《Children of the Patriarchy》


 Chapter Zero: Long Live the Patriarch

    ¡°The Patriarch is dead! Long live the Patriarch!¡±


    Life had barely abandoned the Patriarch¡¯s mortal coil, sprawled across the ancient ceremonial table, when the unnerving chorus began. Around the table stood the senior priests of the Patriarch¡¯s church and all had pitch-black eyes that matched the fresh corpse on the altar. They stood in a semi-circle cloaked in black robes, with one of their number tied to a large stone slab opposite the Patriarch¡¯s cooling body. Wisps of incense and smoke filtered through the stone room with the ceremonial table that was carved on one giant piece of marble that had been intricately crafted well over a millennium ago.


    The Patriarch¡¯s corpse began its uncanny metamorphosis. Lifeless eyes that once devoured the light around them gradually lightened, the once jet-black hair now a shifting gradient of auburn and blond. The chosen successor, the high priest, bore similar features, though his eyes were a deep blue, and his hair a striking blend of brown and dark red. He struggled against his bonds but made no attempt to flee.


    His wife and four sons stood outside the ring of senior priests. The eldest son, Paul, was a young man who stood in robes like the other priests, but gray instead of black. The high priest¡¯s wife held the youngest son, Leo, who cooed peacefully, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation.


    ¡°Have you anything to decree before he returns?¡± one of the priests asked.


    ¡°No, other than ¡®long live the Patriarch!¡¯¡± the high priest returned confidently. ¡°Son,¡± he spoke to the oldest boy, ¡°use your influence wisely, and listen to the other senior priests,¡± he said, gesturing to the other robed figures. ¡°Honey, I love you, and¡ª¡±


    As the high priest spoke, the corpse¡¯s eyes ceased their insatiable consumption of light, returning to their original dark-green hue. Unforeseen agony surged through the high priest; his face contorted in a silent scream.


    ¡°I can feel it! I can feel it behind my eyes.¡± He squirmed and twisted in the bonds of the rope. ¡°It¡¯s like pressure. It hurts.¡± Pain rapidly escalated as the process of transfiguration began in earnest. He started to thrash involuntarily. ¡°It hurts a LOT!¡± He screamed. His blue eyes turned to gray, then black, then blacker than black. Orange-red torch light flickered and danced, casting intricate and ever-shifting streaks of gloom and shadow that drifted through the light layer of smoke and mist from burning ceremonial incense. None of the priests moved as the screams got louder. For most of them, this was something they had seen dozens or even hundreds of times.


    His family had not, so his pained screams made them flinch and cringe. Even the oldest son in the gray robe cowered at the sight of his father¡¯s pseudo-death. The high priest thrashed and strained against the ropes, but they did not budge. His screams became more insistent and then suddenly quieted.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Well then,¡± the voice coming from the former high priest¡¯s body had changed to a much deeper bass tone. ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°Scarcely two minutes, sir. They seem to be getting faster.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, I seem to get better at finding my way back each time. Well, what are you waiting for? Cut me loose!¡± The priests turned to the oldest son, who stood holding a long, curved ceremonial knife with gemstones set into the wide, silver hilt and cross guard.


    The knife was still coated with the last host¡¯s lifeblood. The new high priest¡¯s hands that held it trembled at the sight of his freshly murdered father, splattering small drops of blood to the floor around the child.


    ¡°Oh! Sorry. I¡¯m new at this.¡± He laughed soft and low, trying to conceal his fear. The Patriarch gave him a severe look. The new high priest shuffled across the floor deferentially through the ring of priests, stopping to kneel at the Patriarch¡¯s feet.


    The rope that tied the emperor to the stone slab was inlaid with three spiraling strands of gold braided into it. The metal gave no real resistance to the knife, so it cut through easily. What blood remained on the knife sucked away into the rope, leaving a thin crimson stain. Finally released and fully reincarnated, the ancient emperor slid off the slab.


    The Patriarch straightened and quickly examined his new body before giving a brief glance to his cooling corpse. ¡°Well then, congratulations on inheriting your father¡¯s title, um . . .¡± The Patriarch paused, uncertain of his name, and shot a quick look at one of the senior priests who leaned in to whisper. ¡°Congratulations then, Paul, I know this isn¡¯t exactly what you would have expected. But sometimes, exceptions must be made. I am going to have to ask a lot of you; our empire stands at a critical time, and I demand you give your best effort. I know the other priests will get you up to speed with the command structure of the military and intelligence ministries at large. Let¡¯s get you a new set of robes.¡±


    The Patriarch turned away immediately to resume basking in the warmth of the senior priests praising his revitalization. Paul and his family were led away quickly. Paul¡¯s siblings were surprisingly quiet as they were removed, but Paul could hear his mother trying to cover soft, shallow sobs. In the dark of the tower, his fear gripped him so hard that the ceremonial knife he carried shook from his vice grip.


    The rest of the evening passed in a blur. It was already late, and soon Paul was lying in his bed in his childhood home for the last time. He would have to live in the high priest¡¯s manor from now on. It had been his uncle¡¯s house, and Paul always liked him very much. He had always been nice to Paul in a way most adults weren¡¯t. But following his alleged suicide and subsequent severe punishment at the hands of the church he had just been in control of, Paul¡¯s father inherited the title, if only for a few days.


    Paul pondered this as he lay in bed having great trouble getting to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the black eyes of the father that didn¡¯t remember his name.

 Chapter One: A Show of Force

    Chapter One: A Show of Force


    ¡°No bet.¡±


    ¡°Aww come on, it¡¯s no fun without stakes.¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s my jerky and I don¡¯t want to share.¡±


    ¡°But this way you don¡¯t have to share, you get to lose it fair and square,¡± Reginald said, smirking.


    ¡°You don¡¯t make a very good argument, you know. You¡¯ll have to do better than that,¡± Chance replied, taking another handful of jerky from the bag.


    Ten-year-old Reginald or ¡°Reg¡± got to his knees and gathered the dice for another throw. He had shoulder-length brown hair that was mixed with blond in a two-toned pattern and lavender eyes. The color of his hair shifted and moved between the two colors ever so slightly as to be barely perceptible, but it gave the impression of constant motion even when stationary. ¡°By the end of this, I¡¯ll have some of that jerky!¡± He sighed. ¡°You got anything else to bet?¡±


    Chance shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s all I packed today and it¡¯s time to go inside.¡± His hair was short and just brown like his eyes.


    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Both boys got up and dusted off their school¡¯s gray robe uniforms. Reginald¡¯s robes were decorated with silver buttons, which designated his status as a close member of the Patriarch¡¯s family, though Chance¡¯s were not. ¡°Are you excited to have a class with the girls today?¡± Reg put the dice in his pocket.


    The two preteen boys were at the uncomfortable stage of adolescence when members of the opposite sex transitioned from icky to interesting. Chance was further along the curve than Reginald, so he would have been embarrassed to say anything to indicate his interest.


    ¡°Psh, nah, what¡¯s the big deal? It¡¯s just some girls,¡± Chance replied, lying poorly. ¡°I¡¯m more interested in the demonstration than anything else,¡± he said with a bit more sincerity. Together, they walked along the outside wall of the school.


    The Greater Imperial Academy of Rashil was built in the upper district, just outside of the main square that led to the palace district from the lower city and harbors. It was the primary educational and indoctrination center for not just the capital city of Rashil, but its eponymous greater empire. Nobility of the outlying territorial ¡°acquisitions¡± were appropriated and moved to ensure proper integration of their nations upon their later return to their homeland. As trained and obedient governors. The empire of Rashil and its Patriarch had enough practice with expansion, subjugation, and adoption that it had found the ideal combination of fear and obedience to drill into its colonial subjects.


    The Academy¡¯s original purpose during The Ascension for the Patriarch¡¯s dominion, was as a military training center. It had its own exterior walls and fortifications, and while it had been hundreds of years since its formal reappropriation, echoes of military architecture remained for those who knew what to look for. Tall battlement walls were constructed of thick azure-quartz bricks imported from far away. Selected specifically for their resistance to attacks, both mundane and magical, the mostly blue walls stood in stark contrast with the surrounding metropolis, caught in an eternal cycle of restoration and reconstruction of centuries gone by.


    At the center of the complex was a plateau that rose to be the highest point in the city outside of the palace district. Atop it stood a building that defied a particular definition, but was collectively called a theater. The colossal, domed building served as everything from lecture hall, to opera house, to temple. It was constructed of large stone pillars in an oval shape connected by carved hardwood walls with large windows to let light in. Though in the last century, the sparse lighting that could be conjured by a torch or two had been greatly augmented with the installation of gas lantern fixtures positioned regularly throughout the building.


    Large gilded doors made of dark wood and lined with golden trim to accent its opulence were merely mundane set dressing, however, to the stream of uniformed boys entering the building slowly. The theater stood directly between the boys and girls halves of the academy complex, so the two genders entered from opposite sides. The din of the crowd increased as Reginald and Chance drew near the theater, with female voices now entering the chatter.


    Once inside, the boys saw how the teacher arranged the students. They split each row in half, with boys on one side of the auditorium and girls on the other, with a single empty chair between the two halves. For modesty, of course.


    ¡°How good of you to join us on time, Mr. Thurblood,¡± the deep and severe voice of a teacher said from behind them.


    Turning, Reginald plastered on his best forced smile. ¡°Of course, sir, I¡¯d never be late on purpose!¡± he said in a barely sarcastic tone.


    The scolding teacher loomed over the boys. He narrowed his eyes and gave them a penetrating glare. He grunted, ¡°Take a seat and keep quiet. The demonstration should start soon.¡± Dismissed, the two boys rejoined the throng to find seats far from the girls¡¯ side of the auditorium. On some cue, the large curtains that rimmed the enormous glass windows extended, covering the light as the room dimmed. Gas lamps at the center of the stage and along the perimeter walls turned up, and it gradually became easier to see.


    The large wooden stage was elevated, but only barely, to allow access to the stage floor from what would, strictly speaking be under rather than backstage. The wooden floor pulled away, and another platform lifted into view, revealing a woman wearing the long, billowing white-and-blue-patterned robes of the limited female clergy and a man in the characteristic large wide-collared green and red woolen coat of a military officer dress uniform, with blond hair cut to shoulder length and tied back in a ponytail, along with various props for their presentation.


    As the stage reached its apex, the woman raised her hands in the air theatrically and spoke with a projected voice that reverberated with the acoustics designed for the building. ¡°Good day, boys and girls!  My name is Mistress Silvia. Some of the senior girls will know me from their temple visits. But for most of you who haven¡¯t met me yet, I am here with Lieutenant Bearah from our own Army Corps of Magic and Spellcraft,¡± she gestured to the man off to the side of the stage, who gave a subdued but polite wave, ¡°to show you some of what you all can do.¡± She smiled softly. ¡°With the proper training, of course.¡±


    She picked up a small tea kettle in one hand, and with the other she reached down into a box near her feet. While the tips of the knives were razor sharp, the sides of the blade were blunted. ¡°To start, we shall show how a properly prepared sorcerer can protect himself, even when at a terrible disadvantage.¡± She gestured to Lieutenant Bearah. ¡°If you would, please . . .¡±


    The lieutenant dutifully stepped to the side brandishing a wooden quarterstaff in one hand. He readied himself in a half crouch and raised his staff.


    Pulling one of the knives out of the stack, Mistress Silvia showed it to the crowd. ¡°Are you ready?¡± The lieutenant nodded. Deafening silence loomed as she took a knife and readied to throw. The crowd sat in anticipation long enough that Chance wondered if something was wrong. Without warning, the tea kettle spewed steam from the spout and the whistle was loud enough that the entire room could hear it clearly. Silvia threw her knife straight at the lieutenant. The quarterstaff came up to block, and with a hard THWACK sound, the blade stuck point-first into the staff. The room burst into applause.


    ¡°As you can see, the lieutenant was quite lucky, but anyone can be lucky a single time. Let¡¯s try¡ª¡± The lieutenant deftly spun the staff as one, two, three knives left her hand, followed by a loud THWACK THWACK THWACK as all three knives dug into the staff. Cheers began to echo.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Did you see that!¡± Chance turned to Reginald. ¡°He caught all three out of the air.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that was really something . . .¡± Reginald yawned and feigned boredom. ¡°We see this stuff all the time at the palace.¡±


    ¡°Still though, how much luck do you think he used?¡±


    ¡°Not that much, throw your dice right and you could probably earn that back in a day or two.¡±


    The lieutenant took off his blindfold and plucked the knives out of the staff. With a very subtle movement, Mistress Silva concentrated and forced as much magic as she could manage into the kettle, causing the water to boil more forcefully, letting out a sudden, much-louder whistle. She threw another knife hard and fast. The lieutenant started, spun, and caught the knife by the hilt as it flew past. Gasps erupted in the auditorium at the surprise flourish.


    Reginald sat forward in his seat. ¡°Ok, now that was cool.¡±


    The lieutenant cast a suppressed glare at his partner. He never wanted to do that trick, and she knew it. He would frequently lose at least a finger or two on the first attempts to catch the blade before they started blunting them. Even with that, he would still be cut regularly. While being able to choose your final outcome was great, it didn¡¯t stop it from hurting each time he missed.


    She gave him a smug smirk back and continued with her presentation. ¡°That, children, is the male aspect of wizardry. The ability to store and use luck and chance at will is a powerful tool if used at the right time. Many of you young men have already experienced this in your gambling classes. Yes?¡± A murmur of incoherent, but affirmative mumbles hummed from the male half of the crowd.


    The lieutenant coughed before he spoke up. ¡°It is very important to not deplete your luck reserves, however. If you run out and try to draw on an empty reserve, it will rebound and that can be VERY disorienting and more than a little nauseating.¡± He approached Mistress Silvia dropping most of the knives forcefully into the box. One bore a fresh drop of blood and reflected a suppressed sneer on the blade.


    Mistress Silvia added, ¡°It is also important to note for you boys in the room, that if you take on a new host, you will lose your luck reserves. They are tied to the combination of body and spirit. Pay attention to this when you possess your sons.¡± She clapped three times forcefully, and a large pedestal and a large target made of hay and burlap were pulled onto the stage by a hidden aide.


    ¡°I will confess, in the demonstration with the lieutenant, I cheated a bit. A very powerful sorceress can manipulate probability so much that the vibrations caused by the friction of improbable collisions can heat something to the point of boiling. I used this through the kettle to warn the lieutenant when I was about to throw.¡±


    The crowd murmured softly as this demonstration of power had gone beyond the ability of the average sorceresses they knew from temple or classes. Silvia basked in the awe of the assembled students for a moment. She liked to show off. ¡°Now, this is just my opinion, but I think that while the female aspect is harder to use, it is more powerful.¡± The girls in the crowd predictably cheered at this, but the male students had the good sense not to boo or jeer in response. Mistress Silvia continued, ¡°Though it is a bit more subtle. We play at the rules of probability and not luck. For example, if you would please, Lieutenant.¡± She turned and faced him, extended her arm forward with her palm facing the lieutenant, and gestured for him to throw.


    Bearah took a large orange ball and threw it at her. The air in front of her took on a shimmering smoothness, and when the ball met it, its path changed mid-flight. Instead of heading straight for her, it curved out and shot over the crowd, landing in the lap of some underclassman girl.


    The lieutenant continued his barrage. In sequence, without fail, they all veered off in various, seemingly random directions. ¡°This open-palm redirection technique is the foundation of all female sorcery. Unlike Lieutenant Bearah, however, I could do this all day and he still won¡¯t h-.¡±


    Silvia startled as one of the blades the lieutenant had kept hidden flew at her in place of the last orange ball. Without hesitation her second hand came up and with a slapping down gesture and worked her magic. A second shimmering space appeared that hammered down on the flying blade.


    The two fields worked together and pushed the knife¡¯s trajectory down-ish rather than randomly into the crowd. Silvia was a better sorceress than most. Unlike her male counterpart though, her reaction speed was no faster than a foreigner. She knew him well enough to anticipate the unscheduled flourish/assassination attempt.


    A loud thud followed by echoing silence as the blade landed point first into the wood of the stage at Silvia¡¯s feet. She unceremoniously grabbed the still wobbling knife from the wood and held it overhead. She said in a clear projected voice that echoed in the massive building. ¡°Thank you for proving my point, lieutenant. Hushed giggles and mumbles floated through the air. Silvia lightly touched the brim of an imaginary hat and titled her head. One corner of her mouth twitched trying to suppress a smirk at Berah who bowed low with arms to his side suppressing that same smirk. They knew they would get the chance to, -discipline- each other later.


    Silvia turned to face the crowd again. ¡°Let¡¯s up the stakes, shall we? It¡¯s no fun without stakes.¡± Reginald nudged Chance, who scoffed. Mistress Silvia reached down near the box holding most of the knives had been and lifted a delicate white vase and placed it on the pedestal between her and the burlap target.


    The lieutenant drew two pistols from his belt and stood at the far side of the stage from the target. ¡°Now please, do not try this at home. Only very highly skilled sorceresses should even attempt such a trick.¡± She turned back to the lieutenant and raised one arm in front of her and one arm behind her. The air took on that same faint shimmer.


    He raised the guns straight at her and counted out ¡°Three, two, one!¡± BANG! Faster than the eye could see, the bullets traveled through the air, hit the shimmer, and bent in the air in front of Silvia. The rounds moved in the air around her, and then back together, moving on their original path behind her. The vase exploded as the bullets impacted it and landed on the target.


    It took a silent moment before the awestruck applause began. Mistress Silvia and Lieutenant Bearah both faced the crowd and took a long bow. ¡°Thank you! Thank you! This works by generating two fields: One making the path of the bullet improbable, and the other reversing this effect on the other side. The bullet has a sort of ¡®memory¡¯ for what it was doing, so by reversing the forces applied, you can redirect objects around you.¡±


    After the demonstration the lights came back up and the classes were dismissed for lunch. The boys and girls filed out through separate doors but exited into the shared courtyard between the two schools. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the theater and into the outside afternoon air, Chance had his precious bag of jerky out and was snacking on a small piece.


    ¡°Boy that was really something, eh Reg?¡± said one of Reginald¡¯s other friends as he ran by, slapping him lightly on the arm.


    ¡°It sure was,¡± a soft voice said behind them. Reginald and Chance turned to see a girl standing behind them. She had long auburn-blond two-toned hair and lavender eyes like Reginald. Like Reginald, her hair also slowly shifted between the two colors. Long hair was in a braid laying over one shoulder, with the odd errant strand of fringe bangs having freed themselves from their prison of hair ties and bobby pins. Early afternoon sun lit her from behind, causing the hair to cast an ever-shifting shadow and lining her whole body in an aura of light. She unconsciously tried to blow one of the blinding bangs several times before giving up and adjusting her books into one arm to pull the hair behind her ear before flashing a smile. The female school uniforms were designed to be far less elaborate or intricate as the male uniforms, with their detailed embroidery and gilded seams. Her uniform was a simple navy-blue skirt and plain gray blouse. Conspicuously deviant from the uniform code, however, was a pin of a violet-colored flower attached near the waist of the skirt.


    ¡°Oh uh . . . H-Hi,¡± Chance stammered out, awash with unfamiliar feelings.


    She smiled wide. ¡°You must be Chance. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you.¡±


    ¡°Who? Me?¡± He turned and looked side to side like that would somehow answer his question. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°This is my twin sister, you idiot. Try not to drool on yourself,¡± Reginald interjected, waving a hand in front of Chance¡¯s face. Chance shut his involuntarily slack-jawed mouth.


    She smiled warmly again. ¡°Indeed, Regina Thurblood.¡± She bent one knee in front of the other and spread her dark-blue skirt in a curtsy. ¡°Pleased to make your acquaintance.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so formal all the time.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should be more formal. Have you ever thought of that?¡± She snapped back and stuck her tongue out at Reginald. Her tone suddenly became much more casual and conversational. ¡°You guys headed to lunch?¡±


    ¡°I uh . . . I brought jerky.¡± A long pause. ¡°You want some?¡±


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll try a piece.¡± She stuck her hand in the bag and pulled out a long, thin strip.


    ¡°YOINK!¡± Reginald snatched the piece out of her hand and immediately took a big bite. ¡°Told you I¡¯d get some!¡± he yelled as he ran off, satisfied with his pilfering.


    ¡°WHAT A JERK!¡± Regina said, stomping her foot.


    ¡°More like a jerky . . .¡± Chance replied with a groaner of a joke.


    Regina¡¯s face at first straightened, scrunched up trying not to laugh, and managed to leak only a few very unladylike snorts. ¡°More like a jerky! Nice. I¡¯ll have to tell him that later!¡±


    ¡°Want another piece?¡± Chance asked, pulling another large strip from the bag.


    Regina smiled wide and replied, ¡°Yes, thank you. It sounds delightful.¡±


    ¡°I figure it mostly smells delightful; it doesn¡¯t actually make a sound on its own.¡± Regina rolled her eyes, groaned loudly again, and gave Chance a playful punch on the arm. Chance smiled back at her and shook the bag in her direction. They shared the rest of the bag together.

 Chapter Two: The Best View in the City

    Chapter Two: The Best View in the City


    Chance cursed in a whisper as he tried to squeeze through the gap in the hedges. Thorns and brambles tore at his skin and clothes as he sidled through the bushes. His dark-blue cloak caught several times and had to be gently pulled free so it didn¡¯t tear.


    This had been much easier when he was young and small. Now practically a man, Chance had grown quite tall and handsome, with a firm jaw and muscular physique from the long hours of combat training with his father.


    Arriving in the backyard, Chance shook himself and swept off the leaves and brambles that still clung to him. The house was dark, but the night outside was well lit with a full moon. He gathered a handful of small stones from the yard and began tossing them softly at an upper window of the house.


    Four stones tapped on the glass before a light came on in the room. A moment later, Regina opened the window and poked her head out. Chance waved and whisper-shouted up, ¡°Hey! Sneak out?¡±


    Regina nodded her head. ¡°Sure! Let me go get Reg.¡± And she disappeared back into the house.


    Chance¡¯s mouth went stiff-lipped. He hadn¡¯t planned on inviting Reginald this time. But the two of them went everywhere together, so it only made sense. Light shifted and moved in the house as the two came downstairs. Reginald and Regina slinked through the squeaky back entrance to the estate.


    ¡°So, where are we going tonight? A seedy bar? The theater? Maybe something down by the river?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Chance replied. ¡°I was thinking we should go down to the lower city.¡± Reginald and Regina shared a worried look. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. Crossing the river is a bad idea. But the lower city isn¡¯t really that bad. Plus¡ª¡± Chance pulled something from inside his cloak.


    With a flick of his wrist, the foot and a half (46 centimeters) long black cylinder expanded to about six feet (~2 meters) into a long staff and locked into place. Chance twirled it in a flourish. ¡°Even if we run into trouble, we¡¯re prepared.¡±


    ¡°Coooool,¡± Regina said, gesturing to hold it. Chance handed it over and she twirled it around in her hands deftly. ¡°Wow, this is super light too.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about this,¡± Reginald replied, tapping his right foot anxiously. ¡°Why would we go to one of the most dangerous parts of the city at night by ourselves? Seems like asking for trouble.¡±


    ¡°Look.¡± Chance rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°If you want to stay, feel free. But tonight is a full moon and I¡¯ve never seen it over the river. It¡¯s supposed to be the most beautiful view in the city.¡±


    Reginald pursed his lips. ¡°All this for a view? Count me out.¡±


    Chance tried not to look pleased. ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Regina chided. ¡°If all three of us go it¡¯ll be safer than just two. Plus, we can try out some of the food in the lower city! I¡¯ll bet they have all sorts of food we don¡¯t get up here.¡±


    Reginald rolled his eyes and let out a barely suppressed groan. ¡°Fine, I guess. Only so you don¡¯t get into too much trouble.¡±


    ¡°Great! Can we go out the gate though? I think I tore my cloak on the way in.¡±


    They gently opened and closed the gate to not make too much noise. Along the street gas lanterns flames danced intermittently, but the full moon reflected the silver-blue light of the sun, allowing them to see easily.


    The palace complex itself was built into a bend in the river, surrounding it on two sides by the river and the other two by an artificial moat with a single bridge to cross. Since they were underaged, the guards wouldn¡¯t let them pass at night, so they took an alternate route.


    Careful and slow, they crept into the palace inside the keep. They had no reason to fear, really. Two of them had every right to be there. Although, they were unattended youths in the middle of the night. A guard patrolling the torch-lit hallway they walked through stopped them.


    ¡°Woah there, Reg, what are you doing out this time of night?¡± The guard asked from behind them, adjusting his steel cap and shifting in his gambeson. ¡°Does your mother know you are out?¡±


    The three stopped in their tracks. Reginald turned around slowly and put on his best ingratiating smile. ¡°Of course, guard uh . . . uh  . . . what was your name again?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Luke, my lord . . .¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course! Luke! How could I forget? Must be all those studies clogging up my brain.¡± Reginald smirked. ¡°We were just on our way to the library to do some studying.¡±


    ¡°Together?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°In the middle of the night?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°And dressed like thieves.¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Reg replied, straight-faced. The guard¡¯s face changed to an amused grin.


    Chance sighed and pulled out a small coin pouch. He counted out three silver coins into his hand and walked up to Luke. ¡°Here, is this more convincing?¡±


    Luke eyed the coins, then gave a penetrating look to all three teens. ¡°Sure. Good enough for me.¡± He took the coins and began to walk off.


    ¡°And you¡¯ll say you never saw us!?¡± Reginald called after him.


    ¡°Saw who?¡± The guard replied without breaking his stride.


    The three trespassing teens regrouped. ¡°You know . . . I really hope he¡¯s not that easy to bribe if you are an enemy,¡± Regina said, concerned.


    They soon found themselves in the cellar and closed the door so they could not be followed. Underground darkness loomed ahead so Chance picked a torch off the wall in the hallway to light their way. Waving the torch in front of them, they found the large wooden beer cask that concealed the entrance to the escape tunnel. All good castles need an escape tunnel.


    Chance and Reginald grunted and strained to move the giant wooden cask. But they eventually scooched it slightly so that they could slide in behind the cask and into the tunnel. The tunnel led down and switched back and forth several times until they emerged into a natural cave.


    The entrance was heavily obscured by trees and one by one they sifted through the foliage and appeared near the riverbank. They brushed the leaves and twigs out of their cloaks and approached the large stone bridge a short way away.


    Reginald cast a worried look back toward the palace and the large spirally buildings of the upper city where Chance lived above them. ¡°Are you sure about this? There is plenty of food and fun on this side of the river you know . . .¡± Chance rolled his eyes and moved to the walkway of the water lock that served as the barrier between the river and the moat separating the upper city from the palace district. Reginald let out a long sigh. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± and skipped slightly in order to catch up. The walkway was very narrow, but Chance and Regina had no problem holding their balance as they crossed. Reginald, however, nearly fell multiple times, only to be caught by the railing, or more often by Regina catching the back of his cloak.


    ¡°I always hate this part . . .¡± Reginald said with a grimace.


    ¡°Oh, we know, you tell us every time,¡± Regina snarked back as they stepped onto the upper city side of the moat.


    ¡°Can we please just go to something in the upper city? The lower city is dirty, smelly, and full of criminals.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? Is it full of stereotypes too?¡± Regina chided.


    ¡°You know I am right. I know the stories are intentionally exaggerated. But exaggerated does not mean wholly falsified,¡± Reginald answered.


    ¡°You worry too much Reg. It¡¯ll be fun!¡± Chance added.


    ¡°You worry too little, both of you.¡±


    Chance and Regina both scoffed at this but didn¡¯t pursue it further. They reached the bridge that connected the road in the upper district to the lower district and beyond. The bridge was intricately tiled with differently sized stones that came together in an oddly mismatched pattern from heavy use and centuries of patchwork repairs. Even this late there was still reliable traffic.It served as the only significant crossing to the two major districts that made up the city from the shore.


    The bridge wasn¡¯t very long. It rose little more than a few feet and could barely accommodate a canoe after heavy rain, much less a barge. It crossed over a river that could at best be called a slow stream, as blocked by trash and construction debris as it was on this side of the island the palace and upper city was built on. The bridge came down into a cobblestone square. It was lit by gas lanterns like the castle was, but the side streets were not. Buildings on this side of the river were much shorter, with only a few rising above one story tall in contrast to the large arching doorways and intricate stonework of the palace.


    There was a sharply defined line between the area of the bridge maintained by the commerce guilds and nobility, compared to the disheveled and ill-maintained roads and alleys that spread out around it. The group stepped off the privileged promenade of properly prepared parkways and Reginald¡¯s shoe immediately stuck in a pool of what he desperately hoped was only mud. The trio walked into the lower city and began to look around. Shaking off the unidentified brown sludge coating his boots, Reginald said, ¡°This doesn¡¯t look so bad. To hear the headmasters tell it, this place is a slum. But this is just a little different . . .¡± He sneered a bit, ¡°Save for the stagnant water smell and the horse scat in the street.¡± A nearby horse tied in front of a restaurant whinnied as if in protest.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Where is this view you promised us?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°Down by the river, but the moon is still low, let¡¯s explore a bit.¡±


    They wandered along the darkened streets past houses and closed shops. ¡°What is that smell?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°I told you, horse scat.¡±


    ¡°No, not that.¡± She took a big sniff. ¡°Smell that? Fishy, with just a hint of spicy?¡±


    Chance sniffed too. ¡°Yeah, I smell that, it smells good! What is it do you think?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go find out!¡± Regina exclaimed excitedly and ran off around a corner. Chance chased after her with Reginald following behind.


    ¡°I still only smell horse poo . . .¡± Reginald complained again.


    A couple of wrong turns later, they found the source of the seductive smell. A short one-story building that glowed from the light inside and a small hum of people talking could be heard from outside. Regina and Reginald put up their cloak hoods to conceal their unmistakable two-toned hair.


    The errant teens opened the door. A wave of warm kitchen wind flowed over and around them into the street. The smell caused the mouths of the trio, the idle man on the other side of the street, and curiously, the unconscious drunkard passed out in the alley around the corner to instinctively salivate. The smell was earthy and rich, with just a hint of fish in it. The patrons were eating some variation of the same dish. It was rice with a few strips of fish laid on top with a thick brown sauce. ¡°Excuse me, sir,¡± Regina asked the man sitting alone near the door. ¡°What type of food is that?¡±


    The man looked up with a bit of fish hanging from his mouth that he slurped up quickly. ¡°Mmm. Ish cralled . . .¡± He swallowed. ¡°It¡¯s called sabine, it¡¯s a Jeranese dish. You¡¯ve never had it?¡±


    Regina shook her head. ¡°Never even heard of it. Is it good?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m eating it, so it can¡¯t be that bad, right?¡± The man smiled. ¡°Say, beautiful, how bout I buy you some and we have a chat?¡±


    Regina blushed slightly and Chance bristled. ¡°Thanks, but I think we¡¯ll get our own . . .¡± The man simply shrugged and went back to his food. The restaurant wasn¡¯t overly crowded, so the three walked up to the counter. A Jeranese man behind the counter turned to them and said something in a language they didn¡¯t understand. Presumably Jeranese.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Reginald asked.


    ¡°Order?¡± the Jeranese man asked with a thick accent. Foreigners were not terribly uncommon in Rashil. Few rose as high as needed to cross paths with the nobility though. The Patriarchy¡¯s occupation of Jeranin, among many other occupations, caused a large amount of immigration to the empire. Sometimes by choice. Other times, not so much. ¡°Well, we haven¡¯t been here before. What do you recommend?¡±


    ¡°This is a sabine shop.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we saw, but I wondered if you had anything . . . else?¡±


    ¡°This is a sabine shop,¡± he repeated.


    ¡°Right, well, we¡¯ll have three.¡±


    ¡°Red or brown sauce?¡±


    ¡°Um, brown I guess?¡± Reginald took out his coin pouch and pulled out the requested payment for the food.


    The cook gestured with his head to a table and in a clipped tone. ¡°Sit.¡±


    The three turned and found a table near the corner. Settled and waiting Reginald asked, ¡°Did he seem rude to you? We are paying customers after all.¡±


    Chance nodded, ¡°Or a racist.¡±


    Regina hissed through her teeth in a suppressed shush. ¡°Or¡­ it¡¯s late and he¡¯s probably just tired. Just because you are used to the deferential treatment of the servants to nobility doesn¡¯t mean everyone exists to serve your ends.¡±


    ¡°Just because he doesn¡¯t know we are nobility doesn¡¯t mean he is entitled to be rude.¡± Reginald hissed back quieter.


    ¡°Just because you are nobility doesn¡¯t mean you are entitled to dictate what other people must do.¡± Regina answered.


    Trying to change d the subject, Chance watched the crowd and observed small games of chance happening at most tables. ¡°I wonder if any of them are magically inclined.¡± Chance wondered aloud, ¡°Doubtful, given the quality of service or color of the clientele.¡±


    Regina raised and eyebrow at the comment, ¡°Now who is the racist?¡±


    Chance gave her a level stare. ¡°That isn¡¯t racism. That is statistics. Statistics cannot be racist.¡±


    Regina knew better but didn¡¯t care to argue the point further. The three continued to chat and waited for a few minutes before the food came out. A woman who looked to be a local brought them three steaming bowls from the back and put them on the table.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Regina said with a smile and immediately took a large bite. Chance followed suit. Reginald sniffed it a bit and then took a nibble. A harmonizing hum came from the group.


    ¡°This is pretty good. The sauce is . . . creamy and salty? Goes well with the fish,¡± Chance remarked.


    ¡°Agreed! A bit slimy, but quite satisfying,¡± Regina added.


    Reginald¡¯s wrinkled his nose in displeasure. ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± Reginald added with a sharp frown.


    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t. You don¡¯t like anything with flavor,¡± Regina replied, sticking her tongue out. They ate the rest of their food in silence. Reginald only had a few more bites before giving up. After finishing, they stacked their bowls and meandered out the way they came.


    ¡°Well, that was an . . . interesting digestion digression. Can we go home now?¡± Reginald complained again.


    ¡°Not yet, we need to go back down by the river. Come on,¡± Chance answered, and they went off down the twisting streets. A short time later, they heard shouting from around a corner. Chance gestured for them to stop and poked his head around the corner.


    The alley next to them had three adult men standing around a teenage girl about their age. ¡°You know this will go easier for you if you just give it up,¡± said one of the men.


    ¡°Yeah, little girl, you don¡¯t want us to have to take it from you,¡± said one of the comically villainous thugs.


    The girl clutched a small purse to her chest. ¡°Please . . .¡± she pleaded. ¡°It¡¯s all I have for this week. My brother went hungry yesterday already.¡±


    ¡°See the problem is . . .¡± the lead thug menaced, ¡°we need to eat too. We eat way more than some scrawny kid.¡± He sneered in contempt, ¡°Or some scrap of a girl for that matter.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Chance called out without thinking, ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± He stepped out from around the corner to confront the men with the absurd bravado belonging only to the very young or the very stupid. The men turned, and an amused look came over the leader.


    ¡°Tis ain¡¯t none of your business kid. Walk away.¡±


    ¡°Afraid I can¡¯t do that,¡± Chance replied, producing his collapsible staff from his cloak and concealing it behind his arm. Regina stepped out from around the corner, and Reginald didn¡¯t move but peered around from the corner, giving great emotional support.


    ¡°I told you there would be criminals!¡± Reginald said in a whisper.


    The thugs pounded their fists into their hands. ¡°Looks like someone needs a lesson in proper etiquette.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, teach him a lesson, boss!¡± one man jeered with a high and nasally voice while grabbing the girl by the shoulder to manhandle her some more.


    ¡°Mimsy, hush. Let me take care of this.¡± The leader stepped up as if to swing his fist at Chance. Lightning-fast, the staff was out and flying straight at the thug¡¯s face. While surprised, the leader of the thugs had been in enough brawls to expect as much. He deftly dodged to the left, grabbed the staff, and pulled it, tipping Chance off-balance. As Chance tumbled, he tingled with a profound sense of¡ª


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    ¡°Mimsy, hush. Let me take care of this.¡± The leader stepped up as if to swing his fist at Chance. Lightning-fast, the staff was out and flying straight to the left of the thug¡¯s face. He tried to dodge, but ended up leaning straight into the blow and was sent reeling to the floor, clutching his bloodied face.


    The lead thug released a torrent of blood-muffled curses from the ground. ¡°He moves fast! Get him!¡± The second thug pulled a knife from his belt and charged. The lead thug rolled on the floor and backed further away.


    Regina cried out in warning as the knife swung in at Chance. He swung the staff to block, but the thug was too quick and got inside his guard. The knife bit into his side, and blood gushed from the wound. Chance screamed in pain.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    Regina cried out in warning as the knife swung in at Chance. He swung the staff close to block the blow and warded off the first swing with the staff, but the thugs¡¯ backswing cut into Chance¡¯s arms. He cursed.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    Regina cried out in warning as the knife swung in at Chance. He hopped back out of the range of the swing and then thrust his staff forward, striking the knife-wielding thug. He struck true and hit the thug square in the windpipe. The knife hit the floor with a ringing clang, and the man wheezed and clutched his throat, going to the ground.


    ¡°Enough!¡± The thug leader yelled, standing up and pulling a flintlock pistol from his belt. The alley froze as he leveled it at Chance. As he fired, the air between them took on a faint shimmering smoothness to it. The bullet traveled through space and veered hard off-course, landing inside the wall of a nearby house.


    The lead thug stood there gobsmacked, holding the smoking gun. Regina had her hand held forward, palm open, in intense concentration maintaining the field before dropping her arm and letting it dissipate. As she rushed forward to raise her magical shield, the hood of her cloak fell down, revealing her long braided two-toned auburn-blond hair.


    Even in the darkness they could see the distinct shifting pattern. ¡°Oh, f¡ª¡± the thug cursed. ¡°They¡¯re highborn! Cheese it!¡± The leader turned to flee and shoved the girl they failed to mug to the ground as he ran. The thug that had been hit in the throat still rolled on the ground, gasping for air, and the one called Mimsy ran off in a different direction.


    ¡°After the leader! We can still catch them!¡± Chance shouted as he broke into a run after him. Regina looked to Reginald, then to the girl, then to Chance running away.


    ¡°Check on the girl!¡± She yelled back to Reginald who had now entered the walkway between buildings as well. She took off at a run after Chance and hoped that Reginald would listen. She thought she heard him protest as she ran off, but she paid no mind.


    Following Chance was difficult, he had a lead on Regina and the streets were narrow with frequent junctions. A short distance away, she came upon Chance standing in the middle of an intersection, breathing heavily.


    ¡°Did you lose him?¡± she asked, also out of breath.


    He nodded. ¡°Yes¡ª¡± he said, panting. ¡°Yeah¡ªI think so.¡± He stomped his feet in frustration. ¡°I thought I had him! He must have gone left at that last crossing.¡±


    ¡°Did you have to use any luck back there?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I got stabbed.¡± She gasped in shock and covered her mouth. ¡°I know right? Hurt like crazy.¡± He smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me though, I¡¯m just glad you were there to save me from getting shot.¡±


    Regina quickly calmed after mentally processing that her friend was fine, despite having been stabbed. The male magical aspect to use stored luck to undo even the most serious of blows so long as the death was not instantaneous was instinct for Chance. But easy to forget if you are a woman. Even a noble one. Observers do not ever see the events prior to the spell and only see the final result. At this reminder, Regina was quite glad that it was not her up front. ¡°If I don¡¯t pull you out of the fire when you do something stupid like charge three armed men by yourself, who will?¡± She smiled back. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s head back. Reginald is probably worried sick.¡±


    They walked together in silence, trying to find their way back. They came to a dead end that faced the river. Silver light of the moon was partially obscured by the spires of the palace and reflected in the river.


    ¡°Wow, it¡¯s beautiful,¡± Regina remarked.


    ¡°Yes, it sure is.¡± He turned to face her. ¡°Not even the most beautiful thing here though.¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the most beautiful view in the city, but it certainly is up there.¡± She looked at him and saw the way he looked at her. ¡°Oh¡ªOh you meant . . .¡± She flushed red, gripped her braid gently, and scrunched up her shoulders as if trying to hide. The dark hid her expression, but her body language did not, and it gave Chance a big, goofy smile.


    ¡°You¡¯re very cute when you¡¯re flustered,¡± Chance said, which of course made it even harder to hide her embarrassed blushing. He drew close to her, and she looked up at him with large violet eyes. Her lips parted slightly. He took a chance. He pressed his lips to hers in a firm, but gentle kiss. She pulled back and touched her lips lightly. Panic welled in him for a second. Then for one glorious, brief, eternal second. She kissed back.


    ¡°What the hell are you two doing?!?¡± Reginald called from behind them.


    Chance startled and the warm and fuzzy feeling was replaced with¡ª


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    He drew close to her, and she looked up at him with large violet eyes. Her lips parted slightly. He chickened out. He pulled away and looked at the river. Regina looked at him, disappointed, but let him slide away from her.


    ¡°What the hell are you two doing?!?¡± Reginald called from behind them.


    ¡°I, uh¡ªnothing?¡± Chance replied. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Looking for you two! Are you crazy!? Starting a fight with three armed men and then chasing after one of them with a GUN?¡±


    ¡°Hey, we got it handled, didn¡¯t we?¡± Regina replied.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the pertinent detail. You almost got shot! Or worse, got Regina shot. What even was your plan? Were you going to arrest him and take him to the magistrate or just beat him senseless?¡±


    Chance shrugged. ¡°I hadn¡¯t really gotten that far. Though beating senseless does seem like a good start for the likes of them.¡±


    Reginald pursed his lips at this, disliking his friend¡¯s perceived bloodlust, but tried to put it out of his mind. Taking a deep breath, he said, ¡°Fine, whatever. I am glad you had your little adventure. But now, please, can we go home? I¡¯ve had enough excitement for at least a week and a half.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go. I think we¡¯re done here,¡± Chance said with just a twinge of regret in his voice.

 Chapter Three: As You Know

    Chapter Three: As You Know


    As Regina, Reginald, and Chance got older, they all became close friends. While the female school was detached from the male school, they had time after and between classes to socialize and talk. Initially, Regina and Chance¡¯s rapport bothered Reginald a bit. He was very protective of his sister and wanted only the best for her.


    When they became teenagers and upperclassmen, they began to have coed classes. Regina and Chance found that they had distinctly different strengths and they began to tutor each other on their own strong subjects. Reginald was pleased that they were learning but became increasingly concerned. Not because he didn¡¯t think Chance was appropriate for her. He knew Chance very well; he was his best friend after all. But he knew even then that the odds of a young crush working out in the long term were very slim. He hated the idea of losing either of them or their companionship because of a falling out.


    Sometimes Reginald would watch them from a distance and see how close they were. Chance always found a way to make Regina laugh and smile. Even on bad days. In some ways, Chance was better for her than even he was. He was sometimes jealous, but always seemed to be included in their adventures.


    While many of their upper-level courses were coed, they still had their individual gendered classes such as gambling for the boys and various arts such as music and drawing for the girls. One day in the class The Theory of Gambling, Reginald looked over to Chance who was writing furiously in his notebook as the teacher spoke. Reginald leaned over to Chance and whispered under his breath, ¡°I don¡¯t know how you find this so interesting. It¡¯s incredibly boring. We already know how to play dice, that¡¯s second- and third-year lessons. Shouldn¡¯t we be moving on to the harder stuff?¡±


    Chance continued to write and keep his attention forward but managed to respond. ¡°This is harder, it addresses the actual effect of increased probability and randomness on our accumulation of luck. This is far more than just ¡®how to play dice.¡¯¡±


    The teacher turned from the board he was gesturing to. ¡°Mr. Alloway, Mr. Thurblood. Is there something more interesting and important than our lesson today?¡± he said with the resigned annoyance unique to teachers who had disruptive students haunt their nightmares. He longed for the time when he was a student, and you could just hit the noisy child and be done with it. He turned out just fine after all.


    Chance and Reginald started at the sudden attention as the class turned to them. Reginald¡¯s mouth went dry, but Chance looked back at the teacher. ¡°No sir, I was just explaining what you were saying to Reginald. Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to disturb the class.¡±


    The teacher crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He knew Chance and Reginald were good friends and was highly skeptical. ¡°Oh? And what is it that we are talking about, Mr. Alloway?¡±


    Chance looked down at his notes. ¡°Well, you were describing how the more dice you roll in a single throw, the less likely you are to have a specific desired result. It¡¯s a problem core to the rate that we can accumulate luck. The degree to which you generate luck is proportional to your ¡®unlucky¡¯ rolls in these distributions.¡±


    The teacher put one hand on his chin and Chance was unsure if the teacher wanted him to expand. ¡°I was explaining that this is limited by the law of large numbers. The more rolls you make, the more likely you are to end up with an even distribution.¡±


    Chance looked around the class and watched everyone looking at him intently. He could see Reginald out of his peripheral vision, both wanting him to continue, but praying the teacher wouldn¡¯t call on him to explain further. ¡°Though . . . this only decreases the rate at which the luck is generated, not the total amount directly. The ultimately limiting factor here is time. It is the one commodity that, no matter how much we want to, we can¡¯t get more of.¡±


    The class was silent for a moment before the teacher¡¯s child abuse scowl into a soft smile and said, ¡°Someone¡¯s been reading ahead I take it.¡±


    Chance shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just an application of what you said. In my opinion, though, the addition of additional uncontrolled variables such as more dice or dice with more sides is a sub-optimal method of maximizing the luck generation process.¡±


    The teacher pondered for a moment. ¡°What would you suggest as an alternative?¡±


    Chance stammered a bit. He had reached the limit of what he already could prove with his statistical model, but he answered as best as he could. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have the theoretical equations done on this, but it seems to me that the most efficient process is to build a game with a significant degree of randomness in the number of available variables but increase the degree to which the players can directly control their performance. Rather than a dice game, something like a card game with a good deal of strategic depth and a variety of available cards? The order of the deck is random, but how they are used are not.¡±


    The teacher rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°I¡¯d be interested to see the math on that. That¡¯s not in the scope of our class today, so I will continue. But I encourage you to think on this further; thank you for your interesting theory, Mr. Alloway.¡±


    The teacher resumed his lesson, and while the rest of the students turned back around to face him, Reginald just sat there staring at him. ¡°What was that? You never told me about this idea.¡±


    Chance looked back and shrugged. He turned his notebook around to show Reginald various notes and drawings about the ideas he had for the potential mechanics and rules for the game. ¡°It¡¯s just math and statistics after all.¡±


    #


    The class dismissed and Chance and Reginald went outside to eat their lunch on the grounds in the center of the complex of buildings forming the school. They sat their regular table and waited for Regina to arrive. She approached a few minutes later, having just been dismissed from her aesthetic composition class.


    She unceremoniously sat down next to Reginald and pulled off a chunk of the bread he had on the table. Still chewing her first bite she said, ¡°Boy, am I glad to be out of that. I enjoy the artwork. But the academics of the golden ratio, color theory, and historic art styles bore me to tears.¡±


    Reginald chewed the large piece of fruit he was eating and said, ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m the same way with our gambling classes. I don¡¯t mind the games themselves, but all the theory and the equations make my brain hurt.¡± He took another bite and swallowed before gesturing to Chance. ¡°Unlike this brainiac over here. He¡¯s got a head for numbers I just can¡¯t comprehend.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Regina looked up from her meal and smiled at Chance. ¡°See, I told you he was smart.¡±


    Chance flushed slightly at the compliment. ¡°Thanks.¡± He continued to eat the sandwich he brought for lunch.


    Between bites, Regina asked, ¡°So, if I may ask, what makes our golden boy here a brainiac?¡±


    Reginald had finished his food by this point, so he gestured to Chance¡¯s backpack where he kept his lunch, books, and notebook. ¡°He gave a seminar in class about how to increase the rate of luck generation using an entirely new style of game. Some kind of card game.¡±


    ¡°What? Like solitaire?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s way more complicated than solitaire. It¡¯s designed to be played with two people, but if you changed the rules around you probably could do four or more,¡± Chance answered.


    ¡°Oh really? A multiplayer card game? Don¡¯t leave me in suspense. How does it work?¡± Regina asked.


    Chance rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not really done. It¡¯s all theoretical math anyway. I¡¯m not sure it would even work.¡±


    ¡°Show her the notebook you showed me. It will at least give her an idea of how it works,¡± Reginald said.


    Chance gave Reginald a severe look, but Regina just looked at him expectantly. Chance sighed and retrieved the notebook he had been working on and handed it to Regina. She began to read as Chance described the various rules he had come up with so far.


    Regina moved her hands down the page as Chance described it, flipping to the next page when they reached the bottom. When there was a lull in the conversation, Regina asked, ¡°I see all these spells and creatures, but the creatures so far are all fictional. Elephants, alligators, and something called a gorilla? Aren¡¯t these a bit silly?¡±


    Chance shrugged. ¡°It is supposed to be a fantasy-themed game after all. I plan on adding more. Those are just what I¡¯ve made so far.¡± He pulled the notebook back and put it away.


    ¡°You know . . .¡± Regina said. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to do a series of drawings for my final art project this year. If you¡¯d like, I can do some of them as concept art for your cards.¡±


    Chance beamed at this. ¡°I love that suggestion! It¡¯d give me good motivation to keep working on it.¡±


    Reginald interjected, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to break up this little meeting of the minds, but it looks like the lunch period is over. We have our natural sciences class next and it¡¯s our turn to present our group project.¡±


    Chance swallowed hard and gave silent thanks that he wasn¡¯t the one of them who had to present their findings. He merely had to do all the OTHER work. Together, they stood up and gathered their things. As they walked toward their classroom Regina asked, ¡°So, what¡¯s the game called?¡±


    Chance turned his head but kept walking. ¡°What¡¯s it called? I hadn¡¯t really thought of it yet. The whole purpose is to accumulate luck faster, let¡¯s tentatively call it Gathering the Magic?¡±


    #


    Regina and Chance settled in their seats and waited for Reginald¡¯s presentation. The class was held in a large auditorium with a raised dais to speak from. The room was large and dimly lit, only letting a large beam of light through a window illuminating the platform at the far end.


    Regina and Chance sat together in the darkened room just far enough apart to not invite gossip about them. But low near the seat, Chance reached over and touched Regina¡¯s hand lightly. She looked down at his hand and turned hers over to hold it. Chance didn¡¯t turn away from watching the platform, but an unconscious smile came to his face.


    A moment later, Reginald walked up the steps and place his notes on a podium. Clearing his throat, he spoke loud but clearly, so he could be heard throughout the auditorium.


    ¡°Good afternoon! As you may know, my name is Reginald Thurblood. I am here to talk to you today about the nature of our Patriarch¡¯s gift of immortality.¡± The crowd murmured softly; this was nothing new to them. ¡°The power given to us, blessed by the empire, is tied directly to lineage descending from the Patriarch himself. Boys born to descendants of the Patriarch¡¯s family are gifted with the ability to store and use luck at will for various purposes, along with the ability to transfer their mind and soul into the body of their eldest male child upon their death. As this transfer persists through time, the man¡¯s eye color slowly transitions from their natural color to gray, and then eventually to black, much like the Patriarch¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Additionally, as I am sure you know, girls born of these families are also gifted with the ability to manipulate probability to a certain extent but are unable to likewise transfer into the bodies of their children.¡±


    Regina leaned over to Chance. ¡°Why does he keep saying that?¡±


    Chance glanced sideways. ¡°Saying what?¡±


    ¡°¡®As you know.¡¯ He¡¯s said it twice so far, and it means functionally nothing. Why bother to say what they already know? Much less point it out.¡± Regina replied. Chance tried to ignore her and listen to the speech.


    ¡°The field of natural sciences known as heritability has gained significant ground in recent years. Our long history of selective breeding in plants and animal husbandry has made the passing of traits from generation to generation well documented. But when applied to humans, these traits are generally less clear. Traditional historically documented lineage is often very hard to parse with the large number of repeated names and interbreeding within extended families.¡± Reginald paused for effect.


    ¡°As you know, however¡ª¡±


    ¡°He did it again,¡± Regina whispered to Chance, who continued to try and ignore her.


    ¡°A member of the Patriarch¡¯s family with a bloodline of sufficient purity will manifest the distinctive two-toned hair like I have,¡± Reginald continued and gestured to his hair. ¡°This is much easier to track. Because the church so fastidiously tracks the ancestors of the major houses descending from the Patriarch, we can cross-reference these visible traits of individuals with their parents. This shows a pattern of nearly 80 percent of children inheriting both of their hair colors from one or both of their parents. When we increase this sample to include grandparents, this percentage goes up to over 95 percent.


    From data recovered from experimentation on the prisoners captured in the war between Rustang and one of our subjugated client states, Jeranin, we have been able to show a definitive link in their outward physical traits, much as we do with the members of our Patriarch¡¯s own family. Using this data, we can essentially prove that the gifts of the Patriarch are not only heritable in the same way, but likely derived from the same mechanism of propagation.¡±


    The crowd began to mutter among themselves. This speech bordered on challenging church doctrine, which claimed that the Patriarch¡¯s gifts were solely unique to him. Most of the crowd accepted all church doctrine as unquestionable truth.


    ¡°Now, as you know . . .¡± Reginald continued.


    Regina leaned over again. ¡°And again . . .¡±


    Chance looked over and quietly said, ¡°Cut him some slack, it¡¯s at most a page or two of expository dialog. It¡¯s meant to inform and set a baseline of understanding with the audience.¡±


    Regina cocked an eye up and said, ¡°Just seems like bad writing to me . . .¡±


    ¡°While the magical ability of the Patriarch is unique, he and his family have persisted since the dawn of time. No other heritable trait is as unique or powerful as those originating with him.


    In conclusion, I believe that the principle of hereditary heritability is sound across species. While there are many things that distinguish us from the beasts of the world, the gap between us seems to be increasingly shrinking as we gain a greater understanding of the world around us.¡± Reginald paused and looked out into the crowd toward Regina and Chance. ¡°I would like to mention and thank my partner and good friend, Chance Alloway. His assistance in gathering this information and building statistical models proved to be vital in this analysis. Thank you for your time.¡± Reginald finished with a bow and moved off the platform. Chance shrunk a little in his seat as the crowd loudly murmured among themselves, discussing the presentation and occasionally glancing over at him. It proved to be quite controversial among even the serious academics who taught at the academy.


    Regina squeezed Chance¡¯s hand hard though, drawing his attention. ¡°I think you two did great. You are really on a roll recently. I hope you stick with the development of your game; I look forward to illustrating the cards for you.¡±


    Chance smiled back. ¡°Thanks. Isn¡¯t your presentation tomorrow? What¡¯s it about?¡±


    Regina shrugged slightly. ¡°Nothing as revolutionary or well researched as yours. It¡¯s about the mineral composition of the newly acquired territories and what potential uses we might have for them. No big thing.¡±


    Chance continued to smile at her. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s going to rock.¡±


    Regina rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and lightly smacked him on the back of the head. ¡°They¡¯re minerals!¡±

 Chapter Four: A Series of Unfortunate Events

    Chapter Four: A Series of Unfortunate Events


    ¡°Ow!¡± Reginald yelped. ¡°That hurt! Watch the hands.¡±


    A swift crack echoed in the practice room as another blow landed between the staves. ¡°You got hit because you were watching your hands. Eyes on the opponent!¡± Zal said to Reginald.


    ¡°HEAD!¡± Regina shouted as she swung a big blow overhanded at Reginald¡¯s head. Reginald shifted his grip and shot the staff up to block with a loud CRACK as the blow connected just above his helmet. Zal smiled; his bushy mustache twisted up.


    ¡°A good block, but you gotta be faster. You won¡¯t get a warning in a real fight,¡± Zal added as Regina and Reginald circled each other, shifting their grip on their staves.


    Regina gracefully switched her stance to spear form and thrust repeatedly. Reginald poorly mirrored her stance and swatted away the incoming blows with ease. The two danced around each other, trading blows to no effect. Letting herself get backed into a corner, Regina smirked unseen under her protective sparring helmet.


    With sudden aggression, Reginald advanced, jabbing over and over with each step. But rather than block or flee, Regina dodged into the blow, around the side, and swatted Reginald¡¯s arms away, sending him off-balance. A swift leg strike was all that was needed to send him tumbling to the ground.


    Not staying down for even a moment, Reginald leaned into his roll and flipped himself up and into a ready stance again. ¡°Good recovery, but if she had been using a real weapon, she could have taken your arm off instead,¡± Zal chided. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t been so aggressive, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to get out from under the blows.¡±


    Regina removed her helmet and shook out her long two-toned auburn-blond hair. Dabbing her forehead with her sleeve, she put down her staff and helmet and smiled at Reginald. ¡°See Reg, that¡¯s what I¡¯m always saying. You act before you think, and your opponent takes advantage of that.¡±


    With a harrumph, Reginald removed his helmet. ¡°And I still say it¡¯s a cheap move to sweep my legs.¡±


    ¡°In combat, there are no rules. You win, or you die. You must be prepared for every trick your opponent can throw at you,¡± Zal said. ¡°Now, how about we move on to sword practice?¡± Reginald and Regina went to stow their weapons as their father¡¯s chamberlain approached from the main door leading out of the training room.


    ¡°Excuse me, Master Zal,¡± the chamberlain said with exquisite politeness. ¡°The mistress and master have been asked to an audience.¡±


    ¡°Can it wait?¡± Zal asked with obvious annoyance in his tone. ¡°We have a while yet to go. After sword practice, we still have drills.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± the chamberlain lingered on the ¡°ly,¡± ¡°this is quite important and cannot wait.¡±


    ¡°Buh,¡± Regina moaned and rolled her eyes. ¡°What does father want this time?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be rude,¡± Reginald admonished. ¡°If father needs us, it must be important,¡± he said, concealing his relief at being done with practice early. Reginald and Regina helped each other remove the rest of their padded practice armor, and in a few minutes, they moved to follow the chamberlain to the audience chamber.


    The three walked through the twisting hallways of the inner compound. ¡°What do you think this is about?¡± Reginald said, addressing both the chamberlain and Regina.


    ¡°How would I know?¡± Regina asked rhetorically. ¡°I¡¯m never included in anything.¡±


    ¡°I am quite certain your father would like to discuss it with you himself,¡± the chamberlain said dryly.


    ¡°Ooo, ominous,¡± Reginald said, waving his hands in big circles. As they went to enter the main audience chamber, the massive double door swung open. Out walked a herald carrying a golden trumpet, followed by several men holding various flags.


    ¡°Make way! Make way! The Patriarch comes!¡± The recognizable shrill cry of the Patriarch¡¯s personal herald rang out from right in front of them. Regina was just quick enough to get out of the way. Reginald was not so dexterous and collided with the herald, collapsing in a heap. The room began to darken as he fell. Reginald braced his hands and knees, and when he finally stopped tumbling, he looked up to the disapproving grimace and pitch-black eyes of the Patriarch drinking the light from the room. He wore black robes with gold trim and stood over Reginald, looking down imperiously.


    ¡°Foolish boy! Can¡¯t you watch where you¡¯re going . . .¡± the Patriarch scolded.


    Springing to his feet as quickly as he could, Reginald straightened and then bowed low. ¡°Oh . . . uh. Hello, Your Greatness.¡± He shuffled backward while still bowing. ¡°I apologize for my clumsiness. I am but a worm at your feet.¡±


    One eyebrow crept up on the Patriarch¡¯s face. ¡°Are you making fun, boy?¡±


    Reginald stiffened. ¡°No sir, not me, never. I don¡¯t even like jokes!¡±


    The Patriarch¡¯s face did not change and he simply stared directly at Reginald in the eyes. His black eyes pulled in small motes of light from around him. The staring contest continued before Reginald became uncomfortable and averted his gaze. The Patriarch sneered imperiously at Reginald who now watched the floor. Satisfied with his victory in a staring contest with a child, the ancient emperor let out a mirthless and dismissive growl. ¡°You¡¯d do well to work on that piety, son. You could be the high priest someday. And I won¡¯t stand for any nonsense.¡± The Patriarch did not wait for a response and moved on with his heraldic entourage. As the Patriarch left the room, the light returned to normal.


    After the entourage had passed, Regina leaned over and with a low voice asked, ¡°What do you suppose THAT was about?¡±


    Reginald¡¯s face was locked in a worried scowl. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it can¡¯t be good. What was with that quip about becoming high priest anyway?¡±


    Regina peered into the room and did not immediately see their father. ¡°Well, guess it¡¯s time to find out . . .¡±


    They walked through the main hall, which was supported by tall stone pillars with pointed arches. Light filtered in through large diamond-shaped windows in the wall, facing south, lighting a series of frescoes depicting various historical scenes. The siblings stopped suddenly as they finally saw their father. He was wearing his red and green formal robes for meeting with the Patriarch and leaning against one of the large stone pillars that were spread evenly through the ostentatiously vaulted ceiling. Rather than resting aloof, waiting patiently, whistling whimsically, or any other behavior they knew their father for, he stood with his back turned to them and his shoulders moved up and down in what was barely contained sobbing.


    It was not quiet. He wasn¡¯t prone to crying, so in the limited times that he did, he was none too subtle about it. The siblings looked at each other very worriedly. Reginald gestured his head toward their father in a failed attempt to convey something in silent body language. Regina had equal difficulty as she repeated the gesture and bulged her eyes for emphasis.


    Abruptly, the crying stopped.Their father straightened his shoulders and wiped his still hidden face with one of his oversized robe sleeves. ¡°You two are sweet to give me some space, but I could feel you stop walking Reginald.¡± He shook his head twice quickly to clear his eyes, and turned to face his children.


    His eyes were bloodshot and puffy and he had done a terrible job at wiping his nose with his robe. But he seemed quite composed to his children compared to the weeping mess that he seemed not two moments before. ¡°I don¡¯t even have to hear you boy. From the moment you left your mother, I could sense you as my heir as much as feel the beat of my own heart.¡± He forced a smile and joked, ¡°Though you were never very quiet anyway. You can¡¯t pull anything over on your old man, eh?¡±


    Regina and Reginald still stood in shocked silence. They could see in real time as their father equipped his carefully constructed masquerade of levity over his apparent sorrow.


    Reginald and Regina shared a concerned look. Regina asked, ¡°What¡¯s going on father, you¡¯re worrying us.¡±


    Their father rubbed the brow of his nose and took a huge sigh. ¡°My brothers are dead.¡±


    Regina gasped. Reginald just looked at his feet. ¡°What? All of them? How is that even possible?¡± Regina asked.


    Their father shook his head. ¡°Not all of them. My oldest brother Paul is safe in the palace. But your uncles, Jefe and Johnathan, died in a mortar attack on the front lines of the Rustang¨CJeranin war sometime last week. They weren¡¯t anywhere near the fighting even. It looks like the Rustang are further ahead of us in technology than we thought . . .¡± His voice trailed off as he spoke with resigned melancholy.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry, Father . . .¡± Regina said. Reginald continued staring at his shoes, contemplating the ramifications.


    ¡°They took over their sons, of course. But now they are out of the line of succession,¡± he said in reply.


    ¡°So that means . . .¡± Regina said.


    Their father nodded and looked away. ¡°Yes, that makes me the new spare heir for the Patriarch.¡± He let out a loud and long sigh before continuing. ¡°And with that, comes some additional responsibilities for you two.¡±


    A worried look crossed Regina¡¯s face. Reginald continued to look at his feet, he knew what was coming. ¡°As the son and daughter of the spare son, you are both elevated to be Prince and Princess of the realm. Congratulations.¡±


    ¡°Hooray, just what I always wanted,¡± Regina said deadpan, trying not to roll her eyes. ¡°But what does this have to do with responsibilities?¡±


    ¡°Well, you need to be prepared in the event I do become the heir.¡±


    ¡°What does that entail, exactly?¡± Regina asked, still concerned.


    ¡°It means I have to join the priesthood . . .¡± Reginald said, resigned.


    ¡°What? But you hate reading, and piety for that matter. You¡¯d be a terrible priest.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± their father interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s his duty; he could be high priest someday, and it¡¯s important that he be learned in the ways of the church just in case. He starts next week.¡±


    A worried look came to Regina¡¯s face. ¡°So, what does that mean for me?¡±


    ¡°Well . . .¡± their father said, looking away. ¡°You¡¯re to be married to the king of Galic.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± both siblings said.


    ¡°Next week.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± they said again.


    ¡°In Galic, where none of us can attend . . .¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?!?¡± both siblings yelled now.


    ¡°I know, I know, I¡¯m not happy about it either. But my brother Jefe¡¯s daughter, your cousin, Yasmina? She was supposed to do it, but now that her family line is cut off from the Patriarch line, she isn¡¯t suitable for a diplomatic marriage. Someone had to take her place, and, well, that¡¯s you.¡±


    Regina looked down. ¡°I don¡¯t believe this. You¡¯re telling me. I have to go half a continent away, by myself, to get married to some fat, slovenly, barbaric king? In a week? I can¡¯t believe this, what did mother say?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t told her yet . . .¡± their father said, burying his face in his hands. ¡°She¡¯s going to be heartbroken.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bet,¡± Reginald said with a bit of snark in his tone.


    Regina was shaking, she was so angry. ¡°How could you agree to this? Yasmina is almost twenty! They know I¡¯m only seventeen, right? You knew how we would react.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not up to me!¡± Their father exclaimed. ¡°It¡¯s an order directly from the Patriarch. When God himself tells you to do something, you do it.¡±


    Regina sighed; he had a point there. ¡°Well, at least I¡¯ll have a week to pack and say goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Well . . .¡± their father said.


    ¡°What?¡± Regina said, with venom in her voice.


    ¡°The wedding is in a week, because of something about the lunar calendar they follow. But it takes almost that long to get there. So . . .¡±


    ¡°Oh no,¡± Regina said.


    ¡°You leave early tomorrow morning. Even then, you¡¯ll barely make it. Yasmina was already most of the way there anyway.¡±


    Regina put her face in her hands and started to cry. Reginald put his arm around her. ¡°It¡¯ll be ok, Sis,¡± he said reassuringly. ¡°It might not be so bad; he may not be as fat or slovenly as you think. Maybe he¡¯s handsome and gallant.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if he¡¯s the most handsome man in the world! I want to marry . . . Well. Not some stranger I don¡¯t know!¡± Regina cried.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m really sorry,¡± their father said. ¡°If there was another way, I¡¯d be all for it. But I just don¡¯t see a way out of this.¡± He sighed. ¡°Regina, I¡¯ll have the servants pack your things. Take the rest of the day to do whatever you want, say goodbye to people, spend time with your mother, whatever. Just give me time to break the news to her. It¡¯s the least I can do.¡±


    Regina and Reginald left the audience chamber and just walked silently for a bit. ¡°What do you want to do?¡± Reginald asked.


    ¡°Well, father is talking to mother right now. So . . . I guess let me go say goodbye to Chance,¡± Regina said, still wiping her eyes.


    ¡°Man, I didn¡¯t even think about Chance. He¡¯s going to flip out.¡±


    #


    They walked out of their estate in the palace district and went the short distance to the upper district where Chance lived. They knocked on the front door of Chance¡¯s house, and his father answered the door.


    ¡°Good afternoon, General, sir,¡± Regina said.


    Chance¡¯s father raised one hand and said, ¡°How many times have I told you, Regina, you can just use Mr. Alloway, I¡¯ve been retired almost your whole life.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know, I just like to see you get flustered from time to time.¡± Regina laughed back. ¡°Though in seriousness, thank you for all you have done for me. I know I am in your debt.¡±


    The old general perked up, concerned at the comment. ¡°Ok . . . what¡¯s this about?¡±


    Reginald sighed and explained the situation while Regina attempted to look anywhere but at Chance¡¯s father. When Reginald finished, the older man sat silently for a moment. ¡°Regina, I am so sorry you were put in this situation. If it is any comfort, I have known you most of your life, and if there were ever a girl your age that could not just survive¡ªbut thrive¡ªin this new situation, it would be you.¡± Regina couldn¡¯t suppress her smile at that and looked up sheepishly. He placed a hand lightly on one of her shoulders. ¡°I am going to miss you a lot. I know Chance will miss you most of all. Be sure to write to him, ok? Just so he doesn¡¯t go crazy.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir, I sure will,¡± Regina answered.


    ¡°Go on ahead, he is out back practicing his technique.¡± Before the siblings had even left the room, his father was hard at work pondering what he might do to make Chance feel better after their conversation. He went inside to prepare Chance¡¯s favorite food. His father knew it was not much. But it was a start.


    They walked through the modest¡ªby their standards¡ªhouse, and into the backyard where Chance was working. Chance didn¡¯t notice them at first, lost in the rigors of thrusting and swinging his staff, hitting a wooden target dummy. After a moment though, he saw them out of his peripheral vision and turned to face them. ¡°Reg! Regina! What brings you to our humble estate this fine afternoon?¡± Their faces said volumes. ¡°Yeesh,¡± he said, concern growing on his face. ¡°Who died?¡± They explained to him what had happened and what was going to happen soon.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to what?!?¡±


    ¡°Get married next week . . .¡± Regina said, looking at the ground.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought you said . . .¡± Chance hurled his staff at the weapon rack and put his head in his hands. He shook with anger and disappointment. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯d go through with this!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I have a choice!¡± Regina yelled back.


    Angry and upset Chance said, ¡°You always have a choice. We can leave, renounce our titles and run away. I have saved up enough that we could get out of here and be long gone before they even start looking for us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple!¡± Regina cried. ¡°I have my family to think about. What would happen to them if their only daughter ran away in the dead of night, never to be seen again? It¡¯d kill them. Maybe literally, if the Patriarch has his way.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, plus how far do you think you can make it before they find you?¡± Reginald added, gesturing to their distinctive two-toned hair.


    ¡°Shut up Reg!¡± Chance snapped. Reginald¡¯s hurt expression made Chance immediately regret his outburst. He looked away, somewhat ashamed. ¡°Sorry Reg, I don¡¯t want to take it out on you. I¡¯m just . . . I don¡¯t even know.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ok,¡± Reginald replied. ¡°You¡¯re just upset, I am too.¡±


    ¡°Not to make a bad situation worse,¡± Regina said, ¡°but I should probably head back home, my mother has probably been informed by now and she¡¯ll need consoling.¡±


    Chance sighed. ¡°Typical Regina, always thinking about other people . . .¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Chance, truly I am.¡± Regina sighed and produced a small box from the pack she had brought with her. She handed it to Chance and said, ¡°I was going to give this to you on your birthday soon, but in light of the circumstances I think I should give it to you now. If only as something to remember me by.¡±


    Chance turned the small wooden box over in his hands before moving the small metal clasp that held the two halves together. There were a series of cards that matched the designs they had discussed for his card game. On each, there was information about the card and how it could be used in fine handwriting, as well as a detailed illustration of the spell or creature the card represented.


    ¡°I know we have designed a lot more cards. But these were all the ones I had time to make already. I hope you enjoy them.¡±


    Closing the box gently, Chance looked up to Regina and rushed forward to hug her tightly. ¡°Thank you. I am going to miss you unbearably.¡±


    Once Chance let his grip on her go, she took a step back and said, ¡°I leave early tomorrow morning if you want to come by to say goodbye.¡± And with that, they turned to leave. They almost got out of earshot before Chance started to cry softly.


    #


    Late that night, squeezing through the same gap in the hedges they always had, Chance snuck into Regina and Reginald¡¯s backyard. Behind him, he dragged two large packs, a couple of staves, and a sizable purse of silver. As he had done many times before, he picked up the small gravel stones that lined the path and pelted Regina¡¯s window. Light came on and she poked her head out the window. He waved and lifted one of the bags into the air. She didn¡¯t say anything, and he waited patiently as she made her way outside.


    ¡°What are you DOING here?¡± Regina asked in a raspy whisper-shout.


    ¡°You know what I¡¯m doing here,¡± Chance replied. ¡°Come on, I got you a change of clothes, we¡¯ve got food and supplies for weeks on the open road. And I had to do a little creative borrowing from my father, but I have plenty of silver too!¡± He said, opening a pouch to reveal the small fortune.


    ¡°You mean you stole it.¡±


    ¡°Semantics. Look, it¡¯s for a good cause, all right?¡± Chance said.


    ¡°Look, you¡¯re really sweet, but I already told you. I can¡¯t. I have a duty to my family, and they have to come first,¡± Regina said.


    Chance¡¯s face fell in disappointment. That was the answer he was expecting, but he still didn¡¯t like it. ¡°Please,¡± he begged. He stumbled, grasping for the right words that only came out as incoherent gurgling. He gave up. ¡°PLEASE, I¡¯m begging you. I can¡¯t . . .¡± He swallowed hard. ¡°I can¡¯t stand the idea of never seeing you again.¡±


    Her face turned to one of sympathy. ¡°I know. Me too. It¡¯s just not in the stars.¡± She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. ¡°I know it hurts, but try to forget me. Ok?¡± And she turned to walk back inside.


    ¡°Never,¡± Chance said under his breath softly to himself, but Regina still heard. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying her best not to weep.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go with him?¡± Reginald asked from the darkness.


    Startled, Regina stiffened. ¡°Reginald? You heard me?¡±


    ¡°Well, our rooms are right next to each other, and you¡¯re not very quiet,¡± he said as he came over and sat on the ground next to her.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t do your duty and rat me out,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh Sis,¡± he said. ¡°More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you¡¯d be happy as a vagrant and fugitive, who am I to stand in your way?¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Seriously,¡± she said. They sat quietly for a moment.


    ¡°You know how he feels about you. Right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah . . .¡± she said.


    ¡°Well, do you feel the same way?¡±


    ¡°Yes. No. I don¡¯t know . . . I don¡¯t know how I feel. I¡¯m so stirred up with this whole thing that I can¡¯t separate out my emotions,¡± she said.


    Reginald only grunted in reply. They sat together quietly for a few minutes in the dark. ¡°Are you ready to go back to bed? You have a big day tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied, and as quietly as they could, they snuck back upstairs to their rooms.


    Outside, Chance had squeezed back through the hedges and sat on one of the packs of supplies in the street on the other side of the hedge. He sat there contemplating for quite a while, until one of the guards patrolled by and made him stop loitering. Dejectedly, he dragged his would-be new life¡¯s supplies behind him as he walked to his house. As soon as he entered, he dropped his stuff and walked into his room. He sat on his bed, took off his boots, and laid down, not even changing clothes. He lay there but couldn¡¯t sleep, his thoughts kept him up all night.


    #


    The following morning was very busy. Servants were busy going to and fro, preparing for Regina¡¯s departure. Their mother had even woken up early to personally make her one of her favorite dishes. It was just pancakes, but they could taste the love¡ªand the butter¡ªin every bite. As she went to leave, her mother gave Regina a small pot with a flower from their garden. It had a single, long stalk with a black, diamond-shaped center and layers of interlocking very-dark-purple petals. Her mother knew it was one of their favorites, and that it didn¡¯t already grow in Galic.


    Soon, the preparation was done and they said their final goodbyes. Her father was mostly stoic, but she could tell he was deeply saddened to see her go. Her mother was predictably hysterical and cried all over her. Reginald barely said anything other than ¡°Goodbye,¡± and hugged her. Regina walked outside and looked around expectantly, but Chance was nowhere to be seen. She stepped into the carriage waiting outside her house and took one last opportunity to say goodbye. Her family waved to her and she looked around for Chance just one more time. She resigned herself that Chance was not coming, so she sat down and closed the carriage door.


    She looked out the window as the carriage pulled away and held firm to the potted plant as the carriage lurched to a start. It bumped a bit along the city streets as they wound through the upper district of the city. She could feel the ground change from a bumpy road to the unpaved dirt of a lower city street as soon as they crossed the bridge. She looked down the river that ran toward the rising sun as they crossed, and she had to squint slightly from the light reflected on the river¡¯s surface. Though she did not look away.


    Chance watched her leave from the battlements of the palace district walls. It was high enough above the rest of the city that he could watch it all the way out of the lower city and into the land beyond. He stiffly watched the carriage move out of sight and turned over the box of cards in his hands. He fooled himself that he could still see the carriage long after it was gone from sight. During his delusional vigil of wishful thinking, he reflected on the beauty of the illustrations his dear friend had made for him. He took several heaving breaths, attempting to steady his mind. A large gust of wind pushed him back a pace and he lost his balance, landing on the floor of the battlements behind him. Some of the cards bounced out of the box, and in a panic, he scrambled to grab the spilled cards and grabbed all but one before the next gust came and carried the card out of the battlements to float over the city. He nearly suicidally leaped to his death off the wall as the irreplaceable treasure careened out of reach.


    He cursed loudly before continuing with several slightly softer curses, immediately followed by a barrage of even louder profanity screamed into the wind. Frustrated and angry, he closed the box of cards and seethed, staring out over the city, just thinking. He followed in his father¡¯s footsteps and joined the army the next day.

 Chapter Five: Home Away from Home

    Chapter Five: Home Away from Home


    The road to Galic was a long and mostly boring one. They were accompanied by a sizable royal escort, so no one even considered banditry or getting in their way. The days passed by uneventfully. Regina had thought ahead and brought several books to read, but she finished them in the first few days, and you can only reread the same book so many times before it starts to get old.


    Galic was overwhelmingly mountainous and the road to the capital was long and winding, with many switchbacks as they climbed the mountains. Regina had a harder time breathing and shivered in the deepening increasing cold. Fortunately, her father had thought about the cold and made sure the servants packed her several warm changes of clothes, though they were all typical female clothes expected of a woman of her station. Some were transparently regal clout-seeking finery. But the servants at home knew what she liked, so it was mostly blue and yellow dresses, along with a handful of matching jackets complete with conspicuous golden buttons to compliment the outfit.


    Upon reaching the outskirts of the capital of Galic, J-rai, the entourage was stopped at the gate where they were questioned about their identity and purpose. The caravan master explained their purpose, and once they verified that they did indeed have a seventeen-year-old princess with them, they let them pass.


    The advanced guard had ridden ahead of them, so the king was alerted to their arrival, and heralds were sent to welcome the caravan to the city. The large wooden gate was inlaid with a spinning metal pattern and generally left open. Though the doors stood flush with the walls of the gate, Regina observed the very intricate craftsmanship of the metal pattern. Trumpets announced them as they passed through the outer gate. The trumpeters and herald marched in front of the entourage, announcing her passing.


    Regina could not see very much outside of the carriage windows. She could have leaned out and looked around more, but people came out in large numbers to watch along the street in hopes of catching a peek at their new queen. She was not regularly shy, but the combination of new climate, culture, and crowds held her firmly out of sight.


    The road they were on in the city did have the familiar slight bounce of a paved road, but it was far smoother than the roads of Rashil she was accustomed to. Working up the courage to poke her head outside to look down, she saw that rather than a gravel strip like most of the roads in Rashil, it was made of many rectangular stones that fit together in a herringbone pattern with small amounts of dirt filling in any minor gaps.


    She remarked to herself that the masonry was impressive, but almost as soon as she was visible from outside the carriage, the assembled crowd got audibly excited and she suddenly became very self-conscious. She went to lean back in, but the hood of the cloak she was wearing to protect against the cold got caught slightly on the window frame and it pulled back to reveal her long two-toned auburn-blond hair tied in her braid.


    The crowd audibly gasped at the reveal of the billowing locks of hair. Fully mortified by the attention, she pulled inside forcefully and felt the top of hood shred. She cursed, but when she felt the part where it had caught on the door, it was a relatively minor blemish.


    Regina mostly hid in the carriage the rest of the way as she was unaccustomed to that sort of attention. She did spare a glance or two out of the window and noticed the people of the town wore a very different style of dress. Both genders dressed similarly, which was very different to the highly restrictive, gendered wardrobes of her homeland in Rashil. Their clothes were also far more utilitarian compared to the segregated styles of robes or tunics in the lowlands of Rashil. The natives of Galic almost all wore pants and heavy coats to protect against the cold. She also noted that most of the clothes had some form of off-colored trim that made the edges of each garment stand out.


    Instead of sandals, they wore thick leather boots that were waterproof for walking through the snow present in the high mountain peaks, especially when winter came. Though there was no snow now.


    The city was much smaller than the capital of Rashil. It was divided by three concentric circular walls. Like a motte and bailey fortress but built on the side of a mountain. The innermost walled section was massive enough to accommodate the entire town in the event of a siege. If they didn¡¯t mind sharing elbow space.


    The entourage passed through the gate in the inner wall and the trumpeting stopped. The carriage pulled around the courtyard until it was pulled up in front of the keep. It was quiet for a moment while everyone moved into position. The herald they brought with them came close to the window. ¡°Are you ready, Princess?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever be, so let¡¯s just get this over with.¡± Regina took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. It didn¡¯t help.


    With sudden fanfare, the trumpeting began again and the herald bellowed, ¡°My lords and ladies, it is with great pleasure that I present to you: Princess Regina of Rashil!¡± The door to the carriage swung open. Regina froze in the carriage and hid for a moment before gathering her nerves. Looking out the door, she observed the large crowd and leaped from frozen right over petrified and landed in a pile of permafrost that locked her in place.


    The glare of the sudden increase in light moving from the inside of the dark carriage and into the sunlight of her new home blinded her. She raised one hand to shield her eyes in a way that she hoped looked like a wave. As her vision adjusted she what felt like an endless crowd.


    Gathered around the carriage was nearly every castle servant, garrison soldier, and landed nobility in the kingdom. She had expected a welcoming party perhaps, not a welcoming mob.


    She looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces and seriously considered going back inside the carriage to hide. The crowd parted and a man began to approach her. He was tall, appeared to be in his late twenties, had short blond hair with a short, but curly beard, steel blue eyes, and he was wearing a red coat with gold trim and pants to match. He wasn¡¯t the most handsome man she had ever seen, but he certainly was not ugly, with a firm jawline and seemingly muscular physique.


    The man approached slowly, and once he got close, he said, ¡°Hello, Princess, I am King Stewart.¡± He lowered his head and bent to one knee. ¡°It¡¯s my great pleasure to meet you at last.¡± The welcoming mob mumbled at the gesture, but almost as one they went to one knee in respect.


    Regina looked at the crowd kneeling in front of her and became even more uncomfortable. ¡°Oh, please, don¡¯t kneel on my account. It is I who owe you honor,¡± she said and pulled back her hood. As she did, she lowered her eyes, crossed one leg in front of the other, and spread her skirt in a curtsey.


    When she looked back up, the gaze of the crowd had grown even more intense and she heard several people murmuring about her long, two-toned hair. Its hue moved with its typical luster in delicate patterns that stunned the crowd. The king rose, and a moment later so did the rest of the assembled crowd.


    The king smiled at her and said, ¡°When they told me they had to make a last-minute substitution, I was worried. But seeing you . . . You are more beautiful than a full moon in a clear sky of stars.¡± Regina blushed hard at the compliment. ¡°And if you don¡¯t mind me saying,¡± the king added, ¡°your hair is simply striking. I have never seen the two-toned hair of the Rashilian royalty; it¡¯s different than I was expecting, but no less lovely.¡±


    Regina unconsciously touched her braid and said, ¡°T-thank you.¡± She stumbled over her words. ¡°Your hair is very lovely too,¡± she added, not sure what else to say.


    The king ran his hand through his short blond hair and laughed. ¡°Thank you, my father gave it to me. So, I¡¯m sure it is.¡± He stepped forward and offered his hand to aid her in exiting the carriage. She gratefully accepted and stepped out of the carriage.


    She missed the second step down and tripped forward into the arms of the king. ¡°Woah there! Let¡¯s not get carried away too quickly, huh?¡± the king said with an amused smile. In the small tumble, Regina¡¯s face stopped just a short distance from his and she flushed immediately, feeling like she would die from embarrassment. Though she found herself distracted by the warmth of the king¡¯s hands on her slightly trembling, cold fingers. Her nerves calmed though as he helped her find her footing, and he remarked in a whisper only they could hear, ¡°Your violet eyes are simply breathtaking as well, my lady.¡±


    A sharp shiver ran up Regina¡¯s spine as she tried and failed to not blush at the unexpected touch and simultaneous mortified embarrassment from the trip. Regaining her composure somewhat, she brushed the creases of her cerulean dress and looked around the crowd a bit more calmly. This place doesn¡¯t seem barbaric like the stories say. And the king, he¡¯s not fat or slovenly at all! Regina thought to herself. So far, this experience was very unlike what she was expecting. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± she asked, unsure of what to do with herself.


    ¡°Well,¡± King Stewart said. ¡°As much as it pains me to leave you, I have some important royal business to take care of today. So, I cannot personally show you around. But I have arranged for my chamberlain to show you around the castle and give you an orientation.¡± Beside the king, a man in a buttoned-up blue coat and long brown pants approached. He had short gray hair and was certainly old, but his body showed firm and defined muscles under his coat. Distinctly contrasted by the pudgy, unathletic bureaucrats of Rashil.


    ¡°That would be me, Princess,¡± said the man as he bowed slightly. ¡°I am Chamberlain Danz. If you would please follow me, it would be my honor to show you the castle and all its amenities.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Regina said. The chamberlain led her inside and she left the carriage and attendants behind. They crossed through the large archway that held the front door of the keep and the tour began. Danz showed her the audience chamber/throne room, the kitchens, the dining room, the small garden the kitchen kept for fresh herbs, and the battlements. Tapestries and sculptures seemed to line every wall. When the chamberlain showed her the sizable library of the castle, she audibly gasped. It held more books than she had ever seen in one place, other than her school/church archives. Eventually, the chamberlain led her down a set of spiral stairs that seemed to go underground.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think I need to see the dungeon . . .¡± Regina said a bit nervously.


    ¡°Oh no, Princess,¡± Chamberlain Danz said. ¡°We don¡¯t have a dungeon as you might describe it here. But we do have something else down here.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? What¡¯s that?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s better if you see for yourself,¡± Danz replied as they continued to descend. Darkness deepened during their descent, but Danz didn¡¯t carry a torch or lantern. Regina was about to ask why but the dark gave way to a soft green glow.


    As Regina¡¯s eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed the light was coming from patches of bioluminescent moss clinging to the walls. Regina was fascinated, having never seen anything like it before. ¡°Right this way,¡± the chamberlain added, pulling her away from her fascination.


    Regina heard the spring before she saw it. They turned a corner, and she saw a large pool of water that seemed to flow out through an unassuming opening in the cavern wall. It would go completely unnoticed save for a small spring trickled a small, but constant flow of water and into the collected pool. ¡°Wow,¡± Regina said. ¡°This is incredible, I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty unique,¡± the chamberlain said. ¡°You can, of course, come down here anytime you¡¯d like. The king likes to bathe in the spring from time to time. The water is warm, so it soothes the muscles and warms the body.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Regina said again.


    ¡°Indeed, the castle was built on top of the spring for a reason. It¡¯s a source of fresh, clean drinking water.¡± The chamberlain smirked. ¡°So long as the king hasn¡¯t been bathing in it of course,¡± he added.


    ¡°So as long as your food stores hold out, you can withstand a siege basically indefinitely,¡± Regina said.


    ¡°Exactly right,¡± the chamberlain said, impressed and surprised at her knowledge of military tactics. ¡°Now, there¡¯s one more stop on our tour¡ªyour temporary quarters. Together they walked back up the spiral stairs to the main level of the castle, then one floor higher. Regina huffed and puffed as she climbed the stairs, unaccustomed to the thin air. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Princess, you¡¯ll get used to the air. Everyone does, it just takes time.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Regina said in reply. They walked down the hall until they reached a large gilded wooden door. The chamberlain opened the door.


    Inside was a large canopy bed with nightstands on each side, several couches, a large and ornate, though not opulent desk, and a full-length mirror. Tapestries hung on the wall and a chest at the foot of the bed. Her bags from the carriage had already been brought up.


    ¡°This will be your room for the day. You can rest, refresh yourself, and change here for the ceremony later.¡± Danz turned to her and plainly said, ¡°After the ceremony, you will, of course, retire to the king¡¯s chambers, where we will move your baggage once you have everything you need.¡±


    Regina swallowed hard, contemplating sharing a bedroom with someone else. She knew other cultures and commoners without adequate space slept with their spouses sometimes, but none of the nobility of Rashil did. She took it for granted that a king and queen would sleep separately. It would be improper. Why should a woman, no matter how noble, linger once her duty was completed?


    ¡°And this is where I leave you,¡± Danz said. ¡°The seamstress should be up shortly to take your measurements and fit your dress.¡±


    ¡°My dress?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°For the ceremony tonight.¡±


    Regina had almost forgotten she was getting married tonight. Her nerves gripped her heart again. ¡°Oh, right . . .¡± she said.


    A concerned look crossed the chamberlain¡¯s face as he noticed her discomfort. ¡°I don¡¯t want to overstep my bounds, Princess,¡± the chamberlain said with a bow. ¡°But you shouldn¡¯t be overly nervous. King Stewart is one of the kindest and most gracious men I¡¯ve ever met. Even more so than his father, may he rest in peace. I am extremely lucky to serve such a noble lord.¡±


    ¡°Thank you . . .¡± she said, trailing off, genuinely grateful for the advice, but no less worried. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll be fine waiting here,¡± she added. ¡°You can go take care of your other duties.¡±


    The chamberlain bowed and made his exit, closing the large gilded door behind him. Fully alone for the first time since she left Rashil, she sat on one of the couches and tried not to cry. She felt terribly lonely and missed her family dearly. She especially missed Reginald; they hadn¡¯t ever been apart for this long, and it was only going to get longer.


    Regina nervously bounced sitting on her hands lost in worrying thoughts. Three knocks ripped Regina away from her day-nightmare, who was grateful for the release. She opened the door and there was a short woman holding a measuring tape and stool, and a taller woman carrying a green-and-blue-colored dress with small, gold-colored embroidery lining the seams of the shoulders, bust, and bottom. ¡°Hello, Princess,¡± the seamstress said as she bowed slightly. ¡°I¡¯m here to take your measurements and prepare your dress.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Regina said. ¡°Come in.¡±


    They entered and the seamstress gestured for her to stand in the center of the room. She stood on the stool and measured Regina¡¯s height, bust, waist, and hips. Nodding and thinking, the seamstress said to herself, ¡°With just a few alterations, we should be able to get this to fit perfectly. Let out the bust a little, narrow the waist, but other than that, it should be a good fit. How about you try it on as it is now, and we¡¯ll see if that¡¯s all we need changed.¡± The assistant handed her the blue and green dress to try on.


    Regina walked a few steps away and looked at the dress. The two women looked at her expectantly. ¡°Um, would you mind turning around while I change?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± the seamstress said. ¡°Apologies, Princess. I have heard of the Rashilian preference for modesty, but I wasn¡¯t thinking about it. We¡¯ll of course turn around.¡± They did as she said, and Regina looked around nervously as though some hidden pair of eyes were spying on her.


    She shuffled out of her current dress in layers. It was cold in the room, so she shivered as she stood there in just her underclothes. She quickly put on the provided dress. ¡°Ok, you can turn back around.¡±


    The seamstress and her assistant turned around. The seamstress put her hands to her mouth; the assistant merely smiled. ¡°Oh Princess, you look beautiful!¡±


    Regina did not feel beautiful. She had a hard time breathing, and her breasts were squished in the dress so they welled up and looked like they might fall out at any second. ¡°I think you might have to let the bust out more than a little . . .¡± she said.


    ¡°Of course, Princess, whatever you would like,¡± The seamstress said. The two seamstresses talked among themselves as they moved around her, measuring every little part of her body while Regina stood there awkwardly. ¡°You can take the dress off now. We¡¯ll go alter it and bring it back before tonight.¡± Both women respectfully turned around again to let her change. It took longer to get into her old clothes than to get out of them. Once she was done, she told the two women they could turn around, and handed them back the dress.


    As the seamstress gathered the dress and rest of her supplies she said, ¡°Would you like us to send up your appointed handmaiden? She should be able to take care of any needs you may have and answer any questions.¡±


    Regina stammered, unsure of the proper response before settling on ¡°Sure? I guess?¡±


    The seamstress nodded, accepting the answer in the form of a question. ¡°Her name is Rebecca. I¡¯m sure her service will prove to be most satisfactory. She has some other duties she is attending to right now, but she should be up in about an hour.¡± She turned and left with her assistant, bid her a farewell, and left the room, closing the door behind them. Alone again, she sat down on the bed and thought for a while. The sun was far from setting, so she figured she had several hours to kill.


    Another interminable hour later there was a knock at the door. Regina stood and went to open the door. On the other side was a woman with long blond hair wearing a simple blue dress that was tied in the back.


    The woman bowed low and said, ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am Rebecca, and will serve as your handmaiden and assistant for as long as you¡¯ll allow me.¡±


    Regina shuffled her feet nervously. She¡¯d had servants at her father¡¯s house. But never one to attend to her specific needs exclusively. And this, in combination with all the other recent changes in life was unsettling. ¡°Hello . . .¡± she said back, trailing off.


    Rebecca rose from her bow and smiled at Regina warmly. She saw the discomfort on Regina¡¯s face and said, ¡°If I may say so, you need not worry. We may do things a little differently than in Rashil. I think you will acclimate to our way of doing things quickly, along with the air. You may feel a bit ill for a few days at least, but it will subside eventually.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good to know,¡± Regina said as she put a hand to her forehead. She had a powerful headache that had not gone away since they first got to the mountains. It occurred to her that the two were perhaps related.


    Seeing her holding her head, Rebecca intuited the reason for the gesture. ¡°We have some herbs to help with that headache if you¡¯d like. They aren¡¯t narcotic, so you should be plenty fine for the ceremony later.¡±


    Regina was not overly fond of medicine, as it almost always tasted gross, but the headache was bad enough that she thought she would prefer that to the headache. ¡°Yes, please, that sounds great, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Of course, is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime before I go?¡± Rebecca asked further.


    Regina looked over to her bags and contemplated taking out one of her books to read while she waited. But then she remembered the massive library Danz had shown her earlier. ¡°Yes, actually, I¡¯m a little confused by the layout of the castle. Danz said that you have quite an extensive archive and library. Could you perhaps show me?¡±


    Rebecca smiled wide and said, ¡°Of course! Just follow me and I will show you how to get there.¡±


    Regina smoothed the creases out of her dress and made her way to the library. The castle was very large, and while it was laid out simply, she had only been through it once before and wasn¡¯t sure of the way. Rebecca took the lead as she walked in the hallway. When servants passed her in the hall, they made a point to move out of her way with deference and wished her a good day, although never in the transparently sycophantic way she was accustomed to. After descending the stairs, she found herself in the large library. She walked around the shelves, but did not recognize the pattern in how they were organized.


    Rebecca observed her silently as she walked around the room looking at the books.


    ¡°Is there anything else I can get for you, other than the pain-reducing herbs? There should be a feast after the ceremony later, but if you are thirsty, I can get you some wine or the fresh spring water to take with it.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Regina that she was quite thirsty and said, ¡°Yes, actually, that would be great. I¡¯d love some water. Thank you.¡± Rebecca bowed slightly and politely as she left.


    Regina walked around the room several times, looking at the various books. She would pick one up, then try to read the title and the first couple of pages, then put it back. Very few were written in anything resembling Rashilian words. She did this several times until a voice came from the doorway. ¡°Looking for something?¡±


    Startled, Regina spun. In the doorway stood King Stewart. She bowed in front of the king on trained instinct and shook her head, flustered. ¡°No, nothing in particular. Your majesty. I¡¯m just trying to figure out how this is organized, most of the letters in your language are the same, but the vocabulary feels wholly different. I can¡¯t really read any of it,¡± she answered in halting half-sentences, trying to find the proper answer.


    His hand moved between her face and the floor and he gestured for her to look up at him. This only added to her discomposure as she was greeted with a warm and genuine smile. ¡°Well then, maybe I can help you find something. Let me show you.¡± He walked up to her and gestured to the bookcase in front of her. ¡°This case is for books relating to language.¡± He gestured to the top of the shelf. ¡°This is further subdivided by topic. For example, this shelf is for books related to linguistics such as etymology, dictionaries, and grammar.¡± The king moved to the next bookcase and Regina followed.


    ¡°This case is for books pertaining to the arts,¡± King Stewart said. ¡°And this is again further subdivided by subjects such as painting, sculpture, dance, literature, and so on.¡± He gestured and continued in his guided tour as he listed categories and subjects. She observed how well his clothes fit his physique. How sharply his short beard framed his face. How much his eyes sparkled in the refracted light. How cute his lips danced as he spoke that she had hardly noticed they had stopped moving. They had stopped moving. He looked at her expectantly and it occurred to her that she hadn¡¯t been listening at all to what he was saying.


    A dagger of ice chilled her back and she blushed profusely. She spun on instinct to hide her embarrassment and tried to remember what he had been talking about. She had no idea, so she stammered as she glanced around the library. She turned and he smiled at her, quietly amused at the effect he seemed to be having on her. She blushed hard, again. Regina admonished herself internally. Say something! Anything! ¡°Do you have any books on martial arts?¡±


    King Stewart had asked if there was anything he could have the kitchen make for her, so her answer was certainly unexpected. Though without missing a beat, he raised his fist between them, shook it emphatically, and with a comical and nasally voice said, ¡°Well then, how about I give you a knuckle sandwich myself!¡±


    This answer was equally unexpected. The idiom of a knuckle sandwich didn¡¯t exist in the Rashilian vocabulary and was a rough translation to ¡°punch-food¡± improvised from Stewart¡¯s native tongue. Regina stepped back a pace, startled. She spread her stance and defensively raised her hands to counterattack. Of course, no blow came and the soon to be married couple stood awkwardly for a moment.


    Stewart opened his fist, crossed his arms, and placed his palms against his chest in the Galic equivalent of a plaintive apology. This of course only confused Regina more. Another awkward moment. Stewart coughed twice into his fist and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. But with a stance like that, it makes me think you know more on the subject of martial arts than your station might suggest. If you are interested in the subject, I¡¯m sure I could teach you something.¡±


    Regina relaxed somewhat, lowered her hands, and scoffed, ¡°I bet I could teach YOU something. I beat my brother up and down the practice yards several times a week, and that wasn¡¯t even using my magic.¡±


    Stewart paused at this. ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t seen your magic, but even without it, I suppose you could, given how naturally your physique moves with an Ako grace. I am sure we have much we could teach each other.¡± She did not know the Ako term, but did not have time to ask further as he stepped in, and in a hushed and suggestive tone said, ¡°After the wedding tonight, we¡¯ll have to be sure and have a vigorous cultural exchange.¡±


    All at once, the reality of the situation came crashing down on Regina again. She was getting married tonight, this was a king, and she had just scoffed at and challenged him to combat. She unconsciously and reflexively flinched from his approach, though he made no move to touch her.


    Seeing her discomfort, Stewart stepped back a pace and leaned against the large table that ran the length of the library. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just¡ª¡± His voice trailed off, uncertain of what to say. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. When he opened them, he saw Regina not cowering, but clearly upset. He was a king and ten years her senior. She was no child, but she was also no queen.


    He gave her a penetrating stare, and she felt it. It was not lurid, but thoughtful, and it made her feel more naked than when she was with the seamstress earlier. He broke the silence and said, ¡°Speak plainly. Not as a princess or a bride to be. But as Regina.¡± She looked up from her staring contest with the floor.


    ¡°Do you not want to get married?¡±


    Taken aback by the blunt question, she stammered. ¡°No . . .¡± Her voice trailed off. ¡°I know my duty.¡±


    ¡°Because we can wait if you want; the next blue moon isn¡¯t for three years or so, but I can wait that long if you can,¡± the king replied.


    ¡°But¡ªI thought you needed to get married right away?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just a formality. This is to ensure peace between our realms,¡± he said, trying to suppress a pained and horny groan. As gallant as he was, he was still a (mostly) young man telling a beautiful girl he would not have his way with her. ¡°With the treaty concessions, I expect your Patriarch will still honor that, even if you aren¡¯t technically married yet.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the Patriarch very well . . .¡± she mumbled.


    The king nodded silently. He had not met the Patriarch personally. But if his ambassadors and their forced treaties were any indication, she might be correct. ¡°That may be, but I still won¡¯t force you into something you don¡¯t want to do.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said softly and with genuine appreciation. ¡°But it¡¯s not you who¡¯s forcing me into marriage.¡± Her voice trailed off as she thought back to Chance and hoped he was doing well.


    The king frowned and somberly said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± They stood together in silence for a few moments. ¡°Here, maybe this will help.¡± He turned and quickly moved along the bookshelves. He paced up and down the aisle, not saying anything for long enough that Regina was about to ask a question. Stewart finally found his target, pulled it off the shelf, and lifted the small book high above his head like he had just pulled a sword from a stone. ¡°Aha! There we go. I knew I¡¯d find it.¡± He smiled and moved to hand it to her. She graciously accepted it. ¡°This is a book of folk tales from Galic. It might make you feel a little more at home and it is something we can talk about later between chats with nobles I have to pretend to like. If you would like to learn something more specific, I would be more than happy to read it to you.¡±


    The king spoke low and breathy through the half-remembered, less-than-perfect facsimile of the Rashilian tongue he had learned from his tutors as a child. As Regina listened, the halting and uncertain translation evaporated. His words suddenly reverberated in a warm baritone rumble in Regina¡¯s mind. He went to leave before flashing her a quick wink, triggering another blush. ¡°Did anyone ever tell you that you¡¯re very cute when you are flustered?¡±


    For half a moment, the Regina she left behind a week ago appeared as she turned away and blushed for the fifth time in as many moments. The princess returned, replacing her adolescent embarrassment and returning with a rejoinder ready. ¡°Did anyone ever tell you that you are irritating when you think you are clever?¡±


    The king did not frown, or grimace, or sneer, or take offense. He smiled and never broke his gaze from her eyes. ¡°They have not, though I shall take it under advisement and be less clever in the future. Irritating is normal, but I would hate to be predictable. I¡¯ll go to give you some space before the festivities begin, but, if you do change your mind, just say the word.¡± He hid his grin as he walked out of the library to take a very cold shower before the ceremony.


    Regina had not expected such candor or kindness. Much less from a king. She was used to the imperious and disdainful attitude of the Patriarch and his ilk. To see a leader be so different surprised her. After the king left, she took an additional look around the library before sitting down and starting to read the book she had picked out. She opened the book and saw that it was written in one of the several languages used in Galic that she did not know yet. She groaned in annoyance. This was going to take more work than she thought. She flipped through it and she took solace because it was a book for children that came with many full-page illustrations. She felt like an idiot trying to sound out words in a partially different alphabet. But no expert was never an unskilled beginner after all.


    Time blurred as she tried to read before being yanked from focus when Rebecca knocked on the frame of the door. She walked in and said, ¡°I just got word from the seamstress, she made the requested changes and is waiting in your room.¡±


    Remembering the wedding, Regina¡¯s face tensed up in an involuntary frown. She followed Rebecca back up the stairs to her room. When she arrived, the seamstress and her assistant were already waiting. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to make you wait,¡± Regina said.


    ¡°It¡¯s no worry at all; I¡¯m just glad to be able to help. It¡¯s an honor to be your seamstress on such a momentous occasion,¡± the seamstress replied. Regina was made uncomfortable again by the reminder of the reality of her situation.


    ¡°Here you are, Princess,¡± the seamstress said. ¡°I hope it meets your satisfaction.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be lovely,¡± Regina said in reply.


    ¡°The chamberlain will be by shortly to take you to the ceremony,¡± the seamstress said. ¡°Do you need any help doing your hair or makeup? Rebecca can assist you with that if you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Regina said, self-consciously touching her face. ¡°We, uh, we don¡¯t usually wear any makeup in Rashil. I usually wear my hair in this braid too. I can change it if you need it for some ceremonial thing though.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, don¡¯t worry about it then,¡± the seamstress said cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯m sure your natural beauty will make you shine like the moon.¡±


    The seamstress, her assistant, and Rebecca all left and Regina closed the door behind them. She held the dress in her hands and sighed. She thought she might as well get changed now. After she had changed it fit much better and with the bust let out she could breathe freely. She took the book she had selected and began to read it on the bed while she waited. It was interesting, if a bit dry. She lost track of time again, and soon the sun was setting.


    There was a knock at the door. The chamberlain spoke through the door. ¡°Excuse me, Princess? Are you decent?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can come in, Danz.¡±


    The chamberlain opened the door and walked into the room. He looked her up and down. Regina shuffled uncomfortably. ¡°You look absolutely resplendent!¡± He said with sincerity in his tone.


    ¡°T-Thank you . . .¡± she answered, not sure what to say.


    ¡°Well, the ceremony is due to start soon. Are you ready?¡± Danz asked.


    ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be,¡± she replied. She took a deep breath.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s be on our way,¡± he said, gesturing for her to follow him.


    To her surprise, rather than leading her toward the throne room, he led her outside to the garden. The sun had set and twilight purple skies faded to black night. Darkness was cast back by the glowing full moon hung high in the sky, lighting the garden. Standing around the garden were various people dressed in formal finery who were obviously local nobles, along with some musicians holding some string instruments she didn¡¯t recognize. It looked like a violin, as if it had eaten every other violin in the orchestra and then came back for a second helping.


    The nobles noticed her walk into the garden and each gave her a curt nod or bow. ¡°Why are we in the garden?¡± she asked under her breath to Danz.


    ¡°Well, normally state weddings are held in the throne room. But the king mentioned you were very nervous about it. So, he had the venue moved to a smaller space.¡± Regina smiled to herself. ¡°The nobles that got cut from the audience are understandably angry, but the king will simply give a toast to their graciousness and it¡¯ll blow over.¡±


    ¡°That was very considerate of him,¡± Regina said.


    ¡°Indeed. They will still be at the feast. Their annoyance will pass,¡± Danz replied. He led her to one side of the garden and positioned her under a wooden arch inlaid with flowers that hadn¡¯t been there when she saw the garden earlier. ¡°Wait here, the king will arrive in a minute and then we can begin.¡±


    Regina stood awkwardly under the arch and looked around. All around the garden, nobles were talking among themselves and occasionally casting inspecting glances at her. She could tell they were talking about her but couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying and she squirmed uncomfortably. Regina calmed herself by looking around the garden at all the different plants. Many of them were foreign to her, and she thought back to the potted flower her mother had given her before she left.


    Musicians played a fanfare as the king exited the keep and walked into the garden. The crowd turned their attention from Regina to him. He was wearing a similar blue-green suit with gold trim. He smiled at her as several of the nobles came up to greet him. After a brief conversation, he dismissed them, and they went back to their assigned places in the crowd.


    He walked up the carpeted path they had laid in the garden, which was really just a gap in the planted herbs. The musicians played a tune similar to the wedding march she was familiar with. But in a different key and with different instruments. ¡°You look great,¡± he said softly so no one else could hear.


    ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty,¡± she blushed slightly. ¡°So do you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, this old thing?¡± he looked down at his suit. ¡°It¡¯s nothing special. A hand-me-down from my father. Though one infrequently worn, granted.¡±


    The clergyman walked up. He was quite old and wore a simple blue robe tied by a rope cord around the waist. And suddenly it hit Regina¡ªshe was going to be married into a different religion. There was no Patriarchal priest or representative there. She suddenly felt very nervous and very relieved at the same time.


    ¡°Are we ready to begin?¡± the priest asked. The king looked at Regina expectantly. Her mouth went dry, so she just nodded her head. ¡°Very good, then let¡¯s get started. Lords and ladies, if you would please take your places,¡± the priest spoke up, addressing the crowd. The low murmur of the assembled crowd faded away as they all faced forward and stopped talking.


    The priest cleared his throat. ¡°As the Prophet Shah-lan said,¡± he began. Then he said some stuff about the work of the divine in the realms of man and quoted some scripture she didn¡¯t know. Eventually, he got to a part she recognized. ¡°King Stewart of Galic, do you promise to treat Princess Regina with love, honor, and respect?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± the king replied.


    ¡°And do you, Princess Regina of Rashil, promise to treat King Stewart with love, honor, and respect?¡±


    Regina¡¯s mouth went dry again. ¡°Yes.¡± She paused briefly before continuing, ¡°I mean, I do,¡± she answered nervously. The king reached his hand over to hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She felt a little better.


    From inside his robes, the priest pulled a large dagger and a small clay bowl. ¡°If the couple would present their hands, please?¡± Regina¡¯s eyes went wide at the sight of the dagger.


    ¡°It¡¯s ok, it¡¯s just a little prick of the heart finger,¡± the king whispered to her. ¡°See?¡± He held his hand out first, palm up. The priest carefully took the dagger and poked the end of the king¡¯s fourth finger. A small well of blood formed on his finger. He took his hand and turned it over the bowl. A few drops of blood dropped into it and the king took his hand back and squeezed the small wound shut. ¡°Now you,¡± he said.


    Nervously, she extended her hand, palm up. The priest didn¡¯t even look at her before he pricked her. It didn¡¯t really hurt much; the anticipation was worse than the pain. She turned her hand over the bowl and let a few drops drip in and mix with the king¡¯s. The priest handed her a small white cloth to stop the bleeding as he took the bowl from her. He swirled the cup, fully incorporating the two sources of blood, and placed the bowl on the ground between them.


    The king raised one foot in the air. ¡°Ready? No going back after this,¡± he asked. Regina swallowed and nodded her head. ¡°Follow my lead.¡± She raised one foot as well. The king then stomped on the bowl, shattering it into tiny pieces. He pulled his foot away and Regina stomped the remains, turning the leftover shards into a fine powder.


    The priest put his hands on both of their shoulders and turned them around to face the crowd. ¡°It is with great pleasure that I present to those gathered here, King Stewart and Queen Regina of Galic.¡±


    And like that, Regina was a married woman.


    The assembled crowd erupted softly in cheers and congratulations. The high mountains of Galic are prone to avalanches, and while most of them usually remained stable, disaster can be invoked by as little as a shout or a round of applause. As such, the people of Galic have taken to a much quieter snapping to indicate their approval, as clapping is considered to be bad luck.


    Their round of snapping applause continued as the king took Regina¡¯s hand in his and led her back down the ¡°aisle¡± of the garden. In the back, she saw Rebecca and Danz smiling and snapping along with the nobles. She averted her gaze from the cheering onlookers and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.


    Once fully processed through the crowd King Stewart said, ¡°Now that that¡¯s out of the way, who¡¯s ready to party?!¡± The crowd cheered/snapped again and they all walked inside. Inside the throne room, a large array of tables had been set up. The slighted nobles who could not attend were already seated. They looked displeased, but when the wedding party approached, they all stood and snapped their fingers as well. Together, Regina and Stewart sat at a special table for just the two of them near the throne.


    Almost before they sat down, servants were upon them, bringing various roasted meats, cooked vegetables, and drinks. Regina noticed that the table was set with the fork on the left side rather than the right. Then she noticed that almost everyone in Galic seemed to be left-handed. She wondered why this was, but didn¡¯t ask. As they ate, a kingdoms worth of noblemen and women came up to their table one by one. Some offered congratulations, others brought gifts. Most of the gifts were some type of tool or preserved food, though she noticed that several of them were books.


    Most of the castle staff were clearly local to the region, but a man with a conspicuously large and bushy brown beard that he had pulled back around his neck and tied behind his head. He approached holding a large platter of steaming rice and vegetables. Regina unconsciously touched her long braid hanging on her shoulder at the sight of the ornate facial hair. The man placed the food gently on the table and looked to King Stewart, who rubbed his hands and eyed it hungrily.


    ¡°Thank you, Three B, it looks delicious as always,¡± Stewart said as the food was placed in front of him. He turned his head to speak to Regina. ¡°Regina, this is our chef, Three B. He makes some of the best food I have ever had. If there is anything you want, I am sure he can make it.¡±


    Regina cocked her head sideways slightly in confusion. ¡°Three B? Is that a nickname?¡±


    Three B smiled broadly and spoke with practiced grammar, but a very thick accent, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. My given name is Bariculus Boni Bonif and I am a Rustang immigrant to Galic. We evacuated after the Great Eviction Rashil ordered. I was able to find humble employment with my liege¡¯s kitchens. But my name is not so easy for them to say.¡± He twisted a bit of his bushy beard in his fingers and gave a hearty laugh. ¡°I like it, it makes me feel like I did back home.¡± The mention of Rashil¡¯s military conquests always made Regina uncomfortable, but Three B¡¯s amiable expression showed no hint of malice or resentment.


    Stewart added, ¡°Don¡¯t let his humility fool you. This man has the most amazing recipes I have ever tasted and he never ceases to amaze me. I shall have to show you some of my favorites.


    ¡°Anything Your Majesty desires, I am happy to attempt,¡± Three B said as he bowed in respect and turned to Regina. ¡°Is there anything I may bring you? Either now or tomorrow?¡±


    Regina looked down at the large platter of food he had placed in front of them and shook her head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. I expect I will be unable to eat that much more anyway.¡±


    Three B dipped his head low and said, ¡°Of course. If you change your mind, let me know and I shall see it done.¡±


    Several hours passed like this as the servants brought more and more food. Spiced meat pies, cakes, fruit tarts, and many more all were brought to the royal table first before being distributed to the other guests.


    Regina thought the food was good, really good. ¡°Is this how you always eat, my lord?¡± she asked King Stewart.


    ¡°No, this is a special occasion obviously. But if there¡¯s anything you especially like, I¡¯ll ensure it¡¯s a regular of the kitchen,¡± he replied. The party started to wind down as guests had their fill or got drunk. Regina only drank enough to calm her overactive nerves and Stewart seemed to match this. Though because of her long journey and the attractive smell of the food, she had more than plenty to eat.


    The king stood and gestured for the crowd to quiet down. It took a moment, but the room went silent save for the occasional cry from one of the children up past their bedtime in attendance. The king announced with a raised voice, ¡°I want to take a moment to thank you all for coming to our special day. It means a lot, especially given how far some of you had to travel.¡± The crowd snapped in appreciation. ¡°But. I think it¡¯s time for us to retire, my lords and ladies.¡±


    This was met with cheers and snaps. Regina even heard a few shouts of ¡°Go get her, Your Majesty!¡± and other less repeatable phrases. Regina attempted to summarily die of embarrassment but was thwarted by the sudden warmth of her new husband as he took her hand in his. She looked up from their hands into his ice blue eyes. He said something but she couldn¡¯t hear over the roar of the crowd and her heartbeat. He pulled on her hand for her to stand and she did without resistance. The light touch of his other hand sent small nervous tremors from the small of her back as she was pulled away. He took her by the hand and together they walked up the stairs to their chambers.


    The door to the room was made of ashen black wood inlaid with an intricate gold pattern that melted from the center in a spiderweb pattern to the edges that fit well into the frame. It was clearly very heavy, but Stewart opened the door for her easily and she stepped in, more anxious than she had ever been. He closed the door behind them with a pulse stopping click as it slotted into the frame and locked.


    Regina stood in the middle of the room awkwardly and looked over to the bed. ¡°So, did you have fun at least?¡± the king asked.


    Regina was so nervous she couldn¡¯t speak, so she just nodded her head in agreement. She slipped one shoulder of the dress off her. ¡°Woah, hold on there,¡± The king said as she began to disrobe. ¡°Look, I know this isn¡¯t ideal, but you don¡¯t have to do anything you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    She took a deep breath. ¡°N-No, Your Majesty,¡± she stammered doing her best to not throw up the emotional hurricane in her guts. ¡°I know my duty,¡± she continued as she looked away. ¡°It¡¯s my job to provide an heir. I may be young, but I¡¯m not ignorant of how that works.¡±


    He frowned at her sympathetically. ¡°I know that. But I won¡¯t force myself on you the first night we¡¯re together. I won¡¯t start our relationship that way.¡± He sighed. ¡°Plus, I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t anxious myself.¡±


    Regina would not be the first Stewart had taken to bed. But she was the first one that could be said to feel anything less than enthusiastic consent, and the first to whom he would be irrevocably bound. ¡°We¡¯ll have to sleep here, to keep up appearances, of course. But what happens in our bedroom is no one¡¯s business but ours,¡± the king said.


    Tears welled up in Regina¡¯s eyes as the stress of the last week fell on her all at once. She failed to suppress a whimper and she turned away from Stewart. He walked up behind her and placed one hand on her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did I say something wrong?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she sniffled. ¡°It¡¯s just, I¡¯m so overwhelmed by this. I¡¯m alone, separated from my family, and this isn¡¯t going at all as I expected. You¡¯re so nice and I¡¯m so . . . disappointing . . .¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± the king answered. ¡°I don¡¯t expect this to help your feelings tonight, but I¡¯m your family now. As long as I live, you¡¯ll never be alone.¡±


    Regina turned to face Stewart and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her tears had dampened her dress. She self-consciously felt like a hot mess. He looked down at her and smiled warmly, ¡°You really are beautiful you know.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel beautiful . . .¡± she said back, water still pooling in her eyes.


    ¡°Well, you are,¡± he said in reply. A moment passed in silence. ¡°May I kiss you?¡± he asked.


    She froze. Long enough that Stewart was about to pull away,. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to speak and only nodded. Stewart put one arm around her waist and one on her chin. He pulled her close to him and tilted her head up to look him in the eye. She looked at him, he looked at her. He leaned in close and put his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and felt his lips touch hers. His beard was scratchy, but not unpleasant.


    He released her and she stepped back. ¡°See? That wasn¡¯t so bad, right?¡±


    She shook her head and touched her now-moist lips, ¡°No, Your Majesty, not at all.¡± She even smiled a bit, thinking about the kiss.


    ¡°See? Baby steps. We don¡¯t have to do everything all at once. There will be plenty of time for heir-making later,¡± he said. ¡°While we¡¯re at it, cut out the ¡®Your Majesty¡¯ stuff. I¡¯m your husband, not your monarch or master. Call me Stewart. Think you can do that?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Maj¡ª¡± she stopped herself. ¡°Yes, Stewart.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°You packed nightclothes, I assume?¡± She nodded. ¡°I heard from the seamstress that you prefer to change privately. I can¡¯t leave, but I¡¯ll turn around while you get changed. Just tell me when you¡¯re done. I don¡¯t want to stare at the wall all night!¡± he laughed and turned around.


    She did and said he could turn around. He turned and froze when he saw her. While not immodest, they were gossamer silk robe that was quite a bit more revealing than either her regular clothes or the wedding dress. It clung to her waist and hips pulled tight by one hand in an involuntary fear clenched fist. Her long two- toned color shifting hair rested on one shoulder in a braid that mixed with the candlelight into a field of auburn luster and burnt orange ombr¨¦ hues. ¡°Wow,¡± he said, ¡°I know I said you¡¯re beautiful like three times already but, again, wow.¡±


    She flushed and looked down. ¡°Thank you.¡± Her fist finally unclenched and the released fabric rippled like water from a stream of mountain snow in the first melt of spring as it flowed over her hips and between the legs beneath them.


    Stewart¡¯s eyes swam down the current, involuntary and lascivious. With great effort he pulled himself from her rapids and took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m going to get changed now too,¡± he said as he walked over the chest to retrieve his nightclothes. ¡°You can look, or don¡¯t, I¡¯m not bothered by it. Ideally you will see it all anyway.¡±


    Regina felt it more ideal with each moment but turned away while he changed. She snuck a peek at him with his shirt off while he was not looking. She noticed the smooth curve of his shoulder muscles as he raised his arm to fit into his shirt. He was surprisingly well-muscled for a man living a life of leisure as a king, and Regina¡¯s pulse quickened ideally.


    ¡°Ok, done,¡± Stewart said, and Regina turned back around. He gestured to the bed, and she slid between the cool sheets. The king slowly prowled around the room, slaying each mote of flame most masculinely with his mighty breath.


    Regina couldn¡¯t see Stewart in the dark, but felt him pull a blanket off the bed. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw him sitting on one of the couches. ¡°You don¡¯t have to sleep on the couch, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°But baby steps, remember?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± she answered. ¡°Baby steps.¡± She lay down in the bed and snuggled in tight as the sheets began to warm against the cold of the night. She thought a lot as she lay there. Eventually, Stewart began to softly snore on the couch, which was surprisingly comforting. She drifted off to sleep. For the first time in a week, she didn¡¯t dream of home.

 Chapter Six: The Priest and the Unpopular

    Chapter Six: The Priest and the Unpopular


    Reginald walked up the steps of the temple complex in the palace district. He was wearing the white robes of the acolytes that they had sent to his house for his first day in training.


    The temple complex was as busy as it was sprawling. In the middle of the palace district, it surrounded the massive cathedral. It was large enough to contain classrooms alongside courtrooms and the largest liturgical library in all of creation. He looked around as he reached the top of the stairs where the complex plateaued. He had been here regularly before, but always as an attendee rather than a clergyman. With this new perspective, he noticed for the first time the consistent architectural design principles. The colossal ancient stone structures tended to feature spires of some kind, even if they were solely decorative. The roofs were angled to converge at a single point at the top, making them appear taller than they really were from the ground.


    Students and priests swirled in all directions. He crossed the yard, deftly weaving between the crowd of people trying to get to their destinations.


    He looked up at the large spiral towers supported by buttresses that hung off various sides of the cathedral. The cathedral had large stained-glass windows covering most of the exterior walls. The large front doors were made of wood with silver filigreed frames. They had been left open he smelled the intense pungency of incense in the air from street. Smoke crawled through the cathedral air, but apart from the braziers at the front of the cathedral, it rose smoothly because of the lack of airflow in the massive stone building.


    The building itself was huge in scale, rivaled only by the Patriarch¡¯s keep. It was constructed with exactly one purpose in mind¡ªto remind those in attendance that the Patriarch was God. The front half of the building was made of many rows of cushioned benches that ran the whole width of the massive room. About halfway in, the ground began to rise in a sort of staircase that formed into a wedge pyramid shape that formed an ever-higher set of steps stacked on the side of the closest caskets.


    The inner pyramid of the cathedral that served as the Patriarch¡¯s throne was build of the caskets of the God¡¯s former hosts. Most regent¡¯s thrones were designed to be resplendent and intimidating, but usually at least practical to hold court in. The throne¡¯s extremely steep angle made it nearly impossible to see anyone at the top, and Reginald was certain that it would be impossible for anyone up there to hear a sermon delivered below. Reginald had never actually seen the chair up close because it was extremely illegal and sacrilegious to even approach unless you were senior clergy. Though he had heard of how intricate and detailed the carving was on the chair that by all reports was both gigantic, as well as made of solid gold.


    Reginald pondered how they could move what had to be literal tons of gold up so high without damaging either the chair or the caskets. He was pulled from his speculation as the crowd murmured a bit louder and turned. Coming straight for him was a cadre of the senior priests dressed in black robes. He moved to get out of the way, but they stopped when they came to him. The group of priests parted, and a familiar face appeared, the only one without pitch-black eyes created from possessing their children in sequence for centuries. In a similar black robe but with silver trim, the high priest approached him.


    ¡°Reginald!¡± the high priest exclaimed. ¡°Good to see you, lad.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Uncle Paul,¡± Reginald replied.


    ¡°Ah, ah,¡± the high priest corrected. ¡°You¡¯re an acolyte now, that¡¯s ¡®High Priest¡¯ for as long as you¡¯re on temple grounds.¡± He smirked conspiratorially and leaned in to whisper, ¡°But on feast days, Uncle Paul does just fine.¡± Paul leaned back in a relaxed posture and the senior priests reacted as one as if to give him just the right amount of space to keep him comfortable, but still close enough to be able to brownnose. ¡°How¡¯s your father? Good, I hope.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s ok, uh, High Priest.¡± His uncle nodded approvingly. ¡°He¡¯s mostly sad that Regina is gone honestly.¡±


    Paul¡¯s face shifted to appear sympathetic. ¡°Oh, I know,¡± he said. ¡°Every time one of my daughters is married off it tears me up. When we lost our brothers on the same day though . . . It breaks my heart. But we all have our duties and roles to play.¡±


    ¡°But you have almost a dozen children, my father only has two.¡±


    The high priest sighed. ¡°The Patriarch works in mysterious ways. You must trust that things will work out for the best, in the end.¡±


    A muffled grunt is all Reginald offered in reply.


    Reginald¡¯s uncle clapped him on the back. ¡°Come my boy, let me show you around, give you the full tour.¡±


    ¡°Do you really have time for that?¡± Reginald asked. ¡°You are the high priest after all, I imagine you have better things to do than escort a simple acolyte around. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m supposed to go to class anyway.¡±


    ¡°Bah!¡± Paul waved his hand. ¡°This class of acolytes started weeks ago, so you¡¯re already behind, what¡¯s one more day?¡± Reginald shrugged. ¡°Plus, I¡¯m the high priest, I tell THEM what to do. Isn¡¯t that right, boys?¡± He looked behind him to the group of patiently looming black clad clergy.


    A reflexive rehearsed refrain harmonized and echoed in the crypt with notes of ¡°Oh yes¡± and ¡°Of course, High Priest¡± from the group.


    ¡°Sycophantic hierophants, the whole lot of them . . .¡± he said and rolled his eyes. ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s get started. I know I don¡¯t need to show you around the cathedral, but have you ever been to the top of one of the spires? You can see the whole city from up there.¡±


    Reginald swallowed nervously. He had never liked heights. He couldn¡¯t say why, but it gave him anxiety every time he approached a significant precipice. ¡°No, I can¡¯t say I have . . .¡±


    ¡°Well, now you will! Come on, I¡¯ll show you,¡± the high priest replied and began to walk off. Reginald reluctantly followed. They were both trailed by the group of priests. They walked all the way through the cathedral, past the pulpit and altar, further into the cathedral than Reginald had ever been. They reached the far end and Paul moved a wooden facade away from the wall. Behind it was a spiral stairway that led up into one of the spires. ¡°After you,¡± he said and gestured to the stairs.


    Reginald took a hard swallow and began to climb. The stairwell was very narrow and lit only by the intermittent small slit in the wall. Reginald quickly was out of breath and being in front he couldn¡¯t just stop. He had to keep going. At last a big blast of light washed over him as he steps up the last steps.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Relieved to be done Reginald leaned against the door frame once outside and took several deep breaths before opening his eyes to see his worst nightmare. Even more stairs. They were on one of the lower tier roofs that was very high up, but only half as much as the spires could go. There was a small metal handrail along the edge and Reginald threw himself at it.


    ¡°Ahhhh,¡± the high priest said as he stepped out onto the roof. ¡°Smell that fresh, clean air?¡± Reginald suppressed the panic welling inside him each time the wind gusted again chilling him and sending his robe flapping. Paul continued, ¡°Up here, away from the smell and pollution of the city . . . It¡¯s just, refreshing.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Reginald replied, not letting go of the railing.


    ¡°So that¡¯s the dormitory,¡± the high priest gestured beneath him. ¡°Over there are the classrooms and library. Over there is the palace, of course.¡±


    Reginald looked up from the railing toward the palace. The keep tower reached even higher and stood as a colossal testament of the power and Godhood of the Patriarch. He observed the city from this new high vantage point. The thin spinnerets incapable of holding more than a candle and the steep sloping roof that served only to increase the perceived vastness of scale looked ridiculous from where he stood. He would have chuckled at the comic absurdity of the design if it weren¡¯t for his fear of heights. They undoubtedly were a huge hassle to build, and they were clearly designed to impress from below, not above.


    ¡°And if you look way over there,¡± he said, gesturing to the center of town, ¡°you can make out the market square in the lower city.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Reginald said curtly.


    The high priest looked over to Reginald. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked, finally noticing his tension.


    ¡°I-I just really don¡¯t like heights,¡± Reginald said. The wind Gusted and Reginald clenched his teeth.


    ¡°Oh, sorry, I didn¡¯t know.¡± The high priest became Uncle Paul for a moment. ¡°We can go down now.¡±


    Reginald ground his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. ¡°Yep! Sounds GREAT!¡± Reginald shouted into the wind. Together they descended the stairs, and when they reached the bottom, Reginald took several big, heaving breaths to calm himself.


    ¡°Sorry again, man, I didn¡¯t mean to stress you out.¡±


    Reginald took another deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s ok, you didn¡¯t know. I¡¯m just weird.¡±


    ¡°You know what¡¯d help with that? Getting you laid.¡± The high priest gave a nudge to Reginald¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You don¡¯t normally get access to the harem until you¡¯re rocking a gray robe. But hey, you do know the high priest after all.¡±


    Repulsed by the idea, Reginald tried and mostly succeeded in suppressing the sneer on his face. ¡°Thanks, but I think I¡¯m ok.¡±


    ¡°You sure? The earlier you get started, the sooner you have a good heir. You don¡¯t want to take over the body of a baby, do ya?¡± Paul playfully gibed Reginald. ¡°Well, not that you can until they¡¯re much older, but all the more reason to start early.¡±


    ¡°No, not really,¡± Reginald replied, not really wanting to take over anyone¡¯s body, much less a theoretical son¡¯s.


    ¡°Great, then it¡¯s settled. I¡¯ll make sure the proper paperwork gets done. And hey, some advice: Don¡¯t fixate too much on one girl, spread it around a little, ya know?¡±


    ¡°Yeah . . .¡± Reginald trailed off, still repulsed.


    ¡°The others are looking at me like I¡¯ve murdered someone, so I should probably go do some actual priestly stuff,¡± the high priest said. ¡°But your class should be studying in their classroom by now. And hey, don¡¯t stress too much about your grades. They¡¯ll know you¡¯re behind. Plus, you literally can¡¯t fail. You do know the high priest after all.¡± He winked at Reginald as he turned to walk away and rejoin the cabal of priests in black.


    Reginald watched them go and collected himself. He suppressed a shudder at the idea of visiting the harem. He wished he could find a way out of that. The idea of selecting a woman, much less several, to bed made him cringe. Clearing his mind, he left to the library classrooms.


    Reginald walked into the class while the teacher was mid-sentence and gesturing at the board at the front of the room. ¡°Ah, hello. Can I help you?¡± the teacher asked. The teacher was wearing a dark gray robe. He was bald, pudgy without being overly fat, and he had a big gray mustache like their sparring instructor.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said as his voice cracked. ¡°I¡¯m Reginald Thurblood, I¡¯m a late addition to the class. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late today.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± the teacher leaned back in consideration. ¡°They told me we would have a new student today. They didn¡¯t tell me he¡¯d be a direct descendant of the royal line,¡± he said, gesturing to Reginald¡¯s tied back two-toned hair.


    Reginald averted his gaze and touched his hair self-consciously. ¡°I¡ªyeah,¡± he said, not adding anything to the conversation.


    ¡°Have a seat. We have extra books for you in the library. Today, you can share. Grab a chair from the front and sit next to someone,¡± the teacher said as he gestured to the chairs.


    Reginald looked out over the sea of students¡¯ faces. Their unimpressed wan countenances stacked into an unusually judgmental stone wall. He tensed up as he walked down the aisle toward the back, conscious of the eyes on him. He selected a desk with a student that at least didn¡¯t look openly hostile and grabbed a nearby chair. The other student scooted wordlessly over to give him some space.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Reginald said, appreciating the gesture.


    ¡°Sure,¡± the young man said in a tone that didn¡¯t invite further conversation.


    The teacher began again. ¡°Where was I?¡± he said, looking at the board. ¡°Oh yes, so today we will be continuing a very important piece of scripture: the Patriarch¡¯s fifteen commandments and how they interact with each other. Now, commandment seven . . .¡± Reginald went cross-eyed at the repeated lecture he had heard many times before.


    Reciting all fifteen commandments at length, the class began to discuss the theological ramifications of one commandment conflicting with another. No real progress was made, but it rarely ever is in theological debates. As the class finished and they were dismissed for the day, Reginald tried to get to know some of his classmates as they gathered their supplies to leave. Most of them barely acknowledged him or said anything at all. Even his desk mate barely gave Reginald his name. Soon he stood alone in the class with the teacher packing his supplies away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them bother you,¡± the teacher said. ¡°They see your position and privilege as a threat to their status.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no threat to them,¡± Reginald said dejectedly.


    ¡°Ah, but you are,¡± the teacher replied, wagging one finger in the air. Reginald raised an eyebrow and looked at him questioningly. ¡°I know you may not be used to the idea yet, but you could be the high priest someday. You could be high priest tomorrow with a single well-placed bomb¡ªPatriarch forbid.¡±


    ¡°But I probably won¡¯t be, and even if I am, why does that make me a threat?¡± Reginald asked with a hint of pleading in his voice.


    ¡°Because you can END them. Their livelihood, their futures, their hopes, their dreams. They all exist because of your good graces. Even now, do you really think that if you told your uncle that you had a problem with one of the students, that the student would even make it another day untouched? In the best-case, you hold him back from advancement in the church. Worst case, he¡¯s tossed out ass-first and with no other profession to fall back on.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that!¡± Reginald protested.


    ¡°And that¡¯s very honorable of you. They don¡¯t know that. To them, you¡¯re a new student who got put into advanced classes that they had to work hard to get into, solely by virtue of your family ties.¡±


    ¡°But that isn¡¯t what happened . . .¡± Reginald said.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? You mean to tell me you did so well on the placement exam you took earlier this week that the review board just decided to move you into the advanced class with no prior education beyond primary school?¡±


    ¡°Well. I . . .¡± Reginald thought for a second. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t do that to me. Would they?¡±


    ¡°They would. And they did,¡± the teacher replied deadpan. Reginald staggered back a step in shock. ¡°Welcome to the life of the rich and powerful, kid.¡±


    ¡°How do you know all this?¡± Reginald asked the teacher.


    ¡°Because it happened to me too.¡± Reginald cocked his head sideways in question. ¡°I was the current Patriarch¡¯s host¡¯s cousin I was the second son of the Patriarch¡¯s fourth son. I never had a realistic chance at becoming high priest, but I still was kin and I used my influence to advance my own personal ends. I¡¯m not proud of it; that¡¯s why I shave my head. If I let it grow, what parts aren¡¯t gray would be black and red.¡±


    ¡°My father was the fourth son too . . .¡± Reginald said with a tinge of sadness in his voice.


    ¡°Mhm, yes. I heard about that, tragic really. But now he¡¯s the second son, and with that, you are one unfortunate death away from attaining everything your classmates hope to achieve. Now ask yourself, how would you feel if the situation was reversed?¡±


    ¡°Pretty upset, I guess. But they didn¡¯t even give me a chance,¡± Reginald said dejectedly.


    ¡°Welcome to the life of the rich and powerful, kid,¡± the teacher repeated. He picked up his bags and walked out of the classroom, leaving Reginald alone with his thoughts.

 Chapter Seven: Manly and Impulsive

    Chapter Seven: Manly and Impulsive


    Chance fidgeted with his telescoping staff idly, at rest with the rest of his platoon. All last night, the soldiers in his platoon came to him for judgments on Gathering the Magic. They had all gone through their basic training together, so when Chance had shown the game to one of the other soldiers, he told another, who then told two more. Cardboard card game compound interest adds up quick.


    This process continued until essentially everyone at their original training camp would pester him constantly, asking for help understanding the rules or making cards. He would show them the cards that Regina had illustrated and he found himself the target of no small amount of envy.


    Sleep deprivation followed by the long march from training to the front line had taken a severe toll on Chance¡¯s attentiveness. He just hoped he would get to take a nap soon. They hadn¡¯t eaten yet and Chance¡¯s stomach growled in protest.


    Mundane soldiers played as well, but just for fun. Chance stood apart and simply watched. The two groups didn¡¯t get along very well, except on the battlefield. The magical soldiers generally thought themselves better than the mundane. The mundane soldiers knew this and resented the attitude. Chance did think that as a gifted soldier he was more valuable tactically, but he didn¡¯t think his life was any more valuable at least. They had just as many mothers as he did after all.


    Two women approached from the center of the camp. Even from a distance, he could see the red epaulets that signified that they were commissioned officers. Rashilian society is quite stratified by gender. But the military, strangely, was the one notable exception to this rule. The women¡¯s utility outweighed any misogyny transmitted from the culture at large. The older of the two officers was even taller than Chance, and she had the long blond-brown two-toned hair of the royal line, but in a bun behind her head. The younger woman had her red hair cut short.


    Chance turned back to face the troops. ¡°Platoon, ten-shun!¡± he shouted. The assembled crowds scattered and they all fell into lines ten across and four deep, organized according to prearranged squad groups of four apiece.


    The senior officer bellowed, ¡°Good morning, cadets. Or should I say, good morning, soldiers!¡± The platoon had been well trained by their master chief back in their orientation training, so they stood unmoving. ¡°It¡¯s ok, soldiers, you can cheer at that.¡± An enthusiastic if very tired Chance joined the chorus of cheers that erupted in a wave. They were given only a movent before the officer raised her hand to tell them to quiet down. She spoke again. ¡°I am Commander Jass; I am the officer in charge of this whole operation. If you screw up, it¡¯s me who looks bad, and I DON¡¯T like looking bad.¡± She gestured to the woman standing beside her. ¡°This is Lieutenant Perry; she¡¯ll be your platoon commander. She doesn¡¯t like to look bad either.¡± Lieutenant Perry gave a small wave. ¡°Which of you is the platoon sergeant?¡±


    Chance stepped forward a rank. ¡°That would be me, ma¡¯am.¡±


    The commander walked over to stand in front of him and eyed him up and down. ¡°What¡¯s your name, soldier?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Chance Alloway, ma¡¯am,¡± Chance said with a clipped tone.


    She raised one eyebrow. ¡°You related to General Alloway?¡±


    Chance nodded. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am, he¡¯s my father.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll expect great things from you then. General Alloway is one of the best mundane commanders in the army¡¯s history.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    She went to walk away but then turned back. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, why did you enlist and not go through the academy to become an officer?¡± the commander asked bluntly.


    ¡°I¡ªuh, I just had something I wanted to get away from. Ma¡¯am. I . . .¡±


    She raised one hand to quiet him. ¡°Say no more, we¡¯ve all had to get away from something in our past. Well, we¡¯re glad to have you. Fall back in, Sergeant.¡± Chance simply nodded in response and stepped back into line. The commander cleared her throat. ¡°Your first weeks in camp we would normally assign you to guard duty or scut work, but we find ourselves in an interesting situation. We¡¯re here primarily to support the army of the Patriarchal vassal state, Jeranin, as they will do most of the heavy lifting, but the Rustang army has withdrawn most of its troops from the pass through the mountains.¡±


    The troops murmured in response. Chance thumped his staff on the ground and gave them all a severe stare. They quieted. ¡°This presents us with a unique opportunity. The pass is still well fortified with the soldiers they left behind, trying to take it conventionally would have an unacceptable level of casualties.


    The Jeranese Army obviously does not have an Army Corps of Magic and Spellcraft as we doand have requested our help in securing the pass. I have decided to provide the support of the magical division, however, our First and Second Brigades are off on maneuvers some distance away. We don¡¯t know how long this opportunity will last, command has decided we will move on them now. That brings me to you soldiers,¡± the commander announced. ¡°I¡¯ll let your lieutenant tell you.¡±


    Lieutenant Perry stepped forward and started to speak. She had meadow green eyes and a nose that looked too small for her face. Her voice was higher than the comparatively gruff commander, but she still spoke with practiced authority. ¡°We¡¯re to be attached to the Third Brigade. With their veteran troops, we¡¯re to form the right flank that leads the way for the Jeranese forces. I know this will probably be your first real taste of combat.¡± The assembled soldiers mumbled among themselves. Chance thumped his staff again but didn¡¯t turn around and they quieted.


    ¡°Thank you, Sergeant,¡± Lieutenant Perry gave a lingering glance to Chance. ¡°As I was saying, since it will be your first action, I want to reiterate that war is not about gallantry or thrilling heroics. Stay in cover, stay behind your designated sorceress when you can, and only advance when ordered. The goal isn¡¯t to die for your country, it¡¯s to make the other poor bastard die for theirs.¡± Commander Jass smirked a bit, but Lieutenant Perry¡¯s face was deadly serious.


    ¡°If you die, it reflects poorly on your sergeant and me, so no one has permission to die. If you do, I¡¯ll kill you myself.¡± Lieutenant Perry smirked a little herself now too. ¡°We move out mid-afternoon, so you now have some time to prep your weapons and grab some chow. Take a nap, or for those magically inclined, take the opportunity to store up some additional luck. Fall in at the north side of the camp in six hours. I will NOT tolerate tardiness.¡± The lieutenant looked at all the soldiers gathered one more time. ¡°Can I get a boo-yah, soldiers?¡±


    ¡°BOO-YAH!¡± The platoon shouted in unison.


    ¡°DIS-Missed!¡± the lieutenant shouted. The platoon began to chatter and dispersed. Chance went to go get some food, but was stopped by the lieutenant. ¡°Hold sergeant, I¡¯d like to ask something.¡±


    ¡°Of course, ma¡¯am,¡± Chance replied.


    She crooked her finger in a ¡°come hither¡± gesture and turned to walk away from the still-assembled platoon. Once they were off behind a tent she stopped. ¡°What can I do for you, ma¡¯am?¡± Chance asked.


    ¡°Tell me honestly, do I have your complete confidence?¡± the lieutenant asked. She averted her gaze briefly from practiced deference. Her only slightly used but brightly polished boots unconsciously crushed the small gravel beneath them. Rippling cracks of unconscious anxiety hissed with each turn of the heel. Two heel turns later she forced her attention away from Pre-Academy Perry back to eye contact.


    ¡°My confidence? Well, ma¡¯am, permission to speak candidly?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡° I don¡¯t know you yet.¡± She looked at him with an expression he didn¡¯t recognize, so he was quick to add: ¡°Not that I don¡¯t think you¡¯re qualified, you clearly are. It¡¯s hard to trust someone you just met.¡±


    She nodded her head. ¡°I appreciate your honesty. I¡¯ll be straight with you; this is my first command of actual troops in the field. I need to know that my number two is behind me all the way.¡±


    ¡°Of course, ma¡¯am, I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way,¡± Chance replied confidently.


    ¡°Good, good, if I remember correctly your father was mundane, but you are not, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am, my mother was a third cousin of the Patriarch, so she was gifted. I have plenty of luck stored up. I play my game with the other soldiers every night that I can.¡±


    The lieutenant turned her head questioningly. ¡°Your game? What do you mean?¡±


    Chance went to try and explain, but hesitated and simply said, ¡°It¡¯s complicated. It¡¯s a card game I made that seems to be an excellent means of luck generation.¡±


    The lieutenant narrowed her eyes slightly. ¡°Well, I never had the advanced math classes you men do. But I would like to learn more about that.¡±


    Chance¡¯s semi-serious demeanor shifted to a smile. ¡°I would be happy to give you an introduction. Though I warn you, it is quite hard.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s good for us both that I like hard things.¡± Chance stifled his subconscious response into a cough and shook his head twice quickly. The lieutenant¡¯s eyes widened just a bit at the implication. More gravel crumbled to dust underfoot and Chances extendable staff. Letting out a conspicuous cough, she continued, ¡°Well. Uh, excellent then. Our platoon is on the right flank. I want you and your sorceress on my right. I¡¯ll lead from the center; I¡¯ll trust you to assign a good squad on my left flank. I plan for us to be the point of the bayonet that drives straight into the still-beating heart of the Rustang defense,¡± the lieutenant said. Chance blinked a bit at the graphic imagery.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it, Lieutenant.¡±


    ¡°Good, now go get some food, an army marches on its stomach after all.¡±


    Chance extended his fist forward in a salute. The lieutenant returned it and Chance marched away to eat and rest while the lieutenant headed off to another briefing. She found herself distracted, thinking about her new sergeant the whole time.


    #


    After a filling¡ªthough not delicious¡ªmeal, Chance returned to platoon¡¯s camp. Fortunately, he had enough time for a brief nap. When he woke up and stepped out of his tent, he saw his platoon getting ready for the battle. Chance joined them and helped the mundane soldiers prepare and load their rifles. Then he helped the sorcerers put on their heavy armor. The sorceresses didn¡¯t need any help, as they wore light leather padding rather than full armor. Last, he put on his own armor, though with the help of one of the mundane soldiers. Armed and armored, enthusiastic smiles on the faces, the recruits marched off to a bloodbath to be.


    Outside of the camp, you could see across the even plain that leads into the mountain pass. Finding their place on the right flank, the platoon stood at rest until Lieutenant Perry approached. Calling the troops to attention, Chance stood at the front of the platoon and greeted their commander.


    ¡°Everyone prepped and ready, Sergeant?¡± she asked.


    ¡°All present and accounted for, Lieutenant!¡± he snapped back in a professional and clipped tone. This earned him a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of a smile.


    ¡°Listen for the horn, it will give general battlefield guidance, but more than anything, listen to me, your sergeant, and your squad leaders. If we work together, this should be a glorious day for the Patriarch!¡±


    Almost as soon as she finished, the first horn blared long and loud. The march began. Held together in close ranks, the different platoons stood elbow to elbow, sorceresses in front, sorcerers behind them, then mundane soldiers in the back. The sorcerers carried various weapons such as staves, polearms, longswords, and even a few axes. They also typically carried a reserve flintlock single-shot pistol on their belts as a backup weapon. Sorceresses carried only a long dagger for personal defense in case the line was routed, and a similar, if smaller, pistol. Officers also carried a shortsword to demonstrate their rank and make their command gestures easier to see.


    The mundane soldiers in the back all had the same mass-produced breech-loaded rifles. Slow to reload, prone to misfires, and the occasional unfortunately face shattering explosive failures the rifle was a relic of several wars back. The calculated cost of new rifles outweighed the cost of a few friendly fire faces. They also all carried several pouches including spare ammo, powder, bandages, and a bayonet. All of whom were new, but made by the lowest bidder.


    They had almost entered shooting range when the commanders all down the line shouted, ¡°Shields up!¡± Together, the sorceresses raised one arm and focused their attention downrange. A shimmering wall appeared that moved in front of the army as the sorceresses advanced. The first shots were fired and the battle began.


    At first, it was a trickle, one shot after the other, but then they got organized and fired in volleys. A BANG echoed off the walls of the pass as thousands of rifles fired as one. They aimed well but when the bullets hit the shimmering wall, they would bend up into the sky, down into the ground, or careen off to the side into an unfortunate soldier several ranks away from the intended target..


    Then came the mortars. Chance had never seen one in use, as they were not used in Rashil. He could not deny their effectiveness. Shells came down behind the magic wall, exploding in a brilliant ball of fire and blasting shrapnel in all directions to separate some limbs from their rightful owners. They mostly landed behind the bulk of the army. Each volley claimed the lives of more and more mundane soldiers, who marched helplessly forward.


    Chance winced as he heard a shell land behind him followed by screams. He forced his eyes forward and kept marching. The horns blared three times in a row. A chorus of ¡°CHARGE!¡± echoed down the line of commanders. Chance tightened his grip on the staff in both hands and took off at a run. The army surged to follow. The sorceresses kept their arms held forward, maintaining the shield. The enemy forces roared and echoed out of the canyon fortress in a countercharge. Once the enemy entered the shorter range of the Rashilian rifles, the horn blared twice. ¡°Halt!¡± Lieutenant Perry yelled as she heard the command come from the center and raised her sword into the air to signal to the platoon. The soldiers lined up again, reforming ranks.


    ¡°Ready!¡± The riflemen and women squared up their shoulders to shoot.


    ¡°Aim!¡± They shouldered their rifles and aimed them downrange at the approaching horde of enemies.


    ¡°DOWN!¡± the commanders cried out. The sorcerers and sorceresses in front of the line dropped to their hands and knees, ducking their heads down. The protective shield dissipated.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°FIRE!¡± The thunder was deafening and Chance could feel the heat of the inferno spewing from the weapons over him. But he wasn¡¯t hit at least.


    ¡°Reload!¡± The command came down the line. The sorcerers and sorceresses stood up into the still warm smoky air. The shield was back in place as the remaining wisps of gunpowder smoke twisted and danced in the field unnaturally. The spell came up just in time to send the counter volley careening away. Several seconds passed that felt like an eternity as the line of soldiers reloaded. Chance stood there anxious and half deafened, unable to do anything for the moment but watch the fear on his men¡¯s faces. His role would come later. He eyed the approaching enemy. He noted that even from a distance their ¡°uniforms¡± weren¡¯t uniform at all. These were irregular shock troops, designed to be devastating up close, but were equally expendable. Easy prey.


    Another refrain of ¡°Ready! Aim! Down! Fire! Reload!¡± and Chance readied for the first of the oncoming enemy to reach their line. He stepped up beside his assigned sorceress partner and put a hand on her shoulder. Her name was Shelly, and she looked over and gave him a worried look.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they won¡¯t get past me,¡± he said confidently.


    Her face tensed a bit, but then relaxed. ¡°They better not. Or else, I¡¯ll be really cross with you!¡±


    The commanders called the final cycle of ¡°Ready! Aim! Down! Fire!¡± but no ¡°Reload!¡± Instead, the command was one of the single most terrifying things you can say to a soldier. ¡°AFFIX BAYONETS!¡± They pulled the bayonets from their pouches and slotted them into position on the front of their rifles, turning them into makeshift spears.


    Chance forced his breathing steady and suppressed the fear welling inside him. He was able to see the approaching enemy more clearly for some reason, and all he could think of was that he was about to kill someone. Mostly likely more than one. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the case. But his stomach felt like a pit of snakes on fire, and he neared the point of vomiting merely standing still as the thudding of his heart against his gunfire deafened ears and taste the sharp acrid sulfuric ash in the air nearly drew his attention away from the oncoming wave of death.


    The loud shout and battle cry of the enemy army very rapidly approaching forced his attention from his anxiety. He turned his staff over in his hands reflexively. The oncoming troops ran straight through the shimmering barrier that served as a shield from the gunfire. The first enemy to approach Chance didn¡¯t even see the strike that killed him.


    It was not ambiguous either. Chance¡¯s practiced strike hit the man¡¯s unarmored head, destroying it so fully that splattered crushed-skull and brain matter clung to the staff as Chance readied to strike again, only for his victim to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut. Chance did not really have time to take in the view of the shattered skull or the corpse¡¯s last spasmodic twitching as the next enemy soldier stepped over to his similar fate.


    Now that the first one was done, adrenaline had taken full control, and the constant onslaught of attackers shifted Chance¡¯s demeanor quickly from uncertain and anxious to ferocious and bloodthirsty. His eye dilated, the taste of ash faded from his mind, and with blood on his boots he readied himself to pounce on his next victim.


    The first enemies approaching him did so one at a time. They all got the staff to the face or knee, sending them tumbling to the ground either dead, concussed, or clutching their wound in pain. Seeing their comrades fall one after the other, the attacking soldiers stopped to get organized and approach in groups. Chance swung his staff in a large horizontal arc and hit two of them before being blocked by the rifle of the third.


    Chance pulled the staff back for another strike, the soldier who had blocked his attack leveled his rifle with a bayonet attached and charged him. Chance easily batted the strike wide and punched the enemy in the face, hard. Chance winced at the pain as he felt a bone in his hand snap. Then he felt a tingling sense of¡ª


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    Chance pulled the staff back for another strike. The soldier who had blocked his attack leveled his rifle with a bayonet attached and charged him. Chance swung the staff up and hit the charging man in the crotch. The man dropped his weapon and fell to one knee in pain. Chance stepped back and crushed the man¡¯s skull with one powerful downward swing. Chance thought back to their instructor Zal¡¯s lessons: You win, or you die.


    The mundane soldiers soon stood beside him, bayonets at the ready, as the main body of the enemy army approached. He looked to the left and to the right at the men beside him. They kept their eyes forward, fear and resolve clear in their eyes. Then the cavalry arrived. From the left flank, the horseman kept in reserve charged across the field to encircle the enemies who had so recklessly charged away from their fortress. Any first-year officer would know better than to leave the entire back half of your army exposed. The whole line cheered as they saw the heavily armored cavalry tear through the rear of the enemy near the wall that was the enemy¡¯s last line of defense.


    Fate took it¡¯s turn.


    A cacophony of rapid gunfire erupted from the wall. On top of the wall, there were several reinforced and fortified turrets that fired hundreds of rounds in just a few seconds. The withering fire cut down the cavalry completely. The fire also struck their own troops that were past the cavalry, and suddenly the use of low-skill shock troops made sense to Chance.


    The cavalry was a complete loss, 100 percent casualty rate. The cheer from the line died in the air as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. Not only had their best troops been destroyed in a matter of seconds. The defenders proved that there was no way that the Rashilian army could take it by force.


    The army started to rout, starting on the left flank. The shimmering shield faded and then went away altogether as the troops there fled for their lives from the charging horde. ¡°Hold fast, soldiers!¡± Chance yelled. Then the horn blew two short blasts and one long one¡ªthe signal to retreat. ¡°Or not,¡± Chance muttered to himself. ¡°I want an orderly retreat, no turning tail and running.¡± The line slowly but orderly moved backward.


    As the magical soldiers on the left flank were cut down, the shield dropped. Without their shield, the combined Rustang forces had stopped chasing and now merely fired volley after volley from repeating rifles into the crowd of fleeing Jeranese and Rashilian forces. Seeing this, the center started to rout as well. As the line collapsed, Chance said a quick prayer to the Patriarch that his platoon could retreat safely.


    The Rustang attacking his platoon followed the retreat, but safely on the other side of the shimmering shield barrier. He looked to his right and the squads there seemed to be holding, but the squads to the left of the center fell to pieces. He watched in horror as the shield began to collapse and the barrage of bullets began. They fell in a wave, one after the other, until they reached the center. The center of their flank held, but only because Lieutenant Perry stood far at the front with her sorcerer partner, giving the other troops room to retreat. They fought back-to-back; the sorcerer wielded a long polearm, and Lieutenant Perry had one hand up, maintaining what little shield she could, and fought with her sword with the other hand.


    In an instant, the sorcerer fighting next to Lieutenant Perry went down with a bayonet driven through the base of his skull from behind, killing him instantly. The soldier who struck the killing blow lifted his weapon into the air in a triumphant cry, only to be immediately to have his hamstrings cut by the lieutenant and collapsing to the ground mid celebration dance. She tried to back away from the approaching soldiers, but they chased faster than she could run backwards and they overtook on her quickly.


    She swung her sword in big arcs in desperate hope of keeping the attackers at arm¡¯s length. Chance rationalized his idiocy thinking if she fell, her line would collapse, and then his would, and all his soldiers would die. He couldn¡¯t have that. He turned to Shelly and said, ¡°No matter what happens, hold this line!¡± and took off at full speed. Shelly began to object, but Chance was far out of earshot by the time she spoke.


    Chance met the oncoming attackers like a rock breaking waves. He swung wide, sweeping the legs of the enemies who stood in his way. He danced out of the way of most blows, slipping between attackers and using a bit of luck when he needed to. The line of attackers bent around him as he crashed through the chaotic melee.


    A forearm vibrating swing of a heavy club know Lieutenant Perry¡¯s sword out of her hand. The men surrounding her looked at her hungrily. She drew her dagger and prepared herself to die, or worse.


    As Chance advanced through the crowd, he tried to build a mental model of how far he could leap with his staff to get over the soldiers surrounding the lieutenant. Distracted as he was by the demands of battle, he made his best guess and planted one end of the staff on the ground and pole-vaulted up. It took several attempts worth of luck to pull it off, but then like a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky, he leaped over the last foes between him and the lieutenant and drop-kicked a foe in the face.


    He grunted forcefully as he landed. ¡°Fuck yeah, THAT was cool!¡± He took big heaving breaths from his exertion, but never stopped fighting. He exalted in the thrill of battle in a way that, when he reflected on it later, was very concerning to him. He felt like he was taken over by manic madness, and he loved it. He swept the legs of the closest enemy soldiers and got close to the lieutenant.


    She stared at him awestruck and then confused and then angry. ¡°Sergeant! What did I say about heroics? Did you not hear the horn to retreat?¡± She ducked under a blow and stabbed her would-be attacker in the throat.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I¡¯m heroic, huh?¡± Chance answered as he blocked a blow idly. She glared back at him, trying to continue retreating slowly. ¡°Sorry,¡± Chance said, ¡°I¡¯ve never been a very good listener.¡± There were so few shields left that the Rustang fired into the retreating crowd with rifles that he noticed fired every time the wielder pumped a lever on the underside of it. Turning his attention back to Lieutenant Perry, he smashed the wrist of one of the soldiers closing in on her, causing him to drop his weapon.


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s not that I don¡¯t apreci¡ªAH!¡± She cried out as one of the Rustang soldiers landed a lucky blow to her leg. She went to one knee and desperately fended off the soldier who struck her. Seeing this, Chance took a step back from the soldier he was currently beating about the face and swung his staff at the one bearing down on the lieutenant. The blow connected and shattered most of the bones in the victim¡¯s face. He went down in a heap of pain and blood.


    ¡°Can you walk?¡± Chance asked as he stepped in to defend the lieutenant.


    She shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so; this cut is pretty deep.¡± She had dropped her dagger and held one hand to her leg, trying to stop the bleeding while barely holding on to her shield with the other hand.


    Chance looked back at the retreating line. The two of them were almost completely encircled now. Chance cursed. ¡°Ok, time to run, I think. Hold on.¡± He twisted the staff and pulled it apart unlocking the mechanism so that when he pushed it together, it folded in on itself like a telescope he could fit in his lowest bidder bag.


    ¡°What are you do¡ªAH!¡± she cried as Chance picked her up and carried her behind him like a backpack with her legs wrapped around his torso. The soldiers surrounding them, seeing them both without weapons, closed in rapidly. Now with both hands free, Lieutenant Perry was able to maintain a shield around them rather than in just one direction.


    ¡°Keep that shield up!¡± Chance said as he moved to run toward the line of their troops. He ran straight for the line and caught a bayonet in the side for his trouble.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    ¡°Keep that shield up!¡± Chance said as he sprinted toward the line of their troops. He dashed in a zig-zag pattern to keep the enemy shooters unsure where to aim. Those that did get close had their bullets veer off and collide with their own soldiers. He was too slow; the enemy line now completely encircled them. It was two (or one and a half really) versus two hundred. The shimmering shield around them kept the enemy from shooting, but they paced ever closer with their bayonets at the ready.


    ¡°Welp,¡± the lieutenant said. ¡°We¡¯re screwed.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t count us out just yet. I have an idea.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Just be ready to drop the shield when I say.¡±


    ¡°Are you CRAZY!? That¡¯s the only thing keeping us alive.¡±


    ¡°Exactly, and it¡¯s the last thing they would expect,¡± Chance said, smirking to himself.


    One of the soldiers stepped up and thrust his bayonet at Chance. Chance reached out to grab it, but had three of his fingers cut off in the attempt.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    One of the soldiers stepped up and thrust his bayonet at Chance. He stepped out to the side and then reached to grab it. He grasped it by the muzzle and gave it a hard yank. The soldier holding it tumbled forward and Chance smashed him in the face with his elbow. Chance spun, but caught the butt of a rifle in the face.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    One of the soldiers stepped up and thrust his bayonet at Chance. He stepped out to the side and then reached to grab it. He grasped it by the muzzle and gave it a hard yank. The soldier holding it tumbled forward and Chance smashed him in the face with his elbow. Without looking, Chance thrust the bayonet behind him and stabbed his would-be attacker through the chest. He pulled the weapon from the Rustang woman¡¯s chest and inspected it. Like he had seen earlier, it had a lever on the underside and a trigger like he was accustomed to. He spun around, poking his makeshift spear at anyone who got close. ¡°You ready?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh . . .¡± is all he got in reply from the lieutenant.


    ¡°Drop it!¡±


    The lieutenant lowered her hands and the shield dissipated. As soon as he saw the shimmer fade, Chance leveled the gun at the soldiers directly between him and their own retreating army. He held the trigger and pumped the lever.


    BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Click. Click.


    Six soldiers in front of him fell in a heap and didn¡¯t get back up. Chance looked down at the weapon. ¡°I could get USED to this.¡± One of the leaders in the crowd shouted something in Rustang that he didn¡¯t understand, but when all the soldiers around them leveled their weapons at him, he got the gist. ¡°Shields up!¡±


    As fast as she could manage, Lieutenant Perry raised her hands and resumed the shield. Half a moment later a volley of fire came from all around them. Chance could feel the bullets passing by him and could barely see, the smoke was so thick. The sulfuric snakes returned to his stomach, but only for a moment.  A gust of wind picked up and dispersed the smoke, revealing that they were now surrounded by many dead and dying enemy soldiers. ¡°Haha!¡± Lieutenant Perry yelled, ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked.¡±


    ¡°Well, we aren¡¯t done yet,¡± Chance remarked as he leaned over to pick up one of the fallen soldier¡¯s weapons. Armed again, he ran toward the friendly line. When he got close to the next soldiers in his way he said, ¡°Shields down!¡±


    The lieutenant did as asked. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Click.


    ¡°Shields up!¡± The lieutenant raised the shield again.


    Chance ran past the soldiers he had just shot and picked up one of their weapons.


    This cycle repeated several times until they had almost made it to their own lines. But then, appearing as if from nowhere, directly in their way, stood a massive giant of a man who spun a flail in each hand while approaching them menacingly. He wore plates of metal that didn¡¯t really count as conventional armor, but covered large patches of his body and his head.


    The men surrounding them backed away and began to chant something that he could only assume was the massive man¡¯s name. Chance smirked. Finally, a challenge. He leveled the rifle in his hands. ¡°Shields down!¡± The lieutenant lowered the shield. Chance took aim and pulled the trigger. Click. Uh oh, Chance thought. He pumped the lever and pulled the trigger again. Click.


    He had grabbed a weapon without any rounds left in it. The massive man smiled as he approached slowly, having heard the weapon fail to fire. The other enemies backed away to avoid getting crushed by the massive flails he spun with increasing speed. Chance looked around for another weapon nearby, but found nothing. In desperation, he threw the bayoneted rifle like a javelin at the big man. He merely swatted it out of the air with one of the flails and it fell impotently to the floor, smashed beyond usability.


    The massive man was so close they could smell him now. Chance looked down at his belt and remembered his single-shot backup pistol. He pulled it out of its holster, cocked the hammer, and quickly shot the giant in the gut. The man didn¡¯t even break stride. He raised his right arm, and brought the flail down on Chance.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    The massive man was so close they could smell him now. Chance looked down at his belt and remembered his single-shot backup pistol. He pulled it out of its holster and cocked the hammer. He watched the giant raise his right arm and swing at Chance. He dodged to the right, then the giant¡¯s other flail came in from the side and caught Chance in the hip, shattering his pelvis.


    d¨¦j¨¤ vu


    The massive man was so close they could smell him now. Chance looked down at his belt and remembered his single-shot backup pistol. He pulled it out of its holster and cocked the hammer. He watched the giant raise his right arm and swing at Chance. Even though Chance was slowed by the lieutenant-shaped backpack, he deftly dodged into the blow and got inside the giant¡¯s guard. He reached up and under the ill-fitting tunic the giant wore until his hands found something he could grab. He grabbed and twisted, as hard as he could. The giant of a man let out a howl of pain and fell to his knees, head held low. Chance took a step backward and looked his foe in the eye. His face and head were almost completely covered in metal armor. Chance took his pistol, stuck it in the giant¡¯s ear, and pulled the trigger.


    Blood, skull, and brains exploded out the other side of the giant¡¯s helmet and he collapsed unceremoniously. The crowd of onlooking Rustang soldiers stood there, gob smacked. They regained their senses, and one of the leaders began shouting something. The soldiers got ready to fire. ¡°Oop, time to go. Shields up!¡±


    He started to run toward their lines again, only this time when he was in visual range of the line, he could make out Shelly still hard at work protecting their platoon. She saw him too and gestured to him with her off-hand. Several of their platoon-mates noticed him as well and ran out to meet them. They parted as Chance ran by and they assumed a defensive posture with their bayonets extended. Chance didn¡¯t stop until he was passed by the Jeranese reinforcements from the rear guard.


    As the adrenaline wore off, he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, and Lieutenant Perry hit the ground hard. She let out an audible cry. Chance rolled onto his back and said ¡°Sorry,¡± as he tried to catch his breath.


    Lieutenant Perry sat up and winced. ¡°That was, without a doubt, the stupidest, most bull-headed, half-cocked, idiotic, insane, impulsive, brave, and gallant thing I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Chance sat up to face her. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment, I think . . .¡± he said.


    ¡°Seriously, thank you,¡± she said. ¡°You saved my life, and maybe the lives of most if not the whole platoon.¡± She leaned forward and briefly but firmly kissed him on the lips. She pulled away and Chance was blushing profusely. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t know why I did that.¡± She turned red and looked away. ¡°That was inappropriate, I apologize.¡±


    Chance took a moment and touched his lips. ¡°No, it¡¯s ok, it¡¯s adrenaline high,¡± he said. ¡°Plus, it was nice. Let¡¯s just say you don¡¯t court-martial me for disobeying a direct order, and we call it square, all right?¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡± And they both lay back on the grass. The sounds of battle still rang out from the distance. But they were too exhausted to care.