Cah’lia looked like she was having trouble remaining seated. “This is somewhat my fault,” she said, her words laced with acid. “Sehn always shows up one hour late if you give him a timeframe. He feels in his ridiculous little mind that it’s beneath him to show up on time for something, and that we are insulting his ‘greatness’ by requiring him to appear at a certain time.”
Duuhard mumbled something under his breath and then looked at Saerith. “This, my good prince, is utterly inappropriate. As a Kingdom Commander, I lodge a formal complaint with you against your man.”
Saerith shook his head. “Do you really think I can do something about Sehn? If you want to serve him some kind of subpoena to appear before us, then as his prince I’ll allow it. In fact, by all means, take him off my hands. Otherwise, it’s not worth it to me.”
“Not…worth it? To you? What do you mean?” Duuhard asked. “He’s one of your men, is he not? You are the prince to the elves, and he is an elf! I ask for disciplinary measures to be taken, for this tardiness of his is an insult to all of us.”
Seehara and the few that didn’t know Sehn nodded, while Saerina shifted anxiously in her chair, and Alan guffawed.
“Maybe we should send someone to find him,” Seehara said. “I’d like to give this little elf of yours a mouthful. He has a dangerous weapon in hand, and…what is it exactly he said he was doing? Were you not the last one to see him, young Cah’lia?”
Cah’lia’s face flushed with embarrassment, and Patrick knew that she’d be giving Sehn an earful later for humiliating her and making her look bad by extension. She licked her lips. “He’s…I’d rather not say.”
“Do say,” Seehara demanded, “because I think we’re all owed an explanation here.”
Duuhard nodded. “I agree. Please inform us of this young elf’s excuse. If not, then I will file a formal complaint.”
“He’s…” Cah’lia bit the lower corner of her lip and looked everywhere except at the faces of the two Kingdom officials questioning her. “He’s trying to find the vault room and steal from it.”
“He’s
what
?” Seehara asked, leaning in closer. “Forgive me. At my age, my hearing is not so good.”
Patrick cleared his throat. He needed to put a stop to this before things got out of hand again. “Everyone, please. If he doesn’t show up, then we’ll just have to send someone to find him. I’m sure that as long as we—wait, huh? What’s that?”
He paused as the sound of something strange reached his ears. It was brief, lasting less than an instant, but he could’ve sworn he’d heard a voice from somewhere off behind him, a sound that almost seemed to be coming from within the walls. A moment passed, and then he heard it again—he was sure of it. There was a muffled, distant voice, and it was saying something he couldn’t quite discern.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, master?” this voice whispered, distracting Patrick from finishing what he’d been about to say. Most of those in the room with him darted their heads around as though also looking for the source of the voice, which meant they had heard it, too. Patrick inhaled, and then held the breath. It sounded like it was coming from behind him, but he wasn’t certain.
Then the voices—there were more than one—spoke again, and this time, Patrick could make out precisely what they were saying.
“Of course I’m sure!” another, louder, and angrier voice answered. “How dare you question my orders? You will pay for this later. Now, do as I have instructed or face destruction.”
Patrick fell into something of a stupor, too confused to do or say anything. Mostly, he wanted to know why the voices came from the wall behind him as though someone was
inside
the wall. Was this some kind of trick? An illusion?
As it turned out, it was neither of these things.
An explosion from the back wall sent Patrick jumping to the floor, along with several other Kingdom officials, who leapt out of their chairs and landed on the fancy rugs. The wall was blown to bits, and rocks, dirt, and dust were flung in every direction. Where the back wall had been only seconds ago, now there was a silhouette of the Champion: the beast who Patrick both feared and hated. This Champion, this…this “Item.” It peered around the room disinterestedly, its catlike eyes sending shivers down Patrick’s spine.
Then, appearing from behind him, Sehn strolled casually into the room. As though this were all part of his normal morning routine, he took a seat at the table, scratched his hair, and then yawned. After stretching his back, he reached over the table and pulled the entire tray of fruits and wine over to him, putting a few apples on his plate and pouring himself a drink, all while mouths fell agape and people picked themselves up off the rugs, then backed away from him in terror.
“The fuck are you all looking at?” he asked after a short period of silence. Then, Patrick felt his muscles stiffen as Sehn’s eyes fell over him. “Patrick!” he barked. Why are there no strawberries here? You have failed me for the last time!”
Patrick swallowed the lump that’d formed in his throat. He struggled with everything he was worth to keep his voice even. “Sehn,” he responded calmly, “why did…for what purpose did you just destroy that wall? The door was right over there.” He pointed to the iron door parallel to the destroyed section of the wall.
Sehn’s eyes bulged. He threw his fork against his plate, causing an unsettling clang. “What do you mean, ‘why’, fool? The Great Sehn travels only in a straight line towards his destinations. This is your fault for positioning me in a place that required me to take turns. You’ll find several other walls have been destroyed as well. Next time, do not ask the Great Sehn to make turns, and we will not have this problem. Do you understand me, slave?”
Duuhard, first getting back to his feet, trembled and grabbed Patrick’s arm. “W-who is this elf?” he asked. “I want him arrested! I want him brought up on charges!” He removed a manuscript from his robe, his arms shaking like a leaf. “I am filing an official report to the king himself!”
Sehn snorted. “Champion, grab that paper and rip it up.”
The Champion nodded. “Yes, master.” The man with the catlike eyes crossed the distance in just one powerful stride, and Duuhard dropped his quill to the floor then fell back on his rear. The Champion snatched the paper from his fingers and ripped it into many tiny pieces, all while the old commander panted and looked around as if asking for someone to assist him.
“T-th-th-this cannot be allowed! Prince Saerith, order your man down!”
“Sehn,” Saerith began calmly. “It would be nice if you—”
“How
dare
you begin a sentence with the words ‘it would be nice if you’!” Sehn bellowed.
Saerith shrugged. “Well, I tried.”
Whereas the elven prince had lost the patience to deal with Sehn, the same could not be said for Cah’lia. She flew up and out of her seat, pointed a finger at him, and with a loud, angered voice, she shouted at him.
“Sehn!” she snapped. “Sit down and behave yourself right now—or else!”
“Or else what, bitch’lia? Nero! Get in here at once!”
Patrick looked over his shoulder, and he saw two more figures enter from the destroyed section of the wall.
“I’m trying!” Nero shouted back. “But Rina won’t get off me.”
“R-Rina is sorry, Mistress Cah’lia!” the little girl squeaked. She clutched Nero’s arm in both her hands, dragging him away from the opening in the wall. “She tried to stop Nero from following Sehn. She knows we are not allowed in this meeting. But Nero was being a silly boy, and Rina could not stop him.”
There was a sound of panting and then another arrival. A pudgy dwarf was doubled over, catching his breath. “Ohh, heavens but Wolly be tired,” the dwarf said. “Don’t be blam’in me for this, missy Cah’lia. Old Wolly swears he did his best, but the little ones marched along with Sehn. I did be try’in to stop them, I swear it.”
Cah’lia released an animal-like growl. “Sehn, we need to have a word later.”
“Fuck your words! The Great Sehn listens only to himself.”
As though finally deciding to involve themselves, the Kingdom officials began shouting angrily at Sehn, demanding to know who he thought he was to create mayhem during such an important meeting.
“Will someone
please
tell me what’s going on here,” Marcus said. “Has the world gone crazy? Who exactly
are
all of these people, Patrick?”
Saerina and Saerith exchanged a brief look, and then Saerina said, “This is Sehn, the one with the Item.”
“
Him
?”
Sehn, sitting up straight, shifted his eyes between Patrick and all the others. “Nero,” he said, “I want you to write down the names of everyone who didn’t bow before me when I entered. They will be punished later.”
“B-but Sehn,” Nero said, “none of them bowed to you.”
“Then write down all of their names!”
“Okay, but my sister doesn’t look happy…”
“Do you think I care what Cah’lia thinks? Hah! Champion, I order you to—”
Sehn didn’t get another word in. Cah’lia, with the grace and speed Patrick had come to revere her for, tackled Sehn to the ground and covered his mouth. “We’ve been through this before, haven’t we?” she taunted. “You rely on that big mouth of yours too much.”
Patrick wiped sweat from his forehead and then spun back around to face the others. “I’m afraid this is the best we can do. We may as well get back to work. It’s not ideal, but this is considerably better than usual when dealing with Sehn.”
I need a drink.
“I don’t understand,” Command Duuhard said. There were lines on both sides of his face now. It was almost as though Sehn had stressed him to such a degree that he’d aged a few years in just the past minute or so.
“What don’t you understand?” Sehn asked. “Speak!”
“I don’t understand why I can’t at least have an apple. I haven’t had anything to eat since the battle.”
Sehn flinched at the question. Who did this Gods-cursed man think he was? Was there even enough for both of them? Sehn looked down upon the large serving trays meant for the entire table. All four were directly in front of him. The room went silent while they waited for his reply. What was the right thing to do here? It was a difficult question, even for Sehn. Eventually, he came up with a solution.
“Ten gold pieces,” he decided.
Duuhard’s eyebrows rose to the top of his face. “T-ten gold pieces? For food that is supposed to be for all of us in the first place?”
“Now
it’s
twenty
gold pieces!” he shouted at the fool. Once more, Sehn wondered just who in the world this creature thought it was. Sehn did not negotiate with his lowly subjects, and by Godly-mandate, any attempt to negotiate resulted in a higher price. That was just how it worked for some reason.
Cah’lia glared at him, but Sehn expected nothing less of her. Of course the foolish woman was angry with him: she was a jealous hater. Though, she was even more upset with him than usual today. Her eyes looked as though they would shoot lightning at him, and she spoke in short, commanding, and anger-filled grunts. “
Give
.
Him
.
An
.
Apple
.”
Sehn muttered what he thought about that under his breath, but he was tired today, so he obliged. He was in no mood to hear Cah’lia’s annoying voice. Besides, he didn’t plan on eating any of his hoarded food in the first place. It had been weeks since he’d felt any real sense of hunger.
Things had calmed down shortly after his heroic entrance. Patrick, Saerith, Saerina, and Alan had gone around picking up fallen chairs that’d been knocked over after Sehn’s intentional defeat to Cah’lia. She had refused to get off him until he agreed not to misuse his new minion-servant. Thinking back on his promise, Sehn concealed a snicker. It was one he had no intention of keeping.
Men and women shifted uneasily in their chairs whenever they looked at him. Several snuck glances at the Champion, who rested with his back to the wall on the other corner of the room. Behind Sehn, two Kingdom guards escorted Nero, Rina, and Wolly back to their sleeping quarters.
“But I wanna stay!” Nero moaned while the guards led him away.
Sehn knew many of the people around the table, but there were quite a few he did not recognize. He remembered the odd little mayor, Rumpus Pumpus, who now gave both him and Cah’lia dirty, shame-filled looks, and Sehn recalled several of the younger lieutenants who’d been present during the dinner where he’d disguised himself as Prince Saerith.
Sehn had no idea who this Commander Duuhard fool was, though, but whoever he was, Sehn already hated him. His heart burned with seething hatred as the commander took a bite out of the apple and then nodded his thanks to Cah’lia, before turning back to Sehn and grinning with an expression that almost seemed to say, “I won and you lost.”
Look at him
,
Sehn thought with a scowl.
He looks like he’s really enjoying that apple
.
Gods
,
I want to take it back so badly
.
I want to destroy every apple in the world
!
Death to all apples
!
Cah’lia, as if somehow gaining the ability to read his thoughts, shot him another look of warning. It was a struggle for him to remain in his seat, because his body practically squirmed with the anger she was rousing within his divine heart. How dare the commander steal back a piece of the fruit that Sehn had stolen? That was stealing! And Stealing was wrong! It seemed no one these days had any morals.
There was a relative quiet while Patrick slowly brought the room back to order. He and Saerith picked up the scattered documents off the floor and set them back down on the table. Every so often, when Sehn was sure that no one looked his way, he would slide his arm forward and intentionally knock a few papers back down.
“That’s odd,” Patrick mumbled to himself as he passed by Sehn’s chair. He bent down and scooped up a handful of documents. “I could’ve sworn I put the rebuilding estimates back over by Seehara.”
Sehn laughed. “Maybe you’re losing your sanity, cowardly prince.”
Patrick looked at the documents in his hands then back at Sehn. He squinted. “Perhaps,” he said in a suspicious whisper.
By noon, the meeting was ready to continue. Sehn hoped it would be over with quickly. He hated meetings. In fact, he hated anything that involved being surrounded by people. Unless, of course, those very same people were only there to praise and worship him, and thus far, not one sacrifice had been made in Sehn’s glorious honor. Not even one. Someone was going to be killed for this. He would see to it.
Once everyone had retaken their seats and were served various beverages, Saerith said, “I think we can continue now, yes, Patrick?”
The prince nodded. “Yes, I think we may.” He rested his palms on the table and appeared to brace himself. Patrick waited for the few remaining whispers to dull before speaking.
“Now, I know this isn’t an easy topic to discuss, but the sooner we act then the sooner we can all rest easy. It’s imperative that we decide here and now what we’re to do with the Item.”
At these words, Sehn watched as all present turned in their seats to look at the man with the catlike eyes. Only Alan and Saerina kept their focus on the prince.
“Sehn,” Patrick continued, “I know you view this…being as your personal slave, servant, or whatever ridiculous title you’ve come up with, but it is far too dangerous for one lone elf to control. We need to either kill it or put it someplace where it cannot be of any trouble to us.”
“I agree,” Saerina said. She turned her cold, uncaring eyes on Sehn. It made him uncomfortable; there was something about the Elven Princess that didn’t sit right with him. “The thing obeys your commands, does it not?” she asked. “Order it to execute itself. And if it cannot do that, then order it to allow us to destroy it.”
Voices from most of those gathered in this meeting chimed in with approval. And not just the Kingdom officials, either. Cah’lia surprised Sehn, voicing her own agreement at the idea of killing the Champion.
“She’s right,” Cah’lia said. “We need to get rid of it. It seems like you were able to harm it, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue to ask it to die.” She narrowed her eyes at the Item. “I’ll do the job myself if needed.”
Sehn felt an odd flurry of emotions. On the one hand, he wanted to commend Cah’lia for her ruthlessness, but a deeper part of him was, for a reason he couldn’t grasp, revolted by her words. Not because of what she wanted to do, of course, as murdering a—currently—defenseless life ranked high on Sehn’s list of commendable acts. So why, then? He didn’t know.
Despite the Champion’s usefulness and power, Sehn knew how dangerous he was. Though, not that it mattered to him, because he alone was more dangerous than a million Champions combined. But regardless of his own Godly power, his mind repeatedly flashed back to the horrific battle. Even now, unburied bodies littered the valley beyond Hahl in a trail that led as far back as to the base of a few of the nearest mountains. And why? What cause was there for all the slaughter? Was it really all because of these ‘Items’?
“I don’t see anyone disagreeing,” Saerith said. “Then let’s consider this matter settled then, shall we? Sehn, order your beast to die or to allow itself to be executed.”
“Do not presume to tell me what to do,” Sehn demanded. “Perhaps the one the Great Sehn will order to die will be none other than yourself.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Patrick said. “Sehn, please, just deal with this problem, and then you can ‘punish’ us all later. The Gods know I’d sacrifice my dignity in exchange for having this problem put long behind us.”
Sehn turned around in his chair and looked at the Champion. It was barely visible beneath the creature’s murderous exterior, but Sehn was positive there was a touch of fear in those dark, catlike eyes of his. It wasn’t the way he stood or the way he gazed at the officials in the war room—he appeared sharp, alert, and his posture was straight—no, it was something else. It was the way his lips, for just a moment, quivered when Sehn regarded him.
“Champion,” Sehn called to him.
The Champion kept his back pressed against the wall, and he spoke without moving in his usual, omnipresent whisper. “Yes, master?”
“Have you been listening to the conversation we’re having about you, minion-fool?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“I await your orders, master.”
“Well, there you have it,” Duuhard said, a note of cheer in his voice. “It looks like we can all sleep soundly tonight, for we can deprive the Hawk of one of his Items. Go on then, elf, place the order.”
Sehn ignored the commander. “So, you’ve heard everything we’ve said, have you?”
“Yes,” the Champion whispered.
“And yet you have nothing to add?”
“Are you asking for my opinion?”
Saerith stood up from his seat and marched in front of Sehn, standing between him and the Champion. “Sehn, just what do you think you’re doing? This thing doesn’t have an opinion. Stop wasting our time and make the command so we can end this.”
A beam of light from a narrow window in the war-room lit up Saerith’s face, making him look pale and sickly. Or was it his own fear? Sehn wasn’t certain. The Champion, though patient and unmoving, was likely the most frightened in the room, regardless of whatever his stone-face seemed to indicate.
“Saerith, step aside. I’m asking my minion a question.”
Saerith’s jaw tightened. “What for? Since when do we concern ourselves with what a mindless killing machine has to say? Gods, Sehn, that thing doesn’t have the ability to form an opinion. It’s an object!”
“Is that true?” Sehn asked the Champion. Even with his line of sight blocked by Saerith, he could still see the Champion’s broad shoulders.
“Is what true?” he whispered back.
“Are you capable of forming an opinion?”
“I can,” he answered without hesitation.
Sehn hopped off his seat and brushed Saerith aside. The Elven Prince looked outraged, but Sehn knew it wasn’t because of his slight—by now Saerith must’ve been used to that. No, it was more likely outrage over Sehn’s willingness to communicate with his minion. But why shouldn’t he? It was
his
minion after all.
Sehn approached the Champion until he stood only a foot away. “So tell me, then. What is your opinion?”
No emotion entered the Champion’s catlike eyes as he spoke, yet his voice seemed to grow just a subtle notch softer and take on the slightest hint of a plea.
“If you’d permit me, master, I would prefer to live.”
Sehn kicked the Champion in the shin and suppressed a groan. It felt like slamming his foot into a rock. “Then why didn’t you say that at first! Fool, you made me waste almost two minutes of my time dealing with this. From now on, I expect you to speak up when you have an opinion on something.”
“From now…on?” Saerith whispered. “Sehn, are you implying—”
“I’m not having him killed,” Sehn declared. “He is valuable to me. Why should I sacrifice a weapon? How else will I terrorize innocent villagers and plunder the lands?”
At once, the Kingdom officials burst into protest, all except Alan, who merely shrugged at Sehn then circled his finger around his ear, as if to imply everyone was crazy. Sehn couldn’t make out any individual words amid the enraged shouts. Not that he cared to, anyway. He had made his decision, which meant that everyone else could eat a dick.
Between the hole in the wall, the glasses both previously and currently being smashed, and the rising voices all directed at Sehn, it was safe to say that the meeting wasn’t proceeding quite as smoothly as Patrick had intended, which caused Sehn to laugh. He loved it when things didn’t go according to Patrick’s plan, because the prince always acted like such a bitch and deserved to have things not succeed.
As if to intentionally prove Sehn’s point, Patrick traveled from chair to chair, trying to soothe his hastily assembled court and bring it back to order, while snobby men and women pointed their fingers at Sehn and shouted threats, several with foam in their mouths.
When the tension showed no sign of letting up, and the voices turned from shouts into outright screams, Saerina was the one to bring an end to things. “Enough!” her voice thundered. She clapped her hands together, and despite the half-dozen windows letting in the bright noon rays of sunshine into the war room, it became as dark as night. For just a moment, nothing could be seen or even heard. During this short period, Sehn feared he’d been blinded, because he held his hands in front of his face and saw only blackness. Somehow, Saerina had drained the place of all light. It was like the inside of a cave, only darker.