend. Nothing would ever come between them. He knew this with the same certainty that he knew that choosing the path of the warrior was the only choice open to him. Admittedly, he¡¯d had a few crazy moments where he¡¯d tried on other paths in his mind, like walking into a hattery and putting on a bunch of funny hats, but you¡¯d never buy one. There was always that one hat that seemed to fit perfectly. You knew it as soon as you put it on. That was the path of Sheba¨C the path of the warrior.


    The palace was well and truly behind them now, and the streets in the Temple District, normally deserted at this hour, were busy with revelers. Prince Eric frowned at the number of drunk, rowdy, disrespectful people. He glanced worriedly at the priests, but none of them seemed to notice or care. As they moved, the crowd parted before them and closed behind them as if by magic. The temples were near the palace, so the entire walk had only taken about fifteen minutes.


    Set back from the thoroughfare were buildings in all different colors and architectural styles, each representing a different god. Large temples represented more popular gods like Sheba, Iorana, Mitra and Sylinar. Lesser gods had smaller temples, set further back, but for all that, most were detailed works of art. Most, but not the Temple of Sheba.


    The Temple of Sheba was a large structure without much adornment. White, simple, well-constructed but not as ostentatious as many of the others or even some of the guild buildings, which were located further away from the palace. A statue of Sheba in front of the structure portrayed the goddess as a beautiful human woman, holding a bow, sword on her hip, accompanied by a white wolf. This was a standard representation of the goddess, though of course, she could appear as anything she wanted. Few folk were ever privileged enough to see one of the gods in any form, but it wasn¡¯t completely unheard of.


    His father had once told Eric that one of his dearest wishes was to be visited by Sheba in person. Eric believed it would happen one day. After all, his father was not only a king, but a just and fair king. He¡¯d heard it said again and again, by rich and poor people alike. It occurred to him few would insult the king in front of him, but he still believed most people did think his father was honorable.


    The priests ushered him inside, but not into the main worship area. Instead he was led down a side corridor on the left that he¡¯d noticed on earlier visits to the temple, though he¡¯d never seen anyone take. The corridor was lined with small rooms that contained sleeping mats.


    ¡°This is where hunters and injured can stay if they have nowhere else to go,¡± said Veloran. ¡°There is no charge to use these rooms. They are free to anyone. You do not have to worry about your safety while you¡¯re sleeping, since we will stay to guard you. You will take one of the furthest rooms from the entrance.¡±


    The corridor ended with open doors on either side. The rooms they led to were identical, containing nothing more than a sleeping mat and a low table beside it. The rooms were clean if not comfortable. It didn¡¯t trouble Prince Eric. He¡¯d gone hunting with his father innumerable times and his father had drilled into him how privileged he was, and how most people live in much worse conditions. Prince Eric was taught to appreciate what his position gave him, and understood the responsibility that went with it. Lying on this bed for a night in the Temple of Sheba was not a hardship...it was an honor.


    Eric was about to enter, but the high priest stopped him and held out a flask of amber liquid. Within, wisps of silver drifted through it, as if they were involved in some slow, ritual dance. Eric took the flask, unable to take his eyes from the shifting patterns.


    ¡°Drink the entire elixir and immediately lie down on the bed. You will sleep and you will dream and you will be guided on a journey into the Other Realm. There, you will be gifted your class should the goddess accept your service, at which time you will receive the blessing of your first skills. Do you have any questions?¡±


    He shifted his gaze from the flask to the High Priest. ¡°No, thank you. And thank you for escorting me here tonight. You honor me.¡±


    The high priest smiled. ¡°Your father has raised you well, but I had never doubted he would. Drink...and may Sheba be with you.¡±


    Eric unstoppered the flask, and took a hesitant sip, then downed the whole thing at once. It tasted a bit like he¡¯d imagine a sunlit sky to taste. It was and wasn¡¯t like rain, was and wasn¡¯t like some sort of mild fruit juice, was and wasn¡¯t like a lazy summer afternoon on the shores of an icy lake. The taste of it teased his mind. He was going to ask if he was permitted to know what was in it, when he felt it begin to affect him. Scared he would lose his balance, he scrambled to the mat and immediately lay down, fully clothed. In only minutes he was asleep.


    *


    He awoke on a grassy field, dressed the same way he¡¯d been in the waking world¨C loose cotton shirt, leather vest, thick wool pants, leather boots. Traveling clothes, though fine ones to be sure. He had no weapons, nor anything else with him, but there was a solid wooden chest bound by iron sitting on the grass next to him. In other circumstances he might have been reluctant to look inside, but this was his dream...his transition. He had no doubt the chest was meant for him.


    At his touch, the chest swung open of its own accord. Inside was a straight bladed, double-edged sword of better than average quality. A soldier¡¯s weapon. He went to take it out, but it shimmered and changed to a bow, then a hammer, then a mace. He stopped.


    Would removing a specific weapon make some kind of choice for him? If so, what should he pick? Every time he moved his hand to the chest, the weapons cycled. It always reset to a sword when he pulled his hand back.


    Why did it keep changing when he tried to take it?


    There was a bush behind him now, which rustled. He didn¡¯t think it had been there when he¡¯d awakened. He turned, ready to grab the weapon in the chest while waiting to see what emerged.


    Prince Eric had prepared himself for the unexpected, but not quite this unexpected.


    ¡°Hey!¡± said Dahr, apparently happy to see him. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    *


    The Other Realm is a place of dreams, magic, gods, demons and other less well-known beings that even the most educated scholars have little knowledge of. It is the world beneath the world, whose existence explains so much of what might be called fate. Only probabilities exist in the Other Realm¨C infinite probabilities.


    The connection between the two boys might have been inferred by observation in the real world, but in the Other Realm that connection was tangible. Tangible enough for the denizens of the aether to feel its presence, and strong enough to attract the attention of Telisian.


    Telisian wasn¡¯t a god, nor was it not a god. It wasn¡¯t a demon, nor was it not a demon. Not even the oldest of the gods could remember a time before its arrival in the Other Realm. What the gods did know was that it was as powerful as it was mysterious.


    As it wasn¡¯t a god, Telisian didn¡¯t have a temple. As such, no mortal revered it or even knew of its existence. Telisian had never before been in a position to assign a class to a mortal. Prince Eric had chosen the path of the warrior, and Sheba would guide his destiny. Telisian had no desire to risk Sheba¡¯s wrath, so it would never presume to interfere.


    But now there was a second mortal, unbespoken, unvouched for, who had entered the Other Realm through a connection to his brother. This interested Telisian. Such an event hadn¡¯t happened in a millennium. He focused on the link and followed it to the two boys, where he invaded their dream, silently watching.


    One of the boys was vouchsafed and would receive his gift from Sheba, but just this once, Telisian thought it would like to bestow a gift of its own. A tendril of power emerged and ever so slightly brushed Dahr, waking him from his dream-slumber. Telisian watched the boy stand up, look around confused, and start moving in the direction of his brother, following the link between them without even knowing it. If Telisian had a mouth it would have smiled, would have laughed, would have guffawed over the joke it had perpetrated on the boy and indeed the entire world. It looked forward with great relish to the entertainment today¡¯s mischief would provide over the decades and centuries to come.

 Chapter 2 - The Other Realm

    Fourth Day of Learning 1142 ¡ª Battle Song Eve


    <div>


    As dreams went, this wasn¡¯t much of one. A field of grass, a wooden chest, and a relatively small bush that had only recently appeared, from which Prince Eric¡¯s young servant had emerged.


    ¡°What are you doing here, Dahr?¡± The prince couldn¡¯t quite keep the exasperation out of his voice.


    ¡°No idea. Am I dreaming?¡±


    ¡°No! I¡¯m dreaming, and I don¡¯t think you¡¯re supposed to be here.¡±


    Dahr looked stricken. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    Eric¡¯s momentary annoyance disappeared almost as quickly as it had formed. Dahr couldn¡¯t have gotten here if the gods hadn¡¯t in some way been involved. Perhaps he was supposed to be here. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You didn¡¯t do anything wrong. You¡¯re not in trouble.¡±


    Dahr looked relieved for all of three seconds, until a rustle from a different bush that also hadn¡¯t been there before, caught their attention. Dahr¡¯s panic was as short lived as his relief. A pristine white wolf emerged from the bush, but as the white wolf was a symbol of the goddess, both boys relaxed. Whatever else Eric had been about to say was lost in the majesty of the creature. The wolf approached and then sat waiting.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± said Eric, hesitantly. He wasn¡¯t at all certain what he was meant to do.


    The wolf didn¡¯t react immediately, but then cocked its head to the side as if listening. Eric wasn¡¯t sure exactly who it was listening to, but he had his suspicions. Before Eric could think of what else to try, the wolf started to walk away, pausing after a few steps to look back at the boys.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m supposed to follow it,¡± whispered Eric, awed.


    ¡°I can just wait here¡±, said Dahr, but his voice quavered.


    ¡°No you can¡¯t. When we¡¯re together, I¡¯m responsible for you. And you¡¯re going to be my brother. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m leaving you behind in this place.¡±


    The gratitude in Dahr¡¯s eyes was all the reward Eric needed.


    The wolf started walking again and in panic, Eric reached quickly into the chest, attempting to grab the sword. He had no idea what would follow, but he was pretty sure the path of the warrior involved some sort of combat. The weapon that came out of the chest however wasn¡¯t a sword at all. It was a shield, pointed at the bottom, two crescents forming the top, meeting in the middle, which rose higher than he would have expected it to, as if some ornament had been affixed to the middle of it at the top. It looked odd sticking up as it did. Eric wondered if it served some purpose.


    As soon as he lifted it, the glowing mark of Sheba appeared in its center, two crossed swords within a circle formed by a crescent moon. He considered the shield with a tinge of disappointment. What would he do with a shield?


    Still, this was a test, and you had to make do with the tools you were given, no matter how inadequate they may seem. He forced a smile, gestured for Dahr to follow and set off after the wolf.


    *


    King Terrence and Queen Treya sat on their thrones, staring at Dahr, who had fallen asleep leaning against one of the pillars.


    ¡°That didn¡¯t take long,¡± said Terrence, chuckling.


    ¡°Should I take him to bed?¡±


    Terrence thought it over and shook his head. ¡°He¡¯ll want to be here when Eric returns. Let him rest. If he¡¯s going to be part of the family, let him be a part of it.¡±


    The queen smiled. ¡°He always has been.¡±


    The king didn¡¯t know what to do with that. How could she so love a boy carried by another? It probably helped that his mother was no longer around, but still, would he have been so understanding had the situation been reversed? He didn¡¯t think so.


    And yet now he had to ask himself that question since Treya had mentioned she hadn¡¯t been alone every night while he¡¯d been gone. He hadn¡¯t known but had suspected. He had never asked anyone because he really didn¡¯t want an answer, but now he had one. And what was he to do with that?


    Nothing. Nothing at all. There was a double standard in most parts of the kingdom. Male nobles were allowed to do whatever they wanted, but their wives were expected to remain faithful no matter what. It wasn¡¯t right. It had never been right. He hadn¡¯t been faithful, could he blame his wife for doing exactly what he had done? What kind of man would that make him? Did people know of her indiscretions? If they did, did that somehow reflect on him? Did it matter?


    He turned to look at his wife, who fondly regarded the sleeping boy. She had enough love in her heart for his bastard. Enough love to forgive him. Could he ever live up to that standard? Maybe not. But he could sure as hell try.


    *


    The Wolf kept a leisurely pace, slowing to wait on the rare occasions the boys fell behind. Eric kept half an eye on Dahr, half an eye on his surroundings as he jogged after the wolf. He didn¡¯t want to run faster, because if he had to fight, he didn¡¯t want to start while winded. Yet it seemed like miles had rolled by without so much as a blemish in the landscape. It was just a grassy plain for as far as the eye could see.


    They came upon the rocky canyon quite suddenly, or more appropriately, it came upon them. One minute there was nothing but grass and then it appeared before them, a narrow crevice with steep sides as if a giant hill made of smooth gray stone had come into existence as they approached. It hadn¡¯t grown from the ground, but had instead appeared, Perhaps it had always been there, and they just hadn¡¯t been able to see it until they were close enough. The crevice was so narrow they¡¯d have to enter single file. If you were going to ambush someone, this would be the place.


    When the wolf ran into the chasm, Eric followed, glancing back to make sure Dahr was bringing up the rear. A hundred paces later the wolf vanished, and after pausing only briefly, Eric continued forward holding the shield in front of him, wishing it was a sword.


    For a long time they continued, the walls getting higher. Then, ahead of them, he spotted a group of creatures he didn¡¯t recognize. They were humanoid, but clearly not human. They looked like they were made from clay or maybe mud. None of the creatures stood taller than the middle of his chest, and their faces were featureless smooth ovals. They approached without a sound, without hesitation, without fear.


    Eric paused for a moment, then raised his shield and called out. ¡°Ho there. State your business.¡±


    No response, not that he expected any¡ªnone of them had a mouth. The creatures continued to advance.


    ¡°Halt... I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±


    No reaction at all. The creatures continued, single-file. Eric couldn¡¯t tell how many. Ten? A dozen? In the shadows at the bottom of the canyon, their color blended into the walls and each other, making them impossible to count. They advanced without pausing. Was this a test? Should he attack first? Wait to see what they did? What was being tested here, his response or his combat skill?


    He kept his shield before him, turning sideways to minimize his profile. He¡¯d had training with sword and shield, but never just a shield by itself. If it came to a fight, he wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d handle it.


    The creatures got within three feet of him and stopped. He couldn¡¯t go further forward without walking into them. He could go back but didn¡¯t think he should. After all, the wolf had entered this crevice. He could attack, but the creatures had yet to do anything hostile.


    Then a rock struck the ground at his feet. He heard a few others land behind him. He had been so consumed with the attack from ahead, he had forgotten of the possibility of an attack from above. Eric backpedaled to where Dahr stood and raised the shield over both of their heads.


    More stones began to fall from above, most of them fairly small. Eric held the shield as if it was a parasol. He pulled Dahr closer, and they waited as the rocks pounded down on them. The force of them tested his endurance as he tried to keep the shield steady. A few stray rocks hit his calves and feet, which stung but did no real damage. He realized he was prioritizing Dahr over himself. The smaller Dahr wasn¡¯t getting hit at all. All to the good. Eric was far more capable of taking hits.


    Soon after, the rocks stopped and the creatures before him attacked. Now Eric used the shield to block them and push them back, powering forward with his legs. It wasn¡¯t very different from wading through mud. The creatures weren¡¯t that hard to force back. It took steady, powerful strides to advance, but he was up to the task, for a while at least. And slowly, over time, he made progress.


    He struck with his shield whenever he could and pushed forward when the width of the chasm didn¡¯t allow him the chance to attack. They fought bare handed, using their arms as clubs, while he struck, blocked and pushed for what seemed like hours. Forward, ever so slowly. His shoulder was raw, his arm throbbed, and his legs ached from fighting against the weight of them. He could feel the muscles expand and contract has he fought for each tortured step.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The slow advance, combined with the fatigue in his muscle and the pain in his arms, shoulders and legs started to take its toll. A couple of times, Eric found himself slowing down. When he did, he grew angry at himself and used that to force himself to continue. But he knew that it was a fool¡¯s errand. He couldn¡¯t push forever. Sooner or later his strength would have to give out, and what would happen to Dahr then? Every time he wanted to give up, every time he slowed down, his thoughts returned to Dahr, and he fought harder. After all, he was the only thing standing between Dahr and the enemy. And then he reached an area where the canyon was just a bit wider.


    He took the opportunity to swing the shield in a sweeping arc, powering it into the lead creature with such force that he shattered it. It crumpled into pieces at his feet as if it really had been made of clay. In death, the creature looked like nothing more than a broken vase.


    A spark of hope ignited in his chest. He had been moving mechanically, doggedly, pushing against an enemy he could not defeat. He had it in the back of his mind that he wouldn¡¯t last forever, and that eventually, he would fail. Nothing had really changed, but there was one less of them, and Eric wondered at how differently he felt. Whereas before he was waiting for collapse, he was now able to redouble his effort.


    Was that what he was supposed to learn from this? Was Sheba trying to teach him a lesson? He had heard of battles being lost because people had given up. He hadn¡¯t given up, but he could see how he might have. Until the moment when he took one down, he didn¡¯t see a way out. There had been, though. This wasn¡¯t a test of his combat ability, nor was it a test of his endurance. It was a test of his faith. Not in the goddess but in himself. His ability to be steadfast. Surely that was as important as any other warrior trait.


    Nothing had changed, but everything had. The sequence of events, blocking, pushing and swinging when possible, went on for what seemed like days, but was probably only an hour or two. And every time he thought he couldn¡¯t go further, he risked a look back. Dahr was there, and that gave him the strength to continue.


    Again the canyon widened and he struck, swinging his shield with all the strength he could muster. His need to get through this before he collapsed from exhaustion powered the attack, and another of the creatures shattered. A few minutes later, he took out another. Forward, endlessly forward. Eventually there were only a handful left, and finally only a single enemy. And when that enemy fell to pieces at his feet, he let out a whoop that was as much relief as triumph. The canyon vanished at the same moment, making it seem like his shout had somehow dispelled it. And though he knew the thought was ridiculous, he rather fancied the idea.


    Eric checked on Dahr before collapsing onto the grass. He was utterly spent, out of breath, and his arm and shoulder were on fire. He was neither hungry nor thirsty however, which was good for he had neither food nor water. If this was only the first trial, he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d make it. His strength had already been sorely tested.


    As he lay there, half dozing, he heard a rustle from a bush that had appeared from nowhere, like every other feature of the landscape he¡¯d encountered. He forced himself to sit and reached for his shield, but it was the white wolf, holding a silver scroll case in its mouth. The wolf sat and waited.


    Eric pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, and walked slowly to the wolf. It didn¡¯t move, but he could tell its eyes followed his slow progress. He reached out, wrapped his hand around the scroll case. The wolf released it. As soon as it did, the scroll case dissolved into mist, which surrounded him. And in his head, he heard a voice that was infinitely kind, infinitely fair, infinitely powerful...Sheba¡¯s voice.


    Skill unlocked: Shield Bash. I guess you could say your first trial was a smashing success.


    Was that a pun? Surely not. Transition was a serious matter. The goddess couldn¡¯t be joking with him, could she?


    Dahr stood nearby, watching, but not understanding what had just happened. He looked at Prince Eric standing before the sitting wolf, but apparently heard nothing if his next words were anything to go by.


    ¡°Do you think I can pet him?¡±


    Eric looked nonplussed. ¡°Are you mad? Do you not understand that this wolf represents Sheba, the goddess of honor, combat and the hunt?¡±


    Dahr looked abashed. ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Well now you do.¡±


    ¡°He''s really cute though. Are you sure¡­¡±


    ¡°Dahr!¡±


    The younger boy grinned, and Eric realized he¡¯d been baiting him. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for your age, you know that.¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°I know.¡±


    The wolf hadn¡¯t moved from its sitting position, and Prince Eric thought it might be grinning, but then wolves always looked like that. He walked over to where his shield lay on the grass and picked it up. He had a new skill but had no real idea how to use it or what it meant.


    He held the shield in front of him. ¡°Shield bash!¡±


    Nothing happened. He tried to think about what a shield bash was, tried to locate some small cache of knowledge that he hadn¡¯t known before, but there was nothing.


    Without warning, the wolf sprang at him. One second it had been sitting and the next moment it was airborne. Eric instinctively swung his shield, but instead of blocking, he timed the swing to intercept the wolf mid-flight.


    He had braced himself for impact, but it never happened. The wolf, to his astonishment, flew sideways several feet where it landed hard on the grass. It quickly found its footing and trotted back to the boys.


    ¡°Whoa!¡± said Dahr.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± was all Prince Eric could think to say. And he realized that it wasn¡¯t his own strength he had used, indeed he wasn¡¯t strong enough to propel a full grown wolf that far. He had been using the gift of strength bestowed upon him by Sheba.


    *


    The second trial started much like the first. It appeared out of nowhere after a lengthy walk along a seemingly endless grassy plain. On the grass was a giant with one eye in the center of its head. It had rows of sharp teeth in a mouth that seemed too wide for the rest of its face. Its nose was comparatively small. The creature had no hair at all. What it did have was unusually long arms, which ended in huge hands.


    It hadn¡¯t noticed them yet, and they moved cautiously closer. Eric glanced back at Dahr to make sure he was following. He had no fear of Dahr making noise. Dahr loved to sneak up on Eric to try and scare him. If the two were to have a stealth contest, Dahr would win easily. So he focused instead on the creature, which stopped to sniff the air before turning to look in their direction. At first Eric thought it hadn¡¯t seen them, but then it bellowed and raised a hand above its head. For a mad second Eric thought it was waving, until a rock formed in the center of its palm. The creature launched it as if it were a catapult. The rock flew straight at them. Eric stared in disbelief as it approached.


    Eric pulled Dahr close and raised his shield, bracing himself for the strike. The stone struck the shield, but Eric was up to the task of blocking it, though he could feel the shock of the strike all the way to his shoulder. He didn¡¯t have much time to adjust because the second boulder was already on its way. He risked a glance at the creature, which was crazily windmilling each arm, conjuring a boulder at the top of the arc, and then tossing it. Eric had never heard of a creature like this and suspected that it didn¡¯t exist anywhere but the Other Realm.


    As it turned out, blocking the stones wasn¡¯t much of a problem as the giant didn¡¯t seem to be able to throw two at once with any accuracy. The real issue was that if he stood back blocking attacks, the creature could keep throwing stones until Eric no longer had the strength to continue.


    He had already had one trial that pushed his endurance to the limit and wasn¡¯t willing to suffer another. He had to find a way to attack while defending Dahr, and there didn¡¯t seem to be any way to do that. His first thought was to try Shield Bash to propel the rocks back toward the giant. This didn¡¯t work because most of the rocks simply shattered and the ones that didn¡¯t couldn¡¯t readily be aimed. Each one flew off in a slightly different direction. Perhaps that could be improved with practice, but it would take too long to develop that talent at the moment.


    ¡°Dahr, how confident are you that you can sidestep those rocks?¡±


    Dahr practiced sidestepping them while they were still aimed at Eric. ¡°I can do it. Easy.¡±


    Eric glanced briefly back. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    ¡°Yep, they¡¯re not moving too fast.¡±


    ¡°Okay, when I count to three I¡¯m going to charge out of here and right at that giant. You stay back here and dodge, okay? Once I get to him, you shouldn¡¯t have to worry about it.¡±


    ¡°Why count to three? Why not just go now?


    ¡°Cause you always count to three. That¡¯s just how it¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°Because...you know what, I don¡¯t have time for this right now. One, two, three!¡±


    Eric took off toward the giant. He needn¡¯t have worried about Dahr. The giant never swapped targets. It became obvious it didn¡¯t see Dahr as a threat.


    Eric closed the gap as quickly as he could, shield held in front of him. He didn¡¯t dare risk looking at Dahr, because even if the giant did decide to aim at the boy, there was nothing Eric could do about it. He felt the urgency increase as he drew closer, because he was responsible for Dahr¡¯s safety, so he couldn¡¯t allow himself to become injured. Whatever he did to take down the creature needed to be fast. If something happened to him here, what would become of Dahr? He forced the thoughts from his mind, as he had been trained to do. He had one task and only one. Take down the giant without getting injured. Any other thought was a distraction.


    As he drew closer he realized just how big the creature was, almost twice his height. He wouldn¡¯t be able to reach the giant¡¯s head, and doubted he¡¯d have the leverage to even get a solid body blow. That made picking a target easy.


    He charged and struck the giant¡¯s knee with all his strength. He heard a loud crack and the giant threw back its head and roared, bringing down one of the rocks to crush him. Eric sidestepped neatly and bashed at the knee again. The giant stumbled and went down, kneeling before him. That allowed him to reach his intended target.


    Eric aimed for the giant¡¯s head, using Shield Bash with all his strength...well, all his strength as bolstered by the goddess of combat. Eric wasn¡¯t sure what would happen, but he hadn¡¯t expected to completely decapitate the creature with a single blow. He watched the giant¡¯s head soar into the air, while its body remained standing longer than he¡¯d have thought possible before collapsing backwards onto the grass. He saw the head land, rolling a bit before disappearing altogether. Most likely it was still there, just hidden by the grass.


    ¡°Hole in one!¡± he thought, then stopped. Where had that come from? He might have heard the phrase somewhere, but he couldn¡¯t remember where or when. He had no idea what it meant in any case. He was interrupted from considering the matter further by Dahr¡¯s voice, raised in excitement.


    ¡°That was amazing!¡±


    He turned to see Dahr running across the grass, a huge smile on his face. He was about to reply when movement caught his eye. He spun, but relaxed when he saw the wolf trotting toward him, silver scroll case in its mouth. It approached and sat as it had before, and once again, Eric took the scroll case, which promptly evaporated into a cloud, this one with a slightly orangish tint.


    Sheba¡¯s voice again filled the air around him, or perhaps it was inside his head. He couldn¡¯t tell. No matter how many times it would happen moving forward, he would never lose the amazement, the gratitude, the sheer exhilaration of hearing the goddess¡¯s voice.


    New skill unlocked: The Bigger They Are. Sometimes, size matters.


    Eric almost choked. He wanted to ask if the goddess was joking around with him, but he didn¡¯t dare, in case she wasn¡¯t, and he was simply misinterpreting it. Eric fought back the impulse to ask a question, motioned to Dahr and started walking. Dahr was trying to get his attention to ask him about his new skill, but Eric didn¡¯t answer. He had a lot to think about.

 Chapter 3 - A Being Both Strange and Familiar

    Fourth Day of Learning 1142 ¡ª Battle Song Eve


    Prince Eric had slain a one-eyed giant! Dahr wouldn¡¯t have believed it if he hadn¡¯t seen it. Dahr had always looked up to Eric, but after seeing him fight a giant while wielding only a shield, he was in awe. He was Prince Eric¡¯s servant, though he would soon be his brother. He wondered how he could ever live up to that after what he¡¯d just witnessed. Though he would never say it aloud, he felt like King Terrence had made a mistake in offering to adopt him. Dahr could never see himself as a member of the royal family, even if he did see Eric as an older brother.


    Dahr walked slightly behind Prince Eric, as they made their way past where the giant¡¯s head should have ended up. He tried to look for it in the grass but couldn¡¯t see it. He glanced back, and the giant¡¯s body was gone, so most likely the head had disappeared as well. Since this was a dream, anything could happen. Yet it wasn¡¯t his dream. He shouldn¡¯t have been here. That¡¯s what Prince Eric had told him.


    He considered that. Dahr¡¯s understanding of dreams, limited as it was, didn¡¯t allow for people visiting each other in them. A dream isn¡¯t like a house. You can¡¯t just pop over for a cup of tea. Which led him to think that maybe this wasn¡¯t a dream after all. Maybe this was something else, though what, he couldn¡¯t say.


    What he did know was that Eric had gotten a shield out of that chest and had been busy defending him the whole time. Was that why he¡¯d gotten the shield instead of some other weapon? Was Dahr¡¯s presence in this place changing the prince¡¯s destiny? That seemed like a lot of responsibility to take on. There was no way Dahr could know for certain, but the possibility bothered him immensely.


    It wasn¡¯t a dream. Of that he was certain, though he had no idea how. Dahr felt strange in this place. Different. Transformed. Was it a property of the place, or had something happened to him? How could he be here?


    They walked for a long time, and Dahr ran everything that had happened through is mind. Prince Eric protecting him from creatures throwing rocks from above. Prince Eric protecting him from the giant. Wasn¡¯t he the servant? Shouldn¡¯t he be protecting the prince, placing himself in danger so the prince might live? After all, a mere servant wasn¡¯t as important as a prince. Yet, the king had told Dahr he was to be adopted into the royal family. But that didn¡¯t make him nobility. You can paint a dog yellow but that doesn¡¯t make him a banana, after all.


    Could Prince Eric die here? If he did, would he remain dead? Dahr had no idea. He didn¡¯t learn much about transitions from his mother at the inn or in the kitchen he had been assigned to work in when he¡¯d first arrived at the palace. While there had been the occasional story, he¡¯d never heard of anyone dying. But there hadn¡¯t been many stories. And would they even tell stories about the people who died? How would they even know what happened to those people if they never came back. Maybe if you died here, you died in real life? It could be possible. And if something did happen to Prince Eric, it definitely couldn¡¯t be Dahr¡¯s fault. He couldn¡¯t live with that.


    Dahr made a decision. He wouldn¡¯t stay back next time, no matter what the prince asked. He wouldn¡¯t allow the prince to sacrifice his destiny to protect him. Whatever happened after this, Dahr was still a servant, and Prince Eric was too important to sacrifice himself. That decided, Dahr felt better. He hurried a bit to catch up, walking beside the prince, instead of behind him.


    *


    After a while, when Dahr still hadn¡¯t wakened, the queen decided it was time to move the boy to someplace more comfortable. She had a servant bring a sleeping mat to the throne room, like the ones Dahr used to sleep on when he worked in the kitchen. She then went to Dahr and picked him up gently, her warrior¡¯s strength easily able to bear his weight even at fourteen. His breathing was even, but his dead weight and the way he didn¡¯t stir as she lifted him disturbed her. She placed him down on the sleeping mat and watched him closely. She couldn¡¯t say why, but something felt off about him. She glanced at her husband, who was busy reading one of the endless reports he received from scouts or the military. She decided not to disturb him. She shook Dahr gently. He didn¡¯t stir.


    She shook him harder. Nothing.


    ¡°Terrence.¡±


    She didn¡¯t raise her voice, or call out in panic, but the king was up in a moment and moved to where she stood above the boy.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Dahr. I can¡¯t wake him.¡±


    Terrence leaned down and shook the boy, first gently, then harder. The child¡¯s head lolled but his eyes remained closed and he remained dead weight. The king looked at a nearby servant.


    ¡°Fetch a healer. Hurry now.¡±


    The servant ran off, but Treya didn¡¯t watch him leave. Her eyes were locked on Dahr. She could see that he was still breathing. That was something at least. But it didn¡¯t go far to allay her concerns that something was terribly wrong with the boy, and there was nothing she could do about it.


    *


    Eric stared around him at the grassy plain. Unnatural. There was no other word for it. Grass as far as the eye could see, but no hills, no dips. Flat as the surface of a still pond. No wind to move the grass. It was as if they were walking through a painting and the borders of it had been extended infinitely. The sky had no clouds either. Nothing to break the blue vastness. Not even a sun, he realized. How had he missed that before? Where was the light coming from? He couldn¡¯t tell.


    He¡¯d had two trials so far, but the second had been a lot easier than the first, thanks to his skill. He had a second skill now, which he thought might have something to do with fighting things larger than he was. The Bigger They Are. The Bigger They Are what? It didn¡¯t even make sense.


    The bigger they are, the faster you move?


    The bigger they are, the harder you hit?


    The bigger they are, the more chance they¡¯re going to maul you?


    What was the good of a skill if he didn¡¯t know what it would do? Was there some way to find out? The second encounter had allowed him to make use of the first skill, so maybe the next encounter would give him some indication of what the new skill did. He was thinking thus when something fell out of the sky and landed right on top of him. He fell hard to the ground, immediately trying to roll and position his shield, but he stopped dead. The thing that had fallen on him was...unusual. It was also lying on the ground gasping. It clearly hadn¡¯t attacked him.


    ¡°What in the name of Sheba¡­¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The creature, whatever it was, cleared its throat, or tried to, in spite of having little breath left to accomplish it. It was humanoid, but its face was too round, too white and covered in what looked like soft, downy feathers. And it had a beak. It was like a bird man. A bird man wearing a loose tunic, leather breeches and very odd boots with holes cut into them from which claws jutted. Everything it wore was in shades of brown, strongly contrasting with the lighter feathers that covered the parts of the bird man he could see.


    Again the creature cleared its throat, this time more successfully. When it spoke its voice was deep and resonant, as if the creature was on stage, performing a play. ¡°Greetings. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.¡±


    ¡°And you are?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m your familiar.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? I don¡¯t have a familiar. I walk the path of the warrior. I¡¯m no mage.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear. Are you not Prince Eric?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And the shy one, not saying anything, I assume that¡¯s Dahr?¡±


    ¡°Wait a second, what to you want with Dahr?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m his familiar too¡­I think.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? That¡¯s not the way familiars work.¡±


    Or was it? Prince Eric had a basic understanding of magic, but it wasn¡¯t the focus of his studies. Could a familiar share two masters? He had never heard of such a thing. Eric shook his head, trying to come to terms with this new development.


    ¡°Okay, first things first, what are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a were-owl, obviously.¡±


    ¡°A were-owl? I¡¯ve never heard of that. I¡¯ve heard of were-wolves.¡±


    A pained expression crossed the owl-man¡¯s flat face as he struggled to get to his feet, which he finally did. ¡°Yes, well, all lycanthropes are the same you know. It¡¯s a disease that crosses species. If you¡¯re bitten by a werewolf you turn into one, yeah? But if you¡¯re bitten by a carrier, one who carries lycanthropy but doesn¡¯t turn himself, you turn into a cross between what you are and what they are.¡±


    ¡°So you were bitten by an owl?¡±


    ¡°No. I was bitten by a human.¡±


    Eric blinked. Things like this simply didn¡¯t happen, but then, this was just a dream. Go with it. It¡¯s a test of some kind. He wondered then if he could believe anything the creature said. He made sure to keep his shield ready though he didn¡¯t raise it.


    ¡°So you were an owl?¡±


    ¡°I was. You can¡¯t imagine how inconvenient this all is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I can¡¯t. Not even a little. How do you like being a were-owl?¡±


    ¡°It has its advantages, like being able to talk. However, not being able to fly is maddening.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t fly?¡±


    The were-owl looked at him astonished. ¡°Do you really think that I¡¯d have fallen on you if I could fly? As entrances go, mine was undignified. I wanted to make a good impression you know. You only get one chance to make a positive first impression.¡±


    Eric raised a hand to the back of his head. ¡°I think you made an impression on my skull, if that helps.¡±


    ¡°Not really no. I¡¯m sorry, Master.¡±


    ¡°Okay, wait. I¡¯m not comfortable with you calling me that.¡±


    ¡°What would you like me to call you?¡±


    ¡°My name is Eric.¡±


    ¡°My name is Kalutu. Is that acceptable to you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your name. How could it be anything but acceptable?¡±


    ¡°As my master, you can change my name if you wish.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Kalutu is fine. And you really need to call me Eric.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain? It¡¯s wildly informal.¡±


    It was at this point that Dahr finally spoke. He¡¯d been standing silently watching the exchange, but now he stepped forward to join the conversation.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Kalutu. You can call him Prince Eric. You can call me Dahr.¡±


    ¡°Just Dahr? Are you certain?¡±


    ¡°I am. And sorry about the fall. It was my first time summoning a familiar. I guess I need practice.¡±


    Eric gaped, trying to digest this new information. ¡°Wait, you summoned him?¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°I think I did. I mean I didn¡¯t realize I was doing it, but I was just walking along, and thinking about how you¡¯ve been doing all the work and that I should be helping, but that I didn¡¯t have any training or any weapon or any skills at all really, and I wanted to help. I didn¡¯t want you wasting your time doing nothing but defending me.¡±


    ¡°Dahr.¡± Eric placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Defending you isn¡¯t a waste of time. You¡¯re my friend. Soon you¡¯ll be my brother. I already felt like you were. I¡¯d lay down my life protecting you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem. You can¡¯t. You can¡¯t die defending me. I won¡¯t let you. I needed to help, and so I summoned a familiar.¡±


    ¡°But how, Dahr? Are you a mage? Did something happen? And how is it that Kalutu thinks he¡¯s my familiar?¡±


    ¡°You said it yourself,¡± said Dahr. ¡°We¡¯re like brothers. I mean I¡¯d never have dared say that before now, but I¡¯ve always felt it. What¡¯s mine is yours. I guess that means my familiar too.¡±


    ¡°But Dahr, how did you do it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just... it just happened. By itself.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just summon a familiar accidentally. You must have done something.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t, I swear it.¡±


    Kalutu stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯ve been summoned, it¡¯s true. And instinctively, I know that you¡¯re both my master. Though I¡¯ve never heard of a were-anything being summoned as a familiar. Yet, somehow, I feel like I volunteered for the job. I mean, I feel like I¡¯m exactly where I need to be.¡±


    ¡°This is insanity,¡± said Eric. ¡°But there¡¯s nothing to do now but continue forward.¡±


    That was when the white wolf returned again with a scroll case. He sat, and as he¡¯d done twice before, Prince Eric took the silver scroll from the wolf¡¯s mouth. It evaporated in a cloud of green and he heard the goddess¡¯s voice from all around him.


    ¡°This didn¡¯t go as planned, so I¡¯m ending your trial early. You will be returned to the real world. I owe you a skill, but that can wait. There is much to consider before I complete your transition.¡±


    Eric looked stunned. What did it mean? Did it mean he wasn¡¯t a man yet? Would he have to come back and do it again? What did Sheba mean by saying it didn¡¯t go as planned? She was a goddess. How was that even possible?


    From the expression on Dahr¡¯s face, he could see that they¡¯d all heard the message. He was about to comment on it, when the world started losing color, fading, slowly at first, then more quickly and... Eric was back in the temple. Standing beside the sleeping mat was Kalutu, who looked surprised. In time, Eric would learn that his familiar always looked that way. Something to do with his eyes being so round.


    *


    Dahr watched Eric fade away, leaving him alone with the white wolf. He looked at it only briefly before speaking.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re a goddess and all, but I don¡¯t think that was very nice.¡±


    Almost immediately the wolf was gone and a beautiful woman with honey blonde hair, tan skin, and light brown eyes stood before him. Her hair was in a long ponytail behind her. She was tall, dressed in riding leathers and had a longbow on her back.


    ¡°How long have you known that I was the wolf?¡± she asked, her voice disappointingly normal. She was pretty, but for a goddess she seemed quite ordinary. Then again, she could look any way she wanted. She probably wanted him to feel comfortable.


    ¡°From the first time I saw you.¡±


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be possible,¡± she said, gently. ¡°Can you tell me how you knew?¡±


    He thought for a second. ¡°It was obvious. I thought Eric knew too.¡±


    She smiled at him and knelt, adjusting her height so her head was level with his. ¡°You¡¯re a very unusual boy, Dahr, did you know that?¡±


    ¡°No, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m just a servant.¡±


    ¡°A servant who accidentally summoned a familiar which he then shared. Do you want to know a secret?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s never happened before in all of history.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And that makes you most unusual. I need you to keep this meeting between us. Can you do that?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. And I wouldn¡¯t lie to you. You¡¯re the goddess of honor, so I¡¯m pretty sure lying to you would be bad.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, that¡¯s true. Now I¡¯m going to put you to sleep and examine you. When you wake, you¡¯ll be back at the palace.¡±


    ¡°When I get older, I¡¯m going to pledge myself to you,¡± said Dahr, earnestly.


    Sheba smiled fondly. ¡°I wish it were so, Dahr, but that¡¯s not possible. Another has already claimed you, even though you don¡¯t know it.


    Dahr looked stunned. ¡°Who? I didn¡¯t choose anyone.¡±


    ¡°It can happen like that sometimes. A god or goddess or some other being can mark a mortal. When that happens, the mortal will be linked to that being.¡±


    ¡°Someone marked me?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll know more when I examine you. Now close your eyes and¡­¡±


    The boy sagged to the ground, but before the goddess could begin the examination, he slowly faded from the Other Realm.


    Sheba watched him go. She stared at the place where the boy had lain just moments before and smiled. She had had doubts that the gambit would work, but Iorana had been correct. There was nothing to do now but wait.

 Chapter 4 - A Belated Confession

    Fourth Day of Learning 1142 ¡ª Battle Song Eve


    Lord Ormund stood at a desk, ignoring the comfortable chair beside him, in spite of the fact that the chair¡¯s arm pushed uncomfortably into his thigh. On the desk lay three tomes, all open to different pages, all accounts of the same phenomenon, and all completely different in their recounting of it. Lord Ormund scoured each page for some clue as to its veracity, even the most minor indication of which of the three might lead him down the right path. He had been searching for this secret for years and was no closer to finding what he was looking for than when he had started. Arguably, he could even be further from the truth, because when he¡¯d started he had at least had a direction, whereas now he was completely lost.


    He was attempting to divide his mind into two parts so he could cast two different spells at the same time. He knew it was possible because a few of the greatest mages in the world had once been able to do so, at least according to historical records. He¡¯d found multiple accounts of at least Lord Terreth being able to cast two spells simultaneously, making him one of the most powerful mages in the history of the world. The Aldes, those who spent their entire lives studying magic and teaching it at a remarkable (but now lost to time) school, had called Terreth an arch mage, a greater mage, or even a demigod in one case. Terreth called himself a hard worker who got lucky. Whatever the case, he had been able to do something no one alive could replicate. And Lord Ormund aimed to be the first person in centuries to figure out how to do it.


    He wasn¡¯t alone in his quest, of course. Other mages of various backgrounds were busy researching the same thing he was, but Lord Ormund had an advantage, or at least hoped that was the case. He had been able to lay his hands on one of the oldest tomes of knowledge in the history of the world, which was why he had embarked on this journey in the first place. It had cost him the vast majority of his savings, and more than a few favors, but he had attained it, and only now, years later, began to suspect that it might be a fake. All that time and money, and he wasn¡¯t even sure it was the genuine article¡­ but he wasn¡¯t sure it wasn¡¯t either. It contradicted much of the current thoughts on magic, which didn¡¯t make it a fake. Mages in the days of the Empire were undeniably more powerful than they were today and, while many explanations were put forward to explain why this was, none of them were completely satisfactory.


    Priests of Iorana had long sought the truth of the matter, and though the goddess of magic herself claimed to know it, she wasn¡¯t sharing. Iorana wanted mages to learn about magic through hard work and dedication. She wasn¡¯t big on hand outs. So he stood, eyes scanning the three books in front of him, comparing, contrasting and in general giving himself a headache. He needed to divide his mind into three sections just to understand how these books related to each other, never mind how to cast two spells at the same time.


    Such were his thoughts when there was a knock on the door. He groaned, straightening up to his full height, annoyed at the pain in his stomach. He had been so focused on his studies, he hadn¡¯t realized the edge of the desk had been pressed into him the entire time, and now he was forced to deal with this new pain in addition to having a headache. The door had saved him further pain, but it was an unwelcome interruption nonetheless.


    ¡°Yes, yes, what is it?¡±


    He opened the door without waiting for an answer and a page stood outside, looking at him nervously, then trying to stare past him into his rooms. He moved his great bulk to block the girl¡¯s view, before eying her with his sternest expression.


    ¡°Well, what is it?¡±


    ¡°The King requires your presence in the throne room.¡±


    At once, Lord Ormund¡¯s demeanor changed. ¡°Yes, of course. At once!¡±


    He closed and locked his door, stopping only for a moment to cast a magical alarm on it that would notify him if anyone attempted to break in, and followed the page in the direction of the throne room. He couldn¡¯t imagine what the king wanted with him at this hour, on Battle Song Eve of all days, but if there was anything Lord Ormund cared about as much as magic, it was his standing in the palace hierarchy. He¡¯d come a long way since his early days as an apprentice but still felt insecure about his position. Any chance he had to impress the royal couple was an opportunity he would not willingly forgo. The books could wait. His king needed him.


    He made his way to the throne room faster than a man of his weight should have been able to move, surprising the young page, who had trouble keeping up with him.


    He reached the throne room several paces ahead of her and walked inside. To his right and closer to the throne, the king and queen stood over a boy lying on a sleeping mat. Angel Morrow, the king¡¯s personal healer, was also present. Lord Ormund hadn¡¯t stopped moving, even while taking in the scene. He bowed to the king and a bit more deeply to the queen, though he doubted anyone noticed. He was sure, however, that they noticed he didn¡¯t kneel. Given his weight and the shape of his knees, both the king and queen discouraged it. Both were far more concerned with the well-being of their subjects than the respect that was their rightful due. Lord Ormund appreciated it, though he often thought that he should kneel anyway, just to make sure they were aware of his desire to serve.


    The healer had been speaking the whole time, though Lord Ormund¡¯s thoughts didn¡¯t stop him from understanding what was going on. Perhaps all the practice of dividing his mind was actually starting to pay off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t find anything medically wrong with him. His breathing is strong, his heart rate seems normal enough, he seems to be comfortable , there¡¯s no fever, no chills, nothing to indicate any issue at all.¡±


    ¡°Except?¡± prodded Lord Ormund.


    ¡°No one can wake him.¡±


    Lord Ormund studied the boy, who he only now realized was Prince Eric¡¯s young servant. Dahr, or something like that. He didn¡¯t do much work on servants, but he saw the King¡¯s concern and, like everyone else, he¡¯d been aware of rumors that the king had had a child out of wedlock. The thought angered him, though he was careful never to show it. If Queen Treya had been married to him, he¡¯d never have strayed from their marital bed, no matter the situation. But kings will be kings, he supposed. He pondered the goddess of honor¡¯s thoughts on the matter.


    With a theatrical flourish he didn¡¯t need, and he was pretty sure that everyone present was aware of the fact, he cast the spell Detect Magic. There was no magic coming off the boy. He had been relatively sure that was the case anyway as he could usually feel magic, but it didn¡¯t hurt to be thorough. He cast a second spell. No evil either. In fact, as far as he could tell, the boy was experiencing no pain or discomfort at all, as the healer had said.


    He cast a third spell, then a fourth. Nothing and nothing. The boy should be up and around if someone tried to wake him. He reached forward with his senses, trying to touch the boy with his mind. He had tried this on numerous occasions in the past, and had never had success, but at least it looked like he was doing something while he thought desperately to figure out what to try next.


    The boy was unconscious, but not injured. He had not been poisoned. Of course he hadn¡¯t. Angel Morrow was certainly capable of figuring out any physical problem. They wouldn¡¯t need him if the problem was physical, so think magically. What would keep a person from waking up? It wasn¡¯t a curse. It wasn¡¯t a sleep spell. Think.


    Suddenly an idea occurred to him. It was an impossible idea but worth checking since he didn¡¯t have any other. He cast another spell, frowned, and cast it a second time just to make sure.


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked the King, and no one could have missed the desperation in his voice.


    ¡°It seems,¡± said Lord Ormund carefully, ¡°that the boy has no soul.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean he has no soul?¡± asked Queen Treya. To Lord Ormund¡¯s surprise, she seemed as concerned as the King.


    ¡°As I said. His soul is¡­missing.¡±


    ¡°What could do that?¡± asked the healer.


    ¡°Nothing. If you lose your soul, you lose your life. You die. It¡¯s the very definition of death, as far as I know. It should be impossible for the soul to leave the body while the body is still living. Well, except during a soul journey.¡±


    ¡°A soul journey?¡± asked the king.


    ¡°It¡¯s very rare, and nothing a young man like Dahr here could accomplish on his own. It¡¯s very much like what happens to you when you transition, which is why it requires a potion blessed by a god.¡±


    ¡°My son Eric is transitioning as we speak. He left for the Temple of Sheba a couple of hours ago.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± said Lord Ormund thoughtfully. His mind raced as he tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. ¡°Perhaps¡­no, that¡¯s preposterous.¡±


    ¡°What is?¡± asked Queen Treya.


    ¡°I was thinking, and this is a long shot I admit, but if the boys are strongly connected, I suppose it¡¯s possible that when Prince Eric started his soul journey, he somehow took Dahr with him, but I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s possible. Not without some sort of divine intervention at any rate.¡±


    ¡°They are very close,¡± said Queen Treya, cautiously, he thought.


    ¡°They are half brothers,¡± said the king, matter of factly.


    Lord Ormund was completely taken aback. Clearly the Queen knew, since she didn¡¯t react at all. Angel Morrow didn¡¯t seem particularly surprised. It wasn¡¯t that the boys were brothers that surprised him, so much as the king openly admitting it. He reacted quickly to cover his growing self consciousness.


    ¡°The more I think about it, the more unsure I am. As I said, it¡¯s just a theory, and I only posited it because I can¡¯t think of anything else. That doesn¡¯t mean there isn¡¯t something else going on that I simply haven¡¯t thought¡­¡±


    At that moment, Dahr sat up and opened his eyes. He looked confused at the group of people crowding around him, but it only lasted a second.


    ¡°Is Eric okay? Did he come back?¡±


    Before anyone could answer, Angel Morrow spoke. ¡°Can you tell me your name, boy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Dahr. Don¡¯t you recognize me?¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me what day it is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the Day of the Dead. Battle Song always starts on the Day of the Dead.¡±


    ¡°And what comes after the Day of the Dead?¡±


    Dahr looked confused by the question but answered anyway. ¡°Loresday.¡±


    The healer nodded with satisfaction, but Dahr had no time for him.


    ¡°Did Prince Eric get back?¡±


    King Terrence answered. ¡°Not yet. It may be quite a while before he returns.¡±


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°No, Your Highness. He¡¯ll be back shortly.¡±


    The king was about to talk, but Lord Ormund interrupted. ¡°How can you know that?¡±


    ¡°Because I was with him.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d care to explain that,¡± said the king.


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can, but I think we should wait for the prince. He¡¯ll want to tell you what happened himself.¡±


    The king opened his mouth to speak, stopped himself and nodded. It was Eric¡¯s night after all. He¡¯d already taken a bit of that away.


    ¡°It is as you say,¡± said the king. ¡°We will wait for Eric and hear the story from his lips. It¡¯s the least we can do on this special night.¡±


    Dahr dropped his gaze so the king wouldn¡¯t see the look in his eye, but when he glanced up, the queen was staring at him. She opened her mouth to say something, and he shook his head very slightly. She was surprised at the boy¡¯s temerity, but she would wait to see the reason for it. If he were to be believed, her son would return to the palace soon enough.


    *


    The first thing Prince Eric saw when he awoke was Kalutu standing over him.


    ¡°Welcome back, Prince Eric.¡±


    The prince stared up at the were-owl from where he lay confused on the sleeping mat. He felt completely disoriented. ¡°What happened?¡±


    It was a stupid question. Sheba had told him that there had been some problem with his transition, and it would have to be continued at another time. She hadn¡¯t however, said what that problem had been, or how it could have happened in the first place. Eric had heard his share of transition stories, some funny, some tragic, but he¡¯d never heard of a transition being cut short and continued later.


    Before Kalutu could answer, the door to the room opened and two priests of Sheba entered, weapons drawn. They immediately moved toward the unfamiliar familiar.


    ¡°Stop!¡± shouted Eric.


    Both of the priests paused. The high priest entered the room and spoke. ¡°Do you know who this is, My Prince?¡±


    Prince Eric looked embarrassed. ¡°Er, yes. This is Kalutu, my...familiar.¡±


    The high priest shook his head. ¡°Nothing comes out of the dream, my prince, and servants of Sheba don¡¯t have familiars.¡±


    Eric shrugged, then realized he still had his arm through the straps on the back of the shield. ¡°Perhaps this time was different.¡± He held up the shield to show the priests. Sheba¡¯s symbol glowed in the middle of it.


    ¡°This is most unusual,¡± said Veloran, eyes fixed on the weapon.


    Kalutu moved to help the prince up, but Eric waved him away. He rose without the use of his hands, keeping the shield before him. The high priest forced his gaze back to the prince and continued speaking.


    ¡°My mistress informs me that something odd happened during your transition, but I¡¯ve never seen or heard of anything like this. I am most interested to hear what occurred.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± said Eric, ¡°I think we should make our way back to the palace. This is a story everyone needs to hear together.¡±


    The High Priest looked reluctant for just a second, then tilted his head as if he were listening to someone Eric couldn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°Yes, My Prince. It seems Sheba wishes you to return to the palace immediately.¡±


    *


    The walk back to the palace was far faster than the walk to the temple had been. For one thing, it was later at night and cooler, so moving was a decent way to stay warm. Also, there were far fewer revelers on the street to slow their progress. Finally, Prince Eric set the pace, and he was anxious to get back and check on Dahr. He held the shield at his side as he moved through the streets, the light from the sigil helping to illuminate the way, making the torches carried by some of the priests unnecessary.


    Others with magic items might hide them at night rather than tempt the occasional brazen thief, but holy relics like the shield would be safe anywhere. Holy relics only received their power from the divine source, and stolen holy relics almost always lost any power they might have held as soon as they were taken. Furthermore, only the most foolish thief would risk angering one of the gods. Thieves, after all, depend on stealth or guile. Having a god¡¯s attention wasn¡¯t likely to work out well for them, at least for the majority of gods. A few of the darker deities such as Tharin, the God of Thieves or Deloshi the God of Deception might approve of theft, but no experienced thief would attempt to steal a weapon that bore Sheba¡¯s sigil.


    Though they were walking much faster, the walk seemed interminable to Eric, who couldn¡¯t stop thinking about what had occurred and what it meant. This was supposed to be his transition to manhood. The day he earned his class. He had envisioned himself returning to the palace in triumph. Would his father be disappointed? Could he bear to see that look in his mother¡¯s eyes, knowing he¡¯d let her down? How would he break the news to them? What would Dahr say? Had his brother really been there, or was he just part of the dream?


    When the palace finally came into sight he started running, and the priests made no move to stop him. Instead they ran with him, easily keeping pace, until they were stopped by guards at the gate who, upon recognizing the prince, allowed them entrance.


    *


    When the throne room doors opened, King Terrence left his throne and moved toward the three figures who had entered the room. The first was his son, who looked almost exactly as he had hours earlier, though Eric¡¯s eyes were on the floor, not on his father. Terrence also noted that, for once, he didn¡¯t kneel, even though there were others present. Not that he cared about formalities at the moment. It was just another indication that all was not right with his son. They were back too early, and everyone knew it.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    With his son was Veloran, the high priest of Sheba, who he knew well. And then there was the creature¡ªa man with the face of an owl. He studied it only briefly before returning his attention to his son. What was that in his hand? Was that a holy shield? Where had it come from?


    The high priest had knelt upon entering, and the owl-man had followed suit immediately. The king bade them rise louder and faster than courtesy demanded. All he cared about now was finding out what had happened to his son. It was the high priest who spoke.


    ¡°Your Highness, I regret to inform you that the transition had to be cut short.¡±


    King Terrence raised an eyebrow. To his knowledge, this had never happened before.


    ¡°Furthermore,¡± continued the high priest, ¡°Prince Eric received two skills, and will receive his third at a later time. At that point his transition will be completed. These are the words of Sheba, who favors your family in general, and these boys in particular.¡±


    ¡°These boys?¡± asked the queen. The high priest only now turned to her, focused as he was on the concerned king.


    ¡°While Prince Eric has not completed his transition tonight, Sheba wishes me to convey her congratulations to Dahr, who did.¡±


    King Terrence¡¯s jaw dropped. He didn¡¯t speak for several long moments while he tried to find words to form the questions he knew he should be asking. Before he could, Dahr spoke.


    ¡°I was there, Your Highness. I was in the dream with Prince Eric.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± whispered the queen, though so softly Terrence wasn¡¯t sure anyone but he had heard her.


    The king looked at Veloran for an explanation.


    ¡°Your Highness, I wish I understood or could explain the events of this night, but I can not. I can only pass on the final instructions from Sheba. My lady wants you to waste no time adopting the boy, Dahr. To delay will bring danger to both of the boys.¡±


    The king opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it and nodded. He looked at his son who still hadn¡¯t raised his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Eric. It will be fine. The goddess favors you. This is part of some larger plan, and before you know it, your transition will be complete. Would you tell me what happened?¡±


    Eric finally looked up and met his father¡¯s eyes. Slowly he began the story that started with his walk to the temple and ended with his abrupt departure from the dream. Neither the king nor queen interrupted him with questions, though they had many. Neither had ever heard of an item or a familiar coming out of the dream and into the waking world. Nor had they heard of two people sharing a familiar. The king wanted to ask a million questions and couldn¡¯t decide on which, so instead he turned to the owl-man and did his best to force a smile.


    ¡°I have no idea how you¡¯re here, but if Sheba willed it, you are welcome in our home.¡±


    Kalutu bowed deeply. ¡°Your Most Royal Highness, you honor me. Know now I will do my best to protect both of your sons.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not his son,¡± said Dahr, quickly. ¡°I¡¯m just a servant.¡±


    There was an uncomfortable silence for just a second before the king, aware every eye was on him, spoke. ¡°That¡¯s not true, Dahr. You are my son.¡±


    Eric and Dahr looked at each other and then, to King Terrence¡¯s astonishment, broke into simultaneous grins.


    *


    Queen Treya didn¡¯t react visibly to the public announcement that Dahr was the king¡¯s son, but inside, her heart leapt. When Dahr¡¯s mother had died, she had insisted the boy be brought to the palace and even then she¡¯d wanted the king to acknowledge him. The king might have erred by straying from his vows, but the boy was blameless in this, and the woman he¡¯d lain with had grown ill and died in the years after her son was born. There was a time when Treya had resented her, but whatever her sins, she had more than paid for them, and the queen couldn¡¯t deny that the boy was a delight. And the way Eric and Dahr were together? How could she not love a child who brought her son such happiness? What kind of mother would she be?


    Originally, she had wondered about the other woman, but she never spoke to Terrence about her, as she had no reason to stoke his guilt. If he had been glib about it, or dismissive, she¡¯d have prodded more, but her husband was not only genuinely contrite, she had felt his pain and decided that adding to it was pointless.


    She had made sure that Terrence had provided for the woman, not that she¡¯d thought for one second he wouldn¡¯t have. It wouldn¡¯t do for the king¡¯s son to live in poverty. The queen had even traveled to pay the woman a visit once, though she had used other pretense to make the long trip. She had wanted to get the measure of this woman herself. Terrence was constantly surrounded by temptation, but she was certain he¡¯d never strayed. Why had this woman been different?


    She hadn¡¯t expected to like the woman and had even thought, briefly, about inviting her to come to the palace with her son. It would have been better for her and the boy. But then she thought about what that might have done to her guilt-ridden husband and reluctantly had left the woman to raise the boy with whatever help she could offer in secret.


    The fact was, she had spent more time checking in on the boy than her husband had, not because he was uncaring. He had made certain the woman and boy had the resources to live, but they had been a reminder of his failure. Treya had never sought to punish him, because he was doing just fine in that department on his own. The depth of his remorse, even so many years later, was something she¡¯d never understood. It had happened, it was over, and he had learned from it. Sheba desired nothing more.


    When the woman had become sick and could no longer care for Dahr, taking him in hadn¡¯t even been a question in spite of her husband¡¯s reluctance. The child had needed a home and he was Terrence¡¯s blood. His mother hadn¡¯t lasted long after her illness began, and Dahr didn¡¯t speak much of her, though at times, Treya thought he was remembering, when melancholy cast a shadow over his persistent optimism.


    Treya kept an eye on the boys, who seemed to be getting more tired as the night went on. The others in the room had more or less started ignoring them, and the two boys chatted amongst themselves for briefer and briefer intervals.


    ¡°Terrence, I think it might be wise to excuse the boys.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Terrence looked up from his conversation with Veloran. ¡°Oh yes. Goodnight, boys. We¡¯ll talk more on the morrow.¡±


    Almost immediately, he returned to the conversation. She shook her head ruefully and walked to where the boys watched her. Of the two Eric, who¡¯d done more fighting, was almost out on his feet. Dahr seemed a bit overcharged, but he might be overtired. They stood huddled with Kalutu, the strange owl-man who¡¯d emerged from the dream with them. Yet another unprecedented event.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you two to bed. Kalutu, if you¡¯ll wait here, I¡¯ll come back and arrange a place for you to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Your Highness?¡±


    ¡°A room. You do sleep I assume.¡±


    ¡°I would assume I do too, but then, I¡¯ve never been a familiar before. Though I won¡¯t need a separate room. If it¡¯s all right, I¡¯d like to stay close to Dahr and Prince Eric.¡±


    ¡°They share a suite of rooms. We can have a sleeping mat brought up for you.¡±


    Kalutu bowed deeply. ¡°Your consideration honors me.¡±


    ¡°Are all were-owls this well-mannered?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. I¡¯ve never encountered another.¡±


    The queen studied Kalutu speculatively. She couldn¡¯t imagine how lonely that must feel.


    She gestured to the boys, and they followed her from the throne room, Kalutu taking up the rear. He moved silently, she noticed, unlike the boys who, in their fatigue, thumped along behind her. When she reached their rooms, she stopped and spoke to Dahr.


    ¡°Make sure Eric takes his medicine tonight, Dahr. It¡¯s not good if he misses it too often.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± replied the boy.


    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m right here!¡± complained Eric.


    She smiled. ¡°Then you heard as well, and Dahr won¡¯t need to remind you.¡±


    Eric groaned and gave her a hug before entering. Dahr turned to follow him, but the queen cleared her throat.


    ¡°Your Highness?¡±


    She opened her arms, and Dahr, uncertainly, stepped in for a hug. She embraced him tightly and kissed him on the head, something she¡¯d never done before. His tentative grip slowly grew tighter and she held him. Clearly, it was something he¡¯d missed or perhaps had never known. The queen¡¯s heart went out to him.


    ¡°Sleep well, my sons.¡±


    Dahr turned to look at her before entering the room. There were tears in his eyes. Then he continued forward and the door closed behind him. Treya felt a pang as she moved away. They weren¡¯t boys anymore, not really. They were young men. She had to remember that.


    She briefly wondered if it was safe to leave them alone with the owl-man, and then decided she was being silly. Sheba would not let anything come out of the dream that would hurt the boys. If anything, she should appreciate them having the extra protection.


    *


    Kalutu followed Prince Eric and Dahr through the doorway. The room was an antechamber, a central area between two doors on opposite walls, each of which presumably led to bed chambers. There were several large comfortable-looking chairs and a sofa, as well as an unlit fireplace. Everything was in shades of blue, including the intricately patterned rug which covered a good portion of the stone floor. A lit oil lamp hung from a hook on the wall. Two paintings that exactly failed to match the rest of the room decorated opposite walls, leading Kalutu to assume the boys had picked them out rather than the person who had furnished the room in the first place. One of them depicted a desert scene, while the other showed a dense forest at dawn.


    Kalutu watched with interest as the boys got ready for bed. Up until this point, he had witnessed only the unusual, but now he got to see the routine.


    Dahr and Prince Eric washed up, changed into night clothes and Eric took his medicine, grimacing just a bit at the taste of it. Kalutu wondered what he needed meds for, but he didn¡¯t ask, as he wasn¡¯t sure that was polite. After all, they barely knew each other. There would be time to get closer in the days to come. After a round-robin of bidding each other goodnight, his masters retired into separate rooms, leaving Kalutu alone with his thoughts.


    Kalutu had remained in the antechamber, considering all that had happened to him. He settled into a chair far more comfortable than any he¡¯d had the pleasure of sitting on before. He leaned back into it, decided it was quite too comfortable and forced himself back to his feet. If he were going to be on guard, he would have to forgo the comfort. It wouldn¡¯t do to fall asleep on his first day.


    Not that anyone had asked him to guard the boys, but he had been born an owl, after all, and he was quite used to staying up all night. It would be interesting to see how he could fit sleep into his schedule. As an owl, he used to sleep twelve hours a day, though after contracting lycanthropy his need for sleep was greatly diminished. At the moment, he didn¡¯t feel tired at all, though he was still a bit sore from the fall.


    As he silently paced the room, he thought about all that had transpired. He was a familiar now, and that entailed responsibilities or at least he imagined it did. Yet no one had bothered informing him what those responsibilities were. It seemed like everyone was just getting used to the situation, but tomorrow, he¡¯d need to have a conversation about what was expected of him in his new position.


    He felt perfectly at home in the palace, which was a bit odd, because he¡¯d never really felt at home anywhere else. Not back when he was an owl. Not after he¡¯d become a were-owl. This was the first time in his life he could say he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.


    He thought about that for a long time, because it really didn¡¯t make very much sense. The only thing he was sure of, was that he was not even on the same world he¡¯d been born to. He¡¯d known it instinctively at first, but the night sky had verified the information almost immediately. This world was in desperate need of extra moons. Moons were very important in his world, since the calendar had been based on their movement. He wondered if that was true of this world as well.


    Kalutu hadn¡¯t learned about calendars until he had become a lycanthrope, and they had seemed like some arcane science to him. Calendars were wonderful. They allowed you to keep track of events over long periods of time. But since he had not had that knowledge prior to learning about them, he had no idea when anything had occurred before that point. He didn¡¯t even know how old he was. Thus his discovery of calendars ended up being both bittersweet and world changing.


    And this new circumstance had been world changing as well, literally and figuratively. He had been in the woods, in the middle of a hunt, tracking his quarry as best he could without the ability to fly. Hunting on the ground felt wrong, but it was all he had. And then, just as he had taken a step forward expecting there to be solid ground beneath his feet, he had fallen out of the sky and onto Prince Eric. As painful as it had been, it had been even more humiliating.


    And somehow, in that moment of transition, he had known who his masters were, and that he was no longer on his world, though at the time he hadn¡¯t realized he was in Prince Eric¡¯s dream. He would need to find out more about that too. Could he go into Prince Eric¡¯s dreams now? He didn¡¯t think so. Kalutu would have scowled if beaks could move that way. He really didn¡¯t know very much, and he¡¯d have to correct that as soon as possible. He needed to know enough to at least be useful.


    He had assigned himself the job of protecting Dahr and Prince Eric, but the palace had guards and so he probably wasn¡¯t needed for that. After all, the princes had lived here for many years without him guarding them, and they seemed just fine. He was an unneeded last line of defense. At least he hoped that he would be unneeded, because he didn¡¯t have training in arms. This whole situation was so frustrating.


    So, list of priorities for the next day. Find out what he needed to do as a familiar. Find out if there was a way he could improve his knowledge base. Question everything until he had enough knowledge to be useful. At least he had a plan, even if it wasn¡¯t much of one, but it made him feel a bit better.


    Throughout the night, he would pause at each door and listen carefully, making sure the boys were breathing peacefully. If he¡¯d anything but a beak, he¡¯d have smiled. At long last, he¡¯d finally found purpose to his existence.


    *


    Fifth Day of Learning 1142 ¡ª Battle Song


    Early the next morning, after far too little sleep, King Terrence instructed a servant to summon his sons for breakfast in his chambers. Treya had woken early and found somewhere else to break her own fast, which he appreciated. The burden of this confession fell on him and him alone. He wasn¡¯t looking forward to the conversation the situation had forced on him, but he also didn¡¯t want the boys to hear the truth from anyone but him.


    While waiting for them to arrive, he sat reading reports he¡¯d received from as far away as Death¡¯s Doorstep. Some had taken quite a long time to reach him, which meant the information in them had a good chance of being outdated. Some of it might be useful, but the longer he waited to read them, the more likely there would be nothing he¡¯d be able to use.


    Treya had told him, on more than one occasion, he should hire someone to go through the reports to lighten his load, but Terrence didn¡¯t know anyone he¡¯d trust to pick out the bits he¡¯d find interesting. Keeping up was exhausting, but being in the dark was intolerable. Perhaps, if they had had more information fifteen years ago, they could have anticipated the Undead King¡¯s attack on Death¡¯s Doorstep.


    The men and women who penned these reports weren¡¯t exactly spies. They were people who kept an ear to the ground for interesting information. If he could gain a trade advantage or a strategic one, it was worth the time and coin it took to keep the reports coming in. Information was currency, and you could never have enough currency.


    The report in front of him was troubling. One of his soldiers from Final Hope had sent it, with details of an increasing number of skirmishes between the forces that patrolled the Plains of Xarinos border and groups of undead soldiers. There had always been conflicts along the border, but any increase in the number of those conflicts worried him. He had seen first hand the dangers the Undead King¡¯s army represented and, more than anything, feared another attack. Even though it had been fifteen years since the world had gathered to drive back the armies of undead, the Undead King continued to test their defenses. If those encounters had increased, it was cause for concern.


    There wasn¡¯t a lot of detail in the report, however, and there was little more he could glean from it, so he moved onto the next one, but his mind remained on the Undead King and the threat he represented to all of Mysandrika.


    At length, both breakfast and the boys arrived. Terrence wasn¡¯t particularly pleased to see Kalutu with them, but that was doubtless something he¡¯d need to get used to. It was hard to think of the owl-man as a familiar and not just some stranger who had followed the boys home. He had to keep reminding himself that Sheba herself had somehow sent this stranger to watch over them. It would be awkward for a while, but he¡¯d get used to it.


    There was much ado about sitting and serving before servants disappeared and everyone began eating. There was fresh baked bread rolls, an assortment of fruit, breakfast pastries, eggs, honeyed ham, fruit juice and, of course, tea. The king took a moment to put sugar in his tea, put down his spoon, looked around the table and spoke.


    ¡°I know you probably have a lot of questions about Dahr being my son. I¡¯m here to explain to you what happened, and how it happened, and I¡¯ll answer any questions I can.¡±


    Dahr had just taken a spoon of porridge, but he swallowed quickly and spoke first. ¡°How did you meet my mother?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get to that in a moment, Dahr, but first, I¡¯d like to explain how you came to be.¡±


    Prince Eric rolled his eyes. ¡°Dad, we know where babies come from.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but that¡¯s not exactly what I was talking about. You understand that though you¡¯re brothers, you¡¯re really half brothers. Dahr has a different mother than you do.¡±


    Prince Eric shrugged. ¡°I just sort of figured you¡¯d lain with someone while you were off to war.¡±


    King Terrence¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I mean, it was sort of obvious you were his father, since he looks a lot like you.¡±


    Dahr smiled and jumped in. ¡°When I used to be down in the kitchens, before I was Prince Eric¡¯s servant, the women used to talk about it when they thought I was sleeping. Everyone thought you were my father, though no one would ever say it in front of you.¡±


    ¡°Everyone?¡± the king asked. This conversation was not going the way he¡¯d expected. ¡°So you both figured out that Dahr was my son, and that I¡¯d been with another woman?¡±


    ¡°Well sure,¡± said Eric. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of adultery at court. It¡¯s not like guards don¡¯t speak about it when they think we¡¯re out of earshot.¡±


    The king grew serious. ¡°You understand though that I broke my vows. That¡¯s not all right.¡±


    Eric gestured with a piece of fruit he¡¯d speared with a knife, instead of using his fork. ¡°We know, dad. It¡¯s not good that you did it. We get that. But Maynor said that sometimes things like that happen.¡±


    ¡°About me?¡± asked the king, incredulously.


    ¡°No, about Lord Elnor and one of the palace servants,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°Lord Elnor lays with a servant?¡± The king couldn¡¯t help himself.


    ¡°Would you like to know which one?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°No!¡± said the king too quickly. He was rapidly losing control of the conversation.


    ¡°Look,¡± he continued, before the boys could further interrupt his train of thought. ¡°During the war, I was seriously injured and out of action for a period of weeks. A widowed innkeeper allowed me to stay at the inn and convalesce. She was lonely. I was in pain and aching to get back to the fight, but my body wouldn¡¯t let me. We...comforted each other. We both knew nothing would come of it.¡±


    ¡°But something did come of it,¡± said Eric, looking pointedly at Dahr.


    ¡°Well, yes. I supposed something did at that.¡±


    ¡°So what did you think of her?¡± asked Dahr.


    The king paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. ¡°She was quite pretty. She worked hard. She was determined, which to run an inn by herself in a war torn kingdom she¡¯d have had to have been. She was intelligent and, as I said, lonely. But she was a good woman.¡±


    ¡°Did you love her?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°No,¡± said the king. ¡°And she didn¡¯t love me either. She and I were both world-weary adults, who knew whatever comfort we could derive from each other during a very bad time would be very short-lived. It would have been foolish for either one of us to fall in love.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°You can¡¯t choose who you love, dad.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. And I was in love with your mother.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you stray?¡± asked Eric.


    And there it was. Out in the open. The one question he really didn¡¯t want to answer, yet he refused to shy away from it. ¡°It was wrong. I was weak, and frustrated, and injured. My men were out there fighting without me. In some cases dying without me. But I wouldn¡¯t have been much help in my condition so I just lay there, in an inn, waiting till I healed.¡±


    Eric looked confused. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have access to healing potions?¡±


    ¡°I had taken the best healing potion I could get, and it saved my life, but no healing potion could have completely healed the damage I suffered. I should have died¡­ that I didn¡¯t was a miracle.¡±


    ¡°So you were on death¡¯s doorstep in Death¡¯s Doorstep?¡± asked Eric, eliciting a chuckle from Dahr.


    ¡°In fact, I was, though there was nothing funny about it to me. Coming that close to death in a place where there was even a chance I would rise as the enemy¡­¡±


    The king shuddered, remembering. Both Eric and Dahr watched him, respectfully allowing him time with his thoughts. Finally, he continued.


    ¡°I had a lot of time on my hands, and during the war, the inn wasn¡¯t really that busy, so Cora had a lot of time on her hands too. We got to talking, and talking became interest and attraction. But it was still wrong. I still shouldn¡¯t have done it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I mean, Dahr wouldn¡¯t be here if you hadn¡¯t.¡± Before the king could answer, Eric had another thought. ¡°How did mom find out?¡±


    ¡°I told her as soon as I came home,¡± said the king. ¡°It was bad enough I had broken our marital vows. I wasn¡¯t going to compound that by keeping it from her.¡±


    ¡°Was she mad?¡±


    ¡°She was more reasonable than I had any right to deserve. She asked a few questions and barely ever brought it up again. And it was she who insisted we take in Dahr when Cora got sick.¡±


    ¡°I miss her,¡± said Dahr, wistfully.


    ¡°I know,¡± replied the king. ¡°I wish things had been different. I know she loved you very much, Dahr.¡±


    ¡°She spoke of you, you know.¡±


    The king looked surprised.


    ¡°She did. She never said it was you, she just said you were a soldier. She didn¡¯t tell me you were injured though...or married. She said you were a good man, and that when I grew up, she hoped I would be like you.¡±


    King Terrence looked thoughtful, and took a moment to remember. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make her proud. I know you¡¯ve made me proud.¡±


    He glanced at Eric to see if there was any jealousy or resentment there, but there was none. Eric¡¯s eyes shone as if the king had been talking about him.

 Chapter 5 - Noble Responsibilites

    Sixth of Chaos 1142 ¡ª One Month Earlier


    Chari stared at her reflection in the full body mirror, first facing forward, then turning to see her profile. Almost a woman. Almost.


    Her short blonde hair framed a round face that contained light blue eyes, a small nose, lips that could have been fuller, and one dimple on the left, which always annoyed her. She knew boys found her pretty, but she never saw it when she looked in the mirror. She looked plain. You wouldn¡¯t look at her and know she was a princess. She could be a barmaid or a merchant¡¯s daughter. She would never walk into a room and have every head turn in her direction. She wondered if that was a blessing or a curse.


    Her breasts had started filling out over the last year or so, but not fast enough for her liking. Her hips were not the hips of a woman who could bear children. She had not yet transitioned, but that day was rapidly closing in. She had hoped to look the part by the time it arrived.


    Chari sighed. She was waiting for a summons from her father. Not really waiting, just on edge until it was done with. She knew what to expect, because her mother had already given her the news. She was, however, under strict instructions to pretend she knew nothing. Her mother had often told her that women were far more endearing when they allowed men to think every idea was theirs. Women were all too often responsible for the best decisions, but men didn¡¯t need to know that.


    After the conversation with her mother, and the inevitable argument that followed, Chari was on edge, counting the hours until her father¡¯s summons. It didn¡¯t come that day. Instead she spent an antsy two days waiting, during which she accomplished little. When the summons came, she leapt to her feet, more than ready to get this over with.


    The walk from her quarters to the throne room through lavishly adorned palace corridors seemed interminable. Nothing had changed from the last time she¡¯d walked this way, but it had seemed faster then. The lace-covered tables with flower vases, the pictures and tapestries and wall sconces were all the same, but they passed slowly. She wanted to get this over with.


    Her father, for once, was alone in the throne room. Well alone except for a page, a servant and a couple of guards. That was about as alone as a king could get. He wasn¡¯t sitting on his throne but instead stood staring at a particularly garish tapestry depicting a boar hunt. She had never told anyone that she couldn¡¯t stand the tapestry. No one cared what she liked or didn¡¯t like. She approached her father and curtsied, though with no one else there, and him not on his throne, it felt odd.


    ¡°Gods he looks old,¡± she thought.


    King Leonid was a thin man, who at fifty years old looked closer to sixty. His thin gray hair, what was left of it, hung limply, as if it had long ago surrendered to the inevitability of aging. Vanity compelled him to wear his crown to hide his baldness wherever he went, in spite of the fact that it fooled no one. His eyes were a striking green, and he was always clean-shaven. The severity of his jaw and the tendency to frown did much to detract from his appeal. If he smiled more, he wouldn¡¯t seem quite so unapproachable. But smiling didn¡¯t come naturally to the king, while frowning was pretty close to his default expression.


    ¡°Greetings, father.¡±


    ¡°Chari,¡± he favored her with one of his rare smiles. ¡°Thank you for coming.¡±


    She wanted to ask if she¡¯d actually had a choice, but as she already knew the answer, she bit back the question.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°In two days time, we set out for the city of Rish. It¡¯s a long trip, but at the end of it, you will have to pick a god or goddess to pledge yourself to. Your mother and I have discussed it, but ultimately, the choice will be yours. Our hopes in this matter are known to you.¡±


    They were indeed known. Her mother had wanted her to choose Mitra the goddess of lore, and her father had wanted her to choose Iorana the goddess of magic. Worthy options both, but not for Chari. Chari respected those that studied lore and learning and teaching, but she was more of a confront the problem head on sort of girl. Given the choice of spending time with a book or spending time with a sword, there wasn¡¯t much contest. And while Iorana was a valid option, there was still too much studying involved. Also, mages tended to be in the back lines, but Chari wanted to be in the thick of things. If there was another conflict, Chari wouldn¡¯t stay behind like her father had in the Undead War. She wanted to be up front, leading her troops to victory. Her father started speaking again when he realized she wouldn¡¯t be responding.


    ¡°We¡¯re not just going for your transition however. Once you are an adult, we will be choosing your future husband. I¡¯ve been in contact with King Terrence, and we have agreed to start negotiations on a treaty between us. Your marriage to Prince Eric will be a part of that negotiation.¡±


    It sounded so romantic the way he said it. ¡°Why am I transitioning in Rish and not here?¡±


    ¡°Because if all goes well, you¡¯ll be marrying Prince Eric. This is a show of our sincere desire to be more closely tied to the Kingdom of Twyl.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s political.¡±


    ¡°Everything is political, Chari. You¡¯d best wrap your head around that now.¡±


    Chari frowned. ¡°Why is it always the woman who has to make the sacrifice? It¡¯s not like Prince Eric traveled here to transition, did he?¡±


    ¡°Prince Eric hasn¡¯t yet transitioned. That should be happening during our trip.¡±


    That surprised Chari. ¡°You¡¯re not wasting much time.¡±


    ¡°And why should I? Do you know how powerful King Terrence is? How strong his kingdom? He¡¯d be a staunch ally in the years ahead. Do you think others will wait while we sit around and give him time? Prince Eric is a rare commodity. He¡¯s intelligent, well-mannered, kind...oh and I¡¯ve heard he¡¯s handsome, so you should be happy.¡±


    She knew she should have remained silent. She knew she should have thanked him and left, but her father¡¯s arrogance was too much for her to bear.


    ¡°Yes, I suppose you see me as a shallow, silly young thing who bases her feelings for others strictly on their appearance. It may surprise you to know that I am not attracted to men by their looks alone.¡±


    ¡°Before your transition you should not speak of such things. When you¡¯re older, you¡¯ll understand.¡±


    She almost choked on her rage. ¡°When I¡¯m older? You¡¯re older. When are you going to understand?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite enough young lady. I think you should go now, before my good mood vanishes. You will come with us. You will meet Prince Eric, and you will be polite and demure and accommodating. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    A single word, uttered with all the coldness she could crowd into it.


    ¡°Then you may go.¡±


    Without another word, she left the throne room, making certain that not a single iota of emotion could be detected by her passage. Inside she raged, but on the outside, she was the picture of composure. She refused to let her father see just how easily he could hurt her.


    *


    Chari didn¡¯t return to her chambers. She had spent most of the last two days more or less sequestered, and she couldn¡¯t bear the idea of spending more time there. Instead she made her way to the training room. No one was there, but that didn¡¯t matter. She picked up a practice sword, approached one of the target dummies, saluted it as if it were a real person, and proceeded to maul it. Normally, there was some style or form to her attacks, but today was all about spending her rage on something that wouldn¡¯t hurt when she was done. Of course, the way she felt, she wouldn¡¯t have minded a real opponent either. She couldn¡¯t make the dummy bleed, but it wasn¡¯t for lack of trying.


    She kept going until she felt the fury start to diminish. It was still there, but at least now she wasn¡¯t going to unfairly berate the first person she ran into. She was angry at her father, not some unsuspecting servant. She knew she didn¡¯t always control her temper well and was working on it. She had to do it herself, because no one else would correct her behavior, and she¡¯d seen firsthand the damage she could cause when she wasn¡¯t controlled. She had seen fear in the eyes of the servants, and didn¡¯t want to be responsible for that again, at least not without sufficient reason. So she continued her assault on the dummy, until she was breathing hard and sweating profusely.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s still standing.¡±


    She spun, brandishing her practice sword as if she thought she might have to defend herself, but it was only Jerish, one of her father¡¯s servants. Apparently, he¡¯d been watching her.


    Jerish was about twenty years old, with wild red hair and freckles. He was tall, thin and always had a smile for her. She¡¯d always liked him growing up.


    ¡°How long have you been there?¡± she asked.


    ¡°For a while. I hadn¡¯t planned on staying, but I wondered how long you could keep going.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been working on my endurance.¡±


    ¡°So I see. I take it the meeting with your father didn¡¯t go well.¡±


    ¡°If things go to plan, I¡¯ll be married off to some foreign prince who I¡¯ve never met and know almost nothing about.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Which one?¡±


    ¡°Prince Eric.¡±


    ¡°King Terrence¡¯s boy? You could do a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. How will I ever know what I could have done? It¡¯s not like I get to choose.¡±


    Jerish leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. ¡°I feel bad for you, princess. I do. You noble types sure have it tough, what with all the chamber pots you have to empty each day.¡±


    Chari laughed. ¡°Okay, okay. I know I don¡¯t have a servant¡¯s life, but marriage is a huge deal, and it¡¯s for life. If my father makes the wrong match, that¡¯s the end of it.¡±


    ¡°You think maybe in twenty years or so, I might get promoted to princess? Because I would take an arranged marriage if it came with all the other benefits. I¡¯m not trying to make fun of you¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes you are.¡±


    ¡°Maybe a little,¡± he laughed. ¡°But your problems aren¡¯t worse than anyone else¡¯s. You¡¯re not starving. You¡¯re not ill. You¡¯re not poor. You don¡¯t have to work day and night to pay off an indenture that you know you¡¯ll never be able to pay off because of the exorbitant amount they charge you for food and rent.¡±


    Chari looked embarrassed. ¡°I know you¡¯re right. What do you know about Prince Eric?¡±


    ¡°Only what people say.¡±


    ¡°What do they say?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference? People are idiots.¡±


    Chari laughed. ¡°That¡¯s not nice.¡±


    ¡°True doesn¡¯t have to be nice. I suspect he¡¯s all right, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll beat you or your children. I suspect he won¡¯t be coming home drunk every night. And apparently he¡¯s quite good looking.¡±


    ¡°Why does everyone assume I care what he looks like?¡±


    Jerish shrugged. ¡°It matters more to some people than others, so I thought I¡¯d bring it up.¡±


    Chari nodded. Between the vigorous exercise and the conversation she was feeling a bit better. Until an idea came to her.


    ¡°Did my father send you?¡±


    He looked surprised. ¡°Chari¡­do you really think your father is so concerned that you¡¯re angry that he sent his best servant to check up on you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re his best servant?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Says who?¡±


    ¡°Me, just now.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°You¡¯re awful.¡±


    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°A bit. At least for the time being.¡±


    ¡°Mission accomplished then. I guess I¡¯ll go report my success.¡±


    Chari¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°My father did send you!¡±


    She started to get angry all over again.


    ¡°Guess again.¡±


    Chari sighed. ¡°Mother.¡±


    ¡°She cares about you a great deal, Chari.¡±


    ¡°If she really cared about me, she¡¯d get me out of this marriage.¡±


    ¡°You know you¡¯re going to have to marry someone sooner or later. It may be that Eric is the best of a bad lot. Don¡¯t be so fast to try to get out of it. At least wait until you meet him before you decide.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much all the time. If I had a crown, I¡¯d rule the world.¡±


    Chari grew serious. ¡°Don¡¯t let my father hear you say stuff like that. You know how he gets.¡±


    ¡°Princess! You¡¯re worried about me. That¡¯s sweet. Maybe we should ask for permission for you to marry me instead of that prince.¡±


    Chari looked thoughtful. ¡°You know, that would really piss my father off. Would you do that for me?¡±


    Jerish looked surprised. ¡°No, Chari. It was a joke. Honestly, if I were you, I¡¯d much rather marry Prince Eric than me.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a servant?¡±


    ¡°No. Because I¡¯m me.¡±


    Chari stared long and hard at him but didn¡¯t think he was joking.


    *


    Eighth of Chaos 1142


    Two days later, Chari, her mother and father, and a large retinue of guards, priests, servants and nobles departed the city of Trilsk, heading for the port of Glanx, where three ships waited. The distance over land to Twyl would have been shorter, but Melar wasn¡¯t on good terms with the tribes that roamed Andara, which made traveling by ship safer and probably faster as well. Ships could travel all day and night, while horses were forced to rest.


    A chirkir portal would have been a faster way to travel, but since the assassination of King Duran of Lethe, no royal dared use one. There were many stories surrounding that fabled murder, but very little was known for sure. King Duran had stepped onto the chirkir and traveled to another, where a Sarithan assassin waited, having already killed the party that had been sent to greet him. Traveling by Chirkir was not secure enough to bet your life on, or your kingdom.


    Traditional portals, another option, were inherently dangerous, what with the possibility of getting stuck inside an inanimate object or even another living being, not to mention various natural phenomena that could interfere with the spell. Chari would have loved to have taken either type of portal, being a more adventurous soul than her parents, but instead she would be stuck on a ship for the entire journey. The very thought ruined that first day, which would have been lovely otherwise.


    The trip to the port through gentle grassy hills, past the occasional farming settlement and finally over flat plains, was uneventful. It was too early in the fall for the weather to be a problem, though it was getting chilly at night. They camped the first night and reached Glanx just before dusk on the second.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The city was crowded, run down, and loud, at least the part they passed through to get to the ships. The port was much as Chari remembered ¨C dirty, bustling, stinking of fish and unbathed sailors, mixed in with the much better smell that emanated from vendors selling meat and vegetable skewers, fresh baked bread, and all sorts of other snacks. Dock workers were plentiful and often didn¡¯t have time to travel further into the city to have a sit down meal, so these vendors, most of whom sold their offerings from carts, did well.


    Chari remembered getting a meat skewer when she was young, and absolutely loving it. They didn¡¯t stop for food though this time, and Chari wasn¡¯t about to ask her parents for anything as she was busy maintaining a general chilliness toward them. She knew that they were doing what was expected of them by custom but didn¡¯t care. You could perform your duties and still be sympathetic and supportive. She felt unappreciated. She was a commodity to be bargained away, to marry and bear children for a prince she¡¯d never met, who probably would use her to produce an heir before finding himself a much prettier mistress, leaving Chari to raise the child on her own.


    Or she could do what her mother had done with her, and have palace staff raise him, only showing up to maintain the illusion of caring. Chari should have been satisfied with her relationship with her mother. Her father hadn¡¯t even done that much.


    More than once she had sworn to herself she would never treat her children as she had been treated. Obviously being a queen would take much time and energy, but she would find a way to make time for her children. They would grow up knowing they were loved and cared for, not by palace staff, but by their mother. It was too much to hope for that their father would do the same. She hated Prince Eric already, the uncaring, philandering bastard. She might be stuck in a marriage with him, but she¡¯d never be demure. If he thought he¡¯d get away with stuff just because he was king, he had another thing coming.


    It had previously been decided who would take which ship and, because there were few cabins, only Chari and her parents had their own. Everyone else had to share, which didn¡¯t sit well with the nobles, who looked unhappy with the arrangements but didn¡¯t dare complain. Her father was not a man who took criticism well.


    The ships would follow the shore for the entire voyage, so Chari could watch the land pass by as they sailed southwest along the coastline of Melar. The voyage would take them past Andara, until they rounded the southern tip of the continent. Twyl would only be another day or so, continuing up the coast which ran north and slightly west. If all went well, they would eventually come to one of the three great port cities of Twyl, though which they were landing at she had no idea. From there it would be a short trip overland and they would be at Rish, the capital. If she were lucky, she would get to see the mountain range everyone called the horn, for it looked like the horn of the great gorsks which roamed the plains of Andara. And then she¡¯d be in Rish meeting her future husband. She¡¯d be traveling through the kingdom that would one day be hers. The very thought of it, in spite of her fear and anger, made her head spin.


    She had never really been sure of what to make of Twyl. Everyone said King Terrence was a great ruler, but she was pretty sure people said that about her father as well. And the king¡¯s son was supposed to be this fantastic find. Others in court, having heard rumors of the arranged marriage (she was never sure how those got out) were thrilled for her. She could see the envy in the eyes of the other girls at court and wondered if they had half a brain between them. A reputation wasn¡¯t a person, and what did they really know about the prince? He was probably good looking enough because that¡¯s a lot harder to get lost in translation, but other qualities are just a matter of interpretation. Maybe the other nobles complimented him to earn favor with the king, and that was what people in Melar had been hearing. It¡¯s entirely likely peasants and servants would have a completely different opinion of him.


    Her father had told her that he was going through his transition during this trip. He could be transitioning even at this moment. She wondered which god or goddess he was pledged too. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be impressed. Boys his age were all idiots anyway. So were most girls, for that matter. Even her own behavior was often questionable, though as a princess, she got away with more than most. Sometimes she felt bad about that, but not often.


    Twenty-fourth of Chaos 1142


    Chari had managed to avoid talking with her parents for two weeks, answering questions with a single syllable when she couldn¡¯t get away with a nod or shrug. She was sure they were aware of her annoyance by now, but neither seemed to care. This left her feeling alone. She chatted amiably with some of the crew or servants during that time, but everyone knew she was a princess, and treated her with respect that she didn¡¯t want and wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d earned. Still, she had to talk to someone, so servants it was.


    The days crawled past, and she spent a lot of time on deck watching the shoreline in the distance, ticking away the hours until her freedom was taken from her entirely. She had no idea what came next but was fairly certain she wouldn¡¯t like it. Rainy days were the worst as she ended up staying below deck, emerging from her cabin only for meals. She knew she was being stubborn, but she would be damned if she was going to let her parents win, no matter how bored or lonely she got.


    She did whatever she could to pass the time, but the days she couldn¡¯t go out on deck remained the worst.


    One morning, after a storm had kept her cooped up in her too small cabin for the entirety of the previous day, she stood on deck enjoying the sun and watching birds circling distant sea cliffs. The longer she watched, the more they seemed to move in patterns. Occasionally, one would dive into the ocean attempting to snare a fish, often coming up empty. At first she had envied them their freedom, but the more she watched, the more she realized they were slave to their competitive environment and their hunger. They either competed for food, or they didn¡¯t eat. Perhaps freedom was an illusion altogether. Thus were her thoughts when her mother joined her on deck and leaned against the railing beside her.


    Queen Rhea was forty but looked much younger and could have passed for Chari¡¯s older sister. She was aware that her mother had taken lovers out of wedlock just to get back at her father, who made little effort to hide his indiscretions. Her mother¡¯s hair was the same honey blonde as hers, but it came halfway down her back. Her blue eyes were striking and by far her best feature. She had a body that drew men¡¯s eyes, from an impressive bust, down past a narrow waist to her full hips. She might have put on a bit of weight lately, but she¡¯d always been too thin anyway. At the moment she was dressed casually. Her mother was many things, but she wasn¡¯t vain. She wore a simple blue-green dress that would have looked at home on a merchant¡¯s wife. She would never wear something that simple or plain to court, but Chari thought it suited her.


    Her mother didn¡¯t turn to look at her when she spoke. ¡°Did you have any questions before we arrive?¡±


    It annoyed Chari that her mother didn¡¯t even acknowledge her attempt at giving her the cold shoulder. She sighed. ¡°Have you met Prince Eric before?¡±


    ¡°When he was much younger, maybe about eight or nine years old. He made quite an impression on your father though. He was smart for his age. Courteous too. I believe it was that meeting that led your father down today¡¯s path.¡±


    ¡°Seriously? Father met an eight year old and decided he was good enough for his daughter?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Chari. Prince Eric wasn¡¯t chosen because he would be an amazing match for you. He was chosen because his father would be an amazing ally. Being impressed with the boy was an added benefit, not the reason for your father¡¯s decision.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to feel about that?¡±


    Her mother looked surprised. ¡°You never want to listen to anything anyone tells you to do, and now you want me to tell you how to feel? If I told you to feel miserable and resentful, would you rebel and be happy?¡±


    Chari gave her mother a flat look.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so. It was worth a try I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second,¡± said Chari. ¡°Is this why you had me study Twylish when I was young? Because father was impressed by Prince Eric?¡±


    ¡°It was a consideration.¡±


    ¡°It was a waste of time. It¡¯s not like you both didn¡¯t know that when you transition you understand all the more common tongues.¡±


    ¡°Of course we knew that. We also knew that it might be that you¡¯d have the opportunity to meet Prince Eric before you transitioned and that any advantage we might get in the future was worth pursuing. If you had met the prince and you were the only princess who could speak his language, it would have paid off. And learning a language isn¡¯t a bad thing.¡±


    ¡°In a short time, I¡¯d have been able to understand it anyway.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re fluent in it now. Anyway, having it translated by your skills isn¡¯t the same as knowing it. Languages reveal things about a culture. Languages can tell you a lot about a people.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°In Andaran there is no word for war, because for them war doesn¡¯t exist. There are just battles. War is between two political entities. For a nomadic people, grudges aren¡¯t held, cultural identity isn¡¯t strong and no one owns anything. They don¡¯t really go to war in Andara.¡±


    ¡°Try telling that to the people of Lethe.¡±


    Queen Rhea smiled. ¡°Yes, well, to Lethe they lost a war. But to Andara they simply won a battle. Lethe wanted to start claiming land they didn¡¯t have any right to claim, so Andara stopped them. Not a war, just a dispute that was solved by a battle. War is much more than that.¡±


    Neither spoke for a long time, both watching the circling birds. Chari thought about war. About Andara. About the people of Twyl, not just as another kingdom, but as descendants of the Andarans. About Prince Eric and how that upbringing might have affected him and how different he might be from nobles she¡¯d grown up with. About her future. Finally, Chari spoke.


    ¡°Mom...I¡¯m scared.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be foolish not to be. I was scared when I married your father. It¡¯s normal to be scared. But I do believe that Prince Eric is one of the good ones.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Chari. If I thought, really thought, that the prince was not a suitable mate for my daughter, I¡¯d have put an end to this arrangement before it began.¡±


    Chari looked at her skeptically.


    ¡°Chari, I want you to be happy. So does your father. He also wants his kingdom to be secure. Can you blame him for that?¡±


    She wanted to say that his kingdom would be more secure if he were nicer to his neighbors, but she didn¡¯t. Finally, she replied. ¡°No. I guess not.¡±


    ¡°At least give the prince a chance. He may surprise you. At the very least, you¡¯re certainly going to surprise him.¡±


    They both chuckled at that, and her mother took her hand. ¡°It¡¯s always hard. It¡¯s hard for me too. The palace won¡¯t feel the same when you move away.¡±


    ¡°That won¡¯t be for a while though, right?¡±


    ¡°Probably. We¡¯ll know more when your father sits down with King Terrence.¡±


    ¡°Will you be there?¡±


    ¡°Me? No. I¡¯ll be spending time getting to know Queen Treya. I¡¯ve met her before, but she was quiet, and I couldn¡¯t get a good read on her. But your father will expect a full report from me.


    ¡°Wait. You¡¯re trying to marry me off to their son, and you¡¯ll be spying on her?¡±


    ¡°Politics is not spying, dear. It¡¯s important to know your enemies, but don¡¯t you think it¡¯s just as important to know your allies?¡±


    ¡°I guess so,¡± said Chari, uncertainly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t ask for a full report on the prince,¡± her mother laughed.


    ¡°No worries on that count, mother. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be happy to let you know exactly how I feel about him.¡±


    *


    Second of Learning 1142


    Chari lay in her hard, narrow bed, the only bed she¡¯d had access to for almost a month. At first she had trouble sleeping in it, but over the days, then weeks, she¡¯d grown used to it. It wasn¡¯t comfortable. It would never be comfortable, but she had adjusted. Adjusting to the bed got her to thinking about how she was moving into an unknown situation in her life that she might find uncomfortable. She might not like Prince Eric. She might not want to marry him, but you could get used to almost anything. You just had to give it a chance.


    ¡°Like hell,¡± she said aloud. ¡°He¡¯d better adapt to me, because I have no intention of adapting to him. Who does he think he is anyway?¡±


    She laughed, and wondered if talking to yourself was a sign of something seriously wrong with you. But she had grown lonely on the ship with no one her age to talk to. She¡¯d had a few conversations with Jerish, but not too many. She thought he might be avoiding her but had no idea why. She realized she was sulking, and was probably not the easiest person to get along with right now, but that was no reason for him to abandon her. Or maybe it was. Honestly, she didn¡¯t know anything anymore.


    Such were her thoughts when the cry went up, a muffled shout she couldn¡¯t quite make out because she was in her cabin. She got up, looked around the tiny room that she¡¯d spent so much time in, and left it behind. Part of her was ready to get the hell off this ship, while another part wished the voyage would never end, because of what was waiting for her on the other side.


    She left the cabin, walked up the stairs and out onto the main deck. A moment later, the cry was repeated.


    ¡°I see Kryst!¡±


    She had expected land ho, like you hear in stories, but of course, that was silly. They hadn¡¯t left sight of land during the entire journey.


    In spite of her fears and doubts, the shout sent a thrill through her. She reviewed everything she knew about the city, which was that it was the largest port in the Kingdom of Twyl. That¡¯s it. All she knew. Her mother, who had given herself to Mitra, the goddess of lore, would have far more information about the city, but Chari hadn¡¯t asked. She was too busy with thoughts of her impending doom.


    Like everyone else, she watched the port grow closer. There was almost a party atmosphere aboard, as passengers realized their days locked in tiny cabins with more people than was natural was about to end. There would be space to move about without getting underfoot. There would be different foods to try, different sights to see, different sounds to hear, difference scents to smell. The nobility and guards stood on deck, but the servants were below, arranging supplies and packs that would be taken on the trip to Rish.


    Docking was a complicated affair, which involved several crew members lowering a launch, rowing into harbor, talking to the dock master to get assigned a berth, and finally returning to the ship with that information. This was likely happening on all three ships, and after the crewmen had returned, there was much ado about getting the ships to where they needed to be. The captain complained that all three ships couldn¡¯t be near each other, but there was nothing he could do about it.


    The captain cleared the deck of passengers except for the royal family, who he wasn¡¯t willing to order about, so Chari remained but tried to keep out of the way. She watched the ship maneuver into position, and finally, slowly slide into its assigned berth. She watched several crewmen feed the gangway to the deck, where others fastened it down. Only when the ship had come to a full stop, and everything was tied down and ready, were the other passengers allowed on deck again. The guards preceded everyone off the ship, followed by the nobility and priests. The servants, carrying boxes and bundles were the last to disembark.


    Kryst was a large port, much larger than Glanx, but that was far from the only difference. Chari had expected the port to smell like the sea, and it really didn¡¯t, which surprised her. Then she realized that she¡¯d been at sea for a month and the smell had more or less faded into the background. It was there if she focused on it, but other smells were far more interesting. Sounds and sights too, of course.


    One of the first things she noticed was a row of cages containing various animals, most of which she¡¯d never seen. She¡¯d seen traveling menageries, and this place smelled like those. The musk of different animals all near each other made her think of other times she¡¯d been close to strange animals. That and the various growls, snuffles, clicks and barks that filled the air as she drew near to get a closer look. Then shouting took her attention from the closer cages to the merchant stalls set up a bit further back. It was chaos.


    Longshoremen were unloading ships nearby. Merchants were hawking their wares. A troupe of dancers and musicians played to a small audience of people who stopped to watch. Everywhere she looked there was motion and noise and color. Especially color.


    Glanx had been mostly drab. People dressed in browns and grays, in clothes that in some cases were little more than rags. Here people dressed better, even the people unloading the ships. There were some people in older faded clothing, but even those were in shades of green, blue, red, purple, pink, yellow, every color she could name. And the people around her were seemingly from everywhere. Was that a serpent lord passing by? Were those manamals talking to each other near one of the merchant stalls. And why was everything so loud?


    Glanx had been loud too, but nothing like this. People called to each other. There was laughter. She didn¡¯t remember laughter in cities in Melar. The atmosphere here was more casual, more fun. In Melar everything was somber. She wondered why that was.


    Her mother had stopped beside her, also taking in the sights.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡± said Queen Rhea.


    Chari nodded without looking away from the chaos around her. She was soaking it all up. Looking at everything at the same time. Her first time in another country, a country she might one day help rule. The very thought of it filled her with trepidation.


    What qualified her to make decisions for other people? How could she possibly be a queen? I mean her mother did it and made it look easy, most of the time. But Chari didn¡¯t feel like she could ever do what her mother did. There was so much to know, and Chari didn¡¯t feel like she knew any of it.


    ¡°Just take it one step at a time,¡± said her mother, as if she could read Chari¡¯s mind.


    ¡°How long before we get to Rish?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°About three days. We have to get around a mountain range, but we¡¯re close to one end of it here. Then it¡¯s just east following the mountains to the city.¡±


    ¡°I wish we were there already. I just want this over with.¡±


    ¡°Chari, it¡¯s not going to be over with for a long time. Maybe for the rest of your life.¡±


    ¡°I meant meeting the prince for the first time. I understand my life is going to change. But without meeting him, I can¡¯t see or understand how it¡¯s going to change.¡±


    ¡°You might like him.¡±


    Chari looked at her. ¡°Father liked him, so what are the odds?¡±


    ¡°He may have changed since he was nine. You used to be well-behaved.¡±


    ¡°I heard that rumor too, but I don¡¯t remember. Is it true?¡±


    ¡°It is. You were a sweet, gentle little girl.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°You became a teenager.¡±


    Chari was going to reply when she noticed her father walking toward them. Her mother followed her gaze and both waited. He started talking before he reached them, obviously not caring who overheard.


    ¡°We made good time. We¡¯re a couple of days early. Might throw King Terrence a bit off balance. We can hope anyway.¡±


    Chari shook her head, but there was too much going on for her to worry about her father being an idiot. Movement caught her eye, and she shifted her attention again.


    A few beggars had approached the nobility, and guards were busy chasing them off. Chari felt for them, but they also made her uncomfortable. She¡¯d always known she was lucky to be born to wealth and power, even if she didn¡¯t always act that way. Her father and mother, she thought, took it for granted. She hoped she¡¯d never be like that.


    Chari could have remained on those docks, looking around, taking it all in for hours, but it seemed like only a short while before she was being ushered toward the end of the docks, where a long line of carriages and carts were being lined up. There, a man dressed like a merchant was talking to one of the nobles, who seemed to be waiting for the rest of the entourage to join him. Chari realized the transport must have been arranged before they had left Melar, probably by message spell. It was very well organized and before long they were on their way, west then north, around the mountains, which she could see once they cleared the city. From this distance, she couldn¡¯t tell if they were really tall or really far, but the range was huge, traveling east as far as she could see.


    The carriage she was in was the only one with glass windows, which was ridiculous, but cool nonetheless. She spent a good portion of the trip with her face pressed against the glass, watching trees, some familiar and some strange looking. Occasionally she saw animals fleeing as the carriage approached, but she never got a good enough look at one to identify it. She saw traffic on the road moving in the other direction and noticed that everyone stop to stare at her procession as it traveled along the road, which was smoother than she had thought it would be. No wonder they could have glass windows. There was barely a bump.


    Eventually, the scenery was insufficient to stop her from thinking about her future, and her inability to escape it, or even exert any control over it at all. And still she had to wait, drawing inexorably closer to her fate, whatever that was. She didn¡¯t dare hope that everything would be fine. Too much could go wrong. In spite of what she¡¯d heard, he could be abusive. She knew there were men who beat their wives, even though they acted normal and friendly to everyone else. How would anyone know? He might be a gambler, or a drunkard, or a philanderer. He might just be stupid or dull. And worst of all, he could be condescending. She¡¯d hate that.


    There was no part of her that thought he might be honorable and brave and strong. Nobles, in her experience, weren¡¯t daring. They made safe, profitable choices, while exploiting everyone around them, because they had the money. And while some treated their wives well, most saw their wives as appendages, not partners. She wasn¡¯t going to be given some pretty dress and some jewelry and sit around while Eric had all the fun. She was going to pledge herself to Sheba. She was going to be a warrior, not some fragile doll for a husband to dress up and display on his arm at fancy balls. The very thought of being that kind of woman made her stomach turn.


    She had only a tiny bit of hope, because her mother wasn¡¯t like that. Of course, she could put on a dress when she had to fulfill her role in a social setting, but her mother was smart. Maybe the smartest person Chari had ever met. She knew so much. And she was confident and strong. But yet, her father, she knew, had the final say in everything. The queen¡¯s power was in her ability to work around the king. She never actually confronted him. That too would drive Chari crazy.


    Three days until Rish. Three days until she met Prince Eric. Three days until she had at least some idea of what her future might be like.


    These would be the longest three days of her life.

 Chapter 6 - The Girl of His Dreams

    Fifth of Learning 1142


    Each year, the people of the Kingdom of Twyl celebrate Battle Song, a holiday commemorating King Mavros¡¯s victory over the Kingdom of Lethe. Mavros had been a fair warrior, but a brilliant strategist. He didn¡¯t win his battle through strength of arms so much as agility of thought. Not that the average person would ever suspect the truth. In the minds of the common folk and even most educated people, Mavros was a great hero. Only a great hero could have conquered the unconquerable, after all.


    Because it was a holiday, Prince Eric didn¡¯t have lessons, leaving him the day free, or so he had thought. He had planned to do absolutely nothing, but that was before his failure of the night before. Taking the day off was out of the question now. Something had gone wrong, and Eric wasn¡¯t sure he wasn¡¯t responsible, no matter what anyone said about it. Whatever happened, he would do everything in his power to make sure it didn¡¯t happen again. Which meant training, every day. He needed to get stronger so he could complete his transition.


    Prince Eric, Dahr and Kalutu ended up in the training yard, but there was no one there, probably because everyone had spent the night celebrating, which meant drinking.


    ¡°Grab a practice sword,¡± he told Dahr.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°So we can spar.¡±


    Dahr eyed Eric suspiciously. ¡°You never want to spar with me. You said you might hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, today is different.¡±


    Kalutu looked concerned. ¡°Are you certain this is a good idea?¡±


    Eric turned to study his familiar¡­ no not his¡­their familiar. It still seemed unreal to him.


    ¡°If Dahr is going to be a noble, he¡¯s going to need to learn to both fight and defend himself.¡±


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true,¡± said Kalutu, who backed off to the edge of the yard to watch.


    Dahr walked to the side of the training area and picked a practice sword from the rack in which they were stored, heavier swords on the right. He chose one from the far left. The swords were made of wood, covered with some sort of padding, which had been glued into place. Eric struck an en-guard position and Dahr tried to copy him, with mixed success. It wasn¡¯t quite right. Eric struck first, and Dahr sidestepped easily.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be faster than that,¡± said Dahr impishly.


    ¡°Keep talking little man,¡± grinned Eric.


    He tried three more attacks, each of which Dahr was able to avoid. Admittedly he hadn¡¯t really been trying that hard, but each miss made him just a bit more annoyed. He¡¯d try a slightly harder attack, something a bit more forceful.


    He swung his sword in a simple quick swipe aimed at Dahr¡¯s side. Easy enough to block and sidestep, but he did it again and again, keeping Dahr moving. The trick was to get your opponent to expect something and try something else. He swiped three times in a row and three times Dahr blocked. On the fourth time, he pulled his sword back so it swung past Dahr altogether and reversed the swipe to hit from the other direction.


    Dahr wasn¡¯t ready for it, and the blow struck him hard in the side. Harder than Eric had intended. Dahr staggered back and doubled over in pain. Kalutu leapt forward.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± asked the familiar.


    Eric had been closer, but Kalutu had reached Dahr before he did. The whole thing had caught him off guard. He looked on guiltily but didn¡¯t say anything, waiting for Dahr¡¯s answer.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. Eric hits like a girl.¡±


    Eric would have normally risen to that bait, but not after what he had just done. He was responsible for Dahr¡¯s safety and was far more experienced with swords. He shouldn¡¯t have needed to get in a shot at all.


    ¡°He certainly sounds okay,¡± said Eric. ¡°By the way, there are plenty of women in the guard who hit harder than me, Dahr. You really shouldn¡¯t say stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°I know. I was just having fun.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re well enough to have fun, you¡¯re probably well enough for an actual lesson. Do you think?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± said Dahr, eyes lighting up.


    Before the lesson could begin, one of the palace pages, a boy of about fifteen, entered the courtyard. ¡°There you are. The king wishes you to attend him in the throne room.¡±


    Eric was surprised since they¡¯d only just had breakfast with the king a little while ago. Surely, he could have said what he wanted then. Dahr looked disappointed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Eric. ¡°There¡¯ll be plenty of lessons moving forward.¡±


    In truth, today had been a lesson¡­ a lesson for Eric. He¡¯d let his emotions run away from him, and Dahr had suffered because of it. He had to be better than that. He closed his eyes and prayed to Sheba. ¡°Please, please let me be worthy of serving you. Please help me make better decisions in the future.¡±


    The page was staring at him. Eric cleared his throat in embarrassment, though of course, no one could know his thoughts.


    ¡°Sorry, Zen, we¡¯re ready.¡±


    Eric and Dahr placed their practice swords back in the rack on the way out of the courtyard, then the two royals and Kalutu followed the page back into the palace. Eric and Dahr kept up an amiable conversation with the page. Zen was only a bit younger than Eric and, while they weren¡¯t exactly friends, they were on friendly terms. Behind them Kalutu followed, apparently happy to observe without adding anything to the conversation.


    Not that they had much time to talk before reaching the throne room. Zen didn¡¯t enter with them. He waved good-bye, and Eric smiled back at him. Dahr he noticed, was staring through the doors, and Eric followed his gaze.


    He had expected the king and queen to be there, but he hadn¡¯t expected strangers. A man, woman and young lady stood near the throne but facing the door. All three of them were clearly well to do from their garb. The man and woman stood beside each other, the girl just in front of them. She was clearly the woman¡¯s daughter, and that probably made the man her father, though he might be her grandfather as well. The girl watched them with scarcely veiled antagonism.


    ¡°Ah, here they are now,¡± said King Terrence, who stood and introduced them.


    ¡°These are my sons Eric and Dahr. Kalutu is...their familiar.¡±


    The three looked startled, particularly the man, who made no effort to disguise his surprise. ¡°I thought you only had one son.¡±


    ¡°One legitimate son,¡± corrected the king.


    The man nodded his understanding, but the young lady scowled. The woman beside her pinched the back of her arm surreptitiously, and the girl schooled her expression but remnants of anger were clearly visible in her blue eyes.


    ¡°Boys, I¡¯d like you to meet King Leonid and Queen Rhea of Melar, and their daughter Princess Chari.¡±


    Both of the boys bowed low, and a moment later Kalutu followed their example.


    ¡°It is an honor to meet you,¡± said Eric, holding the bow long enough to show respect without showing subservience.


    King Terrence walked toward the boys. ¡°King Leonid and I were discussing the possibility of an alliance. The terms will be decided in the days to come, but part of the exchange will be Princess Chari¡¯s hand in marriage. I had planned on telling you this after your transition, so you could focus on that without distraction, but King Leonid¡¯s party made better time than expected. I had hoped to prepare you for this moment.¡±


    Prince Eric had known some variation of this was coming at some point, he just hadn¡¯t expected it quite so soon. To his credit, he didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°You¡¯ve spent my entire life preparing me, father.¡± Then he turned his attention to Princess Chari. ¡°I am honored to make your acquaintance.¡±


    The girl shrugged but didn¡¯t otherwise reply. Her mother scowled at the reaction but said nothing. Her father seemed not to notice.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said King Leonid, ¡°the two of you should spend some time together, appropriately chaperoned, of course.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± said King Terrence in agreement.


    Again, Eric bowed. ¡°It would be my pleasure.¡±


    He thought he saw Princess Chari roll her eyes.


    Queen Rhea stepped forward and spoke. ¡°If you might direct me to the palace gardens or some other appropriate area, I¡¯ll take them now, so the kings might begin their negotiations.¡±


    ¡°Would you mind if I joined you?¡± asked Queen Treya.


    ¡°I would be most delighted.¡±


    So it was that the four of them left the throne room, led by Queen Treya. Eric and a sullen-looking Chari wandered several feet behind. Neither had said a word, but the queens seemed to like each other. They were both whispering happily back and forth as if they were old friends.


    ¡°I know this is probably hard,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t seem hard for you.¡±


    ¡°It is. I mean I¡¯ve never...I didn¡¯t expect this so soon. Not before my transition certainly.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t transitioned? I thought you had.¡±


    ¡°I was supposed to but things...didn¡¯t go as planned. You speak very good Twylish. Hardly any accent at all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve taken lessons for many years. My father¡¯s idea. Seems like this arrangement was a long term plan of his. Are you going to choose Iorana?¡±


    ¡°No, Sheba.¡±


    ¡°Wait, if you chose Sheba, how do you have a familiar?¡±


    Eric laughed. ¡°I have no idea. Do you have time for a story?¡±


    He was much easier to talk to than Chari had expected, which didn¡¯t fit in with her plans. She wasn¡¯t going to make this easy for him.


    ¡°What if I said I didn¡¯t?¡±


    If Eric was offended, he certainly didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Then I wouldn¡¯t tell it to you. But it¡¯s a bit unusual, and I think it will entertain you.¡±


    Chari opened her mouth to tell him she didn¡¯t want to hear the story, but it would have been a lie. She had to admit, she was curious. ¡°Okay. Just know this. I don¡¯t entertain easily.¡±


    Eric grinned. ¡°If this story doesn¡¯t entertain you, nothing will.¡±


    Without waiting for a reply, Eric set off on the whole story, starting with Dahr invading his dream and ending with his return to the waking world with a holy shield and familiar. The whole time Chari listened without interrupting or asking anything. When he was done, she finally spoke.


    ¡°You were correct. That did entertain me. Is it true?¡±


    ¡°Every word of it. Have you transitioned yet?¡±


    ¡°No, not yet. I¡¯ll be doing that while I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Have you decided who you¡¯ll choose?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve always wanted to choose Sheba. It¡¯s not my parent¡¯s choice though.¡±


    Eric nodded in understanding. ¡°You have to live with this for your whole life. They don¡¯t. You need to choose what you feel is right.¡±


    That was exactly the right thing to say, and Chari felt a warm glow of support. He was the first person to say something like that to her. She kept having to remind herself that he was just trying to make a good impression. She wasn¡¯t going to fall for it.


    ¡°Did the High Priest really say Sheba favored you?¡±


    ¡°And my brother.¡±


    Chari frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that he¡¯s here. Isn¡¯t your father ashamed?¡±


    If Eric was surprised by Chari¡¯s directness, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°I think he feels bad, sure. But he has ever taught me to take responsibility for my actions. When Dahr¡¯s mother got sick, we took him in.¡±


    ¡°And what of your mother? How do you think she feels, having to see that reminder of your father¡¯s infidelity every single day?¡±


    Eric was about to speak, thought better of it and closed his mouth. They walked in silence for a while, then he replied. ¡°Apparently it was my mother¡¯s idea to bring Dahr to the palace. She loves him. I can see it in the way she looks at him.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not mad?¡±


    ¡°At what? It¡¯s not my business. What happens between my parents is their business. And if they can make peace with it, why should I have an issue? Anyway, Dahr is my best friend.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s a bastard!¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s his fault how? Dahr is blameless in this. He had no choice. His life has been harder than mine. Why should I blame him?¡±


    Now it was Chari¡¯s turn to hesitate before answering. Eric, she was forced to admit, was right. It would have been unfair to blame Dahr. But how could the queen tolerate his presence. It would have gutted her to have the bastard son of her husband around every day.


    ¡°Why would your father stray from his vows like that?¡±


    Eric raised an eyebrow at the personal question but answered anyway. If this young lady were to one day be his wife, he owed her honesty if nothing else.


    ¡°My father fought in the Undead War. He¡¯d been injured. He was forced to stay at a nearby inn while his men fought without him. He was aching to get back into combat but his body wouldn¡¯t let him. The innkeeper was a widow. She was lonely, scared, in pain over losing her husband. Her inn wasn¡¯t doing well during the war. So they comforted each other. They both knew the relationship wouldn¡¯t last.¡±


    ¡°How do you know all that?¡±


    ¡°My father told us. He told my mother as well.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯s okay with it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, let¡¯s find out...Mom,¡± said Eric loudly.¡¯


    Chari looked aghast, but his mother turned and looked at them.


    ¡°Chari seems concerned about Dahr and his origins. She thinks that dad¡¯s actions bother you.¡±


    The two queens looked at each other. His mother had a surprised expression on her face, but Queen Rhea just frowned and shook her head.


    ¡°I think they bothered me when I first heard about them, but none of us are perfect. We¡¯ve all made our share of mistakes, and honestly, Dahr is delightful. I love him. What King Terrence did was wrong. He broke our marital vows. There¡¯s no way to sugar coat that, but who am I to judge him? We¡¯ve both done wrong at different times in our marriage in different ways. And it happened during the Undead War, where every day might have been his last. In the end, if Dahr was the result of that union, then I have to be okay with it, because Dahr is a blessing.¡±


    Chari couldn¡¯t believe her ears. She couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°But he¡¯s another woman¡¯s child!¡±


    Queen Treya smiled gently. ¡°He was, but now he¡¯s my child, and I love him as much as I love Eric.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Chari raised her eyes in both surprise and alarm, turning her worried gaze to Eric. To her astonishment he was smiling and nodding approval.


    Queen Rhea looked at her daughter sternly, but Chari just shrugged. Then the queens returned to their whispered conversation.


    ¡°I still find it hard to believe how easily you accept Dahr¡¯s presence in the castle and in your life.¡±


    ¡°I only found out he was my brother last night. I befriended Dahr when he was just a kitchen servant. Then my father made him my personal servant. We¡¯re friends. I already felt like he was my brother. In fact, I already thought he might be my brother, but never said anything. I¡¯m an only child. I¡¯ve always wanted a brother or sister, now I have one. It¡¯s not really that hard to understand.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an only child too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised. Your parents have obviously been married for a long time. Most kings would have annulled their marriage or divorced their wife if they hadn¡¯t provided an male heir. That¡¯s my understanding anyway. It¡¯s a bit different here, since female heirs can take the throne without being married.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± asked Chari. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that before.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because we¡¯re of Andaran descent. Men and women are considered equal in all ways in Andara. A tribe¡¯s leader can be male or female. Lethe wasn¡¯t like that, but they don¡¯t get to make the rules anymore.¡±


    Chari laughed. ¡°Well, good for you. Women are just as capable of ruling as men.¡±


    ¡°I agree. My mother is a great ruler. She and my father rule Twyl together. My father always says it¡¯s a team effort.¡±


    ¡°I like that,¡± said Chari, realizing she really did. She was moving awfully far from her original game plan, and it was beginning to annoy her.


    ¡°So, if you¡¯re not heir, who is?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°My uncle Alexi. That¡¯s my father¡¯s brother. He¡¯s sitting on the throne right now in my father¡¯s absence, and he¡¯ll take the throne permanently should something happen to my father. His son, Rat, that¡¯s my cousin, is next in line.¡±


    ¡°What kind of name is Rat?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not his real name, it¡¯s just what I call him. His real name is Radcliff.¡±


    ¡°Does he like you calling him Rat?¡±


    ¡°He does. I¡¯ve been doing it since he was just a little kid. He¡¯s like ten years younger than me. They live in the palace too. When my father travels, Alexi often takes the throne. My father says he needs the experience, in case anything happens to him.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s good that you have that sorted. It seemed strange to me that the King and Queen would both come along, but I guess that explains it.¡±


    ¡°My father could have sent an emissary, but I¡¯m pretty sure he doesn¡¯t think anyone can bargain, or do anything else, as well as he can. He¡¯s a bit of an idiot really.¡±


    Eric didn¡¯t know what to say to that, and though he didn¡¯t react, he was somewhat taken aback. He would never say anything like that about his father.


    So they walked in silence, each trying to parse their own thoughts. It was Eric who spoke first.


    ¡°Are you always this direct?¡±


    Chari answered immediately. ¡°Yes.¡±


    There didn¡¯t seem to be anything to say to that, so he didn¡¯t reply.


    *


    They had reached the gardens. Summer was over and though fall had begun, it had yet to take hold. The trees still had their leaves, there were still some flowers about, and it was warm enough that they didn¡¯t need coats. The gardens were well-manicured with quiet paths and benches in shaded alcoves, where people could walk or sit as they wanted. The queens opted to stroll, and Chari and Eric followed behind. For a time, neither said anything, taking in the garden instead. Chari broke the silence.


    ¡°I¡¯d really like to see your shield.¡±


    ¡°I can go get it. I mean, if it¡¯s okay?¡± He looked at his mother.


    She was about to assent when out of nowhere, his shield appeared on his arm. He stared at it startled.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it could do that.¡±


    And a voice in his head, Sheba¡¯s voice, explained. ¡°The shield isn¡¯t a shield. It wasn¡¯t made in a forge. The shield is a reflection of my will. By your deeds you will either earn that protection, or you will not. I know you¡¯ll make me proud.¡±


    He was about to reveal the goddess¡¯s words, when he realized from the expression on the other¡¯s faces that everyone must have heard it.


    Chari almost choked. ¡°That...that was Sheba!¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°It was.¡±


    ¡°You really are favored, then,¡± said Chari. She turned toward her mother. ¡°Both Prince Eric and his brother are favored by Sheba.¡±


    Queen Rhea looked startled and glanced over at Queen Treya who nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing,¡± she said finally. ¡°You should have led with that.¡±


    Treya laughed. ¡°The blessing of Sheba isn¡¯t something you flaunt or use to gain advantage. It¡¯s something that you cherish and hold dear to your heart. Yet Sheba clearly wanted people to know. She must have her reasons.¡±


    Chari was studying the shield, which sported Sheba¡¯s symbol glowing on the front. ¡°She said it¡¯s not a real shield. It¡¯s a reflection of her will and good feelings. This isn¡¯t a piece of metal. It¡¯s a piece of the goddess.¡± Her voice was filled with awe. Her eyes never left the shield. ¡°Can I...touch it?¡±


    Eric nodded. She reached a hand out and lay a single finger on it. It throbbed with power, but there was something more there too. An indomitable will. A strength that no human could lay claim to. And she knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that when the time came to choose who she would serve for the rest of her life, it would be Sheba. She had known that for as long as she could remember, and hearing the goddess¡¯s voice had solidified that knowledge. That realization brought her to another. If Eric was favored by the goddess she¡¯d long ago decided to serve, then he was certainly good enough for her. After all, how could she possibly know more than a goddess did. Her eyes moved from the shield to the young man holding it. She saw him as if for the first time.


    He was tall, with short hair that was either very light brown or very dark blond. His eyes were blue and sparkled with intelligence. His square jaw was softened by a rounded face. He was lanky, just starting to fill out, probably from practicing combat with a trainer. But his face was earnest and kind. He was good natured. He was honest. He even seemed empathic from the brief conversations she¡¯d had with him. He was entertaining and charming and...and...and¡­ at that moment she knew the truth.


    Prince Eric of Twyl, son of King Terrence and Queen Treya, would one day be her husband, and Sheba would be the goddess they served for the rest of their lives.


    ¡°I owe you an apology,¡± she said, ignoring the shock on her mother¡¯s face.


    ¡°You owe me nothing,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°I came into this day thinking badly of you. I didn¡¯t know what to expect, but I was sure I wasn¡¯t going to like it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s completely understandable. Not having a say in who you marry is hard for many people.¡±


    ¡°But not for you.¡±


    Eric smiled. ¡°It¡¯s hard for me too, but I¡¯ve always known it would happen, and I¡¯ve always known it would be hard. I would marry whoever my parents chose for me, because I trust them to do what is not only in my best interest, but in the best interests of Twyl. I didn¡¯t know I was going to meet you today, I wasn¡¯t told, but when I saw you, I felt immediately that they had made the right choice. It wasn¡¯t just how you looked, though you¡¯re beautiful of course. It was the defiance in how you stood, the fierceness in your manner. I knew you were a fighter from that first moment in your presence. And there is no better way to sharpen your sword than to test yourself. I strongly suspect that over the years, you will test me sorely...and I will love you for it.¡±


    Chari didn¡¯t know what to say. She started to speak, stopped. Started again. Stopped again. Finally, she smiled and embraced him. ¡°I¡¯m going to hold you to that.


    *


    Later that evening, after a delightful day spent with Prince Eric, Chari was alone in her room, when she received a summons from Queen Treya. Curious, she followed a page she¡¯d never seen before through palace corridors, but she wasn¡¯t taken to the throne room. Instead she was led to a small salon, in which the queen sat with a pot of tea and some sort of biscuits.


    The page admitted her, announced her and vanished, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with the queen.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± she curtsied.


    ¡°No need for that here,¡± said Queen Treya. ¡°We¡¯re not at court. We¡¯re just Treya and Chari here, if that¡¯s okay with you.¡±


    Chari nodded cautiously. She had no idea what this was about.


    ¡°I realize you have taken issue with my husband¡¯s indiscretion.¡±


    She started to speak, but the queen held up a hand forestalling her.


    ¡°I wanted to give you a bit of my thought process to help you understand. When my husband broke his marital vows, he wasn¡¯t doing that to me. He wasn¡¯t trying to hurt me. He didn¡¯t do anything intentionally to make me sad. He was a man, alone, injured, terrified, fighting a war against the undead from which he might not return. He might never see me again. Never lay with a woman again. He didn¡¯t look at this other woman and think she¡¯s as good as I am. He was clutching at straws, trying to remain sane while his men ran into battle without his leadership. Some of those men were his friends. Some of them didn¡¯t come back at all. And he wasn¡¯t there to help them.¡±


    ¡°Does that excuse what he did?¡± asked Chari, when the queen finally paused.


    ¡°No, of course not. I was angry, at first. But I wasn¡¯t angry at Dahr. He hadn¡¯t done anything. And I made sure he and his mother were provided for because that was the right thing to do. Being a queen isn¡¯t about doing the easy thing. It¡¯s not about selfishly putting my needs or wants or hurts before the welfare of those under my care, and this woman, whatever else you could say about her, was under my care.


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t my subject since she didn¡¯t live in Twyl, but all the same, when I married Terrence, I took on some responsibility for his actions as well as my own. This woman was under my care because my husband put her in a bad situation, and I could do something about it. It¡¯s not like I could blame her. She wasn¡¯t going to say no to a king who had come to fight off the undead that had attacked her home, particularly a king who had been gravely injured in the conflict. She was an innkeeper who¡¯d lost a husband and had to do everything on her own. Her life was tragic. She grasped briefly for just a tiny bit of light that she knew she couldn¡¯t hold on to. Tell me, how do you think she felt when the king rode back to the battle?¡±


    ¡°But she was wrong too. She knew he was married.¡±


    ¡°And she knew he¡¯d be leaving. At no point did she think the king would leave me for her. He was a fleeting moment of enjoyment in a lifetime of hardship that ended just a few years later when she got sick. I visited her, you know?¡±


    Chari¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You did?¡±


    Treya nodded. ¡°I did. I wanted to understand her. I wanted to see her. And you know what I found?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked Chari, fascinated.


    ¡°I found a woman who was intelligent, and well spoken, and funny. A woman who¡¯d been worn down by life but still stood proud. Some people are destroyed by such conflicts, but she had developed a grace that allowed her to transcend her hardship.¡±


    ¡°You respected her,¡± said Chari, startled at the revelation.


    ¡°I did. Royalty has it easy, at least many of us do. We don¡¯t suffer the same tribulations as people who live less certain lives. They look at us and they see heroes and legends, or tyrants and monsters. But I look at them, and sometimes, I see heroes too. Dahr¡¯s mother, she was heroic to me. And my husband? He didn¡¯t do anything to hurt me. Like anyone with an uncertain future, he grasped for a tiny bit of comfort. Who am I to deny that to my king?¡±


    Chari rolled the idea around in her mind. The whole thought process was strange to her. She thought about it for a long time before she spoke.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I could ever be as forgiving or gracious as you, Treya. I wouldn¡¯t even know how to try.¡±


    Treya put a hand over hers. ¡°Don¡¯t try. Be true to yourself. That¡¯s all anyone can ask of you.¡±


    The two stayed for a while and enjoyed a late evening snack. Later, Chari returned to her room, head buzzing with ideas she had never before considered.


    *


    When Dahr awoke, he realized something was wrong. Everything was off. For one thing he was floating, not lying in bed as he had been when he¡¯d closed his eyes. He was being buffeted by more than one breeze from multiple directions. They weren¡¯t cold, or hot, or anything really, just forces rocking him one way or another. And he was outside, under a sky unlike anything he¡¯d seen before. It was striped in some places, checkered in others, and while parts of it were in various shades of gray, other areas were in every shade of color he could imagine.


    ¡°I¡¯m in the Dream Realm,¡± he said aloud.


    He heard laughter around him. Faint and loud, male and female, dark and light, but it was all contained in one voice. It had a bit of everything, like the sky above.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Dahr. He felt no fear. He felt almost as if he were in a familiar setting, though he was sure he¡¯d never been here before.


    ¡°Hello, Dahr. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± The voice was like everything around him. A combination of all things. Loud and soft, deep and confident, high and tremulous, and everything between. It was both kind and cruel, gruff as that of an old man who spend too much time smoking his pipe, and as soft as a young maiden¡¯s innocence. A single voice that contained everything within it.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Dahr repeated.


    ¡°You should never share your true name with anyone. You may call me George.¡±


    ¡°Can I now? And what do you want with me, George? You¡¯re the one who gave me my powers.¡±


    ¡°I am. Have you any questions for me?¡±


    Dahr thought for a while before he asked, ¡°Do I have a class?¡±


    ¡°Indeed you do, my boy, indeed you do. A special class. A class no one has ever heard of.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°You are a Level 1 Nexus.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Nexus?¡±


    ¡°Why you are, of course. Your very presence will change the world. Would you like to know your skills?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I bet you would, but you are going to make a promise instead.¡±


    ¡°A promise?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I will never tell you your skills. You will have to figure them out for yourself.¡±


    ¡°I can do that,¡± said Dahr with more confidence than he felt.


    ¡°And you can never, ever reveal anything you know about me or your class to anyone. Do you understand, Dahr?¡±


    ¡°What happens if I do?¡±


    ¡°If you reveal your class? It would be the end.¡±


    ¡°The end?¡±


    ¡°Of everything.¡±


    The laughter had never quite faded during the conversation but it grew louder now, as if the cosmos found the possibility of total destruction to be the funniest thing it had ever heard.


    *


    Telisian watched the boy twitch in his sleep. It smiled fondly. In its own way, Telisian loved the boy, which is why it had gifted Dahr the power of chaos-- a power no mortal was meant to wield, but Telisian always liked to play fast and loose with the rules. Its own association with the forces of chaos made it a force to be reckoned with, but Telisian had never before had access to the physical plane. Dahr had provided that doorway when he wandered unattended into the Other Realm. And Telisian had been there to take advantage.


    Dahr¡¯s link to Eric gave the god-like being access to two mortals, something that hadn¡¯t happened in Telisian¡¯s ancient memory. His presence in the physical world had never been felt before. It would be felt now, though.


    Telisian felt fortunate to not only have an anchor to the physical world, but to get one so young. Young enough to mold. Young enough to threaten. Young enough to control. Not only did it not have the power to end the world, but the gods, the truly powerful beings who held dominion over the physical plane would have never stood for it. He would have been wiped out in a second had he tried. But Dahr didn¡¯t know that.


    Telisian was confident that his secret would be safe. Dahr would never reveal their connection, or his class, to anyone.


    *


    Sixth of Learning 1142


    The next day dawned gray and dreary. The sun was hidden behind clouds that couldn¡¯t quite decide if they wanted it to rain or not. The air was heavy with moisture, and the day was heavy with the weight of expectation. This was the day Eric would complete his transition.


    He woke early, pulled on a robe, left his room and almost immediately ran into Kalutu pacing the anteroom.


    ¡°What are you doing awake?¡± he asked in a low voice, so as not to wake Dahr.


    Kalutu looked surprised, but then he always looked like that, what with his round eyes and white-feathered face. On second thought, with a beak instead of a mouth, it would be very hard to read Kalutu¡¯s facial expressions.


    ¡°I am not certain familiars sleep at all.¡±


    ¡°Really? That sounds...odd,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°I have not slept since I have arrived here.¡±


    ¡°Are you tired?¡±


    ¡°Mentally, perhaps. There is much I don¡¯t know and don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    Kalutu resumed pacing. He seemed agitated.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been a familiar before and know little about them. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s expected of me. I also know little of this world. I feel I need to know more to be effective.¡¯


    ¡°We can get you lessons about the world. I guess owls don¡¯t learn much.¡±


    ¡°Owls can learn quite a bit. The issue is, this isn¡¯t my world.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s obviously my world now. I mean it¡¯s not my original world. I come from a different place.¡±


    ¡°A different country?¡±


    ¡°No. A different world.¡±


    ¡°A different part of Mysandrika?¡±


    ¡°Is that what this world is called?¡±


    ¡°It is. I had assumed it was the only world.¡±


    ¡°No. My world has more moons for one thing. The sky is different too. I suspect there is no easy way to get from your world to mine. What¡¯s it called again?¡±


    ¡°Mysandrika. I think it means all of creation in the old speech. Something like that. I didn¡¯t realize another world could exist.¡±


    ¡°Nor did I.¡±


    The two stood quietly, contemplating the expansion of their personal universes. The world they lived on was always the world. There had been no others. Yet now, it seemed like there were, and if there were two, there were likely others. How many others? Who knew? Eric wondered if his parents knew that other worlds existed.


    ¡°Look,¡± said Eric finally. ¡°I¡¯m going to get dressed and go eat. Then I¡¯m going to find my father. I want to get my transition completed as early as possible.¡±


    ¡°Why the hurry?¡±


    ¡°Because if I don¡¯t get it done early, I¡¯ll be worrying about it all day.¡±


    ¡°Ah. There¡¯s nothing to worry about. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever transitioned?¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­.no.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re hardly an authority on the subject. Wait for Dahr and stay with him today. I won¡¯t be around to protect him.¡±


    ¡°Very good, Prince Eric. Good luck!¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    *


    When Eric reached the throne room, he was surprised to find his father, his mother and Veloran, the High Priest of Sheba waiting for him.


    He stopped in his tracks, forgetting even to bow. ¡°You knew I¡¯d be here. You knew I¡¯d want to finish my transition.¡±


    Veloran nodded. ¡°I did. There are advantages to being a priest. Whichever god you had chosen on that first night, that high priest would have been here waiting for you. It¡¯s not always the high priest of course, it could be any priest, but high priests are most often the ones who attend to the needs of royal families.


    ¡°So my choosing was predestined?¡±


    Veloran shook his head quickly. ¡°Of course not. Everyone has free will. But your mind was made up a very long time ago. How could Sheba not know that? And the day of your transition was something we all knew. Sheba just made sure I was available on that day. I didn¡¯t know the exact time, and in fact, had spend several hours waiting. She let me know when your father had you summoned, giving me time to make my way to the throne room.¡±


    Eric nodded his understanding, but he was already moving on to a more concerning issue. ¡°I can complete my transition today?¡±


    ¡°You can. And if we¡¯re not to be late, we should leave now.¡±


    The king looked puzzled at the statement, but no one would question the high priest¡¯s knowledge or motivation. If he said it was time to go, then it was.


    ¡°Just a moment,¡± said Eric.


    He closed his eyes and called his shield, which appeared on his forearm as if he¡¯d been holding it all along. The symbol in its center glowed brightly, even though the throne room was lit by the morning¡¯s light coming through the stained glass windows set high in the walls. While he¡¯d been getting ready, the sun must have found its way out of hiding.


    The king had heard about the boy¡¯s ability to summon the shield, but still looked surprised to see it happen. Eric grinned at his parents, turned to Veloran, nodded once, and walked through the throne room doors.


    Neither spoke during the short walk to the temple, which was fine by Eric. He had a lot to think about.


    He thought about his encounter with Princess Chari. He was not entirely certain that their meeting wasn¡¯t the reason he was in a hurry to complete his transition. It wasn¡¯t that he found her attractive, though he did. But he felt inexplicably drawn to her in a way he¡¯d never felt before. It wasn¡¯t love. It wasn¡¯t lust. In fact, he could think of no reason at all for his reaction. Until he thought of Sheba. Was this union her will? After all, Chari had told him she had always planned to choose Sheba. Was this union somehow part of Sheba¡¯s plan?


    He felt the symbol on his shield flash more than he saw it and paused briefly before continuing. It was like the shield could answer his questions, or read his mind. Well of course it could. It was a piece of the goddess after all. Suddenly he became self conscious and held it just a bit further away from his body. She was here, with him, whenever he held the shield. I mean she was his goddess, she was always with him, but this was different. She was somehow more present. She would be with him always, watching him, judging him. That was true of everyone that revered her, of course. The shield wasn¡¯t any different.


    Yet no matter how much he told himself that, he couldn¡¯t believe it. He and Dahr were favored, but what did that mean? At the very least, it meant Sheba would have higher expectations of them than she would of another. His behavior would have to be impeccable from this moment forward.


    He wondered then what the goddess had thought about his disgraceful sparring session with Dahr. It wasn¡¯t good enough. He had to learn from it, not only because Sheba was watching, but because he had to set an example for Dahr.


    And how weird was it that Dahr had transitioned before he did? How had that happened? Did Sheba favor him more? Well, that was her prerogative if she did. I mean, Dahr was pretty awesome. But then another idea came to him. Dahr had summoned a familiar and that wasn¡¯t something that had anything to do with Sheba. The high priest had told everyone that Dahr had transitioned, and that he was favored by Sheba, but that didn¡¯t mean he had been chosen by Sheba. Did he somehow transition to another god or goddess? How could that have possibly happened? Eric didn¡¯t have any answers, but he was definitely going to have a conversation with Dahr when he returned to the palace.


    *


    Everything had gone exactly as it had before. After reaching the temple, Eric had chosen a room and drank the elixir, though this time he lay down on the bed right away. The elixir tasted the same, both refreshing and stimulating. It wasn¡¯t like drinking alcohol. It wasn¡¯t like anything he¡¯d experienced before the first time he¡¯d had it. And then he was drifting off and he awoke¡­


    Under a bush. He was lying on the ground, fully clothed, and as he moved to sit up, branches scratched at his face. He rolled out from underneath, and stared at it in annoyance.


    ¡°Eric?¡±


    He knew the voice the moment he heard it and turned his head to confirm what he already knew. Chari stood before him, hands on her hips, an already familiar look of indignation on her face.

 Chapter 7 - The Best Defense

    Sixth of Learning 1142


    Princess Chari stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at Prince Eric, who stood before her looking abashed. He had gone to the Temple of Sheba to complete his transition, but had apparently taken a wrong turn somewhere, because he had found his way into Chari¡¯s transition dream. Another impossibility in a month of impossibilities. He knew he had no control over where he ended up once he drank the potion the high priest had given him, but that wasn¡¯t going to stop him from suffering the consequences if Chari had something to say about it.


    ¡°Eric, what are you doing here?¡± she demanded when he said nothing.


    He winced. ¡°Completing my transition?¡±


    ¡°This is my transition. I¡¯ve waited my whole life for this. How are you here?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I mean this is only my second time.¡±


    At which point he looked around and realized he¡¯d never actually been in this place before. Where his transition took place on a flat endless plain, Chari¡¯s was in a forest of some sort. There were trees all around them. Forest giants of various types, some he recognized, some he didn¡¯t. They seemed to be scattered randomly around the area with no discernible pattern. There was no path to follow, but the trees weren¡¯t close enough together that you couldn¡¯t move through them. Eric and Chari stood in a clearing edged by shrubs. The only thing familiar was the wooden chest that sat beside her, unopened.


    ¡°You¡¯d better not screw this up for me. I¡¯ve been waiting for this for a long time.¡±


    ¡°What! I mean, it¡¯s not like I chose to be here. I did choose to transition today but didn¡¯t know you¡¯d be here at the same time. I wonder if this is what the high priest meant when he said we had to hurry or we¡¯d be late. Do you think this is Sheba¡¯s will?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask her the next time she drops by?¡±


    He started to reply, saw the look on Chari¡¯s face and thought better of it.


    Eric watched Chari examine their surroundings, making no attempt to hide her scowl. He wasn¡¯t sure how she thought any of this was his fault, but the more he considered the situation, the more he was certain it was Sheba¡¯s will. And then he heard the goddess¡¯s voice in his mind.


    Everything I do has purpose, but remember, I am not the only being who has power in the Other Realm. Cause and effect here is more complex than just my will.


    He immediately looked to see if Chari had heard this, but she hadn¡¯t. He opened his mouth to share what he had learned and immediately closed it. If Sheba had wanted both of them to know, she¡¯d have let Chari hear. He didn¡¯t feel comfortable keeping a secret from the woman he would one day marry, but he felt even less comfortable going against the wishes of his goddess. If Sheba didn¡¯t want her to know, there was a reason. He had to trust that.


    He was relieved when Chari turned her attention from him to the chest beside her. She bent over and opened it. He moved closer to see, unsurprised to find a sword very similar to the one that had been in the chest he had opened in his first attempt at transitioning.


    She reached toward it, but the sword remained unchanged. Not a flicker. She wrapped her hand around the hilt and pulled it from the chest. Though it had been loose, it was now in a scabbard hanging from a sword belt. She drew it and studied the double-edged blade. While it was a superior quality weapon, it lacked the symbol that would have identified it as a holy weapon of Sheba. If this disappointed Chari, she didn¡¯t show it. She took a few practice cuts with it while holding the belt and scabbard in her left hand, nodded in satisfaction, sheathed it, then buckled it around her waist.


    ¡°You can come along if you want,¡± she said, finally returning her attention to Eric. ¡°Just don¡¯t get in my way.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think of it.¡±


    She set off in a confident stride, and he hurried to follow. There was no wolf in this dream leading her on. No indication of where she was to go, but that didn¡¯t seem to deter her. She walked from the clearing into the woods, eyes everywhere as she made her way between the forest giants.


    He wondered how she knew where to go, or maybe she didn¡¯t, but he was loathe to ask her about it. After all, he was pretty sure he was in her dream, rather than her being in his. For one thing, she had a chest, just as he had had one in the dream he had shared with Dahr. How was he here? What did it mean? He had no answers, so he followed closely, hoping something resembling an answer would present itself.


    Such were his thoughts when he heard something from up ahead, a sort of low-pitched chitter he didn¡¯t recognize, and the scramble of feet¨C many feet.


    He called his shield, and it appeared on his arm. At first he didn¡¯t see what made the noise and then it was there, approaching quickly¨C the largest scorpion he had ever seen. It was bigger than a man lying down. Its stinger came all the way to the middle of his chest, and it was hanging from a tail that was even higher. Its tail was long enough and the stinger high enough to hit him on any part of his body. Its carapace was shiny and black, with fine hairs emerging from between its body¡¯s segments. Its two claws were raised menacingly as it approached.


    Chari didn¡¯t look intimidated. She didn¡¯t back down. She advanced to meet the creature, and it raised its tail as if to strike. Eric realized what was happening just in time to jump beside her and raise his shield to block the stinger. It had been fast, but he had been faster, at least this time. As soon as the tail drew back, Chari knocked his shield aside, leapt forward and slashed at its forward leg, apparently trying to sever one of the claws. The sword, however, didn¡¯t penetrate the smooth carapace. It slid along the length before she pulled it back and tried again. The creature raised its tail for another strike.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± shouted Eric. He grabbed a rock off the ground and flung it hard at the creature, striking it on its head. ¡°I¡¯m right here you ugly bastard!¡±


    The scorpion turned toward him, momentarily ignoring Chari, who continued to swipe at its legs. The tail flashed over its body, and Eric bashed it aside with his shield. Chari continued her assault, not doing any real damage. The tail flicked again and again, but Eric dodged, sidestepped and blocked, trying to buy her as much time as he could, while wishing more than ever that he had access to an offensive weapon as well as a defensive one.


    By then, Chari had decided to change her strategy. Instead of slashing at the creature, she lunged forward, striking its side with the tip of her sword. The carapace was harder than she had expected, but she managed to penetrate it just a bit. The creature, realizing it had been damaged, started to turn back to her.


    With nothing else to do, Eric knelt for another rock and threw it as hard as he could at the creature¡¯s flank. The attack did nothing, so he leapt into the creature and swung his shield with every ounce of strength he could muster.


    Perhaps another shield, a shield that wasn¡¯t empowered by a goddess, would have done little, but Eric wasn¡¯t wielding a normal shield, nor even a magical one. The shield smashed into the side of the creature, and Eric felt the shock of the blow race up his arm. As he watched, a spiderweb of cracks formed on the scorpion¡¯s carapace. It turned far more quickly than he expected. Eric jumped backwards, but he was unbalanced and fell, holding his shield above him as the creature closed the short distance between them and raised its tail.


    Chari let out a wordless war cry, and lunged again, this time extending fully, driving the sword with all her strength into the creature¡¯s side. Eric didn¡¯t think scorpions could scream, but this was clearly not a typical example of the species, or perhaps normal scorpions did scream but were too small to be heard. The shriek that came from it was unearthly. It didn¡¯t turn away from Eric however, as it raised its tail for a final strike. Eric held the shield up, waiting for the tail to come down. Instead, the creature started turning away from him, and Eric risked a glance to see what had happened.


    To his amazement, Chari stood behind and beside the creature, grasping its tail so it couldn¡¯t strike.


    ¡°No!¡± he shouted as the creature turned to face this new threat.


    He jumped to his feet, charged the creature and used Shield Bash, swinging the shield as if Chari¡¯s life depended on it, which he thought might be the case. The crack the shield made as it made contact with the side of the creature echoed through the woods. The creature¡¯s entire side caved in. It panicked in the last moments of life, trying to split its attention between two targets, unable to damage either.


    Finally, it tried to flee, but Chari pursued and finished it off with her sword. It continued to move its legs feebly until even that became too much effort. They stood and watched until it stopped moving altogether, then looked at each other. Chari was smiling. Eric debated how wise it was to tell her off for the ridiculous risk she took to save him. He had to admit that it was amazingly brave, and very noble, but it was also very risky.


    He opened his mouth to say something and closed it. This was her trial. Her test. Perhaps her sword had remained a sword because she knew exactly who she was. There never had been a choice for Chari. Who was he to criticize her when his own trial had gone so wrong?


    Chari was still smiling when a scroll case appeared floating in the air before her. She must have known from his tale what it contained. She reached for it, and wrapped her hand around it. It didn¡¯t burst into mist as his did. It just vanished as if it had never been there. He didn¡¯t hear anything, but she apparently did.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°My first skill,¡± she breathed.


    ¡°What did you get?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called Puncture. No prizes for guessing what it does.¡±


    In spite of his earlier thoughts, Eric found a smile for her. ¡°Congratulations, Chari. You were amazing.¡±


    ¡°I was, wasn¡¯t I?¡± she replied.


    He waited to hear what she thought about his contribution to the fight, but she didn¡¯t mention it. Of course she didn¡¯t. She¡¯d just gotten her first skill. This was her transition. He smiled again, remembering his own incomplete transition and knew exactly what she was feeling. He absolutely wasn¡¯t going to make this about him. He¡¯d be here for her, and do what he had to do to protect her.


    The symbol on his shield grew brighter, and he bowed his head. Sheba had chosen to show her approval, a thing he vowed he would never take for granted.


    *


    King Terrence sat on a garden bench, enjoying a rare moment of peace. With Eric away at his transition, and negotiations not due to resume till later in the afternoon, it was a welcome respite. He breathed deeply, enjoying the fall air. If his kingdom had been further north, it might have been chilly, but the day, which had started off dreary, had turned itself around. The sun had come out to warm him, and he basked in it. He really didn¡¯t get enough time outside.


    He heard someone approaching and turned his attention to the sound. Queen Rhea walked slowly up the path, taking in the gardens. It was too bad she couldn¡¯t have seen them in the spring, when they were at their most impressive. It seemed like they had both had the same idea. She hadn¡¯t noticed him yet, and he wondered if he should sneak away and leave her to her outing.


    But then she looked in his direction and smiled. ¡°Good morrow, King Terrence. I had not realized you¡¯d be out here.¡±


    King Terrence stood and bowed respectfully. ¡°Queen Rhea. A pleasant surprise. Come sit with me, if you wish.¡±


    ¡°Just Rhea, please. I don¡¯t feel the need for formality when I¡¯m not at court.¡±


    ¡°Rhea then. And you can call me Terrence.¡±


    She sat beside him and took a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful here. Autumn is colder in Melar.¡±


    Terrence nodded. ¡°I passed through Melar twice, on my way to and from the Undead War. I wish I¡¯d had time to get to see the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d fought in the war. Leonid isn¡¯t much of a warrior himself, but he sent forces.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to be there with my men.¡±


    ¡°Of course you did. Tell me, do you ever get tired of it?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    She turned her attention from the sky to his face. ¡°Being the hero. The one people look up to. Maybe you don¡¯t realize your reputation in other places, but Leonid didn¡¯t choose Prince Eric randomly as a suitor for our daughter. Eric is a fine young man, but it was your reputation that drew us here. King Terrence, the warrior king. Your contribution to the Undead War, not just in forces, but your personal contribution, it¡¯s a thing of legend.¡±


    ¡°Does that include the part where I almost died?¡±


    ¡°It does. To hear it told, anyone else would have. People say you¡¯ve been blessed by Sheba. Some people even compare you to Arimen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s blasphemy. Arimen is a demigod.¡±


    ¡°Actually he¡¯s not. Arimen is or was an immortal. Gods and demigods rule over aspects of existence. Sylinar¡¯s domain is healing. Se Karn¡¯s domain is death. Arimen, never having been gifted an aspect of Sylinar is simply immortal.¡±


    ¡°I forgot you revere Mitra.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t come up much. As an immortal, Arimen wouldn¡¯t naturally die, but it was possible that something killed him.¡±


    Terrence¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Something killed Arimen?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s possible. We don¡¯t know. We¡¯re not even sure that he¡¯s dead. Not even the gods know.¡±


    Terrence blinked. ¡°The gods don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°If he had died on most of Mysandrika, then they would. But the gods have never been able to penetrate the veil that surrounds the Plains of Xarinos. They have no idea what goes on behind its borders. If that is where he eventually died, the gods wouldn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s seems unlikely.¡±


    ¡°There are many unlikely things that are true. Arimen may or may not have died in the Plains of Xarinos or died at all. We only know that the gods can¡¯t find him, at least according to the Priesthood of Mitra. Regardless, since Arimen is neither a god nor demigod, it¡¯s not actually blasphemy to compare you to him. Some people have suggested you might be him. By all accounts, you took a spear to the side and should have died, and yet here you are, alive and walking around as though it had never happened.¡±


    ¡°I got lucky.¡±


    ¡°All this and modesty too,¡± she grinned. ¡°Treya is a lucky woman.¡±


    Terrence laughed. ¡°Sometimes she thinks that too, but probably not very often.¡±


    ¡°Oh I think you¡¯d be surprised. Speaking of which, I was surprised you were so open about your second son.¡±


    Terrence shrugged. ¡°Treya had been wanting to adopt Dahr for a long time, but I resisted for obvious reasons. Then the High Priest of Sheba told us we were to adopt him, so that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. We were just waiting until Eric¡¯s transition was completed. If Sheba wants him acknowledged than I have no shame in doing so.¡±


    ¡°Your whole family seems blessed by the goddess. No wonder people say you¡¯re a legend.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my sons who are favored. And I¡¯m proud of that. Eric and Dahr are both more than I could have hoped for.¡±


    ¡°And Dahr¡¯s mother?¡±


    ¡°She died of an illness a couple of years back. I promised her I¡¯d care for him.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a good man, King Terrence of Twyl. We¡¯d be lucky to have you as an ally. But you already know that.¡±


    ¡°I think we¡¯d be lucky to have each other. I feel like you¡¯re leading to something, but I fear I¡¯m more direct than you. You¡¯d have to talk to Treya if you want to spend the rest of the morning dropping hints.¡±


    Rhea laughed. ¡°I really wasn¡¯t. I guess I¡¯m just curious. The House of Rowan is such a straight forward, honest band of warriors. Melar is very different. I know why my husband wanted an alliance with you, but I can¡¯t imagine why you¡¯d want an alliance with us. It doesn¡¯t seem to fit your reputation. I¡¯d honestly expected you to go with one of the kingdoms in Karmenon.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see. Rhea, your husband isn¡¯t particularly fond of or nice to Andara. I assume you know this.¡±


    Rhea looked a bit embarrassed but nodded anyway. ¡°Yes, well, he is a simple man. He still sees the Andarans as little more than barbarians.¡±


    ¡°I know. But I¡¯m allied with several tribes in Andara as well, and if I can get something resembling peace on your border, which it seems both they and your husband want, maybe, just maybe, I can bring stability to the whole region.¡±


    Rhea looked astonished. ¡°You¡¯re doing this for Andara?¡±


    ¡°And Melar. I think everyone benefits from it.¡±


    ¡°Everyone but you.¡±


    King Terrence smiled. ¡°Everyone benefits from stability, Rhea, even if you can¡¯t see that benefit immediately.¡±


    Rhea smiled. ¡°I can see why people might think you¡¯re Arimen. Human kings don¡¯t act like this.¡±


    ¡°In the end, kings are just men. I¡¯m trying to make the world better, because my sons have to live in that world. I may be a king, but I¡¯m a father as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad we met today. Don¡¯t let my husband get away with giving too little just because you want stability. You¡¯re in a strong position. Get something for yourself.¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me this? How does it benefit you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it doesn¡¯t, not directly. But I think maybe we need more kings that think about stability instead of thinking about wealth and power.¡±


    ¡°We understand each other then. I¡¯m sure whatever deal we reach will benefit both of us. I want peace in Andara, and I¡¯m not willing to sacrifice that point in any negotiation. But that doesn¡¯t mean there isn¡¯t more on the table to discuss. I have a lot to offer. I¡¯ll get everything I need out of this. You can bet on that.¡±


    She looked him in the eyes, and nodded once. ¡°I believe it. In spite of the stories, I think I¡¯ve underestimated you. There¡¯s a strength and a determination there that will not be denied. I imagine you don¡¯t have a lot of trouble getting what you want.¡±


    ¡°With everyone but Treya. Don¡¯t tell her I said so though.¡±


    ¡°Not a word.¡±


    The two sat for a long time, enjoying the sun, but didn¡¯t talk much after that. It was a companionable silence that lasted until a page ran up to remind the king that there was still work to be done.


    *


    Dahr sat cross-legged on the ground in the practice yard, watching a few of the guards spar. Kalutu sat beside him, apparently riveted to the combat. At least Dahr thought he was riveted. His huge, round eyes stared at the guards, but Dahr couldn¡¯t be sure he wasn¡¯t reading more into that expression than was actually present, having had little experience with were-owls. So, he joined the familiar in watching, but his mind wasn¡¯t following the action. Instead he was thinking. He knew people had classes and skills. And he knew some people were Warriors while others were Mages or Healers, or even various types of crafters, but he had never heard of a Nexus before, nor had anyone else if George was to be believed. It was a new class. His class. He was the only one.


    What kind of skills would he get? He knew he had been able to summon a familiar, but it seemed unlikely he¡¯d be able to summon another. Every story he¡¯d ever heard about a mage with a familiar spoke of a single summons. Was he some sort of mage? He didn¡¯t feel like one. He didn¡¯t feel like he¡¯d cast a spell. He didn¡¯t feel different at all.


    Another thing that seemed odd to him was getting a class before Eric. Eric was older, had been in training longer. How was this fair? He worried that Eric would be upset about it, but that hardly mattered now, since he didn¡¯t dare tell anyone. Would people think he didn¡¯t have a class or level? No that wasn¡¯t right, Veloran had told everyone he had transitioned.


    In the press of having royal visitors, no one had thought to question him about it yet, and he needed to be able to answer whatever questions were put to him without raising suspicions. He also didn¡¯t want to lie, particularly to the king and queen. Yet George had warned him against telling anyone. Maybe it had just been a dream, but he didn¡¯t think so. Anyway, what kind of name was George for a powerful being from the Other Realm?


    Dahr thought long and hard but couldn¡¯t decide what to tell people when they finally got around to asking. Perhaps they wouldn¡¯t think to ask at all. It was possible, right? Even Eric hadn¡¯t asked yet, but then he was busy with Princess Chari, who made Dahr nervous. Dahr was used to dealing with women, but he knew very few girls his own age, or close to it. And she seemed a bit dangerous to him, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. The issue was, he saw himself as the mouse.


    He looked up at Kalutu, whose eyes hadn¡¯t left the action.


    ¡°You like watching them,¡± he said finally.


    ¡°I do. But more than that, I need to learn how to fight. Without that, I¡¯m not much use to you, I fear.¡±


    ¡°Am I useless?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°Of course not!¡± Kalutu finally looked away from the fighting, turning his attention to Dahr.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to fight,¡± said Dahr. ¡°I¡¯ve never taken a lesson. Does that somehow lower my value?¡±


    ¡°No, Dahr, of course not. But you¡¯re the son of a king. You live in a palace. I live by your sufferance¡­ well yours and Prince Eric¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°And I live by the sufferance of the king. I¡¯m a bastard, after all. Should people think less of me?¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡±


    ¡°Then why should people think less of you? You don¡¯t live by my sufferance, Kalutu. You¡¯re my familiar. We¡¯re bonded. I will always protect you. You will always have a home with me, no matter what happens.¡±


    Kalutu looked awed. ¡°You are magnanimous.¡±


    ¡°And you use big words, for a familiar anyway.¡±


    ¡°Truly?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± said Dahr. ¡°You¡¯re the first familiar I¡¯ve ever spoken with. But you¡¯re my familiar and that means something. Be proud, Kalutu. We¡¯re all low level, but we¡¯ll learn, and so will you. You have my word.¡±


    Kalutu bowed low, which was a decent effort, seeing as he was sitting. Then he turned back to watch the guards spar.


    Dahr found himself wondering if a familiar could get a class or levels. Surely not. How could a familiar possibly level, when they would be bound to a master who was already bound to a specific god? Perhaps Kalutu would gain power when Dahr gained levels. It seemed likely he¡¯d be linked to Dahr more directly than to Eric, since Sheba had told Dahr that he had summoned Kalutu and then shared him.


    He thought about Eric then, in the Other Realm, completing his transition. He¡¯d gain a class, know his skills and be filled with pride and joy. He¡¯d be happy for Eric. Dahr smiled wistfully. If only he could somehow figure out what skills his strange profession offered him.

 Chapter 8 - Meanwhile in the City of Tarlet

    Sixth of Learning 1142


    The Dancing Moth, a tavern in the city of Tarlet, never closed and never quite emptied. There was always someone present. Merchants arriving late at night, their caravans delayed by bandits, creatures or weather. Adventurers who came to drink after their successful forays into the wild places, or after their failures. Hard working locals who came to relax or escape after a day of labors. And of course, the men who preyed on such folk. Merck Vanderoth was such a man.


    Merck was a Level 4 Swindler, though a successful one. He compensated for his lack of levels with bravado and daring that would put even the bravest adventurers to shame. Those who knew him, or knew of him, were aware of his reputation, but none knew what was behind it. It had less to do with daring and more to do with sizzle.


    Sizzle was a narcotic made from a rare plant that opened the mind to the most amazing dreams. It was also extremely addictive, which didn¡¯t bode well for a low-level Swindler, who needed more and more money constantly. His earlier conquests fed his confidence. His addiction fed his ego, and his need for gold kept him hungry for more. As such it was inevitable he would be caught. But being caught wasn¡¯t the end of Merck¡¯s tale, it was merely the beginning, rocky though it was. This is the story of a low-level swindler, who made a deal with exactly the wrong people on exactly the right night.


    The Misfits of Karmenon was a team of adventurers who traveled about doing adventurer things¡ªguarding caravans, rescuing hostages, killing monsters and drinking taverns dry between. So it was, one particularly dark night, they found themselves in The Dancing Moth, enjoying a round of drinks courtesy of a successful foray into a trodara lair. The monsters had been killing and gathering loot for a long time, and most of that loot, the most valuable (and all the Misfits could carry) had returned to the city with them. The Misfits were enjoying an evening of boasting and celebration, when they happened to run into Merck Vanderoth.


    The Misfits of Karmenon was a group of five adventurers, none of whom had been born in Karmenon. The original group of that name had been, and over the years, members had either died or had moved to other groups, until none of the original members were left. But adventurer teams seldom changed names, whether they changed members or not, because names get known, and if your team is known it¡¯s easier to get work. None of the current members knew that Ishranith Lenis, the original team leader, had wanted to name the team Pride of Karmenon, but it had already been taken. So had several other names he had tried and so he eventually settled on Misfits in a fit of frustration. It never suited the originals as well as it did the current roster ¨C two humans, a serpent lord, a salad, and a phase shifter, a truly unusual collective. Even for adventurers they were an odd grouping. In spite of this, they ended up being fairly well known, at least locally, not only because they were frequently successful, but because they often spent much of their earnings buying drinks for the locals.


    Ressssen was a serpent lord and leader of the Misfits. Her mage cloak concealed most of her scaled body, but her long, graceful neck supported a head that would have looked perfectly at home on a cobra. Males of the species had somewhat shorter necks comparatively. Of course, Ressssen was a serpent lady, but the race was still called serpent lords due to the inaccurate belief that they could control any snake they came across. This rumor was derived from the habits of serpent lord mages acquiring snakes as familiars.


    Like many of her kind, Ressssen was a mage, and a Level 8 one at that, the highest level on the team. She knew quite a few useful spells, though it¡¯s fair to say that they were far more useful when she was sober which, unfortunately for her, had ceased to be the case many hours ago.


    She scanned the bar for the rest of her team. Borin and Dreek weren¡¯t anywhere to be seen, which was unsurprising, as neither of them drank alcohol in any form. Borin was a salad, and it would hurt him, and Dreek simply wasn¡¯t affected by drink, though he could consume it and sometimes did to be polite. She didn¡¯t see Trace at first but then she did, off with the best-looking man in the establishment, looking impressed as he told her some story. Ressssen sighed, though she was used to it. Trace was a successful adventurer, but she had little confidence in her dealings with the opposite sex. Every time she got some drink into her, she¡¯d find some attractive local to fawn over. It wouldn¡¯t be long before the two of them disappeared into her room.


    Garne sat at the table with Ressssen, bleary eyed from too much drink, dark brown hair disheveled, beard and mustache needing to be cut. He looked morose, which is how he often got when he drank too much. There was tragedy in his past that Ressssen knew nothing about, but she never pried. People were entitled to their secrets. The gods knew she had hers.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look like a man who¡¯s come back to town in victory,¡± she said, trying to draw him into a conversation.


    ¡°Imagine that. What do I look like?¡± he asked, deep gravelly voice slurred.


    She considered him. ¡°Like someone whose wife ran off with all his gold and his best friend, who happened to be another woman.¡±


    Garne laughed, which was good, because that was what she had wanted from him. ¡°That sounds about right. My type of woman right there. She has her priorities straight.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how to answer that and looked around again to hide the fact. Trace was leaning over to the man now, whispering something in his ear. Ressssen shifted her view about the room, looking for the other two non-humans of her group, knowing she was unlikely to find them.


    And she was right. No sign of either Dreek or Borin. There was, however, a human man approaching. There was nothing about him that would draw attention, and it was only by chance that she noticed him. He was coming straight toward their table. She prepared to say something discouraging, well aware many human males were attracted to serpent lord females, but he forestalled her by walking up to them, not saying anything or even looking at her, taking out several potion vials and lining them up on the table in front of him. She stared at the vials and looked at the man with curiosity.


    ¡°What have you there?¡± she asked in her strangely accented Karmish.


    ¡°Healing potions. Good ones, apparently. I won them in a game of tesque, but don¡¯t really know what to do with them. I figure you could probably use them more than I, being an adventurer and all. I never leave the city.


    Garne joined the conversation. ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t catch your name. I am Merck Vanderoth.¡±


    ¡°You can call me Garne. How much?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea what they¡¯re worth to be honest. Again, I don¡¯t have any real need for them, and since you fine folks have been keeping me lubricated tonight, I thought I¡¯d ask you what was fair. I don¡¯t want to overcharge anyone.¡±


    Garne finally found a smile for that, and said, ¡°A gold coin for all of them is probably what they¡¯re worth.¡±


    ¡°That sounds fair to me,¡± replied Merck, who started to slide them across the table to the warrior.


    A scaled, clawed hand landed on his wrist, stopping him. ¡°We¡¯ve talked about this Garne. We don¡¯t take advantage of locals. That¡¯s at least two gold worth of potions, probably three.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind...¡±, began Merck, but Ressssen wouldn¡¯t hear of it. She reached into her pouch, dropped three gold coins on the table, and ordered another round of drinks for everyone. She was after all, very drunk, and they had done very well.


    Merck stayed for the drink and then faded into the crowd without anyone quite knowing where he¡¯d gone or remembering whether or not he¡¯d said good night. When he left the inn, he was smiling, because three gold was more than he dreamed he¡¯d get for those fake potions. He knew that it was unlikely they¡¯d need one in the city and so had time to plan his getaway. He¡¯d travel north, maybe to the capital where he could easily lose himself. But in the meantime, he had to see a centaur about some sizzle.


    *


    The Misfits of Karmenon usually got along well with the patrons of whatever tavern they happened to be in. The owners of the establishments loved them, because they spent their funds freely. The patrons loved to hear the tales of their adventures and drink the booze they thoughtfully supplied to everyone, and the barmaids fantasized about what it might be like to spend a night with a brave and strong adventurer, even one as surly as Garne. No one, however, fantasized about Borin, because he was a plant, and didn¡¯t have any sex organs that were compatible.


    Occasionally however, the Misfits ran into another adventurer, or sometimes a team, that thought they needed to be taken down a peg or six. It didn¡¯t happen often, but when it did, the repairs they had to help pay for cut deeply into their profits. Such was the life of an adventurer. And as fate would have it, on the night they were deceived by a Level 4 Swindler, they were present in the tavern when another team of adventurers arrived, looking to share tales of their own success. They had only recently returned to town and still stank of the road, and were still covered with gore, and they were tired, irritable, and needed a drink and a bed and particularly a bath. Unfortunately, The Dancing Moth didn¡¯t have any rooms left as the Misfits of Karmenon had taken the last of them.


    A warrior approached Garne, precisely the wrong member of the Misfits to engage with, and spoke in a tired, but friendly manner.


    ¡°Greetings, my friend. We are the Rat Wardens, a group of adventurers recently returned from the wilds, and we were hoping to bed here for the night, but it seems the last rooms were taken by your team. I was hoping to see if I could get one of you to relinquish your room and perhaps share with another member of your team, so we can get a bath and some rest.¡±


    Morosely, Garne looked up at the man. ¡°Rat Wardens? What kind of name is that for an adventuring team?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how that makes a difference, my good man. We¡¯re tired, it¡¯s late and we need a place to¡­¡±


    Garne cut him off. ¡°Try the basement. That¡¯s where you usually find rats, no?¡±


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


    ¡°Is it really so much to ask for you to give up a single room?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The man stopped, looked around the tavern, shrugged apologetically at the barkeep and punched Garne in the face as hard as he could. Garne wasn¡¯t ready for it, and in moments, the entire establishment was in pandemonium. Chairs were broken over backs, bottles over heads, and Garne, who was giving at least as good as he got, was happy they¡¯d purchased those extra healing potions, considering what his face felt like already.


    It was a brawl like every brawl. No one was trying to kill anyone else, so no one died, but at the end no one escaped without at least minor injury. By the time it was done, everyone was bruised and battered, but that was nothing next to what the furniture had suffered. Gold changed hands to pay for the damage, Ressssen agreed to share a room with Garne (much to his annoyance), and the Rat Wardens grumpily went upstairs to sleep off, not just the events of that night, but of the entire two weeks they¡¯d been away from town.


    It was, of course, at this point, that Garne made a startling discovery.


    ¡°Hey, Ressssen. I don¡¯t think these are real healing potions at all.¡±


    Ressssen¡¯s forked tongue darted angrily from her mouth. ¡°Is that so? Get the otherssss. We have a debt to ssssettle.¡±


    Garne stood unsteadily, though at this point it was likely from several blows to the head rather than the booze. He walked to the bar, where Trace sat alone. He didn¡¯t think of her as Trace though. Everyone in the Misfits called her Striker.


    She regarded him with the look one gives a five-year-old for tracking mud into the house.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your friend?¡± he asked cheerfully, much happier after being able to vent some of his anger at someone who was swinging back.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t like the looks of that brawl, and so he left. My guess is he won¡¯t be back. My guess is this means I¡¯ll be spending tonight alone. Unless you¡­¡±


    ¡°My guess is you¡¯ll be spending tonight helping us track down the man who swindled us out of three gold.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Garne grinned. ¡°Come on, Striker. That has to be better than spending a night with that loser.¡±


    ¡°How do you know he was a loser? You didn¡¯t even talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Well, was he?¡±


    She blew out her breath. ¡°Fine, yes. He was eye candy. He was what I needed tonight. You know what I don¡¯t need tonight?¡±


    ¡°Birth control?¡±


    She punched him in the shoulder, and he winced. He always forgot how much stronger she was than she looked.


    ¡°No! What I don¡¯t need tonight is missing sleep to track down some guy you shouldn¡¯t have been dealing with in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Then complain to Ressssen. She was the one who paid him.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well that¡¯s okay then.¡±


    ¡°Oh sure,¡± Garne grumbled, ¡°when Ressssen does it it¡¯s fine. When I do it, it¡¯s an inconvenience.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you understand. I usually have to explain things to you more than once.¡±


    Garne shook his head but laughed. ¡°I¡¯m going to get the others. Get ready to go.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Garne turned away and shook his head. She¡¯d complain, but she¡¯d be there. Striker was always there when they needed her. It was one of the reasons she was so valued, even though she was lower level than the rest of them.


    He walked up the stairs, stopping in front of Dreek and Borin¡¯s room, which they shared. It was a convenient arrangement since neither of them actually slept. He knocked. Dreek stuck his head through the door without opening it.


    As a phase shifter Dreek could vary his physical appearance, which he did often. The only thing he couldn¡¯t control as a shadow being was his color. Dreek was as black as the darkest night, no matter what form he took. At the moment he was wearing a beret and sported a long, thin mustache that was only barely visible, being the same color as the rest of him.


    ¡°Yes? Oh hi. Borin was just telling me a story I don¡¯t understand, about people I don¡¯t care about. I hope this is more interesting.¡±


    ¡°We need you both. We have a thief to track down.¡±


    ¡°Contract?¡±


    ¡°Revenge. He stole from us.¡±


    ¡°So, not a smart thief. I¡¯ll get Borin.¡±


    The head disappeared back behind the door, and Garne, who¡¯d seen it before, scowled.


    ¡°I need a new team,¡± he muttered as he returned to the tavern proper.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the entire team had gathered, carrying their gear. They were all different, but at that moment, they were a single entity focused on the task at hand. Whoever this thief was, he would pay, for no one steals from the Misfits of Karmenon.


    And so it was, the Misfits paid up their tab, finished their drinks and set out into the night.


    Unfortunately for Merck, one of the team members, Dreek, was a phase shifter, and most phase shifters were excellent trackers, particularly if they had access to something you¡¯d handled. Dreek took one of the fake potions, closed his hand around it, then handed it back to Ressssen. Then he left the establishment and disappeared into the night. Though Merck didn¡¯t know it, fate was about to pay him a visit he would never, ever forget.


    *


    Ressssen followed Dreek through the streets of Tarlet. Dreek, at the moment, looked like the silhouette of a powerful mage, with voluminous robes and even a staff. Ressssen understood the weapon to be part of his body rather than an item he was holding. The degree of control Dreek had over his shape never ceased to amaze her. Anyone who saw him would likely give him a wide berth, which was no doubt why the phase shifter had taken the form.


    Tarlet wasn¡¯t a large city but was still too big to be called a town. It wasn¡¯t the kind of place where you could hide for long if someone with a skill was tracking you. What kind of idiot rips off a team of adventurers so obviously in a place like this? Did he have a death wish?


    She tried to remember the thief¡¯s name, but it was beyond her. She hadn¡¯t yet sobered, but she wasn¡¯t quite as drunk. She followed the phase shifter through the dark streets, away from the center of town. Though humanoid, Dreek was more like a shadow than a flesh and blood being, but he was physical at least some of the time. Dreek was the Misfits tracker and scout. He had a lot of talents, not the least of which was finding traps and hidden rooms. Finding a single person in a place like this would be child¡¯s play for him.


    Behind her, the three other members of the Misfits followed. The last member of the group, a human, brought up the rear. Her name was Trace, but everyone called her Striker, because no matter what she aimed for, she always hit it. She was as good with a bow as anyone Ressssen had ever seen. Better even than people of a higher level. She was tall for a human, almost as tall as Ressssen herself, who with her long neck stood hands above most humans. Striker had short blonde hair, blue-green eyes and a thin frame without much shape to it. Still, it was clear to Ressssen that most men found her attractive. She¡¯d been called a tom boy by some, though Ressssen didn¡¯t understand what that meant. She didn¡¯t think it particularly pleased the girl, so Ressssen left it alone.


    She noticed Dreek waiting ahead of them in front of a two-story building. They hurried to him and crowded around. His voice was deep, melodic and seemed to come from everywhere when he spoke. She knew this was a trick of voice projection all phase shifters possessed, but it never ceased to unnerve her.


    ¡°He¡¯s inside. Top floor, in the back. How do you want to handle this?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s have some fun,¡± said Ressssen. Perhaps if she were sober she¡¯d have taken it more seriously, but she didn¡¯t think the thief was going to pose them much of a threat. ¡°Dreek, go scare him out. We¡¯ll wait down here.¡±


    Dreek didn¡¯t smile or if he did, there wasn¡¯t enough contrast on his shadowed face to show it. ¡°On it.¡±


    Dreek phase shifted, walked through the front door, climbed the stairs and passed through a wall into the room beyond. There wasn¡¯t much there. A bed, a chest of drawers upon which sat a clay basin filled with water, a lit candle, and a single window, shutters open to the night. And on the bed, propped up on pillows, sat a man he¡¯d never seen before. He used the Read Tether skill to check the man¡¯s class and level.


    A Level 4 Swindler. If only he¡¯d been downstairs with the rest of them, he could have warned them. Realizing this did nothing to improve Dreek¡¯s mood.


    The man looked up at him, and Dreek waited for him to react, but the man just sat there staring, as if seeing a shadow being appear in your room was the most normal thing in the world.


    *


    In his rented room, Merck Vanderoth lay on his bed, propped up on so many pillows he might as well have been sitting. If you were to describe him, you¡¯d have to say he was average in every way. He exactly failed to draw the eye. He wasn¡¯t a handsome man that you¡¯d look at twice, but he wasn¡¯t the kind of man you¡¯d look at because he failed to please either. His hair was short and brown, almost exactly the same color as his eyes. He was someone¡¯s carriage man or perhaps a cook. He wasn¡¯t weak looking, but he didn¡¯t look muscular either. He wasn¡¯t exactly thin, but he wasn¡¯t particularly overweight. All in all, he had a completely forgettable face and manner. He was almost as much not present as present, which served him well in his chosen profession.


    The sizzle had started to kick in, evidenced by the shimmer around the single candle in his room. The walls pulsed with barely detectable energy, and he heard the beginnings of whispers that came from all around him. Then a shadowy shape flowed through the wall in front of him. A ghostly humanoid, dark as a moonless night, featureless, and perhaps frightening. Merck wondered what it meant.


    The apparition stood in front of him waiting, for what, Merck couldn¡¯t tell. Was he supposed to talk to it? Perhaps that was it.


    ¡°Hello,¡± he said. ¡°Be welcome here.¡±


    The creature shook its head. ¡°Why do you not flee, mortal?¡±


    ¡°Why should I? Do you mean me harm?¡±


    The creature studied him before answering. ¡°You sold us bad healing potions. Of course we mean you harm.¡±


    Merck sat up straighter. An interesting turn of events. Was he developing a conscience? Surely not. It was too late for such things. So why did this hallucination seem to blame him for something he had never had an issue with. He didn¡¯t know and decided to ask it.


    ¡°Are you here to chastise me then? Am I to reform my criminal ways?¡±


    The shadow looked, if it could be said to display any sort of emotion, flabbergasted. ¡°Enough.¡±


    The shadow reached out a hand, slowly, menacingly, but Merck just sat and watched, wondering what would happen when it reached him. And then something happened that had never happened before. The illusion grabbed his wrist.


    For a long moment, mind clouded by sizzle, Merck stared at the shadowy hand grasping him. This was some good stuff. Unless...he looked up again at the apparition and did something completely unexpected. He started to laugh.


    The creature did nothing until the laughter faded, apparently happy to wait. When Merck finally caught his breath, he spoke.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a hallucination, are you?¡±


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s really bad,¡± said Merck and he broke into hysterical laughter again.


    ¡°Where is our gold?¡±


    Merck nodded, though he was still chuckling. ¡°It¡¯s right here,¡± he said, pulling a pouch from his belt. He handed it to the shadow man, who took it hesitantly, perhaps expecting a trap of some sort. While the man studied the pouch, Merck kicked out, pushing him back, and leapt out the open window. Under the effects of sizzle, all things seemed possible. Merck fell from the second story of the building, somehow landed on his feet and took off, using a skill as soon as he found his focus.


    ¡°Fast Forward,¡± he whispered, and suddenly he was running faster than any human could possibly run unaided. Even a horse would have had trouble keeping up with him. He wasn¡¯t far from the edge of the small town and he left it now, charging blindly into the wilderness in an attempt to discourage anyone from pursuing him.


    *


    Dreek held the pouch of what felt like and sounded like coins in his hand, surprised at how easy it was to get their money back. Perhaps they wouldn¡¯t have to hurt the fellow too badly, not that it was his choice. Ressssen would decide, and he¡¯d go along, not only because she had successfully led them this far, but because she had a better understanding of most races and how they worked than he did. Put him in an underground warren filled with dangerous creatures and insane traps, and he was right at home. Put him in a city filled with other races, and he was as out of place as a virgin in a brothel. At least he thought that was the case. He¡¯d never been to a brothel.


    Such were his thoughts, when the man lashed out with a foot and kicked him off balance. He staggered backwards and stumbled, which didn¡¯t happen often. As he was finding his feet, he saw the man he¡¯d been sent to terrify leap from the window. He ran to it, and the thief was already making his way down the street. How? He was only Level 4, after all. He should have been no match for a Level 6 Scout.


    Dreek had a decision to make. He could pursue the man, or he could return to the others and let them know what had happened. The decision was made for him as he watched, when the man, suddenly and inexplicably, sped away at a speed Dreek couldn¡¯t hope to match. He opened the pouch in his hands and found it only had a few small stones in it, no coins at all. But it felt and sounded like coins clinking together. He used a skill to detect magic on the bag and sighed, a bad habit he¡¯d picked up from humans. Phase Shifters he knew never sighed.


    Resigned, he stepped out of the window and floated down to the ground. Then he walked around to the front of the building, where his team was waiting.

 Chapter 9 - Classes and Skills

    Sixth of Learning 1142


    They left the scorpion behind and continued through the woods. Like his first foray into the Other Realm, there was no sun in the sky. The light filtered evenly through the trees with no apparent source. Was there no night here? Or were there areas that were perpetually dark, where day never arrived? He was going to bring it up, when a more pertinent question popped into his mind, interrupting his train of thought.


    ¡°How do you know which way to walk?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You seemed pretty confident setting off like you did.¡±


    ¡°Well sure,¡± replied Chari. ¡°This place is no more than a testing ground designed by Sheba to see if I¡¯m worthy. Whatever is supposed to happen is going to happen no matter which way I go.¡±


    Eric blinked. It was so obvious. Why had he not thought of that? Did he need direction so much? Was he a follower, not a leader? If that were the case, how would he ever be king? The answer, of course, was right beside him.


    His father was the driving force behind what happened in the Kingdom of Twyl, but his mother was usually the one who questioned everything, thought everything through, set boundaries or brought up alternatives to his father¡¯s propensity to face every problem directly. His father wasn¡¯t the most subtle man. Where his natural inclination was toward a direct solution to problems, it wasn¡¯t always the best course. His mother was a better diplomat. A better mediator. His father had told him so on more than one occasion. He didn¡¯t rule alone, they ruled together.


    He was more like his mother, and Chari was more like his father. The thought made him chuckle.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± asked Chari.


    Slightly embarrassed at the train of thought, he changed the subject. ¡°Nothing really. You know, since we¡¯re eventually going to be married, perhaps we could use this time to learn about each other.¡±


    ¡°Now? Is this really the place?¡±


    ¡°What place could be better? We¡¯re sharing a dream, Chari.¡±


    She thought about this and finally replied. ¡°Okay. You go first. Tell me something about you most people don¡¯t know.¡±


    This was an easy one, and Eric answered immediately. ¡°I take medicine every night.¡±


    Chari couldn¡¯t keep the surprise out of her voice. ¡°Really? Are you ill?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly. You may have noticed there aren¡¯t a lot of kids my age, or even Dahr¡¯s age around the palace.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t, but now that you mention it...why is that?¡±


    ¡°Many years ago, before I was born, a terrible sickness swept through Rish, and many young children died. It was a dark time.¡±


    ¡°Did they ever find out what caused it?¡±


    ¡°Eventually yes, but the death toll was quite high. It was traced back to an alchemist at the palace, a man by the name of Larish. He was experimenting on krell, which is where most nobles get their milk. Is it the same in Melar?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°Right, so you¡¯ve seen them. Larish had been trying to increase the milk supply, but no one realized that low levels of magic were building up in the cows. Too low level to affect most adults, although even a few older folk got sick, but babies built up levels of magic in their bodies they weren¡¯t meant to have. No one caught it because it happened so gradually. I was lucky to survive.¡±


    ¡°What happened to the alchemist when they finally figured it out?¡±


    ¡°When Larish realized what happened, he took his own life. There¡¯s some disagreement about whether he was scared of the consequences of his actions or whether the guilt drove him over the edge. I guess we¡¯ll never know. But I think of him almost every time I take my medicine.


    ¡°So, is this something you need to stay alive?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, nothing like that. It¡¯s just that when I don¡¯t take them, I have horrible dreams, and I don¡¯t sleep well at all. I¡¯m exhausted the next day. The medicine helps me sleep at night. Some healers and mages at the palace have suggested my internal magic is slightly imbalanced.¡±


    ¡°Internal magic?¡±


    ¡°That may not be quite the right term, but they said there¡¯s ambient magic all around us, and some people are more sensitive to it. It can affect your dreams, sort of like the potion you take before your transition. Anyway, when I take the medicine, I dream but they seem more like normal dreams. I don¡¯t have constant nightmares.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a relief. You¡¯re lucky you survived.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°I wonder,¡± she thought, ¡°do you think that you might be...different from other people, considering the buildup of magic? Could that be how you¡¯re here right now? I mean I¡¯ve never heard of anyone entering another person¡¯s transition, but Dahr entered your dream, and you entered mine. Did Dahr get sick too?¡±


    ¡°Oh no. He¡¯s only been at the palace a couple of years now. He grew up pretty far away. He never drank krell milk till he got here.¡±


    Chari¡¯s face darkened. ¡°He didn¡¯t live in the palace.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t live in Rish.¡±


    ¡°So, your father sired him and then abandoned him.¡±


    Eric wanted to defend his father, but he knew Chari was right. ¡°Not completely. He kept tabs on Dahr and made sure his mother had plenty of money. But he also felt guilty for straying from his vows to my mother and didn¡¯t want a constant reminder around. He thought it would bother my mother.¡±


    Chari thought about that for a while. Neither spoke as they walked between the trees. Finally, she broke the silence.


    ¡°That¡¯s something my father never did. He didn¡¯t care who knew about his adultery. He didn¡¯t care what it did to my mother.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s terrible. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be. You didn¡¯t do anything. But my father has no shame. He thinks he can do anything he wants because he¡¯s king.¡±


    ¡°I was taught that being king meant the opposite. Because you¡¯re not bound by circumstance, you must be bound by honor and what is right. No one is going to make you do anything, so you have to be strong enough to make the right choice, even when it¡¯s hard. Even when you don¡¯t want to. It¡¯s why my father finally brought Dahr to the palace.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°His mother got sick and died. My father went and brought him back personally, though I understand that my mother agreed it was the only thing that could be done. Like she always says, doing the right thing isn¡¯t always the easy thing. Not for my father, who had to live with that reminder of his guilt every day and not for my mother, who had to live with the reminder of my father¡¯s infidelity.¡±


    Chari surprised him by smiling. ¡°Your mother seems to be handling it pretty well. She loves Dahr. I didn¡¯t believe it at first, but now I do. Your life...it¡¯s so different from mine. I was raised being able to do anything I wanted, and it always felt wrong to me. I think that¡¯s why I was drawn to Sheba. Honor gave me boundaries I wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere else.¡±


    Eric smiled. ¡°I can see that.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re magical. Literally magical.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡±


    ¡°No, you are. I mean how can you not be? You survived a higher level of magic, and now all these weird things are happening. It¡¯s not Dahr. He never drank the tainted milk, but you did, and you survived.¡±


    ¡°Sure, and because of that I have to take medicine for the rest of my life if I¡¯m to get a decent night¡¯s sleep.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it was worth it though.¡±


    Eric had never thought about that before. The medicine was a nuisance, and that¡¯s all he ever thought about it, but he also knew that he didn¡¯t want to go back to the nightmares.


    ¡°Maybe. I guess I¡¯ll never know.¡±


    Again the two lapsed into a companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Eric remembered a question he was supposed to ask.


    ¡°Hey! I told you something about me, it¡¯s your turn to tell me something about you.¡±


    Chari grinned. ¡°Okay. I can be a right bitch sometimes.¡±


    Before she could continue, a small spear fell just short of them. The second trial had begun.


    Eric immediately summoned his shield. Then they were everywhere, running between the trees¨C small, scaled lizard-like creatures that ran on two legs. As they moved, they reflected light, making them look like they were wearing rainbow armor. Some threw spears, but most had swords. There were dozens of them, moving quickly between the trees. Far too many for Chari to take on her own and, more than ever, Eric wished he had an offensive weapon.


    Most of the enemy ran toward Chari, perhaps because they felt a sword was more dangerous than a shield, or perhaps because this was her transition, not his. Regardless, Eric was not about to let the situation stand. He took a deep breath, shouted at the top of his lungs and charged into the middle of them.


    ¡°Come to me, little lizards. I¡¯m the one you want.¡±


    To his surprise, the vast majority of the lizards did turn to him, more than he thought he could deal with. Sure they were small, the tallest of them not even reaching his chest, but there were so many.


    Only now did he wonder what would happen if he died here. He was surprised he hadn¡¯t thought about it before. Surely it would mean failing the trial, but would injuries sustained here carry over to real life? Had he ever heard of anyone dying during their transition? He couldn¡¯t recall. Then they were on him, and he had no time for further reflection.


    He moved, whirled, dodged, blocked and swung his shield to damage his opponents. Few of their attempts got through, possibly because they attacked cautiously. If they¡¯d all charged at once, they would have certainly overwhelmed him, but that¡¯s not what happened.


    One or two would get brave at a time, and he¡¯d bash them away. Others, seeing their compatriots go flying, seemed content to brandish their weapons menacingly rather than attacking.


    ¡°That¡¯s all you¡¯ve got! I can do this all day!¡±


    He wasn¡¯t sure that was true, but he was happy to say anything to keep them both annoyed at him and scared at the same time. Chari had finished the few that had come after her and started attacking the ones surrounding Eric.


    He didn¡¯t have time to watch her technique, as he spun around, blocking attack after attack, but every time he risked a glance, there were fewer and fewer of them.


    Eventually, the group decided they were fighting a losing battle and the few survivors fled. Chari was relentless and pursued. She didn¡¯t return to him until she¡¯d finished the last of them off.


    ¡°Are you all right,¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, how about you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    Startled, he looked down at his body. On the side of his thigh, he¡¯d been nicked, though he hadn¡¯t felt it at all. He couldn¡¯t even imagine when it had happened. One of them must have gotten in a lucky blow.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay. It¡¯s just a scratch.¡±


    Chari nodded then cleaned off her blade on one of the bodies and sheathed it. She was all business.


    Out of nowhere, a scroll case appeared before her, and once again she grasped it, watching it dissolve in her hand.


    ¡°Oh interesting!¡±


    ¡°What did you get,¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Frenetic Defense. I could use a defensive skill.¡±


    Eric, who had assigned himself the role of defender, felt a bit put out, until he realized two things. She had never asked him to fill that role, and he might not always be with her. He smiled, forcing the negative thoughts from his mind. Then he was distracted by an approaching shape, a white wolf holding a silver scroll case in its mouth. He heard Chari¡¯s awed gasp but never took his eyes from the wolf.


    It approached him and sat, looking up expectantly. As soon as he grasped the case, it dissolved into gray smoke that seeped into him. Sheba¡¯s voice entered his mind.


    Congratulations. Your transition is now complete. You have earned the class Tank. You have reached Level 1. New skill unlocked ¨C Taunt. Some skills are offered to compensate for holes in your skill set. I strongly suspect mocking is not one of your strong points.


    Eric looked confused. What did that even mean? Mocking was not one of his strong points? Was Mocking even a good thing? He had been taught to be gracious in both defeat and victory. How was mocking someone at all honorable?


    ¡°Well?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just completed my transition. I¡¯m a Level 1 Tank.¡±


    ¡°What in the name of the gods is a Tank? And why aren¡¯t you glowing?¡±


    ¡°You know we don¡¯t actually see level flare until we¡¯re higher level. Some people never see it, but no one knows why.¡±


    ¡°I just thought, here in the Other Realm¡­ it seems like getting your class would be a big deal. You¡¯d think there would be some sort of indication. At the very least, I expected you to glow.¡±


    Eric shrugged, less concerned with level flare and more concerned with his unusual class and skill.


    ¡°Well, sorry to disappoint. Oh, and my final skill is Taunt. What kind of skill is that?¡±


    Chari shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I do know one thing. You¡¯re favored by Sheba. If you¡¯ve been given a rare class, she gave it to you for a reason. You have no reason not to trust the goddess. Her will rules in this place.¡±


    But Eric remembered what Sheba had told him earlier, that she was not the only being who had influence in the Other Realm, and he felt a pang of doubt. Yet surely whatever else lived in the Other Realm couldn¡¯t alter the skills he received from his goddess. He was thinking about the possible ramifications of his transition being interfered with, when Chari interrupted him.


    ¡°Eric!¡±


    The urgency of her words had him battle ready in a moment, but there was no panic on her face.


    Instead, she was staring down at his left hand. ¡°Your shield...¡±


    He looked down. His shield looked as it always had, glowing symbol and all, with one small difference. The unusual projection off the top of it was glowing and now that it was, it looked different to him. He reached down and grasped it, like a handle. As soon as he wrapped his hand around it, he understood.


    He pulled, and it slid free from the top of the shield. It was a double-bladed short sword exactly the same as the one in the chest he¡¯d opened in his own transition. Exactly like the one Chari carried, with one exception. Sheba¡¯s sigil glowed brightly on the sword¡¯s hilt. Eric had been blessed with a second holy weapon.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    His new skill left him feeling confused, and he had no idea what a Tank was, but that hardly mattered at the moment. Eric raised the sword in triumph. Chari stared at him, a look of shock on her face with maybe just a hint of envy, though she hid it well enough. He couldn¡¯t blame her. No one he¡¯d ever heard of had emerged from their transition with a holy weapon and he¡¯d been given two. The sword was part of the shield somehow. When he sheathed it again, it vanished into the shield, the odd protrusion the only evidence of its existence. He drew it and sheathed it several times, getting the feel for it, then took a few practice cuts.


    And of all the inane thoughts he could possibly have, the one thing that came to him at that moment was that he couldn¡¯t wait to get back to the palace to show Dahr.


    *


    Merck ran through the sparse woods as quickly as he could move without running into a tree. He dared not light a lamp but saw well enough by moonlight to navigate. He felt empowered by the sizzle. Unlike alcohol, it seemed to bring the world into sharp relief. He felt like he could run forever.


    He saved his run skill until he hit a clear section of the woods, then used it, staying ahead of pursuit his only priority. Part of him hoped he was wrong, and no one was after him, but Merck knew adventurers and was keenly aware the odds of them letting him escape after swindling them was relatively small. So, he kept running, trading the immediate safety of civilization for the potential dangers of the wilderness.


    Because of the sizzle, he wasn¡¯t afraid, but rather exhilarated. He moved with the certainty of a man who knew his destiny. Surely there was no way the adventurers could catch him with his running skill. They weren¡¯t some high-level team, after all. Yet, said another, wiser part of his mind, they did manage to track you down. What if they can still track you?


    It was a valid question and one for which he had no answer. Still, he wasn¡¯t scared. He ran faster, not tiring, not questioning the wisdom of his actions, though now that he thought about it, he wasn¡¯t quite sure where he was or where he was going.


    Still, it would be okay. He trusted the sizzle to do his thinking for him.


    *


    Ressssen had listened, while Dreek recounted his odd meeting with the man who¡¯d cheated them. Though she had known his class would be something akin to Swindler, she was surprised by his low level. There was no discussion about whether or not they would continue their pursuit. Ressssen could see it in each of their eyes. If it became known that an adventuring team was an easy touch, it would invite more such attempts in the future. Whoever this man was, they would catch him and make an example of him. She felt no sympathy for him. He had, as the humans of Death¡¯s Doorstep would often say, constructed his own casket.


    They had fallen into their running formation, which was different than their normal formation, because some of them were faster than others. But Dreek¡¯s position never changed.


    Dreek ranged ahead, out of sight, scouting and following the trail. He left green marks on the ground that glowed ever so faintly. If you didn¡¯t know to look for them, you might think you were hallucinating, but Ressssen had had enough practice and followed them with ease. And even if she couldn¡¯t see them, whenever her forked tongue darted between her fangs, she could taste Dreek on the air, and could tell not only the direction he traveled, but about how far ahead he was.


    Ressssen cast a spell under her breath as often as she could. It was called Pursuer¡¯s Advantage, and it allowed her entire party to move faster while in active pursuit of a target. It was a very effective spell, but it didn¡¯t last long and had a cool down that prevented her from casting it continually. Also, it took significant mana to cast, balancing out the utility of a spell that affected her entire party. All spells had limits, at least at lower levels. As she grew in power, the duration of the spell would be longer and the cost would start to drop, though gradually. Ressssen couldn¡¯t wait to reach Tier 2 and unlock stronger magic.


    The path took them through fields surrounding the town, which gradually gave way to sparse woods, growing somewhat denser as they progressed. They weren¡¯t just moving away from the city, but away from any human habitation.


    Striker put on a burst of speed until she was running beside her.


    ¡°Where do you think he¡¯s going?¡±


    Ressssen would have shrugged had she not been focused on maintaining her speed.


    ¡°Toward the swamp ruins, I think, though it is beyond my ability to comprehend why he might wish to go there. It is not safe for a Level 4 Swindler. It is not even safe for us. It makes me wonder if he knows something we do not. Perhaps there are friends waiting for him.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Striker. ¡°Should we abandon the pursuit?¡±


    ¡°If we turn back now, we might never find him again. This man has wronged us. I have no idea why I trusted him. I was drunk, it is true, but it was still such a stupid thing to do.¡±


    ¡°He probably used a skill. Swindlers have all sorts of advantages, and it¡¯s likely that the alcohol in your system made you more susceptible to it, even though it was a lower-level spell.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    ¡°The swamp ruins, huh?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯ve been in more dangerous places than this.¡±


    ¡°We have, but we were provisioned and prepared. This time, we are not.¡±


    Striker nodded. ¡°Have faith in us, Ressssen. We really are good.¡±


    ¡°I trust our team. It is the thief I do not trust.¡±


    There was nothing else to say, so Striker fell back, and Ressssen missed her immediately. Striker had a calming effect on her, and she could use some of that now. Still, there was probably nothing to worry about. The thief was only Level 4 after all.


    *


    They ran as they always ran, Dreek in front easily outpacing the others. Ressssen in second, her long-legged stride hidden beneath the voluminous folds of her mage robes. Striker¡¯s legs were also long and she kept up easily, moving as if she had been born to run. Borin lagged slightly behind, but never ran out of breath. Garne brought up the rear, panting, cursing and having a good time in general. Garne wasn¡¯t truly happy if he wasn¡¯t complaining about something.


    ¡°Will you bloody people slow down? You¡¯re not wearing armor, you thoughtless bastards.¡±


    Striker laughed. ¡°It¡¯s leather armor. I¡¯ve never heard anyone complain as much as you.¡±


    ¡°Sure. You only have to deal with me. I have to put up with you. Of course you¡¯re not complaining. I¡¯m amazing.¡±


    Striker shook her head. ¡°Amazingly slow, at any rate. Hey Ressssen, can you pick up the pace, Garne here says you can¡¯t run any faster.¡±


    Garne cursed again, but this time he was grinning.


    ¡°Striker, you know he didn¡¯t say that,¡± said Borin.


    Striker shook her head again. ¡°Borin, you have a lot to learn about humans.¡±


    ¡°Will you teach me, Striker? I want to understand.¡±


    Striker seemed to think about it. ¡°When I first started adventuring,¡± she replied, barely out of breath at all, ¡°I used to run with a small team. I was surprised that even in the most serious situations, we¡¯d joke around. The team leader called it banter. He said that the more stressful the situation, the more the need to keep it light. To break the tension. It helped relax us. Being tense takes energy. Being relaxed leaves you better prepared to act when the time comes to act, because you¡¯ll be sharper and more focused.¡±


    ¡°But if you¡¯re not paying attention, couldn¡¯t you be surprised?¡±¡¯


    ¡°Sure. But if you are paying attention, you could still be surprised. There are times when paying attention is very important. This isn¡¯t one of them. But we want to stay awake, and alert, so we banter. It doesn¡¯t take away from our ability to¡­¡±


    Striker dodged a rock that Borin tossed at her. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    ¡°I was seeing if you were correct. According to Dreek, you talk a lot of nonsense.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± asked Striker.


    Garne laughed. ¡°And here I was thinking Dreek didn¡¯t understand humans.¡±


    They continued running, sobering, closing the gap, but they still had a long way to go.


    ¡°When we catch up with that rat bastard,¡± said Garne, ¡°I¡¯m going to make him pay for every single step he made us run.¡±


    *


    Telisian moved effortlessly through the Other Realm, a dream amongst dreams. He¡¯d never before had any influence over the physical plane. Never before did he have a grasp of the affairs of mortals, though he¡¯d watched them often enough, finding entertainment in trying to puzzle out their trials and motivations. Dahr had changed that. Dahr had given him a foothold into the physical realm, and he intended to use it.


    Unfortunately, most humans were still beyond him, but that was not so with the one called Merck Vanderoth. Sizzle had allowed the Swindler to access the Other Realm. For the second time in three days, Telisian had come across a soul in the Other Realm and while this soul was attached to the god of thieves, it was a tenuous connection at best. Tharin had little hold on this creature, and so Telisian called out to the god. It didn¡¯t take long before Tharin replied.


    ¡°Telisian. What do you want from me?¡±


    ¡°Your creature, Merck Vanderoth. He does not please you?¡±


    ¡°He does not,¡¯ replied Tharin, ¡°though I can¡¯t imagine why that would be any of your business.¡±


    ¡°Would you consider releasing him?¡±


    Tharin considered. He had many worshipers tethered to him already, and losing Merck wasn¡¯t much of a loss at all. On the other hand, it wasn¡¯t his way to give away worshipers, even those that displeased him. ¡°Why do you want him?¡±


    ¡°I am playing a game with the goddess of honor. She thinks I don¡¯t understand the game, but she is wrong. Your Swindler is a playing piece.¡±


    ¡°You wish to pit yourself against Sheba? You are a foolish creature.¡±


    ¡°It is as you say, but you and I are both more connected to chaos than the goddess of honor. Let me have him, and I shall be a thorn in her side. Surely this doesn¡¯t displease you.¡±


    ¡°And what do you think you could possibly do to annoy Sheba?¡±


    ¡°I have already started manipulating events to plunge the world into chaos in such a way that the gods of order will not only go along with it, but will themselves aid in the process. You thrive on chaos, do you not, God of Thieves?¡±


    ¡°Indeed I do. How is it you intend to do this?¡±


    ¡°That I will not share, but it will happen. There will be chaos such as the world has never seen. It will reach every corner of Mysandrika.¡±


    ¡°You think you can do this?¡±


    ¡°I do. When all is said and done, Sheba herself will be the catalyst. I wonder how many of her precious followers will fall in what is to come.¡±


    Tharin chuckled. ¡°I find the thought amusing and have little use for the addict. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve been allowing him to level. You may have him. He had so much potential and squandered it. Perhaps now, he may have potential again. Either way, I will not be sad to see his tether severed.¡±


    ¡°He will have potential once I cure him of his addiction. Why did you allow him to become addicted?¡±


    ¡°I do not allow or not allow my followers to do anything. They act, I judge. They know my will and pay the price for not following it. I am not here to serve them, they are here to serve me. You would be wise to learn from this.¡±


    ¡°I am not like you, God of Thieves. I do not have the luxury of many worshipers. I have but a single tether and so must use whatever resources present themselves. Even a wretch like Merck Vanderoth will be useful to me, but I will think on all you have said, for you are old and wise. I thank you, Tharin, God of Thieves.¡±


    ¡°Do not thank me. Just do your best to vex the goddess of honor. That is the only payment I require.¡±


    Then the god was gone, and Telisian turned his attention to the matter at hand.


    *


    Late that night, Dahr and Kalutu walked through empty palace corridors. Eric had not yet returned, and Dahr was going to wait up for him. He passed the time attempting to explain the world to his familiar. Like Eric, he couldn¡¯t comprehend what coming from another world meant. What Dahr could understand was living in a large and complex world without knowing much. Dahr had learned a lot from Eric, but he didn¡¯t remember all of it, and some of it, he might be remembering wrong. Still, if Kalutu was from another world, as he claimed, he wouldn¡¯t know any of it. So Dahr launched into explanations of things as he understood them, with the caveat that he really didn¡¯t understand them very well, being not just a servant, but a boy. He hadn¡¯t seen much of the world.


    ¡°I originally come from Death¡¯s Doorstep.¡±


    ¡°Death¡¯s Doorstep? That sounds ominous.¡±


    ¡°It kinda is. It borders on the Undead King¡¯s realm. My mother owned an inn there. There was a war with the Undead King, and a lot of countries sent forces. Eventually we drove them back to their borders, but that¡¯s the issue. You can¡¯t fight a war on the Plains of Xarinos, or your dead soldiers will arise to become enemy forces. All you can really do is drive the undead back. No one has ever found a way to win against them. The best we can do is contain them.¡±


    Kalutu listened with interest. ¡°A war that can¡¯t be won, but you can¡¯t afford to lose? That must be expensive.¡±


    ¡°I never thought about that. Anyway, the Undead King took most of Death''s Doorstep, and people fled to Final Hope. Just about every country in the world sent soldiers to Final Hope to drive the undead out of Death''s Doorstep. There¡¯s another country nearby called Loralei, but they mostly keep to themselves. It¡¯s said they have reached some sort of understanding with the Undead King, and they leave each other alone. They didn¡¯t join in the war, on either side. No one trusts anyone who comes from Loralei though. There are all sorts of rumors about them.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Some say that the people of Loralei give all their dead to the Undead King, as long as he agrees not to attack them. A lot of people think it¡¯s not true though, since if the Undead King took Loralei, he would have all their dead anyway and probably a lot more of them. Anyway, the only reason people deal with Loralei is their healing potions.¡±


    ¡°Healing potions?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. They make really good ones. You don¡¯t hear about them this far away, but where I was born, people would talk about them. They were really expensive though.¡±


    ¡°So Loralei exports healing potions, but otherwise people don¡¯t trust them? Why would you buy a healing potion from someone you don¡¯t trust?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re really good that¡¯s all. If someone you didn¡¯t trust made the best wine, you¡¯d buy wine from them, right?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never had wine.¡±


    Dahr sighed. ¡°You get the point though. You wouldn¡¯t want to fight beside them, but you can still buy stuff from them. There are lots of countries that don¡¯t get along that sell to each other.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°I think so. Countries can be at war with each other and that still won¡¯t stop trade sometimes.¡±


    ¡°That sounds complicated.¡±


    ¡°I guess it is. I don¡¯t know much about it. Just something Eric said once. I guess I don¡¯t understand it either. You¡¯ll have to ask him about it. Anyway, we¡¯re in the Kingdom of Twyl now, which was conquered by Andara a hundred years ago, but they still remain separate nations. It¡¯s just that now they¡¯re not fighting each other. Then there¡¯s the Allied Kingdoms of Karmenon, they¡¯re a bunch of smaller kingdoms that have treaties with each other to protect each other, but they¡¯re all different countries, though many of them are quite small. They¡¯re strong because they fight together, but they sometimes fight each other too. Maybe not fight like in a war, but they have conflicts since there¡¯s not one ruler.¡±


    ¡°What about The Kingdom of Melar? That¡¯s where Princess Chari comes from, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t know much about¡­¡±


    A wave of dizziness swept over Dahr, and he stopped to lean against the cold stone castle wall.


    ¡°Dahr? Are you all right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just really tired. I think I should go lay down.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? Perhaps we should let someone know¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Dahr insisted. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay. It¡¯s very late, and I didn¡¯t sleep well last night. I just need to lie down for a bit. Come on.¡±


    They weren¡¯t all that far from the suite of rooms the boys shared, and they made their way there now. Kalutu kept a concerned eye on Dahr, but whatever had assailed him seemed to have passed, so he didn¡¯t say anything.


    When they reached the room, Dahr told his familiar he was going to bed. Without washing up, as he usually did, he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Kalutu alone in the anteroom.


    Dahr then lay down on the bed fully clothed. He was out almost before his head hit the pillow. And he dreamt.


    Dahr half expected to be in the same place he¡¯d been last time, but he wasn¡¯t. Instead, he was everywhere. He was in the Other Realm with Eric and Chari. Eric held both a shield and a sword in his hands. He struck a pose that he probably thought looked heroic, but Dahr thought looked kind of goofy, like he was trying too hard to look like a great warrior. Chari seemed impressed though.


    At the same time, he was following a man through a marshy area, through ruins. He couldn¡¯t see the man well, but he could tell the man was moving fast. He rose into the air and panned his view until he could see, far away, a group of five figures, and though he had no idea who they were, he knew they were somehow tied to the man beneath him. Pursuers possibly? From the speed and desperation he sensed from the man, he imagined they might be.


    And he was far, far away, on the Plains of Xarinos, surrounded by undead in every direction. Undead farmers. Undead soldiers. Undead merchants. Why would the undead need farmers? That made no sense. He didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it, because the man in the ruins had found a stairway going down and was descending below ground.


    He was with the man then, who moved through a series of rooms, before finally collapsing against a slime covered wall, breathing heavily. Dahr was there with him, watching, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Perhaps he should try to talk to the man. He opened his mouth, but it wasn¡¯t his voice that emerged.


    *


    Ressssen knew that the firmer ground would soon give way to mud or even shallow water, once they reached the edge of the swamp known locally as Mistmeer. There had once been a dungeon here, but adventurers had long ago cleared it out, which didn¡¯t necessarily make the area safe. Empty dungeons were often inhabited by creatures looking for a place to lair, which made it all too likely they were heading into danger. Danger they were ill equipped for in their current situation.


    She slowed and called a halt. The team gathered around her, all but Dreek who was likely too far ahead to hear the instruction. Garne was the last to arrive, and he didn¡¯t look happy.


    ¡°Why are we stopping? He¡¯ll get away.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ssss not going anywhere,¡± said Ressssen, firmly. ¡°But we need to rest up and prepare ourselves. There¡¯s no point entering the swamp without catching our breath first. The ruins are too close to where we are now to ignore the danger.¡±


    Striker nudged Garne. ¡°It¡¯s just like you. You complain when we run, and you complain when we stop. Is there a specific speed you¡¯d like to go that would keep you happy?¡±


    ¡°That guy ripped us off. I could have been sitting drunk in a warm inn, and now I¡¯m mostly sober in the woods in the middle of the night. I won¡¯t be happy until I smash that guy¡¯s face in.¡±


    ¡°None of us are happy,¡± said Borin, ¡°but Ressssen is correct. The ruins are ahead, and we must be cautious. Can we take a look at the dungeon while we¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°We are here for one purpose,¡± said Ressssen. ¡°We¡¯re neither rested nor well equipped enough to explore. We take the thief, bring him back to town¡­¡±


    ¡°After holding him upside down and shaking out our gold,¡± interrupted Garne.


    ¡°Yessss. We¡¯ll get our gold back and then turn him over to the authorities.¡±


    ¡°Do I get to beat him senseless?¡±


    ¡°Garne, if you beat him, we¡¯ll have to carry him all the way back. Are you volunteering for that job?¡±


    Garne looked sullen. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then we will get our gold back, and we will escort him back to town and let the authorities take care of him.¡±


    ¡°Just one good punch, then, that¡¯s all I ask.¡±


    ¡°Thisssss is not a negotiation.¡±


    ¡°You used to be fun.¡±


    ¡°You mean earlier tonight, when I was drunk?¡±


    ¡°Exactly ¨C wait, I heard something.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about time you noticed me,¡± said Dreek. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for a while. If I were a threat, you¡¯d all be dead.¡±


    Striker chuckled. Borin looked abashed. Garne had his sword half drawn, but Ressssen hadn¡¯t moved a muscle. ¡°You¡¯re our scout. If you can not approach ssssilently, we¡¯re paying you too much.¡±


    ¡°My point remains, I¡¯m not the only quiet creature that roams Mistmeer. It would be good to remember that.¡±


    They all knew Dreek was correct, and everyone grew serious.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°We¡¯ll walk for a while and keep our eyes and ears open. He shouldn¡¯t be too far ahead now, and in any case he¡¯ll need to slow down when he hits the swamp.¡±


    *


    Merck had run as long and far as he could, but finally had to rest. Surely, they wouldn¡¯t find him here. Not with the head start he had on them. He had collapsed against a wall in an underground room, breathing heavily. He tried looking around, but it was dark. He wasn¡¯t even sure how he found his way in, though he was pretty sure sizzle made his night vision better. Now though, he saw very little, until a voice that seemed to contain a bit of everything, spoke to him from somewhere in the darkness ahead, and a faint glow managed to form itself into the shape of a teenage boy.


    ¡°Merck Vanderoth. This is where your old life ends, and your new life begins,¡± said the apparition.


    ¡°It seemed to be the day for that,¡± he thought, then asked ¡°New life?¡±


    The boy was not glowing so brightly that he was clear to Merck, almost as if he were a ghost faintly trying to project himself from the other side. The boy continued talking.


    ¡°It is time. You need to find me, Merck Vanderoth. Find me, for you will be the one to end the undead threat.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? I can¡¯t end the undead threat! I¡¯m just a Level 4 Swindler.¡±


    ¡°Not anymore,¡± said the apparition, and it started to laugh. A laugh that contained everything in the universe. A laugh that was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Merck would desperately liked to have continued that conversation, but then the voice was in his head.


    You are no longer a Swindler. You may no longer access the following skills¨C Bamboozle, Forget Me, Obfuscate, Fast Forward, Engender Trust, Lie, Identify, Swipe. If you behave, I might provide you with a new skill or two. It¡¯s up to you.


    ¡°No! It¡¯s not possible.¡± But even as he said it, Merck could feel the truth. The skills he¡¯d once been able to access were now beyond his ability.


    ¡°Merck Vanderoth,¡± said the boy, even as he began fading from existence. ¡°You are about to learn that there is very little in this world that is not possible. Remember, you must find me. Everything depends on it.¡±


    And then he was gone, and Merck was alone in the darkness.

 Chapter 10 - A Change for the Better

    Sixth of Learning 1142


    The Misfits of Karmenon had left civilization behind to pursue a Swindler. Their path had taken them through dense forest and then into a swamp that the locals called Mistmeer. Though the swamp contained its share of dangers, the biggest danger was in the past, a dungeon that had been cleared by adventurers many years ago, and the place of power upon which it had been built. Though the dungeon had ceased to be the threat it once had been, the place of power remained a source of magic, and it was entirely possible that other creatures had since come to inhabit the dungeon or the ruins surrounding it, drawn by the arcane energy.


    The swamp had its share of trees, leading right up to the edge of the water. Because the depth of the water was not uniform, the misfits stayed as close to the shore as they could while still following their target. There were stands of reeds rustling in a breeze that was warm enough to allow insects to swarm. In colder weather they¡¯d have been spared that discomfort. Fall, it seemed, had not yet encroached on Mistmeer. Ressssen wondered if the magic from the dungeon contributed to the unseasonably warm weather.


    Ressssen was surprised at how quickly they had caught up to the man who had cheated them. Perhaps the Misfits were more comfortable moving through a swamp at night than he was. Well, most of them were comfortable. Dreek, Borin and Ressssen didn¡¯t mind getting wet. Striker didn¡¯t love wading through knee deep water but didn¡¯t complain. Garne complained, and everyone ignored him. For this particular team of adventurers, it was business as usual.


    The swamp at night would have probably scared most people, but the Misfits had seen their share of deserted wilderness areas, at all times of day, so they were cautious but not fearful. Dreek stayed with them now in case something attacked, but nothing did, apart from the ever-present mosquitoes. Night frogs, crickets and small wildlife moving through reeds were the only sounds. In the distance, they could see the ruins illuminated by the moon, which edged each broken stone with a faint silvery glow. The flagstones on the ground were mostly green with moss, and would no doubt be slippery when they reached them.


    The ruins, which they could now see in the distance, were little more than the skeletal remains of something that had once been. Arches, columns and stone pathways stretched far into the swamp. No one alive today knew what had once been here, or what had happened to it. The stonework, once detailed, was worn away, and the entire structure, what was left of it, was overgrown with hanging vines and other plant life. Trees sprouted through the broken ground, tearing away at what was left. And below, almost untouched, the dungeon lay, its corridors protected from flooding by ancient and powerful magics that no living mage could conjure.  In a thousand years, when the ruins were dust, the dungeon would still be there, protected from harm by spells that drew on the ancient power of the place. Ressssen couldn¡¯t see any of that detail from where she was. From this distance, it was just an army of dark and foreboding shadow soldiers standing at attention, blocking out the stars that should have been there. The Ruins of Mistmere told a story in a language no one could read.


    ¡°I never thought I would be back here,¡± she said.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been here?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°Before you were part of the team. Garne remembers.¡±


    Garne chuckled. ¡°Probably not as much as you think. I¡¯ve slept since then.¡±


    Striker shook her head. Dreek didn¡¯t say anything, he just moved ahead, leading the way toward the ruins. At least when they got there, they would be out of the water.


    ¡°It feels like it should be Se Karn¡¯s Day,¡± said Striker, after a while.


    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Borin.


    ¡°Statistically, it¡¯s the day you¡¯re most likely to see a ghost.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever seen a ghost?¡±


    Striker shrugged. ¡°Sometimes I feel like a ghost, if that counts.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re thin enough to be a wraith,¡± said Garne, grinning.


    Striker kicked her foot up, splashing him with swamp water.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that thin.¡±


    ¡°There are fat undead,¡± said Borin.


    They all stopped and looked at him.


    ¡°There are,¡± he insisted. ¡°When the Undead King raises you, you look exactly as you looked when you died.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Striker, ¡°that¡¯s enough of this conversation.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who brought up Se Karn¡¯s Day,¡± said Garne


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand what that is,¡± said Borin


    ¡°It¡¯s a Karmish holiday dedicated to the dead,¡± replied Garne. ¡°And I think the less said about it in this place, the happier I¡¯ll be. Also, Borin, I don¡¯t think that you¡¯re more likely to see a ghost on Se Karn¡¯s Day. It¡¯s just something people tell their children.¡±


    ¡°Why would they do that?¡± asked Borin.


    ¡°People tell their kids all sorts of things. In this case, I think it¡¯s to keep them busy looking for ghosts, while the adults fulfill their obligations. It¡¯s a somber day, and there¡¯s a lot of ceremony and children can get quite antsy. So it gives them something to focus on.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s disappointing,¡± said Borin. ¡°Striker, why would you tell me that I¡¯m more likely to see a ghost that day?¡±


    Striker shrugged. ¡°I had no idea it wasn¡¯t true. I¡¯m not from here, remember? We don¡¯t celebrate Se Karn¡¯s Day in Final Hope. I think they celebrate it here and in Twyl.¡±


    ¡°You know, I see ghosts quite often,¡± said Dreek. ¡°When I phase shift they¡¯re about sometimes. I don¡¯t often interact with them, because so many of them are insane. Some are quite nice though. Just not worth the risk really.¡±


    ¡°You speak with ghosts?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°When I have to. For what it¡¯s worth, there are no ghosts around here at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Would you expect any?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°Not really. Ghosts tend to spend more time around living sentient beings, not out here in the middle of the wilderness.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?


    ¡°They¡¯re lonely. Or angry. In any event, it¡¯s a good thing most people can¡¯t interact with them.¡±


    ¡°All right,¡± said Ressssen. ¡°Let¡¯s pay attention. We¡¯re getting close.¡±


    A loud splash startled them, but it was just an over-sized frog leaping into the water. A night bird shrieked in the distance. By the time they reached the edge of the ruins, unnecessary conversation had ground to a halt.


    They navigated the ruins like an experienced team of adventurers, but nothing more dangerous than mosquitoes assailed them. The trail brought them to an older section of ruins that still had a lingering aura from when something powerful had lived there. Whatever it was was gone now, probably long gone. Yet the reverberation of its existence was strong enough that they all noticed it. Then Dreek cried out. Ressssen was beside him in a moment. He stood at a stone stairway leading down beneath the swamp.


    ¡°What isss it?¡±


    ¡°We dare not descend. There is something down there. Something powerful.¡±


    ¡°But the thief desssscended, did he not?¡±


    ¡°He did.¡±


    ¡°Issss thissss an ally, I wonder?¡±


    ¡°If it isn¡¯t, he¡¯s done for.¡±


    They all turned to look at Ressssen. ¡°We wait. We will see what emergesss and deal with it then. Everyone, make sure you drink and eat something. Whatever comes, we want to be ready. Dreek, I need you to keep track of whatever¡¯sss down there.¡±


    Dreek nodded, but didn¡¯t say anything, so they all settled in to wait. No one spoke. Several shot concerned looks in Dreek¡¯s direction, but for once, the banter was noticeably absent. Ressssen kept half an eye on their surroundings, aware of how ironic it would be if some random creature attacked them while they were focused on the stairway, but nothing bigger than a frog came anywhere near them. Perhaps the wildlife in the area was intelligent enough to keep their distance from this place, which didn¡¯t reassure her. She had taken her own advice and had a bit of dried meat she had pulled from her pack, washed down with a bit of warm water.  And then, only minutes after he¡¯d first cried out, Dreek spoke.


    ¡°It...it¡¯s gone.¡±


    They all looked toward Ressssen, who was about to order them forward when she sensed movement from below. Ahead, a glowing figure started up the stairs. It took a moment for her to realize that the approaching human was the same man that had swindled her. He looked almost like he¡¯d leveled, but the residual glow that followed level flare made you look energized and healthy. This had more the feel of a malaise, despite the intensity.


    Ressssen had begun to see level flare when she had hit Level 5, but had never seen anything that looked like this. Then again she¡¯d never seen a thief level before. It may be this was normal for those who worshipped Tharin. It suggested a darkness of the soul.


    ¡°It issss you,¡± she said, expanding herself to her full height.  ¡°You owe ussss money. Three gold pieces, or pay the conssssequencessss.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have your gold,¡± replied the man without an ounce of fear in his voice.


    ¡°You are a liar and a thief. A Sssswindler.  Why sssshould we believe you?¡±


    ¡°I am a Swindler no more.¡±


    Ressssen glanced at the phase shifter.


    ¡°He¡¯s no longer a Swindler,¡± said Dreek, surprise in his voice. ¡°He¡¯s a Level 1 Priest.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked several of them at the same time, including Merck.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Priest?¡± he asked.


    Confused, the members of the Misfits of Karmenon all looked at each other before returning their gaze to the former Swindler.


    ¡°You are,¡± replied Dreek. ¡°How can you not know?¡±


    The man shrugged. ¡°I have no idea. I had a vision. Or a conversation with a being. An apparition. A boy, dressed like a noble or a royal.  I was told to find him. It all has to do with the undead threat.¡±


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    ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth,¡± said Dreek.


    ¡°I have been a liar and a thief. I regret that now. I regret that I stole money from you that I can not repay for I spent it on sizzle.  I can not change the past. But I can help end the undead threat if I can find that boy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not possible,¡± said Striker.


    Again Dreek spoke. ¡°And yet he speaks the truth. He, at least, believes this.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Garne groused, annoyed at how much he¡¯d been forced to sober up. ¡°I¡¯m just going to punch him.¡±


    Ressssen spoke quickly. ¡°You will do no ssssuch thing. If this man can really end the undead threat, he¡¯s worth far more than the gold I gave him. Tell me, Priest. Who is this god of yours?¡±


    Merck smiled sheepishly. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°How issss that possible?¡±


    Merck shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But your own team member said I¡¯m a Priest. Could I be one without a god?  Something touched me and changed my class, that much is clear. I didn¡¯t even know it was possible.¡±


    ¡°Nor did I,¡± replied Ressssen.


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°The only thing we can do. We¡¯re going to turn him over to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. We¡¯re too low ranked to make any kind of decision on a matter thissss important.


    Several of the group nodded, but Garne growled. ¡°Can¡¯t I just hit him once?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said the other four at the same time.


    ¡°I never get to have any fun,¡± said Garne.


    Surprisingly, Borin was the one who replied. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just cause a brawl?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­yeah. I¡¯d forgotten about that,¡± grinned Garne. ¡°That was a good fight. Ah well. We should get going. It¡¯s a long walk back to town.¡±


    *


    Dahr awoke in his room, bathed in sweat, and completely spent.  He remembered everything. Every word, every syllable. George had been talking through him. His throat felt raw, as if he¡¯d spent a long time screaming. His body ached like he¡¯d run for miles. He tried to sit up. His head pounded. He lay back down and tried to think.


    This whole thing was more than strange. He believed he really had talked to another man, far away, or at least George had. Why would George ask this stranger to find him without telling him where to look? It seemed unnecessarily cruel. Perhaps he had his reasons. He still wasn¡¯t sure what George was. He had never heard of a god named George, but then, George wasn¡¯t his real name. What kind of god wouldn¡¯t give a follower his real name? Her real name? The voice could have been either, or more accurately it was both. Okay, George was an it, Dahr could live with that. What he couldn¡¯t live with was not knowing. He closed his eyes again, and tried to pray to George, but nothing happened. He couldn¡¯t feel anything.


    He didn¡¯t even know if his patron was a god. He didn¡¯t know his own skills. He didn¡¯t know what was going on, and worst of all, he couldn¡¯t ask anyone.


    He thought about the vision. The man he had spoken to didn¡¯t look like much, but George had said he would end the undead threat. How was that possible and what, specifically, did that mean? Merck Vanderoth didn¡¯t look like a warrior or much of anything for that matter. He looked like a scared little man. And he¡¯d been a Swindler, though apparently that was no longer the case. What was he then? How could his god remove a class from another god¡¯s follower? Did that make George more powerful than other gods? The very idea was preposterous. And yet, he had removed Merck¡¯s class.


    Dahr felt a great sympathy for the man who, like Dahr, was clearly in over his head. Dahr had been touched by his god, was given a class no one had ever heard of, and didn¡¯t know his skills. He didn¡¯t know his god¡¯s name or what was expected of him. Merck was like him, except even more so. He had had a class, and now he didn¡¯t. He perhaps had a new class, but wasn¡¯t told what it was. Unlike Dahr, Merck had revered a god who, admittedly, probably wasn¡¯t the nicest of gods. Probably Tharin, the God of Thieves. Why would a man like that be able to end the undead threat?


    None of this made any sense, but who could Dahr ask? He couldn¡¯t bring anything this ridiculous up to anyone he knew. What would Eric say? Or Chari? They wouldn¡¯t have any more information than he did. They couldn¡¯t tell him anything. He was on his own with this.


    Dahr sighed. He would tell no one, not even Kalutu. It was a puzzle without enough pieces, and everyone already had enough to deal with. This was his burden, and he¡¯d bear it alone. The decision made, he forced himself to his feet and hobbled to the door. As soon as he opened it, Kalutu rushed to greet him.


    ¡°Dahr, you look terrible. Are you okay?¡±


    Dahr nodded, then thought better of it and shook his head. ¡°Listen to me, you can¡¯t tell anyone.¡±


    ¡°Tell anyone what?¡±


    ¡°Anything. Not what happened to me before I went to bed. Not that I came out looking like this. You can¡¯t tell a soul.¡±


    Kalutu looked disturbed but knew an order when he heard one. ¡°Very good, Dahr. I won¡¯t say a word.¡±


    ¡°How long have I been asleep?¡±


    ¡°Less than an hour, Dahr.¡±


    Kalutu was saying his name, but what Dahr heard was master. It unnerved him, but he didn¡¯t let it show. It was unlikely he could get his familiar to be less formal around him.


    Dahr ran a hand over his face, trying to wake up. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s get out of here. Eric will be back at some point, and I want to be available when he returns.¡±


    *


    Eric and Chari walked side by side through the seemingly endless forest. They¡¯d defeated two challenges so far, and Eric finally had a sword, which made him happy indeed. He was happy right up until they encountered the giant.


    He had thought the one-eyed creature in his own trial was large, but he had been mistaken. The third trial, and the large clearing it stood in, appeared before them suddenly as always, but this giant was as big as a house. Even bigger. It stood on two legs, wearing nothing more than a loin cloth. It had to be close to two stories tall.  Eric came up to the top of its ankle.


    It was fairly muscular and had unkempt brown hair and a wild beard around a face that looked human enough, though its head was almost as big as most men.  Eric drew his sword and charged forward, but again, the giant only had eyes for Chari, who clearly held its attention.


    Eric groaned in frustration, but then shouted at the giant as he closed the distance between them. ¡°Hey you, ugly! I sure hope you smell better than you look!¡±


    The giant turned to him, threw back its head, and roared. Eric gulped but didn¡¯t slow his advance, shield held high, sword ready to strike whatever he could.


    One advantage he had was that for the giant to punch him, it had to practically double over, or at least kneel. The giant realized this too apparently, because instead it picked up its foot and moved to stomp on him. Eric dove left. He landed on the hard-packed dirt ground and rolled, but the giant¡¯s foot struck, scattering the thin coating of leaf litter just as Eric was trying to find his feet. Eric lost his balance and ended up flat on his back.


    Chari was on it then, attacking its exposed ankle. This was the foot it had planted to stomp with the other.  Her attack didn¡¯t seem to be having much effect.


    The giant had raised its foot again to stamp on Eric, and he considered rolling sideways but didn¡¯t think he could roll faster than the giant could adjust its attack. So instead, he stuck his sword straight up and waited for the foot to come down. With a regular sword, he might not have tried this, but this wasn¡¯t any old sword. This was a holy sword, and he truly believed the power of Sheba was a match for any giant.


    He was close to the edge of the foot when it landed, so he managed to both stab the foot and roll out from under it, almost at the same time. Thinking back later he couldn¡¯t figure out how he¡¯d managed it, but apparently he did. Unfortunately when the creature picked its foot up, it ripped the sword out of his hand. He watched the sword ascend still stuck in the giant¡¯s foot, well above his ability to reach it.


    But then, he didn¡¯t have to reach it, did he? He held out his hand, and the sword appeared in it. He looked up and droplets of blood started to leak from the small wound in that giant foot.


    In the meantime, Chari seemed to be making at least some progress on the other ankle, causing the creature no small degree of annoyance. She had thrust her sword deeply into the ankle and it probably felt the way it might if Eric were walking through a thorn bush. In other words, painful, but not particularly deadly. How do you fight something this big with nothing more than two swords and a shield?


    He looked around, but there was nothing to help him. He looked up and regretted it instantly. The giant was wearing a loin cloth with nothing under it. It was completely naked beneath. Hanging in the air way above his head were the biggest set of balls that Eric had ever seen. Eric sincerely wished he had a skill that allowed him to unsee things cause he was pretty sure his medication wouldn¡¯t help him with that particular nightmare.


    He forced himself back to the present. There had to be something he could do. And then he remembered. There was a place you could strike in the back of the foot, just above it on the lower ankle. Something that would cause an opponent to be unable to stand. The next time the foot came down, he dodged behind it and started hacking at the area above the heel. Several strong swipes later he felt something give.


    The creature roared and went down to one knee. As soon as it did, Chari was there, driving her sword into its calf.


    Eric switched sides and went for the back of the other foot. Having the giant down lower was a boon to them, but it also helped the giant too, evidenced by the massive fist that struck the ground in front of him. Only Eric¡¯s position behind the creature allowed him to get out of reach. It didn¡¯t seem the creature could reach backwards that far. What he wouldn¡¯t give for a bow.


    Oh sure. First you want a sword, and now that you have one it¡¯s not good enough.


    He was startled at what he immediately identified as playful banter, though of course, playful banter with a goddess was ridiculous.  He almost wasn¡¯t sure he interpreted it right. He was so flustered, he missed his next opportunity to attack and only barely dodged the massive fist again.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll do better!¡± he yelled out.


    The goddess laughed in his mind, but he forced himself to ignore it and return to the fight.


    The entire affair turned into a battle of attrition. As long as they could avoid damage, they could continue to attack, making cut after cut wherever they could reach.


    They had different styles completely. Chari was aggressively hitting anything that was within reach, using strength to drive her weapon deeper into the creature. She did more piercing damage than Eric. Eric, on the other hand, looked for specific targets that would do the most damage, attempting to slash at areas that would cause the most blood loss. Admittedly, he was guessing some of the time, but his targets were more deliberate than Chari¡¯s.  Between the two of them, they wore their opponent down, though it took a long time. Luckily, fatigue didn¡¯t seem to be a factor in the Other Realm.


    Any single hit could have downed either one of them, but both were too skilled to get hit. With blood leaking from countless wounds, the creature¡¯s attacks started to slow. Eventually, the blood loss overwhelmed it and it fell over. Chari used her puncture skill to end the fight, by aiming for its eye. The thrust was so hard, and the eye was so big, that she ended up elbow deep in it. She pulled back and struck again and again, until she was sure it was dead.


    Finally, Chari collapsed on the ground, mentally rather than physically exhausted. When the scroll appeared next to her, she reached for it without even sitting up. Then, her eyes widened and she did sit, suddenly energized.


    ¡°Something good?¡± asked Eric hopefully.


    She grinned. ¡°I¡¯m a Level 1 Warrior. And I have a new skill, Amazing Strength!¡±


    ¡°Wow. That¡¯s a good one. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone getting that at Level 1.¡±


    ¡°Well, I am hanging out with one of the chosen.¡±


    ¡°The chosen?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you know, pulling Dahr into your dream. Mister I have two holy weapons.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯m just an ordinary guy.¡±


    ¡°A magical, ordinary prince, with two holy weapons and a class I¡¯ve never heard of. No one could possibly be this humble.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a virtue,¡± he said. ¡°You should try it.¡±


    He was sitting up looking at her and she closed the distance between them faster than he¡¯d have thought possible. She punched him in the arm, fortunately without using her new skill, and then sat beside him on the ground in the clearing.


    ¡°You know what?¡± she asked.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a grown woman now, and you¡¯re a grown man.¡±


    Eric looked at her nervously. ¡°Ummm...yep.¡±


    ¡°And there¡¯s no chaperons here,¡± she continued.


    ¡°Well, ummm, Sheba is with us.¡±


    ¡°Sheba is a goddess, she¡¯s always with us. And Sheba is the one responsible for both of us being here without supervision, at least that¡¯s the theory, right? So she shouldn¡¯t object if we were to say¡­kiss, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Well, ummmm¡­¡±


    She didn¡¯t wait for him to finish or come with an excuse. She grabbed him and pulled him close. Eric had never kissed a girl before and approached it tentatively once he understood this was happening, but he thought Chari might have more experience than him, because she wasn¡¯t taking any hostages. She was in for the kill. Before he realized what was happening, she was lying on top of him, and he was trying to figure out if this was going to go any further and what to do or say if it were.


    ¡°You know,¡± said Chari, face inches above his. ¡°This is not how I thought my first kiss would go.¡±


    ¡°That was your first?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Mine too. Why wasn¡¯t it how you thought it would go?¡±


    ¡°Because I never thought I¡¯d be initiating it. It was always going to be some man, probably my unwanted future husband. I mean he¡¯d be big and muscular and handsome, but I would be determined not to like it.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°And then I¡¯d knee him in the balls, because he deserved it.¡±


    ¡°Oh did he? What did he do to deserve it?¡±


    ¡°How should I know? He¡¯s a man, so I¡¯m sure he¡¯s done something.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Eric. ¡°So in this case, you initiated it. What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to distract me from kissing you again?¡±


    Eric looked guilty. ¡°Ummm, no, it¡¯s just that¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up.¡±


    She kissed him again. This one lasted longer and by the time it was done, Eric was no longer worried about what might happen next.


    ¡°I had always assumed, I would consummate my marriage after getting married,¡± said Chari.


    ¡°Do you really want to¡­¡±


    She looked exasperated. ¡°Eric, you¡¯d better find something pleasing to say to me.¡±


    He looked into her eyes, leaned up as if to initiate a kiss of his own, and said probably the last thing Chari wanted to hear.


    ¡°I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think I¡¯m waking up.¡±


    And he was back in his room in the temple, happy and frustrated at the same time. He lay there for a few minutes before the door opened and Chari walked in, closing the door behind her.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault.¡±


    ¡°I get the impression you say that a lot. Congratulations on your transition,¡± she grinned.


    ¡°Oh, you too, warrior. This is really going to annoy your parents, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡±


    Eric laughed. ¡°I guess we should get back to the palace.¡±


    Chari looked like she might have other ideas. She approached, reaching for him with a look in her eyes that Eric would never forget. There was curiosity there, and desire, and a hint of not quite hidden nervousness, but Chari was committed. Her lips drew closer to his, closer... and... the door opened and Veloran was there, smiling at the two of them.


    ¡°Did someone request a chaperon?¡± he asked.

 Chapter 11 - An Unexpected Visitor

    Seventh of Learning 1142


    King Terrence was in the throne room, awaiting his son¡¯s return from the Other Realm. Today, if all went well, Eric would be a man. The king wondered what class he would get but refused to speculate. Whatever it was, it would be good. Eric was favored by Sheba, and that had to mean something.


    He glanced at his wife, who sat on her throne. She was excitedly chattering with Queen Rhea, while King Leonid stood off to the side, watching them. They had vacated the ornate seats that Leata had provided, probably too excited to sit. They too were waiting for their daughter to return from her transition. At first, it annoyed him that Eric would have to share that moment, but when he thought about it again, it seemed oddly appropriate. The two seemed to hit it off, so transitioning at the same time, sharing that victory together could cement them as a couple even before marriage. A celebration before the celebration so to speak.


    His mind returned to Eric¡¯s first trip into the Other Realm and the bizarre happenings that seemed to make less sense as time went on. Dahr had entered his transition dream. Insanity. And then he emerged with a shared familiar and a holy weapon. Unheard of. Hopefully, this time, everything was going to go as planned. It¡¯s not like he and Chari could share¡­


    A slow burning sensation began to form in the pit of his stomach. He remembered Veloran suggesting that they needed to hurry or they would be late. Late for what? You could start a transition at any time of the day or night¡­unless¡­no. It couldn¡¯t happen again. Not twice. He clenched his fists and then let them relax. If it was Sheba¡¯s will, it would be, and he would accept it. It wasn¡¯t like he had a choice. Who was he to question a god? And if they did share a transition, what of it? All that meant was that Sheba favored their union, which was a good thing, right? But still, he felt doubt claw at him. He wanted Eric to be well. Chari too, obviously. He told himself it was all in his mind, that everything would be fine, but the more he tried to reassure himself, the more nervous he became.


    The crowd didn¡¯t help. It was too early for the throne room to be packed like this. There were the usual assortment of guards about and a couple of high ranked nobles as well. People were probably gathering in anticipation of Eric¡¯s return. Perhaps the excitement came from knowing that Eric was favored by Sheba. After his son¡¯s first foray into the Other Realm, and the oddness that surrounded it, people wanted to be here to see what happened. It was only natural. And they had royal guests. Some would be around to see the king and queen of Melar, most just to say they saw them, and others, the higher ranking nobles, might hope to have a few words and perhaps be remembered at some later date.


    On second glance, King Terrence realized that some of those nobles weren¡¯t his, but rather were vassals of King Leonid. He didn¡¯t recognize quite a few of the people milling about. He never really thought about how full the throne room was. It was designed, along with the rest of the castle, to hold a great number of people, yet it was seldom crowded. But now as he looked around, he realized that the crowd went further back than usual, with people more spread out, almost all the way to the door. A fine audience to witness his son¡¯s triumph.


    Everything went back to that. Eric had been disappointed that he had not transitioned the first time. Terrence had felt Eric¡¯s pain and embarrassment, but in the years to come it would be forgotten. No one remembered the failure before your success. Not if you were royalty anyway.  It still hurt to see his son hurting, but these were the moments that kept you grounded and built your character. Eric would be stronger for it, for all that the experience was unpleasant. And he had nothing to be ashamed of. Veloran had said that Sheba favored both of his sons.


    What was more than passing strange was that Eric hadn¡¯t transitioned, but Dahr had. He hadn¡¯t had a chance to talk with the boy about that and didn¡¯t understand it, but between entertaining his royal guests, negotiations, and all the mundane matters that came up every day, King Terrence had had precious little time for his other son. That was something that would have to be rectified sooner rather than later.


    Over the last couple of years, he¡¯d grown used to ignoring the boy. Of course, that was before the boy knew that Terrence was his father, or so he¡¯d thought. But Dahr had always suspected. He¡¯d known on some level. How did it feel to know that your own father didn¡¯t have the time of day for you? It was absolutely unacceptable. He had grown used to keeping Dahr in the background. Moving forward, he¡¯d have to be  more mindful of Dahr and what was going on with him. But today couldn¡¯t be about Dahr. It would have to be about Eric. He¡¯d make it up to the boy¡­ the young man, somehow. Dahr had transitioned... at fourteen years old. Unheard of, like the rest of it. He really did need to talk to Dahr, but not today. He was still determined to let Eric have his moment.


    Assuming everything went to plan, of course. Because of how things had gone the last time, King Terrence was understandably nervous.


    It wasn¡¯t long before three new figures entered the increasingly crowded room¨C Veloran, Chari and Eric. Terrence wanted more than anything to run to his son and talk to him, but with all these people around, a more formal decorum was required, and so he smiled and nodded, waiting as they all knelt. He forced himself to wait a beat before asking them to rise. He was impatient to hear what had happened, but resigned himself to the slower formality of protocol, a necessary burden of leadership, but an expected one.


    Finally it was done and he could get some information. ¡°What news, Veloran, High Priest of Sheba?¡±


    Veloran looked apologetic, then started talking. ¡°Both Prince Eric and Princess Chari have completed their transitions on this day, apparently together... in the same dream. Princess Chari, by the grace of the goddess is a Level 1 Warrior. The blessings of Sheba be upon her.  Prince Eric¡­¡±


    He paused for a moment here, and Terrence didn¡¯t think it was for dramatic effect. ¡°Prince Eric is a Level 1 Tank, and has received a second holy weapon.¡±


    The king looked at the high priest expectantly, but no further information was forthcoming. Finally he spoke.


    ¡°A Level 1 Tank?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Highness.¡±


    ¡°What in the blazes is a Tank?¡±


    Veloran shrugged eloquently. No one else had an answer either.


    ¡°Do you mean to tell me that my son has a class you¡¯ve never heard of?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Highness. That¡¯s exactly what I mean to tell you.¡±


    The king released a long held breath and asked, ¡°Okay, how about his final skill then?¡±


    The high priest didn¡¯t answer, but Prince Eric did. ¡°My final skill is Taunt, father.¡±


    ¡°Taunt? I¡¯ve never heard of it. What does it do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± replied Eric, lamely.


    The king turned his attention to the high priest, who repeated his previous shrug.


    King Terrence looked around. ¡°Has anyone heard of this skill?¡±


    No one answered. The king shook his head as if to clear it.


    He returned his gaze (more of a glare by now) to the high priest. ¡°So we have a class that no one has heard of and a skill no one can define. Does this happen often?¡±


    ¡°About as often as two holy weapons and a shared familiar making it back from the Other Realm,¡± replied Veloran, wryly.


    The king looked frustrated for just a moment, then started laughing. He started and couldn¡¯t stop. Everyone looked at him, but it was Queen Treya who joined him first, then others. The whole situation was ludicrous. His son was a, what was it, a Tank? And what of his other son. He hadn¡¯t learned what his class was, he¡¯d only heard that he¡¯d transitioned, but no one had thought to actually ask his class with everything going on. An oversight for sure. As if on cue, Dahr burst into the throne room, followed a moment later by his somewhat more sedate familiar.


    ¡°You¡¯re back!¡± He ran to Eric and hugged him. ¡°That¡¯s a cool sword you got!¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± asked Eric. ¡°How did you know about my sword?¡±


    ¡°I saw you in a dream. The pose was sorta silly though.¡±


    Chari giggled a bit and then looked abashed when Eric glanced at her.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°What in the blazes is going on with my sons?¡± asked King Terrence.


    No one had an answer.


    ¡°Well then, at least, Dahr, can you tell me what your class is?¡±


    ¡°No, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean no?¡± King Terrence had trouble keeping the exasperation out of his voice.


    ¡°I mean I can¡¯t tell you what my class is. My god will not permit it.¡±


    ¡°Your god? Not Sheba?¡±


    ¡°No, your majesty. Not Sheba.¡±


    ¡°Well who is your god then?¡±


    Dahr looked a bit embarrassed. ¡°He instructed me to call him George.¡±


    ¡°George! Is this some sort of joke?¡± demanded the king.


    At that moment, the room filled with bright light, and everyone present was forced to shield their eyes. And when that light faded, a beautiful woman stood in the room with a bow slung over her shoulder, partially covered by her long blonde hair. Beside her sat a large white wolf, looking up at the throne with what looked like it might have been amusement.


    ¡°My Goddess!¡±


    The king was off his throne and on his knees in a moment. He was the first, but everyone else followed.


    Sheba, however, laughed and motioned for them to rise.


    ¡°I am not a queen that requires such devotion. I require only that you live your best lives. Be honest. Live with integrity. With honor. Do your best. No one can ask for more than that.¡±


    All of them got to their feet, but Terrence was still king and he wanted answers. Before he could ask for them, the goddess spoke.


    ¡°King Terrence, you have served me well for all the years of your life. Know that you have my love and respect. I have blessed both your sons, but Dahr is sworn to another, as is my will. His allegiance serves my purpose. Yet he must honor...George, as his power derives from George¡¯s will. You have no idea how much I didn¡¯t want to say that sentence. The right thing is sometimes difficult even for the gods.¡±


    ¡°But what is his class?¡± asked King Terrence, unwilling to accept not knowing.


    ¡°Dear Terrence, Dahr¡¯s role is to obey George to the best of his ability. Your job, hard as it is, is to accept and honor that. Be happy that my purpose is served by his service.¡±


    The king looked like he was about to protest, but nodded instead. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course.  It¡¯s just that so many unusual things have happened in the last few days. Everything is so strange.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could tell you things will get less strange, but they will not.¡±


    The Goddess turned to look at Chari.


    ¡°Princess Chari, I welcome you. You have been, in so many ways, the sword I have sought. It is my will that you marry Prince Eric, no matter what happens.¡±


    ¡°Then I will,¡± she said. ¡°I think I would have anyway, so it¡¯s good you didn¡¯t try to stop me.¡±


    Her father and mother both started to protest, but the goddess waved it away laughing.


    ¡°She¡¯s always been quite the warrior, your daughter. It¡¯s better that she followed her own heart than your advice. She¡¯d have never been happy with Mitra or Iorana.¡±


    Both the king and queen looked aghast as they realized the goddess knew that they tried to persuade her to choose a patron other than Sheba and both remained silent for the rest of the encounter, hoping the goddess would not again turn her attention to them. Sheba, however, had moved on. She turned to Queen Treya. She opened her arms for a hug and Treya, startled, moved in to embrace the goddess.


    ¡°Long have I watched you Treya. You are my perfect warrior. You never have to think to obey me, your very will is the twin of my own. It is an honor to have been chosen by you.¡±


    Jaws dropped as the goddess embraced the queen, who broke into tears while the goddess soothed her. No one had expected that, and the queen finally pulled herself together and backed away.


    Now the goddess returned her attention to King Terrence.


    ¡°It is time to start training both the princes and Princess Chari. Not tomorrow, I mean now. They have much to learn if they are to survive the trials to come. Even now, events are happening that will change this world forever, and this family, Chari included, are central to them. There is no time to waste. Adopt and acknowledge Dahr, and for my sake train him. In everything. The more he learns, the more secure he¡¯ll be.¡±


    ¡°High Priest Veloran had warned us of danger if we don¡¯t adopt him formally.¡±


    ¡°The danger will happen either way. Adopting him will save his life, at least in the short term. What happens in the long term is beyond my ability to see. Stay strong, my warriors.¡±


    ¡°My goddess?¡± asked Eric, ¡°May I ask a question?¡±


    The goddess inclined her head.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Tank?¡± Eric blurted out.


    The goddess smiled. ¡°You are, my child, you are. I think it won¡¯t be long before you figure it out for yourself, but remember this. No class will work harder to defend those they care about, not even a Guardian. Being a Tank is unique in this world, but it is not unique throughout all worlds. There are other Tanks on other worlds.¡±


    Every eye in the room was on the goddess as she spoke, but it was the king who broke the silence that followed.


    ¡°Other worlds, my goddess?¡±


    ¡°Kalutu can explain it to you. Or Eric or Dahr for that matter. Unfortunately, it is time for me to go. The energy I exude can overwhelm mortals and too much of it will have a long term affect on the health of those exposed. I wish you all luck. Make me proud.¡±


    She was looking at Eric and Dahr when she said that last sentence. And then she was gone. No one spoke for a long time.


    Unsurprisingly, it was Chari who broke the long silence. ¡°Well, that was entertaining.¡±


    Everyone looked at her. Veloran was smiling, her parents looked frustrated and embarrassed, King Terrence was chuckling, but Treya walked over and hugged her.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to welcome you to the family.¡±


    The king moved toward her and welcomed her as well, and then it was Dahr¡¯s turn. He walked up to her hesitantly. Shyly. Uncertainly, as if he didn¡¯t know what to expect.


    Chari smiled at him, ruffled his hair and pulled him in for a hug. Dahr¡¯s eyes widened and when she released him he stepped back quickly, but he was smiling, with just a tinge of relief, the king thought.


    Eric was the last to approach and he hugged her, but as he started to pull away, Chari pulled him back and kissed him full on the lips.


    King Leonid looked like he¡¯d swallowed glass but somehow held his tongue. A goddess had blessed their union, they might as well be married already. He looked at Terrence and sighed wearily.


    ¡°I suppose we need to finalize our agreement.¡±


    Terrence nodded. ¡°Yes, but first, I¡¯m going to have to summon some people. It¡¯s time for me to formally adopt and acknowledge Dahr, and get these kids¡­¡±


    Prince Eric cleared his throat.


    ¡°...these young adults some training.¡±


    *


    King Leonid watched while his Twylian counterpart issued a bevy of instructions to pages and other people around the room, while inside he fumed. He¡¯d been humiliated publicly in a foreign throne room. Had a mortal been responsible, he¡¯d have declared war. It was intolerable.


    He made a hasty excuse before people started to arrive and hurried back toward his room. One of his servants was there already.


    ¡°Jerish, start packing. We¡¯re getting out of here.¡±


    ¡°Sire?¡±


    Jerish was boyish in spite of being almost 20 years old. He was tall and gangly with a shock of uncontrollable red hair above a freckled face. His green eyes met the king¡¯s, displaying both curiosity and intelligence.


    ¡°You heard me. We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    The servant began moving about the room organizing a few things before heading for the door. Queen Rhea passed him as he was on the way out.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked the king.


    ¡°Packing.¡±


    ¡°Are you mad?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving, Rhea. No arguments.¡±


    ¡°Oh there¡¯ll be no arguments. We¡¯re staying, and there¡¯s nothing else to talk about.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re going to put my Chari...our Chari in danger. I won¡¯t have it.¡±


    Rhea looked skeptical. ¡°Come now. This isn¡¯t about Chari.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s our only daughter. Our only child. We can¡¯t let her face danger.¡±


    Rhea chuckled. ¡°Ruling is always dangerous, and I know you know that. So what is this really about?¡±


    Suddenly, Leonid looked older. He sat heavily on the bed, and she sat beside him.


    ¡°We were humiliated, Rhea. Humiliated! In front of all those people. In front of a rival!¡±


    She placed a hand gently on his. ¡°Not a rival, Leo. An ally.¡±


    ¡°How do I return to the negotiating table now, when my strongest bargaining chip is off the table?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said, realization lighting her eyes. ¡°You think you¡¯re negotiating from a position of weakness.¡±


    ¡°Well? Aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Leo, my foolish king, you are not.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°The goddess of honor just visited the throne room of Twyl to make a show of how strongly she supports the king and queen here. Being their allies would do nothing but strengthen us. And more to the point, King Terrence would never use that as a bargaining chip. His wife had said as much when I learned the boys were favored by Sheba. In fact, this could work to your advantage.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Tell him the truth. I¡¯ll bet if you tell him that you feel you can¡¯t negotiate any more because he holds all the cards after Sheba appeared in his throne room, he¡¯ll go out of his way to be fair to you.¡±


    ¡°Why would he do that?¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯ll see it as the honorable thing to do. He won¡¯t allow you to walk away feeling like Sheba¡¯s visit forced you into concessions.¡±


    ¡°Do you think so?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And as for the danger, I think it¡¯s far more dangerous to ignore a goddess¡¯s will than anything else that might happen to her. I don¡¯t care what you say, this wedding is going to happen. And if I don¡¯t miss my guess, it¡¯ll be sooner rather than later.¡±


    Leonid stared at his wife, not for the first time aware of how lucky he was to have her. He lifted her hand from his and pressed it to his lips.


    ¡°You really are marvelous,¡± he said softly.


    She blushed slightly, apparently surprised at the compliment, but it was true. She was clever and wise as well.


    The door opened before they could continue and Jerish entered, three servants behind him, all holding wooden chests.


    ¡°Forget what I said, Jerish. We¡¯re staying.¡±


    Jerish nodded and bowed. ¡°Of course my king. Okay, lads, you heard the king. Out with you. Let¡¯s find you lot something useful to do.¡±


    Leonid chuckled, then shook his head. ¡°That was Sheba, Rhea. The Goddess of Honor, Combat and the Hunt.¡±


    She looked amused. ¡°I know who Sheba is, husband.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do, it was just...overwhelming.¡±


    ¡°Yes, dear. She¡¯s a goddess. I don¡¯t know what else you¡¯d have expected. It bothered you, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°What did?¡±


    ¡°Not being the most powerful entity in the room.¡±


    He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again. There were a lot of people he could lie to, but Rhea wasn¡¯t one of them. And the gods, who were always listening, also knew his heart.


    ¡°Yes. It bothered me.¡±


    The two sat on the bed, holding hands, overwhelmed by the events of the morning.


    ¡°At least Chari got a normal class,¡± said Leonid finally.


    Rhea looked at him amused. ¡°As opposed to a special class, personally selected by the goddess? You really are an idiot sometimes.¡±


    Leonid chuckled, and cleared his throat. ¡°Yes, well. Do you think she¡¯ll be all right?¡±


    Rhea grew serious. ¡°At least we know Eric will be there to protect her. It¡¯s been a while since I prayed, but this might be a good time to start again.¡±


    The two sat quietly for a long time. There weren¡¯t many moments like this when you ruled a country. You had to take the quiet moments when you could. King Leonid of Melar strongly suspected there wouldn¡¯t be many in the days and weeks ahead.

 Chapter 12 - Unexplained Power

    Seventh of Learning 1142


    Maynor was in the practice yard when the page came for him, summoning him to the king¡¯s presence. He finished giving the guard he was talking with a few words of advice on his sparring technique, then followed the page back toward the throne room.


    Most people would have probably wondered what the king required of them, but Maynor was not most people. He was ready to serve in whatever way King Terrence needed him to, and wondering ahead of time would do nothing but fill his head with unwanted preconceptions. There were times for speculation and times to keep an open mind. In the absence of any information at all, the disciplined mind concentrated on the here and now.


    As he approached the throne room, he passed a handful of minor nobles who were buzzing with excitement. They talked in hushed whispers as they passed, but he couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. That was the first clue that something might be amiss. He steeled himself before he passed through the doors, only to relax as he saw the broad smiles on the faces of the king and queen.


    He knelt as soon as he walked through the door, and the king bade him rise almost immediately, which he did.


    ¡°You just missed it,¡± said the king, barely containing his excitement. Maynor couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d seen the king like this. In fact, he may never have seen the king quite this energized. King Terrence was almost bouncing, as if he were an excited teenager before his transition.


    ¡°Exactly what did I miss?¡± asked Maynor.


    ¡°Sheba paid us a visit.¡±


    ¡°Sheba, as in the goddess?¡±


    The king grinned at him. ¡°That would be the one.¡±


    He glanced at the queen, and she nodded. Normally he would never look to verify anything that King Terrence said, but the goddess? Here? And he missed it? He schooled his expression so he would not show his disappointment, but he thought the queen may have picked up a hint of it from the expression on her face. It was she who spoke next.


    ¡°It was a humbling experience. I wish you were here to share it with us, but that is not why you were summoned.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Your Highness.¡±


    ¡°First,¡± she continued, ¡°Papers have been drawn up to recognize Dahr officially as the king¡¯s son. You¡¯re to add him to the combat training you¡¯ve been giving Eric, and their familiar Kalutu as well.¡±


    ¡°Their familiar, Your Highness?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yes. Events are afoot. We don¡¯t know what they are but we know they¡¯ll be dangerous. The goddess came by with specific instructions to train them. Princess Chari too, while she¡¯s here.¡±


    Maynor looked surprised but nodded. ¡°It shall be as you say. I¡¯ll start tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll start now,¡± said the king. ¡°Whatever else you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t as important as what the goddess asked of us. We don¡¯t know why, or how, but we¡¯ll push their training as far as we can, as fast as we can. No time wasted. It won¡¯t just be physical training either. There will be other training as well, so coordinate with Leata.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Whatever¡¯s coming, it¡¯s going to change the world, Maynor.¡±


    Maynor didn¡¯t like the sound of that. Something dangerous that would change the world? ¡°Should I put out more guards on patrol, Your Highness?¡±


    The king looked thoughtful. ¡°It might not hurt to step up security, but don¡¯t push it so that men are exhausted by the time something happens.  Until we know what we¡¯re dealing with, let¡¯s keep the response moderate.¡±


    ¡°Very good, My Liege.¡±


    ¡°That will be all.¡±


    Without another word, Maynor bowed, and hurried from the throne room. World changing events? Danger? As the man directly responsible for the safety of the royal family, even a visit from the goddess didn¡¯t hold his attention for long. She¡¯d come to warn them and whatever was coming, they¡¯d be ready. He not only needed to step up patrols of the palace, but he needed to get word to Captain Jericho on the wall, so Rish¡¯s city defenses would be on alert as well.


    Maynor made his way through the palace to Leata¡¯s office. The door was closed. He knocked, waited, knocked again, then left and went downstairs to the back entrance to the kitchen. He found her there, giving orders to different servants as she moved imperiously through the room.


    She was short, but you almost didn¡¯t notice it due to the air of authority that surrounded her. There was enough gray in her once raven hair to make her look older than her forty years. Her skin by contrast was smooth, almost olive colored, a rarity in Twyl.  Her brown eyes moved over everything as if she were constantly taking inventory, which Maynor suspected was not far from the truth. He waited for her to notice him, which took about half a second.


    ¡°You needed something?¡± Leata¡¯s voice was deep, crisp and firm. She was a woman used to being in charge, and had little time for idle banter.


    ¡°I¡¯m to coordinate with you on Prince Eric and Prince Dahr¡¯s training.¡±


    Her eyebrows raised, but only slightly. For anyone else it would have been an expression of the greatest shock. ¡°Prince Dahr now, is it?¡±


    ¡°The king has made the decision to acknowledge the boy. He wants both of his sons and their familiar trained, ready for anything. This isn¡¯t a casual request. The king wants their education expedited.¡±


    ¡°Oh dear,¡± she said. ¡°Those poor boys. Kalutu as well? Well how about that.¡±


    ¡°And Princess Chari as long as she¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Did something happen?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Maynor.


    Leata blew out her breath. ¡°You continue to be the third most annoying man in this castle.¡±


    ¡°Only the third? I¡¯m not trying hard enough.¡±


    Leata laughed. ¡°So what happened?¡±


    ¡°Sheba paid a visit to the king and queen, and told them of dangerous times, and particularly of danger to the princes. His Highness wants them ready for whatever may come.¡±


    ¡°Sheba appeared? Here? In the palace?¡±


    ¡°Apparently.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s bad enough for a goddess to sound the alarm, we need to take this seriously. You go round up the kids now. Your training is better during daylight hours. I can always get them with a mage after dark.  I¡¯ll try to get some time in between to teach them geography, history, and whatever else I can think of that might help.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that. And you know, they¡¯re not kids anymore. Try to remember that. They¡¯ve all transitioned.¡±


    ¡°Yes, even Dahr. I heard about that. Strange tidings all around. You¡¯d best get to it.¡±


    ¡°I was skeptical when the king named you to your post, but you¡¯re the best Chamberlain I¡¯ve worked with, even if you are a pain in my ass.¡±


    If Leata was offended, she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Go find the princes. Princes. I¡¯ll have to get used to that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring them by your office after I¡¯ve had them for a while. We have to be careful not to overdo it.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. Remember how hard we had it when we were young.¡±


    ¡°I was never young.¡±


    Maynor turned and left the room. It was going to be a long day.


    *


    The city of Tarlet had a chapter of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, but it was very small. In fact, the head of the  guild in Tarlet was also the postmaster and the mayor. Her name was Wisita Roth, a retired adventurer who did just enough over the years, without ever becoming known or famous. Wisita was an expert at the politics of adventuring, rather than say fighting monsters. She managed to get herself on the right teams, and introduce herself to the right people at just the right time. Her most powerful skill, however, was to look at a problem, decide it was above her pay grade and pass it up the line, thus avoiding the blow back should things go wrong. Merck Vanderoth was such a problem.


    The Misfits of Karmenon, already more well known than she had ever been (at least locally) had brought him to her attention, a Level 1 Priest of an unknown god, who apparently knew how they could solve the undead problem. It was a problem no one had ever had a solution for. However, Mr. Vanderoth¡¯s solution involved finding a nameless noble he had seen in a vision, somewhere in the world.


    Truth spells verified everything the Priest had said was true, but none of it made any sense. And the expense of sending this Priest around to different cities to look at nobles was prohibitive, particularly for her little chapter. It was time to do what she did best...find someone else to make the hard choices.


    The leader of the Misfits of Karmenon was a serpent lord named Ressssen. She wondered why so many of them had esses in there name. It made them awkward to address. Still, she pronounced the name properly, having years of practice sucking up to almost all species, emphasizing the letter for just the right amount of time. This was a rare skill for a human, and most serpent lords made a note of it.


    ¡°Obviously, you need to head to the capital. We don¡¯t have the resources here to fund a search for an unknown man from a vision. We¡¯ll call it a contract. Ressssen, you and the Misfits of Karmenon will escort Merck Vanderoth to the capitol where you will relay what you¡¯ve told me to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.¡±


    Ressssen looked annoyed. Wisita was also one of the few humans that could read serpent lord facial expressions. ¡°That¡¯ssss it? You have a chance to participate in ending the greatest threat the civilized world has ever ssssseen and you¡¯re sssssending ussss off. You¡¯ll be covering our costssss, I assssume.¡±


    Wisita kept the annoyance she felt off her face, for all that the request had been a reasonable one. Adventurers working at the behest of the guild were supposed to be compensated.  Sending a team to do the job was more expensive than sending a single body guard, or paying a caravan to take him, but then, this team was part of the story, and the guild might have questions for them. There seemed no way around it.


    ¡°How much are we talking about?¡± asked Wisita.


    ¡°Three gold.¡±


    Wisita looked like she was about to protest, then thought about how big and expensive this problem could end up getting and decided it was worth that much just to be shot of it. She quickly filled in a contract, signed it, had Ressssen sign it, paid the three gold and nodded curtly.


    ¡°You have your contract. Escort Mr. Vanderoth to the capitol, and turn him over to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild there. Good luck.¡±


    With that dismissal she turned away, still annoyed at having to pay a small local team, a team so far beneath her, to do a routine job. The nerve of some people.


    *


    Outside, after Ressssen explained the new contract to the team, Striker took her aside.


    ¡°Why only three gold? We could have gotten more.¡±


    Ressssen nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. But we¡¯re in this for the long game. This isn¡¯t about a couple of pieces of gold. It was nice to get back what we lost from being swindled, but imagine what will happen to our reputation if we take part in ending the undead threat. Imagine the glory. The fame. What we could charge for everything.


    ¡°Wisita Roth isn¡¯t the end game. She wasn¡¯t going to throw big money at us, but there are people who will. Eye on the prize, Striker. This has the potential to be our biggest contract yet. We don¡¯t want to push too early. Let¡¯sss look reasonable for when we get to Pelaro. The guild there will be bigger, and demandsss for compensssation are going to be taken more ssseriously, but honestly I¡¯d like to sssee this as far as we can take it¨C and not just for the coin. To end the undead threat? It¡¯s unimaginable.¡±


    Striker nodded. She had already followed a similar train of thought herself. If there was any truth to what Merck Vanderoth was saying, and she had some doubts on that, it would be a momentous, history changing event. Striker¡¯s interest in the matter was more than academic, but she kept it to herself. They all had secrets. This was one of hers.


    The two returned to the group, who didn¡¯t seem particularly curious about what Striker had wanted. She expected nothing less. This team always respected each other¡¯s privacy, which worked well for her. Other teams in the past hadn¡¯t always been as considerate. Part of this, she knew, was down to Ressssen¡¯s leadership, and part of it down to the lack of interest of various team members. Dreek didn¡¯t really get human interactions, and was happy to avoid the subject. Garne was more interested in beer and brawls. Borin was interested in understanding the others in the group, but as a salad, he was also polite, astute and reserved. Ressssen understood the need for privacy and never interfered in anyone¡¯s business unless it directly affected the team. This was exactly what Striker had been looking for.


    She knew that others didn¡¯t understand her needs or behavior, but they didn¡¯t have to. They only had to leave her alone when they were in town, which they all did. But now, they were about to go back out on a contract, and it would all change. There was no privacy on the road. No hiding anything. Out there, when it mattered, the Misfits of Karmenon was more than a team¡­ they were a family. They protected each other, watched out for each other and cared for each other. Striker found herself smiling. She¡¯d found the perfect fit.


    Their only stop before leaving town was to provision. There was enough gold left to buy a few healing potions, dry rations, and a few other odds and ends. Striker purchased a few arrows to replace the ones she¡¯d used but hadn¡¯t been able to retrieve. Ressssen perused some of the spell scrolls, the few they could afford. She always did this and never bought one. Striker wondered if she were looking for something specific or if she just didn¡¯t want to spend so much of their funds. No one would have objected if she had. Ressssen being stronger wouldn¡¯t hurt the team, and she was always more than fair in the division of spoils, uncommonly so. If anything, Ressssen never took more than anyone else, and often took less.


    They set out for Pelaro on foot, none of them owning mounts. They could have waited for a caravan, but traffic going back would have been light at that time of day, and Ressssen seemed to want to be out of the city, though Striker wasn¡¯t sure why that would be. She was happy though. She felt her own restlessness, as if something important were happening and it couldn¡¯t start until they reached their destination.


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    She chided herself for the childish reaction. Most likely, nothing would come of this. It was just another step on a very long journey that led nowhere and achieved nothing, as it should be. She smiled happily. The only thing that would have made her happier was if she¡¯d actually managed to get laid while they were in Tarlet. She had been so close. Now she¡¯d have to wait until Pelaro. She sighed. Well, it wouldn¡¯t take long to get there, and at least she had something to look forward to, even if their current assignment turned out to be as much of a waste of time as she thought it would be.


    *


    Merck Vanderoth had been to Pelaro any number of times. In his earliest days, he would travel with a caravan as a worker, which provided food and protection but very little coin. He¡¯d load and unload cargo, help build fires or gather wood, or even protect the caravan if there was an attack. As he plied his trade, he became able to pay for passage, but that ended when his addiction started. He had gone back to working his way from place to place as he didn¡¯t want to waste coin on anything but sizzle.


    As they walked, Merck examined the team of adventurers who walked both in front of him and behind,  most likely to prevent him from running off. Several stole glances at him from time to time, particularly Ressssen and Striker, but also the male warrior. Garne? Something like that.


    Merck realized he was at the mercy of people he¡¯d recently ripped off. He had deliberately swindled them out of three gold for what were nothing more than worthless flasks of colored water. He thought about it for a long time.


    Adventurers might depend on healing potions when the situation turned dire. If the only potions they had were his, someone could have died. They were lucky that they had tried one before leaving town. Maybe it wasn¡¯t luck, but rather a deliberate precaution. It hadn¡¯t occurred to him, because all he¡¯d cared about was sizzle. It was the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him.


    He had felt Tharin pulling away, he just didn¡¯t care. He didn¡¯t need a god, what he needed was a high. And the more he used, the less use he had for some distant being, no matter how powerful. He hadn¡¯t been  leveling, yet somehow managed to get by on the skills he already had and sheer bravado.


    Except now, looking back, it seemed like the chances he¡¯d been taking had been desperate chances. Insane chances. That they¡¯d worked out for so long was nothing more than luck. So perhaps, it was understandable that his god had forsaken him, but who would then take him? He was a Priest, but of who? Which god or goddess had taken pity on him and claimed him as their own? He had no idea.


    But he did know one thing. He had gotten lucky. Lucky that it had happened, or he¡¯d be imprisoned after the adventurers he¡¯d swindled had beaten him. He couldn¡¯t repay their money because he¡¯d spent it almost as soon as he¡¯d gotten it. So they¡¯d have taken it out of his hide. And he¡¯d have deserved it. Whoever his new god was, Merck owed him or her a debt. Not only did he save Merck from a terrible beating and probably jail, but he no longer felt the need for sizzle. The cravings had been a constant companion and now they were gone. He could start over. But as a Priest?


    Merck had been born in Final Hope, and there were a lot of things he¡¯d learned growing up there as a boy. Faith was not one of those things. He¡¯d been born to an alcoholic father, who abused his mother to the point where she was so cowed she barely existed at all, except as an extension of his father¡¯s will. It had been painful to watch growing up, but Merck had not been strong enough or brave enough to stand up to his father.  He had watched his mother go from the young loving woman who¡¯d borne him to a shadow, no more or less tangible than the one they called Dreek. Distant, aloof, emotionless. She hadn¡¯t left, but she hadn¡¯t been there either. And Merck couldn¡¯t take it, couldn¡¯t watch it anymore, couldn¡¯t save her, so he had fled.


    On the streets, there wasn¡¯t much to do but steal to survive, which he supposed was how Tharin had found him in the first place, and why Merck had become one of the god-touched. It didn¡¯t happen often. It was meant to be an honor, and he felt honored. Tharin had given him a class and skills.  Tharin had given him a fighting chance to survive. Merck was thankful for that, genuinely thankful. Tharin, the God of Thieves had probably saved his life. And then sizzle came along and tried to steal it.


    Sizzle was like a hill that kept getting higher every time you tried to climb it. It felt like you were on the verge of something momentous. Something world-shaking. Something that made you special. It put you above others. Made you smarter, or at least feel smarter. Made you braver. He had needed that. He still needed that, but now he¡¯d have to get his bravery from elsewhere. He¡¯d never go back to that drug.


    And so, when he was at the lowest point in his life, another being, a nameless god had touched him and given him hope. Had cured him of his addiction. Had allowed him another chance. Merck Vanderoth may have been many things, but he wasn¡¯t a fool. Given another chance, he would take it. And he¡¯d start with the simple goal of fulfilling the will of his god, but he had his own personal goal as well. Somehow he¡¯d find  a way to compensate the Misfits of Karmenon. He had been a victim, but they were victims too. Victims of Merck himself. He felt that in order to move forward, he had to make that right.


    Not for them or for his new god, whoever it was, but for himself. If he was going to get another chance, he had to start thinking differently. It all started here and now.


    He regarded the two humans, the salad, and the serpent lord. The phase shifter was nowhere to be seen, probably up ahead scouting. As he watched them, Merck made a silent promise.


    I¡¯ll make it up to all of you. You won¡¯t be worse off for having met me.


    They didn¡¯t hear him, but that didn¡¯t matter. He wasn¡¯t doing it for them. It was the first step toward Merck¡¯s rehabilitation.


    *


    Prince Eric was exhausted, but a glance at Chari and Dahr showed that they were in worse shape then he was. Dahr could barely walk he was so sore. Maynor had driven them hard, particularly on defense, and though Chari had had lessons, apparently a fair number of them, Dahr was starting from scratch. Strangely Kalutu, who walked behind them, seemed unaffected by the pace of the day¡¯s training. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t over yet.


    Chari glanced at Eric and smiled wearily as they followed Maynor through the palace. Eric returned the smile. He knew they were heading towards Leata¡¯s office. Eric liked Leata well enough, but he was pretty sure Dahr was scared of her, having spent time in the kitchen before he became Eric¡¯s personal servant. After all, Leata was in charge of running the palace and that included the kitchen. She kept the servants on a short leash, attempting to maintain order and efficiency. Leata didn¡¯t like complications.


    The train of thought led him back to when he had first met Dahr. Eric knew that befriending a servant wasn¡¯t something that most nobility would consider, which was one of the things Eric hated about nobility. They didn¡¯t see servants as people, and that was wrong. Even servants played into this, seeing themselves as somehow less than the lords and ladies at court. Eric hoped when he was king, should that day ever come, that his servants wouldn¡¯t feel that way about him or themselves.


    It was the same with choosing your god. Eric was royalty and so he, and other nobles and rich people, got to choose the gods they served, or at least the gods they wanted to serve. Not everyone passed the trials during their transitions and sometimes people had to take second or third pick after trying for the god of their choice. Rarely, a noble might not get a class at all, having been rejected by all the gods. Classless nobles were called grasslings¨C they existed at the bottom of the food chain.


    All of this meant that royalty and nobles tended to get classes while more common folk tended not to, which was also unfair. It was true commoners were sometimes singled out by the gods to serve, but it was a rarity. Even the most undeserving noble might end up with a class, but a diligent, honest, hard-working commoner was likely to never get one. Eric didn¡¯t know how to change the system, but he had serious doubts about its equity.


    So he was thinking when they reached the open door of the chamberlain¡¯s office. The office was too small for all of them, so they moved to a nearby salon decorated in a tasteful sky blue with sofas, plush chairs and small tables for snacks and drinks. While they sat, Leata summoned a servant and asked for tea and some fresh baked bread rolls with jam. At the thought of something to eat, Eric¡¯s eyes lit up, and it seemed that even Dahr managed to perk up a bit.


    Then it was lesson time.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of history to talk about, so I want to get into it,¡± said Leata. ¡°Can anyone tell me who Twyl¡¯s strongest ally is?¡±


    ¡°Andara¡±, said Eric with certainty.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. The ruling family of Twyl is of Andaran descent. It¡¯s our ancestry, but it is not what we have become.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t Andara mostly primitive?¡± asked Chari.


    Leata chuckled good-naturedly. ¡°I suspect that¡¯s what you¡¯ve been taught, but it¡¯s not quite how it is. Andara, it¡¯s true, is largely populated by nomadic peoples, with fewer, smaller permanent settlements, but that doesn¡¯t make a people primitive. It¡¯s just that Andarans don¡¯t farm, and as a result, they don¡¯t need to stay in one place. They follow the herds which gives them their food.¡±


    ¡°But why not plant food and settle down? Why live a life of wandering?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s the life they know and presumably love. There are advantages to settling down, but there are disadvantages too. If a blight occurs, or a bad winter, or too much rain, or not enough rain, what happens to your crop?¡±


    ¡°It fails?¡± asked Chari.


    Leata nodded. ¡°Yes. It fails. And when your crop fails, you now have large groups of people all depending upon a crop. People that need that nourishment. People that will starve without it, particularly if they don¡¯t have enough saved to last them the winter.  That population can¡¯t just easily move to another place and plant again, it takes too long for crops to grow.


    ¡°But nomadic hunter societies can move about and go where the game is, because they don¡¯t have permanent structures, they tend to have more dispersed populations and they aren¡¯t depending on a single food source to be viable. If you can¡¯t hunt, you can fish. If you can¡¯t fish, you can gather. It¡¯s a viable strategy.¡±


    Chari wasn¡¯t to be dissuaded from her argument. ¡°But we can fish and hunt too. So why is it better to wander around the countryside than settle down?¡±


    ¡°Because when you farm, the population centers are larger, and when you hunt around a densely populated area, you need to bring in far more game to feed more people. Those areas would quickly become over-hunted. Over-fished too. There¡¯d be less and less fish during the drought or blight. People would have to divide food further. Some would get sick and die. It¡¯s not that such disasters can¡¯t be survived. The rich and the nobility will buy their food, even if they have to source that food from far away. They¡¯re not going to starve. It¡¯s the common folk, the poor, the workers who¡¯ll starve.¡±


    Chari was about to answer, clearly wanting to win the argument, but instead she stopped and thought about what Leata was saying.


    ¡°What about rich people in Andara? Can¡¯t they just buy food?¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t any rich people in Andara, at least not the way you think of rich people. Tribes share what they have. Very little is individually owned. Remember, they don¡¯t even own the land they¡¯re hunting on.¡±


    Chari thought about this, rolling the idea around in her head. ¡°So what if someone claims that land, and builds a castle on it and starts defending it?¡±


    ¡°Then the tribes would get together and take them down, because at the end of the day, they see that lifestyle is less than their own. You see them as primitives, but they see you in much the same way. Fighting over land and borders and boundaries that don¡¯t even exist except as lines on paper. Petty squabbles that lead to conflicts, even wars. Not that there isn¡¯t conflict in Andara, but it¡¯s seldom settled through combat.¡±


    ¡°If you like it so much, why are you living in a castle?¡± asked Chari.


    Eric placed a hand over his face and shook his head.


    Dahr laughed. ¡°I thought it was a good question.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m living in a castle because that¡¯s where my king lives. The reason he lives here is because a long time ago, the king who lived in this castle decided he wanted to build a castle in Andara and claim that land for himself. The tribes of Andara marched on the Kingdom of Lethe and, against everyone¡¯s predictions, at least every Lethian prediction, the Andaran¡¯s won. They left a ruler here a hundred years ago, renamed the kingdom to Twyl, and that family, Eric and Dahr¡¯s family, have ruled here ever since. Pretty good for a few primitives.¡±


    Chari didn¡¯t say anything for a long time. Eric could see her trying desperately to come up with something to save face, but to do so, would mean insulting the lineage of her hosts. Eric came to her rescue.


    ¡°You know, while it¡¯s true that the Andarans won the war, we learned a lot from the Lethians as well.¡±


    He was about to say more, when Leata cut him off.


    ¡°Indeed we did. Every country has something they can share. Something we can learn from. It¡¯s an important lesson. Lethe learned from Andara, Andara learned from Lethe.¡±


    ¡°What could we learn from Xarinos, do you think?¡± asked Dahr, fascinated.


    Leata looked at him, opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and finally shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. The Undead King runs a large kingdom, but it seems to me their problems are very different from our problems. For example, undead don¡¯t have to eat, which is why drought and famine wouldn¡¯t affect them.¡±


    ¡°If they don¡¯t have to eat, why are there undead farmers?¡±


    ¡°Who told you that?¡± asked Leata, genuinely curious.


    Dahr looked almost panicked for a second. Then he schooled his expression and replied. ¡°Never mind. It was just something I heard. I¡¯m sorry for interrupting.¡±


    Leata gave him a long, considered stare, but Dahr just looked back at her blinking innocently. Eric knew that there was more Dahr wasn¡¯t saying and was pretty sure Leata knew it too, but he knew there was no chance of getting that information out of Dahr short of torturing him. He had to remember to ask Dahr about it when no one else was around.


    ¡°Dahr, the Plains of Xarinos are a desolate wasteland. Nothing grows there. Nothing can grow there. There would be no farmers, because there¡¯s not enough water. The soil is barren like it¡¯s been cursed.¡±


    Dahr looked thoughtful. ¡°How would anyone know that if we can¡¯t go there?¡±


    Leata opened her mouth to answer, and closed it again. ¡°I never thought to ask, but surely some people have infiltrated the kingdom and brought out reports. Maybe even the Fellowship could have gotten information out of Xarinos.


    Dahr leaned forward. ¡°The Fellowship? Can you tell us about them?¡±


    Leata shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know enough about them to trust the information I have. They¡¯ve isolated themselves from the rest of the world for a reason.¡±


    ¡°But sometimes, some of them go out into the world, right? Have you ever met one?¡± asked Dahr.


    Leata shook her head. ¡°No. And I think we should get back to it. We have a lot to cover.¡±


    The lesson continued for a while, covering Karmenon, Final Hope and Melar. Chari was happy to chime in here and add detail to what Leata was saying. It was clear she was proud of her kingdom. That made Eric happy.


    The discussion on Melar, however, was cut short by Lord Ormund¡¯s appearance. It was time to learn about magic.


    *


    The three young royals were exhausted, but Kalutu felt fine. He wasn¡¯t even sure he could get tired, though he had no idea why.


    Lord Ormund had brought them to a room that might have been a meeting room of some kind, and though fairly small, it was well appointed. A finely woven rug sat beneath the central table, and mosaics on each wall depicted different magical elemental symbols; flame red tiles for fire, a rich cerulean blue for water, a lighter sky blue for air and a deep woody brown for earth.


    The five of them sat around a large circular table on fairly comfortable seats. Kalutu felt odd sitting with everyone else instead of standing, but Lord Ormund had insisted.


    ¡°Since some of you have never been exposed to magic before, I¡¯ll start with a bit of a demonstration.¡±


    Lord Ormund pointed a finger, whispered a brief incantation and colorful sparks shot out. The young royals were all impressed, but Kalutu wasn¡¯t. The spell didn¡¯t seem very useful and wasted what little time they had.


    ¡°Every spell is the same, no matter who¡¯s casting it,¡± said Lord Ormund. ¡°In other words, they all follow the same format. There are three sections to each casting. The first section is called Protu, which in the old speech means power. It sets the power at which the spell is cast. In some ways, it¡¯s the most important section of the spell. We call sections syllables. So the first syllable of any given spell sets the limit of the power. Can anyone tell me why that¡¯s important?¡±


    Everyone was surprised when Dahr spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s so that you can¡¯t use too much power and blow yourself up.¡±


    Lord Ormund smiled at him. ¡°Excellent. That¡¯s correct. Limiting the power of the spell allows you to cast it safely. How did you know that, Dahr?¡±


    ¡°I just thought it was obvious.¡±


    Lord Ormund looked at him thoughtfully. ¡°Very well. Does anyone know what the second syllable of each spell is called.¡±


    ¡°Segra,¡± said Eric, confidently.


    ¡°Good! And what does Segra control?¡±


    Eric continued as he¡¯d previously learned some of the basics. ¡°Segra opens the door to some other plane of existence. It defines the size and shape of the door.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Well done, my prince. So the third syllable then¡­¡±


    ¡°Sets the parameters for the rest of the spell,¡± Dahr blurted out. Everyone turned to look at him.


    ¡°How do you know that?¡± asked Lord Ormund. ¡°And don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s obvious.¡±


    Dahr looked embarrassed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how I know. But I think that the rest of the spell defines what it is. There¡¯s power, then definition and form.¡±


    Lord Ormund¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°How do you know those terms? I haven¡¯t even started teaching that to Eric. Tell me, at once!¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t know. It¡¯s just¡­I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Lord Ormund stared at Dahr disbelievingly.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t. Why would I lie?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, okay. We can talk about it later. Let¡¯s continue. In order to cast a spell, with a few notable exceptions, you have to use the proper words in Aldevarian, the old speech, to open the door to another dimension. When I caused sparks to fly from my fingers, I cast a spell, saying words in the old speech that defined the power, the place the energy would come from and set the parameters of the spell so it behaved the way I wanted it to.¡±


    Dahr held out his finger and stared at it. Sparks emerged, much the same as they had from Lord Ormund, except that when he pointed his finger higher, the sparks began to form into the shapes of various animals¨C birds of prey, lizards, spiders, snakes, even a dragon, mythical though they were. So many shapes, in every color of the rainbow, glowing, pulsating with energy, leaving behind trails of colored smoke as they ascended toward the ceiling.


    ¡°How are you doing that?¡± asked Lord Ormund, a note of irritation in his voice that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    ¡°I¡¯m copying what you did.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do...that! And you didn¡¯t cast a spell. You didn¡¯t say anything.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°You can cast spells without using a vocal component. You just said so.¡±


    Lord Ormund looked flabbergasted. ¡°No. I said that under certain circumstances it can be done. I can¡¯t do it myself. You shouldn¡¯t be able to cast it at all.¡±


    The sparks coming from Dahr¡¯s finger formed an antelope of some kind. A moment later a wolf appeared on its heels.  The wolf chased down the antelope, leapt on it, sinking its teeth into the flesh of its neck. They both broke apart into a fine mist and vanished.¡±


    ¡°No one can do that!¡±


    Eric looked both impressed and amused. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    Chari goggled at the display. ¡°Dahr, this is amazing!¡±


    As suddenly as it started, the sparks faded. Dahr looked around at the rest of them. ¡°Why are you all staring at me?¡±


    Kalutu finally spoke. ¡°Do you not remember what you just did?¡±


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°I was listening to Lord Ormund explain magic, and I think I might have dozed off. I¡¯m sorry, Lord Ormund. I¡¯m very tired.¡±


    They all stared at him, but none harder than Lord Ormund.


    ¡°I think that might be enough for today. Let¡¯s get you all to bed.¡±


    No one said anything on the way back to their respective quarters, but Kalutu kept a very close eye on Dahr. If Dahr hadn¡¯t been the one to cast that spell, who had?

 Chapter 13 - Memories of Battle

    Seventh of Learning 1142


    Striker stood silently, bow held steady, arrow knocked and ready to let fly. She paused, inhaled and released both the arrow and breath at the same time. She watched it fly straight into the side of a plump rabbit, which hadn¡¯t begun to suspect it was going to die. Another one of those, and they wouldn¡¯t have to break out rations for dinner.


    ¡°What did that rabbit ever do to you?¡± asked Garne.


    ¡°He insulted me by looking tasty. I don¡¯t look that tasty.¡±


    Garne studied her but didn¡¯t take the bait. Striker couldn¡¯t figure out if he was shy or disinterested.¡¯¡¯


    Ressssen decided it might be timely to chime in. ¡°I think you look quite tasty, but my jaws won¡¯t open wide enough to sssswallow you whole.¡±


    The rest of them shook their heads, except for Merck who was, after all, an outsider.


    Striker fell into step beside Garne.


    ¡°I hope I don¡¯t make you uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°What? Oh¡­¡±, he laughed. ¡°Not at all. You¡¯re certainly attractive, you don¡¯t need me to tell you that. But I don¡¯t want to give the wrong impression either. I was in a relationship with a team member once. It didn¡¯t end well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be sorry about. I just remember how it felt when we lost her, and...I can¡¯t go through that again. I can¡¯t.¡±


    She could feel the pain and anger driving his words, a mere glimpse of the anguish he kept locked inside. This was a side of Garne that Striker hadn¡¯t known. He seemed largely carefree. Maybe a bit violent, but all adventurers could lay claim to that at some point. Even Borin, their healer, could be driven to great anger under the right circumstances, though she¡¯d only witnessed it once.


    ¡°I understand. I¡¯ll try to remember in the future.¡±


    Garne shook his head emphatically. ¡°No. Don¡¯t change your behavior on my account. You¡¯re fine as you are. Whatever issues I have, and I have plenty, they¡¯re mine to deal with. No one should have to change their behavior for me. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    A moment later, he threw a knife and neatly skewered a rabbit that Striker hadn¡¯t noticed, distracted as she was by the conversation.


    ¡°I suspect this is a dangerous place to be a rabbit,¡± she said.


    Garne shrugged. ¡°Danger is everywhere, whether you¡¯re a rabbit or not.¡±


    He grew silent, and Striker knew he was thinking about his team member. She wanted to ask what had happened but decided against it. If he wanted to tell her, he would. Secrets¡­ they all had them.


    She slowed her pace and allowed the group to walk in front of her. The back of the party was her usual spot, using her keen senses to keep half an eye behind them. This was only the first day of what was at least a four day walk, but probably five or six depending on how far they could push the Priest. She considered moving forward to get a better read on him, then decided against it. Let Ressssen handle him. Striker had an uncomfortable feeling that Merck Vanderoth¡¯s presence among them was going to complicate her life in ways she couldn¡¯t yet imagine. And she had a pretty decent imagination.


    *


    Eric, Dahr and Kalutu were in the anteroom of their quarters. Eric and Dahr were preparing for bed, and Kalutu was standing to the side, watching the two young men. He watched them strip off their clothes and wash up, first pouring water into basins that looked too expensive to trust to any of the young men he¡¯d known previously, and then using a cloth to scrub the accumulated sweat and grime from their bodies. After, he watched Eric drink a cup of red liquid which he understood to be his medicine. There was a lot he wanted to ask, but as tired as his masters were, he wasn¡¯t sure this was the time. He was trying to organize his thoughts, when there was a knock on the door.


    Before anyone could answer, the door opened and Chari slipped in. Fortunately, Eric and Dahr had already put on robes.


    ¡°Hi,¡± said Eric, as if he¡¯d expected her to drop by for tea and biscuits.


    Dahr was less welcoming. ¡°What are you doing here, Chari?¡±


    ¡°We need to talk. And we need to do it where no one can overhear.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡± asked Eric.


    Chari met Eric¡¯s eyes. ¡°Something is going on. That much is obvious. Things are happening that don¡¯t usually happen at all, let alone all at the same time. It seems to be centered around the two of you, but then you were in my dream during my transition, so I feel like I¡¯m involved too. We¡¯re being trained to be ready for anything, but no one knows how to train us.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Tank, Eric. Dahr is...I don¡¯t know what Dahr is, nor does anyone else. I¡¯m a Warrior. Everyone knows how to train me, but what about you two?¡±


    It was a good question, and no one had an answer for it.


    She turned her attention to Dahr. ¡°As for you, we know you¡¯re holding back from us. I figure there¡¯s a good reason for that, or you¡¯d at least tell Eric. And I think you haven¡¯t because of Eric¡¯s reactions when around you. I think the three of us need to trust each other.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you my class, because if I do bad things will happen,¡± said Dahr. ¡°George told me this. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t want to tell you.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean bad things will happen?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°He said it would be the end of everything.¡±


    ¡°Telling us your class would be the end of everything?¡± asked Chari. ¡°How exactly does that work?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± said Dahr. ¡°No one has ever heard of my class. It¡¯s one of a kind. No one knows what it is or does. I don¡¯t even know my own skills.¡±


    ¡°What are the odds of two brothers getting unknown classes, almost at the exact same time. Or sharing a familiar for the first time ever. Sheba showed up at the palace and said we need to be trained, all three of us. We¡¯re in this together. We have to start trusting each other.¡±


    ¡°But Dahr said that bad things would happen if he told us his class,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°You remember the amazing things Dahr was doing with magic today. I don¡¯t believe that was Dahr at all.¡±


    Eric looked thoughtful. ¡°You think it was George.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± said Dahr, and they all looked at him.


    Dahr¡¯s demeanor had changed. He was no longer tired. No longer a boy. In fact, even though he wore the same body, Kalutu didn¡¯t think he was human at that moment.


    ¡°It¡¯s George, isn¡¯t it?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°In the flesh,¡± replied Dahr/George. ¡°Just not my flesh. In fact, I don¡¯t have flesh at all.¡±


    ¡°We need answers,¡± demanded Chari.


    ¡°You¡¯re the feisty one. Too bad you pledged your service to Sheba. You and I could have had a lot of fun working together.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Kalutu demanded. ¡°What hold do you have on Prince Dahr?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve claimed him. Sometimes a person chooses who he serves, sometimes it¡¯s chosen for him. Sheba doesn¡¯t seem to mind.¡±


    Eric didn¡¯t look impressed. ¡°Royalty usually gets to choose who they serve.¡±


    ¡°Usually is not always and anyway, when I claimed Dahr he was still a servant, not a noble. In any case it¡¯s done and can not be undone.¡±


    ¡°What do you want from Dahr?¡± demanded Eric.


    ¡°Access. Only that. Dahr isn¡¯t just important to me. He¡¯s important to everyone. Didn¡¯t Sheba herself tell you that my presence in Dahr aids her cause?¡±


    Eric started to reply but forced himself to stop and think. The being, whatever or whoever it was, was correct. This was part of Sheba¡¯s will.


    ¡°Better,¡± said the creature in a voice that was very much Dahr¡¯s and yet very much something else as well. ¡°Listen to me, because there isn¡¯t much time. Dahr will remember this conversation. He can trust the two of you and share everything he knows.  But he has made a promise to me, and you both must keep this promise as well. My identity and his class must be kept secret. If you can agree to that, then Dahr can tell you what he knows.¡±


    Eric nodded immediately, but Chari wasn¡¯t convinced.


    ¡°What¡¯s to stop us from agreeing and then revealing what he told us anyway?¡±


    ¡°Consequences. I told Dahr that everything depends on this secret. If you reveal it, your actions will cause the end of life as you know it. Are you willing to take that risk?¡±


    Chari shook her head, both in denial and disbelief. ¡°That makes no sense. How can knowing anything bring about the end of life.¡±


    ¡°The universe, the world made of worlds, is more complicated than you know. There are events that must happen, but in order for them to happen, people must not know why they are happening. Knowing will affect their actions which could change that which must be. Once people know Dahr¡¯s class, he will become a target. If he were to die, then what he needs to do can not be done.  Dahr is the only one that can do what needs to be done, for he is the only one of his kind. Do you understand now?¡±


    ¡°But if people don¡¯t know his class, how will finding out the name of the class change anything? No one has ever heard of it, right?¡±


    ¡°No one had ever heard of Defender before the first Defender, and yet, people were able to figure out things about it without being told. Humans are particularly adept at putting clues together to solve puzzles. Most of the sentient races are. We are racing against time. Even if someone heard the name, and grew curious about the class and detained Dahr, it could spell failure for his mission.¡±


    ¡°What mission?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°You are not ready to learn the nature of the mission yet. Someone is missing. He is on the way, but his arrival will take some time.¡±


    Chari stared at him, as if trying to divine the truth by force of will alone, but at last she nodded. It wasn¡¯t a reluctant gesture, not a resigned one. Chari had thought about it, understood and made up her mind. She would not reveal Dahr¡¯s class to anyone.


    ¡°I have one final question,¡± said Chari.


    ¡°Ask.¡±


    ¡°Why did you take over Dahr¡¯s body when Lord Ormund was trying to teach us magic. What did it accomplish?¡±


    ¡°Ah. Lord Ormund is a fool. He¡¯s talented enough, for a mortal, but he¡¯s full of ambition and self-importance.  He thinks he¡¯s on the verge of great power when he is only scratching the surface. When a man like that sees someone he deems to be little more than a boy holding such power, it teaches him an important lesson. Some lessons are more fun to teach than others. I took pleasure in showing Lord Ormund he is not all he thinks he is. But he was not injured in learning that lesson.¡±


    Chari¡¯s stare hadn¡¯t wavered, but she nodded as if satisfied, then Dahr¡¯s body relaxed, and he was back.


    ¡°Woah,¡± said Dahr.


    ¡°Are you all right, Dahr?¡± asked Kalutu.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay. It just feels weird when I play host to George. Even weirder when he leaves me. It¡¯s like I was more than I am, and then I¡¯m less again. It¡¯s strange to feel so powerful and then lose it. Though if I¡¯m not mistaken, some of it remains behind. I end up knowing things I had no way of knowing. Like I¡¯d learned something but can¡¯t remember where I¡¯d learned it. Sometimes, I don¡¯t realize it right away, and then suddenly it falls into place when something reminds me of it.¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°That sounds useful,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°It¡¯s not really. It¡¯s not like I can control it. I get little hints of things that I probably shouldn¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think that George is intentionally leaving information behind, it¡¯s more like part of what he knows relates to what I know, so I retain just a drop of it.¡±


    Chari looked suspicious. ¡°That sounds like something you probably shouldn¡¯t know. You should hear how you sound.¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s the thing. I don¡¯t know what information was in my mind before and what was added by George¡¯s presence.¡±


    ¡°Is that a part of your class?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°I have no idea. All I really know is that I¡¯m a Level 1 Nexus. Remember, you can¡¯t tell anyone. I mean it.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what that is?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t. And I don¡¯t know any of my skills either, except for the ability to summon a familiar. I think we were fortunate to get Kalutu.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think fortune had anything to do with this. When George bound you to him, he knew what he was doing, and so, I think, did Sheba.¡±


    The four stood looking at each other, weighing the words Prince Eric had just said. Spoken like that, it was obvious. Whatever was happening, it was beyond them. They didn¡¯t have enough information to disobey the beings that had accepted them into their service. As such, they would have to obey in ignorance, trusting that the higher beings wouldn¡¯t lead them astray.  For the humans in the room, that might have been easy, but Kalutu had never been touched by a god, and he wasn¡¯t as certain as the others that all greater beings always had humanity¡¯s best interests at heart. He didn¡¯t share this information however.


    The three young royals had quite enough to be thinking about.


    *


    Eighth of Learning 1142


    King Terrence sat on his throne, looking vexed. Lord Ormund, the overweight, boisterous and very capable mage stood beside the slighter, more reserved form of Leata, the chamberlain. Almost all kings had male chamberlains but Terrence didn¡¯t hold with that sort of nonsense. There was a clear best person for the job, and he had chosen her.


    Lord Ormund had already described how Dahr had upstaged him. To the king it seemed he was more annoyed at being made to look foolish than by the impossibility of the act itself. Dahr had cast a spell with no incantation? A spell that was beyond one of his own court mystics?


    Leata was speaking now, and he listened to her report on the boys¡¯ education. King Terrence thought she¡¯d finished, but she added one final detail.


    ¡°Dahr asked why the undead need farmers.¡±


    ¡°What did you tell him?¡± asked Terrence.


    ¡°I asked him where he¡¯d heard they have farmers. It¡¯s preposterous I know, and I probably wouldn¡¯t have brought it up at all if not for the experience Lord Ormund related.  The boy knows things that he shouldn¡¯t know. And undead farmers? I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing.¡±


    ¡°Nor have most people,¡± said the king softly. ¡°The undead indeed do have farmers. They are not, however, what you might think they are, though how Dahr could possibly know of them is beyond me. People don¡¯t speak of it. Those that were there on the front lines though, some of them will remember.¡±


    ¡°Do you think he overheard soldiers talking about it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but he certainly didn¡¯t overhear how to cast that spell. No, I think Dahr¡¯s source of information is far more powerful.¡±


    ¡°His hidden god,¡± Leata realized.


    The king nodded. ¡°I think I need to have a chat with the boys. Leata, send someone to fetch them. I want to talk to them as soon as possible.¡±


    The chamberlain moved off to follow the king¡¯s instructions. The mage, realizing he had been dismissed, bowed and backed away before turning and leaving the throne room. The king glanced at Treya¡¯s empty throne and wished she were here, but she was with Princess Chari and Queen Rhea breaking their fast. Ah well, she¡¯ll turn up eventually, though he could use her council now.


    It was all getting away from him. Dahr summoning a familiar, casting complex spells without training. Unbelievable. Only Sheba¡¯s reassurance took the edge off his growing nervousness. She had talked about world changing events. World changing events that his sons would be part of. What could he do to protect them that he wasn¡¯t already doing? Should he even interfere? Should he not trust the goddess of honor to see them through whatever was ahead of them? They were men now, after all, even if Dahr was younger than that normally took place.


    Was his lack of faith the reason he hadn¡¯t leveled in so long? He¡¯d been Level 19 for ages now. It wasn¡¯t unusual for people to have a level cap, a natural ceiling they could not surpass. And in truth, reaching Tier 3 was extremely rare. Level 19 was a high level by anyone¡¯s standards, but Terrence still felt like he wasn¡¯t good enough. And then Sheba had visited him in the throne room. She had come. She had shown him favor. And he no longer believed he wasn¡¯t good enough. He should trust his goddess. He knew that. And he did¡ªup until the mention of the undead. Why had Dahr brought up undead farmers?


    King Terrence thought about the goddess¡¯s warning, about the mention of undead, about Dahr¡¯s strange powers and started to suspect they were all connected. The Undead King had been silent for a long time, or rather, news from that realm had been hard to acquire and the rare tidbits he had received told him nothing out of the ordinary. Was the Undead King preparing for war again? Had he rebuilt his armies? Did he have some new strategy or weapon?


    Terrence didn¡¯t know why he thought this way. Perhaps it was his own personal experience with the undead, brought to the surface by what Leata had told him. Maybe it was only his nerves getting the better of him, but King Terrence had learned long ago to trust his instincts. Regardless of the reason his thoughts had turned to Xarinos, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to give the boys at least some information about the Undead War. After all, Dahr had been conceived during them.


    The strangeness of everything that had passed felt like a great weight on the king¡¯s soul. He leaned back on his throne and closed his eyes.  He was tired. Tired of being out of control and not knowing what was going on. And yet that was what the goddess required of him.  He breathed in deeply and slowly released his breath. He continued to repeat the process, until Leata returned with his two sons.


    He had found some balance while awaiting their arrival, so he smiled now as they approached and knelt.


    ¡°Get up, both of you. It¡¯s time we had a talk.¡±


    Eric looked up expectantly, but Dahr looked unhappy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Dahr. I won¡¯t ask you anything that will get you in trouble with your god.¡±


    Dahr nodded, relieved.


    ¡°I did want to ask you about a comment you made, however. Tell me, what do you know of undead farmers?¡±


    ¡°Nothing really. Only that they exist.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me where you heard about them?¡±


    ¡°I have visions. I saw one during a vision, but it was in passing.¡±


    ¡°Visions? Do you have them often?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s okay to talk about them,¡± replied Dahr, hesitantly.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s talk about something else. Since you¡¯ve seen undead in one of these visions, let me tell you a bit about them.¡±


    Both of the boys leaned forward expectantly. King Terrence sat back on his throne and stared off into the distance, remembering. How could he begin to explain the fear, the tension of waiting, the pain of seeing so many good men fall, the mad vicious attacks that came without warning. The need to live just one more day so you could take the fight back to the enemy. There were no words. No words. Yet his sons stood waiting for him to speak. They expected him to share this festering wound on his soul. They expected him to prepare them for what was to come. He prayed with all his might to Sheba that whatever was coming, it had nothing to do with Xarinos or the Undead King. He didn¡¯t know how long he sat there, haunted, scared to even begin to speak for fear of the nightmares returning. Finally, the king drew a deep breath and heard his own voice as if from a great distance.


    ¡°When the undead attacked Death¡¯s Doorstep, the entire world united against them. Everyone understood the threat, so each kingdom sent as many troops as they could. The force arrayed against the Undead King was unprecedented. Enemy kingdoms that hadn¡¯t spoken in years fought side by side against the greater threat.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± interrupted Dahr. ¡°What was the threat?¡±


    The king¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. With all Dahr seemed to know, this gap in his knowledge felt odd to say the least. ¡°When you bury something on the Plains of Xarinos, it doesn¡¯t stay dead. We didn¡¯t understand at first. Every time they attacked us, we lost people and they lost people. But their people came back and ours didn¡¯t. Until they did. The Undead took our corpses and buried them. And when they came back, they were changed.¡±


    ¡°Changed how?¡± asked Dahr, fascinated.


    ¡°When you¡¯re at war, even if you¡¯re king, you can grow close to the men you¡¯re fighting with. One of my favorites was an archer named Kerren. He was a fine shot, and as brave as any man I¡¯d ever met. An optimist by nature, Kerren never expected to die, but he did, when the undead over ran our fortified position through sheer strength of numbers. We were driven back, forced to retreat, but not all of us made it out.


    ¡°The undead were everywhere. Many looked like normal people, but others¡­¡±


    ¡°What did they look like,¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Things that were once people. Areas of their body missing or gouged out. Covered in scars from wounds that healed after they were dead. Missing eyes, or ears or even part of their face. And yet some looked like any other warrior on any other battlefield, but that just made it more surreal. They were all dead, and they came for us.¡±


    The king blew out his breath as if he were in physical pain. ¡°Kerren had stayed behind to cover our retreat, but he had waited too long. When I¡¯d risked a look back he was surrounded. I watched as he was stabbed over and over again. I saw him fall. He fought till the very end, but there were so damned many. And when he finally was too weak to lash out, the undead left him there bleeding out on the ground. I couldn¡¯t help him. I couldn¡¯t go back for him. All I could do was flee so that his sacrifice was not in vain.¡±


    The king closed his eyes, the memories draped across his consciousness like a death shroud. He kept his eyes closed, as he pictured what came next.


    ¡°I slowed to help some injured soldiers escape, and that was my undoing. One of the undead threw a javelin and it pierced my side. I stumbled and went down. The world was chaos around me. I tried to get away from the fighting, to get to safety but I crawled off an embankment instead and fell out of sight. It¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m alive today. I lay there for a long time, bleeding into the parched ground, half alive, barely conscious. Then the battle ended and the undead withdrew.


    ¡°Our soldiers came back later to burn the corpses, but there were none. The undead had taken them. Apparently taking corpses had been the reason for the attack. They weren¡¯t trying to gain ground. They were building their own forces at our expense. How can you defeat a foe that gets stronger as you get weaker?¡±


    ¡°How did you?¡± asked Eric. ¡°It seems impossible.¡±


    The king opened his eyes, shifted his gaze to his eldest son and nodded.


    ¡°It took a long time, but remember, it was every kingdom in the world against them. As we discovered their tactics, we were able to drive them back to their land. But only at great cost to ourselves and only by outnumbering them twenty to one. We won the battle, but we couldn¡¯t take it back to them on the plains, where we¡¯d all just fall and come back as the enemy. No one wanted that.¡±


    ¡°I saw him again, you know. Months later, on the battlefield, fighting for them. My friend, Kerren. There was fighting everywhere when we saw each other. He was just a few feet away from me, holding a bow as he had so often when he was alive. He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes. He didn¡¯t attack me, and I didn¡¯t attack him. We just stared at each other.


    ¡°It¡¯s not what you think,¡± he said, and he sounded so much like himself that I stopped and listened.


    ¡°What¡¯s not?


    ¡°The undead. We¡¯re not the threat you think.¡±


    ¡°We were two old friends stopping to chat in the middle of a storm, but we never felt the rain. The battle raged around us, but nothing attacked from either side, as if destiny had a hand in protecting us so we could say a proper goodbye.


    ¡°I looked into his eyes. I had seen him die, but here he was, having a conversation as if it had never happened. He was so much like him. I wanted so much to believe he had survived, but Kerren hated the undead more than anyone. There is no way he¡¯d ever fight for them. He¡¯d lost too many of his own friends in those battles. To see him defending them now... I was horrified.


    ¡°My answer to the last words he spoke to me was a sword through his throat. I set him free. It was the least I could do. We won that battle, and I made sure to burn the body so they couldn¡¯t bury it again. Undead farmers don¡¯t grow food, Dahr. They grow soldiers. They tend to the corpses they plant into the ground, nurturing them in ways known only to themselves, growing a loyal and dedicated army.


    ¡°It¡¯s true we did eventually end the war, and that the Undead King never dared attack again, because he knows we¡¯ll all gather against him. By the same token, we can¡¯t take the battle back to him. It¡¯s an endless stalemate.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t we just portal an army into the heart of Xarinos?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°No,¡± said the king. ¡°Even if a mage ever penetrated far enough into the undead kingdom to study it enough to form a portal, the power to teleport enough men through would be far beyond a single man.¡±


    ¡°But there are many mages that can portal. If they were coordinated¡­¡± Eric stopped speaking when King Terrence shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s irrelevant anyway. Portals don¡¯t work on the plains, nor do scrying spells. Whatever protections the Undead King employs, they are equal to our efforts to break them. No one has ever seen inside the Undead King¡¯s castle. We¡¯d be entering enemy territory blind. Even if we outnumbered them, we would be at a serious disadvantage. The supply lines alone...it would be impossible. Eric, we¡¯ve had our best strategists working on this for nearly fifteen years. If there was a way, they¡¯d have found it by now. As for you, Dahr, I don¡¯t know why your god showed you an undead farmer, but I fear the Undead King is preparing for war.¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡± asked Dahr, eyes wide.


    ¡°Because you were shown a vision of the undead, and Sheba has told us the world is going to change and danger is coming. It disturbs me. I was lucky to live through that war, and I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯m going to lose either of my boys to another one.¡±


    Dahr looked doubtful. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°No. My god, he...he¡¯s not very big on details. He keeps a lot of secrets. Even his name. I just have this feeling.¡±


    ¡°What feeling?¡±


    ¡°A war won¡¯t target me and Eric specifically, and though I can¡¯t say for sure, I believe that whatever is coming is coming for us directly.¡±


    The king leaned forward. ¡°Then I¡¯m going to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen. I¡¯ll post a team of guards on you all day and all night.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°You can¡¯t stop this father. Dahr and I have to do this. That¡¯s why Sheba asked us to be trained.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t expect me not to try and protect you.¡±


    ¡°Training us is protecting us. It¡¯s what the goddess asked of you. Nothing more.¡±


    The king¡¯s face hardened, but he didn¡¯t reply immediately. He scrutinized the two boys¡­ no, young men. He had to keep reminding himself that. When he spoke, his voice was laced with resignation.


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll make sure you get the training you need. Just let me know if there¡¯s anything else I can do. I just wish we knew when all this will begin.¡±


    Dahr smiled, wryly. ¡°It¡¯s already begun.¡±


    The king sat up straighter. ¡°When? How do you know?¡±


    ¡°It began the moment I entered Eric¡¯s initiation. I know because I was there. Because my nameless class tells me it is so.  I know whatever is coming isn¡¯t going to sneak up on us. It will demand our attention.¡±


    ¡°You sound so sure,¡± said the king. ¡°Is that you talking, Dahr, or is it your god?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me, father. But I still know. Ummm, is it okay that I call you that?¡±


    The king drew a breath. It was the first time Dahr had ever called him father. He felt a surge of mixed emotions, too many to sort out all at the same time. Surprise, happiness, pride, guilt both for straying from his marital vows and waiting so long to acknowledge Dahr as his son, discomfort...he wanted to look at the reactions of others in the room, but he only had eyes for his younger son. His son, who he had all but ignored for so many years. He fought back the surge of emotions and nodded.


    ¡°Of course you can call me that. You¡¯re my son after all. What else would you call me?¡±


    Dahr smiled relief, and when the king glanced at Eric he saw a broad smile on his older son¡¯s face as well. The others in the room schooled their reactions, though the king thought Leata approved. Though he wanted to savor the moment, the king let it pass. There was too much to do.


    ¡°Leata, start their next lesson. Push them as hard as you think you can, then push a bit more. If training is all we can give them, training they shall have.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±


    She bowed briefly, turned and made her way from the throne room, only stopping briefly at the door to make sure both of the princes were following.

 Chapter 14 - Charis Best Behavior

    Tenth of Learning 1142


    Ressssen sat near the campfire. As a reptile, she could move and function at different temperatures but usually became more sluggish at night at this time of year.  There were mechanisms to compensate for extreme temperatures, but they all burned mana. There was no need to do so at this time. It was better to hang on to her magic reserves for spell casting, should it become necessary.


    Actually, they had yet to see any real cold this year, but the memory of other nights kept Ressssen close to the fire in anticipation of what was to come. It was still early in the fall, and it had remained warm until now, but the weather in these parts could change very quickly.


    She turned her attention from the flames to her team members, faces bathed in flickering shadows. The team provided a different type of warmth, just as necessary to her well-being. Each individual was known to her in some ways, yet completely unknown in others. That they all had secrets, she had no doubt, but snake lords were a perceptive folk, and Ressssen was perceptive even for her kind. Yet she didn¡¯t try to learn more than the others were willing to offer. She respected privacy.  Still, she did manage to glean some information here and there, probably more than most assumed.


    Garne hid his good-natured spirit behind a solid wall of apathy and antisocial behavior. He was gruff, unwelcoming, unlikable¡­ a lie told loudly to keep people at arm¡¯s length. He had a good heart. He cared about people but never showed it. Ressssen knew it had something to do with his last team, but she didn¡¯t pry.


    Borin was like most of his people. He was the Misfit¡¯s healer. This was a natural role for salads, sentient plants that were less of a race and more of a biological oddity. She knew that certain plants saturated with certain types of magic for long periods of time became sentient and with enough magic became mobile, imitating the forms of the first sentient creatures they found themselves exposed to. Should a sentient creature camp near a growing salad, it would start to take on its form. Some attempts have been made to farm salads, with varying degrees of success. But Salads exposed to residual healing magic seemed to be most viable, and thus it was natural that many of them became healers. Many of the few that existed. Ressssen knew she was lucky to have one, and that other teams were jealous when they saw him. He¡¯d received several offers from other teams, all of which he rejected. Why Borin had chosen to remain with the Misfits she didn¡¯t know, but she suspected it was due to the diverse nature of the group. Borin was infinitely curious about all sorts of things, so having multiple races to observe made this particular team a good choice for the salad.


    Striker was Striker. Dependable, flirty, driven by her sexual appetites, and unable to see her own value. Ressssen had no real clue what she had gone through in her life, but somewhere in her past, the girl had been abused.  Someone had hurt her badly. Until she came to terms with it, she would remain as she was. It didn¡¯t affect the Misfits however, and so it was none of her business.


    And then there was Dreek. Phase Shifters weren¡¯t uncommon, but they did not commonly become adventurers. They didn¡¯t trust most people, and most didn¡¯t trust them. As she understood it, phase shifters lived in two worlds, and this was only one of them. When they entered the other, they shifted ¡°out of phase¡± with this one and became intangible. Ressssen had asked about the other world, but Dreek couldn¡¯t or wouldn¡¯t describe it. Dreek did his job and didn¡¯t really interact with the rest of them, unless someone else initiated it. If she had to pick a single word to describe him, she¡¯d say he was professional.  As team leader, Ressssen appreciated it, considering the instabilities of the others.


    The team was strong, and Ressssen was happy with them all. She was less happy with Merck Vanderoth. The man had changed, that much was clear. Not only changed, but changed classes. He wasn¡¯t like a different person, he literally was a different person. No one on the team had ever heard of that happening, and Ressssen wasn¡¯t sure it had ever happened before. And yet he believed he had a solution to the undead problem, a thing of incalculable value. Getting to the capitol was only the first leg of the journey, and she was impatient to get on with it. But Merck Vanderoth was an unknown quantity, and that always scared her.


    The day¡¯s travel had been uneventful, and she was looking forward to an uneventful night, but they¡¯d keep watch anyway, of course.


    The two humans sat together with Borin beside them. Ressssen sat on the opposite side of the campfire, closer to its flames than the humans, basking in its warmth. Dreek was on patrol around the edges of the circle, in a different place each time she saw him. Merck sat by himself, silent, staring into the fire.


    She thought about waiting to talk to him, indeed, she didn¡¯t want to interrupt her private thoughts to start a conversation, but there were things she wanted to know, so she stood and moved to where the priest sat, absently trying to get the last piece of meat from a rabbit bone.


    ¡°It is time to talk, Priest.¡±


    ¡°Call me Merck, please. I know that our first meeting gives you no reason to trust me, so I don¡¯t ask for your trust, but I have been Merck my whole life. I have only been a Priest for a few days. It may be what I am now, but it is not who I am...yet at least. I am a new man. I don¡¯t know myself much better than you do right now.¡±


    Ressssen nodded. ¡°As you say, Merck. I wish to know more about what happened to you.¡±


    Merck nodded as if he had been expecting this conversation. ¡°There are things I can tell you, and things I can not. This is not my choice, but the will of my god. I do not even know how I know what I can and can¡¯t say, but I do know.¡±


    ¡°Let usssss ssstart with an easssy thing, then. You were a Swindler, and now you are not. Do you know how that happened?¡±


    He considered the rabbit bone, as if the answer to the question were etched in tiny letters along its length. Then he flung it into the fire and spoke.


    ¡°No. I lost my class and with it all my skills. I assume it was taken by my new god, but I don¡¯t know for sure. I have reason to suspect my old god, Tharin, was displeased with me. The old me wouldn¡¯t have understood the reasons, but I can see it now as clearly as I see the fire before me. I was addicted to sizzle. It was all that mattered to me.  A man can not have two masters. I believe that Tharin saw that he was no longer my first concern. I am ashamed that I acted so, for the God of Thieves saved me. I do not wish to elaborate further on that however.¡±


    ¡°Then I will ask no more. Tell me of your new god.¡±


    Merck looked uncomfortable. ¡°I am ashamed to say that I probably know almost as little as you do. I will attempt to serve him better than I did Tharin, for he has given me a second chance. Not many people get a second chance. Even fewer sizzle addicts. I do not take lightly what my god has done for me. But he has only asked one thing of me.¡±


    ¡°To find a boy.¡±


    ¡°Yes. He showed me the boy and told me to find him, and so I shall. I don¡¯t know how, or why, but I do know that it has something to do with ending the undead threat. I only wish I knew where to start.¡±


    ¡°How was the boy dressed?¡±


    ¡°Richly. He¡¯s a noble, or royalty. I can describe him. The problem is that I was high on sizzle when I saw him, and he was glowing and ghostly, so I didn¡¯t get that much detail. I would know him if I saw him.¡±


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    ¡°He had an accent?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. My god spoke through him, so it was my god¡¯s voice I heard. At least I assume that is the case. No boy could have a voice like the voice I heard.¡±


    Ressssen nodded. ¡°There are far fewer wealthy people than there are poor people, so there are fewer people you¡¯d have to see in each area. I have thought about this and I will ask the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to allow us to continue to accompany you. If they allow it, we will go from place to place, protecting you, and you will meet with nobles and royalty.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like it will be easy.¡±


    Ressssen chuckled, a sinister sound from the mouth of a serpent lord, emerging much like a stuttering hiss. ¡°It will be. Once the nobility hears of a chance to end the undead threat, they¡¯ll be lined up to see you. Even the Misfits of Karmenon would not be able to keep them away.  The problem won¡¯t be getting you in to see nobility, it will be holding them off so you can see them in an organized fashion. We will move from town to town until we find the boy for whom you search.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be that easy. Nothing is that easy.¡±


    They were words spoken with such conviction that Ressssen could almost feel the pain and hopelessness of the Priest¡¯s life within them.


    ¡°There will be challenges,¡± she agreed. ¡°I just don¡¯t think they will be the same challenges you are expecting to face. It is a valuable life lesson. The difficulty you are prepared for will not harm you. The difficulty you are unprepared for is the one that will take you down.¡±


    ¡°Wise words.¡±


    ¡°They are not mine. It is a transssslation of an old sssserpent lord saying.  Rest now. We still have at least another day of travel, and it may not be as uneventful as this one has been.¡±


    *


    Eleventh of Learning 1142


    Chari woke up to a light tapping on her bedroom door. She opened it, bleary eyed, completely exhausted from the last four days of training. The physical training was hard enough, but the constant mental bombardment had taken its toll on all of them, except perhaps Kalutu. She wondered what his deal was. No one should be able to keep that schedule and still have a spring to his step.


    She opened the door just a crack and before she could protest, Dahr pushed his way in and motioned for her to close it. Bemused she did.


    ¡°What is it, Dahr?¡±


    She tried, with mixed success she thought, to keep the irritation out of her voice. She needed sleep...a lot more sleep.


    ¡°You need to come with me. I have to show you something.¡±


    Chari groaned, but took another look at the young prince and realized that he was nervous, perhaps even scared. She sighed, pulled on a robe and followed him from the room. She had thought there would be guards, but they were nowhere to be seen. In fact, during the walk to the princes¡¯ quarters, they saw no one, as if only Chari and Dahr existed in the world. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Chari chided herself for her foolishness but couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the world she had woken to was different from the one she had fallen asleep in.


    She kept her thoughts to herself. Dahr was already nervous, and she didn¡¯t want to add her nonsense to whatever was on his mind. She wondered if she¡¯d be able to sleep when she finally returned to her room, but it didn¡¯t seem likely.


    Dahr took her back to his room. He led her past a watchful Kalutu who said nothing, though the were-owl followed when they entered Dahr¡¯s bedroom.


    It was the first time she had seen Dahr¡¯s sleeping chamber, but there wasn¡¯t much to it. It was a lot less messy than she¡¯d imagined it would be, having seen the quarters of other young men back in Melar. He may have been a prince, but this was still a servant¡¯s quarters. A bed, a good quality chest of drawers, but no different from the quarters of most personal servants she¡¯d seen. It didn¡¯t seem like Dahr had many possessions. He would probably move to bigger rooms at some point, when Leata got around to arranging it. With everything else going on, it wasn¡¯t likely her biggest priority.


    ¡°Dahr what is this about?¡±


    ¡°Earlier tonight, I was lying in bed, exhausted. I was aching and tired and thought I would sleep right away but I didn¡¯t. I hurt too much.¡±


    Chari nodded, understanding the issue. But Dahr wasn¡¯t finished.


    ¡°I was thinking about how hard the training was, and how slow the progress was, when I had a thought. What we really needed to do was train in the Other Realm. No one knows how to train me and Eric, but the gods must, right? Maybe they can help us level faster.¡±


    Chari thought about it a second, but shook her head. ¡°The gods told your father to train us. They didn¡¯t say anything about the Other Realm. I doubt Veloran would give us the potions if we asked for them, but I think even asking for them would be a mistake.¡±


    Dahr looked uncomfortable. He gestured to an open wooden crate on the floor by the far wall of the room. Chari walked over to it, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. She looked down but already knew what she¡¯d see.


    ¡°Dahr, where did you get this?¡±


    ¡°I went to sleep and had a dream. In the dream I snuck out of the castle, and into the temple. People didn¡¯t see me. I just carried it out and brought it here.¡±


    ¡°Dahr! You can get in a lot of trouble. For one thing, you shouldn¡¯t be wandering alone at night.¡± She turned to look at Kalutu. ¡°Didn¡¯t you try to stop him?¡±


    Kalutu looked down as he answered. ¡°I didn¡¯t see him, Your Highness. His door never opened, and I heard no sound. I had no idea he was gone. Which is really odd, because I always know where my masters are. Always.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not his fault. I walked through the wall.¡±


    She turned back to the young prince. ¡°You did what!¡±


    ¡°I walked through the wall. I didn¡¯t think anything of it, it was just a dream. But clearly, George wants us to do this.¡±


    ¡°Can you do it again now?¡±


    ¡°Walk through the wall? I doubt it. I don¡¯t think I have skills. I can do what I need when I need to, but I can¡¯t do it again later. When I summoned Kalutu, I didn¡¯t cast a spell. I was just walking along with Eric, and I felt like he was doing all the work and facing all the danger, and I needed to help out too. And then Kalutu appeared. Well, fell out of the sky.¡±


    ¡°No skills, but you can do what needs to be done. That sounds powerful but chancy. I have a solid set of skills I can depend on, but they¡¯re all the skills I have. That¡¯s so strange.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s cool.¡±


    ¡°That it is. So, why wake me and not Eric?¡±


    Dahr smiled. ¡°Because he¡¯s Eric. What do you think he¡¯ll do when he finds out I broke into a Temple of Sheba and stole a box of potions?¡±


    Chari nodded. ¡°That¡¯s pretty smart. So you want me to break it to him, do you?¡±


    Dahr looked hopeful. Chari sighed.


    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go wake him. But mark my words, this is going to come back to haunt us.¡±


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°We need faster training, and I don¡¯t know how long we can keep up the pace we¡¯re going. At least now we can train while we sleep.¡±


    ¡°You know it¡¯s not going to be that easy.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°Are you finding what we¡¯re doing now easy?¡±


    Chari didn¡¯t have an answer. She motioned for Dahr to follow and went to wake Eric. It was going to be a long day.


    *


    ¡°He did what!¡±


    Eric¡¯s face paled, but his jaw was set in a position of displeasure. Chari had seen that exact expression on her father¡¯s face often enough to know what was about to happen. She forestalled it with a single finger, held up in front of her.


    Eric looked like he was about to raise his voice, but he stopped and waited. Chari knew if she said the right thing now she could diffuse the situation. Normally, when dealing with her father, she didn¡¯t try, happy to allow whatever misdeeds she¡¯d been about to add to her father¡¯s continually growing cache of gray hair.  Eric, however, was a different story.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it seems. Don¡¯t you think Sheba knows what goes on in her temple? If she didn¡¯t want us to have it, we wouldn¡¯t have it.¡±


    Eric opened his mouth and closed it again. ¡°It seems like this excuse for bad behavior is coming up increasingly often. Sheba¡¯s willing something doesn¡¯t absolve us from behaving properly.¡±


    Chari smiled sweetly. ¡°So it¡¯s not important to follow Sheba¡¯s will?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that!¡±


    ¡°You implied it. Sheba wants us to have these potions or we wouldn¡¯t have them, it really is that simple. You need to learn to relax.¡±


    ¡°Dahr just broke into a temple!¡±


    ¡°I prefer to see at as Dahr was invited into a temple and given a gift to take back with him. Some would say not accepting a gift from your goddess is bad behavior, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    ¡°This is ridiculous. How can you defend him?¡±


    ¡°Because we¡¯re in danger and need to be trained. We¡¯re progressing too slowly. I haven¡¯t leveled, have you?¡±


    ¡°No. Today is the Day of the Dead, and we started training on,¡± he paused to do the math, ¡°when was it, the Day of the Lesser Gods. So, this is only the fifth day.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Normal methods of leveling aren¡¯t working out. Sheba must realize this so she¡¯s stacking the deck in our favor. Why is that a bad thing?¡±


    Eric started to reply but hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m never going to win an argument with you, am I?¡±


    Chari grinned. ¡°Of course not. You¡¯re a man.¡±


    Eric groaned but then embraced her. ¡°We¡¯ll go through our normal training today and then take the potion when we sleep. We can do it here in the anteroom. Kalutu can keep watch.¡±


    Chari nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll go tell Dahr. He¡¯ll be relieved you¡¯re not angry.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t angry.¡±


    ¡°I know. I did. Deal with it.¡±


    And she was gone. As the door closed, Prince Eric shook his head and wondered what his life would be like after they were married, when Princess Chari would no longer be on her best behavior.

 Chapter 15 - The Other Other Realm

    Eleventh of Learning 1142


    On a lone hill, overlooking a wide expanse of tall, dry grass, stood a kreve, a black canine predator looking much like a wolf but with a wider head to support a vast mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.  Her eyes burned red with what many would have called madness, but it wasn¡¯t true. They were merely red eyes. She was just an animal hunting for her next meal. She wasn¡¯t much more intelligent than a wolf. Though kreve don¡¯t usually name themselves, somehow, she thought of herself as Stalker. The others followed her because she was the smartest, the strongest, and because she kept the pack fed.


    Though it was warmer than usual for this time of year, the lack of rain during the hot summer had driven the game to other hunting grounds where water was easier to get. The pack was hungry. And so she ranged the hills, hunting. The need for food dominated everything else.


    Normally, Stalker avoided contact with humans, because the risk often outweighed the benefits, but when the pack was this hungry, rules had to change. Which is how she found herself following the scent of humans, mixed in with other scents she didn¡¯t at all recognize.  She weighed the risk against her hunger, and there was no contest. She howled to let the rest of the pack know that she had chosen a target, and sat waiting, watching. Had she been a human, perhaps she would have been praying as well, but kreves had no knowledge of the gods. They were driven by physical drives, hunger, thirst, cold, fear, and the need to keep the pack alive by whatever means necessary. Sometimes that meant taking risks.


    Below, the humans and whatever they traveled with were completely unaware of the looming danger. They moved slowly, on foot, talking amongst themselves. Stalker couldn¡¯t hear them at this distance, but she knew from their pace and their posture that they were relaxed. In some ways that itself was a warning sign. Weaker creatures held more regard for the dangers of the wilderness. The more relaxed the travelers, the more likely they were powerful enough to take care of themselves. Stalker reconsidered what she was about to do, but hunger remained her dominant motivation. She could see the pack gathering, smell them, discern them with an extra sense that linked them on a deeper level. This was her pack, her family, her clan. She was responsible for them, and they would have food, whatever the cost.


    When they had gathered, she set out, not needing to issue instructions to the others. They fanned out, following the prey, most of them already having scented their quarry. The others would pick up that scent as they drew closer.  Several of the younger ones, particularly the males, were excited. They didn¡¯t often get to hunt humans, and it was a treat for them.  Stalker didn¡¯t believe they would still be excited by the time the hunt was done. Still, they had to learn these lessons at some point.


    When they finally got close enough, Stalker was surprised to see a shadow-like being standing in front of her. She didn¡¯t smell or hear it, but she could see it. Then it spoke, and though she could hear it, she didn¡¯t understand its words.


    ¡°This is a bad idea. Your pack is large and strong, but it is no match for a team of adventurers. If you turn away now, we can spare you.¡±


    Stalker walked up to the apparition, which didn¡¯t move at all. She sniffed at it. It was as if it wasn¡¯t there. Then she batted it with a paw that passed through it. She had never seen a phase shifter before and didn¡¯t know what to make of it.


    When she came in contact with it, or when she would have had it been physically present, she felt a chill pass through her, as if she had touched something truly alien. But no harm came to her and she tried again, with much the same result. Ever-curious, she passed her paw through a third time, but this time was different. She touched something dark, something powerful. Something not only beyond her experience but completely beyond her understanding.


    She jerked back her paw and shuddered, before slinking off the way she had come. Not much scared Stalker, but nothing in her short life had prepared her for the thing she had touched. The rest of the pack, taking her lead, followed behind. They would perhaps go hungry for another night, but none of them had ever seen anything like this, and they deferred to the intelligence of their pack leader to guide them in the right direction.


    A couple of the younger males looked back over their shoulders at the receding adventurers, but then they hurried to catch up with the rest of the pack, who had started running back the way they had come.


    Dreek returned to the rest of the group.


    ¡°Well?¡± Ressssen asked.


    ¡°The Kreve will not harm us. They are returning to where they came from.¡±


    ¡°I always wanted a pet Kreve,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°I have never heard of anyone taming a kreve,¡± said Borin.


    ¡°Who said I wanted it tamed?¡±


    A few of them chuckled at that, but mostly everyone was just relieved they didn¡¯t have to kill a bunch of animals who were only trying to find their next meal.


    Later that night, when they camped, Ressssen sought out Striker.


    ¡°It has been too quiet. More than I thought possible. We must maintain vigilance. It would not due to let our guard down this close to our goal.¡±


    ¡°How much longer do you think?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get there tomorrow, and head straight for the guild. That¡¯ssss when the real work ssssstarts.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t actually have to speak like that do you?¡±


    Ressssen smiled. ¡°You are correct. I don¡¯t have to sssspeak like this. But I know it has an effect on impressionable humanssss, so I do it anyway.  Does it bother you?¡±


    Striker shook her head. ¡°It amuses me. I know a lot of guys find serpent lady accents sexy.¡±


    Ressssen scowled, or at least, that¡¯s how Striker interpreted her expression. ¡°I have little interest in humans looking for something different and dangerous.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been with a human then?¡±


    ¡°I never sssssaid that. I simply don¡¯t have an interest in forming any sort of cassssual relationship. Any conjoining that occurs will have to be with someone I respect. That could be anyone, including a human.¡±


    Striker thought Ressssen was looking at her more pointedly than usual. She was getting really good at serpent lord facial expressions and body language. ¡°You don¡¯t approve of my taste in men?¡±


    ¡°It is not for me to approve or disapprove. As the leader of your team, I only want what¡¯s best for the team, and therefore, what¡¯s best for you.¡±


    ¡°Is that your way of asking if I¡¯m okay?¡±


    ¡°Yessss.¡±


    ¡°Then, yesssss. I¡¯m okay.¡±


    Ressssen chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll make a serpent lord out of you yet.¡±


    Striker shook her head. ¡°I have enough trouble acting like a human, thanks.¡±


    *


    Kalutu kept a watchful eye on the three young royals as they went about their daily routine. They all seemed distracted, focused not on their lessons, but on what would happen that night when they entered the Other Realm. Kalutu wished he could join them, but he had to stay awake and keep watch in case something unexpected happened. Someone had to get help if something went wrong, and all three of them needed to level up if they could. Kalutu, being a familiar, couldn¡¯t level, so he would be the one to stay behind.


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    Each of the teachers reacted differently to their student¡¯s lack of concentration. Leata, to Kalutu¡¯s surprise, seemed the most put out, banging the table each time one of them drifted off into reverie. She scolded them, cajoled them, tried to trick them with difficult questions. Even Kalutu was distracted, worried as he was about his charges.


    Lord Ormund, by contrast, seemed pleased that he could talk at length without interruption. He seemed surprised and happy that the usual degree of sarcasm was absent.


    Maynor, much to Kalutu¡¯s surprise, was the most sympathetic of their teachers, but he still drove them hard, apologetic though he was. He told them more than once that enemies would attack whether they were distracted or not, and put them through their paces, making sure to punish them with pain should they fail to block a shot. Not too much pain, obviously, but enough to make Kalutu wince. If he didn¡¯t know that Maynor cared about his students, he would have had to step in, at which point, Maynor would have beat him bloody, he had no doubt about that.


    Of all the classes, combat was the one that Kalutu excelled in the most, because protecting his charges had become his driving force. He worked as hard as he could every day, and could both see and feel the progress. Tonight, when they were in the Other Realm without him, he would be able to do nothing but watch. All this training, and he¡¯d still be helpless. But that only made him practice harder. There would come a day when they needed him, and Kalutu had to be ready.


    Finally, after what seemed like the longest day of his life, they sat down to dinner, which Eric requested in one of the small private rooms, so they could talk. In spite of that, very little was actually said.


    Eric¡¯s eyes were feverish, as he wolfed down his dinner without tasting it, or so it seemed to Kalutu. Thick pieces of braised beef, potatoes and a mixture of saut¨¦ed vegetables were shoveled in thoughtlessly at a pace that would have insulted the cook had she been here to see it. Dahr ate mechanically, mind elsewhere.  And Chari, slightly less affected than the two young men, for whatever reason, still looked thoughtful and seemed loathe to interrupt the silence with her own comments. This seemed out of character for her, Kalutu noted, but it also indicated that even she was under pressure.


    When they had finished, all four headed back toward the princes¡¯ quarters. They looked around to make sure no one was watching before Chari ducked inside. In no time at all, the three sat on the stone floor. Well, the princes sat on the floor, allowing Chari to take the rug in the middle of the room. Kalutu remained standing. He wouldn¡¯t be able to relax until all three were back safely in the waking world.


    Dahr produced three vials and passed two of them to Kalutu, who finished distributing them. Dahr was the only one of the three who had never taken the potion before, but he didn¡¯t look nervous to the were-owl. The three looked each other over and, as if by silent agreement, downed the potion without speaking, Dahr more tentatively than the others.


    Then they lay back on the floor. In almost no time at all, they were sleeping, leaving a nervous familiar to watch over them and wonder if what they were doing was safe. He also wondered several other things now that he was alone, like how long he should leave them before trying to wake them. If he couldn¡¯t wake them, how long should he wait before he sought help?  It was a question he realized he should have asked before they¡¯d slept.


    He looked longingly at the desk and the sheaf of papers on it. He wanted nothing more than to sit down and write, as he did most nights while they were sleeping. It helped him organize his thoughts. Come to terms with this new existence that had been thrust upon him. But tonight he couldn¡¯t let himself get distracted, so he turned resolutely away from the desk and put it out of his mind. Tomorrow, there would be time to indulge himself. Tonight, he had a job to do.


    He paced the floor, constantly checking to make sure he could see them breathing, determined not even to sit until they were all awake. He tried to review everything he¡¯d learned during the day, but it was all a jumble. He would be on edge until his masters and Mistress Chari were back in the real world. He wondered what they might encounter this night in the Other Realm, and how it might differ from their first experience.


    *


    Ressssen was sitting by the fire, lost in thought, when Merck Vanderoth approached. She turned to face him but said nothing. Instead she studied his face. She had once regarded him as ordinary, but that wasn¡¯t what she saw now. He no longer looked like a man trying to avoid being seen. She could almost sense the destiny surrounding him. Merck seemed hesitant but also determined.


    ¡°Yesssss?¡±, she said when she realized he wouldn¡¯t talk without invitation.


    ¡°We need to spend the day here tomorrow. It¡¯s not time yet to move on.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how I know, I just do. We need to wait here and not get closer to the city for at least another day.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t know why.¡±


    ¡°I do not. As I¡¯ve said, my god isn¡¯t very good at sharing information.¡±


    ¡°You need to find a better god. My god talks to me all the time.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°No. But then, I¡¯m not a priest.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a mage. You worship Iorana then?¡±


    Ressssen shook her head. ¡°The being you call Iorana is mostly a god of the humans. Serpent lords have our own gods, different from yours.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you from Karmenon?¡±


    ¡°No. None of us are.¡±


    ¡°Me either. I was born in Final Hope.¡±


    ¡°You are a long way from home, Merck.¡±


    ¡°That I am. And in truth, I¡¯m a long way from my comfort zone as well. I don¡¯t know anything about being a priest. I don¡¯t know what my god expects of me. I don¡¯t know anything except that I have to find a boy. And yet I feel compelled to do so.¡±


    ¡°The gods are strong. If they want something done, they have ways of letting you know.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel that with my old god. Tharin, god of thieves.¡±


    Ressssen looked at him, disapproval clear in her reptilian eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that.  I grew up on the street. I stole to survive. I fled an abusive household with very few options.¡±


    ¡°There are always options.¡±


    ¡°Not for everyone. If you¡¯re born with money, the world treats you differently, at least among humans. I don¡¯t know how it is with serpent lords.¡±


    ¡°We like money, but we don¡¯t worship it. It isn¡¯t money that decides where people stand in our society. It¡¯s all about power. Magic power. Martial power. Political power. Those that are most powerful lead our society. Our queen is the most powerful serpent lord mage in the world.¡±


    ¡°A queen? Not a king?¡±


    Ressssen chuckled. ¡°Only a human would be surprised by that. Very well. We will wait here for a day and see what it brings. I¡¯ll tell the others.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Ressssen. I and my god appreciate it. Well, I appreciate it. I believe my god just assumes it¡¯ll get done, to be honest.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that is the way with gods.¡±


    Merck bowed and walked back to the patch of ground he¡¯d claimed as his own when they¡¯d set up camp. He never sat near the others and none of the others ever tried to engage with him. It was understandable considering how they met, but it wasn¡¯t acceptable.  Ressssen stood and found Garne.


    When he saw her approaching, he smiled. ¡°Something I can do for you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You can talk to Merck.¡±


    ¡°Talk?¡±


    ¡°Yes, talk. Don¡¯t treat him like an outsider.¡±


    Garne looked confused. ¡°Isn¡¯t he though?¡±


    ¡°Yes, because no one talks to him.  We¡¯re going to try to convince the Adventurer''s Guild to let us travel with him, not because the pay will be good, but because the payoff down the road will be beyond anything we could accomplish otherwise should this pan out. It is a plan with little downside.¡±


    ¡°Except that if he¡¯s an outsider, he¡¯d have no reason to ask for us instead of requesting a more well-known team.¡±


    ¡°Yessss. That is my worry. I¡¯ll talk to the others, but we need to start making Merck feel like he¡¯s part of the team. I might even register him as one of us.¡±


    ¡°A Level 1 Priest? A priest of an unknown god? That might be premature.¡±


    ¡°You might be right. But I feel that there is little more important than us getting the contract to stay on with the priest. Don¡¯t you feel it? The world is moving. I would like to be there when it stops. I want to see where history takes us first claw.¡±


    Garne nodded. ¡°Yeah, it will make a nice change from fighting monsters.¡±


    Ressssen chuckled. ¡°If you think dealing with royalty is much different, you¡¯d be wrong.¡±


    Garne looked thoughtful and nodded. ¡°Yeah, you might be right at that.


    *


    Eric opened his eyes and looked around. He had expected to be in some variation of a natural setting that was more or less familiar, based on his experiences with both his own transition and Chari¡¯s.  Where he landed this time was someplace else entirely.


    There were no trees, no grass, no rocks. He stood on what looked like a sheet of gray, warped glass that writhed as if it were alive. The sky was half checkered and half striped in shades of gray as well. There was no color to be seen. Even when he looked down at his hand, it was pale and colorless as if it had been drained of blood.


    There was a throbbing, pulsing noise in the air, like a heart beating, and there was a loud sigh as if a giant with a wheeze was breathing beside him. He could smell random scents, some of which he recognized and some of which were completely alien, some of which were pleasant and some which made him want to gag. None of them existed for long though, as if the universe were trying out different scents to decide which to settle on.


    The combination of sights, sounds and scents made it hard for him to take it all in. It was a sensory assault like he had never before experienced.


    A sensory assault that initially prevented him from noticing that he was alone. When he did notice, he spun, trying to look past the distractions. He tried calling out above the myriad noises. He even tried moving quickly first one way, then another, and as the minutes passed, he felt fear¡ªnot for himself. He wasn¡¯t even that worried about Chari, who he¡¯d seen fight. He knew she could take care of herself. But Dahr had only been training for days and had no actual combat experience at all.


    Sheba had told him that as a tank he would fight to protect those he loved more than any other class. What she hadn¡¯t mentioned was the fear he would be forced to endure when he wasn¡¯t in a position to do so.

 Chapter 16 - Power Leveling

    Eleventh of Learning 1142


    Stalker made her way back toward her lair, mind ablaze with what she had felt. What she had learned. Ideas that had never occurred to her before crowded her mind. If she had been human, she¡¯d have gone insane, but she wasn¡¯t¨Cshe was just a kreve. She didn¡¯t know that having so many new thoughts at once wasn¡¯t normal...which didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t find it overwhelming.


    She moved on instinct, not paying attention to the path she traveled. She had changed. Something about touching the shadow had altered her on a basic level. She was both kreve and not kreve at the same time. She was something else. Something had placed its mark upon her when she touched the darkness, and now she was changing. She was more than a kreve now.  Much more. She thought about her pack with a pang and realized she was no longer one of them. That stung. She was changing¡ªwould continue to change. But for tonight at least, she was still Stalker. Still herself. And tonight, she could mourn the loss of her pack, for she knew with absolute certainty she would have to leave it.


    She couldn¡¯t parse all the changes, the ideas, the chaos in her mind and didn¡¯t try. She simply watched, the way you¡¯d watch a pack of animals before a hunt. She didn¡¯t try to possess any cache of knowledge. She saw it swirl in her mind, taking note of various things that made no sense, not requiring them to make sense. In time, they would...or they would not.


    It was a kind of trance she had never experienced and when she again had time to look around, she realized that she was very close to her lair. She had traveled long into the night, and in a short time would be home. Home. It was the wrong word she knew. It was where she had stayed, but it wasn¡¯t safe. Nowhere was ever really safe. It was a place to sleep. And now, she would be leaving behind even that bit of safety to follow¡­ follow¡­ she didn¡¯t know. But she somehow knew that hunger was no longer her most pressing concern.


    She reached the cave in which she laired but didn¡¯t enter. Instead she sat, threw back her head and howled. Unlike her normal summoning, this was somehow different. Mournful. Desperate. And the pack heeded her call. They came.


    Not all at once. They came in twos and threes, tentatively, cautiously. They gathered in a group unable to explain the tension that had gripped even the least intuitive of them. In the end, even the young males that lived on the periphery of the pack showed up, pacing around the outside of the gathering, neither accepted by the others nor driven away. Their focus was on Stalker, who continued to howl, seemingly oblivious to their presence.


    They crowded around, watching her uncertainly. When she finally stopped howling, she looked at each one of them. None moved. And she knew that they too could sense that she had changed. That she was no longer part of the pack. For a very long time, they remained unmoving, unblinking. There was no longer tension, just an unbearable sadness laced with an unconscious understanding that things were about to change.


    A young female finally broke the stillness. She approached Stalker and lay down, rolling onto her back, showing her submission. Stalker dipped her head, and licked the female. Eyes half closed, she ran her tongue repeatedly over the female¡¯s fur. She didn¡¯t understand what she was doing, wouldn¡¯t have been able to name it, but anyone with second sight would have seen it immediately. She was casting a spell. A nameless spell. A spell never cast before.


    The female was only the first. The others followed. One by one they knelt before her as if they were her subjects, and one by one she cleansed them. Enchanted them. And when it was done, hunger was no longer an issue. She looked at them one final time, bowed her head, then turned and ran off into the night. The others did not follow. They remained behind, watching her go, each thinking their own kreve thoughts, but all of those thoughts were tinged with sadness and loss. Stalker sensed it, then closed her mind to it and ran as she had never run before. Free of the pack, free of her hunger, she ran with a singular purpose. She ran as if the world depended on it. She ran into the night, and other creatures sensed her and moved away, for they had never sensed anything quite like the creature Stalker had become.


    *


    Dreek sensed the creature while it was still far away. It had touched him on some deeper level, though he didn¡¯t know how he knew that. This event was beyond his understanding. The only thing he knew for certain is that whatever it was, it was no longer completely kreve. It was something else.


    As it approached, he thought about waking the others. He didn¡¯t move however. There was time, and he needed to consider the ramifications of what he felt.


    He was so lost in thought, he didn¡¯t realize that Merck had joined him. Was standing beside him. This startled Dreek, because nothing could sneak up on him. Nothing without using some sort of skill. Did he maintain his thief¡¯s skills after all? No, that wasn¡¯t it.


    Ressssen had told them all to talk more with Merck, to include him, so against his better judgement, Dreek nodded to him.  ¡°You sense it too.¡±


    ¡°I do. It¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°What do you believe it portends?¡±


    ¡°I do not know, but it is important.¡±


    They remained silent for a long time, both following the creature¡¯s progress toward them. Finally, Merck spoke.


    ¡°It will not hurt us.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    There was nothing else to say. Striker was the next to join them, suddenly awake, sensing the creature approaching, not understanding why or how.  Ressssen and Borin followed together and finally Garne. The Misfits of Karmenon stood watching the night. Dawn was not far off, but none of them felt tired. There was a tingle in the air. The electricity before a storm. This was an event of some moment, and they all knew it. They felt it in the very core of their beings.


    When it appeared, running as no Kreve had ever run, they watched it. And when it reached them, they welcomed it into their midst without a morsel of fear. But it was Striker who the kreve that was not a kreve approached. The creature crept to her, sat on its haunches and rolled over on its back to show its submission. Striker, as if in a trance, reached out to touch it. And when she did, the spell was broken. Complacency gave way to confusion.


    ¡°What in the name of all the gods was that?¡± growled Garne.


    But Striker didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t listen. She wasn¡¯t really there. Entombed in the darkest recesses of her mind she heard a voice. A deep, melodic voice unlike any she had ever heard. And what it said was impossible. They were words she knew she would never hear, but she heard them now regardless.


    You have reached Hunter Level 5. You have reached Hunter Level 6. You have reached Hunter Level 7. You have reached Hunter Level 8. You have reached Hunter Level 9. You have reached Hunter Level 10. You have reached Tier 2. Hunter class has transitioned into Beast Master class. You have reached Beast Master Level 1. New skill unlocked ¨C Beast Friend. Strength, dexterity, constitution, mental strength, mind power, sight, hearing, sense of smell, sense of taste, tactile sense and natural armor have all increased. A change this drastic to your body is bound to have considerable affects on your ability to function. Suggestion, this might be a good time for a nap.


    The confusion around her gave way to concern when Striker crumpled to the floor, unconscious.


    *


    The assault began as soon as Chari opened her eyes¨C an assault sensory in nature rather than physical.  Everything around her was off kilter, bordering on the bizarre. The colors, or in some cases lack of color, the way everything around her seemed to change, but never while she was watching, the way objects that were supposed to be solid seemed to ebb and flow as if they were floating on unseen currents. It was as if the rules that governed reality had decided to take a holiday, and what she was left with was pure, unadulterated chaos.


    Like the landscape, the sounds around her seemed unrelated to anything going on. Whispers on the wind, moans, creaks, the roar of a predator, tapping, bird call, a thousand sounds competing with each other for which was the most out of place.


    Dahr touched her arm to get her attention, and she tensed, half expecting an attack, though she realized it was him before she reached for her sword.


    ¡°This place is different from where I was last time,¡± she said.


    ¡°We¡¯re missing Eric.¡±


    ¡°What!¡±


    She looked around in every direction, but there was no sign of him, and nowhere he could be hiding as the ground, for all its writhing, was relatively flat.


    ¡°Eric! Eric!¡±


    She started calling out as loudly as she could, trying to ignore the numerous distractions. There was a lot of sound to compete with however, and she felt that even if he were fairly nearby he might not hear her.


    ¡°We have to search for him!¡±


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s not here, I think. He¡¯s...elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that?¡±


    ¡°I just do.¡±


    Chari felt frustrated but nodded. She had trouble finding her footing in this place, both literally and figuratively, so Dahr took the lead, something she hadn¡¯t expected.


    ¡°This way,¡± he said, as he started walking over the undulating ground. After a moment of hesitation, Chari followed. Only then did she realize she was clad in leather armor that covered much of her body. It fit so perfectly she hadn¡¯t even realized that it had replaced her outfit until now. She noticed also that Dahr had been given no gear at all. He was wearing the same outfit he¡¯d worn beforehand; a light-colored tunic, leather breeches and boots, yet he seemed completely at ease.


    ¡°You seem to be more comfortable here than I am.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been here before.¡±


    ¡°When?¡± asked Chari, confused.


    ¡°I¡¯ve dreamt of this place. I¡¯ve talked to my god here.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    She really didn¡¯t see, but now wasn¡¯t the time to discuss it. She had to remain alert, and the constant turmoil around her made it difficult.


    Nothing seemed stable here. Nothing stayed in place. Vibrant colors crept into some features of the landscape at the same time fading from others, leaving behind only shades of gray.  A few solitary trees protruded from the ground, thin, barren and mismatched, no two looking the same. Everything seemed to pulse, or expand and contract as if alive. Chari drew her sword, though she didn¡¯t know why. Something had set her on edge, but she couldn¡¯t tell what it was, as if she¡¯d seen something out of the corner of her eye that shouldn¡¯t have been there.


    And suddenly there were undead everywhere. Living corpses, some looking half decayed and others  more like people who¡¯d only recently died. She hacked into the closest, energized by fear. The creature had once been a woman, but Chari could no longer name her so. She realized that for the first time in her life, she was looking at a zombie. Outrage fueled her ferocity. This woman should have been allowed to rest in peace. That she wasn¡¯t was a crime worse than murder. A murder ended when you died but this...it was like being killed every moment of every day, over and over again, until someone set it right. This poor soul was a prisoner of circumstance, until Chari could free her. Her blade was a whirlwind as she struck out in fury again and again. When the creature crumpled to the ground, almost completely dismembered, Chari risked a glance at Dahr, who had a sword in his hand, though he hadn¡¯t had one with him when she¡¯d looked at him earlier.


    ¡°Where did you get the blade?¡± she called out, already moving to engage more zombies.


    ¡°I needed it, so I have it. I told you this. It¡¯s just how it works for me.¡±


    ¡°Handy.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have time to say anything else.


    The one she had attacked was the only one within striking distance. She hadn¡¯t seen it form, almost as if it had been there all along, and she¡¯d only just noticed. The sensation made her head spin.


    Chari didn¡¯t wait for the rest of them to approach. She didn¡¯t even think any of the others had noticed her. She charged at a small group that was closer than the others. She used Puncture, stabbing the closest zombie through the midsection. It didn¡¯t do anything. She dodged a flailing arm and drew her sword back out, swiping hard as soon as it was free. Her sword bit deeply into the side of the creature, but stopped just short of halfway through. She used Amazing Strength and powered the sword through its spine and out the other side. The head and torso dropped right in front of her, while the legs took a step backwards before collapsing.


    She took a cut at her next opponent, when she felt something grab her right ankle. She looked down. Though she had cleaved the zombie in two, it had continued to fight. She stamped down hard on its wrist with her left foot. Half of the zombie¡¯s forearm shattered into bone dust, but the hand remained attached and started to squeeze. It was strong. Damnably strong. Chari growled, partly in frustration and partly in pain.


    Finally she swiped at the ground, severing the zombie¡¯s head. At once the hand released her and fell to the ground.


    ¡°Cut off their heads!¡± she shouted.


    ¡°Or you can burn them,¡± Dahr shouted back.


    He saluted Chari with his sword, and it burst into flames. There were three of them in front of him, and Chari took a step in his direction to help, but he didn¡¯t need it. His flaming sword passed through all three, and they started burning. She started to say something, realized two more had reached her and honestly, what could you possibly say to a first leveler who could do that? She had seen evidence of Dahr¡¯s unusual abilities before, but that was ridiculous. It was a good thing he was on her side.


    She glanced at him one more time as he summoned a gale to push three of them back. Then she turned her attention to the two in front of her. Having already learned her lesson, she fought a defensive battle, only striking when she thought she could decapitate one, saving Amazing Strength for just that moment.


    After the first went down, she tried Puncture again, but this time aimed for her target¡¯s head. The force of her thrust caved in the area around the eye socket and didn¡¯t stop until most of the blade was sticking out from the back of the zombie¡¯s skull.  She could barely stop her hand before it made contact with its brain. She pulled back quickly, making it look as if she had used Puncture in reverse. The zombie collapsed in front of her, sending up a small cloud of dust into the air that reached her knees as the magic keeping the bones together deserted it.


    The undead were myriad and ferocious but they attacked with no strategy. No thought process. Zombies were just angry corpses. They were the weakest form of undead, which was good, because, gods, there were so many.


    The battle raged on for what seemed like days, but it was at least hours. Somehow, Chari and Dahr kept the pace up. In the real world, of course, they¡¯d have suffered fatigue, but that didn¡¯t seem to be a problem in this place.  Nor was hunger or thirst apparently.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    As Chari¡¯s concentration began to flag, she heard Sheba¡¯s voice from every direction.


    ¡°You have reached Warrior Level 2. New skill unlocked. Frenzy. Changes to your body are required for you to use this skill safely. Your strength and dexterity have increased. Puncture and Amazing Strength are now 5% more effective, and Puncture has the ability to pierce higher quality armor. Frenetic Defense is 3% more effective and now offers a small chance to block an incoming projectile.¡±


    ¡°Way to go!¡± yelled Dahr, and she realized he had heard the message as well.


    Almost immediately, her concentration and energy redoubled. A level! She¡¯d gained a level! In just a couple of hours. A small group of zombies approached, and she leapt toward them and attacked using her newest skill. Her sword danced among them as if it had a mind of its own. One swing became five. The speed of her attacks for the brief time they lasted insured maximum damage, and would definitely make it harder to block her. She didn¡¯t seem to have a huge amount of control over it, yet anyway, and it didn¡¯t last long, but it was a tool in her arsenal that would help, particularly in situations like this when she was outnumbered so heavily.


    A moment later, a voice like thunder announced, ¡°You have reached Nexus Level 2.¡±


    She had never heard the voice before, but she assumed it belonged to George. She waited for the announcement of a new skill before realizing there probably wouldn¡¯t be one. Dahr didn¡¯t get specific skills. She had already seen him do things no other class could have possibly done at that level. He seemed like he was as at home with weapons as he was with magic, moving seamlessly between melee combat, fire magic, wind magic¡­it was crazy. Perhaps his god was stronger here and it wouldn¡¯t work like this in the real world. Yet she¡¯d seem him do crazy things there as well. How much more powerful could he possibly get as he leveled?


    She was saved from further speculation by a clubbing blow that knocked her several feet back. She needed to pay more attention.


    They came from every direction, and she put them down, usually by decapitation, but occasionally by a well aimed thrust through the brain. She glanced at Dahr, who was using fire magic again to burn them. She¡¯d been worried she¡¯d have to protect him, but in reality, it was more likely she would need his help than the other way around. That bothered her, considering that he was two years younger and lacked her training. She wondered then about the nature of his god, and why Dahr, of all people, had been chosen.


    At least she¡¯d gained a level. It drove her to fight harder, to use her skills and training to their fullest.


    For a long time there was nothing but endless fighting. She took her share of hits, but nothing she couldn¡¯t handle, and the armor managed to minimize at least some of the damage. Still, she was unprotected around her joints, the armor ending above her knee and the boots going halfway up her calves left a gap where she could take damage. Similarly, the bracers on her forearms didn¡¯t protect her elbows. Even her throat was exposed, and she had no helmet, which meant some of those hits hurt, particularly the head shots. She received her share of scratches and bruises, though she managed to avoid getting bitten. She knew they weren¡¯t like some undead. They couldn¡¯t turn her into a zombie, but all the same, any zombie that got close enough to bite her was going down if she had any say in the matter, which apparently she did.


    She pushed herself to the limits of her abilities and even beyond, ignoring the pain from the hits that didn¡¯t come often but were starting to have some effect on her agility. She started fighting more defensively again, if nothing else, just to clear her head and get a better look at her surroundings. For all the undead she had put down, and she¡¯d lost count at this point, there didn¡¯t seem to be fewer of them.


    ¡°You have reached Warrior, Level 3. New skill unlocked, Shred. Your dexterity has increased. Frenetic Defense is 2% more effective and your chance to block incoming projectiles has increased.¡±


    The fact that Sheba''s voice was becoming familiar to her didn''t escape Chari''s notice.


    The new skill was every bit as visceral as the name suggested it would be. Even as she tried it for the first time, Dahr became a Level 3 Nexus, but the undead assault seemed like it would never end.


    Shred superimposed a ghostly, barbed three-prong blade over the top of her existing sword, transforming it into a weapon that could literally shred an opponent. Adding Frenzy and Amazing Strength into the mix would make it even more effective. As it turned out it wasn¡¯t particularly useful against zombies, but against an enemy that could actually bleed? It would be devastating.


    Another hour. Two? Four? She didn¡¯t know. She was fighting now. She was motion. She was death, or in the case of the undead, redeath.  They appeared, and she put them down against a backdrop of undulating ever-changing reality, though she had finally gotten used to that.


    A zombie attacked her from behind, and she felt its hand rake the back of her neck. She faced it, and, just as she was about to strike, realized it was the same woman she¡¯d already put to rest at least once, the very first zombie she had faced.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come back,¡± she said gently, and she put her down for a second time.


    Her heart hurt. She had at least thought she was sending these poor people to their final rest, but she wasn¡¯t. That¡¯s how it had been in the Undead War as well. Nothing stayed dead. She wasn¡¯t helping at all. All the energy drained out of her. What was the point? How could she keep going knowing the creatures she was attacking were already victims? Where was the honor in that? She let her guard down only briefly, but was forced to resume her attacks, because the zombies weren¡¯t going to stop.


    Another year passed, or at least it felt like it. Her heart was no longer in it. She just wanted it to end. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see Eric again. She hoped with all her heart that his experience was better than hers. She was fighting on instinct now, barely paying attention to what she was doing. And then, Sheba¡¯s voice pulled her out of her despair.


    ¡°You have reached Warrior Level 4. New skill unlocked, Tremendous Leap. Your dexterity has increased. Musculature and flexibility increased to allow for safer landings. Frenetic defense will now block all slow moving projectiles and has an increased chance to block faster projectiles, but remember, no block is guaranteed. There are skills that make certain shots unblockable. There is no such thing as a perfect defense.¡±


    She had leveled again. She didn¡¯t think she would. Of course, that¡¯s why she was here. To grow stronger to deal with whatever was coming. And the skills she was getting were amazing.


    She tried the newest. She leapt into the air and cleared the entire group of undead in front of her. As she did, she heard a loud voice informing her that Dahr was still keeping pace. Both of them Level 4. Amazing. The futility she had felt only a short time ago vanished as suddenly as it had come on. But the rage that had sustained her this far was gone, and she felt tired. Not physically, but mentally.


    It was what overcame her in the end. No matter how much she wanted another level, she was mentally exhausted and found it harder and harder to focus. She took more hits in the next hour than she had the entire time she was there. And still the undead came. Was there no end to them? Battered, bruised, bleeding, she fought on, but eventually she had to fail.


    The armor she wore protected most of her body, but the few exposed areas bled from multiple wounds. She dared not split her attention to look at Dahr, but she guessed that he was in much the same condition. And then, as suddenly as it had started, the undead were gone.


    She immediately looked for Dahr and found him laying on the ground, bleeding from many wounds, some of which looked serious. There was no healing potion. No one to call for help. It was just her, and Dahr. Helplessly she looked around for something to bind his wounds. It wasn¡¯t like she could tear her armor.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she called out. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t bring us all this way only to have Dahr die here, but I have no way to help him.¡±


    She didn¡¯t expect a reply, and she didn¡¯t get one from George, but while she was looking up to the sky, Dahr¡¯s voice reached her.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I have a healing potion.¡±


    ¡°Where did you get that?¡±


    ¡°No idea. That¡¯s how it works. It might have been dropped by one of the undead.¡±


    ¡°Your class is insane, you know that right?¡±


    He made a face as he downed the bright green potion. ¡°Oh that¡¯s nasty. Yeah, it¡¯s a very strange class. I¡¯m still getting used to it. The thing is, it doesn¡¯t work if I just want something. I not only have to need it, but I think my god must need me to have it as well. He wanted me to level faster, so my skills helped me steal the potion. If George didn¡¯t want me to have it, I¡¯d never get that skill.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just so strange. I¡¯ve never heard of any other class like it.¡±


    ¡°And you won¡¯t. My god assured me that I was the first.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you know this or not, but you and your brother, you¡¯re both weird.¡±


    Dahr chuckled, and climbed to his feet. ¡°And proud of it.¡±


    Then the world started fading, and they were back in the anteroom.


    *


    Prince Eric had fled the place he arrived, searching for Chari and Dahr, but eventually became convinced they had appeared elsewhere. He prayed fervently that they had ended up together. And he prayed for their safety. There was nothing else he could do for them.


    And in truth, he had his own problems. He was alone in this place without any knowledge of what dangers he might face. Wait, was that a figure on the ground in the distance? It could be someone propped up against something that resembled a rotted tree stump, but he couldn¡¯t be sure without getting closer.


    With nothing else to orient him, Eric moved toward the figure, and as he approached, details penetrated the visual cacophony that seemed determined to distract him.  He tried to focus as best he could and eventually saw that the figure was a woman propped against the jagged stump of a broken pillar. She wore a pale blue gown, torn in places and stained by the elements.  As he drew yet closer, he saw there was dirt on her face as well, and then he was close enough to recognize her.


    ¡°Mom?¡±


    ¡°Eric? I¡¯m hurt. Help me...please.¡±


    Eric forwent what little caution he had used in his approach. He ran to his mother and knelt beside her, eyes filling with tears. ¡°Are you all right? What happened? How did you get here?¡±


    ¡°Be careful. We¡¯re not alone. There are undead everywhere. They¡¯ve moved off for now, but they¡¯ll be back. Please, don¡¯t let them kill me.¡±


    That was the moment Eric knew that this wasn¡¯t his mother. A devotee of Sheba would have fought with her dying breath rather than begged for another to protect her. But she was too real. The illusion too perfect for him to completely ignore. The set of her jaw when she was stressed. The way her lips trembled as if she might give in to tears, the love in her eyes that threatened to engulf him. And she was injured. What he had first took to be merely grime was mixed in with dried blood, though it was harder to see amid the various shades of gray.  She couldn¡¯t stand. Couldn¡¯t defend herself. Who would do something like this? Create an image of his mother and make her so defenseless? Was it to hurt him?  This couldn¡¯t be Sheba¡¯s doing. Who then? George?


    He took a few moments to try and comfort her, even though he knew she wasn¡¯t real. If it was a test of some kind, he needed to act how he would act if she was there. He had to believe in it. He had to...to protect her.


    As soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt rather than heard something approach. He whirled, calling his shield and pulling his blade from it in one swift motion. He¡¯d been practicing that, and he was pleased with how smoothly he could do it. It didn¡¯t hurt that it looked amazing.


    The thing that approached him was alone and quite small. It was also undead. It wasn¡¯t a zombie. He¡¯d seen pictures of those. This looked more like a ghoul, which he realized made his situation more difficult. Ghouls paralyzed you when they touched you. Some of the more powerful ghouls could even drain your life force. He not only had to defend himself, he had to defend his mother as well. And the nature of this test became clear to him.


    He used Shield Bash to knock it away from his mother, then moved out to meet it, shouting to keep its focus on him.


    ¡°Hey, you! What the hell are you, even? Did you look this bad when you were alive?¡±


    The taunt seemed to enrage the creature, and it charged him furiously. This surprised Eric who thought that it wasn¡¯t a particularly good insult, and he could do better.  As it approached he got his best look at it yet. It looked almost like a child who had been taken before its time. Probably size had something to do with that. Its skin was a sickly green, its eyes blazed red. Its mouth was full of sharp teeth, and its hair was brown and patchy as if parts of it had fallen out.  It wore some sort of rags that might have once been clothes, but that was all he noticed before it closed the distance.


    He had heard that ghouls were hard to kill, partly because of their paralyzing touch, but also because of their speed. They were very fast. A single touch would give it enough time to kill most people, so you had to avoid that. But ghouls weren¡¯t like zombies or skeletons. They weren¡¯t mindless undead. They weren¡¯t just fast. They feinted. They changed direction quickly. They distracted. They also died like any other undead when you cut their head off, which didn¡¯t take Eric as long as he thought it would.  While it had been trying to find a way through his defenses, he was waiting for an opportunity to decapitate it. Undead 0, good guys 1.  So were his thoughts, when he heard the scream. His mother!


    Eric started to run back to where his mother lay, but there were already two zombies on her. He screamed at them. ¡°Get away from her you cowards.¡±


    Admittedly not his most creative line, but he was panicked. And to his surprise, the undead turned their attention from her and moved to meet him. He tried to see if she was alive, but it was impossible before he was forced to defend himself. He was still too far to protect her, so he fought a defensive battle, moving the zombies closer to her. He struck, blocked and dodged. They weren¡¯t hard to fight, not even two of them at once. What was hard was keeping an eye on them and everything else at the same time. But they weren¡¯t like the ghoul. There was no guile or deception in the way zombies fought. Just a hatred for the living. Maynor had once told him they were jealous of those alive because they could no longer get drunk, but Eric thought he had probably made that up.


    The defensive battle made the fight take longer, but he eventually dispatched them, and nothing else had appeared. He ran back to his mother and saw she had new injuries. She could barely sit up now. What he wouldn¡¯t give for a healing potion.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Eric,¡± she whispered. ¡°It¡¯s so cold.¡±


    Even knowing she wasn¡¯t his mother, Eric shivered. He had trouble focusing. If this was meant to be training, it was effective. He heard them coming this time and turned. There were five of them. Five zombies.


    ¡°You will not have her,¡± he said in a normal speaking voice. ¡°You can not stand against me.¡±


    When the zombies all went for him, he thought about his skill. Is this what Taunt did? Draw creatures to him? Did it make them more sensitive? What a weird skill. Then they were on him, and he moved to defend himself.


    It took him longer to dispatch the five than the first two, but not significantly longer. He thought he was more efficient this time. He made effective use of Shield Bash and Taunt too apparently but his other skill, The Bigger They Are, didn¡¯t help him in this fight. At least he thought that was the case.


    While he fought, more and more undead came, and he taunted and blocked and dodged and struck with his sword, taking several blows but always recovering his balance. He should have been exhausted but he wasn¡¯t. First they arrived in groups of five or six. Then groups of about ten. He fought them off with barely time to check on his mother in between. And then a new group spawned nearby with a dozen undead, but one of them was a ghoul. This fight was more tricky than the others had been.


    Understanding Taunt better, he saved himself trouble by shouting, ¡°What an ugly bastard!¡±  Of course, it worked and everything attacked him. He wondered if it worked this way in the real world as well.


    He fought a defensive battle, never tiring, without a single misstep, until he saw the ghoul dart around him and go for his mother.


    ¡°Noooooo!¡±


    He turned to get it, ignoring the zombies who weren¡¯t fast enough to stop him from bashing the ghoul away from her before turning to face them again...but he was too late. The ghoul had touched his mother.


    ¡°Bastards!¡±


    Rage consumed Eric. He attacked furiously, his sword and shield moving so fast, it was hard to follow or would have been had anyone actually been there to try to follow it. The zombies fell so fast that by the time the ghoul had made its way back, they were mostly dead.


    Eric didn¡¯t waste more time on the zombies. He went straight after the ghoul and ran it through, but it didn¡¯t stop it from attacking. His thrust didn¡¯t even slow the creature. It swiped at him and he ducked back, then had to dodge a clubbing blow from a zombie.


    He growled and swung his sword hard. He didn¡¯t quite cut off the ghouls head, but he cut through the neck so that it¡¯s head flopped to the side and it collapsed to the ground. And then he heard a voice from all around him. Sheba¡¯s voice.


    ¡°You have reached Tank Level 2. New skill unlocked...Vengeful Attack. Strength and dexterity increased. Shield Bash now does 5% more damage to enemies and 10% more damage to rigid objects. Your desire to protect those in your care defines you. On those occasions it doesn¡¯t work out, you have a new, deadly way to express your frustration.¡±


    Eric finished off the zombies quickly and ran to his mother, but it was too late. She was motionless and her lifeless open eyes stared back at him reprovingly. And though he knew it was some dream creature or an illusion, it didn¡¯t take the pain away from how he¡¯d failed her. He was supposed to protect her. He threw back his head and screamed, not elated at gaining a level, but infuriated by his own failure.


    He held the blade he hadn¡¯t even bothered sheathing and cried out.


    ¡°Come then. I¡¯m here. I¡¯m right here. Throw yourselves at me, and I will end you, one at a time or all at once it makes no difference. Come to me, for I...am¡­.vengeance.¡±


    And the undead obeyed. Not a dozen, but a score, ghouls and zombies together, but Eric didn¡¯t care. He  charged into them as if he were a man possessed which wasn¡¯t far from the truth. He didn¡¯t think about the danger. He had no fear of failure. The undead had to pay for what they had done, and pay they would. And pay they did, one after another, or sometimes several at once. Eric was a hurricane of fury and he beat them back and though they fought hard, they broke themselves on him. Nothing that approached him survived.


    For how long this went on, he had no idea, but at some point during the fight, he heard Sheba¡¯s voice again.


    ¡°You have reached Tank, Level 3. New skill unlocked, Endurance. Your constitution has increased. You now have a small chance to resist weak poison, mind control magic and highly contagious diseases.¡±


    Had he been able to think about it, he¡¯d have realized that that skill wasn¡¯t much use here, where he didn¡¯t tire, but it could be helpful in real life.


    The flow of undead never ceased, and Eric never stopped killing. He was covered in gore, barely aware of his surroundings, he only had eyes for the undead. He laid them to rest, once and for all. Everything that came against him fell. He didn¡¯t notice his own injuries or slow down for even a minute.


    Time stretched out. He couldn¡¯t tell if he¡¯d been fighting for days or minutes when he heard the goddess¡¯s voice one last time.


    ¡°You have reached Tank, Level 4.  New skill unlocked, Protector¡¯s Leap. You have reached Tank Level 5. New skill unlocked Reflect Projectiles. Strength and dexterity have both increased. Musculature and flexibility have increased to insure safer landings. Shield bash now does 5% more damage to enemies and and extra 5% damage to rigid targets. You can now reach those who need your protection more quickly and block yet more dangers. But remember, unblockable attacks exist, and you must always be wary of them.¡±


    Two levels? At the same time? Impossible. Under any other circumstance, Eric would have been ecstatic, but now, his mind had room only to consider his failure to protect his mother. The undead would pay...all of them.


    And pay they did, falling in waves that broke on the shore that was Eric, as if they had always been destined to return to their eternal slumber.  And then, a short time later, they all disappeared, along with his mother¡¯s corpse. Eric wasn¡¯t even tired, wounded though he was. He didn¡¯t even take a moment to examine his injuries. Instead, he looked around hoping for more undead.


    He had fallen short. The undead had paid, but it wasn¡¯t enough. No matter how many he killed, it wouldn¡¯t bring her back. Not if this had been real life. He had to be better. He had to be.


    Then the world faded, and Eric felt his consciousness slip away.

 Chapter 17 - Crime Pays

    Twelfth of Learning 1142


    As soon as Striker¡¯s body hit the ground, Dreek made his way toward her. Immediately the kreve, or whatever it was, blocked his passage. It growled menacingly but didn¡¯t attack. It wasn¡¯t going to let anything near Striker.


    Dreek shifted out of phase and moved closer. The creature snarled yet another warning and when Dreek continued to approach, it charged into him, knocking him back several feet. Dreek was perplexed. A physical being should have had no impact on him at all. The creature returned to guard Striker, leaving him confused and pensive.


    He had no idea how the kreve had changed but, thinking back, he had felt the moment that change had begun. When he¡¯d first encountered it, the third time the kreve had tried to touch him, something had touched the kreve. Some entity had used his body as a conduit to reach the beast, though who or what had that power was a complete mystery to him. Surely only a god-like being could be the cause of something like this. But why Striker, and what was wrong with her now?


    It wasn¡¯t the first level flare Dreek had ever seen, but the sheer power emanating from Striker was like nothing he had ever sensed. He could tell the others saw it from the way they shielded their eyes. It was normal for a person suffused with god energy to flash, and glow for a time afterwards, but Striker blazed like the sun, even now, when the flare should have settled into a more subdued glow.


    Dreek wasn¡¯t tremendously concerned about Striker. Sometimes people lost consciousness while leveling, and Striker was due. It had been a very long time since she had leveled. He suspected some of the Misfits thought that her behavior offended Sheba and that she had stopped leveling altogether, but no one would say it aloud.


    Dreek used Detect Level. Not much surprised Dreek, but he was both stymied and stunned when he found out that the young lady who had been the lowest level adventurer on the team was now the highest. When he had read Merck¡¯s class and level, he also looked in on the rest of the team, just to make sure the ability was working as intended. Everyone was exactly the level they should have been, which included Striker being Level 4. And now, a few days later, somehow she was Level 10.


    Dreek used Detect Class since Merck had changed classes but didn¡¯t expect to learn anything new. Striker hadn¡¯t changed class, not the way Merck had, but she had transitioned from Hunter to Beast Master, a particularly rare transition. Was this something Sheba had arranged? Who else could have done it? No other being could have possibly leveled Striker since she was tethered to Sheba. But he¡¯d never heard of Sheba giving anyone six levels in one night. The entire situation was bizarre.


    He considered, briefly, that maybe this wasn¡¯t Striker at all, that she had somehow been possessed by another being. He dismissed the notion almost as soon as it had come to him. Each sentient being had a unique signature that clearly identified them to those who could read such signatures. Striker¡¯s was not only unique, but would be particularly hard to emulate.


    There are events in your life that mark your soul permanently, and Striker clearly had one of those marks. It would not be that hard for an entity to fool him if they had possessed Ressssen or Garne, but Striker had suffered something horrendous, and it was so deep within her soul, it reflected on everything else that had developed afterwards. The complexity of the damage and the havoc it wreaked on her further development would have been all but impossible to recreate. And if something was possessing her with a different class, it would certainly have a different signature.


    Dreek was certain nothing less powerful than a demigod could impersonate Striker without him knowing. He had no idea what she had been through, but it was a very long time ago, in her developmental phase. She must have been a child. The others sometimes talked about Striker when she was off in town doing inexplicable things with people that she would never see again, and he could tell from their whispered conversations that they were concerned about her. They didn¡¯t understand her needs. But ironically, Dreek, who understood almost nothing else about how human¡¯s behaved, understood that her needs and desires were born of a terrible tragedy that had scarred her soul so badly, that the odds of her surviving it at all were beyond the realms of probability.


    Garne also had suffered damage to his soul, but it was far more recent. His identity had been long established before that had happened. Such an extra layer would be easier to fake than Striker¡¯s. In fact, Dreek had spent a long time studying Striker¡¯s signature, hoping to figure out some way to help her, but the wound was too large and too deep. The truth was, it was amazing she had survived to become the person she was today.


    But at least he understood why she had lost consciousness. The sheer amount of energy passing through her each time she leveled would have knocked out anyone.


    The sun was already starting to come up, and everyone had gathered to discuss what they should do next. Predictably, Garne was the first with a suggestion.


    ¡°We should just kill the thing and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Merck and Dreek at the same time. It was Merck who continued.


    ¡°My god instructed us to wait here. I can¡¯t believe it was for no reason. Killing the kreve could possibly anger my god, and I can assure you, none of us want to do that.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to hurt it,¡± said Ressssen, firmly, ¡°but perhaps we can lure it away with meat.¡±


    Striker¡¯s voice, weak but clear, interrupted the conversation. ¡°Why would you want to do that?¡±


    ¡°Because your pet won¡¯t let us near you to see if you¡¯re okay,¡± said Ressssen.


    Striker sat up¡­then slowly made her way to her feet. ¡°I seem to be. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you remember?¡± asked Ressssen.


    Garne attempted to get closer to her, and the kreve growled at him.


    ¡°Behave, Stalker. These people are my friends. They¡¯re my team. They are not going to hurt me.¡±


    At once, the kreve settled down, watching Garne, but made no further attempt to interfere with his approach.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember much. We were all waiting, Stalker came, and then¡­ I think I touched her. That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember anything else?¡± asked Dreek.


    She shook her head. Was a possible she didn¡¯t know she had leveled? He found that hard to believe. It was possible she knew and was keeping it a secret. If Sheba herself was behind this, he was absolutely not going to interfere. There were things you did and things you didn¡¯t do. Getting on the bad side of a god was something you didn¡¯t do, if you could at all help it. So Dreek didn¡¯t say anything. Eventually, it would come out, but it wasn¡¯t his choice as to when that was.


    ¡°Why do you call it Stalker?¡± asked Borin.


    ¡°Because that¡¯s her name. Don¡¯t ask me how I know. It¡¯s weird. Just last night I was joking about taming a kreve¡­¡±


    ¡°Not just any kreve,¡± said Dreek. ¡°You were talking about this kreve. This is the pack leader. The one that was stalking us.¡±


    ¡°So let me get this straight,¡± said Garne. ¡°You wanted a kreve as a pet and now you have one? Does that strike anyone else as strange, even for Striker?¡±


    Striker nodded. ¡°It¡¯s more than strange. How could something like this happen?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t remember anything else?¡± asked Dreek.


    From the long look she gave him, Dreek realized two things. Striker absolutely knew she had leveled, and now she knew that Dreek was also aware of just how unusual the process had been. It would be interesting to talk to her when the others weren¡¯t around.


    Dreek had seen many odd things in his day, but he¡¯d never seen or heard of anything like this.


    ¡°Do you want to rest?¡± asked Ressssen. ¡°Because we¡¯re not all that far from Pelaro.¡±


    ¡°I can walk,¡± said Striker. ¡°Or ride Stalker.¡±


    They all looked at her astonished.


    ¡°I¡¯m joking! You guys are too easy.¡±


    They started packing up and preparing to leave, when Striker wandered over to Dreek. She looked around casually, but Dreek could see that she was making sure no one was close enough to hear what she had to say. When she spoke, she kept her voice low.


    ¡°Whatever you think you know, I¡¯d suggest you keep it to yourself.¡±


    Dreek nodded. ¡°Believe me, Striker, whatever is going on between you and your goddess, I want no part of it. Your secret is safe with me. Just be aware, we all saw the level flare. Even if you don¡¯t say anything, the others will have some idea. I don¡¯t want you to think they learned it from me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll speak of it when I¡¯m ready. When I understand it better.¡±


    Without another word, Striker started helping to pack up, even though several others insisted she take it easy. There was definitely a piece of the puzzle Dreek was missing, and though he was curious, he was also cautious. He wouldn¡¯t directly interfere, but he was absolutely going to keep an eye on her.


    *


    Kalutu watched as his charges lay unmoving. Their unnatural stillness worried him, even though he had been prepared for it. Their souls, the very essence of their beings, were elsewhere. Their bodies continued the business of living without anything to guide them. Kalutu felt a pang of empathy. With his masters away in the Other Realm, he had no guidance for the first time since he¡¯d become a familiar. Even when Eric had been off transitioning, Dahr had remained behind. Now, he was completely alone, and the feeling unnerved him.


    He expected to know very little until one of the three awoke, but as it turned out that was not the case. Deep into the night, he felt what he could only describe as a shudder running through, not his body, but the world around him. He felt different. And somehow, he knew what had happened. One of his young masters had gained a level.  That¡¯s where his power came from...his masters leveling, as he had suspected.


    At first he wasn¡¯t sure if he actually felt stronger, or if he was imagining it. However, the feeling was repeated a number of times during the night and each time it happened, he felt stronger. There was no way this could be his imagination. He found himself wondering if he got more powerful than other familiars since he had two masters leveling, or if he was only as powerful as the one that had the highest level. Either way, Kalutu was thrilled.


    They were leveling! It was working. And the more power they had, the safer they were...at least that was the theory. Unless of course the greater power made them more of a threat to more powerful people...but he couldn¡¯t think that way.  This was a good thing. It had to be a good thing.


    It was another couple of hours before they awoke, Prince Dahr and Princess Chari first, followed a short time later by Prince Eric. Kalutu examined all three of them. Dahr and Chari both seemed fine, but Prince Eric seemed morose, especially for someone who had gained levels.


    ¡°Are you all right, Prince Eric?¡±


    Eric looked up from where he still lay on the floor and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Kalutu.¡±


    He pushed himself into a sitting position with, Kalutu thought, some difficulty. He finally looked at Dahr and Chari.


    ¡°How did it go?¡±


    ¡°We each gained three levels,¡± said Chari proudly. ¡°How about you?¡±


    ¡°Four. I¡¯m Level 5 now.¡±


    The words hung in the air, but there was no joy in them. There was a sadness in his voice that Kalutu didn¡¯t understand. But it was Chari who spoke.


    ¡°Okay mister, out with it. What happened in there?¡±


    Eric didn¡¯t say anything. She went to him and put her arms around him. ¡°Eric?¡±


    But the prince just bowed his head and sat there. It took a while for Kalutu to see the tears.


    No one spoke. Eric sat and cried, while Chari rocked him gently, trying her best to sooth him. Whatever had occurred, Prince Eric was unable to share it. Chari and Dahr exchanged concerned glances, but no one broke the silence, allowing Eric to attempt to come to terms with whatever had befallen him.


    *


    Veloran sat on a wooden chair staring down at a blank white sheet of paper. The desk upon which the paper sat, by contrast, had been worn down by the years, and was covered with scratches and old stains. Veloran had to admit, he felt more like the desk than the paper.


    At some point, this paper would contain the words of his next sermon, but at the moment, without a mark upon its purity, it had endless potential. It could eventually contain the greatest sermon he had ever written, though that was, of course, unlikely. The beauty of it stayed his hand, for he knew as soon as he picked up a quill, whatever potential it had would be destroyed. So he sat, paralyzed by his need to preserve, at least for the moment, something that was perfect the way it was.


    Veloran¡¯s quarters in the Temple of Sheba weren¡¯t much more impressive than that of any other priest, with the exception of it being above ground while most of the others were below. In addition to the desk and chair, there was a sleeping mat, a chest of drawers, a rack for his weapons and another for his armor. He didn¡¯t own much, not even the furniture in this room. Others lived lives of luxury, eating the best foods, garbed in the finest clothes, sitting in the most comfortable chairs. Veloran lived a spartan life by contrast, but he had something the nobility didn¡¯t, even though he had noble roots himself. He had a stronger connection to the goddess.


    As high priest, he was able to buy whatever he needed. He had access to the wealth of the temple, but what, at his age, did he need beyond what he already had?


    Veloran had recently turned sixty-seven years old and he felt every one of them keenly. He had the usual aches and pains that came with age, and he¡¯d lived a long full life filled with many highs and lows. He had lived through so much. But nothing had touched his life more deeply than the Undead War.


    He had been in his fifties when the goddess had called him to join the fight in Death¡¯s Doorstep, and he, and a contingent of priests, had heeded her call. But it wasn¡¯t just priests of Sheba. All the gods and goddesses of order sent their people to quell the undead invasion. No one knew what to expect. They entered as holy warriors in the most unholy of conflicts. Battles where even the most pure of heart could fall and come back as the enemy. He hadn¡¯t seen it himself, but he had heard the tales.


    He thought of Elenor, mounted on a piebald stallion in her pristine white scale mail, the day she left to join her family¡¯s army in the fight. Elenor with her not quite blonde short hair, her piercing green eyes, her sharp features, imperious on her horse. She might have been a bird of prey staring down at him.


    Unlike Veloran, his wife wasn¡¯t a priest, though she too had pledged herself to Sheba on the day of her transition. When the call came, she honored the commitment to her family as she had to. She had ridden off to war almost a week before he was called to do the same. And he¡¯d never seen her again. They had never found her body.


    He had loved her and lost her, either to death or undeath, but either way, she was beyond his reach. At the time, he hadn¡¯t realized that the Undead King could bring back their allies from the dead to fight against them, and when he had, he prayed as hard as he¡¯d ever prayed for anything that she had simply been killed and not taken. Too many of them had been. He wondered what Se Karn, the god of death, thought of the situation. Surely it must rankle him.


    He had asked Sheba about it, and even after all these years, her answer haunted him. ¡°I do not know what goes on in Xarinos nor, I suspect, does Se Karn. My mother calls it a dead zone, as if it belongs to another realm. Perhaps Iorana might have some measure of it, for she has studied it as extensively as one can study anything, over thousands of years. Yet there remain more questions than answers. The Plains of Xarinos are simply beyond our understanding or at very least, our ability to investigate.¡±


    This disturbed Veloran greatly, for it should have been impossible. Who was the Undead King, and why was he powerful enough to defy the gods? And if he was that powerful, how had he lost the war? It didn¡¯t make sense.


    Veloran glanced at the blank page in front of him. He had wanted something inspiring, but his thoughts kept running in the opposite direction. What was he meant to write about?


    Veloran?


    Sheba¡¯s voice in his head. A welcome reprieve, for it meant the page could remain perfect for just a bit longer.


    ¡°Yes, my goddess?¡±


    Another transition is coming. Please prepare for it.


    ¡°Yes, my goddess. May I know when it will be?¡±


    Tomorrow.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°So soon. Very well. Who is it?¡±


    You will know soon enough. Just be ready.


    He felt her leave, even though, of course, she was always with him. More strangeness at a time that had already brought its fair share. First there was Prince Dahr entering Prince Eric¡¯s transition, and summoning a familiar of all things, which they now both shared. A familiar that had emerged from the Other Realm with them, along with a holy weapon. Sheba really did favor that family. He had never seen his goddess offer such an overt display of support for any mortal. And then Prince Eric¡¯s transition being cut short only to finish when he shared Princess Chari¡¯s. Such things never happened, and yet they were all happening at once. He wondered, briefly, if the coming transition was part of the current sequence of events or something more mundane. He could go for a little normalcy about now.


    He pushed off the desk to stand, listening to the bones in his body creak. At length he straightened up to his full height and stretched. Then he left his quarters and walked toward the stairs leading down to the basement.


    He had lived at the temple for so long, he could walk these corridors blindfolded. It was as much a home to him as any place he¡¯d ever been. Some would call this place austere, but it was merely simple. People always felt they needed so much more than they did. More gold, more drink, more food, more love, more companionship. Perhaps he could turn that into a sermon. Nothing nobles liked to hear about more than their privilege. He shook his head. Not really the time to be annoying the nobles with whatever else was going to happen.


    He walked down the stairs sideways, because it was more comfortable for him. Easier to keep his balance too. He felt like a crab, but there was nothing for it. Adapt and stay busy, that was his motto.


    The temple basement contained many of the monks¡¯ sleeping quarters, but also a rather large storage room. He looked it over from the doorway and decided it was quite cluttered, and it was time to give some of this stuff away to charity. He passed a rack of old practice swords. The solid wooden kind. These days they used padded swords, still made of wood but less likely to cause injury. These older weapons had outlived their usefulness, almost like...


    Veloran¡­


    He winced. ¡°Yes, my goddess?¡±


    You are my high priest. Do you really feel you have outlived your usefulness?


    ¡°It is not my place to say.¡±


    Sheba clucked her tongue. Neat trick considering she didn¡¯t have a body at the moment. If not your place, whose is it? You¡¯re not implying it¡¯s mine, are you?


    Veloran shrugged. ¡°I fear it is time for me to pass the mantle. Let younger blood take my place. I have served for a long time, and it is my pleasure to do so still, but I fear I am getting too old for this.¡±


    And what is fear?


    ¡°My Goddess, it¡¯s just a manner of speaking. I am not scared of getting older.¡±


    But you are afraid.


    Veloran sighed. ¡°Yes, My Goddess. I¡¯m afraid that I am not the man I once was, and that I will not be able to serve you as well as someone younger.¡±


    Veloran, you are not my high priest because I need you to fight monsters. Nor are you my high priest because of your martial prowess. You have proven yourself again and again. Your role has evolved. Now you serve me by sharing your wisdom. By teaching. By guiding. There are exactly zero men younger than you that I would prefer in that role. It is my wish that you continue to serve me as high priest.


    ¡°Of course, Milady.¡±


    You haven¡¯t called me that in a long time. I rather like it.


    ¡°My Goddess is more formal, however. Should I not set an example for others to follow?¡±


    Dear Veloran. You may be my high priest, but you are also an old friend. At least, I see you as such. We have been through so much together, you and I. Do you not think you¡¯ve earned the right to be more familiar with me?


    He bowed his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I wish I could say that I have, but I have made many errors over the years, and even if you¡¯ve graciously forgiven me, I cannot in good conscience say that I have earned that right or any other.¡±


    Veloran, you are not a god, and it is hubris to believe that you should be perfect. Even the gods are not perfect, so how can mortals be expected to be. I am thousands of years old, and yet, with all that experience, I can still err.  Should I hold you to the same standards I hold myself? I accept that I am not always perfect. Why is that so hard for you?


    Veloran was silent for a long time. ¡°And yet, even now, I am guilty of hubris.¡±


    Sheba, to his surprise, laughed. You¡¯re hopeless. You¡¯re also my favorite priest. You shall address me as milady from this point forward, for you have earned that right. I hope that you consider me a friend as well as your goddess.


    ¡°I think to suggest it would sound like hubris to most. Nevertheless, I shall address you as Milady and I shall attempt to remember that I¡¯ve earned that right. One day, perhaps, I will feel it is true.¡±


    If you trust me, you¡¯ll believe me when I say it is. You trust me, don¡¯t you?


    Veloran sighed. ¡°Yes, Milady. I trust you as I trust no one else.¡±


    He felt a pair of warm lips brush his forehead. A mother kissing a foolish child to reassure him. Then she was gone again. Not for the first time he thought that being a priest was like living with a nosy roommate. Nothing was ever private. Of course, as a goddess, she was entitled to interfere in his life. It was her role to guide him as much as it was his role to guide others. And suddenly there was an idea for his sermon.


    He made his way to where the veresh was stored. Veresh was accurately called the elixir of the gods, for it required a god¡¯s blessing to function at all. Occasionally, enterprising alchemists attempted to create veresh, replacing blessings with some sort of magic, never successfully. Which didn¡¯t stop the less reputable of them from selling something they called veresh. Or using it to create drugs like gold leaf and sizzle. No, veresh was not for mortals to create. And yet, on the rare occasions Veloran came down here to fetch a bottle, he did not think of the gods. Instead it was a reminder of the dark days, when so many infants and young children had died due to an alchemist¡¯s careless experiments. At least he hoped they were careless. To this day, no one really knew if Larish had done it on purpose or if it had been some sort of horrible accident.


    Once, there had been so many transitions, a priest almost couldn¡¯t keep up with them. These days, a batch of veresh could last a couple of years. Just thinking about the magnitude of the loss hurt his soul.


    He reached the area where he kept the veresh and looked around, puzzled. It should have been right on the table in front of him. Everything else seemed present, but the box was missing. Strange. No one ever came down here.


    He searched the general area, then expanded his search and finally, called in some of the other priests to help. Wallac, a priest older than him by almost ten years, came to him.


    ¡°Are you sure you didn¡¯t run out and forget? You¡¯re not getting any younger.¡±


    ¡°I make an entire case at a time. There was plenty left.¡±


    ¡°Well what are you suggesting young man? That someone broke into the temple and stole them? Who would be daft enough to do something like that?¡±


    Who indeed? It was madness. In fact, it wasn¡¯t even possible. Not without Sheba being aware of it. But the search turned up nothing and the other priests returned to their duties. Veloran, standing alone in the store room asked the question.


    ¡°Milady? Did someone actually steal the box of veresh I had stored here?¡±


    He had expected an answer, but there was none forthcoming. His goddess was silent, which meant one of two things. He had either asked the wrong question, or she wanted him to figure this out for himself.


    Who could enter a temple without triggering some kind of alarm. A priest of course. Or a warrior who enjoyed the goddess¡¯ favor...


    The high priest groaned aloud, looked up at his goddess, though of course, that wasn¡¯t the direction he¡¯d find her, and spoke.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    *


    Pelaro was the seat of government for the Allied Kingdoms of Karmenon. Every kingdom that had joined the pact sent representatives to govern what they called the greater kingdom together. The city had to remain independent, so none of the kingdoms that had signed onto the pact was any more powerful than any other. All nice in theory, of course. In practice, two kingdoms, Zoloa and the Kingdom of Sawheta, were more powerful than the rest, and those kingdoms made the bulk of the decisions, at least the important ones.


    Striker saw the walls of the city long before they got close. First, as a Beast Master she retained all of her Hunter skills, and one of those skills allowed her to see further than most humans. Adding to this was the fact that the walls were massive. Finally, trees around the city had been cleared for a good distance. The city removed anything that blocked the view of the surrounding area, so they could see enemies in case an attack was coming.


    But Striker wasn¡¯t thinking about the walls, or the politics. Instead she ran through a list of all the taverns she¡¯d visited in that city and wondered how many she might have missed. There was nothing Striker liked more than a tavern, with its warm fireplace, comfortable beds, plentiful booze and of course, potential partners for a sexual interlude. Striker could do without the bed, the booze and the fire, as long as she found herself a man she could make use of and then forget. Preferably, one who would forget her as well. She wasn¡¯t looking for a relationship, she was looking for sex, pure and simple. People thought she was insecure, or that she wanted attention but that wasn¡¯t it at all. The sex energized her in ways she couldn¡¯t explain to anyone. Relationships, on the other hand, she found draining. In truth, it didn¡¯t matter what people thought. It was none of their damned business anyway.


    Before they got to the wall, Striker called Stalker. The kreve came and sat, half faithful pet dog, half terrifying monster. Striker knelt beside her, stroking the beautiful black fur on top of her back and along her sides.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to part ways for now, but we are connected, always. I will be able to find you, and you will be able to find me. Stay away from the city and hunt, but do not kill humans or any other thinking creature. You can only hunt animals. Give those that live here no reason to fear you or hunt you down. Also, take no animal behind a fence. They are there for people, not for you. Do you understand?¡±


    The great beast nodded as if she really did understand. Striker couldn¡¯t figure out if she could understand the words or she was utilizing the mental link between them. She had experienced a similar mental link before and this felt different. More personal. More intimate.


    ¡°Go now. And stay out of trouble. We won¡¯t be long.¡±


    With that, the kreve who was no longer a kreve ran off into the edge of the woods, away from the city and the cleared area around it.


    The gates were open when they reached them in the late afternoon, but they would be closed before the sun set, as was normal for most walled cities. No one looked twice at her as she passed through the gates, but people did peer at Ressssen, if only obliquely. No doubt the serpent lord was aware of the attention but she was probably used to it. She turned to face Striker.


    ¡°Head over to Wanderer¡¯s Rest. Get us set up. Get an extra room for Merck. You have coin?¡±


    Striker nodded.


    ¡°Merck and I are going to head to the guild building. Join us there after you¡¯ve secured the rooms.¡±


    Striker nodded and set off. Here the group split, with Merck, Ressssen and Garne heading to the guild building, Borin and Dreek going with her.  She wondered how she so often ended up with a salad and a phase shifter, rather than the other human.  It seemed odd.  Yet this was often the way their group split, at least until the drinking started. Then Borin an Dreek would disappear and the rest would be drinking the night away, or if all went well, several nights.


    She reached the Wanderer¡¯s Rest after a short walk from the gate, and stopped outside to admire it. There was, in truth, nothing to distinguish it from any other inn, except for the sign in front, which bore its name and a picture of a silhouette of a man walking with a pack on his back. The building was made of wood, and did nothing to impress. The shutters were open to the air, but there was no glass beneath them, just square gaps in the structure. It looked worn down, but it was clean enough and well maintained.


    ¡°You¡¯re showing your age, old girl,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± asked Borin.


    ¡°Nothing, let¡¯s go.¡±


    The inside was what she expected, because she¡¯d been here before. Tables and chairs, mostly empty this early, a long bar along the far wall, some cheap paintings on the walls, and a large lizard head over an unlit fireplace. And behind the bar was a middle-aged human woman who glanced up as they came in, and did a double take.


    She looked fortyish, with curly brown hair, brown eyes, light brown skin, and a smile on her face that Striker knew was for them.


    ¡°Well, well, if it isn¡¯t the Misfits of Karmenon. Get in here, ya scoundrels. Let me have a look at you.¡±


    ¡°Do we owe you money?¡± asked Striker, not moving any closer.


    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I just figured anyone this happy to see us is probably expecting to get paid.¡±


    The woman behind the bar threw back her head and guffawed. Striker didn¡¯t think the joke was that funny, but the woman¡¯s laughter was infectious and soon she was laughing as well. Borin and Dreek didn¡¯t join her, and she again wondered how she ended up with them every single time.


    She started toward the bar. ¡°Set up a tab, and rooms for all of us, and we¡¯ll need one extra for someone with us.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Merchant? Noble?¡±


    ¡°Priest.¡±


    The woman looked surprised. ¡°Maybe he or she can break you of your heathen habits.¡±


    Striker shook her head. ¡°Not going to happen, Grace. My heathen habits are deeply ingrained.¡±


    Grace seemed to study her closely then tsked. ¡°You¡¯ve changed, girl.¡±


    ¡°Changed?¡±


    ¡°Your not a Hunter anymore.¡±


    Borin looked like he was about to ask a question, but Dreek stepped on his toe and whispered, ¡°Let it go.¡±


    Striker hadn¡¯t noticed the interplay, focused as she was on the barkeep. ¡°You can see that?¡±


    ¡°Benefits of the class, don¡¯t you know.¡±


    ¡°Wait...you have a class?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been a Merchant for a long time, but becoming a Barkeep as a specialization allows me to read people pretty well.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know Barkeep was a class. Is it Tier 2?¡±


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s a Tier 1 specialization. I spend too much time here. I think it¡¯s a dead end though. There¡¯s no where to go from it, unlike Hunter. How did you manage it?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, no idea. It had been so long since I leveled, I guess I skipped a few.¡±


    If the Barkeep was surprised, she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Well good for you. I¡¯ll get those rooms set up, this one¡¯s on the house.¡±


    Grace poured a glass of whiskey, and Striker downed it in a single gulp. She closed her eyes savoring the burning in the back of her throat. She had needed that.


    ¡°Thanks, Grace. I¡¯ll see you later, got some business to take care of.¡±


    ¡°Oh? What¡¯s his name, then?¡±


    Striker shook her head and grinned. ¡°Not that kind of business. We¡¯ll be back.¡±


    The whole while, neither Borin nor Dreek had said a word. The three left the inn together.  Outside, Borin addressed her.


    ¡°That was banter?¡±


    ¡°It was.¡±


    ¡°I still do not understand what humans get from it.¡±


    Striker thought for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s just comfortable, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Borin seemed to think about this for a long time but didn¡¯t bring it up again.


    *


    Dahr stood in Leata¡¯s office, looking at the expectant Chamberlain in defiance. Leata was amused as he hadn¡¯t yet said anything, except good morning. She wondered what was coming next.


    ¡°We¡¯re taking the day off from training today.¡±


    ¡°Oh are you? Last I heard, His Majesty King Terrence was in charge.¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s why I¡¯m here. You¡¯re going to tell him that we¡¯re taking the day off.¡±


    Leata raised an eyebrow. ¡°And why would I do that?¡±


    ¡°Because we¡¯re taking the day off today. You should probably pay more attention.¡±


    ¡°Dahr, what¡¯s gotten into you?¡±


    She looked him over. He seemed resolved. He met her gaze unflinchingly.


    ¡°We can¡¯t tell you everything and we don¡¯t really have to. You¡¯re training us for our benefit. We will probably make time later in the day for arms training, but we¡¯re at least taking the morning off. If the king has any problem with this, I¡¯ll talk to him, but I don¡¯t think he will. I don¡¯t think you should either.¡±


    Leata stared at him, hard. Finally, after a few minutes, she realized what was different.


    ¡°Dahr, did you level?¡±


    ¡°We all did. But we need time to recuperate from what we¡¯ve been through, and before you ask, we won¡¯t be sharing it.¡±


    ¡°May I ask why?¡±


    ¡°What happened is between Sheba, George and us. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re supposed to tell anyone else.¡±


    Leata studied Dahr, but she got the distinct impression he was telling the truth.


    *


    Veloran had to wait for his audience with King Terrence, but that wasn¡¯t totally unexpected. He didn¡¯t have an appointment, and the king would no doubt be busy, especially with his royal guests still in town.  He was standing near the throne room doors. He waited outside, even though the doors were open. He was never comfortable being alone in the throne room.


    As he stood there, Leata approached. He hadn¡¯t had many conversations with her, but he knew her reputation. He performed something that was between a nod and a bow, whereas she simply bowed. Personally, Veloran didn¡¯t care for such niceties, but when you were in the palace, particularly representing the goddess, you had to keep up appearances.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit early for an unscheduled visit. Is everything all right?¡±


    ¡°Mostly¡­we had a theft from the temple. It¡¯s fairly unusual but what was taken was even more unusual.  The thieves took a box of veresh.¡±


    Leata looked perplexed. ¡°Who in the right minds would¡­¡± Her voice trailed off. She thought about Dahr leveling and taking the day off today. ¡°Oh no!¡±


    ¡°What is it? Is everything all right?¡±


    Leata shook her head. ¡°I think I might have a pretty good idea of who stole your potions. Come with me.¡±


    Veloran, also having a good idea of who had stolen the potions, followed the chamberlain, who managed to walk at a pace that had him scurrying to keep up.


    *


    Eric and Kalutu were alone in the anteroom of his suite. He was exhausted but refused to lie down. He didn''t want to be alone. Instead he passed the time chatting casually with Kalutu about anything but his experiences of the night before. His familiar seemed to sense his need to keep the conversation light, for which Eric was grateful. He needed to relax before he tried to sleep.


    There was a knock at the door, and Eric looked at Kalutu. ¡°Would you see who that is?¡±


    Kalutu nodded. ¡°Of course, Prince Eric.¡±


    He moved to the door and opened it. Outside stood Leata and Veloran.


    ¡°A moment, while I see if the princes are available.¡±


    Eric was amused, because they could see him sitting on the sofa across from the open doorway.


    ¡°Just let them in, Kalutu.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, Prince Eric.¡±


    Eric looked up at them as they approached. Though he had smiled at Kalutu¡¯s faux pas, he hadn¡¯t yet recovered from the night¡¯s ordeal. He must have looked it, because when Leata uttered her first words to him that morning, they were laced with concern.


    ¡°Are you all right, Your Highness? You look unwell.¡±


    Prince Eric forced a smile. It didn¡¯t seem to reassure his visitors. ¡°I¡¯m fine. What can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about the veresh,¡± said Veloran taking over.


    ¡°Veresh?¡±


    ¡°The potion used in transitions.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    Leata smirked. ¡°You stole a potion and didn¡¯t even know what it was called?¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°I stole nothing.¡±


    ¡°So it was Dahr, then.¡±


    Eric didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t want to lie to anyone at the palace, and they obviously knew anyway.


    ¡°How did you find out?¡±


    ¡°Two and two will always equal four, my prince. Dahr was in my office to demand the day off for all three of you, and then I saw that he¡¯d leveled.¡±


    This was news to Veloran who leaned forward, studying Eric intently. ¡°Wait, you leveled?¡±


    ¡°We did. All of us.¡±


    ¡°Except me,¡± chimed in Kalutu.


    ¡°Right,¡± said Eric. ¡°I¡¯m Level 5 now.¡±


    Leata gasped. Veloran¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You gained four levels in a single night?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡±


    Veloran fought through his amazement to recapture the stern expression he¡¯d worn a moment before. ¡°Do you know how dangerous it is to use veresh outside the walls of a temple?¡±


    ¡°No. Do you know how dangerous what we¡¯re going to be facing is?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± said Leata. ¡°Stealing is wrong. Stealing from a temple...what would your father say?¡±


    Eric sighed, then forced himself to sit up straight. ¡°Look, this situation is not a typical situation. We didn¡¯t steal anything. We were given those potions.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± asked Veloran.


    ¡°How could anyone break into a Temple of Sheba and take something without her knowing? As far as I can tell, this was part of our training. If we¡¯d asked for it, we¡¯d have gotten it anyway.¡±


    Dahr entered the room at this point, obviously having heard some of the conversation through the door to his room.


    ¡°I stole the potions. The responsibility is mine and mine alone.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± said Eric and Veloran at the same time.


    They looked at each other, but it was Eric who continued.


    ¡°I knew about it. It was my responsibility to turn you in. That¡¯s honorable. I didn¡¯t do that. I¡¯m as guilty as you are.¡±


    ¡°And what about Princess Chari?¡± asked Leata. ¡°Did she know about this as well?¡±


    The door to Eric¡¯s bedroom opened, and Princess Chari emerged, bleary eyed.


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to accuse people, you should do it where there are no princesses trying to sleep,¡± she grumbled.


    Leata looked scandalized, whereas Veloran simply looked amused. ¡°Young lady. You are not to spend time unchaperoned with either of the princes while you are under this roof.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s sorta funny because I¡¯ve spent time with both of them in the Other Realm with no chaperons. Is this somehow worse?¡±


    Leata was not to be put off. ¡°You can¡¯t get pregnant in the Other Realm.¡±


    Eric jumped in. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be too sure. I only say this because a couple of weeks ago, you¡¯d have probably said you couldn¡¯t summon a familiar in the Other Realm.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fair point,¡± said Veloran, thoughtfully.


    Leata gave him a sour look. ¡°Whose side are you on?¡±


    Veloran raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡°That would be Sheba¡¯s. I¡¯d have thought it obvious.¡±


    Leata started to speak, apparently realized she was talking to a high priest and returned her attention to Eric.


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is you can steal from a temple and not suffer any consequences for it?¡±


    Eric smiled sadly. ¡°You¡¯ll never be able to comprehend precisely what I suffered last night, Leata. I¡¯m sorry that we are training so unconventionally, but I think it might be time for everyone to accept that this is a unique situation. Maybe we all need to reset our expectations. Nothing about this is normal. We can¡¯t keep treating it like it is.¡±


    Leata grew angry. ¡°Rules exist for a reason.¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°They do. And sometimes they can be broken for a reason as well. Tell me, if Sheba herself told you to break a rule, would you?¡±


    ¡°Is that what happened?¡± asked Veloran.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the point. What is the point is that we¡¯re in a situation that no one has ever seen before. And we can¡¯t depend on old patterns of behavior to deal with it. Anyway, Chari was tired and lay down to get some sleep. I wasn¡¯t even in the room with her.¡±


    Leata sighed. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to talk to your father.¡±


    Eric shrugged. ¡°I would expect nothing less. While you¡¯re at it, tell him to start planning the wedding. Whatever limitations we¡¯re going to be put under, being chaperoned everywhere we go isn¡¯t one of them.¡±


    Leata shook her head and turned to go, but Veloran held up a hand.


    ¡°Can I borrow one of those potions? I need it for a transition.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± said Dahr and he ran into his room to get one. When he returned he handed it to the High Priest. ¡°Though you might want to make more of these...just in case.¡±

 Chapter 18 - The Adventurers Guild

    Chapter 18 ¨C The Adventurer¡¯s Guild


    Twelfth of Learning 1142


    The home of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in Pelaro was the largest and most impressive guild building in the country. The structure was made from large sandstone bricks, but the mortar that held it together was the same shade, making it look, at least from the distance, as if it was carved from a single, giant piece of stone. It stood five stories tall, not only the tallest structure in the vicinity, but the most massive in terms of the amount of space it consumed. It dwarfed nearby guild buildings, who looked as if they cowered in the shadow of a giant, which politically wasn¡¯t far from the truth.


    Inside were rooms for guests, recovering adventurers, conferences, teaching, designated areas to practice magic and combat, offices to handle the bureaucratic nuances that any large organization had to deal with¨C even an official office for a young royal, tasked with acting as liaison for the nobility to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. No real authority was attached to the role, but it gave a prince or princess from one of the member kingdoms some much needed experience in dealing with adventurers, a thing all nobility had to do sooner or later. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild held a vast amount of political power all around the world, but nowhere was that power greater than in The Allied Kingdoms of Karmenon.


    Outside, the building was surrounded by designated gathering points, where groups could meet up, or expeditions could organize. Shops huddled around the vast structure, like barnacles attached to the hull of a ship, selling pretty much anything an adventurer could want¨C potions weapons, armor, camping gear, clothing, riding gear and tack, even diving equipment. None of these shops were particularly large, but they were well stocked. Their parent shops were some of the best to be found in the city, and they paid the Adventurer¡¯s Guild quite a lot of coin to be allowed to set up there. To those who had never been inside, the Adventurer¡¯s Guild Headquarters was an intimidating structure, but to even low level members, it was a home away from home.


    The reception desk was positioned immediately as you walked in, right in the middle of the hall. It was a large, polished wooden affair that immediately drew the eye. Around the rest of the large room were tables and seats where adventurers could sit and chat, or even have a snack and something to drink. A woman sat behind the desk, who had probably been chosen as much for her appearance as for her abilities. She was young, probably early twenties, with flawless white skin, full lips, pale blonde hair and the bluest eyes Ressssen had ever seen. The serpent lord didn¡¯t like that sort of thing, but she couldn¡¯t deny that it was more welcoming than say having a salad sitting there.


    ¡°Welcome to the Pelaro Adventurer¡¯s Guild, what can I do for you today?¡±


    ¡°I need to speak to someone about a situation of some sensitivity. It¡¯s important so I won¡¯t say more here in the open. We¡¯d like a room that¡¯s shielded from scrying, and someone who can cast a truth spell.¡±


    The receptionist didn¡¯t blink. Her smile never faltered. Damn she was good. ¡°Are you a member of the guild?¡±


    ¡°Yesssss, I am Ressssen, leader of the team the Misfits of Karmenon.¡±


    The serpent lord pulled a metal identification pin out of her pouch and placed it on the table. The receptionist glanced at it and nodded. ¡°Please wait here. I¡¯ll send your request through the proper channels.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    After retrieving her pin, Ressssen moved toward one of several refreshment vendors in the lobby and purchased a pot of hot tea. They acquired three cups, and retreated to one of the tables that sat off to the side, in an area with relatively few adventurers around.


    Merck looked around with interest, having never been in the building before, but Ressssen and Garne had both been here several times, and paid little attention to their surroundings. Ressssen poured tea for the three of them, and explained what was likely to happen next.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be asked questions, probably quite a few of them. They¡¯ll know if you¡¯re lying so tell the truth. If you can¡¯t answer a question just say that. We¡¯ll pass on the information and see what kind of help we can get from the guild.¡±


    ¡°What if they won¡¯t help us?¡± asked Merck, concern etched on his face.


    Garne shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ll help us. Imagine being the Adventurer¡¯s Guild official that turned down doing something about the¡­¡±


    Ressssen held up a hand, forestalling him. ¡°Not here, Garne. Too many eyes and ears.¡±


    A few of the people nearby looked disappointed and even some people further away.


    Merck scowled. ¡°Were those people eavesdropping?¡±


    Ressssen chuckled. ¡°Of course they were. In this business, information is power, and everyone is trying to move up in the ranks. Well, all the successful teams anyway. If we really have something that needs a shielded room, the amount of interest in us will be quite high.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that make us targets?¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you¡¯d think. There are stiff penalties for harming a fellow member of the guild, particularly for something like that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to point out that I¡¯m not a member.¡±


    Garne chuckled. ¡°Good going. Those that are listening didn¡¯t know that until now.¡±


    Merck groaned and put his head on the table.


    Ressssen placed a clawed hand on his shoulder. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯ll protect you.¡±


    She looked around the room pointedly after speaking, just to make sure that everyone who was bothering to eavesdrop was aware that Merck wouldn¡¯t be taken from them without a fight.


    *


    King Terrence sat on the throne.  At Leata¡¯s request, he had cleared the throne room and closed the door, so that only Treya, Leata and Veloran were present. Then she launched into an explanation of the days events. As the king listened, his face grew increasingly concerned.


    ¡°So as I see it, we have two problems,¡± he said, after hearing the entire story. ¡°The first is that Dahr stole a box of potions from the Temple of Sheba, and the second is that Chari is spending time alone with Eric. One of those problems has an easy solution.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡± asked Leata.


    ¡°Have a wedding. It¡¯ll be smaller if we have to plan it faster, but it might be worth it to give them both the freedom and cover they need.¡±


    ¡°That was Eric¡¯s solution as well. How do you think King Leonid and Queen Rhea are going to take it?¡±


    King Terrence smiled, wryly. ¡°When I tell them what happened, they might insist on it.¡±


    ¡°That leaves the other matter,¡± said Veloran. ¡°It¡¯s two matters actually. The first is the theft. The temple is not going to make an issue of it¡­¡±


    King Terrence cut him off. ¡°Absolutely not. Right and wrong remain right and wrong. No son of mine can change that. Dahr will have to be punished.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked the queen. ¡°He¡¯s been through a lot lately. I¡¯m not surprised he¡¯s acting out.¡±


    Terrence chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve always had a soft spot in your heart for that boy. But it doesn¡¯t matter. He has to know what he did was wrong.¡±


    ¡°Unless he¡¯s right,¡± said Leata, ¡°and he was simply following his god¡¯s instructions. As it was described to me, that¡¯s exactly what his god told him he must do.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± added the queen, ¡°what Sheba told you to do was to let him.¡±


    King Terrence¡¯s face started turning red. There was a dangerous look in his eye. ¡°This is not what honor is about. This is not something we can just let go. Robbing a temple¡­¡±


    ¡°Training,¡± said a voice in the air around them. They all heard it, and they all recognized it.


    All the energy went out of the king. He dropped his head. ¡°My apologies to all of you. We can not interfere in Eric and Dahr¡¯s training. If Sheba can accept her own temple being robbed, who am I to gainsay her?¡±


    He said the words but didn¡¯t look happy. The queen reached over and placed her hand on his. ¡°It¡¯s all right, my love. It will be all right. Sheba just wants our sons to survive. If she knew what was going on and accepted it, then there is no victim here.¡±


    The king nodded. ¡°It is so. But there is still one more thing to talk about. You said that Eric gained four levels in one night. What about the others?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know specifics, but they all leveled,¡± said Leata.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Are we saying veresh can help you level?¡±


    Veloran shook his head. ¡°It can¡¯t, which is why I was so surprised. Experiments have been done, but veresh itself does not accelerate the leveling process and can be dangerous if consumed outside a temple. That much we do know.¡±


    ¡°We can let them know the risks, but we can¡¯t make decisions for them. Veloran, make sure they know what they need to know to use the potions safely.¡±


    Veloran bowed low. ¡°I will, Your Majesty.¡±


    *


    Striker, Dreek and Borin made their way to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The building looked the same as the last time Striker had been there, but no matter how many times she saw it, it still impressed her. The inside, however, was more interesting. She found Ressssen at a table with Garne and Merck.


    ¡°What¡¯s the deal with all the adventurers we don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Ressssen.


    ¡°What happened to the regular guys?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all in the dungeon,¡± shouted out a woman, who was obviously still eavesdropping.


    ¡°Dungeon?¡± said Ressssen. ¡°There¡¯s no dungeon around here.¡±


    ¡°There is now. It¡¯s new.¡±


    Ressssen looked confused, or at least she would have looked confused if you could read serpent lord facial expressions, which was quite a trick. Most humans couldn¡¯t. ¡°How can there be a new dungeon?¡±


    The woman shrugged.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be new,¡± said Striker. ¡°Maybe she means a recently discovered dungeon.¡±


    The woman again spoke. ¡°No, it¡¯s a new dungeon, as in one that wasn¡¯t there this time last month.¡±


    Striker blinked. That made no sense. How could a new dungeon just appear? This was something she¡¯d have to check out when she had some time.


    Merck cleared his throat. ¡°Ummm, if I may. What is a dungeon?¡±


    Striker raised her eyebrows in surprise. ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of a dungeon?¡±


    ¡°Of course I''ve heard of them. I just don¡¯t really know what they are. I mean dungeons are places with monsters and treasure, but that¡¯s all I know.¡±


    Ressssen spoke up. ¡°A dungeon is a place, usually underground, where monsters and treasure exist together. The dungeons near big cities are usually quite low level. It¡¯s unlikely there¡¯s a new one because building one would be noticed if it were near a city, even a small one.¡±


    ¡°This one isn¡¯t small,¡± the woman called out, ¡°and it¡¯s not low level either.¡±


    ¡°Will you stop listening to our conversation?¡± growled Garne.


    ¡°Nah. I have an appointment with an official, but he always keeps me waiting. And this is more entertaining than sitting here.¡±


    ¡°Just ignore her,¡± said Ressssen. ¡°And don¡¯t say anything you don¡¯t want her to hear.¡±


    To Striker¡¯s surprise, Borin took over the conversation.


    ¡°Actually I read several books on dungeons. I find them fascinating. While Ressssen¡¯s description was technically correct, there¡¯s more to a dungeon than just monsters and treasure.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± asked Merck.


    The entire team turned to Borin in surprise.


    ¡°Yes. Dungeons aren¡¯t something that form naturally. They¡¯re deliberately created. It takes years if not decades to build even a small one, and only the most powerful people can do it.¡±


    ¡°Why does it take so long?¡± asked Striker. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you just create a small area underground and throw some monsters in it?¡±


    ¡°Only maybe a single species, or two that get along, but that¡¯s not really what a dungeon is,¡± answered Borin. ¡°A dungeon is deliberately created. It has to be balanced. The creatures in it need to be placed in such a way that they either don¡¯t have access to each other, or they breed fast enough but not too fast so they don¡¯t overwhelm the dungeon or don¡¯t get wiped out. It takes a lot of skill and planning, not to mention money and power.


    ¡°Some people create dungeons as tests for others. Others create them to protect their own treasure after they¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? That seems like a lot of work,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t work to people who create dungeons. It¡¯s more like a¡­¡± Borin paused so he could choose the right word, ¡°like a hobby.¡±


    ¡°A hobby!¡± Garne laughed. ¡°This is why you shouldn¡¯t read too many books.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± insisted Borin. ¡°Imagine that you¡¯re a high-level Mage. Maybe Tier 4 or 5.¡±


    ¡°No one alive is Tier 5,¡± said Garne.


    ¡°That we know of. And we do know there have been Tier 5s in the past when a lot of dungeons were created. Now imagine you¡¯re almost immortal. Not only do you live a long time, but nothing is powerful enough to kill you or even challenge you. You¡¯ve already traveled the world. You¡¯ve created spells. You¡¯ve built yourself a palace. You¡¯re rich. You¡¯re powerful. What do you do to fill your time?¡±


    ¡°Are you saying,¡± asked Garne, ¡°That dungeons are there simply because some powerful adventurers ages ago decided they needed something to do?¡±


    ¡°A bit more than that. It is an interesting challenge to see if you can get the balance right. Or how big you could build one before it consumes itself due to complexity. Or how complex a dungeon you can make.¡±


    ¡°So if these dungeons were built so long ago, why are there no dungeons of high levels near cities?¡± Garne was trying to find a flaw in the explanation.


    ¡°Because dungeons that are powerful are created in places of power, or near places of power. Which means that people avoid them and particularly avoid settling near them. They find nice quiet places to build cities. Low level dungeons are acceptable, even desirable, because they give cities some fame and often a lot of business when people come to see them. You know, Merck, those ruins in the swamp where we met you are the entrance to a dungeon.¡±


    Merck looked stunned. ¡°They are?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It was cleared out years ago by adventurers in the area, but that doesn¡¯t make it safe. Once a dungeon is cleared, it¡¯s just an underground warren waiting other creatures to settle in it.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, if dungeons take so long to make and they¡¯re so powerful,¡± chimed in Striker, ¡°I don¡¯t see how there could be a new dungeon anywhere near a big city. It would have been discovered by now. And it couldn¡¯t be a high level dungeon, because there isn¡¯t a place of sufficient power anywhere near here.¡±


    The woman who had been eavesdropping had wandered over now, either tired of using a skill, or tired of shouting responses. She was listening with everyone else. Only Garne seemed annoyed by this, glaring at the woman as she spoke.


    ¡°Nevertheless it is a new dungeon. There¡¯s a place near town, close even, where sometimes teenagers go to hang out and drink, or they sneak out there on a dare. It¡¯s just a long deep cave. A well known local spot that has only one entrance. It¡¯s big and obvious.  Unless a bear decides to sleep in there, there¡¯s no danger. It¡¯s been used for decades. Then one day, it was different. A few teenagers went to do whatever it is they do there, and they never came back. Their friends alerted the guard, and they investigated. What they found was the entrance to a new dungeon. One that had never been there before.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s extraordinary,¡± said Borin, still obviously excited. ¡°When did it happen? And did they ever find the missing children?¡±


    If the newcomer was uncomfortable talking to a salad, she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°They didn¡¯t. And it was about a week ago.¡±


    ¡°A week, about the time¡­¡± Merck suddenly yelped when Striker kicked him under the table. He was right. It was about the time he had had his vision, but that didn¡¯t mean the events were related. And no one had to know more about their business.


    Could this entire endeavor somehow be related to a brand new dungeon appearing out of nowhere? Striker didn¡¯t see how it was possible. Nor did she have time to consider it now, for a guild official was approaching them across the large room.


    He was a man of average height, shorter than most of the Misfits, probably about the same height as Merck. He had dark brown hair and eyes, and he was clean-shaven. He was thin, impeccably dressed in robes displaying the Adventurer¡¯s Guild insignia. If there was a bureaucrat class, he would have been a prime example. Of course, no such class existed. Imagine a god of bureaucrats. What would that look like? Striker shuddered, then smiled.


    People watched as he approached. He said not a word, but motioned for them to follow, and so the Misfits of Karmenon stood, followed by Merck, who seemed oblivious to the curious and avaricious stares that followed him as he walked.


    The official didn¡¯t speak until they were up two flights of stairs and sequestered in a room shielded against scrying. The room had a long rectangular table surrounded by chairs and nothing else. The official sat at the head of the table, and gestured for them to join him. Striker wished the chairs had cushions because she had a feeling they would be here for quite a while. It¡¯s likely, she thought, that the reason they didn¡¯t have cushions was to encourage people to get done with their business as soon as possible.


    ¡°My name is Nasya Grilla, and I am in charge of vetting requests such as the one you have made. Understand that I am not authorized to make final decisions, so much as verify that what you say is true and pass that information on to others that are above me. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yessss.¡±


    ¡°Good. Tell me why you asked for this meeting.¡±


    Ressssen¡¯s tongue flicked out for a moment, tasting the air for whatever it was serpent lords sensed for, or perhaps she was just nervous. She had probably never had to do anything like this. When she spoke, it was slowly and deliberately without the extended esses she often used for effect.


    ¡°This is Merck Vanderoth. When I met him, about a week ago, he was a Level 4 Swindler. He is now a Level 1 Priest. He transitioned in the Mistmeer swamp ruins several hours outside of Tarlet. He has no idea which god he serves, but he was told one thing. He is supposed to find a boy, and finding him will have something to do with ending the undead threat.¡±


    Naysa Grilla shook his head, and for a moment, Striker thought he was going to ask Ressssen to repeat the bizarre assertion.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite a story,¡± he said finally, after a few seconds to parse the statement. He turned to Merck. ¡°You used to be a Swindler?¡±


    ¡°That is correct.¡±


    ¡°And now you¡¯re a Priest, but you don¡¯t know who you serve?¡±


    ¡°Again correct.¡±


    ¡°How did this occur?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re telling the truth, or at least a version of events you believe to be true. What is it you want from the guild, Ressssen?¡±


    ¡°We want to take this further. We want a contract to travel with Merck and guard him while he tries to find this boy.¡±


    ¡°And I suppose, Mr. Vanderoth, that you want some compensation for this as well.¡±


    Merck looked surprised. ¡°I do not. I have been tasked with something that I will do with or without your help. I only want to find this boy and help end the undead threat.¡±


    The man nodded. ¡°Again the truth. You were right to bring this to the attention of the guild, but I sincerely doubt that your team will be allowed to go with him.¡±


    ¡°For what reason?¡± asked Ressssen.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything this important being trusted to a Tier 1 team, and your Team is Tier 1. You don¡¯t have anyone even approaching Tier 2.¡±


    Striker interceded. ¡°Your records are old. I am a Level 1 Beast Master.¡±


    Everyone at the table turned to stare at her, but it was Naysa Grilla who spoke.


    ¡°You speak the truth. But when you last filed with us, you were a Level 4 Hunter.¡±


    ¡°I was. I went up six levels in one night. I have not been back to adjust my records until now.¡±


    Ressssen turned to Striker. ¡°You did not think this was worth mentioning?¡±


    Striker shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It was so strange. Everything about it was strange.¡±


    ¡°And what beast did you master?¡± asked the functionary.


    ¡°A female kreve pack leader.¡±


    Naysa Grilla did a double take. ¡°A kreve? Are you certain?¡±


    ¡°The entire team witnessed it.¡±


    Naysa leaned back in his chair and blew out his breath. ¡°Wait here, please. This situation is beyond my station. I will leave now and return with someone higher up in the organization. If you have any doubts at all about anything you¡¯re saying, I¡¯d think twice about it.  You can not hide the truth from whoever comes next.¡±


    ¡°We have no desire to hide the truth. We only want a continue what we have sssstarted and play a part in ending the undead threat. Is that sssso hard to understand?¡±


    The functionary stared at Ressssen. ¡°Everything that¡¯s been said since we entered this room is hard to understand. I don¡¯t know the truth of any of this, but if it¡¯s true, it¡¯s world altering. Please wait here, someone will be with you presently.¡±


    And with those words, he stood, bowed briefly and fled the room. Whatever came of this, Naysa Grilla wanted no part of it.

 Chapter 19 - A Bit of Role-Playing

    Chapter 19 ¨C A Bit of Role-Playing


    Twelfth of Learning 1142


    Veloran considered the three exhausted young royals, and the not so exhausted familiar, bemused. He had chosen a small sitting room in the palace for this gathering, as he felt an informal, relaxed setting was what they all needed, himself included. Eric, Dahr and Chari had been given the day off as ¡°requested¡±, but the king had insisted if they were going to use veresh, they would have to talk to the high priest first.


    ¡°So,¡± he began after they were all seated. ¡°You¡¯ve all leveled. I know Eric is Level 5.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯re both Level 4,¡± said Chari.


    ¡°That¡¯s impressive for one night. It¡¯s a lot of power all at once. Did any of you think it might be dangerous to get so many levels at the same time?¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± asked Eric. He still looked drawn and pale, but a bit of food had tempered the look to some degree. It was clear to Veloran that he hadn¡¯t completely recovered from whatever he had experienced.


    ¡°What happens when you level?¡± asked Veloran.


    ¡°You gain skills,¡± said Dahr.


    ¡°That¡¯s true. What else?¡±


    ¡°Skills you already have get more powerful,¡± said Chari, tentatively.


    ¡°That¡¯s all true, but what actually happens? What is leveling?¡±


    They looked at each other.


    ¡°So you¡¯re experimenting on yourselves without understanding the boundaries of what could go wrong?¡±


    He had their attention now. Chari and Dahr looked interested. Eric looked concerned. Kalutu looked¡­like a were-owl. Veloran doubted he¡¯d ever be able to read the familiar¡¯s facial expressions.


    ¡°When you level, the goddess touches you. She infuses you with energy. It¡¯s why you often feel energized after gaining a level. It¡¯s like an extra gift from the goddess. It¡¯s an amazing feeling. It can also overwhelm some people. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all heard stories of people passing out when gaining a level. It¡¯s not common but it happens.¡±


    ¡°My uncle passed out when he hit Level 6. My father never stopped teasing him about it,¡± said Chari.


    ¡°It could happen to anyone. The energy of the gods can be overwhelming. It¡¯s why we receive so few visitations from them. But that¡¯s not the only danger. Let¡¯s use Eric¡¯s Shield Bash skill as an example. It hits hard. At higher levels, you could do some real damage with it. Even now, it¡¯s pretty dangerous. So, why does it not break Eric¡¯s arm, or dislocate his shoulder?¡±


    ¡°Sheba protects him?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°She does more than that. As the skill rises in power, Eric will evolve to be able to deal with it. It¡¯s easier for Sheba to modify Eric than to protect his arm every time he uses a skill. As you level, you evolve. Your muscles grow stronger. Your bones thicken. Even your mind gets stronger. You become faster. Leveling isn¡¯t just about getting skills, it¡¯s about becoming more. When you become Tier 2, you¡¯re more than you were. You¡¯re still human, but you¡¯re also more than human. When you hit Tier 3, you¡¯re even more. Still human, but only barely. You can see further, hear better, run faster. For all practical purposes, it¡¯s like you¡¯re more than human. When you hear tales of great adventurers who are Tier 3 or 4, what you¡¯re hearing is about adventurers who are more than they started out to be. It¡¯s why they can do what they do in those tales.¡±


    They all looked at him, stunned.


    ¡°What level are you then?¡± asked Dahr.


    Eric and Chari both looked at Dahr  in panic, but Veloran laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not really a question you¡¯d ask in polite society, Dahr, but I¡¯ll say this if you promise not to share it with anyone.¡±


    They all nodded, eagerly.


    ¡°I¡¯m Tier 4.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re at least Level 30,¡± whispered Eric, awed.


    ¡°I am. Milady has been good to me.¡±


    ¡°Milady?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard that form of address applied to a goddess before.¡±


    Veloran looked uncomfortable, but only for a second. ¡°Sheba is more than just my goddess. We¡¯ve been together so long, she¡¯s more like¡­a friend.¡±


    Eric¡¯s eyes widened, as if Veloran had said something completely outrageous.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost more like we¡¯re married,¡± said Sheba¡¯s voice.


    They all looked at Veloran astonished, and he dropped his face into his hands. All three of them laughed. They had never seen a high priest blush before.


    Veloran forced himself back on topic. ¡°Enough. We have important things to discuss. When you level, Sheba touches your body, and it becomes stronger. Most people get their first level in the Other Realm, when a god or goddess touches their soul. That first level alters your very soul. But the body itself remains unchanged.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying that if we get all our levels in the Other Realm, our bodies will lag behind?¡± asked Eric, worry clear in his voice.


    ¡°No one really knows, but it¡¯s been theorized, yes. More than that, no one knows what happens if a god repeatedly touches a soul instead of a body, but I¡¯d have to guess that it alters your soul while your physical form remains unchanged. Remember, leveling in the Other Realm is not something that usually happens, except for that first time. You three are pioneers in a sense. I¡¯d say it¡¯s at least a risk...and it¡¯s not the only one.


    ¡°Getting skills is not the same as learning how to use them. We¡¯re taught that getting skills faster without learning how they work, not just alone but together, is often detrimental to the ability to fight. Knowing several skills is not the same as knowing when and how to use those skills. It¡¯s important to practice after you level.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± said Chari. ¡°All these new abilities feel overwhelming.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. If your leveling gets ahead of your experience with combat, it can leave you vulnerable. A good warrior levels and practices. My advice is, don¡¯t use veresh every night. Use it, train for a few days, then use it again. If you have any symptoms from using it, talk to me or if I¡¯m not available for whatever reason, one of the other priests. Don¡¯t just keep going. Getting levels is important, but veresh can be overused and can have severe side effects. Also, Eric, I understand you take medicine?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t last night.¡±


    ¡°Good. You shouldn¡¯t mix medications or alcohol with veresh.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± said Eric.


    Chari looked worried. ¡°Eric, when you stop taking meds, how long before your nightmares begin?¡±


    Eric smiled, sardonically. ¡°If what happened to me last night in the Other Realm happens every time I go in, it¡¯s not going to matter.¡±


    ¡°And what, exactly, was that,¡± she asked.


    Eric shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not ready to talk about it.¡±


    Chari looked dissatisfied, but before she could say anything else, Dahr changed the subject.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised more people don¡¯t use veresh to level.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because veresh doesn¡¯t help you level, and people have tried.  Whatever happened to you three last night, it¡¯s not normal, though why I should expect normal from you lot I can¡¯t imagine. Still, I don¡¯t know that you can expect a repeat of what happened last night whether you return to the Other Realm or not. Training is as important as leveling, even if it is good you got some levels out of it.¡±


    Veloran paused briefly, as if he were considering something, then spoke. ¡°The Other Realm. What was it like?¡±


    ¡°Surely you¡¯ve been there,¡± said Dahr. ¡°Don¡¯t you know?¡±


    ¡°I know what a tiny part of it is like, but the Other Realm is bigger than the world. No mortal could see it all. Even if you were able to spend all your time there, it would take you thousands of lifetimes to explore even a fraction of it.¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°Where I went yesterday was nothing like where I went the first time, and neither of those places were the same as the place Chari and I experienced together.  They were all substantially different.¡±


    ¡°So to repeat the question, what was it like?¡± asked Veloran.


    ¡°We fought a lot of zombies,¡± said Dahr. ¡°A LOT of zombies.¡±


    ¡°Are the gods training you to fight undead?¡± asked Veloran.


    The idea had occurred to all of them, but none of them had said it aloud.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Eric. ¡°Probably, even. But we can¡¯t know for sure and shouldn¡¯t assume. That¡¯s one thing that Maynor tries to instill into me. Not to make assumptions. He says assumptions will kill you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a valid position,¡± said Veloran. ¡°So, no one wants to describe what you went through in more detail?¡±


    Eric shook his head, but it was Dahr who answered. ¡°The place where we were didn¡¯t make any sense. It would be pretty hard to describe. Nothing was permanent. Nothing fit with reality as we understand it. I could spend the rest of the day describing it, and you still wouldn¡¯t have even an inkling of what it was like to be there.¡±


    Veloran looked disappointed, but he stood up and found a smile for them. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll let you all get back to your rest day, just remember to be careful with the veresh.¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± promised Eric.


    *


    Running the Adventurer''s Guild in Pelaro had always been an important position. Officially, the title was guild master, and many women preferred that title, but Aranya Freesh wasn¡¯t one of them. She made it clear she was to be called guild mistress, even though the current trend was for both genders to use the same title.


    The word master had certain connotations to Aranya from her past that she wasn¡¯t comfortable with, and so she chose her own moniker, and if people weren¡¯t comfortable with it, she was absolutely okay with them not speaking with her.


    As guild mistress, Aranya Freesh sometimes had to make decisions with potentially serious consequences. The current situation was the kind of thing that could have repercussions that lasted years, even decades if she wasn¡¯t careful. As she strode down the corridors of the guild building, she felt old, which isn¡¯t to say she looked old.


    She looked about thirty-five with stunning black hair, and an attractive face that would have looked more appealing if it didn¡¯t look ready to bite anyone who came near her. She was a strict, no-nonsense guild mistress, who didn¡¯t waste time or energy. The current situation sounded like a waste of both, but if there was even a chance this was on the level, she had to deal with it herself.


    Beside her walked a man she considered indispensable. His name was Jesh Belor, a tall, bald man, who wore a neatly trimmed brown mustache, and was as affable as she was hard. He was a powerful mage, who dressed as flamboyantly as Aranya did conservatively. She wore trousers, a shirt and vest, all in various shades of gray, while he was garbed in flowing multi-colored robes, calling far more attention to himself than he needed to. Jesh Belor looked and spoke like the kind of person you hired to entertain children at a party, not a man who specialized in interrogation techniques. Nor did he ever lower himself to a method as crude as torture. More of a lock pick than a hammer, his finesse would often uncover lies or half-truths that would have remained otherwise hidden.


    Neither of them brought up their private thoughts in the open halls of the guild building. Such matters were reserved for secure rooms. If this was real, if¡­ Aranya shook her head. She hadn¡¯t often heard a claim more outlandish.


    She stopped at a room, opened the door, and entered. In the small office, three people sat behind three cluttered desks handling some of the bureaucratic mess that accompanied the running of any large organization. Aranya walked up to a giant of a man, who looked every bit the warrior from his braided black beard to his fine chain mail armor and the huge sword leaning against the desk beside him. Aranya placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned close and said one word.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Follow.¡±


    Without an instant of hesitation the man stood up, grabbed his sword belt and followed the guild mistress from the room. The three of them walked down one flight of stairs and stopped at the door of the secure room. There, for just a moment, Aranya paused. Anyone who didn¡¯t know her would have thought she was gathering her nerve, but she wasn¡¯t. She was blanking her mind before entering, so that she could get a more or less unbiased first opinion of the people inside. When she entered, she stood by the door taking them in, observing their reactions to her entrance, which she knew would intimidate a lot of people. This group, however, didn¡¯t seem intimidated. The serpent lord wasn¡¯t, nor were either of the humans, the easiest to read of the lot. She had no way of knowing if the phase shifter was intimidated or not, but the salad looked relaxed and expectant. It was pretty obvious from their gear that they were a Tier 1 team. She didn¡¯t waste more time. She had seen what she needed to. She walked quickly to the head of the table. At once, the group of adventurers and their guest sat up straighter.


    Aranya didn¡¯t sit. She asked for Ressssen to repeat the story, and then asked Striker and Merck to tell theirs. The entire time, Gordic and Jesh stood silently behind her. Even without using a single skill, just having them there for the intimidation factor was worth it, though she valued their input. When the story was told, she pointed to Striker.


    ¡°You have a pet Kreve?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Go with Gordic, then. To the city gate. Summon it. Show him.¡±


    Striker shrugged and stood. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    She confidently strode out the door. The armored man followed her a moment later.


    Then Aranya spent some time verifying details, or thinking of questions she hadn¡¯t asked before, but she didn¡¯t glean much more information. She learned how Merck Vanderoth had swindled the adventurers one night, while they were drunk in a tavern. The incident didn¡¯t fill her with confidence. In her mind it was a strike against them. She learned how they found the merchant and followed him. She learned that he¡¯d changed classes...lost one class, but gained another. This could happen during progression, when a person went through a class transition,  trading their old class for a new one, though the god or goddess providing the class never changed, nor were any skills previously attained lost in the process.


    Striker had become a Beast Master when she had been a Hunter, both of which were associated with Sheba. But that was only an indication of progression, not what Merck Vanderoth had experienced. Striker had lost no skills in the process. Her skill with the bow would be undiminished. And what about her gaining six levels at the same time? Unheard of. She was a Tier 2 adventurer now. If she was good enough for Sheba, how could she not be good enough for Aranya?


    In truth, there was only one decision to make. If there was a chance they were telling the truth, she had to act on it. Was there some angle she was missing? Some scam involved? Something they were trying to accomplish that required the aid of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild? Assassination? That made no sense. They were a Tier 2 guild, and that only in name until she did the paperwork. They had one Tier 2 adventurer. This isn¡¯t the team of assassins any sane person would send.


    Could they be trying to sneak into a noble¡¯s home to steal something? Again, it was highly unlikely. Not only the level of the team, but the complexity of the plan. Too much could go wrong. And she trusted Jesh to tell her if anyone had been lying. He¡¯d read their levels. He¡¯d checked their statements. If he said they were telling the truth, they at least believed it.  There was nothing she could think of to explain anything about this insane situation more than the truth. Which meant there was a chance, however unlikely, that this Merck Vanderoth could end the undead threat. Take the fight back to the Plains of Xarinos. For the first time, there was hope in her heart. Real hope. And though she knew that emotion was a terrible place to make decisions from, she allowed herself that luxury in this case, because there really wasn¡¯t any decision to make here. She could think of no reason not to help Merck Vanderoth.


    Her biggest decision wasn¡¯t whether or not to act, but whether or not to give this sort of responsibility to such a low level team. On one hand, it would protect the Priest by attaching less significance to the matter. On the other hand, it wouldn¡¯t do much to protect the Priest should someone become interested in what he was doing. It was hardly likely they could keep it a secret for long. Once the nobles knew what he was looking for¡­ or did they have to? What if they went in undercover without telling the nobles about the possible ramifications of their visit. Was this team up to it? Probably not. She¡¯d need specialists for that.


    There was a knock on the door. Annoyed, she gestured for Jesh to answer it. The bald man crossed the room, opened the door, looked surprised and pulled the door open for someone to enter. The new figure was a tall blonde woman, older in years, but no less beautiful because of it. She dressed in dark blue mage robes that seemed to flow around her like water if you stared at her long enough. She wore her age like a crown, and the moment she entered, Aranya stood. The others followed her example.


    ¡°Please sit. I¡¯m not royalty. There¡¯s no need to fuss over me.¡±


    They all sat. Aranya spoke.


    ¡°To what do we owe the honor of this visit, High Priestess.¡±


    ¡°You have doubts. Have none. This is the group that must accompany the Priest. Their tidings are real. There is nothing untoward going on here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that this Striker gained six levels in one night?¡±


    The high priestess inclined her head as if listening. ¡°She did. My goddess wishes you to know that this endeavor has her blessing. There is much I don¡¯t know, but I do know this. You will make many decisions in your years as guild mistress, but none will have the lasting impact of what you decide here today.¡±


    Aranya bowed her head. There were days she regretted taking this posting, but this was not one of them. Seldom had she been shown an actual sign she was doing the right thing.


    ¡°Thank you, High Priestess Sara. The advice of your goddess is timely. We will do her bidding.¡±


    ¡°May the blessings of Iorana be with you all.¡±


    And then she was gone. She didn¡¯t walk out, she just vanished as if she¡¯d never been there. Before they could close the door, Gordic and Striker returned.


    ¡°That was fast,¡± said Aranya.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t have to summon it, the kreve was waiting for us outside the gates at the edge of the clearing. Just out of range of the bows. It¡¯s like it knew where to stand.¡±


    ¡°Of course she did,¡± said Striker. ¡°I told her where to wait for us as soon as you asked me to call her.¡±


    ¡°No Level 1 Beast Master could do that,¡± said Aranya.


    Gordic nodded agreement.


    Could this day get any stranger? What was it about this team? It seemed as if Sheba favored Striker, and the high priestess of Iorana had gone out of her way to give her blessing to this endeavor. They were, next to Sylinar, the two oldest goddesses. That the two of them both seemed to favor this team was a fact no guild master could ignore.


    ¡°Very well, I will approve a contract for the Misfits of Karmenon. You will protect Merck Vanderoth and help him find the boy for whom he searches. You will have the full support of the guild system. I¡¯ll have a contract drawn up as soon as I leave here. The contract will be under seal. What we won¡¯t do is tell the nobles what we¡¯re looking for.¡±


    Ressssen looked confused. ¡°Then why would they agree to meet with us?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to create a fiction the nobles won¡¯t be able to resist. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll get to meet with all the nobles you can handle and then some. She turned her attention to Striker. ¡°How would you feel about a bit of role-playing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re my type,¡± replied Striker, letting a hint of amusement slip into her voice.


    *


    Dahr, Chari, Eric and Kalutu sat in the same small salon where they¡¯d taken their dinner the night before. Everything seemed so different now. The tensions and fears of the day before had been replaced by exhaustion, and in the case of two of them, exhilaration. Eric was still too quiet, and not his usual self. Kalutu however, seemed unchangeable. It was a comfort to Dahr that he could depend on Kalutu to behave as expected. Because right now, Chari was being an idiot.


    ¡°I know what Veloran said, but we should go back in anyway,¡± she was saying. ¡°Even if we don¡¯t level, I¡¯d rather train fighting creatures than practice with fake swords.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°You heard what Veloran said. Our bodies might not be evolving if we keep leveling there. We need our bodies to evolve so we don¡¯t damage ourselves using our skills.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think Sheba would give you a level if it left you vulnerable, because I don¡¯t.¡± argued Chari. ¡°You¡¯re practically her adopted son, Eric. She¡¯s not going to let you get hurt. Honestly, I think you¡¯d trust her more.¡±


    Dahr laughed. ¡°If you¡¯re her son, that makes Veloran your father.¡±


    Eric shook his head, Chari leaned forward and flicked Dahr on the nose.


    ¡°Hey!¡± said Dahr.


    ¡°I do trust Sheba,¡± said Eric. ¡°But I also trust Veloran. And it¡¯s not the only reason he gave. He said we need training to make the levels we get mean something. And that makes sense to me.¡±


    ¡°Eric is right,¡± said Dahr. ¡°We should be thankful we have the running start we have and focus on how to apply it to real life situations.¡±


    ¡°Do you really not want to level faster?¡± asked Chari.


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°I want to do whatever it is that will help me survive. If that¡¯s leveling fine, but I¡¯m not convinced. It¡¯s sort of like the Book of Lost Wisdom.¡±


    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Kalutu, ever eager to learn.


    ¡°My mother used to tell me stories about it when I was young. Those stories were my favorites. I used to think it was a real book but I don¡¯t anymore. I think it¡¯s a story about greed.  People would hear of this book, which is supposed to contain all the wisdom in the world, and they¡¯d go and follow rumors into dangerous situations to find it, which they never do, because it doesn¡¯t exist. Wisdom doesn¡¯t come from books. It comes from the world around you. Your ability to deal with the events in your life and somehow remain true to yourself. We want more and more and more, even if we don¡¯t need it. We keep pushing harder and harder to get more gold, more power, more levels. What we need is the wisdom to use the power we have. Just getting more powerful without that wisdom is a trap. I think that¡¯s what my mother was trying to teach me.¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯m being greedy?¡± asked Chari, the edge of anger creeping into her voice.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s tempting for all of us. But we need to work on all of it, not just leveling. Veloran thought so and he¡¯s more experienced than we are.¡±


    Chari shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s true, but he¡¯s never faced our situation. We¡¯re heading into unknown danger probably under-leveled. Sometimes, power is the answer.¡±


    Eric held up a hand and both Dahr and Chari stopped arguing, not because Eric was the leader of the group, but more because they were both concerned about him, and it seemed that till now he had little interest in contributing, which made the gesture a good sign.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what. Let¡¯s go with Chari¡¯s idea for one more night. We¡¯ll go in tonight and see what transpires. If it¡¯s the same as last night, if we get levels, we¡¯ll stop going in and train until we feel we can use the skills we have effectively. If we don¡¯t level, we still might get some training. I still think we need instruction right now, but it¡¯s a single night. If we learn something, it won¡¯t be wasted.¡±


    Chari nodded her agreement, and reluctantly Dahr agreed as well. But he couldn¡¯t get the Book of Lost Wisdom out of his head.


    *


    While Aranya was finalizing her plans with the Misfits of Karmenon, Gordic was talking to an old team member of his, who¡¯d left to join a higher profile team. Bevin was a very good archer with a very bad gambling problem. As such, he¡¯d often find creative ways to supplement the money he made from adventuring. One of those ways was to provide information, mostly rumors, to interested parties.


    ¡°I have a bit of news for you,¡± Gordic said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much it¡¯ll interest you, but you know, I hear things from time to time.¡±


    ¡°Sure, you work for Aranya Freesh.¡±


    ¡°So get this, there¡¯s a new team in town, the Misfits of Karmenon. Very low level. No one would look at them twice, but I¡¯ve heard that one of the members is a princess.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s odd. Why would a royal be traipsing around with a low level group?¡±


    ¡°No idea. I know Aranya met with them when they first got into town. She¡¯s playing this close to her chest. She¡¯s confided in no one. But it¡¯s important. And that team had some real success in recent weeks too.¡±


    ¡°Wait, a low level team is actively adventuring with a royal on it? That¡¯s nuts.¡±


    ¡°I know. More crazy than that, one member of that team gained six levels in one night.¡±


    ¡°Six levels!¡±


    Gordic looked panicked and glanced around nervously. ¡°Easy. I¡¯m not even supposed to be telling you this, but I owe you. Anyway she not only gained six levels, but she progressed to a tier 2 class¨C Beast Master.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just not possible. But if it¡¯s true¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh it¡¯s true. She tamed a kreve. Saw it myself, the thing is huge.¡±


    ¡°A flippin¡¯ kreve? That¡¯s crazy. I bet some nobles would be interested in this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. Call it ten percent?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°I have to get back before I¡¯m missed. Good luck.¡±


    Gordic left his old friend behind and made for another. He had a lot of rumors to spread before he returned to the guild building.


    *


    Jesh Belor, well known as the right hand of Aranya Freesh, stood at the foot of the wall just outside the open city gate. A young woman stood beside him. They spoke in whispers, heads close together so no one could eavesdrop, after which he approached one of the gate guards.


    ¡°In a few minutes, you¡¯re going to see a large kreve running for the gate. The first person to shoot it gets thrown off the wall by me. Spread the word.¡±


    The guard looked surprised, but did as instructed and five minutes later, Jesh instructed Striker to call her pet. Outwardly it didn¡¯t seem like she was doing anything. The gate guards watched on with interest.


    A few moments later, a large kreve, black and deadly, charged across the cleared area heading right for the gate. Jesh kept an eye on the archers on the walls, at least the ones he could see, but they all maintained discipline, not that he thought they wouldn¡¯t.


    The kreve bounded up to Striker and sat, looking up at her expectantly. To most people, kreve were monsters, not animals, what with their size and all those extra teeth. Seeing this young woman pet it and lean close to talk to it, astonished those close enough to see.


    ¡°Are you sure you can control it, your highn...Trace?¡±


    Striker looked annoyed at him. She then glanced nervously at the guard, but quickly looked away. ¡°Of course I can control it. I¡¯ve told you already. You want proof, bring in one of the guards.¡±


    The guards all managed to step back, but Jesh pointed at one of them anyway. ¡°Get over here.¡±


    The guard stepped forward, nervously.


    ¡°Stalker, be nice,¡± said Striker, then she turned to the guard. ¡°Pet her.¡±


    ¡°Pet her?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you know, with your hand. Do you not have dogs in this forsaken city?¡±


    ¡°Of course we have dogs.¡±


    ¡°Then pet her.¡±


    With no small amount of trepidation, the guard walked to the kreve, who stood silently, looking at him suspiciously. He raised a hand and the kreve¡¯s eyes followed it, but it didn¡¯t react at all when he touched it gingerly on its head.


    Jesh nodded appreciatively. "That''s quite a trick. Okay. I¡¯m going to sign a license for you to take your pet into the city.¡±


    ¡°As well you should. I wouldn¡¯t want to have to send a message spell to my father.¡±


    ¡°No one wants that, believe me,¡± said Jesh. ¡°I was instructed by the guild mistress to provide you with everything you require.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Striker dismissively. He felt like she was really enjoying her role. ¡°I¡¯ll need food for her of course, unless you¡¯re volunteering some of your guards.¡±


    The guard stepped away quickly. Striker chuckled, and Jesh had to work really hard not to.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go handle that now. We wouldn¡¯t want any accidents.¡±


    The two of them retreated back to the city. Stalker walked beside Striker, keeping an eye out for anything that might threaten her.


    They didn¡¯t speak again until they were back in the guild building. This time, she entered with her pet and the adventurers on the first level reacted as if they were being invaded, but Jesh warned them off.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay everyone. Trace here is cleared to have this pet with her in the city, as per Aranya Freesh. I would strongly suggest that you treat her and her pet with the respect to which they are entitled.¡±


    Around them, adventurers looked puzzled, curious, suspicious or, in the case of just a few, smug, as if they knew something the others didn¡¯t.


    Jesh and Striker ignored them all. Without waiting for an invitation, Striker went upstairs, heading for the shielded room where the rest of the Misfits awaited her return.


    Inside the room, Aranya looked at Jesh.


    ¡°How did it go?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s brilliant. They bought it. The rumors will be everywhere in a day or two. And Striker walking around with a giant kreve in the streets will fuel it nicely. I must say, you¡¯re a natural at undercover work,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had a lot of practice.¡±


    Several members of her team looked puzzled at Striker¡¯s reply, and Jesh filed the information away for later use. They were putting a lot of trust into a very young team. Learning everything he could about them would be time well spent.

 Chapter 20 - The Other Other Realm Revisited

    Twelfth of Learning 1142


    They didn¡¯t train during the day. They wanted to be mentally rested for whatever happened that night, and Eric was clearly not himself. Chari had been angry at Dahr¡¯s resistance to her plan, but had been mollified by Eric giving it a chance. She knew she was being contrary, but leveling was amazing, and it was too tempting not to try it again, at least just this once.


    If they leveled, she¡¯d be happy to turn her energy to training. If they didn¡¯t level, they might at least get to fight undead again. It wasn¡¯t like practicing in the yard, because you never felt safe in the Other Realm. It felt dark and dangerous¨C like you could actually get injured or even die. The fear, the need to rise to the occasion, had been exhilarating. It had driven her to a higher level, not just literally but figuratively.  With the potential for real consequences, she fought harder. She put more into it. Chari was aware she was at least adequate in the training yard, but on some level, she knew it was training. She understood it was necessary. What it wasn¡¯t was engaging. But fighting the undead? That she wouldn¡¯t mind trying even in real life. And if veresh was a danger she had to brave to get that feeling back, she was willing to risk it.


    And in truth, despite what Veloran had told them, Chari didn¡¯t believe they had been in danger. Not from the undead in the Other Realm and not from veresh. The gods wanted something from them, and they weren¡¯t going to let them die in training. Veloran might have thought that leveling quickly was dangerous, but where did levels come from? Did he know more than Sheba, because she was the one who had given at least Eric and her those levels in the first place. Surely she wouldn¡¯t have done that if they couldn¡¯t handle it. Sheba would protect them at the very least until she got what she needed from them. After that was anyone¡¯s guess.


    Chari wasn¡¯t like Dahr and Eric. She didn¡¯t blindly believe that Sheba wanted what was best for them. The goddess had an agenda. Chari loved what Sheba stood for, but she blindly trusted nobody, and that included the goddess of honor. What was she after? What danger was coming for them? Why them? She was certain it had to do with the princes. Whatever was coming, she wasn¡¯t the target. She was just an ordinary princess, if such a thing could be said about any princess.  But Eric and Dahr weren¡¯t ordinary. Two half-brothers with different unique classes that no one had ever heard of. One of them without fixed skills, the other with two holy weapons, both favored by Sheba. What madness was she marrying into?


    It didn¡¯t matter, because it was a madness she had chosen of her own volition. She had chosen Eric before Sheba had said they should marry. She had chosen Eric above all others, because she knew he was good and honorable, or Sheba would not favor him. And she knew he would try to protect her, because she¡¯d seen him do it more than once during her transition. Not that she needed his protection. That she¡¯d have to teach him over time. Just as he was a devotee of Sheba, so was she. And she could fight her own battles. She had a feeling that might be the hardest obstacle she had ahead of her. She needed to fight her own battles.


    The day passed slowly, with Eric saying little and Dahr talking nonsense as he often did. Kalutu only spoke when someone asked him something. Meals were eaten in relative silence. They really needed this time off. She wished Eric would talk to her about what had happened in the Other Realm, but she had to trust him. He¡¯d speak when he was ready. Which better be soon, or she¡¯d kick him.


    What could have so put him off? Why had his experience differed so much from her and Dahr¡¯s? The frustration of not knowing, and her concern for Eric, was taking a toll on her focus. Well, that and fatigue.


    It seemed like night would never come, but it did eventually, and then they were all back in the anteroom of the princes¡¯ quarters. Everyone took the same position as the night before, but Eric procrastinated, taking longer to get ready than was strictly necessary. She was sure Dahr noticed as well, but neither of them mentioned it.


    Dahr distributed potions and downed his. Chari followed suit, but Eric just stared at his as if it were a poisonous snake.


    ¡°You going to drink that?¡± she teased.


    ¡°I was thinking about bathing in it,¡± he quipped halfheartedly, then he downed it and lay down without looking at either of them.


    They all lay back and closed their eyes. They didn¡¯t find sleep, but rather embarked on a soul journey. There would be no turning over, no restlessness, no being disturbed by loud noises. Their souls sojourned in another existence, while their bodies remained motionless, doing the minimum required to stay alive.


    As before, Dahr and Chari ended up together. It was the same place as last time, or a very similar place at least. With everything constantly changing, it was hard to tell.


    They waited for a while and, when nothing happened, started walking, this time Chari taking the lead. There seemed to be no animal life at all. A few trees. Some rocks. Everything changed, as before, growing and shrinking, pulsing, shifting colors, strange sounds and scents on the breeze that changed direction constantly, but nothing else.


    At first she was tense, but nothing attacked. By the end of the first hour, she was bored. They hadn¡¯t spoken much, both expecting an attack that had never materialized.


    ¡°I guess we should take this time to get to know each other better. After all, you¡¯re going to be my brother-in-law.¡±


    ¡°I am?¡±


    ¡°Sure, when I marry Eric.¡±


    ¡°Do you love him?¡±


    She smiled. ¡°Not yet. It¡¯s too new, Dahr. Love, real love takes time. But I think I could come to love him, and that¡¯s all you can really ask with an arranged marriage. I believe he¡¯s a good man, and that¡¯s a good start.¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°I guess I won¡¯t be marrying a princess, being a bastard and all.¡±


    Chari thought about it for a moment. ¡°Maybe, maybe not. I think you¡¯ll be lucky if you get to choose who you marry though.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°Probably too early to talk about it. I¡¯m only fourteen.¡±


    ¡°But you have transitioned, and that¡¯s all that it takes. If your father finds a profitable match for you, you could be married tomorrow.¡±


    Dahr glanced at her sharply to see if she was teasing him, but she looked serious. When he saw she wasn¡¯t, he dropped his gaze to the ground. She could barely hear him over the various noises that surrounded them.


    ¡°I still have so much to learn.¡±


    She chuckled. ¡°We all have a lot to learn, Dahr. Being two years older won¡¯t cure you of that. And you know, when you¡¯re old, like thirty or something, you¡¯ll still be learning. It¡¯s like that story your mother used to tell you. What was it...the Book of Lost Wisdom? The search for knowledge never ends.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Dahr. ¡°My mom was pretty wise for a commoner, huh?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think being noble makes you any wiser than anyone else,¡± said Chari. ¡°I mean, look at my dad.¡±


    They both laughed and then went silent, each lost in their own thoughts. But nothing attacked them, and nothing changed about the area around them that wasn¡¯t already in the process of constantly changing. It seemed the gods had decided that training was what they needed after all. Chari never liked being wrong, but she had been, and she would have to live with it. Though she wasn¡¯t happy that her decision had wasted time that could have been spent more productively.


    *


    Eric tried to open his eyes but couldn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t see, but he could hear. He wasn¡¯t where he had been yesterday, that much was obvious. He was elsewhere...but where? Another part of the Other Realm, maybe?


    Eric heard a sound that he didn¡¯t recognize yet could name nonetheless. A low beeping, regular and monotonous kept him grounded in the darkness. There were hushed voices in the distance. He wasn¡¯t alone. He tried to move but couldn¡¯t. He could barely feel his body at all. People moved back and forth, but he couldn¡¯t make out anything anyone was saying.  Then a closer voice, a woman¡¯s voice, spoke.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Danny. I¡¯m going to read to you now, if that¡¯s okay.¡±


    No one replied to the voice. It started reading what sounded very much like a children¡¯s story. As soon as he realized it, Eric stopped paying attention. Instead, he was straining to move. Trying to force his eyes open. The voice stopped reading.


    ¡°Danny?¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked another voice, also a woman.


    ¡°I thought he opened his eyes for a second.¡±


    There was a pause, and he heard someone move closer. ¡°It can happen. It doesn¡¯t mean anything. You can¡¯t get your hopes up.¡±


    ¡°Danny, can you hear me?¡± asked the first voice. ¡°Danny?¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Bradsworth. He¡¯s been in a coma for over two years now. You know that. The odds of him coming out of it at this point are¡­¡±


    The second voice cut her off. ¡°I know what you¡¯re going to say, Suzanna. But I can¡¯t abandon my son. I won¡¯t. He¡¯ll come back to us, I know he will.¡±


    The second woman didn¡¯t answer, but he felt something move over his body as if someone was adjusting a duvet. The first woman, Mrs. Bradsworth, started reading again.


    His consciousness faded and when he woke, he was back in the anteroom. Dahr and Chari were still out. Kalutu came over to him.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± asked Kalutu.


    Eric shook his head. ¡°Not really. I had one of those nightmares again. It was so strange. I have to start taking my medicine. It was so real, like I really was somewhere else.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Like the Other Realm?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Maybe...another world?¡±


    ¡°It seems unlikely,¡± said Kalutu doubtfully. ¡°I mean how could you dream about a world you¡¯ve never been to?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± said Prince Eric. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure I haven¡¯t been there before. There was something familiar about it. There was a woman, her name was Mrs. Bradsworth, and another named Suzanna. Somehow, I know those names. I don¡¯t know how, but I know them."


    ¡°Curious,¡± replied the familiar. ¡°Perhaps we should ask one of your tutors to see if they can help you figure it out.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe. Kalutu...what if my dreams weren¡¯t dreams at all?¡±


    ¡°What else would they be?¡±


    Eric shrugged. What else indeed?


    *


    Thirteenth of Learning 1142


    When Dahr and Chari awakened, Eric told them about his nightmare. He didn¡¯t mention that it was related to the nightmares he used to have, because it didn¡¯t mean anything. Not yet¨C maybe not ever. He didn¡¯t know anything for certain, and everyone had studies to focus on. He felt the burden of doubt and mystery on his shoulders and didn¡¯t think it fair for anyone else to carry that load. He was even sorry he¡¯d mentioned it to Kalutu, though it didn¡¯t seem to affect the were-owl.


    Eric tried desperately to remember his old dreams, but the combination of time and medication had driven most of those memories out of his mind. But he was absolutely certain that Mrs. Bradsworth and Suzanna had been in them. Not when he¡¯d been lying in a bed, unable to see or move. He felt like he should have been able to picture them and felt guilty for not being able to, like an orphan who could no longer remember what his parents looked like.


    Ridiculous, of course. Eric knew who his parents were. Which didn¡¯t stop him from feeling a strong connection to Mrs. Bradsworth and especially to Suzanna, who had sung to him and read to him and played games with him¡­no, that wasn¡¯t right. He remembered his childhood and had never met anyone named Suzanna, nor ever heard the name before. And yet, a part of his mind almost remembered another life, another time when he had known her. He had no idea how that was possible, but decided he absolutely wouldn¡¯t share that with anyone else until he understood more. If nothing else, he didn¡¯t want people to worry about him.


    The nature of Eric¡¯s thoughts were so intense, and he was so focused on them that he started at a sharp rap on the door. Chari and Dahr hadn¡¯t noticed his reaction, but Kalutu had. Eric placed a hand over his mouth, hoping Kalutu understood what that meant. Dahr walked to the door and opened it. Maynor stepped into the room. If he disapproved of Chari being there alone with the boys, you couldn¡¯t tell from his expression, and he didn¡¯t say anything about it.


    ¡°So, you¡¯ve all leveled. It¡¯s time to move to the next stage of your training then. Not that you couldn¡¯t benefit from more of the basics, but I¡¯ve been informed we don¡¯t have the time. I have to say I¡¯m not comfortable with this accelerated schedule, but my comfort isn¡¯t of particular concern to King Terrence. I hope you¡¯re all awake and ready to go, because we¡¯re doing something different today.¡±


    Maynor didn¡¯t wait for a response but turned and left the room. Eric, Chari and Dahr stared at each other before hurrying to catch up. It was immediately obvious that Maynor wasn¡¯t taking them to the practice yard. Instead he brought them to a small salon, with a table and chairs, but instead of food and drink as they would normally have available when Leata was teaching them, there were paper, quills and ink pots in their place. Maynor waited until they were seated to begin.


    ¡°You have a variety of skills now. But the skills you¡¯ll be using in combat today aren¡¯t the same as the ones you used in the Other Realm. They¡¯ll be different. Does anyone know why?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re practice skills,¡± said Chari quickly, happy to get the jump on the boys for once.


    ¡°Practice skills?¡± asked Eric. Though he looked to Maynor, it was Chari who answered him.


    ¡°Sure. I mean all skills come from the power of the gods. The gods give you those skills to help you in dangerous situations. Shield Bash is pretty powerful. Do you really want to be using that at full strength while you¡¯re training?¡±


    ¡°Wait, are you saying the gods know we¡¯re training so they give us weaker versions of our skills to use?


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why have I never heard about this before?¡±


    Maynor took over. ¡°Because until recently, you haven¡¯t had enough skills to use them in training, and because you were learning the basics and didn¡¯t need to know it. There was no need to tell you, because Sheba wouldn¡¯t let you hurt anyone, even if you did use your skills.¡±


    Maynor turned his attention to Dahr. ¡°You¡¯re going to be the hardest to train, because I don¡¯t know any of your skills.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in good company,¡± muttered Eric, under his breath. Maynor ignored him and continued to look at Dahr expectantly.


    ¡°With all due respect, Maynor, you¡¯re not capable of training me. My class¡­¡± Dahr didn¡¯t know what he could or couldn¡¯t say, but he remembered George talking about people being smart enough to figure things out. ¡°I think I might just watch today.¡±


    Maynor shook his head. ¡°Dahr, you have to train, even if you just practice blocking or dodging.¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°That I can do. But I won¡¯t be using skills.¡±


    Maynor regarded him unhappily but nodded. ¡°So what I need now from Princess Chari and Prince Eric is a list of your skills, so we can have a strategy session. We¡¯ll see what you know about each of your skills, and add in what I know about them. Then we¡¯ll do some brainstorming and see how they can work together.¡±


    ¡°That sounds fun,¡± said Chari.


    Maynor shrugged. ¡°Some people find it fun, but make no mistake. It¡¯s hard work. Whatever we learn or figure out today won¡¯t be useful long term. It¡¯s just a first step. Good teams work with each other, constantly modifying what they do together, increasing their synergy. The way they work together. They find new ways to use their skills that they may have never considered. Sometimes a group will get a new member, and suddenly they have to integrate all those new skills into their existing strategies. The higher the level, the harder it gets, because there are more skills to deal with.¡±


    ¡°Can you give us an example?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Sure. We¡¯ll start simple. Imagine a skill that creates a pit trap. You could create a trap with spikes in it or poison right under your enemy. The trap opens, they fall in and suffer whatever secondary effect that trap springs on them, in addition to the expected damage from the fall. That¡¯s the skill working as intended. But what if another member of your team had a skill that pushed foes back. Then instead of creating that trap under the enemies just in front of you, you¡¯d want to create that trap under the enemies behind them, so your team mate could push them back into it, and your trap becomes twice as valuable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s awesome!¡± said Dahr.


    Maynor smiled. ¡°It is. Still want to watch from the sidelines?¡±


    Dahr grew serious. ¡°Do you think I like being left out of this, Maynor? Do you think I¡¯m not aching to tell everyone about my new class? George gave me strict instructions to keep certain secrets and gave me at least some reason why it was important I do so. It doesn¡¯t have anything to do with what I want. What I want is not to be involved in this upcoming danger at all, but no one asked my opinion on the matter. The reality is that I¡¯m a mostly untrained fourteen year old with very little experience, about to enter a dangerous situation that I¡¯m not likely to be able to avoid and might not survive. Following my god¡¯s will is maybe, just maybe, the only way I get through to the other side of this with my skin intact.¡±


    Maynor stood stunned. He had thought of Dahr as just a boy. Prince Eric¡¯s young servant. He was too young to have gone through his transition, but he had in fact transitioned. This wasn¡¯t the outburst of a child.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, My Prince. I meant no disrespect.¡±


    ¡°I know. It must be hard for you, seeing us change so fast from what we were¡­ but we are changing. And you¡¯d do well to remember that.¡±


    Maynor gave him a long, considered look, before nodding and moving on with the lesson.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get some skills down and see if we can¡¯t get some sort of strategy on paper. Then we¡¯ll test the strategy and see if we can¡¯t improve it. This is what adventuring teams do, and even though adventuring teams are different from squads of soldiers, the logic behind how they formulate strategy is largely the same, with one difference. Soldiers tend to move between battalions a lot and so their tactics aren¡¯t designed around individual skills so much as replaceable roles that anyone could learn or pick up, skill or no skill. But they still work together to figure out strategies that work. If someone leaves they¡¯re easy to replace, because the individual skills matter less. It¡¯s why the Soldier class tends to get skills from a fairly small pool.


    ¡°There are three types of skills. Passive skills where you don¡¯t have to act at all, skills that are good in almost any situation, and skills that are good in only very specific circumstances. Take your shield bash skill, Eric. You wouldn¡¯t use that all the time. Can you tell me why?¡±


    ¡°Because if I knock something away from me, then I can¡¯t reach it with my sword.¡±


    ¡°Precisely. Good. So let¡¯s get those skills on paper.¡±


    Dahr sat up straight. ¡°Maynor, may I be excused. I have something to do.¡±


    Maynor looked frustrated. ¡°Would it matter if I said no?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± said Dahr, a bit sheepishly.


    ¡°How long will you be?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But my god requires my attention elsewhere.¡±


    Maynor shook his head, but his words betrayed the gesture. ¡°Fine. Off with you. But get back here as soon as you can.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    After Dahr left, Maynor looked at Eric. ¡°Do you have any idea what that was about?¡±


    Eric shrugged. ¡°George works in mysterious ways.¡±


    Chari giggled. Maynor shot her an annoyed look.


    ¡°Well, we still have work to do. Chari, you start. I know about the skills you got during your transition; Amazing Strength, Frenetic Defense and Puncture. How familiar are you with these skills? Have you used them?¡±


    Chari thought for a moment before responding. ¡°I¡¯ve used them all, Puncture and Amazing Strength more than Frenetic Defense, though.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense because you fight more offensively. It might not hurt to work Frenetic Defense into your routine. Tell me what your skills do."


    ¡°Amazing Strength is pretty much what it says it is. It has a bit of a long recharge time, so I tend to reserve it for critical moments in the fight. Puncture allows me to pierce armor or thick shell with a thrust of my sword. Frenetic defense is for fast blocking.¡±


    ¡°Good. Can you think of anything else to do with puncture?¡±


    Chari¡¯s forehead wrinkled, and she pursed her lips. Eric knew she wanted to answer the question, though he thought he had an idea. He didn¡¯t speak however, giving her a chance to answer. After all, Maynor hadn¡¯t asked him.


    ¡°No,¡± she said finally, and there was a note of defeat in her voice.


    ¡°How about you, Prince Eric? Can you think of anything?¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s just a strong thrust, with a different weapon, say a shield, could it be used to knock an opponent away from you?¡±


    ¡°Good answer. A strong thrust with a blade will puncture. But if you had a shield and used it, it would push back foes. That¡¯s the kind of thinking you need to use with your skills. An adequate warrior can use puncture to pierce armor. A great warrior can find other uses for it. This is true of all your skills.¡±


    Chari smiled at Eric, but he knew she felt bad that she hadn¡¯t come up with the answer herself. He didn¡¯t want there to be competition between them, but he realized that Chari was competitive, and that it was something he¡¯d have to grow used to. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard. He¡¯d always competed with Dahr. Of course, with Dahr it was easier, having a two year advantage. Well, it was easier for him. It probably wasn¡¯t that great for Dahr, now that he had taken the time to think about it. He realized that Maynor was talking again and hurried to catch up. Maynor had asked her about her other skills, the ones she had gotten when they revisited the Other Realm.


    ¡°There were three of them, one for each level,¡± Chari was saying. ¡°The skills are Shred, Frenzy and Tremendous Leap. I¡¯ve used them all, and they seem pretty powerful. I was thinking from what you said earlier, that I could combine the skills, use Shred and Frenzy at the same time to get a hard attack that goes much faster.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Maynor almost shouted the compliment, then continued. ¡°This is the way I need you to think. But remember, it¡¯s not just about knowing the combinations of your own skills, but how your skills will interact with Eric¡¯s and Dahr¡¯s. I¡¯m really not sure what Dahr thinks he¡¯s accomplishing by keeping the skills from me. You¡¯ll both see them at some point. I don¡¯t understand the need for secrecy.¡±


    Chari and Eric shared a glance, but it was Eric who replied. ¡°Dahr needs to follow the will of George in the same way I must follow Sheba¡¯s. We don¡¯t get to decide our actions. Well, we do, but hopefully we decide right. George and Dahr are linked as I am linked to Sheba. I understand his desire to obey. And though it may not come easily, I suggest, Maynor, that you trust in the gods as well, because that really is our only hope. Whatever happens, I get the strong impression that neither you nor my father will be there to save us. Whatever we have to do, we have to do on our own. That¡¯s what all this training is about.¡±


    Maynor nodded. ¡°I know. But how can I train him if he won¡¯t tell me his skills.¡±


    This time, it was Chari who answered. ¡°Maynor, I know this may be hard to believe, but of all of us, Dahr is the one who is in the least amount of danger. I can¡¯t tell you his skills, but I can tell you that he¡¯s the one you won¡¯t have to worry about. Worry about training me and Eric. George will provide Dahr with all the training he needs.¡±


    Maynor frowned but didn¡¯t challenge her. ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t,¡± said Chari. ¡°But we have to trust the gods do.¡±

 Chapter 21 - The Roots of Lost Wisdom

    Chapter 21 ¨C The Roots of Lost Wisdom


    Thirteenth of Learning 1142


    Dahr hurried away from the salon and made his way out the main gate toward the edge of the palace grounds. He didn¡¯t want to be seen leaving so, as he had once before, he picked a place where he wouldn¡¯t be noticed and walked through the wall.  It was as easy as walking through air. One minute he was inside the palace boundaries and then he was outside. He reached back to touch the wall, but it was solid again.


    He allowed his intuition to guide him toward the temples, along the same broad stone thoroughfare he¡¯d taken the day he¡¯d stolen the veresh. No one noticed him. He might have been a page or a palace messenger on some business for one noble or another. He walked, focused on moving quickly rather than taking in the area around him. He wanted to look like he knew where he was heading, even though he didn''t. He was following the path his god wanted him to take, but where that led, he had no idea.


    A short time later, he reached the temple district. Some temples he recognized on sight, others he had only seen a couple of times and had no idea which gods were associated with them. The biggest of course was the Temple of Sylinar, which towered above the others. It was located exactly in the center of the area and could be seen from any direction. Though he wasn¡¯t close enough to make out the details of the statues that surrounded it, he couldn¡¯t miss the huge representation of Sylinar atop the structure, visible from everywhere in the square. The goddess¡¯s gaze seemed to follow him as he went, making him feel like she knew what he was up to. He envied her that knowledge as Dahr had no idea.


    As he drew closer, Dahr thought about her¨Cthe queen goddess. People called her the mother, for that¡¯s what she was. The mother of all the other gods and goddesses. She gave birth to them. He tried to picture Sheba as a child, running and playing, being yelled at by a loving but stern mother, then laughed and shook his head. It hadn¡¯t been like that at all.


    Dahr knew that gods didn¡¯t have gender, that they could appear in any form. Most of the earlier gods appeared as females, because most often Sylinar did, but there were no female or male gods. Sylinar didn¡¯t physically give birth. That she was called the Mother was a way for humans to understand her. She created the other gods. And he was aware that gods had appeared in different forms to different people. Sheba had appeared to him as a wolf. That didn¡¯t mean she was a wolf.


    He had once asked a priest why so many of the more powerful gods took female form when dealing with the others, and had been told that the gods did it to honor Sylinar who herself most often appeared as a female, though no one knew why. The exception was Sarith, who appeared as a female only to mock the Mother, whom she resented. Dahr didn¡¯t understand this.


    Sylinar had given her life, and she had chosen to make a mockery of the Mother¡¯s preferred form. Sylinar had created all the gods, gifting each of them dominion over some aspect of creation, be it magic or lore or combat. But Sarith had rejected that and declared herself the goddess of war and was worshipped as such to this day. Dahr had no idea how that worked. It¡¯s not like he could just decide he was a king when he woke up one day, but that¡¯s exactly what Sarith had done. And yet, Sylinar didn¡¯t punish her for her insolence. Sarith was a god, and Sylinar had respected her decree.


    Sylinar, he knew, was mostly worshipped by healers, but everyone prayed to her, because not only was she the mother of their gods, but also because everyone got sick or needed healing from time to time. Even he¡¯d prayed to her when he was hurt. You couldn¡¯t really worship Sheba without also worshiping Sylinar. Which led him to think about George. Did he worship George? Not really. Their relationship seemed different. More...casual? I mean he didn¡¯t even know George¡¯s name.


    George didn¡¯t have a temple here...or did he?  He had just passed Sylinar¡¯s temple and made a game out of trying to figure out which of the many temples around him might belong to his god. Did he know for sure George was a god? I mean with the power Dahr had seen so far, he¡¯d have to be, right? Any being that could grant him the use of any skill would have to be powerful, but which god could do that?


    He reviewed what he knew of the gods. He knew Sylinar and Arimen were out, as was Sheba, obviously. There was Iorana, the goddess of magic, Se Karn the god of Death, there were gods of storms, trade, thieves, art...most skill trades had a god. His reverie was broken by the sight of a temple that sent a chill down his spine.


    It was made of a dark stone he couldn¡¯t name, and a pall hung over it. It wasn¡¯t the Temple of the Dead. He knew what Se Karn¡¯s temple looked like. He wondered about it as he passed, hoping he wouldn¡¯t have to go inside. He sighed relief as he passed it by.


    So many gods. He was getting to the end of the district now, where the temples were smaller and closer together. He had no idea what any of them represented, and there weren¡¯t many people about. When he past the temple district, he felt a pang of disappointment and realized that in the back of his mind, he¡¯d been hoping he¡¯d stop at one of them and finally learn who his mysterious benefactor was. But that hope was shattered when he left the last of the temples behind and continued on into the guild district.


    Dahr had never been here before, but it didn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not like he needed to locate a specific building. He was being guided directly to where he needed to go. That said, he couldn¡¯t have missed it if he¡¯d tried.


    The building was a huge, sprawling structure with three wings jutting out from a large cylinder that rose a full six stories from the ground. Dahr couldn¡¯t tell if it was made of dark glass, metal or something else entirely. The front doors seemed to be made of smoked glass and were closed, but he walked through without bothering to open them.  He was in a large room with all sorts of people sitting at tables eating or talking. An expensive looking white desk sat just before the entrance. He walked up to it with a confidence he didn¡¯t feel. As soon as the man behind the desk spoke, he knew exactly why he was there.


    ¡°Welcome to the Rish branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, what can I do for you young man?¡±


    The man behind the desk was small and slim, with a pencil thin mustache and a beard that was so light as to be barely visible in the not-so-brightly lit room. The man had small eyes, a small nose, and a mouth that seemed disproportionately wide compared to the rest of his face. It was curved now in a welcoming smile, with just a hint of a smirk in it, probably because he wasn¡¯t used to dealing with anyone as young as Dahr. Dahr, however, planned to change the way this man regarded him.


    ¡°I would like to register a guild.¡±


    The man looked amused. ¡°Would you now?¡±


    ¡°I would.¡±


    ¡°You realize that you can¡¯t register a guild if you haven¡¯t transitioned.¡±


    ¡°But I have.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your class then?¡±


    ¡°My god does not wish me to reveal my class.¡±


    The man stared at him, surprised. ¡°Do you have some skill, then, that you can display?¡±


    Dahr smiled, impishly. ¡°Did you have a specific skill you wanted to see?¡±


    The man shook his head, as much in confusion as anything else.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what I want to see, I just need some evidence that you even have a class.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°What¡¯s your favorite skill? Rather what¡¯s your favorite skill that could be cast safely here?¡±


    The man looked perplexed, but then his expression settled back into amusement. ¡°Okay, I saw a man summon a parrot made of fire once.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°Like this?¡±


    Without any kind of incantation, Dahr performed a dramatic flourish and a flaming parrot flew down from the ceiling and landed on his outstretched hand. The man behind the desk gawked.


    ¡°How did you...you didn¡¯t even say anything!¡±


    Dahr smiled, enjoying himself. ¡°I can cast spells without using an incantation.¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s not possible.¡±


    ¡°Sure it is,¡± said the parrot, matter of factly.


    The man¡¯s jaw fell open.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll let you apply for a guild license now,¡± asked the parrot.


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know the requirements for registering a guild, but I strongly suspect this man isn¡¯t going to be the one who decides if I¡¯m worthy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fair point,¡± agreed the parrot. ¡°He seems to be broken.¡±


    The man was stammering something, but what came out made no sense. He tried again. ¡°The parrot, it¡¯s talking.¡±


    The parrot looked him over, shook its head and turned to look at Dahr. ¡°Maybe you should ask to speak to his manager.¡±


    Somehow, Dahr kept a straight face. ¡°So, I¡¯d like to register a guild. What¡¯s the process?¡±


    The man shook himself and found his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll need a bit of information first.¡±


    He opened a desk draw and rifled through several papers until he found the one he was looking for. He placed it on the desk, uncovered an ink pot and dipped a quill lightly into it.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Prince Dahr of Twyl.¡±


    The man lowered the quill. ¡°Say again?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Prince Dahr of Twyl, son of King Terrence. You might have heard of him.¡±


    The receptionist¡¯s face darkened, when another figure who¡¯d entered the building strode toward the desk.


    ¡°Prince Dahr! What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Oh hi, Veloran. I¡¯m here to register a guild.¡±


    The man behind the desk gawked. ¡°High Priest Veloran¡­ you know this young man?¡±


    ¡°Indeed I do. He is very important to my goddess. Is there a problem here...I mean besides Prince Dahr being away from the palace without an escort?¡±


    Dahr smiled sheepishly. ¡°I had stuff to do that I didn¡¯t want anyone to know about, so I came here myself.¡±


    ¡°Dahr, how did you get out of the palace without being stopped, or seen?¡±


    Dahr chuckled. ¡°Is this really a question you want me to answer here? Publicly?¡±


    Veloran smiled, wryly. ¡°You are a handful. So you¡¯re trying to register a guild?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Eric told me how the Adventurer¡¯s Guild protects its members. It¡¯s another level of protection. And guilds have chapters in every city, even in distant countries. There¡¯s no telling where we might end up.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s true, and well thought out. It never really occurred to me. Who will be in this guild?¡±


    ¡°So far, me, Prince Eric and Princess Chari. As a familiar I don¡¯t think Kalutu needs to be registered separately.¡±


    Veloran turned to the man behind the desk. ¡°Perhaps you should summon someone to handle this request. I don¡¯t think it should wait.¡±


    ¡°At once, High Priest!¡±


    The man fled the room as fast as decorum would allow. Dahr followed his progress away from the desk with amusement.


    ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing, My Prince,¡± said Veloran.


    Dahr looked up at the larger man. ¡°Let¡¯s hope George knows. I¡¯m just following orders.¡±


    Veloran nodded curtly. ¡°Do you have a name for your team?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m going to call it Lost Wisdom.¡±


    ¡°Interesting name.¡±


    ¡°I like it.¡±


    Sensing he wouldn¡¯t get more from Dahr on the name, Veloran changed the subject.


    ¡°And would you like to explain that?¡± asked Veloran, gesturing to the flaming bird currently sitting on Dahr¡¯s shoulder. It made Veloran uncomfortable, considering how close the flames coming off the bird were to the young prince¡¯s hair.


    The parrot chuckled, and looked right at Veloran. ¡°I¡¯m right here, you know. If you wanted to know something about me, you could have just asked. Rude!¡±


    Veloran¡¯s mouth fell open and he looked from the parrot to Dahr and back. Finally, finding his voice, he spoke. ¡°So are you a friend of Dahr¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°More of a work colleague you could say,¡± replied the parrot.


    *


    Dahr walked beside Veloran, happy to have registered a guild team. He made himself the team leader, because as the only member present that was the only way he could register the team, with the understanding that it could always be changed after the fact. He had little doubt Eric would end up running it, but at least he got to be leader for a short time.


    Veloran was humming to himself as they walked along the streets. His presence had greatly streamlined the process, particularly when it came time to pay the fee, since Dahr didn¡¯t have any money with him, and even if he had, he wouldn¡¯t have had enough. Who would have thought registering a team cost eight gold pieces! But Veloran paid for it without a word of complaint, waiving away Dahr¡¯s promise to pay it back.


    ¡°If you really want to pay me back,¡± he had said, ¡°you won¡¯t leave the palace unescorted again.¡±


    Dahr told him he would try, but that sometimes his god had other plans for him. It was something Veloran could readily understand, and so he let the conversation drop.


    As much help as Veloran had been to the process of registering the guild, the flaming parrot hadn¡¯t been quite as helpful and, after a word from Dahr, had winged himself through a wall never to be seen again. Dahr wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that. He was quite entertained by the creature, though he thought that continued proximity might become tiresome.


    When they got back to the palace, they entered through the main gate, partly because Veloran couldn¡¯t walk through walls, and partly because there was no need for Dahr to sneak in.  The process of registering a guild had taken longer than he thought it would, and he returned to a very irate arms instructor, who had to be talked down by Veloran.


    While this was going on, Dahr spoke to Eric and Chari.


    ¡°Where did you go?¡± asked Eric. ¡°I thought Maynor was going to explode when he sent out pages, and no one could find you. You caused quite the commotion.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m back now, and you¡¯ll never guess where I¡¯ve been.¡±


    ¡°Did you sneak out of the palace again?¡± asked Chari, reprovingly.


    ¡°Yes, I did. But it¡¯s okay, Veloran found me and brought me back.¡±


    ¡°From where?¡± asked Eric, frustration beginning to slip into his voice.


    ¡°The Adventurer¡¯s Guild. I registered a team.¡±


    ¡°You did what!¡± said Eric and Chari in unison.


    ¡°Team members are protected by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. You told me that, Eric. And I thought, we could use all the protection we could get. It doesn¡¯t matter if we¡¯re active. We¡¯re a team.¡±


    ¡°Oh we are, are we? You didn¡¯t think to ask us?¡± Dahr was getting used to seeing that look on Chari¡¯s face.


    ¡°George is the one who led me there. Am I supposed to ask you for permission every time my god tells me I should do something?¡±


    ¡°You could have discussed it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know what I was doing till I got there. Anyway, we¡¯re officially a team, just the three of us.¡±


    ¡°Does this team have a name?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°It¡¯s called Lost Wisdom. I sort of named it for my mom. I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s a great name,¡± said Chari before Eric could respond. ¡°I¡¯m sure your mother would be proud.¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°It is a cool name. And you¡¯ll be a fine leader.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°Why me? Shouldn¡¯t it be you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°What about Chari then?¡±


    Both of them looked at Chari, who shook her head. ¡°Not going to happen. I¡¯m too reckless, but I¡¯m not protected the way Dahr seems to be. I¡¯ll end up getting someone killed. I think it should be Eric too.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°If I were the team leader, you¡¯d be team leader, Chari. If you haven¡¯t noticed, I defer to you. It¡¯s like the relationship my father and mother have. He¡¯s like you and I¡¯m like her.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a compliment, I think,¡± she said.


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Dahr looked at Kalutu who had watched the whole conversation without a word. ¡°What about you, Kal? Do you think I should be team leader?¡±


    Kalutu stared at him. ¡°Kal?¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s shorter than Kalutu.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s not my name.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said I was your master and I could call you anything I wanted. Well, you said that to Eric, but I assume the same rule applies.¡±


    Kalutu looked like he wanted to protest. ¡°As you wish, Dahr.¡±


    ¡°So back to the question, do you think I should be team leader?¡±


    Kalutu looked thoughtful. He studied Eric, then Chari, then nodded. ¡°Of the three of you, I believe you would be the best choice. Eric and Chari are in a relationship, and that would affect decisions. You don¡¯t have such attachments.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good point,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°It¡¯s also why an equal vote wouldn¡¯t work,¡± continued Kalutu. ¡°It is more likely Eric and Chari will side with each other, rather than either of them with you.¡±


    ¡°How do you know so much about relationships?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°Owls have very close relationships. We have families, you know?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Where do you think baby owls come from?¡±


    ¡°I mean I know you have families... oh never mind.¡±


    ¡°So, team leader, what do we do now?¡± asked Eric.


    Dahr grinned. ¡°We hope Veloran manages to calm Maynor down, while we track down some food. I¡¯m starved.¡±


    Eric clapped him on the back. ¡°That¡¯s an idea worthy of a leader.¡±


    The four looked back at Maynor and Veloran, still deeply involved in their whispered conversation. While Maynor was distracted, they snuck out of the courtyard. Dahr strongly suspected that this was going to cost him down the road. He was just so hungry, he didn''t care.

 Chapter 22 - Two Good Eyes

    Fourteenth of Learning 1142


    Rumors among the nobility in big cities had any number of ways of spreading. There were people who sold information, but there were also people who just wanted to impress the lords and ladies they considered their betters. Perhaps if they were useful enough, the lord would remember them should they ever need help.  It was a pipe dream for the most part. Nobles didn¡¯t generally remember commoners, but hope is eternal. Not wise, just eternal.


    For these reasons, the nobility of any city was fairly well informed, at least when it came to gossip. To be sure, most knew nothing of the day-to-day struggles of the poor. They didn¡¯t know that the blacksmith beat his wife when he was drunk or that the daughter of a particular farmer was pregnant with a merchant¡¯s child. Nobles wouldn¡¯t have cared about what the commoners got up to. But a princess disguised as an adventurer who had a pet kreve? The whole concept was so unlikely, it immediately became the centerpiece of every conversation.


    Theories abounded about which king was her father. Surely she had to be illegitimate, but what if she wasn¡¯t? Did you hear she¡¯d gone up six levels in one night? Surely the goddess favors her. It has to be Sheba, doesn¡¯t it? Did you see her walking around the city with that kreve?


    Striker was blissfully unaware of any gossip. She had done her job, which was to act haughty, spend money and be seen. The money had been furnished by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, so she was having fun. And Wanderer¡¯s Rest, the inn at which she currently resided, was suddenly a very busy place. And not just busy with commoners. People who never would have been caught dead in that place invented reasons to be there. Nobles, rich merchants, even some lesser royalty. Everyone wanted to sneak a peak at Striker and maybe see if they could engage her in conversation. But Striker was very, very good at playing the disdainful royal, who didn¡¯t have time for idle chatter with people she considered below her station. Aside from that, she was almost always with Stalker, who had a tendency to keep all but the bravest at bay.


    Strangely enough, it was children who were the most drawn to Stalker, and often Striker would let them pet her, until their alarmed parents called them back. And more than once, Striker heard the children saying as they walked away that they too would be Beast Masters when they grew up. It was unlikely any of them would, but the hope would keep them going. Striker was happy about that.


    She was less happy about the changes going on at the Wanderer¡¯s Rest. Those who frequented or worked at the inn soon learned that having nobles at their inn changed everything. At Aranya¡¯s suggestion, Striker hired a personal chef, who took over the kitchen, made changes, ordered in new ingredients, and in general made the staff¡¯s life a living hell. His desire for perfection meant he had to train everyone, mostly by shouting at them.  Grace, the innkeeper, was forced to pay her staff more just to get them to come to work. But she was making more and so couldn¡¯t complain.


    Striker spent a lot of time at the inn. She sat at a corner table, the area around it cleared enough so her pet could accompany her. Stalker sat at her feet, growling at everyone who came near, making it harder for people to get a word with her. This was fine by Striker, who was enjoying the frustration of those who had come to gawk.


    The first person to get through was a messenger. She knew he was a messenger, because he wore the livery of the Messenger¡¯s Guild, which served the city. Most communication came through this official channel. Striker, recognizing the man¡¯s uniform, told Stalker to stand down.


    She had expected a message or two, even though it had only been a couple of days. She ended up with about twenty. She stared at the pile, signed for them, and decided she¡¯d open them in her room.


    Those who had come to get a glimpse of her, watched on forlornly as she bowed sarcastically to them before ascending the stairs. They no doubt wondered what a royal was doing in a place like this, but Striker was adamant that this is where she would stay, in spite of myriad protests from the guild mistress.


    While spending money and the attention was fun, she had one bit of business that she hadn¡¯t been able to get to. She had been without sex for a very long time, and it frustrated her. It wasn¡¯t that she wasn¡¯t enjoying her time as a not-so-hidden royal, but she definitely wasn¡¯t having as much fun as she could have been. This was something she needed to rectify and soon¡­but not yet.


    With a deep sigh, she sat at the table in her room and opened the first letter. It was an invitation to a dinner with a noble named Lord Yates. They would all be invitations she thought. She put them all into a pack and took it with her. She walked out the door, locked it behind her and made her way to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, Stalker padding silently behind.


    *


    An hour later, she sat with Aranya Freesh in a secure room. Jesh Belor was present, but Gordic was off doing whatever it is he did when he wasn¡¯t with Aranya.


    ¡°A dozen invitations already. Not bad. We¡¯ll only respond to the ones that include your entire team. The ones for you alone, we won¡¯t respond to at all.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t that be considered rude?¡± asked Striker, absently petting Stalker on the head.


    ¡°Yes. It will further cement that you are royalty to those ignored. To ignore them you¡¯d have to be important. Treating them with disdain won¡¯t make them less interested in you, it will just validate what they already thought.¡±


    ¡°Nobles are weird.¡±


    ¡°Everyone is weird. There¡¯s no single group of people weirder than adventurers, I think. Nobles are easy to manipulate because they follow a very strict set of rules, at least publicly. Adventurers don¡¯t really have any rules at all, except for the ones they make for themselves. I mean we have rules, obviously, but that doesn¡¯t really have much influence on what adventurers do.¡±


    Striker thought about this. ¡°As guild mistress, why would you tolerate people flouting the rules all the time?¡±


    ¡°Because the same initiative it takes to defeat monsters and protect people demands a certain type of independence. The rules are guidelines, and you should know them and shouldn¡¯t break them without a reason. But if you have a reason and can defend it, then that¡¯s that. There¡¯s no good reason to punish.  It¡¯s like killing someone is bad, but not if it¡¯s in self defense. We trust adventurers to make the right decision with the information they have, because we have to. And sometimes members will cross lines so far as to stretch even our tolerance. At those times, those adventurers will pay a price, sometimes a high price, but it¡¯s rare. Most of us are insane, but in a good way. We throw ourselves at monsters any sane person would run from. We put our lives on the line for people that don¡¯t necessarily appreciate or value us. The great mage Old Man Marko once suggested being an adventurer is like dancing blindfolded on an icy ledge on a windy day. I think it¡¯s a pretty good description.¡±


    Striker nodded. ¡°So we¡¯re going to be meeting some of these nobles?¡±


    ¡°Not me. You and your team. I¡¯ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Ressssen should consider adding Merck to your roster. It¡¯s more protection for him, since he would be protected not just by you, but by guild policy as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her. I had another question, though.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Why are you investing so much money in this mission? I mean I expected some support, but nothing like this. Why are you taking the word of a low level team?¡±


    Aranya smiled. ¡°I¡¯m not. I¡¯m taking the word of the High Priestess of Iorana. Your team hasn¡¯t done much to warrant trust yet, but the High Priestess of Iorana for Pelaro? Her reputation is impeccable. If she vouched for you, then you are who you say you are. If I didn¡¯t invest this money, and something were to happen to you or Merck, or the boy he searches for, the failure would be mine to bear.¡±


    ¡°And why did you pick me to be your royal?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re looking for a boy. I can promise you, every noble in the city is going to make sure you see their sons, because if you take a liking to one, that¡¯s a possible marriage down the road.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Aranya laughed. ¡°Getting your son married to a princess? It¡¯s a strong motivation. There are very few nobles who would turn up their nose at that. They don¡¯t know if the rumors about you are true or not, but introducing you to their sons costs very little in the larger scheme of things. It¡¯s a very small risk for a very large potential reward.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. You don¡¯t deal much with the nobility. I do. I know how they think. Every time I catch myself thinking that way, I take a bath.¡±


    Striker grinned. ¡°Does that happen often?¡±


    ¡°Me thinking like a noble?¡± Aranya grew serious. ¡°When you¡¯re running a guild, politics is inevitable. The trick isn¡¯t not to think like a noble. The trick is to be able to turn it off when you don¡¯t need to think that way. It¡¯s not always easy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe anyone thinks like that at all. I¡¯m surprised anyone bought this story. The whole thing is wildly implausible.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what sells it. The nobility is bored and looking for entertainment. It doesn¡¯t have to be true. It doesn¡¯t have to be likely. It has to be interesting. They believe it, because they want it to be true. It¡¯s exactly the right mixture of implausibility and the potential for future profit. Their greed means they can¡¯t afford to not believe it, because there¡¯s a possibility of them cashing in. No one wants this to be true more than the nobility of Pelaro. They¡¯ve raised self-deception to an art form. On top of that, they have my behavior toward you. They don¡¯t know you, but they know me very well. If I¡¯m taking your identity this seriously, then you¡¯re probably who they think you are. And the more we try to cover it up, the more they believe its the truth.¡±


    Striker chuckled. ¡°Okay. One more question then. What happens if the nobles have people at these gatherings that can detect lies? I mean I¡¯m definitely going to be lying at least some of the time.¡±


    ¡°While it¡¯s true nobles do sometimes use mages for that reason, it¡¯s almost never at a gathering of nobles. Not only is it considered to be one of the rudest things you can do, it¡¯s also true that there are too many magical devices that can detect when such spells are used. Most nobles have them. Nobles lie a lot, and no one wants to be vetted when they¡¯re speaking. The game they play with each other is competitive. Figuring out who¡¯s lying without help is part of their game. A good liar is respected as being good at the game. Anyone who uses that kind of magic against one of their own, soon wouldn¡¯t be invited to many functions.


    ¡°Besides, no one of a lower station would ever use magic to detect lies on someone of a higher station, because to be caught doing that would be embarrassing. A king, for example, could do that to almost anyone. As a guild mistress, it¡¯s my right to do it to any guild member, but I¡¯d have trouble getting away with it if I were interrogating a royal, unless they happened to be in the guild building, which would be like me being in their palace. The rules are complicated, but it¡¯s unlikely that anyone at a gathering of nobles wants people around who can verify truth. And if you truly were the daughter of a king, no one would risk that kind of offense. Of course, any commoner would be fair game. You and your team? Not so much.¡±


    ¡°The more I hear about this, the more complicated it sounds.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re up for it? This is your last chance to back out.¡±


    Striker took a moment to consider before answering. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be able to find someone that could better pull off something like this. I¡¯ve spent a significant portion of my life pretending to be someone I wasn¡¯t. No, I can do this.¡±


    Aranya looked at her sharply. ¡°Something you want to share?¡±


    ¡°Not really. Common folk like me often have to pretend to be something we¡¯re not to be accepted in society. You play the game, or you suffer for it. You haven¡¯t always been a guild leader, surely you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Even as a guild leader, that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I never thought about it. I don¡¯t suffer fools easily, and there are a lot of fools out there with more social standing than me. Sometimes I think my entire life has been a lie.¡±


    Striker got a faraway look in her eyes, and Aranya left her with her thoughts. When Striker pulled herself back to the moment, she looked determined.


    ¡°I guess the only question left is, what¡¯s next?


    ¡°We respond to selected invitations, and you go have some nice food and act arrogant and unattainable. Think you can handle it?¡±


    Striker¡¯s entire face changed. She narrowed her eyes and scowled. For a moment, she looked almost like a different person altogether. ¡°Do you dare question my ability? Do you have any idea who I am? Another word out of you, and I¡¯ll have your job, you miserable peasant.¡±


    Aranya was taken aback for only a moment then burst out laughing.


    *


    He wasn¡¯t much to look at. Striker examined the man who lay beside her through slitted eyes, finally sated after almost a month of abstinence. A month that felt like years. While his face was too square and his beard too thick for her taste, he had a nice body and knew how to use it. It left her panting, spent, but alive, so very alive. He, on the other hand, had fallen asleep before the sweat of their exertion had dried.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Striker felt as she always had after sex¨C refreshed and ready to take on the world. The release always left her feeling this way¨C vivacious, energetic, free. At some point he¡¯d wake, and then he¡¯d be gone and she¡¯d be blissfully alone. This was the closest she could afford to having a relationship. It was enough. It had to be enough.


    She didn¡¯t dwell further on it. There were other matters to consider. Thoughts crowded her mind vying for her attention. Ending the undead threat? No, not that one. That had been on her mind since the moment she¡¯d heard the possibility. This was of great concern to her, but she had no idea if it was true or not, didn¡¯t even know if this boy they searched for existed. By his own admission, Merck Vanderoth had been high at the time. Who¡¯s to say what he¡¯d seen had been real? If he believed it, truth spells wouldn¡¯t have revealed a damn thing.


    But she knew the answer even as she thought it. It had to be real, because he had been a Swindler and now he was a Priest. Had that ever happened before? She had wanted to ask Aranya but kept forgetting. It was always late at night when she remembered these things, only to forget them when she woke.


    Not really surprising considering how much there was to distract her. She may not have been a noble, but for the first time in her life, she got to pretend she was one, and it was fantastic. Much more fun than actually being a noble. Because if she¡¯d been born a noble, she wouldn¡¯t act this way¨C at least she hoped that was true. Treating people like something that crawled out of a sewer wasn¡¯t right¨C had never been right. But she was doing it for a good cause, so she¡¯d just have to force herself to suffer through it. She chuckled a bit at the thought. The fine food, the attention, the ability to cause irritation that others had no choice but to deal with.  She¡¯d been on the other side of that equation herself, so this was a novelty for her. For a while, at least, she could be someone she could never be in life.


    And then there were the levels. Once Sheba had been her patron goddess. She had been a Hunter. She continued to be a Hunter of course, but the link between her and the goddess had been severed through no fault of her own. And though she kept the skills she had, she hadn¡¯t leveled from that point. For years she watched others around her gain levels, while she never progressed at all. It was painful in a way little else could be. Watching others have what she could not. Could never have again¡­ or so she had thought.


    She wanted to be happy for her team when they leveled...and she was. But that happiness was bittersweet, an aching pang of realization that they were experiencing something that would be denied her forever. Ressssen had hit Level 8, while Striker was still Level 4. She had fought side by side with them, had shared her life with them, at least the parts she could safely share, had formed a real bond with them, knowing in the back of her mind that at some point, they would outgrow her and have to let her go.


    They wouldn¡¯t want to, but eventually she¡¯d end up holding them back. They¡¯d have no choice. If she hadn¡¯t been so comfortable with the Misfits, she would have left before that happened, but she hadn¡¯t been able to find the strength to do it.  It had been a horrible game of endless waiting, knowing there was no path forward. Knowing there was no way she could continue to be part of her makeshift family.


    And then, out of nowhere, without a link to the goddess or any other deity, she was suddenly Level 10, which brought her to Tier 2. For some people that just meant a Level 10 Hunter, but a few chosen ones ended up specializing. Beast Mastery, she knew, wasn¡¯t a common specialization. It wasn¡¯t something she ever expected. Without the link to Sheba, it shouldn¡¯t have been possible.


    She closed her eyes, trying to feel the goddess, but there was nothing there. She wasn¡¯t wrong about this. She was no longer linked to Sheba. But if that was the case, how had she become a Beast Master? That class belonged to the goddess of the hunt. No other god, so far as she knew, had ever given that class to anyone. So what had happened? She had no idea.


    Almost as strange was the idea that when she woke, she would be attending the first of many events arranged specifically for her. These dinners and lunches and in one case a concert were all arranged so that people could take her measure. Try to learn something about her. The majority of invitations made sure to include Stalker and assured her they would be happy to accommodate her pet. And the vast majority also asked her to bring the Misfits as well.


    The whole thing was surreal. Fortunately, Striker did have some experience with nobility to draw on, even if she herself wasn¡¯t a noble. This gave her a unique advantage. And no one knew. No one even suspected, not even Ressssen who knew her better than anyone.


    She smiled to herself, still riding the sexual high. Whatever happened in the days to come, Striker was going to make the most of it. Striker had always been a live in the moment type of woman. The future, whatever it was, would have to take care of itself.


    *


    Fifteenth of Learning 1142


    Lord Morlitz sat with Lord Keaton. They kept their voices low as they exchanged what information they had gathered about Striker. Everywhere he looked, small clumps of Pelaro¡¯s elite were doing the same. They were in the ball room of his mansion, smaller than a palace ballroom, but huge by any other standard, furnished in style from the intricately white and black tiled floor to the oil paintings on the walls, at least two of which were by Eris herself, one of the preeminent painters of the last century. They were the pride of his collection. He could have never afforded to buy them, but was content enough to have inherited them, as he had most of his wealth.  There were tables completely surrounding the room, spread with all sorts of delicacies; imported fish, a selection of meats including some from wild creatures he had picked up from the local chapter of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, various baked items, a selection of fine wines, and even a sculpture made of flames in the shape of a wolf to honor Sheba, this last an attempt to impress the young Beast Master.


    As the first to host the Misfits of Karmenon, he had had to turn away quite a few minor nobles. The party was already too large for his liking, but certain people you couldn¡¯t say no to, or at least he couldn¡¯t. Expectation hung in the air like the tension before a lightning storm. The normal banter was replaced by hushed whispers as people shared every detail they could think of about Striker and her team. There was so much that wasn¡¯t yet known. Each of those present shared a deep desire to learn more about the princess, who she was, why she was there, and most importantly, the identity of her father.


    ¡°The thing is,¡± continued Lord Keaton, ¡°when I interrogated the man, he denied ever being in her room. Said he¡¯d never spoken to her, even though we¡¯d all seen him with her. It was like he¡¯d completely forgotten.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps he was lying to spare her honor?¡±


    ¡°No, I had a Mage with me, detecting lies. He was telling the truth.¡±


    Lord Morlitz looked thoughtful. ¡°Maybe she has a skill to make people forget, though I¡¯ve never heard of a Beast Master with such a skill. She was a Hunter before right?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯ve heard, yes. There¡¯s something passing odd about this whole situation.¡±


    ¡°That, at least, everyone agrees on. It just seems to me¡­¡±


    At that moment, conversations died as a small group of people appeared at the ball room¡¯s entrance. They were dressed the way you¡¯d expect lower level adventurers to dress, though Striker, at least, held her head high. The way she carried herself, there wasn¡¯t a person present who didn¡¯t believe her to be a king¡¯s daughter.  She looked around at them as if she were a chef inspecting ingredients for the night¡¯s meal that weren¡¯t quite up to her usual standards. Beside her stood a kreve, huge, black and menacing. She looked down at it, spoke a single word, and it dropped its glare, then its head. Behind her was her team, all five of them. To look at them, you¡¯d never think them at all special, but maybe that was the point. Maybe they looked this way to blend in with other low level teams, so as to keep the princess¡¯s identity secret. But if that was so, why did she meet with Aranya Freesh and why agree to attend a banquet. For that matter, why include a salad, a phase shifter and a serpent lord on the team? Mysteries clung to the Misfits are Karmenon like ticks to a bear.


    At the top of the stairs, his seneschal announced them one by one, after a whispered conversation with Striker.


    ¡°Presenting the adventuring team the Misfits of Karmenon. The team leader, who is of the serpent lord people, Ressssen. Her second in command, Garne. The team¡¯s Healer, a salad, Borin, the team¡¯s Scout, a phase shifter, Dreek, and Merck Vanderoth, who is a Priest of an unknown god.¡±


    A murmur went up at this, followed by shushing sounds. The furor settled as quickly as it had begun.


    ¡°And finally, the Beast Master, Trace and her pet kreve, Stalker.¡±


    This time, the silence lasted longer as people took their measure. For many it was the first time they had seen the team. The kreve was impressive, but most present had seen entertainers with animal acts before, and so dismissed it as unimportant. Instead they scrutinized the team, looking for some tiny detail that might give them an advantage over the competition.


    Ressssen was a striking figure, but then, all serpent lords were. She stood taller than most people even though her body was almost certainly shorter. The long serpentine neck all serpent ladies possessed was probably two feet long by itself. Ressssen¡¯s head raised her height even further. Her pupils were elliptical, like all of her people, helping her to see better at night. Her scales were iridescent in the light shining through the stained glass windows, running the gamut from blue to green and back again. Lord Morlitz assumed she was a mage, not only from the robes she wore, but also due to the fact that serpent lords were famous for their affinity to magic.


    Garne was clearly the warrior of the group. Almost as tall as Ressssen, he was broad shouldered and muscular, his fitted leather armor adding only a bit to his bulk, but he didn¡¯t need it. Though he wasn¡¯t musclebound as some warriors were, his solid stocky build reminded Lord Morlitz of a bull. Garne hadn¡¯t brought weapons with him, or they had been removed before he entered the manor, as was customary. Lord Morlitz wondered what weapon he specialized in. Sword? Axe? Hammer? The Lord could picture him wielding any of them.


    Dreek was a shadow. If it were darker he would have been hard to see at all, but in the bright light of day, he stood out, a hole in the world in the shape of a small human. On closer inspection, he seemed to be wearing fine garb that was exactly the same color he was. Did he have a goatee? Hard to see, but yes. And, was that a monocle? The phase shifter panned his gaze around the room, the lack of details on his face making it difficult at times to see which way he was looking. Lord Morlitz had seen shape shifters before, but only in passing and never had thought he would have one as a guest in his home.


    Borin was a salad. Like all salads he looked very much like a plant. Some salads were more brown in color, but Borin was various shades of green. His arms and legs seemed to be made of woven vines, his head some sort of fruit, though Lord Morlitz couldn¡¯t name it. He had leafy hair a shade darker than any other part of him, descending from his head down his back like the crest of some lizard. Lord Morlitz had never seen a salad before and was fascinated.


    And then there was Merck Vanderoth. Not much to look at. Brown hair, brown eyes and nothing special about him, but he¡¯d been introduced as the Priest of an unknown god. He didn¡¯t need to be tall or well built to draw attention.


    Lord Morlitz noticed that Merck stayed very close to Striker, but he didn¡¯t know why. Every time she moved a bit, he followed. Was he some sort of bodyguard? That didn¡¯t make sense. An advisor? Perhaps that. Finally, he turned his attention to Striker herself.


    She was pretty, in a country girl sort of way. Not classically beautiful, but there was something about her that was alive and vivacious and attractive. She stood there calmly, gazing about the room, but there was an energy in her eyes, a challenge. A simple look at her, and it was hard to deny she was something special.


    All this was taken in in a moment before he hurried from where he stood to greet them. No one moved. No one said anything. And though he was dressed more richly than they were, he felt it wasn¡¯t enough. That he would be judged. That this girl--no woman--was somehow above his station. He cursed the insecurity before pushing the feeling away. By the time he reached them, his broad smile was welcoming and confident.


    ¡°Welcome to Morlitz Manor, the ancestral home of my family. I am happy to make your acquaintance. I am Lord Walter Morlitz, the patriarch of the family, who have lived on these lands for hundreds of years. Be welcome here. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask.¡±


    He spoke to all of them, but kept his gaze mostly on Striker. When he was done, she smiled indulgently, as if he were a child.


    ¡°What a lovely home you have. I see you appreciate fine art. Is that an original Eris on the far wall?¡±


    ¡°You have a good eye.¡±


    ¡°Two of them actually.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the expression means¡­¡±


    ¡°I know what the expression means,¡± said Striker, imperiously. ¡°I mean you have two paintings by Eris. I hope you weren¡¯t implying that I don¡¯t speak the language. I¡¯ve had very good tutors.¡±


    Lord Morlitz looked mortified. ¡°No, no! Of course¡­¡±


    Striker interrupted him. ¡°Oh lighten up, man. I was joking. They have jokes in Karmenon, do they not?¡±


    The rest of her team watched on bemused, having seen only a hint of her assumed persona prior to this. Lord Morlitz wasn¡¯t watching their reactions however. He was too busy trying to placate the young princess, while feeling like he was in over his head.


    Several of the other guests were approaching now, providing the Lord a small reprieve. Introductions and polite comments followed, giving him a chance to regain his composure. First impressions were important. Hopefully, the princess would forgive his faux pas or at least forget it.


    He listened to the others, some of whom had brought their young sons along to meet the princess. She seemed to like children, the only people she approached openly. She gave each of them a chance to pet Stalker. His own children were waiting to be introduced later, after the initial rush. Stalker seemed perfectly content to let herself be patted by children and teenagers alike. She was an impressive beast, and Lord Morlitz doubted the children would ever forget this experience.


    The whole time she spoke to and greeted the guests, the priest stayed with her, occasionally whispering something in her ear, or shaking his head slightly to one of her comments that Lord Morlitz couldn¡¯t quite make out. He wondered at the bond between the two of them, and made a mental note to separate them later if possible, to try to get some information from the priest, who might be more forthcoming.


    Despite the rocky beginning, the princess seemed to enjoy being the center of attention. Her team mingled separately from her, and people approached them trying to find out whatever they could. If anyone did get something, they didn¡¯t share it. When he saw Striker staring at one of the paintings, Lord Morlitz made his way to her.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± he asked.


    She glanced at him, smiled slightly, and shook her head. ¡°Eris always manages to capture light particularly well. See the way the sun falls through the curtains here, onto the bed. Why is the girl sleeping in bright sunlight with the curtains open? What do you think he¡¯s trying to say here?¡±


    ¡°I have often wondered if she is sleeping, and not just closing her eyes to the sun.¡±


    Striker looked at the picture again as if studying it. ¡°Perhaps you have a good eye yourself. Maybe even two of them.¡±


    He noticed his wife approaching with his son and daughter. ¡°Ah, here¡¯s another sight for sore eyes. My lovely wife Lady Amanda Morlitz and my children, Matthew and Ainsley. Matthew will be sixteen soon.¡±


    ¡°Almost a man, then,¡± replied Striker. ¡°Tell me, do you have a favorite painting?¡±


    Ainsley who was younger, stood off to the side without saying much, though she stared shyly at Striker, and then looked at Stalker. The beast looked up at Striker as if they shared a mind.


    ¡°I don¡¯t much like paintings,¡± he said, as if he were confessing a secret. ¡°I like swords. A well made sword is more beautiful than any painting.¡±


    ¡°What about a painting of a sword?¡± asked Striker.


    The boy looked surprised. ¡°Wait, there are paintings of swords?¡±


    ¡°There are some amazing paintings with swords in them. There¡¯s a famous painting in Final Hope that shows a battle that took place during the Undead War.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°No, I made it up. Of course really.¡±


    Matthew considered this. ¡°Have you seen it?¡±


    ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°Do you come from Final Hope then?¡± asked Lord Morlitz.


    ¡°I guess that depends on your point of view. I was most likely conceived there at very least.¡±


    Lady Morlitz looked surprised and laughed. Lord Morlitz seemed a bit taken aback, but Striker had already turned her attention to the girl.


    ¡°Ainsley, would you like to pet Stalker?¡±


    ¡°Will he bite me?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to try to hurt me?¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± said the girl. ¡°Daddy said you¡¯re a very important guest, and I should be on my best behavior.¡±


    ¡°Well if you¡¯re not going to try and hurt me, there¡¯s no reason for Stalker to bite, is there?¡±


    ¡°She protects you?¡±


    ¡°She does. But she¡¯s very nice, really. Like a big dog.¡±


    ¡°With way too many teeth,¡± said Lady Morlitz.


    Striker beckoned the girl to come closer, and she did. To show the girl it was safe, she stroked Stalker¡¯s head. The kreve closed its eyes and made a rasping sound.


    ¡°That means she¡¯s happy,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°I can pet her?¡±


    ¡°You can.¡±


    The girl reached out and touched the beast gingerly as if it might burst into flames at any moment, and when the kreve didn¡¯t react at all, Ainsley stroked her head just behind one of her ears. Stalker opened one eye.


    ¡°She likes that,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°Can I pet her too?¡± asked Matthew.


    ¡°Sure you can. Just go easy, you look pretty strong, and we wouldn¡¯t want to hurt her.¡±


    Lord and Lady Morlitz exchanged a glance.


    ¡°You¡¯re not quite what I expected,¡± said Lady Morlitz.


    ¡°Oh? What did you expect?¡±


    ¡°People have described you as standoffish, but you don¡¯t come off that way to me.¡±


    ¡°Children don¡¯t possess the same guile as adults. For the most part, they are what you see. I like that. Deal with me directly, and you¡¯ll find me far more approachable.¡±


    Merck Vanderoth was nearby, and Lord Morlitz noticed that he shook his head ever so slightly.


    ¡°I wonder what that¡¯s about,¡± he thought.

 Chapter 23 - Good-natured Subterfuge

    Fifteenth of Learning 1142


    The evening had gone as expected. Striker had answered countless questions, often with intentionally contradictory answers. She expected that some of the nobles would compare notes, but since she wasn¡¯t working with a fixed story, answering every question differently was easier than trying to keep her story straight. It wouldn¡¯t be long before people realized she was making things up, but that was the beauty about nobles. No one was going to call a princess on it. It would just feed the frenzy, and people would remain curious.


    Merck Vanderoth had been absolutely certain that none of the boys he had met that night was the one he was looking for. Not surprising, considering it was only their first outing. They had another set for the next day, a lunch this time, less formal and hopefully shorter. It may have been fun, but it was exhausting.


    Striker had returned to the Wanderer¡¯s Rest quite late but, in spite of that, couldn¡¯t sleep. She was too wound up. They had accomplished their goal, and she¡¯d had a lot of fun but could see this wearing on her after a few weeks, maybe even sooner. Yet they couldn¡¯t afford to slow down. It was a big world. After they toured Karmenon, they¡¯d have to swing south to Twyl, unless Andara had rich looking nobles. She hoped not. Andara was huge. And it could take months to get even that far. If the boy they were looking for was in Death''s Doorstep or gods forbid Loralei, it could take years.  Was she really up for that?


    What if the boy they were looking for was in the Fellowship? No one went there. Well, no one with an expectation of returning. She¡¯d heard all sorts of mad stories about the place and didn¡¯t believe any of them. Of course it was unlikely that would be the culmination of their long search. After all, it was a very small area with a tiny population. No, the Fellowship was unlikely to be their final destination.


    They were searching for one small boy in a very large world and, while there were admittedly less nobles than other people, there would still be hundreds if not thousands of potential targets. Surely there had to be a way to narrow down the search.


    She wracked her brain but couldn¡¯t think of anything. She found herself thinking of the paintings she has seen at Lord Morlitz¡¯s mansion. She really did like art. She wondered why they kept running through her mind. A room filled with paintings. Landscapes, seascapes, there were all sorts of paintings in that room. Everything except portraits.


    She had been lying in bed but now sat up. Portraits. Nobles and rich people commissioned portraits. There were guild chapters in most major cities and there were mages in those guilds that could cast spells such as Far Sight, allowing others to see through their eyes. She had to talk to Aranya. It could cut down the travel time immensely. The question was, did she want to do that?


    As of now the Misfits had steady employ. This was a paying job. But what would happen when they found the boy? There was no way to know. She didn¡¯t believe that even Merck knew what would happen. And she still wasn¡¯t convinced the boy existed.


    It would be far faster and cheaper to search portraits rather than travel all over the world. And if they found a portrait that matched, they could then just travel to that one place. It was perfect.


    Having gotten that far, she felt she might be able to relax enough to get to sleep, but it wasn¡¯t the case. She kept going through the thought process over and over again. She tried to consider every variable; what  could happen, what could go wrong, what affect any given path would have on the team and her place in it. With so many unknowns, it was all just guess work, and that was the real problem.


    The Undead King had already cost her so much more than she had been willing to pay, and going back to Death¡¯s Doorstep, if that was in fact where they were to end up, terrified her. She would do what she had to, because she had no choice, but there would be a price. There was always a price, and she¡¯d already paid so much. She felt tears sting her eyes for the first time in years and there, alone in her room, she let them come. She had been so alone for so long, and she¡¯d finally found a home with the Misfits. She had come this far to get away from her past, but her current mission might take her right back to where it began, and that she couldn¡¯t risk. And yet, for so many reasons, she couldn¡¯t abandon her role in this. If there was even a chance that Merck Vanderoth was the genuine article, she¡¯d have to see it through. And if her team found out about her? No matter how much they liked her, and she had no doubt they did, there were some sins even the Misfits of Karmenon wouldn¡¯t be able to forgive.


    *


    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Chari had been dreaming, but something had woken her. Someone had knocked on the door, probably for the second time. It felt too early. She clambered out of bed, pulled on a robe, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and opened it. Outside stood a matronly lady she had never seen before.


    ¡°Good morning, Princess Chari. I¡¯m here to measure you for your dress.¡±


    ¡°My dress?¡±


    ¡°Your wedding dress.¡±


    Chari looked at her incredulously. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just about six, but I was instructed to wake you before your practice begins, though honestly I don¡¯t know why a princess would need to practice as much as you¡­¡±


    ¡°There will be no dress.¡±


    Chari shut the door, resisting the temptation to slam it. Still, she was too angry to go back to sleep. A dress? A royal wedding? There was no time for that. There was no energy for that. She fumed and paced for a while, then pulled on some clothes.


    Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door.


    ¡°Come in, mother,¡± said Chari.


    Queen Rhea opened the door and entered, closing it behind her. She stared at Chari for a moment, opened her mouth to speak, but Chari cut her off.


    ¡°No royal wedding, mother. A small wedding. Private. Preferably today.¡±


    ¡°Today! Chari, this is your wedding. It¡¯s the biggest day of your life. If you don¡¯t have a full royal wedding, you¡¯ll regret it for the rest of your life.¡±


    ¡°No, mother. If I don¡¯t have a full royal wedding, you¡¯ll regret it. Do you know what I¡¯ll regret? If I don¡¯t train hard enough and something happens to Eric or Dahr. Why are the kids the only ones who seem to be taking this threat seriously?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, Chari, you¡¯re just a low level warrior. How big a threat do you think the gods will have you face.¡±


    ¡°Most likely? We¡¯ll be fighting undead.¡±


    ¡°Undead? Chari, what makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°Because that¡¯s what the gods have been training us to do.¡±


    Her mother started to talk and stopped. For a long moment, she stood there, dumbfounded. But Queen Rhea wasn¡¯t one to remain mute for long. ¡°Then I forbid you to be involved. If I¡¯d known. Chari, you can¡¯t fight undead.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already fought undead, mom. I¡¯ve killed them in the Other Realm. So many that I thought they would never stop coming. We¡¯re being trained for something and only that training is going to keep me alive.¡±


    Chari watched the transformation as she had so many times before. Concerned mom became implacable mother, whose refusal to allow a specific course of action became something more akin to law than just something she shouldn¡¯t do. But this time, her mother wasn¡¯t in control of this situation. Chari was, by every metric, an adult now, about to be married. Her mother¡¯s wishes were no longer her boundaries. More to the point, her mother wasn¡¯t just going up against her this time, she was attempting to bend the will of the gods.


    ¡°Chari, you¡¯re a Level 1 Warrior. You can¡¯t fight undead, and that¡¯s the end of it.¡±


    ¡°First of all, I¡¯m a Level 4 Warrior. Secondly, I¡¯m pretty sure that if Sheba wants me to do something, and you want me to do something different, Sheba is going to win. This isn¡¯t about protecting me. This is about protecting everybody.¡±


    ¡°Tell me why? Why does it have to be you?¡±


    ¡°Because my goddess said it was so. Are you wiser than her? Do you know more? If not, then there¡¯s not much else to say, is there?¡±


    Her mother¡¯s expression relaxed, but only a bit. She wasn¡¯t giving up, just changing tactics. She¡¯d have made a good warrior.


    ¡°Chari, I understand what you¡¯re saying, but this is your wedding. Whatever else happens in the days to come, we¡¯re talking about the rest of your life. If you miss out on this now, you¡¯ll never get a chance to do it again. At least that¡¯s the hope. Protocol exists for a reason...¡±


    Chari cut her off. ¡°There is no protocol for what¡¯s going on here. That means regular customs and protocols don¡¯t apply or at least they shouldn¡¯t. I¡¯m not celebrating a marriage. I¡¯m doing what my goddess instructed me to do. Fortunately she instructed me to marry Eric and not someone I don¡¯t like and respect, but if she had, I¡¯d be doing that too, because Sheba knows more about the situation than I do, so I¡¯m forced to trust her.¡±


    Her mother looked surprised. ¡°Forced to trust her? Your own goddess?¡±


    ¡°Only a fool trusts blindly, mother. Whatever her agenda, keeping me alive isn¡¯t the end game. It¡¯s something she¡¯ll do if she can. Keeping me alive is up to me, Eric, Dahr and Kalutu. And that means training is all I have time for. I¡¯ll make time to walk to the temple to marry Eric, and then, we¡¯re not going to have a honeymoon. We¡¯re not going to stop and consummate the marriage. We¡¯re not going to go and have a party and invite the nobility. We¡¯re going to pick up our weapons, and we¡¯re going to start training. And we¡¯re going to keep training every day, every hour we possibly can. And when we¡¯re not training with weapons, we¡¯ll be learning other things that might keep us alive. Do you understand what I¡¯m saying to you?¡±


    Her mother nodded.


    ¡°Good, because if I see another dress maker walk through that door, I¡¯ll be practicing combat on her. To be clear, there will be no party, no feast, no celebration. There will be a wedding, preferably today, so I can get on with training, so I can stay alive and maybe, just maybe, bear you a grandchild one day.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡±


    ¡°Then let me get on with it.¡±


    ¡°Your father isn¡¯t going to be happy.¡±


    ¡°Is that something that can happen? I hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±


    Her mother chuckled, reluctantly it seemed to Chari. Her face was pale and her blue eyes showed concern, but she pushed that aside to support her daughter. ¡°Train then. As hard as you can. And whatever we can do to support you, your father and I will do.¡±


    Chari smiled. ¡°Thanks, mom. I really do want to survive this. I finally feel like I¡¯m doing something important. Something I was meant to do.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go taking foolish risks.¡±


    ¡°When have I ever...never mind. Don¡¯t answer that. I¡¯m going to go wake Eric. He has a wedding to prepare for.¡±


    Her mother shook her head, hugged her tight, and then pulled back to study her.


    ¡°You¡¯ve changed.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve noticed.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°It took a while, but I got there. Go with Sheba, my daughter.¡±


    ¡°Like I have a choice,¡± replied Chari, but she was grinning when she said it.


    *


    Aranya Freesh sat in a secure room with the Misfits of Karmenon. For once, she was without her companions.


    ¡°It¡¯s just not feasible,¡± she was saying to Striker. ¡°There¡¯s so much that could go wrong. First of all, if we¡¯re trying to keep this secret, I¡¯ll need a reason to have guild personnel infiltrate noble houses to send back images of portraits. It¡¯s not my chapter so I¡¯d have to convince guild masters in other jurisdictions to do this. How do you suppose I do that?¡±


    Before anyone could answer she continued.


    ¡°The cost of a mage capable of casting the spells you¡¯re describing would be quite high and there aren¡¯t that many of them. And of course, portraits might not be displayed in public areas and some nobles might not commission portraits of their children at all. The best we can do is that if you could narrow down the location of where the boy is, even to just one kingdom, but preferably to one city, that could help us speed up the search.¡±


    Striker sighed. ¡°We have no idea of where he is.¡±


    ¡°Then we proceed as planned.¡±


    Striker shook her head. ¡°Do you realize how much time it will take to go to every single country in the world hoping to find one boy?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do, because I¡¯ve thought this through. You¡¯re the one not thinking.¡±


    Striker looked like she was going to retort, but Aranya held up a hand, heading off whatever she was going to say.


    ¡°The Undead problem is something that¡¯s been with us for fifteen years, and there¡¯s no end in sight. The vast majority of kingdoms are forced to keep a garrison at Final Hope, soldiers and commanders that could otherwise be deployed elsewhere. Those garrisons have to be commanded, fed, housed and they need medical supplies. And then there are the soldiers stationed there. Many of the countries they represent are sworn enemies. There¡¯s often political fall out from events that occur in Final Hope. Do you have any idea what that kind of garrison costs annually? It¡¯s an expense that¡¯s been going on since the Undead War, with no end in sight. Yet we can¡¯t afford to remove that deterrent lest the Undead King attack again. It¡¯s a never ending headache. If it takes five years to solve, or even start to solve, it¡¯s nothing. The tiny bit of gold and resources we¡¯ve spent thus far are all but meaningless when taken in context. Every ruler in the world is going to back us if this is real.¡±


    ¡°Every ruler except the Undead King you mean,¡± Striker replied. ¡°Out of curiosity, has anyone actually tried negotiating an end to the hostilities?¡±


    Aranya nodded. ¡°Many messengers have been sent into the Plains of Xarinos under a flag of truce.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°They came back, having been unable to locate the Undead King, or anyone who represents him. At least, that was what we thought, until we realized they were all dead and had returned to spy on us for the Undead King.¡±


    Striker looked perplexed. ¡°How is that possible? Surely if someone was undead, you¡¯d know it. If not casual acquaintances, then family members, spouses, friends¡­ surely someone would have noticed.¡±


    ¡°Not really. They act the same as they did before they left. They don¡¯t look or act like undead.¡±


    ¡°Creepy. So, if we run into one, how do we kill it?¡±


    ¡°The standard response is to burn them or cut off their heads, but the truth is, everything is just a guess. We know so little. Which is why your claims of solving the undead problem, as unlikely as that sounds, are being taken so seriously by the guild. Admittedly, I had my doubts, but when the High Priestess of Iorana for all of Karmenon shows up to vouch for you, it has to be taken seriously.¡±


    Striker looked thoughtful. ¡°And how does anyone know she isn¡¯t undead?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ludicrous. Even if we didn¡¯t know, Iorana would. We can pretty much guarantee that our priests are still themselves, if nothing else.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not nothing. Having someone you know you can trust is pretty big when you consider the implications of what you¡¯ve said. But it doesn¡¯t really help us immediately.¡±


    ¡°The real issue,¡± said Ressssen ¡°is narrowing down where this boy might be.¡± She looked at Merck. ¡°Do you, or your god, have any ideas?¡±


    Merck took on a pained expression. ¡°I have no idea how to begin. I¡¯ve never spoken to my god.¡±


    ¡°Maybe now would be a good time to start,¡± said Striker.


    Merck looked at her uncertainly. ¡°I have no idea how to even begin.¡±


    ¡°Just talk to your god. Gods are everywhere. They hear everything.¡±


    Aranya knew that the room was so well protected, it would even prevent a priest from contacting his god, but she didn¡¯t say anything. She didn¡¯t believe that anything would come of the attempt anyway, and she wanted to hear specifically what the Priest would ask for. Of all the elements in this story, he was the one that she understood the least. She was hoping that perhaps she would gain some insight into him from what he said.


    Merck nodded, then straightened up in his seat and closed his eyes. ¡°Oh great whoever you are, help us. You want me to find this boy in a very large world. At least let us know in which country this boy is located. I will do as you ask, I only ask for a small bit of aid, so I may fulfill your wish sooner.¡±


    Merck opened his eyes and looked around expectantly. For a moment nothing happened. Then a parrot composed entirely of flame flew into the room through the wall opposite the door.  It landed on the table in front of him. He sat frozen as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. The parrot shifted from foot to foot, turning its head to stare at him through its left eye.


    He stared back, confused and startled, but not as startled as Aranya.


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be able to happen. This room is sealed.¡±


    ¡°Well whoever did it didn¡¯t do a very good job,¡± said the parrot. ¡°You should see if you can get a refund.¡±


    Every eye in the room was on the parrot, but it was Merck who spoke.


    ¡°You can tell us where to find the boy we¡¯re searching for?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. Try Rish in the Kingdom of Twyl.¡±


    ¡°Why would my god tell me this now and not when he asked me to find the boy in the first place?¡±


    The parrot cocked his head to one side, as if considering the question, then answered. ¡°The boy wasn¡¯t yet ready. Now he is. It¡¯s time. Prepare yourselves for the world to change.¡±


    Before anyone could say anything else, the parrot took off and flew back through the wall. No one spoke for a minute after it was gone, then everyone started talking at once. Aranya again held up her hand and every conversation ground to a halt.


    ¡°What in the name of the gods was that?¡±


    ¡°It appeared to be a flaming parrot,¡± said Merck.


    ¡°Aranya,¡± said Striker, ¡°you said if we knew where to look, we could use magic to find a portrait of the boy. Against all the odds we know where to look.¡±


    Aranya nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll have to contact the guild master in Rish. I¡¯ll explain what I can of the situation. It¡¯ll cost me, but I¡¯m willing to pay for that now that I know where we¡¯re looking.¡±


    ¡°And after that?¡± asked Ressssen.


    ¡°Then we will have your team portaled to Rish. Because even mounted it¡¯ll take too long to get there. A part of me still had doubts until today, but that parrot did what nothing should have been able to. Even gods can¡¯t hear us talking when the door is closed.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± asked Striker. ¡°How did the High Priest of Iorana know to come here that first day if the goddess wasn¡¯t privy to our conversation? And if you knew that the shielding on this room would even block out the gods, why didn¡¯t you say something before Merck started praying?¡±


    Aranya nodded as if she had anticipated someone asking those questions. ¡°When you went out to summon Stalker, you were no longer in the room and the goddess knew what you knew. Iorana¡¯s Temple is very close and the High Priestess doesn¡¯t have to walk. She has a portal tome to get her here if she needs to be here quickly. As to your second question, I wanted to see what Merck would say. He¡¯s the biggest unknown in this entire situation. If it didn¡¯t work, I could have always suggested you try praying in a room that¡¯s not shielded.¡±


    Striker seemed dissatisfied with her answer about Merck, but let the matter drop. Instead she focused on the other issue. ¡°So this room isn¡¯t really proof against the gods.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be. The gods seldom meddle in the affairs of the sentient races. When they do, it¡¯s because their own interests are being challenged, usually by other gods.¡±


    ¡°Wait, are you saying that we¡¯re likely involved in a contest between gods.¡±


    Aranya shrugged. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the first time.¡±


    Everyone stared at her, but she ignored them and stood up.


    ¡°Everyone prepare what you need to travel, but don¡¯t expect this to happen today. Getting the right people in place and wrangling an invite to the palace and other nobles homes could still take a while. Rish is a sizable city.¡±


    They all watched as Aranya, without waiting for a reply, made her way past the table and out the door.


    ¡°You heard her,¡± said Ressssen. ¡°Whatever business you have here, finish it up. We don¡¯t know how much longer we have.¡±


    Striker nodded. ¡°I have a lot of appointments to cancel. We¡¯re going to leave behind some very pissed off nobles.¡±


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a bad thing,¡± said Garne.


    Striker grinned at him, then stood and gave a mental command to Stalker to follow.


    ¡°See you guys later.¡±


    Merck remained staring at the table where the flaming parrot had sat just a short time before.


    ¡°It worked. It really worked.¡±


    ¡°Well, you are a Priest,¡± said Borin. ¡°Prayer is a part of the job.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe. But most priests know who they¡¯re praying to.¡±


    No one had an answer for that.


    *


    King Terrence and Queen Treya sat on their thrones, eyes locked on Queen Rhea who stood before them, clearly upset. Her words came in a rush of emotion that neither had witnessed before.


    ¡°Chari wants a wedding today. No dresses. No formality. Just a simple ceremony in the Temple of Sheba with no party after. And she told me they¡¯d been training on undead in the Other Realm. What is a Level 4 Warrior doing fighting the undead? For that matter, how did she manage to level so fast? She¡¯s going to get herself killed. You¡¯re parents. You understand. Surely there is something you can do to stop this. You rule here. They¡¯ll listen to you.¡±


    King Terrence started to respond, but his wife raised a single finger without removing her hand from the arm of her throne. He stopped and half nodded for her to answer.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Queen Rhea, truly I am. But we serve Sheba here, and Sheba requires this sacrifice of us. Our sons, Eric and Dahr will do what is necessary because Sheba has asked it of us. We need no other reason. She has graced this room with her presence. She has told me what to do. I can not think that she means to sacrifice our children, but if she does, as our goddess, then I will have to live with that consequence.  Being sworn to Sheba doesn¡¯t mean obeying her only when it¡¯s easy. It means obeying when it¡¯s difficult too. I wish there was something we could do, but our hands are tied. Great good still might come of this. I have to believe that.¡±


    Queen Rhea stared at Queen Treya as if she could not believe her ears. ¡°They¡¯re your sons!¡±


    Treya nodded. ¡°They are. And Sheba is my goddess. When my sons see our actions, they will learn to do right even when it is hard. And Sheba willing, they will return to us. I have to believe they will.¡±


    ¡°Truly?¡±


    ¡°Truly. Sheba would not allow our sons to walk to their death without a fighting chance.¡±


    ¡°And the wedding?¡± asked Queen Rhea.


    King Terrence answered this time. ¡°If they want the wedding today, let us have it today. It was foreordained anyway. There is nothing we could do to stop it. Let it be done and over with, with no celebration and no fanfare. Perhaps, when whatever task set out for them ends, we can celebrate without the weight we¡¯ve been asked to carry.¡±


    Queen Rhea looked from the queen to the king and nodded. ¡°Again you surprise me, King Terrence.¡±


    He looked amused. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°You are thoughtful in your actions. You lead by reason, not force. After so many years with my husband, I had forgotten that was possible.¡±


    ¡°Reason, in its own way, is a kind of force. If people can see the way clearly, you don¡¯t have to force them forward. They will come to it on their own and be grateful you allowed them to make the choice.¡±


    ¡°And if they choose otherwise, despite reason?¡±


    ¡°I find the gods have a way of punishing those that ignore them. That¡¯s the real issue here. If you do not do what the goddess asks, it¡¯s not just disobeying Sheba. You¡¯re risking your children, for the gods see what we do not. The gods know what is coming. We do not. And it may yet be that following Sheba¡¯s will is the only way to save Princess Chari, where disobeying her might lead to her death. If the undead are stirring, none of us are safe. Not here, not anywhere. Perhaps the only wisdom we have now is to surrender our will to those who know more. Because I am only a man.¡±


    ¡°You are a king.¡±


    ¡°Kings are only men. Men with metal on their head, but men nonetheless. We bleed. We sweat. We worry about our children. We make mistakes. And we die.  Being a king is just being a man who is responsible for other men. I¡¯m still just a man. A fallible man. I will never know as much as my goddess does, so I can not contradict her. Well I can, but it would be foolish.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I guess I need to go talk to Leonid.¡±


    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± said Queen Treya. ¡°If there¡¯s anything I can do to help, just ask.¡±


    ¡°You know. I think I might have an idea.¡±


    *


    King Leonid was on a palace balcony looking out over the courtyard. His wife joined him, looking agitated.


    ¡°Leonid, Chari wants to move up the wedding, and I think it¡¯s a good idea. It¡¯s what the goddess wants, but I don¡¯t think King Terrence and Queen Treya will allow it.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean they won¡¯t allow it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s their oldest son. They want a royal ceremony which takes time to plan. But the truth is, I think the children would be safer if they got married and got back to training. Sheba wants this and she knows more about the situation than we do. I¡¯m worried if we start setting a ceremony and go through rehearsals and dress fittings it will disrupt the training schedule.¡±


    ¡°And King Terrence thinks that he can just ignore the goddess? After she visited his throne room?¡±


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d see the wisdom. But what can we do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, my dear. I¡¯ll handle this. Those kids will be married today and that¡¯s final.¡±


    Without waiting for a reply, King Leonid stormed out the door.


    Jerish had been standing off to the side through the entire encounter, though he had said not a word...until now.


    ¡°That was deftly done.¡±


    Queen Rhea whirled, not having noticed him, then chuckled. ¡°Today isn¡¯t the day for conflict. My daughter marries today.¡±


    Jerish bowed low. ¡°Congratulations, My Queen. I¡¯m sure it will be a lovely wedding.¡±


    ¡°It will be a simple, short ceremony. Nothing more.¡±


    Jerish smiled. ¡°Milady, a lovely wedding has nothing to do with fancy dress, or dancing, or good food. It has to do with raw emotion. The feelings of those watching. The party is for others. The ceremony is for those who truly care, and it¡¯s all that¡¯s really important.¡±


    ¡°How are you only a servant?¡±


    ¡°Am I only a servant?¡±


    The queen laughed. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to keep an eye on you.¡±


    Jerish smiled and went to the railing to look down at the courtyard below. For a long time the two stood there in companionable silence¡­ a welcome moment of respite in what was soon to be a sea of activity. Even a small wedding required some preparation, and they didn¡¯t have much time.  It wasn¡¯t long before King Leonid returned.


    ¡°The wedding will be today.¡±


    ¡°You convinced him.¡±


    ¡°I did. He¡¯s not an unreasonable fellow once you understand what he¡¯s about. I just appealed to his better judgment. He¡¯s a fine king. He just needs to learn to think things through.¡±


    Queen Rhea and Jerish exchanged a smile before she turned to the king and embraced him.


    ¡°Thank you, my love. I knew I could depend on you.¡±


    When they separated and returned inside to begin the wedding preparations, she stole a glance at Jerish, who was looking at her speculatively. For a moment, only a moment, she wondered what it would be like to be with the servant on a more intimate level, but then she came to her senses. Jerish was far too close to her husband for her to even consider opening that particular door.

 Chapter 24 - Information Revealed

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Aranya Freesh sat in her office, which was warded against scrying. She sat behind an immaculately neat wooden desk, polished to such a shine, it looked like it might have never touched paperwork. Her leather chair was comfortable but not too comfortable, nor were the two empty chairs across from her. The door was locked, so no one could intrude. She was attempting to establish direct communication with her counterpart in Rish, or rather, a mage she had hired was attempting this. She knew when the spell was complete, she would feel it.


    It was all happening so fast. Too Fast. They had only just learned the location of the boy they were searching for from an impossible flaming parrot. Which led to her using a message spell to set up contact with Andeon Walsh, head of the Rish chapter of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Normally such messages are responded to in hours, not minutes, but apparently she had caught him at just the right time. And now, she was attempting to arrange passage to Rish for the Misfits of Karmenon. No one was this lucky. The gods had to be involved. And she was a part of it. She felt fortunate, because she didn¡¯t deserve it. No one did. There wasn¡¯t a person alive that could honestly say that this wasn¡¯t above their pay grade.


    Though they had never spoken directly, she knew Andeon¡¯s reputation and had little doubt he knew hers as well. This wasn¡¯t conceit on her part. Aranya¡¯s fame ran further than the borders of Karmenon, not only for her reputation as a guild mistress, but as an adventurer in her own right. Her list of accomplishments was well known enough that anyone who had attained the rank of guild master would be aware of her exploits. Aranya used her reputation as she used any other tool at her disposal, which is to say efficiently.


    The linking spell she was waiting on was one that very few people could cast, and the cost of maintaining it was quite high from both a mana usage point of view and a monetary one, so the conversation would have to stay brief and to the point.


    Message spells had been used to arrange the contact, so that both parties could be alone and warded at the scheduled time. Secrecy was of the utmost importance now. As it was, Aranya didn¡¯t like widening the circle of people who knew about Merck Vanderoth. She was glad it was Andeon she had to deal with. He ran his chapter much the same way she did hers. Efficiently. She hoped the reality matched his reputation, because she was going to have to trust him, a thing that did not come easily to her. She felt the front part of her head expand, though she knew it wasn¡¯t physically changing. It was an opening up of sorts that was impossible to describe, but it was the kind of thing one felt when they were just starting to get a headache.


    ¡°Can you hear me, Guild Master Walsh?¡±


    ¡°I can. To what do I owe this honor?¡±


    ¡°I have a situation you might be able to help with. You are warded against eavesdropping?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Good. What I am about to tell you is for you and you alone. You¡¯ll understand why shortly. I have no doubt there are those close to you you will tell, your trusted inner circle. I can¡¯t stop you from that, but I urge you to extreme caution. You will know why when you hear the story. It will sound incredible, but it is all true. I have verified the parts that can be verified myself.¡±


    ¡°Intriguing. You have my attention.¡±


    ¡°A short time ago, a man who had been a Level 4 Swindler tied to the god of thieves suddenly changed both classes and gods. He is now a Level 1 Priest of a different god, though he does not know which. He has lost all his previous skills. He also had a vision in which he was told what needed to happen to end the Undead Threat.¡±


    ¡°Impossible.¡±


    ¡°So I thought, but it was verified by the High Priestess of Iorana here, a deeply respected member of the community.¡±


    ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s searching for a boy, who we recently learned is in Rish. A noble. Black hair, about thirteen to fourteen years old, but that¡¯s just a guess. Apparently this boy is key to the entire thing. This Priest needs to find him.¡±


    ¡°Intriguing. We had a very strange encounter with a young man that fits that description only a day or two ago. He¡¯s a prince, son of King Terrence.¡±


    ¡°Prince Eric?¡±


    ¡°No, his other son, Prince Dahr.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware he had a second son.¡±


    ¡°A bastard, but formally acknowledged now. He registered a guild with us called Lost Wisdom.¡±


    ¡°Interesting name. Do you think he might be the boy we¡¯re searching for?¡±


    ¡°He was able to perform inexplicable acts, including casting a spell without incantation.¡±


    ¡°Not unheard of, but not something a young man could do. Only the most powerful mages in the world could cast something like that. Tier 3 at least.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡±


    ¡°What spell did he cast?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the name of it, but it summoned a flaming parrot that spoke. Quite the trick.¡±


    There was a long silence.


    ¡°Guild Master Freesh, are you there?¡±


    Aranya preferred the title guild mistress but didn¡¯t take the time to correct him. She was too stunned at the revelation that the boy for whom they searched had seemingly summoned the parrot that had been able to invalidate the protection spells on her most secure rooms.


    ¡°Yes, I am. We had a visit from that same parrot.¡±


    ¡°What? Impossible.¡±


    ¡°It seems that the boundary between what is possible and what is not has moved. This Priest is traveling with a guild team who has a Beast Master with them. She went up six levels in one night. She jumped from a Level 4 Hunter to a Level 1 Beast Master.¡±


    ¡°At the risk of repeating myself, it¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°And yet she has a pet kreve that she controls completely. I¡¯ve seen them together myself. And you well know that no Level 1 Beast Master could tame such a creature.¡±


    ¡°I do. What is it you want of me?¡±


    ¡°If this prince is the person we are after, you¡¯ve already done it. I¡¯d like to arrange a portal to Rish from here for the team that brought this matter to my attention, and let them get on with whatever it is they¡¯re going to do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to help with that.¡±


    ¡°The name of the team is the Misfits of Karmenon. The leader is a serpent lord named Ressssen. The Beast Master, Striker, will be with them, as will the Priest, Merck Vanderoth. It¡¯s an interesting group.¡±


    ¡°I look forward to meeting them. You have a chirkir operator ready?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll get set up and send you a message spell when we¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have my chirkir placed on a priority standby then.¡±


    ¡°Much appreciated. It was good to meet you.¡±


    ¡°You as well.¡±


    As soon as she stood up, the spell was broken. So many coincidences. This had to be the work of the gods. Nothing else would explain it. At least the guild master in Rish had knowledge of the team and what they were doing should they need support. To be sure, she¡¯d send a message formally requesting that they be given whatever assistance required, but it wouldn¡¯t be necessary.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    No guild master in the world would turn away a potential solution to the undead problem.


    *


    Eric lay in his bed, unmoving. He was having one of his nightmares. He intentionally hadn¡¯t taken his medicine as he normally would have, and so he returned to his dream where he lay motionless, eyes closed, barely able to feel his body, listening to the ever-present beeping. That¡¯s all there was. Again he strained to open his eyes and again, nothing happened. There were no voices this time. No one talking. There was nothing but darkness and a singular persistent sound that he could name but didn¡¯t understand.


    He felt like he wasn¡¯t alone but could discern no reason why he felt that way. It was almost as if he could sense a presence nearby. Suzanna entered his mind, which was odd because he didn¡¯t even know who she was. She was a name with no associated image. How did he know her? How could he know her?


    Was this like his other nightmares before? He couldn¡¯t remember them. He had been younger then. Was this a nightmare at all? Nothing was happening. Nothing was after him. It was less like a dream and more as if he had traveled, but to where?


    For a long time he lay there, and then he heard rustling. Movement. Someone fussing over him. Moving his head on the pillow. Why couldn¡¯t he open his eyes? He wanted to see. From the touch it felt like a woman¡¯s hands, and again he thought of Suzanna. How did he know that name? Who was she? Why was he here? Was it really the same place he had once dreamt about?


    He heard humming. A woman¡¯s voice. He felt a pang and realized he missed her. The feeling of knowing and not knowing overwhelmed him. He strained his mind to try to remember anything about those old dreams, but a combination of time and medication had done the job. The shreds of memory he did have were elusive, and there weren¡¯t enough of them to form a tapestry. He focused on the tune. She used to sing that to him. What was the name of it? He couldn¡¯t remember. But snatches of it came to him, a child¡¯s song that he was sure Prince Eric had never heard...not in the waking world.


    I would swim through clouds for you, I would drink the sea, I would hold the world for you, if you¡¯d just love me


    He could find no meaning in those words. Nothing to even tell him he was in another world. Things like the clouds, the sea and the world were something every reality would have. There was nothing there to verify he was in another world¡­ nothing except the beeping.


    Then another sound intruded. It was distant at first, but then it got louder and then he was physically pulled out of bed by an irate Chari, who wasn¡¯t about to wait for him to wake up.


    ¡°Wha...what¡¯s going on?¡± he asked, realizing that she had indeed pulled him off the bed. At least his top half. His feet and ankles were still on the bed and his legs leaned against it.


    ¡°Up, sleepy head. I have Kalutu waking Dahr.¡±


    ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s early, but we have to start early today.¡±


    Resigned, he pulled his legs off the bed and made a bold attempt at getting to his feet. Chari helped him up. He wasn¡¯t embarrassed to be in his night clothes in front of her, though she¡¯d never seen him in them before.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Because we¡¯re getting married today.¡±


    That drew him up short. ¡°Married?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you know. Like Sheba wanted us to. Unless you don¡¯t want to marry me.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean yes. Dammit, of course I want to marry you, but today?¡±


    ¡°Mmmhmm. Get it out of the way. We have a lot to do.¡±


    ¡°Chari, where is this coming from?¡±


    ¡°I cost us a day of training. I brought us back into the Other Realm, and we got nothing for it. But it¡¯s coming. We both know it, even if we don¡¯t know what it is. I don¡¯t want to use the word but it feels like¡­¡±


    Eric finished the sentence for her. ¡°Destiny.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°You feel it too.¡±


    ¡°So do I,¡± said a sleepy voice from behind them. ¡°But then, I¡¯ve known it was coming for a while.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°I told you. I have visions.¡±


    ¡°You did tell us that,¡± said Chari. ¡°Though you haven¡¯t ever told us about those visions.¡±


    ¡°Can we move this to the anteroom?¡± asked Eric. ¡°My bed is disarrayed, I¡¯m disheveled, and I need to get dressed.¡±


    Chari smiled gently. ¡°You know, after tonight, I¡¯m going to be seeing you in the mornings.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re moving in here?¡±


    Chari looked at him like he was mad. ¡°No, silly. We¡¯ll get our own chambers of course. Your room isn¡¯t big enough for the two of us.¡±


    Eric looked around. He didn¡¯t see why not. ¡°What of Dahr?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll keep his room, I assume. It¡¯s up to your parents really. Or Leata. Anyway, it¡¯ll get taken care of.¡±


    Eric looked nervously at Dahr, who shrugged. ¡°I think we have bigger things on our mind, Eric. You don¡¯t have to worry about me. I¡¯m not a little kid anymore. And I¡¯m not alone. I have Kalutu...and George.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you should probably get his real name one of these days.¡±


    Dahr shrugged again. ¡°We have bigger problems than that too. Let¡¯s get dressed and find Leata. We¡¯ll spent some time with her while we eat, then we can track down Maynor for combat practice.


    They all agreed, and Chari returned to the anteroom with Kalutu.


    ¡°So you¡¯re getting married today. Will you be marrying Prince Eric alone, or both of the princes?¡±


    Chari stared at him. ¡°What? You can only marry one person, Kalutu.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they said about familiars and masters, so I had to wonder.¡±


    She studied the familiar. Was he smiling at her? She wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°Kalutu, did you just make a joke?¡±


    ¡°It was my first. What did you think?¡±


    Chari shook her head, grinning. ¡°Good job, Kalutu.¡±


    For a brief moment, Chari thought about what he¡¯d said. Marrying both of them. In so many ways they really were like one person, and here was Eric, on his wedding day, worrying about if Dahr would be lonely. She really wasn¡¯t marrying just Eric. She was marrying Eric and his bizarre relationship with his half brother and former servant. It was something she hadn¡¯t really thought about, but she thought about it now.


    Chari had grown up as an only child. There were servants and other noble¡¯s kids, but she was independent. Had always been so. But Dahr and Eric had a real connection. Normally she would expect her relationship with her husband to be more important than any other, but Dahr wasn¡¯t just important to Eric, was he? He was becoming important to her. He¡¯d registered Lost Wisdom for the three of them, so if nothing else they were members of the same team. But it was more than that.


    Chari didn¡¯t really see Dahr as separate from Eric. She knew they were different people, but she had met them together, and they seemed to come as a package deal. Which meant in a very real sense, she was sort of marrying both of them. Even their familiar served them both. She wasn¡¯t sure how she felt about all this, and wished she had thought about it sooner...not that it mattered. Sheba had told her she was marrying Eric. She felt like she should be marrying him. And if she was sort of married to Dahr too, well, that wasn¡¯t too bad. She liked him. He wasn¡¯t like Eric.


    He was mischievous, didn¡¯t think things through as much, and did what needed to be done. And it¡¯s not like she¡¯d be sleeping with him. He¡¯d just be there when she woke up, with that stupid half grin and his easy going charm.


    What was she thinking? She was marrying Eric, why was she thinking about Dahr? It was as if she couldn¡¯t think about either of them without the other. This was going to be a long life. At least, she hoped that was the case. Because she really did feel like everything would be coming to a head very soon. A shudder passed through her body. She looked up to see if Kalutu had noticed, but he was sitting at a desk, writing something.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°I¡¯m just jotting down some ideas. Keeping a record.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could write.¡±


    ¡°Apparently it¡¯s one of my skills as a familiar.¡±


    ¡°Does it help? The writing I mean.¡±


    ¡°It does. It helps give me perspective. So much of what¡¯s going on is still strange to me.¡± He turned to look at her, without moving from the desk. She felt her skin prickle. No human could turn their head that far.


    ¡°Well, carry on then.¡±


    She went to check on Eric, because being alone with her own thoughts at the moment wasn¡¯t quite working for her. And she wanted to get going. She glanced back at Dahr¡¯s door. Marrying both of them? I am so screwed.


    Then she chuckled and knocked on the door just as Eric was opening it. Dahr was only a moment behind.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get going,¡± said Dahr, excitedly. ¡°I¡¯m hungry. We should stop by the kitchen first, see if we can¡¯t snag a breakfast pastry.¡±


    Kalutu left his work to dry and stood to follow.


    The four of them left the room. There were two guards standing down the corridor. When the four emerged, the guards looked quickly away and started walking. Eric sighed.


    ¡°Who are they?¡± asked Chari.


    ¡°The guards my father said he wouldn¡¯t put on us. He¡¯s worried.¡±


    ¡°Do you blame him?¡± asked Chari.


    Eric shook his head. ¡°Of course not. But they¡¯re not going to do any good, I fear. Whatever is coming is coming for us, specifically.¡±


    Chari nodded.


    ¡°His name is Merck,¡± Dahr said.


    ¡°What?¡± Both Eric and Chari turned to face him.


    ¡°Merck Vanderoth. He¡¯s probably not coming alone, but he¡¯s one of them.¡±


    ¡°And how do you know that?¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± said Dahr, a bit peeved. ¡°Visions.¡±


    ¡°And who is this Merck Vanderoth?¡± asked Chari, stopping and crossing her arms, forcing the princes to stop.


    ¡°He used to be a Level 4 Swindler, but he¡¯s not anymore.¡±


    ¡°What is he now?¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s a Priest of George.¡±


    Chari was getting annoyed. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think this was worth mentioning?¡±


    ¡°Was it? How does knowing it help us?¡±


    Eric laughed, which annoyed Chari even more. ¡°He¡¯s got you there. Knowing the name of who¡¯s coming isn¡¯t really all that helpful.¡±


    ¡°Was he really a Swindler?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Dahr, ¡°but I think he¡¯s better now.¡±


    ¡°Oh good,¡± said Chari. ¡°Remind me to hide my jewelry.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not going to steal from you. George asked him to find me.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Dahr looked sheepish. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m supposed to say.¡±


    Chari was getting angry now. ¡°Dahr, George said we could share information, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    Dahr winced. ¡°He did, but you¡¯re really not going to like this.¡±


    Now Eric got involved. ¡°Out with it, Dahr.¡±


    ¡°I think we¡¯re supposed to solve the undead problem.¡±


    Both Chari and Eric stared at him, mouths gaping. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think this was worth telling us?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t understand it,¡± Dahr said defensively. ¡°And I still don¡¯t. How could the three of us end a threat that entire armies can¡¯t end?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Eric, ¡°The solution to the undead problem doesn¡¯t require an army at all. Maybe we¡¯re supposed to discover something?¡±


    ¡°But why us?¡± asked Chari.


    Dahr looked annoyed. ¡°See, this is exactly why I didn¡¯t say anything. You¡¯d spend all your time dwelling on this while we should be training.¡±


    Frustrated, Dahr continued quickly down the corridor. Eric and Chari hurried to catch up.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Dahr. We¡¯re not upset with you,¡± Eric half-yelled.


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± muttered Chari, under her breath.

 Chapter 25 - Training Day

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Leata stared at her four pupils, expression unreadable. She had met them in the kitchen, far earlier than she expected to see them, and they insisted on a lesson while they ate, apparently because they decided today there would be a wedding. She didn¡¯t know whether to be impressed or annoyed. As it stood, she was both.


    ¡°So, since you¡¯re arranging the world around you these days, would you like to tell me what I should be teaching?¡±


    She was certain the three young royals didn¡¯t miss the sarcasm she had allowed to slip into her voice, which didn¡¯t prevent Dahr from answering.


    ¡°Actually, I was curious about King Mavros and his victory over Twyl. How did he get past the walls? It seems impossible. Everyone says so.¡±


    Leata nodded. ¡°That¡¯s as good a place as any to begin today¡¯s lesson. One point before I start. King Mavros didn¡¯t win a victory over Twyl, because it didn¡¯t yet exist. King Mavros founded Twyl after he defeated the Kingdom of Lethe, or at least the city of Rish.  As he took territory, he renamed the Kingdom Twyl, which in the Andaran tongue means victory.


    ¡°As to how he won, Mavros had a lot of advantages.  His army was vast, not made of just one tribe, but almost every tribe in Andara. A good portion of the Andaran population had marched with him, not just men either. In Andara, men and women are considered equals. Both could become warriors. Lethe only allowed men to fight in the war, making their army significantly smaller.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s the same as Twyl,¡± protested Eric.


    ¡°Now yes, but not before Mavros¡¯ victory, which you¡¯ll remember was against Lethe. Lethe was ruled differently and founded at a different time. Twyl was more...enlightened, for lack of a better word. Many of Twyl¡¯s customs originally come from Andara, as you might imagine. In addition to his larger army, Mavros also had a great mind for strategy. No amount of people could have gotten through the gates without siege weapons, which he didn¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± interrupted Eric. ¡°He didn¡¯t have siege weapons?¡±


    ¡°He did not. Nor did he lay siege to the city.¡±


    ¡°Then how did he get through the gates?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯ll stop interrupting I¡¯ll explain. King Mavros¡¯s army was too large to hide. Scouts were able to track the army easily as soon as it got into Lethe. But what no one knew was that King Mavros had sent hundreds of men before him in the guise of merchant caravans and craftsman to come to the city, long before he got there. He had hundreds of his soldiers inside.  No one realized, because they were spread out. They kept in communication through a network of messengers, with each group knowing one or two people from the other groups.¡±


    ¡°They had money with them, mostly taken from those already killed in Andara, before the rout. There were enough funds for an extended stay, and they settled down in various inns across the city, waiting for news of the Andaran army, which everyone was talking about. When the army stopped just out of range of the walls and started building fires at night, every one of the Andarans inside the city knew about it. It was all anyone was talking about. The army was visible from anywhere on the east wall and was so vast, it could have surrounded the city. Instead, the men that had been waiting inside converged on the West gate, which had been the plan all along. With almost the entire guard stacked on the opposite side of the city, there was barely any opposition. The Andarans already in the city took the west gate and opened it, allowing more soldiers into the city through a gate King Mavros¡¯ forces now controlled.¡±


    ¡°You see Mavros had divided his force, quietly sending his men and women around the city in the dark, so no one could see them. A significant number were waiting outside when the gate was taken. Once they were in, they left the gate open and they ran to the east gate and took it with their superior numbers, after which they opened it to the main army. Both the East and West gates had fallen before any kind of alarm could be sounded. The entire Andaran force made their way into the city. It was too slow to be considered a charge, since they had to move through a choke point. It¡¯s said the city had already fallen before all the Andarans had made it through the gate.


    ¡°Lethe wasn¡¯t prepared for such tactics. They were not only over-confident that their walls could keep out the Andaran barbarians, but they were disorganized, because they had never prepared for a battle inside of Rish.  In a very short time, the entire city was taken, except for the palace itself.


    ¡°When King Herrold of Lethe tried to flee, he was cut down. After that, the defenders gave up the castle, not because they were disloyal, but because they felt abandoned and had no leadership.  King Mavros had taken Rish.


    ¡°Other cities in Lethe weren¡¯t as well defended. In fact, Lethe had relatively few cities. They had various nobles in castles elsewhere, surrounded by farms, but these holdings weren¡¯t a match for the Andaran Army.


    ¡°People surrendered because they were terrified of Mavros after the bloodbath that had occurred at the capitol. They didn¡¯t have the stomach for it. They gave up the kingdom, because they were too scared to fight for it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s awful,¡± said Chari. ¡°They deserved to lose the kingdom if they wouldn¡¯t defend it.¡±


    ¡°A lot of people feel that way,¡± said Leata. ¡°But you have to remember, they were unprepared to fight this kind of war, and the reputation of what they called the barbarian hordes overwhelmed them. They lost the battle because of lack of planning as much as anything else. This was a kingdom that had fought any number of internal skirmishes, but it only had one war, and that was the one they lost. They never really had a chance.¡±


    ¡°According to Maynor, most battles are won and lost not on the basis of strength of arms, but on the mental conditioning of the people fighting. Never giving up is as important as knowing your skills,¡± said Eric.


    Leata pursed her lips, a clear sign that she didn''t completely agree with Maynor''s assessment. ¡°It¡¯s true many battles are lost before the first sword is drawn, but it¡¯s a lot more complex than that. Strategy, heart, bravery, even luck can turn the tides of a great battle. Is anyone eating that last pastry?¡±


    She reached for it, but didn¡¯t pick it up until everyone else had shaken their heads.


    ¡°You seem more engaged today than usual. Any reason why?¡±


    ¡°Because whatever is going to happen has already begun. Our time to prepare is running out,¡± said Dahr, with absolute confidence.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure about this?¡±


    ¡°We are,¡± replied Eric. ¡°We can all feel it. It¡¯s happening even as we speak.¡±


    ¡°What is?¡± asked Leata.


    They all looked at each other, none of them wanting to answer the question directly. For a long time no one spoke while Leata searched each of their faces for some clue as to what they might be talking about, or even what they might be feeling. Finally, Dahr answered. ¡°The events that will force us into our new situation. And then we¡¯re going to see how well we do against the undead in real life.¡±


    Leata studied the young prince. He didn¡¯t seem to be joking. Sheba was asking the princes and Princess Chari to fight the undead? It wasn¡¯t her place to question the will of the gods, but that seemed preposterous. And yet, Leata believed that Dahr had spoken the truth. Silently, she prayed to the goddess to protect them all. They were so young, and there were so few children their age in the palace. Surely, Sheba wouldn¡¯t let the princes die. Please let it be so. It took her a few long moments to regain her composure. She was about to continue the lesson when Maynor walked into the kitchen. Instead of breaking his fast, as he had undoubtedly planned, he was instead ambushed by three young royals, who had other ideas about what he should be doing at that particular moment.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    *


    Chari faced Eric, practice sword in hand. Eric fought with his holy shield, but used a practice sword as well. From the side of the yard, Maynor, Kalutu and Dahr watched them spar.


    The two employed different strategies. Eric fought a more defensive battle, watching for an opening that would allow him to penetrate Chari¡¯s defenses. Chari was more aggressive, her attacks relentless. They circled each other, but it was clear from the outset that Chari would be the aggressor.


    Maynor made note of the skills they used and when they used them, resisting the urge to call out advice. He wouldn¡¯t be there to tell them what to do when it mattered. Some things you had to learn for yourself.


    Chari used Frenzy and Shred, often together, more often than she used Puncture. She once used Tremendous Leap to close the gap between them when Eric had dodged backwards.


    Eric bided his time. He didn¡¯t need to use Taunt at all in this situation and only one of his two passive skills came into play. Endurance kept him in the game when other opponents would likely tire. He was strategically letting Chari tire herself out, while his Endurance skill let him keep going. Which meant if Chari didn¡¯t find an opening, Eric would win the match simply by virtue of wearing her down.


    In an actual battle, Eric¡¯s advantage would have been stronger, but most of Eric¡¯s skills didn¡¯t work in this situation. His skills worked best when he used them to protect other people. Taunt was useful to draw the attention of foes, the Bigger They Are was a passive skill that helped him against creatures significantly larger than he was, Reflect Projectiles didn¡¯t help him, since Chari only had a sword, and Vengeful Attack wasn¡¯t appropriate unless there was something to be vengeful over.


    He tried a couple of Shield Bashes, but Chari was too fast and her Frenetic Defense meant his offense had to be near perfect, or completely unexpected.


    The two countered each other effectively which meant, over time, Eric would win. Maynor had known this before the fight had started, but he¡¯d been surprised before. This time however, it went as he thought it would. Eric used less energy with his defensive stance, and Chari wasted energy continually trying to get in his guard. Eventually she tired. He could see her energy flagging. He watched her lower her defenses; once, twice, any second now it would happen. And it did.


    The third time she dropped her guard, just a bit, Eric advanced with a vicious set of sword attacks, but Chari surprised him. Puncture thrust past the edge of his shield, knocking the wind out of him. Chari followed the attack with a combination of Frenzy and Shred, aided by the skill Amazing Strength. Eric didn¡¯t know what had hit him.


    Chari¡¯s gambit impressed Maynor, who tended to think of her as a straight forward attacker, using more strength and less strategy. Perhaps he needed to rethink his opinion of her abilities. He had seen both of them spar before, but he had not had them face each other. Chari had realized what Eric was doing and used that knowledge to her advantage. Eric took the bait and went all in, extending himself, momentarily dropping his defenses long enough for her to get in her strongest attacks. In a real battle he¡¯d be dead. As it was, he was likely just a bit battered.


    He was on his knees doubled over. Chari walked to him and extended a hand, which he took. He smiled ruefully, and she pulled him to his feet.


    ¡°Nicely done,¡± he said. ¡°I should have expected that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But that¡¯s what training is for. Getting to see what could possibly go wrong and learning from it. You¡¯re less likely to make that mistake again.¡±


    Eric nodded.  Dahr came running up to them, while Kalutu approached at a more sedate pace.


    ¡°That was awesome, Chari. I really thought Eric was going to win.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cause he¡¯s your big brother, and I¡¯m just a girl,¡± Chari teased.


    ¡°No!¡± protested Dahr. ¡°It has nothing to do with you being a girl. You kick ass.¡±


    Eric shook his head. ¡°Dahr¡­¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s right. I do kick ass. So who¡¯s next?¡±


    They spent more time sparring and practicing skills, and trained more on blocking and dodging, but as the time approached for them to stop, their minds were less into it. In a matter of hours, they would be married, and no amount of distraction would have been enough to keep that impending event from affecting their focus.


    For once, Maynor didn¡¯t tell them to fight through it. ¡°I think we should call it today. You have a wedding to attend. You wouldn¡¯t want to be too tired to enjoy it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be there, won¡¯t you?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Of course I will. I wouldn¡¯t miss it. I understand there¡¯ll be free beer afterwards.¡±


    *


    Aranya Freesh took one last look at the Misfits of Karmenon, who were all packed and ready to go. Beside her stood a mage capable of communicating with the highly magical chirkir.  The mage dressed in deep blue robes that exactly matched his eyes, and his bald head shone in the brightness of the room. Though he didn¡¯t work directly for her, she paid an ongoing fee that insured he drop everything on the rare occasions she needed him. That he had already been in the building on another matter didn¡¯t even surprise her at this point. It was just one more link in a very long chain of bizarre coincidences.


    They all stood in a large, empty room, with a single feature on the flagstone floor in the center, a raised, intricately carved stone ring. Those unfamiliar with the magical arts, would have assumed this was some sort of ritual circle, but it was not, nor was it made by a mage. The circle was a chirkir, an ancient and powerful creature, whose race once dominated the magical landscape. Those days were long gone.


    Chirkir needed magic to survive, and were happy to trade the one commodity they possessed in exchange for it. Since each chirkir was linked, they could transport people, livestock and items over almost any distance to any other chirkir. In most cases, this was a symbiotic relationship where both sides benefited. However, there were stories of powerful mages enslaving chirkir, starving them of magic until they did their bidding. Aranya had no idea of the truth of these rumors, but her chirkir was well cared for and had been given everything it required to remain healthy.


    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± she asked. It was strange, but she was going to miss this odd team. It had been a while since she had been directly involved with anything this intriguing, a welcome break from her normal routine.


    There were nods all around.


    ¡°Then this is it. You¡¯ll appear in the guild building in Rish. Guild Master Andeon Walsh will be on hand to greet you and answer any questions you might have.  He¡¯s one of the good ones, so try not to drive him too crazy. He knows what¡¯s going on, but don¡¯t talk about it if you¡¯re not in a secure room. He¡¯ll give you what help you need.¡±


    Ressssen stepped forward. ¡°We¡¯d like to thank you for the assistance you have provided. We could not have done this without you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. If you can make some kind of inroads against the threat, it¡¯ll have all been worth it.¡±


    ¡°We can,¡± said Merck with more confidence than Aranya had heard from him prior to this point. She marveled at the change in him. Though she had only known him a matter of days, she could almost feel him evolving before her eyes.


    ¡°I believe you. Oh, Striker, you won¡¯t have a permit to take Stalker into the city. You¡¯ll have to get special dispensation to take him out of the gates even. I suggest you let her stay in the guild building until you can make arrangements. I¡¯m sure Guild Master Walsh will be able to aid you in this.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Striker. ¡°And if you¡¯re ever up for some light role-playing¡­¡±


    Aranya laughed. She really liked Striker. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you in mind. All right, no more procrastination. This mage is a busy man.¡±


    The mage took over before anyone else could speak. ¡°Right. I¡¯m going to cast a spell, and you¡¯ll appear in Rish. The experience doesn¡¯t affect most people badly. That said,¡± he spoke directly to Dreek, ¡°I¡¯ve never portaled a phase shifter before. I suggest you enter a solid form before I do.¡±


    Dreek nodded and did so. It only took a second.


    ¡°Done.¡±


    The mage turned his attention back to the group as a whole. ¡°Once you¡¯re there, I suggest you find a place to sit, even if it¡¯s on the floor, particularly if this is your first time porting. The process can be disorienting. Also, even though the portal is instantaneous, it will be an hour later in Rish.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± asked Borin.


    ¡°Time zones.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is,¡± said Borin.


    ¡°Then you have something to look up the next time you¡¯re in a library,¡± said the man, clearly impatient to be out of there.


    No other questions were asked.


    ¡°Please step onto the chirkir and move in close to each other, away from the edges.¡±


    He waited until the group complied, taking with them the kreve and all their gear. The vicious looking, black wolf-like creature with its fiery red eyes had only given him a moment of pause. As an experienced chirkir operator, he had transported all manner of creatures and items.  He made certain they were all far enough from the edge of the platform. Then he started chanting in Aldevarian, his voice droning, getting louder and deeper as the spell built. Finally, he raised both hands, a conductor requesting his orchestra to play louder.


    The ring on which they stood started to glow, faintly at first, then brighter and brighter.  The power level in the room swelled, so strong that even those with the weakest of magical senses could feel it, as if the air itself throbbed with arcane energy.  The circle beneath their feet became so bright that they had to close their eyes against it, and even then it hurt. And then it was gone, and so were the Misfits of Karmenon.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Aranya told the mage.


    ¡°That was a lot of gold to spend on a low level team.¡±


    He was fishing for information, she knew, wondering what could possibly be behind such an unusual transaction.


    ¡°It was. But I think it will be worth it.¡±


    He smiled politely, realizing he wasn¡¯t going to get any more out of her.


    ¡°It was worth a try,¡± he shrugged.


    ¡°Mark today, good mage. I have a feeling you will be proud to have been a part of it.¡±


    The mage gave her an odd look, not sure how to respond. Aranya returned to her job of running the Pelaro Branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, while the mage remained behind, feeding power into the chirkir to replenish it.

 Chapter 26 - Confluence of Circumstance

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    After fighting practice, Dahr, Eric, Chari and Kalutu took a detour to track down Lord Ormund, who didn¡¯t seem all that happy to see them. They found him in a corridor on the way to his quarters and told him their time with him was winding down, which seemed to cheer him up.


    ¡°Is there a last bit of wisdom you might be able to supply?¡± asked Eric. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for an actual lesson.¡±


    ¡°The most useful thing I can teach you is how to interrupt a casting. Different mages have different skills in this regard, so there are no hard and fast rules.  For example, most mages don¡¯t need a specific set of movements to cast most spells and preventing them from moving their hands won¡¯t stop them. Silencing them will, through a spell, or magic item. Since you have neither of those you¡¯ll have to depend on more pedestrian methods.¡±


    ¡°I might be able to silence a mage,¡± said Dahr.


    Lord Ormund looked annoyed. ¡°Prince Dahr, while your abilities are no doubt impressive, I would venture to guess¡­¡±


    Dahr gestured and that was as far as Lord Ormund got. His lips were moving, but nothing came out. His eyes grew hard, and all four students could see the rage in them.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Dahr,¡± said Eric. ¡°You¡¯ve made your point.¡±


    Dahr gestured again, and Lord Ormund, hesitantly, said, ¡°Hello? Yes, well, good.¡±


    Almost as fast as it had appeared, the anger was gone, replaced by a complex series of emotions that was hard to read. Perhaps he had realized he was talking to a prince of the realm and decided that whatever his feelings, keeping them to himself would benefit him.


    ¡°As I was saying. To interrupt a casting, without using Dahr¡¯s unusual powers, you¡¯ll have to physically disrupt the mage. Hitting him in the stomach and knocking the wind from him will interrupt the vocal component of the spell, which most mages need, though apparently not Dahr.¡±


    Dahr shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m doing is magic as you understand it.¡±


    Suddenly, Lord Ormund was interested. ¡°Indeed? What is it then?¡±


    Dahr looked apologetic. ¡°I don¡¯t think George likes you very much. I think it¡¯s just him expressing his opinion.¡±


    ¡°Your god doesn¡¯t like me?¡±


    Dahr nodded. ¡°He pretty much told us that.¡±


    ¡°He told you he didn¡¯t like me? He just came right out and said it?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much. We all defended you, of course, seeing how helpful you¡¯ve been, but you know how gods are. You can¡¯t really change their minds. George is a bit set in his ways.¡±


    Lord Ormund¡¯s eyes grew wide, and he looked around as if expecting lightning to strike Dahr down right there in the palace.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t say such things. Blasphemy can be dangerous.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not blasphemy if it¡¯s true,¡± said Dahr. ¡°Anyway, George respects honesty and being blunt. He has no time for people who don¡¯t say what they mean.¡±


    Lord Ormund pulled himself up to his full height. ¡°In that case, I¡¯m not that impressed with George either.¡±


    At once, the corridor grew colder and the air heavier.


    ¡°That might have been a mistake,¡± said Dahr.


    Lord Ormund¡¯s face went from ire to fear in a matter of moments. Even Eric and Chari were surprised. Kalutu, however, seemed calm as ever.


    ¡°I thought you said he respects honesty and being blunt,¡± complained Lord Ormund.


    ¡°Yes, but I meant from me, his adherent. Not from you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± whined Lord Ormund. ¡°I was trying to be pleasing. Really, I didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡±


    Almost at once, the temperature around them increased, and everything seemed to go back to normal.


    ¡°You were saying,¡± said Eric, after shooting Dahr a disapproving look.


    To his credit, Lord Ormund regained his composure faster than any of them had expected. He picked up right where he left off. His face was still pale, but he seemed determined to finish what he had started.


    ¡°Yes, well, every mage is different, but knocking the wind out of anyone, or tackling them to the ground would affect almost all mages. If a mage isn¡¯t affected by that, you¡¯d have no chance against them anyway. Some mages, the less experienced ones, could even be interrupted by a missed attack, because it will break their concentration. There¡¯s a skill to casting in battle. It takes focus and practice. Not everyone has that skill.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Eric. ¡°I wish we could stay longer, but I think it¡¯s almost time for our wedding.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re getting married today?¡±


    ¡°We are.¡±


    Chari looked alarmed. ¡°Eric, do you suppose whatever is coming for us is coming for us during our wedding?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about it, but I don¡¯t think so. Everyone we know will be at that wedding. My father, Veloran, Maynor, I mean, we¡¯ll be in Sheba¡¯s Temple. I¡¯m not sure we could be in a better position should something go wrong.¡±


    Chari smiled, relieved. ¡°Thanks, I needed to hear that.¡±


    Eric turned to Lord Ormund. ¡°Thank you for helping to prepare us, Lord Ormund. We hope you¡¯ll be attending the wedding.¡±


    ¡°If there¡¯s potential danger, I¡¯ll certainly be there. It is my duty.¡± The fervor in his voice surprised them all, but he continued before they could react. ¡°But I agree with Eric. You¡¯d have to be mad to attempt something inside the Temple of Sheba.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Dahr. ¡°And it¡¯s not like anything mad has happened recently, right?¡±


    They all turned to look at him. Eric punched him on the arm and walked past him in the direction of their quarters.


    ¡°Ow!¡± said Dahr, ¡°What was that for?¡±


    Chari punched him on the same arm, fortunately without making use of Amazing Strength.  She followed Eric down the corridor.


    ¡°What did I do?¡± asked Dahr.


    Kalutu looked at him, and Dahr put his hand quickly over his arm.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to punch you,¡± said Kalutu. ¡°Though I¡¯d like to point out that Princess Chari had been looking for reassurance, and Prince Eric was trying to provide it. Your statement simply went against what the two of them were looking for.¡±


    ¡°What they should try looking for is the truth. Because whatever we think about the odds, anything can happen at any time, even in the Temple of Sheba. Remember, this is somehow her agenda. There¡¯s no reason she can¡¯t let something happen. In fact, in a lot of ways, it would be the ideal place. A place where she has control, and no one else can interfere.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of that,¡± said Kalutu. ¡°I have so much to learn.¡±


    ¡°We all have a lot to learn,¡± said Dahr, then he looked at Lord Ormund. ¡°I¡¯d like to apologize to you.¡±


    ¡°You would?¡± Lord Ormund looked surprised.


    ¡°I would. Unfortunately, I suspect my god won¡¯t allow it.¡±


    Then Dahr turned and walked down the corridor, leaving Lord Ormund standing with Kalutu.


    ¡°Lord Ormund, I apologize for my master and his god.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡±


    ¡°I do. Try to understand, the pressure has been mounting on both Prince Eric and Prince Dahr, and I assume, Princess Chari as well. They are not acting as they normally would. I think it¡¯s the stress.¡±


    Lord Ormund nodded, still looking irritable from Dahr¡¯s last words. ¡°What they¡¯re going into...will it really be that dangerous?¡±


    ¡°I think it will. So thank you for helping prepare them for it.¡±


    ¡°You are most welcome,¡± said Lord Ormund, surprising the familiar with a bow.


    Kalutu returned the bow and hurried to catch up to his masters, glad he had taken a moment to mollify the mage. There had been no reason to antagonize him, and it wasn¡¯t inconceivable that they might need his help in the future.


    *


    Andeon Walsh stood in the solid white portal room, waiting. The room itself was featureless. Not a blemish to be seen anywhere. When the door was closed, as it was now, you couldn¡¯t see its outline. If it weren¡¯t for the creature in the center of the room, it would have been hard to look at.


    The chirkir sat in the middle of the room, looking more or less like a giant stone platform with a ritual circle engraved onto it. Not much was known about the chirkir, and what was known wasn¡¯t all that certain. He studied the creature, as there was nothing else in the room to look at, and reviewed the small amount of information he¡¯d uncovered about it over his years as an adventurer.


    Every chirkir had a unique pattern. Perhaps they were born that way. Perhaps they developed the pattern as they aged, based on some unknown criteria. They were here before Sylinar, so the gods didn¡¯t know what to make of them either. Probably the most interesting thing about them is that they ate magic.


    For eons, they were the dominant magical race on the planet, consuming magic so they could reproduce, or so the literature says. But Thysandrika¡¯s magic levels had been higher in the days of the Empire. Much higher. No one really knows why they had started dropping but the effects, in some cases, had been catastrophic, particularly for some of the older magical races like the chirkir.


    There was no longer enough ambient magic for a chirkir to build up the energy it needed to reproduce and thus the chirkir that existed now were all there would ever be. Fortunately for both them and humanity they seemed to be immortal. Well almost immortal. They would live forever if something didn¡¯t kill them. Unfortunately, starvation could, and some of the larger chirkir did succumb to their hunger, eventually dying and crumbling away to dust. The very thought of such loss filled Andeon with sorrow.


    The entire race might have gone extinct, if not for an industrious mage improbably named Catharsis, who figured out that chirkir could be used to teleport people and objects anywhere in the world. That discovery had changed everything.


    Early on, there was a race to capture the creatures, or in some cases, entice them into service. Tremendous amounts of gold were poured into research to save the chirkir, once it became known how useful they could be. The greatest minds banded together to create spells that would help transfer magical energy directly to a chirkir in a way that they could actually make use of it. The issue was that mages could channel magic directly from the other realm, but that magic was different from ambient magic, altered by the very process of accessing it.  The spells to convert magic used by the mage into ambient magic, which the Chirkir could consume, took time and energy to perfect. Those who had the ability to learn the requisite spells became the first chirkir operators.


    Though human greed had saved the chirkir from extinction, figuring out the necessary spells had taken too long. These days there weren¡¯t many chirkir left.


    Those who were lucky enough to have access to one had a huge advantage. The ones remaining were found in guild buildings or occasionally temples to Ioranna. Nobles didn¡¯t trust the creatures and as far as he knew, no noble wanted to be anywhere near one, given that it opened up their home to outside intrusion. There was no way to lock a chirkir. That was the official story anyway. There were always rumors of kings and queens who had one stashed away in the bowels of their castle, but Andeon had always dismissed such rumors. It seemed unlikely anyone today could keep a chirkir against its will.


    Andeon had always wondered how those that had trapped them in the old days did so. It seemed like it would be impossible. But the histories were clear on the point. Some unscrupulous humans had found a way to ensnare chirkir, but so many of the ancient spells were either lost to time, or no longer possible to cast. Some say the chirkir didn¡¯t do well in captivity and many didn¡¯t make it, but most of those stories were anecdotal.


    Every chirkir was in constant contact with others of its kind, and they could send physical items between them, or even transfer magical energy. As he understood it, a group of distant chirkir could feed a starving one from anywhere, and sometimes that happened. The chirkir had lost so much since the days of the Empire, they were no longer willing to lose more. But they were willing to trade their abilities to survive, and they didn¡¯t seem particularly put out by it. At least some of them didn¡¯t.


    Andeon knew that chirkir had different personalities. Some were lighter, more positive, even playful, whereas others were standoffish, taciturn or even outright hostile. Some were quiet, or even shy. Some were friendly and quite talkative. Andeon had never had a conversation with a chirkir before, so he was quite surprised when he heard a voice in his mind.


    A moment of great moment.


    Andeon Walsh rolled his eyes. He could feel the chirkir enjoying his reaction. Damned telepaths.


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    It is. I have been waiting for this day for a very long time, even by my standards.


    ¡°This day?¡±


    I have lived a long time, and have seen many things that would astound even you. But today is special.


    ¡°What is so special about it?¡±


    Today it begins. There are moments history waits for and this is one of them.


    ¡°The Priest?¡±


    The Priest, The Beastmaster, the kreve, they¡¯re all one in a way.


    The chirkir knew they were coming, but how? Was it simply communicating with its counterpart in Pelaro, or was this information it already possessed?


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°What do you mean when you say they¡¯re all one?¡±


    But the platform had started glowing and the surge of magic that preceded an arrival effectively silenced the chirkir. Andeon Walsh never learned the answer to his question.  Unlike the sending point, the magic here didn¡¯t build, but flared suddenly, and when he could see again, the Misfits of Karmenon, looking slightly disoriented, took in the room with interest. It wasn¡¯t difficult for him to identify the beast master, since she stood with a hand resting on the kreve¡¯s massive black head. The beast¡¯s jaws parted when she saw Andeon looking, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.


    ¡°I love what they¡¯ve done with the place,¡± said Striker.


    A warrior standing beside her chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s not white enough if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Good day to you. I¡¯m Andeon Walsh, Guild Master of the Rish branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Welcome to the Kingdom of Twyl.¡±


    They all nodded, except the salad, who bowed.


    ¡°I am Ressssen, leader of the Misfits of Karmenon.¡± The serpent lord gestured to each team member as she introduced them. ¡°This is Striker and her pet, Stalker. My second, Garne. Borin, Dreek and Merck Vanderoth.¡±


    ¡°Well, Aranya was right. You are an interesting group,¡± he said, though he was staring at the kreve when he said it. As he continued, his eyes never left it. ¡°I know why you¡¯re here, and this room is currently warded. If you need anything, I am at your service.¡±


    ¡°What we need is to find a fourteen year old boy with black hair. He¡¯s probably a noble.¡± said Merck.


    ¡°So Aranya told me. His name is Prince Dahr. He was here with the high priest of Sheba, who seems to know him very well. The high priest¡¯s name is Veloran. I can give you a note, and you can go meet him. He might be able to arrange a meeting with the prince for you.¡±


    ¡°That easy?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Merck. ¡°Just look at the series of events that brought us here. We¡¯ve had exactly one dinner with nobles, and suddenly we know where the target of our search is, and now we¡¯re here, halfway across the world.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not even close to halfway,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Merck, ¡°Well, when they were training me in geography in Swindler school, I swore I would never make that mistake, but there you are.¡±


    Striker laughed. ¡°I like him. Can we keep him?¡±


    ¡°For a while longer at least,¡± answered Ressssen. ¡°Please, Mr. Walsh, pen your letter. And then, if you would be so kind, can you direct us to the Temple of Sheba.¡±


    ¡°I can do one better. It¡¯s quite close. I can walk you over there.¡±


    ¡°That would be apprecccciated.¡±


    The Guild Master gestured and the door opened. They followed him out into a passage that extended directly away from it. The portal room was at the end of a corridor to keep it isolated from the rest of the building. Isolation was important and in fact, there were no other doors or passages in that corridor. Too many important people traveled by chirkir. More than a few wanted to keep their movements confidential.


    ¡°There are traps here,¡± said Dreek, gesturing to the walls, ¡°quite a few in fact. I suspect if we were not welcome, we would soon come to regret our intrusion.¡±


    ¡°You have a good eye,¡± said Andeon. ¡°Most people can¡¯t detect them.¡±


    ¡°Most people are not phase shifters,¡± said Dreek, matter of factly. He wasn¡¯t bragging, simply stating a fact.


    There were few people on this level, but as they moved through the building they started seeing more and more traffic.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of people here,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°More lately,¡± said Andeon. ¡°A new dungeon has been discovered nearby. Adventurer¡¯s have come from all over to explore it.¡±


    They looked at each other, but Andeon was in front and didn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± said Ressssen. ¡°When was it discovered?¡±


    ¡°A bit over a week ago,¡± said Andeon.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± growled Garne.


    Quickly Striker filled Andeon in on the dungeon found near Pelaro, at least the little bit she had heard about it.


    ¡°That is odd. I wonder what it portends.¡±


    ¡°The world is changing,¡± said Merck. ¡°I think we¡¯re all going to have to get used to that.¡±


    Andeon Walsh examined the Misfits of Karmenon. None of them looked surprised at the announcement. Two humans (one of whom had a pet kreve), a serpent lord, a phase shifter and a salad.  One of the most eclectic teams he¡¯d ever encountered.


    It was the reason he had volunteered to escort them personally. For most teams, particularly low level teams, he¡¯d have sent someone to perform that task. But Aranya seemed quite taken with this team. And curiosity had always been one of his most defining traits.


    ¡°You talk about change. Do you know what that entails?¡±


    Merck shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re asking the wrong guy. I can¡¯t even tell you my god¡¯s name.¡±


    Striker broke in. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re pretty big on not knowing stuff. It¡¯s sort of a team specialty.¡±


    Andeon looked around at the misfits who all seemed quite happy to let that comment stand. Most teams would have tried to impress the guild master of a large city guild, but this low level team didn¡¯t seem to have any need or desire to do so. In Andeon¡¯s experience, that meant one of two things. Either they weren¡¯t confident enough to talk themselves up, or they were good enough that they didn¡¯t feel they needed to.


    Some teams he knew were going to move up the ladder sooner rather than later. Andeon had the distinct feeling he was looking at one of them.


    *


    Eric and Dahr had returned to their suite, while Chari, for once, went to her own room. The brothers were about to wash up before changing. They had prepared everyday garb instead of formal wear. Chari had been quite clear about this affair being casual, and Eric couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine how annoyed she¡¯d be if they showed up in formal attire while she was dressed more casually. He wanted his wedding day to be memorable, preferably for the right reasons.


    He watched as Dahr picked up a clay pitcher and poured water into a metal basin. Dahr picked up a cloth and sloshed it around, not caring how much water spilled over the sides in the process. Dahr started to scrub himself. Eric looked at the untouched pitcher and basin in front of him. He had neither the time nor energy for the conversation he knew he needed to have, but that didn¡¯t matter. There were some things that had to be addressed before it was too late.


    ¡°Dahr, I wanted to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    Dahr hadn¡¯t even glanced in his direction. ¡°Dahr, I think you should lighten up on Lord Ormund. Whatever you think of him, he¡¯s here to help us.¡±


    Dahr stopped what he was doing and looked up, surprised. ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡±


    ¡°No, Dahr, I¡¯m not. Lord Ormund is a high level mage, who deserves at least minimal respect, even if you do outrank him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a condescending jerk. He talks down to me like I¡¯m a child.¡±


    ¡°Compared to him, we¡¯re both children, even if we have transitioned. Let me ask you a question...if you had studied magic all your life, only to be shown up publicly by a Level 1 fourteen year-old, how do you think you¡¯d feel?¡±


    ¡°Me? Humbled. You¡¯d think after the last time he would have learned his lesson.¡±


    ¡°My father taught me that people should be treated with respect.¡±


    Dahr turned to face Eric and took a step toward him. Eric could see he was getting angry. ¡°And what about him respecting me? Why is he allowed to talk to me like I¡¯m just a kid, when I can do things he can¡¯t do. He¡¯s pompous and arrogant. He¡¯s a fool.¡±


    ¡°I asked my father about him. He¡¯s a knowledgeable mage who has years of experience. He¡¯s relatively high level. He knows more about magic than anyone else in the palace.¡±


    Dahr started to pace now, clearly agitated. ¡°Yes, he¡¯s a high level mage, and I can do things he can¡¯t. Tell me, Eric, where do you think I¡¯ll be when I¡¯m Lord Ormund¡¯s age?¡±


    ¡°Honestly? I think you¡¯ll be in a grave. If you¡¯re going to piss off everyone that can possibly help you, it doesn¡¯t matter how powerful you are. Everyone needs allies. You may feel powerful now, here in the palace or safe in a city, but we¡¯re not always going to be here. You don¡¯t turn away possible allies, even if you don¡¯t like them. Even if you don¡¯t care for their manner. If you won¡¯t take it easy on Lord Ormund because it¡¯s the right thing to do, then do it because it¡¯s the smart thing to do. You¡¯re better than this, Dahr. Don¡¯t let the power go to your head.¡±


    Dahr had been angry but at those last words, Eric saw the anger drain from his face. When he spoke again, Dahr¡¯s words were calm and measured. ¡°Is that what you think is happening? You think I¡¯m becoming a bully?¡±


    ¡°Are you? Was it necessary to attack Lord Ormund when he was already down? If you¡¯re truly more powerful than he is, do you have to rub it in? Who benefits from that? It disrupts the lesson. It makes Lord Ormund feel worse, which could affect his ability to teach. It doesn¡¯t even particularly help you. I can understand why Lord Ormund annoys you, but take it from me. People are the way they are for a reason. You don¡¯t know what he¡¯s been through to make him that way. My father always tells me that no one thinks they¡¯re the bad guy. People have reasons for acting the way they do, even if it makes no sense to us. My mother took that a step further by teaching me that learning how people think and why they act as they do is the first step to not only understanding them, but making allies of them. Not everyone can be your friend, but we all need as many friends as we can gather.¡±


    ¡°You think I should apologize to Lord Ormund?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what I think. The real question is, do you think you should apologize. I think you should do what¡¯s right. I know you should do what¡¯s smart. But I¡¯m not your father, Dahr. I can¡¯t make you do anything. You¡¯ve transitioned now. You¡¯re your own man. I can only offer advice. I can¡¯t tell you what you should or shouldn¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good thing,¡± replied Dahr. ¡°If this is the kind of lecture I get when you can¡¯t tell me what to do, I can¡¯t even begin to imagine the kind of lecture I¡¯d get if you could.¡±


    Eric laughed. ¡°Okay, okay. Point taken.¡±


    Dahr sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know why that guy gets to me so much, but I think I need to apologize.¡±


    Kalutu cleared his throat. ¡°You may not have to, Dahr. I¡¯ve already took the liberty of apologizing for both you and your god.¡±


    Dahr shifted his attention to their familiar. ¡°You did what?¡±


    ¡°I apologized. I think Prince Eric is right. Lord Ormund is an ally, and if you¡¯re going to anger an ally, you should have a stronger reason than he gave you. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d apologize, so I did.¡±


    Eric nodded approvingly, but Dahr scowled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to do what I think is right?¡±


    Kalutu shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to protect and obey you. In the absence of a direct order, I can use my own judgment. Keeping Lord Ormund on our side seemed like a good idea. It makes everyone safer. I understand your issues with him, but I think there might be other ways to deal with the situation.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    Kalutu scratched his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I do know this. Lord Ormund holds a place of respect in the hierarchy of this palace. Having him respect you adds to your reputation. A person¡¯s reputation in society is partly based on what they can do, and what they¡¯ve done, but it¡¯s also based on who respects them and who doesn¡¯t. That¡¯s true even if you¡¯re a royal. King Terrence, from everything I¡¯ve heard, is very well regarded, and people take him seriously because of it. King Leonid is less well regarded, and though people are scared of him, they talk about him behind his back.  They get away with what they can. They think he¡¯s a foolish king. I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯d rather be in King Terrence¡¯s position.¡±


    Dahr looked from Kalutu to Eric and back again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to disrupt the lesson. I guess I have some growing up to do.¡±


    Eric walked over to him and ruffled his hair. ¡°We all do, Dahr. I¡¯m getting married, if I ever finish getting ready. Do you think I feel ready for that?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± asked Dahr. ¡°It¡¯s Chari. You practically live together already.¡±


    Eric laughed. ¡°You realize I¡¯ve known Chari for less than a week, right? And  you know, Chari, as much as I like her...she has some strong opinions. Part of me thinks marrying her is as dangerous as anything else that might happen. She can be a bit scary. And she has that Amazing Strength skill. I¡¯m going to have to learn how to behave.¡±


    ¡°Behave?¡± Dahr spluttered. ¡°Eric, you¡¯re the gold standard. The goddess of honor gave you two holy weapons. You¡¯re here telling me to be more honorable, and that I should treat people better. Getting you to break a rule is like convincing a noble to become a servant. I can¡¯t remember ever seeing you misbehave.¡±


    Eric laughed. ¡°You weren¡¯t around when I was younger. I got up to some pretty serious mischief, believe me. You should ask my mother one day.¡±


    Dahr looked at Kalutu. ¡°He probably used the wrong fork at dinner one night.¡±


    Before Eric could reply, there was a knock on the door. Both of them pulled on robes, while Kalutu answered it. Chari stood outside in leather breeches and a white shirt.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t ready yet? How hard is it to wash up and get dressed?¡±


    Eric and Dahr exchanged a glance before Eric answered. ¡°Sorry, we stopped to have a talk about how Dahr treated Lord Ormund.¡±


    Chari raised an eyebrow. ¡°What? I thought that was funny.¡±


    Eric sighed. ¡°Let us finish getting ready, and we can talk about it.¡±


    Chari walked into the room. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Dahr looked embarrassed. Eric rolled his eyes. ¡°We¡¯d like to get dressed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stopping you.¡±


    Dahr grumbled and took his clothes into the bedroom to change. Eric thought about it for only a minute and started to do the same.


    ¡°You realize,¡± said Chari, ¡°We¡¯re going to be married in a matter of an hour or two, right?¡±


    Eric nodded. ¡°Sure, but we¡¯re not married yet. Did you really think that what Dahr did to Lord Ormund was funny?¡±


    ¡°I did. That guy always talks down to Dahr, so I¡¯m not sure what he expected. If you¡¯re going to talk down to people, you have to expect some backlash. Especially people who are above your station.¡±


    Eric grimaced. Having an argument with his future wife just before the wedding, probably wasn¡¯t the best use of what little energy he had left.


    ¡°Right. I¡¯m going to get dressed.¡±


    He walked from the room with his outfit, and closed the door behind him. Chari looked at Kalutu.


    ¡°So, how bad was it?¡±


    Kalutu shrugged. ¡°It seemed to go fine. I agree with Eric by the way.¡±


    Chari smiled. ¡°Yeah, me too.¡±


    ¡°But you said¡­¡±


    ¡°Kalutu, women say a lot of things that mean something other than what they¡¯re saying. Eric had a point and Dahr had a point, but either way, I still found it funny.¡±


    Kalutu shook his head. ¡°I fear I¡¯m going to need an interpreter. Are they expensive?¡±


    Chari chuckled. ¡°You won¡¯t need an interpreter, Kalutu. You¡¯ll just do what most men do.¡±


    ¡°Which is?¡±


    ¡°Wrack your brain trying to figure us out until it melts. This is why women will one day rule the world.¡±


    Kalutu¡¯s frown of confusion went unnoticed as beaks were bad at displaying that particular expression.


    *


    The party that left the palace heading for the temple district was larger than Chari thought it would be.  It contained both her parents and Eric¡¯s. Then there was her team, she chuckled at the thought, appropriate guards and some servants, a few nobles she didn¡¯t recognize, Leta, Maynor and Lord Ormund. Fortunately, the temple was large, and would no doubt be reserved for something as important as a royal wedding. Her wedding. It didn¡¯t seem real. It certainly wasn¡¯t anything like she¡¯d pictured when she was younger, on the rare occasions she¡¯d bothered to try.


    In a lot of ways this was better. More honest. The union of two people binding themselves together because they wanted to. Without all the strangers trying to gain advantage by talking to you. Without the ludicrously long ceremony. Without the consummation ritual that she was happy wasn¡¯t practiced in Twyl.  Just a binding of souls. One day, they would be King Eric and Queen Chari, if they survived whatever was coming for them. Not the time for such thoughts, she chided herself. Today was a day for celebration, brief though it would be. She understood the chef was making quite a lovely dinner for them back at the palace.


    People stared at the procession as it moved through the streets. They hurried to get out of the way. The king and queen rode side by side on matching horses and, as soon as they were recognized, a shout went up from the people on the street.


    People were beginning to line the way as if this were a parade. Chari was surprised at how fast the crowd had gathered. There was cheering and waving and in a couple of cases shouts of discontent, but those were few. There would have been none of them if it had been her father, because the people of Melar would have been scared to express an opinion about him openly, at least in his presence. It was yet another difference between Twyl and Melar.  Yes, it was good that she was here. It suited her. It seemed so strange. She had had to travel to another country to finally find a home. She had been so against marriage and now here she was, only weeks later and suddenly she was all for it. What had happened to her?


    She knew the answer immediately. Eric had happened. Eric with his serious demeanor and his honor and his desire to protect those he loved. Eric with his devotion to Sheba, the goddess she had chosen to serve so long ago she could not remember a time when it hadn¡¯t been the case. Eric with his two holy weapons and his favor. A man she could be proud to marry. A man with honor, and integrity and, as her father had told her, a handsome face and quite a good looking body. A body that was becoming harder and stronger as they practiced. A body that she would soon be sharing a bed with. Okay, they could work on that. Take it slow. It didn¡¯t have to happen tonight.


    And yet part of her wanted it to. She wanted that closeness, that intimacy. She wanted a part of Eric no one else had. No one else would ever have. But then she thought about her father, and even King Terrence and knew there was no guarantee of that. Still, if she had her say, it would be tonight. That much at least, the gods could give them. At least she hoped that was true.


    The crowd grew even larger. She couldn¡¯t believe it. Where had all these people come from? They lined the thoroughfare from the palace to the Temple of Sheba without a single gap. Chari pitied anyone who had to cross the street on which they traveled.


    Chari tried to recapture her reverie, but it was gone now, chased away by the noise of the crowd. She waved as she passed, and people waved back, though most probably had no idea who she was. Was this what it was like to be famous? To be a hero? She had never cared about any of that. What she wanted was the strength to defend herself should she need to. She wondered how long it would take to acquire that strength. The road would be long, and she had only taken her first steps on it.


    The crowd cheered again, and she looked around for a reason, but saw nothing. Maybe they were just exuberant. Had she ever seen the people of Melar this engaged? She didn¡¯t think so.


    And then it was over, and they were at the temple. Those riding dismounted, those walking gathered near the entrance, stopping before the wall of priests who stood between them and the large double doors. Veloran stood in front of them, but he was not wearing his fighting robes as usual. He was dressed in his formal high priest¡¯s garb, which turned out to be burnished scale mail armor emblazoned with Sheba¡¯s sigil.


    She almost didn¡¯t recognize him. He looked ten years younger. The armor added to his already massive frame, making him look like some unreal ancient hero. He might have been Arimen himself. She could barely take her eyes off him. Others studied him with the same intensity. The buzz of conversation died suddenly and there was silence. Veloran looked around with approval, amusement, pride. He seemed more than he had been, as if somehow, he had borrowed Sheba¡¯s strength so that even people further back could hear him when he finally spoke.


    ¡°Your Majesties, Lords and Ladies of the Court, fine people of Rish, welcome to the Temple of Sheba. This will be a closed ceremony. The doors will be barred after the guests enter, and the priesthood will remain outside to make sure the ceremony is not interrupted. Tonight, Prince Eric of Twyl will marry Princess Chari of Melar. On this joyous occasion, I ask you to set aside whatever troubles you, for troubles will come soon enough. My goddess assures me however, that we have this time at least, and we will put it to good use, without the fear or pressure of the days gone past. Tonight is a night for celebration, and we will make it count!¡±


    There were cheers again, louder than before, even though the people lining the street had no idea what the priest had actually been talking about. They didn¡¯t particularly care. Already word was spreading down the line that a royal wedding was happening right here, right now. The cheer moved like water running through a channel, flowing faster and louder as the onlookers picked it up.


    And in the front of the party, Eric, Chari, Dahr and Kalutu, stood and watched as the city came out to support them.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing we kept it small,¡± said Eric, eyes sparkling with amusement.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Veloran, ¡°we should get inside. I can barely hear myself think out here.¡±

 Chapter 27 - The Wedding

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Before Striker left Stalker alone in the guild building, she tried hard to make sure her pet understood what was happening. She had no intention of finding a dead adventurer on her return, or almost as bad, a dead kreve, which in this place was just as likely. She made sure Stalker had been supplied with both water and fresh meat, and warned the beast to hurt no one in her absence, that the people in the guild building were all her friends, and she believed the kreve understood, if not the context of what she was saying, at least how she was expected to behave.


    Stalker didn¡¯t seem stressed when Striker left her, which was a relief. It was one thing to leave her out in the wild, but to leave her locked in a large room by herself? That just felt cruel. Still there was nothing she could do about it, so she put the thought from her mind and focused on what happened next, which turned out to be a short walk to the Temple of Sheba.


    Much to her surprise, Striker found the street filled with people, and the entrance to the temple blocked by a dozen priests of Sheba in full battle robes. The guild master looked just as perplexed as she did.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± shouted Andeon over the noise of the crowd as he pushed his way through the throng to the priests before the temple. They all knew him, so he was allowed to approach.


    Like the guild master, the priest had to raise his voice to be heard over the din. ¡°A royal wedding. Prince Eric is getting married to Princess Chari of Melar.¡±


    ¡°Right now? So Prince Dahr is inside as well?¡±


    ¡°He is. What is this about?¡± asked the priest.


    Andeon leaned closer to the priest, so he wouldn¡¯t have to talk quite as loud. ¡°I had originally come here to request a meeting between a team of adventurers and Prince Dahr. I was hoping that High Priest Veloran could make the introduction. But if the prince is in there, and Veloran is present as well...it seems like fate to me. Perhaps your goddess had a hand in arranging this situation.¡±


    ¡°I do not know, but you¡¯re welcome to wait. I don¡¯t know how long they¡¯ll be.¡±


    Striker had managed to make her way through the crowd behind him and had overheard the entire conversation. Considering how loud they were speaking, she wouldn¡¯t have been the only one. She looked around to see if anyone suspicious might be in ear shot, but it would have been like trying to find a specific needle in a stack of needles.


    ¡°Everything seems to be pushing us toward this meeting,¡± said Striker.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Andeon. ¡°The timing is too suspect to be coincidence.¡±


    To their right, Striker noticed two creatures she originally thought were animals standing off to the side of the crowd, watching the entrance with rapt attention.


    ¡°Andeon, are those what I think they are?¡±


    The guild leader turned his gaze to follow hers and nodded. ¡°They are manamals, yes. Very rare, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware.¡±


    ¡°Any idea what they¡¯re doing here?¡±


    ¡°Not a clue. Do you think it¡¯s important?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± she replied. ¡°Maybe Merck would know.¡±


    Andeon went to retrieve the rest of the Misfits, who he escorted through the crowd to the front. He wasn¡¯t as well known a figure in Rish as the royals were, but enough people knew who he was that he managed to get them through with minimal conflict. Now they all stood waiting for the wedding to be over. Striker noticed Borin watching the manamals.


    One looked much like a bipedal raccoon that stood straight backed and almost as tall as a short human. The other had probably been a squirrel, and still sported the bushy tail, despite having what was essentially a furry human-shaped body.  Their heads were animal heads. She walked over to Borin.


    ¡°First time seeing them?¡±


    Borin nodded. ¡°They¡¯re like me, if you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it would be okay if I went and talked to them?¡±


    Striker looked thoughtful. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. From what I understand, manamals don¡¯t think highly of salads. I¡¯m sorry, Borin.¡±


    ¡°But why not? We¡¯re the same. We¡¯re both animated by magic.¡±


    ¡°I know but prejudice isn¡¯t logical. I think it might be better if you just watched.¡±


    Borin yielded to Striker¡¯s experience, but he still looked longingly at the manamals, who, like him, had once been something less. She could almost read the urgency of his thoughts and knew she could do nothing about it. So she tried to distract him.


    ¡°What do you think about the thing with the dungeons?¡±


    ¡°What? Oh¡­¡±


    She could see his mind switching tracks, his enthusiasm for the topic temporarily drowning out his desire to meet another species.


    ¡°It¡¯s interesting. What are the odds of two dungeons being discovered at the same time, in two different countries?  I mean we know not every dungeon ever made has been discovered, so many are well hidden, which just means that any dungeons close to cities would have been discovered first. I wonder if other dungeons have been discovered by other cities and what that might mean.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an interesting question. I think you should talk to Ressssen about this.¡±


    ¡°Do you? She might be busy.¡±


    ¡°Borin, you¡¯re a member of the team. She¡¯ll want to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m just a plant.¡±


    ¡°No, Borin, you¡¯re not just a plant. You¡¯re a member of our team, and you¡¯re my friend.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had a friend before. Thank you, Striker.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. I¡¯ve had a lot of friends, but I can¡¯t seem to keep them.¡±


    She didn¡¯t explain the comment, and Borin was sensitive enough not to ask what she meant, but it didn¡¯t matter. Borin was happier now, his attention successfully shifted away from what Striker thought would have most likely been a painful conversation.


    *


    The inside of the temple wasn¡¯t particularly crowded, since the room was big enough for a sizable congregation. Only the first seven rows of seats were taken, which still left quite a lot of empty rows behind.


    The large chamber was lit by small ever-burning torches and contained statues in alcoves every twelve feet or so depicting famous warriors throughout history, and in one case, Arimen himself, the father of the gods. Sheba¡¯s father, whatever that meant in the context of gods. When he¡¯d first come here, Dahr had been surprised that Arimen didn¡¯t have a place of honor, that he was just another statue in an alcove, undifferentiated from the others. Eric had explained to him that Sheba did not play favorites, and that all warriors were equal in her eyes, that those that lived by the way of the warrior should be respected as honorable men, no individual higher than any other. Dahr thought this didn¡¯t seem very realistic, but he didn¡¯t say anything to Eric, because he wanted to avoid the inevitable lecture that would follow.


    The seats, sturdy white stone benches propped up on myriad solid stone blocks, weren¡¯t built for comfort. Instead they were designed to hold the weight of some very large warriors in some very heavy armor. When a group of soldiers came in together, sitting side by side in their chain mail or scale mail or even plate armor, their cumulative weight was a threat even to stone. Dahr had seen the temple that busy and suspected that the priests had to pray to Sheba on some days to reinforce the benches, just in case.


    There were three white marble altars at the front of the room, a larger central altar and two smaller ones to either side. In the days of Lethe, these altars often were used for ritual sacrifice, a practice never employed in Andara. Today these altars contained various weapons and helms worn by Sheba¡¯s worshipers. To have a piece displayed was a sought after honor, but none of those gathered even glanced at the side altars today. Instead the focus was on the central altar behind which Veloran stood as if he were about to give a sermon, which Dahr hoped would not happen. He didn¡¯t mind Sheba as a goddess, but sermons were just boring. And if he fell asleep at Eric¡¯s wedding, he¡¯d be in a world of trouble. If Eric didn¡¯t kill him, Chari would.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Eric and Chari stood before the altar, looking tense. Though they occasionally glanced at each other, their main focus was on Veloran, who waited, either allowing the tension to build or perhaps just gathering his thoughts. Dahr looked around to see if people were still coming in, but everyone had settled into their seats. Dahr was in the first row, sitting between the two queens. He had no idea how he¡¯d ended up there. Kalutu opted not to sit at all, but to stand at the end of the first bench. Dahr almost ordered him to sit, but thought better of it.  If Dahr was uncomfortable on a seat with all this royalty, he couldn¡¯t imagine how Kalutu would feel. He must feel out of place so often.


    Then Veloran started talking, and Dahr shifted his attention to the front of the room.


    ¡°Your Majesties, honored guests, today is a special day. It is not often I am called upon to officiate at a royal wedding, and to marry two such worthy individuals honors me in ways I can not begin to express with mere words. For these aren¡¯t any two royals. These are warriors of Sheba who have dedicated themselves to her service, and who will soon be called upon to serve her more directly. Sheba has touched their lives and blessed them. Sheba has found them worthy to express her will.¡±


    There was a murmur from the crowd, but not as loud as it might have been. Everyone knew that the goddess had visited the throne room. To them, this wedding and these blessings were a given, something that had to happen. Still, the two of them, standing there, what they must have looked like to those who didn¡¯t know them well.


    Dahr tried to picture them as a stranger might. Eric with his sandy hair, too light to be brown but too dark to be blonde, cut short, though it had grown just a little longer since their training began. Blue eyes radiating intensity and intelligence. His serious demeanor was that of a man who would stand up to those who offended his sense of justice. Still young, he was a hero waiting to come into his own, and no one could doubt it.


    Yet he didn¡¯t dress in finery. He dressed in what most would call his normal day to day clothing. A fine white linen shirt, a brown leather vest and matching leather pants. Leather boots. Anywhere else, he might have seemed under-dressed for a wedding, but for a warrior¡¯s wedding? He looked like a swashbuckler from stories Dahr had been told when he was younger.


    And Chari, blonde haired, blue eyed, not just beautiful, but sharp like a sword and there was beauty in that too. She was so sure of herself, so powerful. That energy fed into her appearance somehow, making her almost glow, like she was part goddess herself. Like Eric, she dressed in leather breeches and a white shirt ¨C the two of them matched, Dahr realized. He hadn¡¯t noticed till now. He wondered if they¡¯d done it intentionally. He took all this in, in the moment Veloran had paused to let the audience react.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t much I can say that hasn¡¯t already been said about these two. Eric is the stable rock upon which the Kingdom of Twyl can safely rest when he finally dons his father¡¯s crown. And Chari is a warrior who will protect that peace and freedom through strength of arms and innate wisdom.


    Wisdom? Had Veloran met her?  Dahr almost laughed but managed to catch himself.


    ¡°Today, the two will become one. Stronger together than the sum of their individual strengths, wiser together than the sum of their individual wisdom. Today, Prince Eric of Twyl and Princess Chari of Melar will be united under the watchful eye of my lady Sheba, Goddess of honor, combat and the hunt. Princess Chari, do you have anything you wish to say to Eric?¡±


    Dahr felt Queen Rhea stiffen, as if she feared what Chari would say. This made him smile. He¡¯d probably feel the same way if he were her.


    ¡°Prince Eric, I have only known you for a short time. And during that time, we have already found ourselves in situations that no young people should ever have to face. Yet, if I must face these challenges, I thank the goddess that I face them with you by my side, for surely no one else will fight to protect me as you will, even if I don¡¯t actually need that protection all the time. I am a Warrior you know.¡±


    Everyone laughed, including Dahr.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to want to marry you the day we met in the throne room, the perfect picture of a king in waiting. But then I grew to know you and found that I like you. I mean really like you. I came to Twyl thinking of ways to get out of this marriage, but it wasn¡¯t long before I decided this was what I wanted. And it was you who changed my mind. Your honor, your faith in the goddess, your support and your steady hand. Thank you for being you.¡±


    She turned to Veloran and nodded.


    ¡°And Prince Eric, do you have something you wish to say to Princess Chari?¡±


    ¡°You expect me to follow that!¡±


    More laughter. Dahr thought he had a fair point.


    Veloran patted Eric¡¯s shoulder. ¡°As servants of Sheba, we can only do our best, even if that is sometimes hopelessly inadequate.¡±


    Eric gave him a flat look and a few people laughed. Then he returned his attention to his wife to be and took her hands.


    ¡°Chari, when I saw you standing there, that first day in the throne room, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Now, only a short time later, I still have no idea. Trying to figure you out is like trying to catch the wind, or grasp moonlight in my bare hands. Yet as elusive as the reasons for your actions might be, I have never questioned your heart, your courage, your honor, your capability, your honesty, your strength of character. I didn¡¯t know you were missing from my life until you were in it. And now, we take this step so that I might never have to be without you again. I can not imagine my life without you. Of course, I¡¯m not at all sure I can imagine it with you either.¡±


    There were a few chuckles from the crowd. Dahr glanced up at Queen Treya and saw there were tears in her eyes. He was glad he wasn¡¯t alone.


    ¡°I know that Sheba has reason for this union, but I would like to think that even without her influence, we would have married anyway, and we would be happy together, live our lives together, and grow old together. This has been my wish for us since the first day I met you.¡±


    He turned back to Veloran.


    ¡°You expect me to follow that?¡± said the High Priest. ¡°Well I guess I must. I will not waste time with a long speech, because Prince Dahr would probably fall asleep like he usually does.¡±


    Everyone laughed, but Dahr was mortified. He blushed and put his head in his hands. Queen Treya put a comforting hand around his shoulder. He buried his face against her. She smiled down at him. He couldn¡¯t see it but he knew.


    ¡°So instead, I¡¯ll simply pronounce the two of you married and leave you with only this word of advice. No matter what happens to you in the days and weeks and even years to come, your relationship will bring you strength. Support each other. Depend on each other. Lean on each other, for that is what marriage is about. Prince Eric, Princess Chari, you are now married in the eyes of Sheba, the Goddess of Honor, Combat¡­¡±


    Before he finished, Chari grabbed Eric and pulled him in for a kiss that seemed to go on for quite a while. The people applauded and cheered for the duration and when she pulled away, she had a far away look in her eye, and Dahr thought, maybe, just maybe, she already loved him in spite of her words.


    ¡°and the Hunt,¡± continued Veloran. ¡°You may now kiss...oh never mind. We¡¯ve done that already.¡±


    He held up his hands in a cheer, and everyone joined him, rushing off the seats to be the first to congratulate the new couple.


    Dahr was among them, happy and melancholy at the same time, for things would change now, and it wouldn¡¯t be just him and Eric. Ah well, he liked Chari anyway. And now he had a team to lead. He doubted in the days ahead, he¡¯d have much time to miss Eric, considering what was coming...whatever that would be. He wished he had more information.


    There was a brief period where everyone spoke with the young couple, but each well-wisher moved on so others could get to them. And when it was done, the king nodded to several guards, who made their way to the doors and pushed them open.


    The crowd outside had swelled to a sea of humanity, and the guards had their work cut out for them trying to push through to form a path for the group to make their way back to the palace.  The kings and queens followed directly behind the guards, followed by nobles. The crowd pressed in as far as the guards would let them and cheered wildly.


    And as Dahr passed through the door, he turned to the left and noticed a man that he never really expected to see. Merck Vanderoth stood to the side, watching the royal procession, scanning the group that was leaving the temple. His eyes met Dahr¡¯s, and he stiffened.


    ¡°Wait!¡± shouted Dahr, more loudly than he intended. Even over the roar of the crowd, the king and queen heard him and turned. Dahr pointed to Merck excitedly, and both Eric and Chari had come over to him.


    ¡°It¡¯s him. It¡¯s Merck Vanderoth.¡±


    ¡°Really? Where?¡± asked Eric.


    Dahr was already moving, and the guards hurried to get in front of him. The king was shouting orders, but Dahr wasn¡¯t paying attention. He only had eyes for the former Swindler.


    And when he finally got close, Merck knelt on the ground and bowed his head. ¡°Your Majesty.¡±


    Dahr didn¡¯t have time for the formality. He pulled Merck to his feet and then looked around. He saw the guild master of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, who he¡¯d only met briefly. Embarrassingly, he couldn¡¯t remember his name.


    ¡°Hi,¡± said Dahr to him.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± said the guild master, bowing.


    ¡°What in the blazes is going on?¡± asked King Terrence, finally catching up with his sons.


    Dahr looked up at him. ¡°We need this man. Are you alone?¡±


    Merck Vanderoth shook his head. He was trying to kneel to the king as well, but Dahr was holding him up. Merck looked at the king apologetically.


    ¡°I have my adventuring team with me.¡±


    The king looked at Dahr, who nodded.


    ¡°Very well,¡± said King Terrence, ¡°bring them. You too, Andeon. I have no idea what¡¯s going on, but Dahr does, and that¡¯s good enough for me.¡±


    Queen Treya was the next to reach them, along with Maynor.


    The queen didn¡¯t say anything, but Maynor made up for it. ¡°Who is this? Who are these people? How do you know them, Dahr?¡±


    The king held up a hand, and Maynor stopped talking.


    ¡°Not here,¡± he said.


    Dahr had stopped paying attention to everyone else. He was staring at Merck Vanderoth. He was real. He was here. It was happening, just as George had said it would.


    Just then a flaming parrot dropped out of the sky to land on Dahr¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°My job here is done.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I was here to make sure this meeting happened, and that¡¯s done now.¡±


    ¡°But where will you go?¡±


    The parrot shrugged, which is quite a sight if you¡¯ve never seen it. ¡°Who knows? But if you need me, I suspect I¡¯ll find a way to you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know your name,¡± said Dahr.


    The parrot again shrugged. ¡°What makes you think I have one? I wasn¡¯t born. You created me that day in the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. So if anyone gets to name me, it¡¯s you.¡±


    ¡°Oh damn.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m terrible at naming. I think I¡¯ll call you Flamewing.¡±


    The parrot gave him a pained look. ¡°Flamewing? Really?¡±


    ¡°For now. I¡¯ll think of something better, I promise.¡±


    ¡°I hope so, because if that¡¯s the best you can do, I might not find my way back to you. Flamewing, indeed.¡±


    With that, the parrot took off and flew straight up into the air, until it was barely a speck in the sky, and then it wasn¡¯t even that.  They all watched until it disappeared.


    Dahr looked at the puzzled crowd and said, ¡°We need to get back to the palace. We can talk more freely there.¡±


    The king nodded agreement, perplexed and nonplussed at the situation, but he gave orders to the guards, and the procession started up again, this time with the Misfits of Karmenon and Andeon Walsh walking amidst the nobles.


    What no one noticed in the confusion was that Kalutu was not with them, involved as he was in his own meeting.

 Chapter 28 - A Familiar Problem

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Kalutu had watched the wedding with interest. He¡¯d also watched the audience. From his position, he could see the emotional reactions of those in attendance. Kalutu didn¡¯t share those same emotions. He understood why the ceremony engendered those feelings in the audience, but the concept of romance was alien to him. He had heard people talking of love, and he understood it as a concept, but he wasn¡¯t sure it wasn¡¯t just a mechanism that allowed humans to mate. He was happy for Prince Eric and Princess Chari, of course, but the ceremony left him feeling more isolated than ever, for he seemed to be the only one present that didn¡¯t share the reactions of the others. He wondered if that made him a bad familiar.


    When the guests left, he tried to reach Dahr, but the press of bodies made that impossible, so he patiently filed out with the others. When he got outside, he had trouble processing everything that was going on. Guards were trying to clear a path, people were moving in every direction, and two creatures, the likes of which he had never seen, came running up to him.


    The first looked very much like a humanoid raccoon, and the other like a humanoid squirrel. Both types of animals existed on his original world, but they were much smaller, and didn¡¯t have bodies like these. He wondered if, like him, they were lycanthropes.


    Both were a head shorter than Kalutu, but their confidence made them seem taller as they approached. Kalutu paused when they reached him.


    ¡°You are Kalutu, the familiar?¡± asked the raccoon.


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°My name is Chetterfor Bex, but you can call me Chet. Me and my companion Sam are representatives of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Familiars. You may have heard of us.¡±


    The creature paused here and looked up at Kalutu hopefully.


    Kalutu shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand.¡±


    ¡°Familiars are often badly treated by their masters. Abused is a better word. We have no rights, no recourse, no legal standing. But familiars are people too. We just end up enslaved.¡±


    Kalutu thought this over. ¡°If you are enslaved, then how is it you a free to protest your predicament. That would seem to indicate a certain level of freedom, would it not?¡±


    Sam looked annoyed, but it was Chet who replied, his deep, melodic voice patient. ¡°Our masters are dead. We are free familiars. We needed a new purpose and found that helping other familiars who were being mistreated was as noble a goal as we could ask for. Familiars being mistreated is a familiar story.¡±


    ¡°I thought that up,¡± chimed in Sam.


    Chet nodded. ¡°He did. It was very well received. There have always been stories of familiars being beaten, locked in cages, chained up, subjected to every indignity. And there¡¯s nothing they can do about it, because they¡¯re stuck in that role. We wanted to do something to call attention to the problem.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Kalutu. He didn¡¯t know what else to say. He tried to picture what it would be like to lose Dahr, or Eric or even both, and felt immediate sympathy for these creatures, not to mention the abused familiars, a circumstance he¡¯d never considered.


    ¡°Ah?¡± said Sam. ¡°Is that all you can say?¡±


    ¡°I admit I am saddened by your loss and sympathetic to your cause. I¡¯m also not completely sure what I can do to help, however.¡±


    ¡°We had heard,¡± continued Chet, ¡°that you serve two masters.¡±


    Both familiars looked at him expectantly.


    ¡°I do. Prince Eric and Prince Dahr. But I¡¯m not abused. I¡¯m very well looked after.¡±


    ¡°Oh are you? Do you realize you¡¯re the only familiar in history that serves two masters?¡± asked Chet.


    ¡°I did not. But I don¡¯t see how¡­¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡± Sam interrupted. ¡°Do you not see the precedent you¡¯re setting? People shouldn¡¯t be expecting more from familiars. They shouldn¡¯t think of familiars as property. We¡¯re living, breathing, feeling beings. And by serving two masters, you¡¯ve opened the door to familiars being pressured to serve not just two, but maybe even groups of people. Serving one master is hard enough.¡±


    ¡°But surely you understand that I have no choice who I serve. I am compelled to serve both my masters.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not natural,¡± shouted Sam. Anywhere else his shout would have drawn eyes, but the noise around them was cacophonous. In fact, it was possible he was shouting simply to be heard over the surrounding confusion. There were commoners cheering, the king shouting orders, wait, what was going on over there. Kalutu turned his head, while Chet picked up the conversation again.


    ¡°Look, we understand you have no choice in the matter. We¡¯re not asking you to change that. We¡¯re just asking you to join our group.¡±


    Before Kalutu could answer, Sam broke in. ¡°You were at the royal wedding, right?¡±


    The change of subject was so sudden that Kalutu was drawn back into the conversation. ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s going to be a celebration dinner afterwards?¡±


    ¡°There will.¡±


    ¡°Will they have beer there?¡±


    ¡°I expect they will.¡±


    ¡°Can you bring a date?¡±


    Chet had had enough. ¡°Sam, you¡¯re not going to the palace to drink beer. We have other business right now.¡±


    ¡°Is it beer-related, at least?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. Remember why we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah. We¡¯re supposed to ask Kalutu to join the Society. But listen to this idea. If I went back to the palace with Kalutu, and there was beer there, I could get him drunk and then get him to¡­¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Chet yelled. ¡°Sam, get control of yourself. We don¡¯t get people drunk to get them to join. They have to join of their own free will.¡±


    ¡°You never let me have any fun at all,¡± Sam sulked.


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    ¡°You mean I never let you drink beer?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡±


    Chet shook his head. ¡°Squirrels, what can you do, am I right? So tell me, Kalutu...what do you think? Would you be interested in joining our organization?¡±


    Kalutu¡¯s attention seemed to have drifted back to a knot of people crowding around the princes.


    ¡°I need time to think about it,¡± said Kalutu distracted. ¡°Where can I find you?¡±


    ¡°We have an office at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. They, at least, value the sacrifice of familiars.¡±


    Kalutu was barely listening. ¡°I have to go. Something is going on. I¡¯ll be in touch.¡±


    Kalutu disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind two indignant manamals.


    ¡°See,¡± said Sam, ¡°This is what I¡¯m talking about. You move into a palace, and you don¡¯t have time for anyone else. I bet that guy is going to be drinking beer tonight.¡±


    ¡°Do you ever think about anything but beer?¡±


    Sam frowned. ¡°I think of lots of things. Admittedly, most of them are beer related, but I think of other things too.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    Sam had to think long and hard. ¡°Women. We need beer and some hot squirrel chicks.¡±


    ¡°Why would a woman of any species be interested in you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what the beer is for!¡±


    ¡°You really are a simple creature, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Ain¡¯t it great?¡±


    *


    The walk back to the palace seemed interminable for all that it only took a short time. The calm was over, and though the storm had yet to begin, the first figurative droplets of rain were falling¡­Merck Vanderoth was here. Dahr didn¡¯t know if he was more excited or scared, but at least he wouldn¡¯t be waiting now. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon, even if he didn¡¯t know what it was.  He was hoping that Merck could answer that.


    But the king had said, wisely thought Dahr, that they shouldn¡¯t discuss this matter on the street. So they walked in silence with Dahr looking back frequently at Merck and his companions. There was one that looked like a shadow and another that had a snake¡¯s head! Was that a serpent lord? He didn¡¯t know but was anxious to find out.


    Eric and Chari walked nearby, hand in hand, not yet willing to relinquish the closeness of the wedding, resign and concern in equal measure shadowing the joy they must be feeling. They too knew it had begun.


    The kings and queens walked together in a small group, whispering to each other. King Leonid was the most vocal and most visibly upset, though Dahr couldn¡¯t hear what was bothering him. All three of the others seemed to be trying to placate him.  King Terrence seemed amused but conciliatory, Queen Treya looked supportive, and Queen Rhea looked like she was fighting an old foe, comfortable and confident, but not giving an inch.


    Eventually, they made it back to the palace, and everyone was escorted to the throne room. At least everyone that mattered. All the royals, Merck and his companions, the guild master of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild plus Leata, Maynor, Lord Ormund, even Veloran had managed to join them, though Dahr didn¡¯t know when that had happened. An assortment of guards accompanied them as well, but no other nobles were allowed in. This would be a closed audience.


    The king was about to speak, but before he did Andeon Walsh stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty. Please forgive the breech of protocol. For those who don¡¯t know me, I am Andeon Walsh, the guild master for the Rish branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Though it is not my place, may I suggest in the strongest terms that before anything else is said, anyone not directly involved in this matter should be sent from the room. This is a matter of the utmost delicacy.¡±


    The king¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change at all. He looked thoughtful, nothing more. Then he asked the guards to leave, as well as Leata and Lord Ormund. Leata frowned, Lord Ormund looked resigned. No one spoke until the door closed again. Finally, the king got to say what he was going to say a few minutes before.


    ¡°Would someone kindly tell me what is going on?¡±


    He cast his gaze about the room, like a drowning man searching for a piece of driftwood to keep him afloat. Finally, Merck spoke.


    ¡°Your Majesty, if I may, my name is Merck Vanderoth, and I was a Swindler by trade. Due to a set of circumstances that is not directly relevant to this story, Tharin, the god of thieves found me displeasing and let me go. My skills were taken from me. I then found myself the Priest of a new god, but I do not know his name.¡±


    The king looked frustrated. ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know his name?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s George,¡± said Dahr. Everyone turned to stare at him. ¡°I mean it¡¯s not his real name, but it is what he prefers to be called.¡±


    Merck blinked. ¡°I am a priest of George? Really? I¡¯m not sure, but I think my story somehow just became less believable.¡±


    ¡°Believe it,¡± said the king. ¡°We have seen evidence of George¡¯s power.¡±


    ¡°As you say,¡± said Merck. ¡°If I may continue?¡±


    King Terrence inclined his head.


    ¡°At the time that I lost my class and gained another, I had a vision. And in that vision I saw a young boy.¡± He gestured toward Dahr. ¡°I was given no name, and no location. I was only told I needed to find him.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± interrupted the king.


    Merck drew a deep breath. ¡°Because this boy is going to end the undead threat.¡±


    Silence filled the throne room. No one spoke. No one commented. But each person present, even those who had heard this before, still had to roll the idea around in their head. End the undead threat. What would that look like?


    ¡°You expect me to believe that my fourteen-year-old son is going to end the undead threat? I have heard in my time on the throne many ludicrous statements, but the sheer audacity of this claim...are you sure you¡¯re not still a Swindler?¡±


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°Father, Merck didn¡¯t have a vision. I was there.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean you were there?¡±


    Dahr could see the king was getting agitated and held up both hands palm out in an attempt to calm him. ¡°Sometimes, I have visions. Except in this case, I wasn¡¯t seeing something, I actually was with Merck Vanderoth, wherever he was. That¡¯s how I knew he was coming.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to tell anyone?¡±


    ¡°Eric and Chari knew.¡±


    The king blew out his breath, and then took a deep one, clearly trying to calm himself.


    ¡°Oh, you told Eric and Chari. Well that¡¯s okay then. You do realize that I¡¯m not only the king, but I¡¯m also your father.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Father. I realize this. I also know that there are reasons to keep secrets sometimes, and this was one of those times. If you really wish to complain, I can put you in touch with George, and you can complain to him. Because I¡¯m getting quite tired of being scolded for doing what my god tells me to do which, by the way, is also what Sheba told me to do.¡±


    The king looked abashed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯re right. But this situation is¡­¡±


    ¡°Preposterous? Insane? Ludicrous?¡± Merck was ready to change the subject and pick up the story again. ¡°Yes, it is all of those things Your Highness. Put yourself in my place. I had lost a class, and gained a new one.  There I was, alone in the ancient ruins in a swamp, when my pursuers caught up with me, the Misfits of Karmenon.¡±


    ¡°The Misfits of Karmenon?¡±


    ¡°The name of my guild team, Your Majessssty,¡± said the serpent lord, bowing.


    The king nodded, and Merck continued. ¡°They saw that I¡¯d changed class and escorted me back to the local chapter of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, where we were sent on to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in Pelaro. On that trip, our Hunter, Striker, gained six levels in one night.¡±


    ¡°And I thought four was good,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°You leveled four times in one night?¡± asked Merck.


    ¡°I did. And Chari and Dahr leveled three on the same night.¡±


    ¡°It must have been some night.¡±


    ¡°You could say that,¡± said Chari.


    ¡°So,¡± continued Merck, ¡°not only did she gain levels, but she transitioned to a Beast Master, and tamed a kreve. And together we¡­¡±


    King Terrence interrupted. ¡°A kreve? She tamed a kreve? Do you expect me to believe this?¡±


    Andeon Walsh stepped forward. ¡°I have seen it with my own eyes, Your Highness.¡±


    King Terrence shook his head, partly in disbelief, but mostly in resignation.


    ¡°So, you¡¯ve found my son. What happens next?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Merck. ¡°I was hoping he did.¡±


    All eyes turned to Dahr.


    ¡°They should stay as guests at the palace.¡±


    Striker spoke now, for the first time. ¡°Stalker, my kreve, is still in the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. I can¡¯t leave her there alone.¡±


    The king shrugged. ¡°If she¡¯s part of the team, she¡¯s part of the team. Bring her. We can house her in the training yard for now. I¡¯d like to see her for myself anyway. And if she¡¯s here you can visit with her whenever you like.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Your Highness,¡± Striker bowed low.


    ¡°If it¡¯s okay with you, Your Highness,¡± said Maynor, ¡°I can help this young lady¡­¡±


    ¡°Striker.¡±


    ¡°Striker, bring her kreve back. You have control over it?¡±


    ¡°Completely.¡±


    ¡°Good. We should go now.¡±


    The king nodded, and Striker and Maynor both walked from the throne room.


    ¡°So we just wait, is that it?¡± asked the king.


    Dahr nodded. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think the wait will be long. Something tells me there¡¯s one final piece of the puzzle to be revealed.¡±


    ¡°Would you care to elaborate?¡±


    Dahr smiled mischievously. ¡°If I could elaborate, it wouldn¡¯t be a piece of the puzzle.¡±


    Eric shook his head, Chari groaned, but King Terrence laughed.


    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s get you all situated. Someone find Leata. We can get to know each other better over a late dinner.

 Chapter 29 - Youre Never Too Old

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Maynor studied the young Beast Master as they walked. She wasn¡¯t classically beautiful, but there was something attractive about her. She had short, straight blonde hair and striking blue green eyes that twinkled whenever she smiled, which was often. She seemed to laugh at the world, and that laughter was contagious. She was tall as well, almost as tall as him. She was, of course, far too young for him. Yet he was curious about a girl that could level six times in one night, and tame a kreve as a Level 1 Beast Master.  Well, he wasn¡¯t going to learn much just looking at her.


    ¡°So, six levels in one night? What was that like?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t really remember much of it. I passed out.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    ¡°You realize I still don¡¯t know who you are?¡±


    ¡°Oh...I¡¯m Maynor, captain of the guard.¡±


    ¡°Really? How amazing!¡± She smiled at him broadly. ¡°I¡¯ve never met a captain of the guard before. If I misbehave will you arrest me?¡±


    ¡°I would imagine that would depend on precisely how you misbehave. Tell me, do you think it¡¯s something you¡¯re likely to do?¡±


    ¡°Misbehave? Absolutely. It¡¯s the only time I¡¯m having fun.¡± And her eyes twinkled again.


    ¡°Tell me, what do you think of all this?¡±


    ¡°All what?¡±


    ¡°You know...everything that¡¯s going on.¡±  He didn¡¯t want to say more out in the open.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think. I¡¯m not important. I¡¯m just along for the ride. What about you? What¡¯s your role in all this?¡±


    ¡°Training the princes and Princess Chari. And that owl fellow, Kalutu. You saw him?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a were-owl. Very strange.¡±


    She looked interested. ¡°I should say so. Do the princes enjoy training?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes. I push them pretty hard.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d have to.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It¡¯s true. They had so little time to prepare and didn¡¯t even know what they were preparing for.¡±


    ¡°When you train, do you know what you¡¯re preparing for?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, but you have to train for the unexpected as well as the expected.¡±


    ¡°And how do you train for the unexpected?¡±


    ¡°You learn everything you can about everything. There really isn¡¯t any other way.¡±


    Striker looked thoughtful. ¡°You know, you should be more careful about who you reveal information to.¡±


    ¡°What information would that be?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve already told me you¡¯re training the princes and the princess. So if I were the enemy, and I took you out, they wouldn¡¯t get the same training. It would disrupt their training schedule.¡±


    ¡°What I told you is something anyone half competent would find out five minutes after they were in the palace. It¡¯s the stuff I¡¯m not saying that makes the difference.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re using this technique to interrogate me.¡± Striker looked impressed.


    ¡°I hope you won¡¯t hold it against me.¡±


    She smiled, playfully. ¡°Perhaps I will hold it against you. It¡¯s what most men seem to enjoy.¡±


    Maynor let the comment go. Whatever game she was playing, he wanted no part of it. Yet, he was enjoying himself. He seldom had this kind of conversation and didn¡¯t think this Tier 2 Beast Master represented any kind of serious threat. Still, it paid to take precautions. He couldn¡¯t let himself get distracted by her flirtatious nature. He reminded himself she remained, like the rest of her team, an unknown quantity.


    ¡°Will you spar with me, later?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m sure I could use a pointer or two.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see. It depends on what else is going on.¡±


    Striker looked disappointed, and he almost relented, but then a finger of doubt touched him. Why was a young girl like that flirting with an old guy like him. Of course, he knew there were women who liked older men, but it had never happened to him. His intuition told him to keep an eye on her. She may look and sound like a flirtatious young woman, but she was also a woman who, like the young royals at the palace, had leveled extremely fast. That implied she was directly related to current events, in spite of her denial.  In spite of her insistence at being along for the ride, she was a part of this. And though he couldn¡¯t see exactly where she fit in, he thought it was important that he find out. It¡¯s why he had volunteered to accompany her.


    He studied her as they walked. He¡¯d have to keep an eye on her, which he had to admit was easy enough. He just had to keep reminding himself that she remained, at all times, a potential threat to the young royals.


    *


    Each of the Misfits of Karmenon were given their own room in the same corridor of the palace. It was clearly a guest wing for minor nobles, which was quite a step up from the rooms they were used to. Merck sat on the edge of the bed, took off his boots and fell backwards without getting undressed. He was so tired, but it was done. His improbably named god had asked him to find an unnamed boy somewhere in the world, and he had done so.


    Of course, George hadn¡¯t said Dahr would end the undead threat. He¡¯d said that Merck would end it. Merck had been very careful not to mention this fact to anyone. If the Undead King found out that a god had prophesied that Merck was going to put an end to the threat he represented¡­the very thought send a chill through him.


    And while he had changed at least on one level, he not only wasn¡¯t cut out to be a target, he hadn¡¯t been trained to be one either. So what if everyone thought Dahr was the threat. Let them focus on Dahr, so Merck could do what needed to be done.  That was reasonable, right? I mean if he were the one to end the undead threat, he couldn¡¯t very well risk himself, could he? And Dahr was a prince. He¡¯d be defended. No one was going to let a prince die.


    Merck only had a Tier 1 team of adventurers protecting him; Dahr had the entire palace guard. He¡¯d be fine. And Merck could do whatever it is that he was supposed to. Merck would end the undead threat, while Dahr distracted everyone. It was a good plan, better than many of the plans he¡¯d had when he had been a Swindler, and most of those had worked out just fine.


    Admittedly, back then his confidence had been artificially bolstered by sizzle, a crutch he no longer had available. While that was a positive step forward in his life, he missed feeling invincible, even if he knew the feeling had been an illusion. Now that he¡¯d gone straight and could think more clearly, Merck realized he was completely unqualified for whatever tasks lay ahead. He was a new, low level priest with no training, no guidance, no experience other than being a Swindler, and those skills had been taken from him.


    The very training he lacked was the kind of training Prince Dahr would have received. Perhaps he should have been the one that George had selected, instead of Merck. That would have been better for everyone. Merck had barely slept since that fateful day in the swamp. Life was more complicated than it had ever been, and he had none of the tools to deal with any of it. Thank George for the Misfits of Karmenon. Ironic really, considering how they¡¯d met.


    His thoughts continued to circle like buzzards over a man dying in the desert, when he eventually drifted off.


    It was much later when he woke to a knocking on his door. Merck awoke confused, not sure at first where he was, or what time it might be.


    ¡°Who is it?¡±


    ¡°The king wishes to take a late night meal with you and your team. In a short time, we will come and collect you. Please be ready.¡±


    Ready? How does one prepare to dine with a king? And what was that dream he¡¯d had about? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was something important. Something that he needed to remember...but he couldn¡¯t.


    Okay, don¡¯t try. Do what you have to do to get ready. It basically amounted to washing up. He had no formal clothes to put on. He had no time to take a bath, and probably wouldn¡¯t if he¡¯d had the time. The king surely didn¡¯t expect a ragtag group of adventurers to be courtiers.


    He was in the process of pouring water from a pitcher into a basin when a thought popped into his head, a piece of the dream. He had seen Dahr and Eric in a cart, riding with a tall, shaggy, brown-haired giant of a man. Eric was smiling happily in the back of the cart, looking around as if he were taking in the sights. Dahr was having a conversation with the man, asking him questions, trying to get information. Though Dahr outwardly seemed okay, Merck could tell he didn¡¯t want to be there and knew at once that the man was the enemy. He had somehow taken the princes. He¡¯d kidnapped them.  Against all odds, he¡¯d gotten them out of the palace and out of the city of Rish.


    Unless it was just a dream. That was possible, right? It might be nothing. But he knew deep down that this was information provided by George. And that meant in all likelihood it was true. After all, George had shown him Dahr, and he turned out to be real.


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    Now what? Should he tell someone?


    He didn¡¯t know a tremendous amount about royalty but definitely thought that telling a king that his sons would be taken didn¡¯t seem like a good thing to do. And he didn¡¯t have anything to go by. He didn¡¯t get a good look at the man, who was in the driver¡¯s seat of the cart, so he could only see him from behind.  He¡¯d seen glimpses of his face each time he turned his head to answer Dahr. He didn¡¯t know the man¡¯s name. He didn¡¯t know where they were, or even when this would happen.


    What would he say? He had a dream? What if he said it and it turned out to be just a dream? Merck may have been a Priest, but it had only been for a very short period of time. He had no idea how all this worked. He was terrified of making a mistake.


    So, he wouldn¡¯t volunteer the information unless he had reason to do so, though he wouldn¡¯t lie if someone asked. That was a safe plan of action. He would go have dinner and keep his head down. If the princes were going to be taken, there was nothing he could do about it and furthermore, he had no idea if this wasn¡¯t something that needed to happen to end the undead threat. The decision made, he relaxed.


    Whatever was going to happen was perhaps days away. There would be plenty of time to worry. Whatever was going to happen, Merck was a part of that, an important part. Important enough for a god to seek him out. Merck had never been important before and wasn¡¯t sure he liked it. He was no knight, no prince, no storied adventurer. He was just a young man who had chosen a bad path in hard times. There were tens of thousands like him all over the world. Hard luck cases, who either died on the streets, or learned how to survive successfully. He might have been either at one point. But then he had joined another group of people who never survived...he had become a sizzle addict.


    Sizzle addicts didn¡¯t often recover, at least, he¡¯d never  heard of one doing so. It was an insidious fate. Even before the first time he dosed himself, he knew how dangerous it was...so why had he done it?


    And he knew at that moment, the truth. He had taken the drug because deep inside, he wanted to die and knew it was the only way a coward like him could bring himself to end it. It had been less of a decision and more of an attempt at slow suicide. Had his life been that bad? Had he been so troubled? Was being a Swindler so abhorrent to him? No, that hadn¡¯t been it at all. He liked fooling people and getting away with it. He loved the feeling he got when he had that big score, so what was it?


    Images popped into his mind. His father beating his mother. Merck, a small boy standing helplessly watching. The fear, the pain, the humiliation of being completely helpless. It never left you.  Nothing that had happened to him after that had done anything but reinforce what his father had said about him throughout his entire childhood. He was worthless. Good for nothing. Useless. And he had been. There was nothing he could do to defend his mother or stand up to his father. He ended up a petty criminal in a world of petty criminals, living off the crumbs he could steal from more well to do sorts. He only ever took the tiniest fraction of what they had and somehow considered that success. He had been worthless.


    If someone had told him that a year later he¡¯d be in the palace at Rish in a noble¡¯s guest room, or that he¡¯d somehow be part of an adventuring team, he¡¯d have laughed. But here he was, a member of the Misfits of Karmenon in a king¡¯s palace, about to have dinner with the king himself. He thought about sizzle then and realized he no longer needed it, because he no longer wanted his life to end. Instead, against all odds, he was dying to know what would happen next.


    *


    The short walk from the palace to the guild building took far longer than Maynor had thought it would. They weren¡¯t walking fast to begin with, but they paused often to examine some of the temple architecture, even entering a handful to have a quick look at the interior. Maynor knew he should get back to the palace, but part of him also felt that Striker herself was worth this extra scrutiny. No one else in the Misfits had leveled as she had, or transitioned into a new specialization, or ended up with a pet kreve. Or was that just an excuse to spend more time with her? It bothered him that he couldn¡¯t honestly say.


    By the time they reached the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and managed to locate the guild official that would allow them access to Stalker, it was already later than he¡¯d hoped, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to be annoyed or feel panicked. The Tier 1 team in the palace was no threat at all to King Terrance or Queen Treya. The only possible threat on that team was here with him. It would be fine. Realizing that, he relaxed, just a little.


    Finally, they were led to the room where Stalker waited, and Maynor saw her for the first time. Huge, black, terrifying, or she would have been to most people. Maynor approached boldly and circled her, confident he could react quickly enough to defend himself should she attack.


    ¡°Easy, Stalker, he¡¯s a friend.¡±


    He could feel the beast relax. He placed a tentative hand on its side and when it didn¡¯t react, he stroked the thick, smooth fur. The beast closed its eyes clearly enjoying the attention.


    He would have liked to spend some time allowing Stalker to get to know him, but they really had to get back to the palace.


    The return journey, with the two of them accompanied by Stalker, was as routine as something like that could be. People panicked and ran the moment they saw the creature, which amused Maynor, who gave up trying to reassure them early on. The control Striker had over the beast, particularly for her level, was startling. But like anything that wasn¡¯t really a threat, he soon put it from his mind. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t stay aware of it. Maynor was always aware of his surroundings. It was part of his training. But the kreve remained in the back of his mind, ever-present, a possible threat but not something he needed to pay attention to consistently. Which left more of his attention for Striker.


    There was something odd about her, but he couldn¡¯t figure out what it was.  Maynor was no stranger to beautiful women. He¡¯d been around nobles for a long, long time, and some, knowing he was close to the king, had made it clear that they would be open to a sexual relationship. This was something that Maynor would never consider. It would compromise his position as captain of the guard. Striker was something else entirely.


    It was true that she represented a possible threat. He couldn¡¯t rule that out completely. But she didn¡¯t have any real reason to seduce him, because as a commoner, she wouldn¡¯t get anything out of it. He wasn¡¯t going to give her information. He wasn¡¯t going to break any rules for her. Unlike the nobility, she had no actual power over him. And it had been a long time since he¡¯d been with a woman, and that had been Leata.


    His relationship with the seneschal had been strange. It wasn¡¯t romantic. It wasn¡¯t serious, yet it wasn¡¯t casual either. It was two worldly veterans blowing off steam, mutually enjoying each other¡¯s company on the rare occasions they both had a free moment.  That relationship never really ended because it had never really began. They were friends and would remain so, whether they slept in the same bed or not.


    Leata never flirted with him. There was no strong attraction on either side. It was an occasional coupling of convenience and nothing more. While the two shared a mutual respect, they both knew that in an actual relationship, they¡¯d kill each other within a few months. Leata was too detail oriented, and too used to being in charge of everything. Maynor was a free spirit who despised being told what to do, unless the king or queen were the ones doing the telling, but that was duty.  Beyond that, he was in charge of the guard. The two of them in an actual relationship? It could never work.


    But Striker treated him like he was someone special, and he wasn¡¯t used to that. Despite being from a minor noble family himself, Maynor was seen as the captain of the guard, the only rank that had real meaning to him. And guards, after all, were simply servants with swords. There was nothing special about what he did, not in his mind. He had a duty and performed it to the best of his ability. No one was particularly impressed with him, except perhaps the guards under his command. But Striker seemed impressed. Seemed drawn to him. And he felt drawn to her as well. How long had it been since he¡¯d felt this way? He couldn¡¯t remember.


    They reached the palace and managed to get Stalker into the practice yard just around the time dinner was being served. They only found out about it by chance, when they saw servants carrying food from the kitchens and followed them. Only then did he realize how ravenous he was. The day had gotten away from him, and he hadn¡¯t had anything since the early lunch that had replaced the breakfast he had skipped to train the princes and Princess Chari.


    The servants led them straight to one of the smaller banquet halls, where the Misfits of Karmenon were eating with King Terrence, Queen Treya, King Leonid and Queen Rhea. Leata and Lord Ormund were present as well. He was surprised that Lord Ormund sat just to the King¡¯s left, until he realized the king was probably using him to surreptitiously read the classes and levels of each of the Misfits, as well as to see if any of them were lying.


    There were two seats at the end of the table, and he and Striker each took one. He hadn¡¯t really wanted to sit near her, considering how jumbled his thoughts were. He wanted time away to sort them. But that wasn¡¯t how it went, and so they talked with each other and those closest to them, Borin, Dreek and Garne.


    From the brief conversations he had with each of them, he thought they were probably okay, though he didn¡¯t have much experience with phase shifters. Of all the Misfits, Dreek was the one who made him the most nervous. How did you defend against a guest that could walk through walls? Having to accept that level of potential intrusion went against his every instinct.


    There was a huge amount of food, and he realized this was the meal that had been prepared for the wedding feast. He wolfed down everything on his plate like a starving man, and Striker seemed amused as she watched him. She ate at a more leisurely pace, seeming to enjoy each bite. Maynor realized she probably wasn¡¯t use to such fair, where as he had come to take it for granted.


    There was some sort of roast meat, which he was fairly sure was boar, mixed vegetables drizzled with  honey sauce, potatoes with onions in a heavy cream sauce, and a selection of wines, or ale for those who preferred that, which seemed to be most of the Misfits.


    The conversation was mostly a retelling of the story and trying to figure out if they could glean any clue of what they were supposed to do next.  No one knew. By the time he¡¯d eaten his fill, he found himself growing sleepy. Several of the Misfits had already given up on the day and asked for leave to return to their rooms, which King Terrence granted.


    Not surprisingly, Dahr, Kalutu, Eric and Chari seemed wide awake, fascinated by the Misfits of Karmenon. They asked innumerable questions about serpent lords, phase shifters, salads, adventuring, and the events that had led them to Rish.  From his position at the far end of the table he couldn¡¯t hear all of it, but he heard enough. He¡¯d also had some wine which he regretted now as it was making it harder to stay awake.


    Eventually the king called an end to the dinner, and everyone returned to their room. Apparently Striker had had a bit too much to drink as well, for she was stumbling. He followed her to make sure that she reached her room, but when she entered, she didn¡¯t close the door. She looked at him. He couldn¡¯t remember the last time a woman looked at him that way.


    He knew entering would be a mistake. Not that he thought anything bad would come of it, but he also knew that it wasn¡¯t the responsible thing to do. But when she looked at him, there was a hunger in her eyes that made him wish he was twenty years younger. He knew he shouldn¡¯t. He had other responsibilities.


    ¡°Are you just going to stand out there in the hallway, or will you come in?¡±


    He had to fight the impulse, but he did fight it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Striker. You¡¯re very attractive, but you¡¯re also a guest of the king. I would be betraying my duty if I stayed with you tonight.¡±


    ¡°What if I had something to tell you that you don¡¯t know yet, that might give you an advantage when dealing with the Misfits. There may be some things you don¡¯t realize.¡±


    That was interesting. He knew she was baiting him. Playing on his desire to know everything.


    ¡°Just one kiss, and I¡¯ll tell you something you probably need to know.¡±


    He still hesitated. There was something wrong. He could feel it. Something nagging at the back of his mind. Yet he stepped into the room.


    ¡°One kiss.¡±


    She smiled. Approached him. Looked up into his eyes. Then her lips met his, and the world went away. He never did learn what she was going to tell him, because his entire world became desire. It was a kiss that went on longer than any kiss he could remember, and when their lips parted, he was fumbling to remove her clothing and she was doing the same to him. He almost didn¡¯t remember to close the door, but did so at the last minute.


    What followed wasn¡¯t the cool, casual sex he¡¯d shared with Leata. This was primal, animalistic, passionate. Something he hadn¡¯t experienced in many, many years. And then he got lost in it, the pleasure, the desire, the intensity. This was something beyond Maynor¡¯s experience. This was magical.


    At the thought, warning bells went off somewhere in his head, but he was too far gone to acknowledge them. When they came together, there was an energy there, a power that demanded his full attention. And he rode a wave that seemed to build and build and build until the sensations consumed him, then he let go. And afterward, everything he had been thinking was gone, lost on a sea of exhaustion he hadn¡¯t felt in more years than he could remember.

 Chapter 30 - One Final Lesson

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    Leata had arranged a suite for Eric and Chari, who for the first time would be sharing a bed. Probably not the best night for it, but they had to get through that first time at some point. At least they were in the palace. When it began, whatever it was, who knew where they would end up?


    Leata showed them to their new chambers, which were very much to Chari¡¯s liking. There was a large living area with a fireplace, a sofa and several comfortable chairs facing it. There was a small bedroom off to one side, most likely for a servant, and a master bedroom off to the other. It was all well-furnished, mostly in earthy colors, browns and greens. No patterns at all, just solid colors. Everything had rounded edges, instead of sharp corners.


    ¡°Nice,¡± said Chari, almost immediately upon entering.


    Leta stood with them, just past the door. ¡°Glad you like it. I¡¯ll leave you to it. Congratulations to you both. I¡¯m so proud of you.¡±


    Eric looked at Leata surprised. ¡°Thank you, Leata, for everything. You feel it too, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I think I do. I don¡¯t know what will happen, or how, but I believe in you, My Prince. And though I don¡¯t know Princess Chari as well as you, I believe in her too. I suppose I have to since Sheba does.¡±


    Eric nodded. Chari cleared her throat. At first, Eric thought it was because she was uncomfortable at the praise, but then he realized what she meant.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Leata. ¡°Good night, Your Highnesses.¡±


    She bowed and was gone from the room.


    ¡°Finally!¡± said Chari.


    ¡°She would have left in a few minutes,¡± said Eric amused.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting all night. I thought dinner would never end. Shall we inspect the bedroom?¡± She held out a hand to Eric.


    He smiled and took it. He seemed tense. Eric was perfectly at home protecting people he loved from danger, but this was something else. Chari watched him with a mixture of amusement and fondness. She didn¡¯t often see Eric out of his comfort zone and found it enjoyable.


    The bedroom was in the same color scheme as the lounge. There were the usual chests of drawers, and at the far end of the room a very large canopy bed.


    ¡°That¡¯s a big bed,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s good. You never know how much space we might need.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t planning on jousting on it, were you?¡±


    Chari laughed. ¡°I might consider it, but only one of us has a lance.¡±


    Eric looks surprised, then broke into laughter. She joined him. The joke had broken the tension.


    Eric turned his gaze back to the bed. Chari wasn¡¯t sure he had noticed anything else in the room.


    ¡°So, what say we get out of these clothes?¡± she said.


    Eric looked at her again, and slowly took off his vest. His eyes were on her now.


    ¡°You know, maybe we could just lie down for a little...on the bed,¡± he said.


    Chari smiled gently and shook her head, bemused. ¡°Sure.¡±


    And so they lay there for a long time, just holding each other. They had all night, after all, and Chari wanted Eric¡¯s first time to be memorable. Of course it was her first time too. She was just more ready for it. Though they were the same age, she felt like she had been left to her own devices more and so had grown up faster. Eric seemed a bit more sheltered, in everything perhaps but combat.


    She was lying there, letting her mind drift, when she dozed off.  Eric must have too, because a short time later they were woken by a gentle tapping. At first she didn¡¯t hear it.  When she realized what had happened, she frowned but disentangled herself from Eric and without waking him went to the door.


    ¡°This had better be good.¡±


    ¡°Sorry to disturb you.¡±


    Maynor¡¯s voice. She opened the door. Two guards stood to attention at either side, not Twylian guards, but the men at arms her father had brought with him from Melar. It made Chari bristle. She didn¡¯t need guards, and they wouldn¡¯t likely be able to help anyway. Whatever was going to happen was already in motion. She couldn¡¯t blame her parents though. She was their only child, and they were doing what they could. Perhaps when it started, it would give them a small measure of peace that at least they had tried to protect her.


    She turned her attention to Maynor, who looked tired and a bit rough, like he had been woken from sleep only a short time ago. There was no urgency when he spoke, however.


    ¡°I need Eric for a short time. I¡¯m sorry to disturb your wedding night, but there are a few things I need to tell him. Privately, I fear.¡±


    Chari looked annoyed, then nodded, but she didn¡¯t open the door for him to enter. Instead she closed it again, and found Eric just getting out of bed.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Maynor said he needs you.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea. I didn¡¯t ask. But he wants to talk to you. Privately.¡±


    Eric put his vest back on. Chari watched him look around for his boots.


    ¡°You¡¯re wearing them. You were so distracted by the idea of sex, you didn¡¯t even think to take them off.¡±


    Eric looked embarrassed. ¡°You might have mentioned it.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°You¡¯d have gotten around to it. And whatever is going on, you¡¯d better get back here soon, young man. We have a marriage to consummate.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d you get so romantic?¡± asked Eric.


    Chari grinned. ¡°Just hurry up and get back here.¡±


    There was nothing else left to do but go with Maynor, but before he left, he kissed her, a gentle promise that he would return, and they would continue where they left off.


    Then he was gone and the door closed behind him.


    ¡°Maynor damn well better have a good reason for this.¡±


    Sulkily, she sat down to wait, realizing that the sofa was far more comfortable than it looked.


    *


    It was very late at night when Kalutu heard the knock on the door. It was so low that he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d heard it at first. He crossed the room and opened it. Outside stood Maynor, looking disheveled but relaxed.


    ¡°Hello Kalutu. Would you please wake Prince Dahr? With time running out, I think he needs to learn one final lesson.¡±


    Kalutu looked surprised, but followed instructions. Soon a bleary eyed prince appeared in the anteroom.


    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± asked Dahr.


    ¡°Yes, but there¡¯s still one lesson I¡¯ve been saving for the end. I had hoped to have more time, but here we are. Get dressed, and come with me.¡±


    ¡°Now? What time is it?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Danger doesn¡¯t wait for you to wake up. Sometimes, you have to adapt to circumstance. I want to see how well you adapt. Oh, Kalutu, just Prince Dahr. You remain here, please. I¡¯ll send for you shortly after the lesson is over, and you can join us.¡±


    Kalutu didn¡¯t at all like the sound of that. However, Maynor was in charge of their combat training, so he nodded, waited for Dahr to dress, and closed the door when they left.


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    Dahr followed Maynor through the palace corridors. He tried to figure out what their destination was going to be. To his surprise, they were heading toward the kitchen. He started to ask why, but Maynor held a finger to his lips.


    When they got there, he saw Eric standing near a table that the chef used to prepare food. There was a wooden stool next to him, but Eric must have stood when he¡¯d heard them coming.


    ¡°Maynor, what¡¯s going on?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I teach you patience, My Prince? Follow me, please.¡±


    He led them through yet more corridors and out the servant¡¯s entrance to one of the gates where, to their amazement, Striker stood with her pet kreve, but the guards were conspicuously absent. Striker looked like she was expecting them.


    Eric and Dahr stared at the beast, never having seen one before. Like something out of a nightmare, it loomed before them, parts of it seeming to blend with the shadows around it.


    ¡°It¡¯s all teeth,¡± said Dahr. ¡°I hope it¡¯s eaten.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Maynor. ¡°She won¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    ¡°Is she not hungry because she already ate the guards?¡± asked Dahr.


    Striker laughed. ¡°Come on. We don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    Maynor opened the gate, and the five of them left the palace behind; Eric, Dahr, Striker, Maynor and Stalker, who ranged ahead.


    The streets were mostly deserted and, by the time Stalker had passed, they were completely deserted. One look at the beast had sent people fleeing. They passed quickly through the temple and guild districts and then into the city proper.


    This wasn¡¯t somewhere Eric went often, but it wasn¡¯t his first time. Dahr looked around with interest.


    ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± asked Eric.


    Maynor didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°We¡¯re going outside.¡±


    ¡°Outside? Outside the city gates? Does my father know we¡¯re going?¡± asked Eric.


    To Eric¡¯s surprise, it was Dahr who answered. ¡°No, Eric. Father doesn¡¯t know about this.¡±


    Eric was going to ask something else, but seemed to think better of it.


    When they finally reached the wall, Maynor had a word with the guards, and they opened the gates just enough to let the kreve and the rest of the group out. Then they were outside on the plains surrounding the city. The same plains that a short time ago were filled with the fires of people commemorating a hundred year old battle. Eric had had enough.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere until you explain what¡¯s going on,¡± he said to Maynor.


    ¡°Sure you are,¡± said Dahr. ¡°This is what we¡¯ve been waiting for.¡±


    ¡°Then let Maynor say that himself,¡± said Eric.


    Dahr shook his head. ¡°The person you really need to ask is Striker.¡±


    Eric turned to Striker, who stared at the two of them surprised.


    ¡°Is this true?¡± asked Eric.


    She didn¡¯t address him, but turned to Maynor instead.


    ¡°Go back to the palace. It¡¯s late and you¡¯re tired. Tomorrow, you¡¯ll remember nothing of this.¡±


    Maynor, as if in a dream, smiled, nodded and turned around, saying nothing at all to the princes. When he was gone, Striker motioned for them to follow. Dahr started walking, but Eric just stood there.


    ¡°Just wait.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Dahr. ¡°We have to see this through, Eric.¡±


    ¡°But no one knows where we are.¡±


    Dahr smiled, sadly. ¡°Which means no one else can get hurt.¡±


    Eric thought about that for a moment and reluctantly started walking.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand. Dahr, do you know what¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°I think I do.¡± Dahr looked at Striker. ¡°You¡¯re one of them, aren¡¯t you? One of the undead.¡±


    She looked at him surprised. ¡°Now how can you possibly know that?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s something you don¡¯t need to know.¡±


    ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± asked Eric.


    ¡°Does it matter?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°She¡¯s taking us to the Undead King,¡± said Dahr.


    Eric had been studying Striker, but now he whirled on Dahr.


    ¡°Are you mad? We¡¯re turning around right now.¡±


    ¡°No, Eric, we¡¯re not. We are exactly where we need to be.¡±


    ¡°Did George tell you that?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t have to. Can¡¯t you feel it?¡±


    ¡°No. I only know that with every step I take, I¡¯m getting further and further from my new wife.¡±


    Dahr looked apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that, but there are things we don¡¯t get to choose. You know that. And honestly, isn¡¯t it better that she remains safe in the palace?¡±


    Eric thought about that. He remembered his mother¡¯s body surrounded by undead, and a fire began to build inside of him.


    ¡°We should capture her and take her back with us.¡±


    ¡°Eric, she¡¯s Tier 2 and has a giant kreve for a pet. Do you really think we can do that, just the two of us?¡±


    Eric studied the kreve and then Striker.


    ¡°What did you do to Maynor?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine. He¡¯ll sleep it off and in the morning he¡¯ll just be a bit tired. I must say, you¡¯re taking this better than I expected. Of course, I didn¡¯t expect you to unravel what I was so soon.¡±


    ¡°But now that we know, you expect us to follow you to the Undead King?¡±


    ¡°Actually I¡¯m not taking you to my king. I¡¯m taking you to my queen. No one has seen the Undead King in more than 50 years.¡±


    ¡°But what about the Undead War?¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t here for that, though we did attack on his instruction. He¡¯s been traveling...somewhere called Earth, but I don¡¯t know where that is.¡±


    Eric didn¡¯t have time to consider the implications of everything that had just been said.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going with you.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Striker.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Eric with the conviction of a king giving an order. At that moment, even Dahr believed that nothing could budge Eric from that spot. He had made up his mind. But Striker¡¯s orders came from a different throne, and whatever power his words might have had in other company had no affect on the undead.


    ¡°Prince Eric, I have many powers at my disposal, but there¡¯s one that is stronger than the others. If I use it, you¡¯ll regret it for the rest of your life.¡±


    ¡°Are you threatening me?¡±


    Striker grinned. ¡°I guess you can say that. The power I speak of is seduction. I strongly suspect I can get you to do whatever I tell you to do. After all, it worked on Maynor, and he¡¯s a much higher level than you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a very strange threat,¡± said Eric.


    ¡°Yes, well. It certainly wouldn¡¯t kill you, and you¡¯d undoubtedly enjoy it, but there¡¯s no telling what Princess Chari would do when she found out.¡±


    Eric paused for a second, mind racing. If he couldn¡¯t control himself and ended up having sex with Striker, it would hurt Chari terribly. Particularly if it was the first time. Chari had made no secret of her feelings on infidelity. He tried to picture her reaction when she found out that Eric had lost his virginity to Striker instead of her.  He could picture the pain in her eyes. She wouldn¡¯t be able to blame him, but she wouldn¡¯t be able to live with it either. It wouldn¡¯t be his fault, but she wouldn¡¯t be able to accept that reality. It would be as bad as if he had chosen to do it. It would break her.


    He wondered if Striker could take him against his will and then thought about Maynor. His strange behavior. The far off look in his eyes. The fact that he¡¯d walked off without acknowledging either him or Dahr. He realized that Striker wasn¡¯t making an idle threat. She could do what she claimed she could, but Chari would suffer the consequences, and that he couldn¡¯t allow.


    Eric had one more card left to play. After all, Striker had only arrived that day and couldn¡¯t know much about the situation at the palace. ¡°Chari and I barely know each other. We have an arranged marriage. What makes you think Chari cares who I do or don¡¯t have sex with?¡±


    Striker shook her head ruefully. ¡°You still don¡¯t get it, do you? Prince Eric, I¡¯ve been with the Misfits of Karmenon for many long months now. I¡¯ve had long conversations with the guild master of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in Pelaro. I¡¯ve been living among humans for longer than you¡¯ve been alive. Do you really think I¡¯m the only one?¡±


    Eric stood stunned. A glance at Dahr told him he had the same reaction. ¡°Are you suggesting you have spies in the palace at Twyl?¡±


    ¡°I suggest nothing. I¡¯m stating it straight out.¡±


    Eric turned imploringly to Dahr. ¡°Now do you see why we have to go back?¡±


    ¡°Eric, you¡¯re not thinking clearly. This is Sheba¡¯s will. It¡¯s what she¡¯s wanted from the beginning. Think about it. I was pulled into your transition, and George was there waiting. Sheba said that me serving George served her purpose. George was the one who introduced me to Merck, who happened to have the Misfits of Karmenon hot on his trail. Striker was there. Do you really think Sheba doesn¡¯t know what she is? Do you think that Sheba wasn¡¯t involved in placing her in the palace. This has always been the plan, Eric. From the very beginning. Every step of the way  has been guided and controlled by your goddess. Are you going to deny her now?¡±


    Dahr could see the raging conflict played out on Eric¡¯s face. The doubt, the fear, and the effort of thinking through all of it to come to the only conclusion he could. When he spoke, his voice was hard and cold, but also resigned.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll come.¡±


    Dahr turned to continue, Striker relaxed, and Eric leapt at her, summoning his shield, and drawing his sword in a single motion. Stalker roared and charged, barreling into him, sending him flying. Eric landed hard on the ground, but somehow rolled and regained his feet. He launched himself toward them using Protector¡¯s Leap. It helped close the gap, but he¡¯d been knocked back so far, he was still out of striking range.


    ¡°Stalker, sit!¡± snapped Striker.


    The beast sat, but continued to growl and snarl at Eric.


    Striker crossed the remaining distance between them faster than Eric could have imagined, one second yards away, then beside him. She grabbed him with a strength that no mere human could match, planting her lips hard against his. He was like a child in her grasp. He struggled helplessly while she kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss he could do nothing about.


    He felt light headed, aroused, able to think less and less as each second passed, and moment by moment he felt the strength leave him. Dahr stood and watched, not moving at all. He wanted to, but his limbs were not his own. At first he thought Striker was controlling him too, until he realized it was George¡¯s influence. He tried to fight it only briefly, but he was just a young man. He had no strength to fight a god, or whatever George was.


    When Striker finally pulled away, Eric stood transfixed, a dreamy smile on his face.


    ¡°There,¡± said Striker, ¡°much better. Prince Eric, follow me please. And be quick about it. We have to be far away from here before the search begins.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Striker.¡±


    She started walking. A moment later, Dahr felt whatever was holding him fade and he could follow as well. There was no hope of leaving now even if he wanted to, because he couldn¡¯t leave Eric alone with Striker. Not after what he saw. They had no choice but to follow her orders and wait for an opportunity, though what sort of opportunity he was waiting for, he had no idea.


    Striker moved away from the city, Dahr almost next to her and Eric just behind them. And every step drew Eric and Dahr further and further away from the city of Rish. Away from their parents. Away from Chari and Kalutu. Away from everything they knew and loved.


    Dahr felt alone. Eric was with him but was completely under Striker¡¯s control. Everyone else was gone. Well, everyone except George, and Dahr no longer considered him trustworthy. Still, there was no one else to turn to.


    ¡°George,¡± he whispered, ¡°I just thought you should know, I¡¯m pretty annoyed right now. You¡¯d better stay out of my way.¡±


    George chuckled in his mind. Is that any way to talk to your benefactor?


    ¡°What¡¯s your game?¡±


    My game isn¡¯t the problem. This whole thing is Sheba¡¯s plan, not mine. And I¡¯m caught up in it, the same as you are. Blame me, if you like, but I¡¯m a victim here. But we can still win, Dahr. Believe me when I tell you that.


    Dahr didn¡¯t reply but instead trudged along besides Striker, wondering if he could believe anything that came from George.

 Epilogue - Those Left Behind

    Sixteenth of Learning 1142


    King Terrence and Queen Treya slept soundly in the royal chambers, secure in the knowledge that their sons, for the time being at least, were safe behind palace walls. They had guards watching the rooms of the Misfits of Karmenon, but Veloran had more or less vouched for them. It was clear they were an expected part of all that was happening, and thus part of Sheba¡¯s plan for the boys. So they slept and dreamt.


    King Terrence dreamt of Cora and assured her he was taking care of Dahr to the best of his ability. Even in his dream, her gratitude suffused him with guilt, an ever-present weight not only in his dreams but in the waking world as well. There would be no escape for King Terrence, because Cora was gone and would never return. That was his burden to bear.


    Queen Treya dreamt of walking across desert sands when a storm of flowers blew through, transforming everything as it passed. She marveled at the riot of colors from wildflowers that were suddenly everywhere. She drew in a breath and the perfume of the flowers seemed so real that she almost woke in surprise but didn¡¯t. She continued moving through the formerly barren landscape, amazed anew each passing moment, the way you could only be in a dream. It was all so beautiful.


    Leata didn¡¯t sleep at first, wondering instead about the eclectic team who stayed in the palace that night and how they fit into everything that was going on. She thought of the princes and Princess Chari. She thought of Kalutu. The pieces of the puzzle kept her up, but soon even she was forced to yield her consciousness. She dreamt of marrying Maynor and even in her dream scoffed at the idea. Maynor and her were fine as a casual pairing, but married? It was too late for the both of them.


    Maynor slept without a worry in the world, a thing he had not done for decades, completely unaware that the princes were no longer in the palace, or that Striker was somehow involved in their disappearance. In fact, he didn¡¯t think of Striker at all. Maynor slept soundly through a dreamless night, completely unaware that he had committed treason.


    King Leonid and Queen Rhea slept, proud of the daughter they could almost not recognize. In just a couple of weeks Chari had transitioned from a child to a young woman, accepting her responsibility as a member of the royal family of Melar. King Leonid dreamt of women he had loved, who hadn¡¯t loved him, and it didn¡¯t matter to him one whit. When you were the one with the power, the thoughts and desires of others were not your concern. And if they were wise, they would make sure it stayed that way.


    Queen Rhea dreamt of her daughter¡¯s wedding. Not the small, private, low-key affair she had attended, but what it might have been if she¡¯d had her way. Chari looked beautiful in her wedding gown, Eric looked handsome, and everyone was smiling and happy for them. She cried in her sleep, partly because it was so beautiful and partly because it would never come to pass, and even in sleep she was aware of the fact.


    Ressssen didn¡¯t sleep right away. Her mind was filled with ending the undead threat. She was ready to do whatever was necessary to make that happen. It would be not only her legacy, but her team¡¯s legacy as well. They would all share in the glory, and Ressssen would go down in history as one of the greatest adventurers who had ever lived. She would be the pride of her people. She would earn the respect that had been denied her. Respect that should have already been hers. That she had to travel to human lands to get it was of little consequence. One day, she would return home in triumph. When she finally drifted off, she dreamt about Striker, and the two princes walking away from the city into the surrounding darkness. The dream felt so real, and it disturbed her so much that she woke in the middle of the night but, realizing it was a dream, she turned over and went back to sleep, careful not to bang herself on the headboard, which due to her height happened more often than she would care to admit.


    Garne fell asleep almost immediately and dreamt of a woman he had loved and lost. She was there again, in front of him, beautiful, radiant, eyes sparkling with life and intelligence. And when their eyes met, he saw the forgiveness in them he knew he didn¡¯t deserve, but in spite of that, for the first time since she had died in his arms, he felt at peace.


    Unlike Garne, it took Merck Vanderoth a very long time to even close his eyes. Having fulfilled his task, Merck¡¯s mind buzzed with possibilities of what the future might hold. He wondered again about his new god, felt silly that he had been told that he went by the name George, but finally closed his eyes and prayed to him anyway. He prayed for things he¡¯d never before desired¨Cwisdom, courage, the strength to keep moving forward into the unknown future that seemed so scary and yet was also the greatest of reliefs. Because a man addicted to sizzle had no future. Addicts paid for their pain with their lives, even their very souls. George, whoever he really was, had saved him from that horrible fate, and for that Merck Vanderoth owed him everything.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Dreek and Borin didn¡¯t actually sleep, but both of them entered a meditative state that restored them, centered them, prepared them for the day to come. Neither dreamt, though occasionally, Dreek would have visions. Tonight, however, he did not.


    Borin had never had a dream and didn¡¯t understand them, so he had read a book on dreaming. He didn¡¯t understand it any better than he had before reading the book, but he at least thought he could take a stab at interpreting them. He hoped someone would share a dream with him when they woke up, so he could practice. The very concept of dreaming was strange to him. He wished that one day he would experience one, so he could be like the others. So he could understand what they went through. So he could be closer to the team.


    Even Chari had fallen asleep while waiting, the day¡¯s events leaving her exhausted. She lay on the couch, still dressed, unconsciously waiting for the husband who would not return to her that night. An intruder looking at her would never have known the turmoil inside that grew as time passed. She didn¡¯t mark the time consciously, but on some level, she knew he was out there somewhere, and she wasn¡¯t with him. And while she trusted Maynor to a degree, she didn¡¯t completely trust anyone except Eric, Dahr and Kalutu. Where was he and why had he not returned to her? They had a marriage to consummate. At the thought, she stirred only slightly, the only external evidence of restlessness during the long night, as if her sleep was somehow deeper than it naturally would have been. Had she been aware enough to analyze the fact, it might have woken her, but she wasn¡¯t. And so she slept and though she didn¡¯t dream, she thought of her husband alone, or more likely with Dahr, facing some unknown danger that neither of them was prepared to face. She should have insisted on going with them, but she had not and would have to bear the consequences of her inaction.


    They all slept, fitfully or deeply, except for the one interested party who did not. He had been born an owl, but now he was a familiar to two princes who were getting further and further away as he stood there. As their familiar he could always tell where they were. But they were with Maynor, and that meant they were safe. Kalutu paced the room, trying to convince himself that everything was all right, determined to follow instructions. For an hour he waited, two, three. And then he began to worry. They were getting awfully far from the palace.


    Kalutu walked to the desk and removed a sheaf of papers from the drawer. He placed them down, reverentially. He didn¡¯t understand why, but these pages which he¡¯d penned over so many hours each night while his masters slept, meant more to him than they had any right to. Perhaps the writing process helped clear his mind, a thing he needed desperately some days. He had been an owl, then a were-owl and then had been unceremoniously pulled from his world only to drop out of the sky and land on top of a man who would change, not only his life, but the very shape of the way he thought¨C Prince Eric.


    He liked to think he would have followed his masters even without the compulsion of being a familiar, for he saw in them something he¡¯d never seen in his own world. Words like honor and fairness hadn¡¯t meant much to him in his old life. They had been words you uttered. Excuses men used to act. But in these young men, they were more. They were a reason to live.


    He stared at the first page. Somehow, he knew, this would be a story like no other. A tale repeated through the ages, assuming he lived to finish it.


    He hadn¡¯t titled it. He never thought it needed a title. They had started as words for him and him alone, but they had grown into something more. Every night while his masters slept, he added to it. A record of his experiences. A way to comprehend the world around him.


    Impulsively, he dipped his quill into the ink well on the desk and wrote something across the top of the first page. The perfect title for his musings.


    The Book of Lost Wisdom


    Then he picked up the pages, careful not to smudge the ink and placed them reverentially back in the drawer from which he had removed them.


    Something was wrong. He knew it in his soul¡­ if he had a soul. He wondered who he could ask about that.


    Slowly, Kalutu closed the drawer, stood and walked to the door. He had to tell someone that Prince Eric and Prince Dahr were gone. Because deep inside he knew the one truth he¡¯d been trying to avoid all this time. Neither of his masters would be returning this night. He wondered if he¡¯d ever see them again.


    The thought struck him like a mortal wound and, for the first time, fear overwhelmed him. The danger for which they had been waiting had finally arrived.


    This is the end of Volume One. The story continues in The Aptly Named Book of Lost Wisdom Volume Two.

 Chapter 26 - Out of Nowhere

    I don¡¯t know much about the Undead King, but what I do know is hard to like. Then again, most of what I know came from people who fought a war with him. I wonder how that¡¯s colored their view, and how much of what they say I can take at face value.


    The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu


    Nineteenth of Learning 1142