“No, last night with that blue light, you healed me.”
“Blue light?” he asked confused.
She lowered her gaze, and again she felt a pang of irritation. “Yes, you held me . . . and well . . . stroked me with your hand . . . and there was this blue light.”
He laughed. “Oh? You are a naughty little minx, dreaming about me in such a way. You’ll make me blush.”
She pouted. “Must you always tease me?”
He walked over to her and whispered, “It is quite entertaining,” before kissing her on the cheek. “Break down the camp.”
She lifted her hand to her cheek, unsure of the intention behind it. However, he disappeared into the nearby vegetation before she could make any enquiry. She stood there for a moment with her hand against her cheek, grinning like a fool before realising she was doing just that. Feeling a bit silly, she turned her attention to the routine of breaking down the camp.
Killmar moved fast
and stopped at the rendezvous location in under a minute. “Any contracts?”
A woman dropped out of a nearby tree. She looked like a common beggar; on the street of any Eranian city she’d be indistinguishable from her peers, but here in the wilderness, she seemed a bit out of place. “Hundreds, as usual.”
“Why have you failed to adapt to the environment?” he asked in a scolding tone.
The woman explained carefully. “I got held up by one of my informants. I deemed his information of enough worth to delay my departure. I forwent camouflage to make the rendezvous. Don’t worry, I took steps to ensure I wasn’t followed.”
“Any contracts of worth?” he asked after deciding killing her would be more trouble than it was worth.
“A few, but I think you’ll only be interested in one of them,” she answered with a smile.
“What do they offer as payment?”
“I was never told.”
He found himself intrigued. “Oh?”
“It’s the Emperor.”
He gave a toothy grin. “So Ryuuhan needs me once more? He has always known how to pique my curiosity. Inform him that I’ve shown interest.”
The woman bowed. “It shall be done.”
“Have you heard from the others?”
“Yes.”
“Anything I should know?”
“Raven reports that the situation in the Kingdom of Zinox is growing more volatile by the day. King Lindred has begun to punish any who speak of Asteroth. Apparently, the Fat King still denies his existence. Considering his personality, Raven predicts that he will likely declare war on the yog’murgarr in xenophobic fear, disguising it as an attempt to quell the growing disconcertion among the common folk.”
Killmar rubbed his chin. “Fear often presents opportunity. Did he mention any impressive contracts?”
The woman shook her head. “Large sums of gold, but nothing of real interest. Kingdom nobles don’t seem to grasp the conditions they need to fulfil to present an enticing offer.”
He sighed before throwing a small pouch to the woman. “Here. I am pleased to see that it was not a mistake to designate you to this region.”
The pouch’s contents chinked as she caught it. “Thank you, I—”
She looked up and realised she was alone.
Jessica stood, satisfied
with the efficiency with which she had broken down the camp. She noticed the absence of carrion birds and walked over to where Killmar had thrown the black bear carcass. But instead of a rotting corpse, she found bones, each completely stripped clean.
“We should start moving,” said Killmar suddenly from behind her.
“Vendrious’s blood! Don’t scare me like that!”
He only smiled slightly before leading the way. They continued on in silence for most of the day until he broke the quiet and asked, “To which family did you belong before you were sold to Kingdom slavers?
Jessica’s stomach froze. “What do you mean?”
“You’re obviously of noble birth, and yet you are currently a slave. The Kingdom’s code of honour prevents any local noble from ever becoming a slave, so you must originally be from somewhere else. Not too far, based on your slight accent.”
“But why would you think I’m a noble lady?”
“You are not as talented an actor as you believe. You do not speak as a low born girl would, nor do you react to the scandalous as you should. Your time in captivity has helped you appear coarser than your peers, but a lady’s pedigree is not so easily discarded. You probably don’t know this, due to Willow Way’s isolation, but there are very few things that would make a common girl your age blush. You see, the common folk do not have galas and the like, so they entertain themselves in . . . other ways.”
Jessica stood stunned. She had been found out; if it were anyone else, she might have tried to refute all he said, but Killmar was no fool, and she knew it.
“So where are you from, little rabbit?”
She was silent a moment longer, then answered, “Evershade.”
“Ah, the Coalition of Lords. I was there once or twice; never been to Evershade, though. So you escaped when your house was destroyed?”
She smiled. Of course he knew. She didn’t even know why she bothered to hope he didn’t. “Since when have you known?”
“About the destruction of your house?”
“No, since when have you known who I was?”
He shrugged. “I once heard that all the Raeons had a very distinguishable birthmark. A strange star? But I also heard that all the Raeons were slaughtered in the siege of Mistveil . . . So I have suspected ever since I first saw you naked.”
“It seems you examined me very thoroughly in that cave,” she said dryly.
He smirked. “I had to make sure you were uninjured.”
“I’m sorry I deceived you.”
“No need to apologise; there was no deception. You have been earnest in all things you’ve said and done since I scolded you in that cave,” he said warmly.
“I—”
“Didn’t plan on being sold as a slave?” he finished.
She stopped and looked into the still lush greenery, despite the first assaults of winter, attempting to will her tears back home.
“Are you all right?” he asked seemingly surprised.
“I am of noble birth. I should stop weeping like—”
“A common barmaid?” he supplied with the same look upon his face that had disarmed her more often than she’d like to admit. It made her feel silly and seemed to mock the world of pomp and procedure.
He stroked her cheek as if he spoke to a child. “You are but human, a mortal with a fleeting life. Kings, queens, bakers, farmers; all are judged equally in Henensu’s White Hall. You have as much right to weep and bawl as any fishwife or servant girl. You are but mortal.”
She felt her defences crumble and buried her face in his shoulder. For the first time, she truly wept for her loss, the loss of her brothers, father, mother, uncles and aunts; she wept for the loss of her homeland and those who had fallen heroically defending it. Lastly, she wept for her loss of innocence, taken from her by rough pitiless hands.
Killmar stood holding her and felt his mind wander. He had told her to mourn her loss and understood the importance of it. And to his surprise, he was growing fond of her company, but still, her mourning took longer than he would have liked. As she continued to wet his shoulder with her tears, he wondered what kind of object Ryuuhan had to offer as payment. The Eranian Emperor had an uncanny ability to always make an offer he couldn’t refuse. It has been a long time, but he was excited.
Ryuuhan, hundred and
sixth Emperor of the Eranian Empire, Pillar of Light, and the Most Holy Tiasekai’s Chosen, sat alone in silence. Alone was a relative term when you were emperor, for an emperor was never truly alone. But he was practicing Mokuming, so his guards did him the courtesy of appearing to have left his side.
He smiled. Despite their long relationship and years of training, Kaou still demanded his complete attention.
“Why are you so worried, Ryuuhan?” Kaou asked as the connection was made.
“Because there is ample cause for worry.”
“You worry too much.”
“And you do not worry at all.”
“That is because it is beneath me.”
He laughed.
“It is also beneath you, you know. You’re the Emperor of the Eranian Empire, few are your equal. Which is why I chose you,” said Kaou in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I called for him,” he said, being deliberately vague.
“Who?”
The Old Emperor stayed silent.
“Ryuuhan?”
“It was necessary.”
Then came the unavoidable rage. “Damn you! You called for Killmar, didn’t you?”
“It will save the most lives.”
“You should not trust him. He is not like . . . He is dangerous, Ryuuhan. More dangerous then you can possibly imagine.”
“You have never liked him; even after he saved Hinamori.”
“You are a fool to let gratitude cloud your judgement.”
He knew that marked the end of their conversation and opened his eyes. Carefully, he lifted the katana from his lap with shaky hands and sheathed it. “Well, that went well.”
There was a knock on the door. “Your Eminence, can you spare a moment?”
“Is that you, Joneras?”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“Enter.”
The slender mage did, but he kept his head bowed as he approached the lone cushion. The room was devoid of any furniture, but a variety of exotic flowers were planted all along the circular wall, filling the room with an assortment of sweet fragrances.
Everyone thought him unaware, but Ryuuhan knew what everyone called this room and the story that went with it. They told how he, the Emperor himself, had stormed into a common storage room and tossed all the contents outside in a fevered rage, before giving his servants manic instructions of where he wanted stones removed and flowers planted. Gods, was it really so strange that he wanted a single place in this damned palace to have some semblance of privacy to practice Mokuming? The name they picked was catchy though, the Mind Garden they christened it. He thought of making it the official name but then all the gossips would probably come running and beg for his forgiveness. A prospect he found as appealing as a bleeding anus, a condition he wished he wasn’t as familiar with as he was.
“You found a safe place to hide it?” he asked as Joneras stopped and kneeled, touching his forehead to the floor.
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“And you are sure no one will find it?” he asked as he ran a hand through his red-streaked hair.
“I am sure,” answered the mage without lifting his head.
“I doubt I need to stress the consequences if it were to be stolen.”
“None but I know where it is, and I have placed several glamours and wards to protect it. It is safe.”
Ryuuhan placed Kaou back on his lap, his frail hands quaking as he stroked it. “The Most Holy Tiasekai refused you a reibai, and I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to grow up without that bond. But you are also a mage, the first in over three thousand years. Make no mistake, you are the pride of the ewien race. However do not let it go to your head, and never underestimate the Mages’ Guild.”
“I—” started the young man before realising he should hold his tongue and let the Emperor finish.
“I do not deny that your power is probably unmatched within their ranks, but they have significantly more experience in the mystical arts than you do. Although they would never openly risk my wrath, they most certainly would dedicate all their resources to its silent theft if they knew I had obtained it.”
“I took that into account, Your Eminence. It will cost them dearly if they somehow gained such knowledge and tried to locate it. I won’t claim it is safe indefinitely, but I am confident it will be secure until he arrives,” answered Joneras, his head still firmly against the floor.
“Good. I have another assignment for you.”
“Name it, Your Eminence, and I shall see it done.”
“This creature the humans of Zinox call Asteroth. . . It is said some of the beastmen follow him. If they also believe him the myth come to life, it is not incomprehensible that he might unite the tribes of the Viper Mountains. At which time, he would either be a dangerous enemy at our southern flank, or a valuable ally to the Empire. Go determine which of the two he will be.”
“At once, Your Eminence,” said the grey-skinned man before disappearing in a puff of purple smoke.
“I never tire of seeing that,” said Ryuuhan before looking down at Kaou. “Let my scolding continue.”
The grey-skinned man
stopped at a seemingly unimpressive body of water. It was deep into the wilderness west of Erana, far removed from any civilization. He lightly placed his hand on the surface of the murky water and muttered a few words. The water began swirling, barely visible at first but spiralling more violently by the second. It took only a minute for a dark hole to form at its centre, and without a word, Joneras teleported just above it, leaving behind only a puff of purple smoke.
He fell into the darkness, barely managing to land on his feet as he entered the chamber. It was just large enough for two men to stand side by side. He raised his hands to where he knew the black hole still loomed and uttered another phrase, allowing it to disappear and the whirlpool to dissipate.
He was in utter darkness with limited air. He knew if he did the next incantation incorrectly, all the air would be sucked from the room and he would die within minutes. Carefully, he placed his hands on the two opposite ends of the wall and spoke the words, “Sinrar villion ental ciin’rux troz’we nasiouo zanzibarion.”
There was a rumble, and the wall in front of him phased out of existence, revealing a well-lit hall. He stepped into it; there were four doors on either side and one at the end. He took the first on his left into the small library, where a black robed figure sat in a large wooden chair in one of the corners, reading. His hands, the only thing visible, but due to their nature, it was more than enough to identify him.
“Good news, I hope?” said the chair’s occupant in a gurgling voice.
Joneras smiled. “The Emperor has asked me to evaluate Asteroth’s temperament and see if a possible alliance could be brokered.”
“Ah, that is good news. If handled correctly, we may be able to move ahead of schedule,” said the occupant as he flipped a page with his tentacle-like fingers.