Ruinous Return

The small council met in Lyn's throne room. Their goddess was sitting on the throne itself, eyes closed as she performed some spell.

Chancellor Vehenna leaned over to her sister. "Should we wait until she is finished?"

Spymaster Velenna shook her head. "We can get started. I'm sure she won't mind." She looked across to Steward Mol and Marshal Remora. "How is the city recovering?" she asked in Shereldian.

Steward Mol opened a ledger. "Tha city is bein' rebuilt. Small damage. Funerals goin' accordin' to plan."

Vehenna nodded, then looked at Marshal Remora. "What does the army look like right now?"

"Kory's Killers are lost to us, that's five hundred mercenaries, gone. We lost one hundred ram riders, leaving us at just around nine hundred. Not all died, but the injuries to some were severe enough that they will be effectively useless in this war. Some of the mixed infantry perished, and in effect we are down five hundred troops there, leaving us with four thousand five hundred. No Duskari squadrons were lost, and a very small amount of Newen infantry and archers were lost." She reached down below the table and pulled out a long, smooth, metal object with a handle on one end. "They used this weapon."

Velenna picked it up. "Ah, the Guardian hero told us about these. He called them…fire arms. Odd, they don't look like a pair of arms that are flaming."

Mol gestured for the object, and she handed it to him. He peered down the length of it. "Ah, flame spitter." He looked up at the group. "Ye fill it up with fuel, then ye put a torch in fron' of it. Push this metal bit. Fwoosh."

Empress Lyn got up from the throne and walked down to the council table, taking her seat. "Sort of. This design is inferior." She grabbed it and disassembled the weapon into its various components within seconds, her clawed hands a blur of activity. "We can improve on the design, but these types of weapons are extremely dangerous. In the world the heroes come from, these types of devices were some of the most lethal." She shook her head. "I do not want them in my empire."

Remora cleared her throat. "Couldn't we use them for the time being?"

"Training with them would take weeks that we don't have. The cannons are a different story; those are easier to use, and we can put them onto the ironsides. Let Admiral Naila know that we are going to put the cannons on the vessels. And ask Thomas to demonstrate their use."

Seems like a waste, Vehenna thought as the Destroyer swept the parts into a pile. From the few reports these are powerful tools to simply discard. But, her will be done. She tapped the table to draw attention and spoke. "Trisk has reported all quiet along The Rill. Valagonia has not tried to invade the vassal-kingdom. Their entire military seems focused on the front with Khrelardia. Save for vessels off of the southern coast. Valagonia has amassed a fleet that is sailing around Firol and the Teardrop Isles, and plans to drop off forces behind King Marshall's lines."

Remora nodded. "I will instruct the admiral to set forth down the Flontar River at once and destroy them before they can deliver their payload."

"After the cannons are mounted," Lyn said. "Prioritize that. We are keeping our people safe behind the Dragon's Maw. None will fight in the coming battle between Khrelardia and Valagonia."

"Fergive me, Empress," Mol said as he stood up. "Ye promised us revenge."

Lyn looked to him. "You are correct. Very well." She looked back to Remora. "Any of our soldiers who wish to fight will be given leave to do so. Will you take up the command?"

"I live to serve," the marshal replied.

"Good. You will take any volunteers from among our armed forces, and you will cut a direct course to Skrell. From there, you can go south and assault Cecilaria." She looked back to Mol, who had a pleased look of satisfaction on his face. "Is that satisfactory?"

"Aye, it is, lass. I'll be joinin' them."

Idiot, Vehenna thought. The steward going off to war. She flipped through her notes and put check marks next to a few names of likely candidates for the position should the man not return to perform his duties. "Empress," she said softly, drawing Lyn's attention, "we should consider, perhaps, ordering Trisk's forces to invade from the north. With the Ari marines clearing their vessels, and Khrelardia assisted by you in the west, and our volunteer forces going right into the heartlands of Valagonia…would it not make sense to close in from all sides?"

Lyn tented her hands and nodded. "It is a sensible decision. Marshal Remora? Your thoughts."

"It is a sound plan of action. We know from the Newen diviners that all but a garrison in each duchy, and the capital itself, have been massed on the front with Khrelardia. Have Trisk invade the duchy of Ishtok, then Brol, then Biskon. Your volunteer revenge force starts with Skrell, then moves on to Logor, then Komorra. By that point, the Khrelardian army should have taken Rist. The navy can deal with Firol and Sidalon."

Lyn rubbed her chin as she nodded along to Remora's plan. "Full encirclement of the capital. This is why you're my marshal." She stood up, and the rest of the council followed in response. "We follow Remora's plan. I'm taking one day to myself, then I'm going to join King Marshall's forces to fight on the main front." She looked to Thane Mol. "Best of luck with the revenge."

"Thank ye, lass."

Vehenna bowed slightly. "I will communicate with Trisk and ensure they follow your instructions."

"There you are!" Naila said as she waved at Vael.

Okay. Deep breaths. Smile, Vael told herself. "Sorry I'm late," she said as she took a seat at the small, outdoor café in the residential wedge of Lynhold. She was dressed in street clothes: leather jerkin, her communication amulet, cloth pants, and knee-high boots. I hope I dressed well enough. The admiral seemed like the type who would appreciate a more rough-and-tumble appearance if their previous dates were anything to go by.

"Don't be sorry. I got us wine." Naila held up a bottle and poured Vael a glass of a deep, dark, almost black wine. "Blackberry wine, my favorite." She gestured toward the "training and schooling" wedge of town, which had suffered damage from the empress's fight with the Berserker hero. "At least this part of town wasn't affected. I don't know what I'd do without my usual drink."

Vael smiled. "So…last night before you set out? Tomorrow off to war?"

Naila kicked her long, muscular legs up onto the table. She was dressed similarly to Vael, but she wore a midriff cut jerkin and a short, breathable skirt. Her deep, tan skin was a stark contrast to her piercing green eyes. "Aye. One more night. We're heading down the Flontar River. All the ironsides and some of the longboats." She smiled, and Vael felt her body tremble slightly at the look sent her way. Like a predator sizing up prey.

The two had been on several dates the past few months. Vael initiated it by asking after a full council meeting, and to her pleasant surprise, Naila agreed. It was just drinks, and then they had made it a routine to meet up after the full council meetings. Well, Vael thought they were dates. She wasn't sure if Naila felt the same, as they mostly talked about gossip from around the town. The past two, however, Vael had asked a few questions regarding Naila's upbringing.

Vael didn't want to screw this up, so she had been very cautious in her approach and didn't push too hard too fast for anything to happen. "Do you want to do anything to celebrate before going?" Vael asked.

"Just spend some time relaxing. Maybe go for a dip in the hot springs up the mountain," she replied as she gestured toward Shiverburn Summit. Lyn had created a series of hot springs partially up the volcano, and they were quite popular throughout the winter.

Vael giggled and nodded. "Sounds fun." She took a sip of the sweet, slightly acrid wine and grimaced.

Naila laughed and slapped her thigh. "You'll get used to the taste."

Vael nodded and put on a smile despite the desire she had to spit out the wine. But if she drinks wine…I need to drink wine, too. She took another sip and forced it down. "Do you have siblings?"

Naila shook her head. "Nope. I'm an only child. You?"

"My brother."

"Right, the twin. He's handsome. And I heard he's partnered with the Shadowstalker. Lucky guy, that Bolvon."

"Yeah…" Vael took a sip of the drink. She'd been trying to feel out which way Naila "leaned" when it came to her preferences in partners. That comment lent her toward thinking the admiral was not interested. At least I tried to meet someone and made a new friend.

"I bet he's an interesting bed companion." She winked at Vael. "You know…I also heard that you and your brother have slept with Empress Rivers."

Vael took a big gulp of the wine and felt the slight buzz beginning to settle in. "Yes. Gael and I have bed chambers next to hers."

"Ah, the empress is a fine woman. Those claws tracing down your skin send a shiver unlike anything else."

Vael's ears perked up at that. "You've slept with her?"

Naila giggled and nodded. "Yes. When she visited the Arin Isle and couldn't sleep. Those horns are so sensitive; you can just grab them like a ship's wheel, and she turns into a gibbering mess. They're great for forcing her into certain positions. 'Love handles', I called them. Did you know she can turn her tongue into a long, serpentine one? It's fantastic."

Vael felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Well now I know she's into women. "She let you take a dominant position?"

"Why, does she not with you?"

Vael shrugged. "It depends, I suppose. It's different each time."

Naila nodded. "She called herself a…switch? And after, she referred to me as a dominant. Whatever that means." She took a sip of her wine and put her legs back down, leaning forward on the table with her elbows. "Indulge me…you asked me to grab drinks those months ago because you're interested in me, right?"

"I…erm…" Vael sheepishly nodded.

"And you've just been trying to figure out if I am already partnered, or if I prefer men. Right?"

"Yes." Guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought I was.

Naila got up, walked around the table, and lifted Vael up over her shoulder as she grabbed the bottle of wine with her other hand. "Come on, you, let's get to those hot springs. I feel like a good soak." She used the hand carrying Vael to caress her inner thigh, and that left Vael with no doubt as to what Naila intended. The chill that went down the slim, Duskari woman's body was almost too much to bear.

"Are you—"

"You've been staring at me in every council session. Don't think I haven't noticed." She began the ascent, still carrying Vael, and began going up the stairs to the hot springs. "And these small occasions out for drinks, I've seen you squirming in your seat. A ship's captain has to be able to read the smallest of signs." She took a swig of the wine and then handed the bottle to Vael.

The Duskari woman grabbed the offered bottle and then nearly dropped it as she felt Naila's hands rubbing her ample bottom. "Eep!"

Naila laughed. "You think Empress Rivers put you through the wringer in the bed? Oh, you're going to be in for a treat."

Vael felt a bubbling burst of energy inside. She'd been looking for companionship outside of Lyn's bed. But she had more investigating to do before she would let herself submit entirely to this attractive Ari's ministrations.

Naila set her down as they arrived at the hot springs. Several partitions of polished obsidian were erected, separating out several circular pools to provide privacy. Wooden doors were placed adjacent to provide for privacy, and Naila pushed Vael to one of the larger circles. Thankfully, this early in the evening, the hot springs were fairly empty, and she only spotted a handful of other people going about.

Once they were inside the small, walled, circular pool, Naila closed the door and began to disrobe. Vael's eyes were glued to the woman. The bronze, tanned skin was consistent across her whole body, and she was muscular. As muscular as Gael, but in a feminine way. "You joining me?" she asked as she jumped into the hot spring.

Vael quickly disrobed and walked down the small set of stairs into the hot spring, taking in all of Naila's beautiful form as the two sank down into the hot waters. Naila sat next to Vael on the smooth, polished obsidian bench underwater and gripped Vael's thigh like a vise – firm but in control. The larger woman gently cupped Vael's chin and brought her in for a kiss, and the two lost themselves in the heat of the hot springs and the moment, hands exploring each other's bodies.

Stellas went into the archive and looked around for Thomas. Where in the abyss is he? She had arms full of books and went to one of the tables, depositing her load and setting them out for easy viewing. "Thomas?" she asked aloud in Vharthonian, her voice reverberating slightly in the large room. They had taken to speaking the language of her people when it was just the two of them.

"One minute!" The muffled voice came from somewhere…behind one of the bookshelves.

Stellas walked over and peered across the shelves, spotting one book that stood a little more rigid. Gripping it, she pulled, and she heard a click as the bookshelf swung open toward her, revealing a small study. The shelves in this room were stocked with parchment of all kinds and vials upon vials of ink. A small, glowing lantern hung up in the center of the small space, and Thomas sat at a writing desk.

He looked back to her. "Oh, you found my writing room. Good eye."

"Wasn't that hard to find," Stellas quipped as she walked into the tight space. "Why have this?"

"I'm busy and filling a lot of roles in the empire now; I just need a getaway to be alone with my thoughts. It's quiet and no one bothers me." He finished scribbling something, and Stellas peered over his shoulder. She spied a header of a new chapter. The Summoning.

"What's it about?"

"I'm writing a history of my time on Ghomar. Sort of like a diary that can eventually be used as a historical reference text." He smiled and stood up. "Mind us heading back to the main room? It's a bit cramped in here."

Stellas acquiesced, and the two left the hidden chamber. Thomas closed the bookshelf behind him and walked over to the table that she had left the tomes on. "What was life like back where you came from?" Stellas asked.

Thomas stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. His demeanor shifted to one of intense criticism, his glare boring into her innermost being. "Why do you want to know that?"

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"Academic curiosity," she replied as she went to the table and pulled up a chair.

"Ah. Well, I suppose there's not much harm in that." He pulled up a chair as well. "The place I come from is called Earth. And before you comment, yes, I know we refer to the ground under our feet as earth as well. Our progenitors were not the most inventive with naming conventions."

Stellas nodded. "I was going to say, it seems uninventive."

"Well, unlike Ghomar, Earth only has Humans. We don't have different races in the sense that Ghomar does – technically we should call them species, but, well…anyways, we still categorize ourselves racially based upon skin coloration, country of origin, and other minutiae. I'm called Caucasian; fair skin and I trace my heritage to the northern regions of an area called Europe."

"And that's where you're from?"

"No. My ancestors moved to a place called the United States of America. Think of it like a kingdom, with states underneath acting like duchies."

"Were you a scholar there as well?"

"Hardly. There, we are students from a young age to the near peak of our young adulthood."

"That must mean, surely, that your populace is very advanced and intelligent."

"You'd think that, but most people did not care much for the free education they received. Many of the heroes who were summoned with me, included. Plus, propaganda had a strong hold on many in the populace, and the rich oligarchs that controlled much of the resources around the world by pitting people against each other – nation against nation, tribal-based mentality."

Stellas scoffed. "That's just stupid. Your realm had the chance to make everyone a learned scholar? Imagine the possibilities of what could be accomplished!"

Thomas nodded and his mood shifted to one of…regret. "You're right. The whole world could have advanced in a way that would have ensured our longevity. Instead, we ruined the planet." He looked up to Stellas and flashed a slight, wan smile. "That's why I'm all in on Lyn's empire. We have the chance to have an omnipotent being helm the world in a single, unified vision. Someone who can rule the entirety of Ghomar and prevent the fighting that ripped my home world apart." He looked wistful. "Someone who would listen to my sage advice…So we don't make the same mistakes. And maybe…maybe even go back to fix our home world."

Stellas nodded and digested what he said as the former Knowledge hero began flipping through the books she had brought and made small notations on pages, muttering to himself as he worked. "Could you go back?"

"Oh, we could. I figured out how to do cross-world summoning years ago. But there are risks. It's never been done. We don't know what will happen. In Lyn's case, she woke up the same day we were all summoned, had her Scout core still, and the newly acquired Destroyer core from her slaying of the Demonic Dragon and unconscious consumption."

Wait…Lyn comes from this other world? That was a revelation to Stellas. She was the Scout hero in Thomas's summoning cycle? Stellas racked her brain for any memory of the Scout hero, but all that met her was a weird blur. Not now, ask her, yourself, later. It did not look like Thomas noticed his slip. Probably due to him enjoying my company. "Is there a time dilation in cross-world summoning?"

"Seems like it. We'd have to do extensive tests and be willing to wait years if not decades to see results. The difference in time between our first summoning, and Lyn self-summoning herself after her return to Earth…put it this way, for her, two hours passed. For us, ten years passed."

Stellas leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "That is inconvenient."

Thomas nodded and looked up from his notations. "I've gone through every conceivable version of the summoning spell, many considerations with Misty's input included, and there's no way around the time dilation effect. There are so many unknown variables."

"What about a bridge?"

"Hmm?"

"Instead of a summoning external spell that draws a subject to a location…why not create a bridge between the two worlds? An inscription that can be constantly fueled. Theoretically, it would work."

"We don't know how physics – the rules of the world – would interact with Ghomar's. For example, Earth does not have mana cores. Ghomar does. We know that someone with a powerful enough mana core keeps it in the transfer, and they can use spells. But that could be an outlier. And we know that Humans summoned from Earth to Ghomar do not have mana cores by default."

"Then we just need a strong, stable enough spell to link the two worlds and have a built-in shifting spell to accommodate changes between the two worlds."

"I…" Thomas narrowed his gaze before his eyes went wide. He spoke rapidly. "Holy shit. You might be onto something. Shifting is so mana intensive that I hadn't thought of that…but you'd have to have the inscribed item cause a permanent effect on those that are passing from one world to the other. Along with some type of stabilization spell effect—" He paused and stared at her. "Why are you so interested in going to Earth?"

"It's a world with new learning," Stellas stated plainly. "You've taught me so much about Elenthir, and I know you're an amazing teacher…but by your own admission, you weren't even a scholar on your world. That means a true scholar from your world, an academian, would be capable of teaching me so much."

Thomas nodded. "I understand."

"And," Stellas continued, "Lyn is going to rule all of Ghomar. Why not also Earth, after?"

Thomas froze in place. "What?"

"Once she has every hero core, she will have all the power of Raevan and Aelor. You've said it yourself, that prophecy the Elenthians wrote about leads to no other real conclusion – Lyn will ascend to become the singular deity of this world. Well, that level of omnipotence would lead one to believe that opening such a bridge between worlds would be an inconsequential act. And we know a powerful enough mana core is still capable of spells in your home world. This implies that Lyn would be able to not only create a tunnel but enact world-changing spells. Mind spells that could prevent all war and force all people into peace and harmony."

Thomas took a deep breath before shaking his head. "That's not Lyn. She's not the type of person to control people through mind spells."

"Maybe not the old Lyn—"

"No." Thomas stood up and leaned forward, both hands on the table. "Lyn is not like Cecily. Even this new Lyn. Controlling people through spells is not something she would do. Fear? Yes. Threats of violence? Yes. Actual violence? Yes. But she's not the type of person who would strip free will from a person."

"Is she not already doing so with criminals?"

"That's different," Thomas replied. "She's not stripping their free will…just removing the negative behavior."

"Then what I propose is not so different."

Thomas went silent as he stared down at the pages on the table. There was a tense silence between the two. Thomas took a deep breath in and stood up straight. "It is a moot point right now. The war against Valagonia must be finished, and Lyn must consume Cecily's, Brad's and Gina's cores."

Stellas nodded and looked down at the pages. There's so much knowledge out there, waiting for me. She looked up at Thomas who was staring at the pages as well, lost in thought. And now that I know that Empress Rivers comes from this Earth…I have leverage.

Stellas knew she couldn't use blackmail – the fact that her memory of the Scout hero was blurred was extremely similar to when she had subjected herself to a memory manipulation spell to block out a bad memory from her childhood. Plus, she knew that if she threatened Lyn in some way…it would make her an enemy.

I must use my knowledge that Thomas has imparted here and rely on any possible lingering feelings she has for her past world. That, or I can appeal to her sense of conquest and righteousness. Convince her that invading the world she originates from is the "right" course of action to take.

Stellas picked up her quill and dipped it into an ink well, scrawling notes in the margins of the tome.

Brad arrived at James's camp in the evening and was shown to the king's tent, arrayed four miles away from the Azure Divide – well out of range of Cecily's cannons on the opposite shore. He was shown in and told to wait as James was out inspecting the troops.

He sat on one of the wooden chairs that was covered in furs. Okay, Brad. You got this. He took a deep breath and gripped his thighs, squeezing the muscle tightly. He had spent the seven months leading up to this war performing his duties and building up plentiful medicinal and alchemical supplies, including creative body-enhancing substances in bulk for the soldiers serving Lyn.

But he had also been training. Working out. Getting back to the prime of his youth with the help of alchemical substances. Body enhancing himself with Trisha's help. Training with Ben's boxers…getting ready for revenge. His plan to drug Cecily's population to foment dissent didn't work – she was able to quarantine too quickly, and people did not break quarantine which was highly unusual. He assumed she had slaughtered them all – which he was not expecting. The drug was virulent. She must have killed those infected. It's the only way it did not spread.

The tent flap opened behind him, and he felt the cool, night-time spring breeze billow through as James walked in. He flashed a dazzling smile. "Brad, it's been too long," he said in English.

Brad stood up and gave the man a hug. "It's been a while. Nine years."

James separated and gestured for Brad to sit as the tent flap closed, leaving the two heroes alone. "What brings you to the battlefield?"

"Revenge," Brad replied. "I'm here to get some payback."

James chuckled. "Never took you for a fighter."

"I need to get back at her." Brad delved into the history he had with Cecily, and into descriptive detail of what he suffered at her hands. As he continued talking, James's face morphed from a look of amusement to sheer horror.

As Brad finished, James let out a deep breath. "Fuck, man. That's…wow. You went through a lot."

Brad pulled out a flask of a brown powder. "I want revenge, and you're going to help me get it."

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James grabbed the flask and shook it slightly. "What's in this?"

"My magnum opus. Do not uncork it – flip it over." As James did so, the brown powder turned bright gold. "That is Powdered Death. We get a big wind spell blowing toward Cecily's army, chuck a bunch of this into the air, and it will infect those who breathe the particles. It will become inert after ten minutes, so no need to worry about it spreading in the atmosphere. And it will completely biodegrade in a day. It won't linger."

James set it down quickly. "What does it do?"

"Five minutes of being an asymptomatic carrier. After that, total organ failure. Every organ. It won't affect anyone who has not been subject to one of Cecily's mind spells. Death within seconds. Only for her forces. A tailored death plague."

"It seems…wrong to kill tens of thousands. But they are fanatics to Cecily's cause. Even if we routed them, they would regroup." He sighed. "I learned my lesson from the last time Khrelardia went to war with Valagonia. You remember?"

Brad nodded. "Yeah, after the Demonic Dragon's defeat. Cecily started a war of revenge, you fought Kory one on one, and you beat the fucker."

James nodded. "I could have just pushed for Cecily's head that day. She was there, watching my duel. I could have ended all of this in one fell swoop, killed her…but I thought that she could change."

"What is the plan, then?"

"Well, Lyn is going to be here tomorrow. She was going to make bridges and lead the vanguard, using a barrier spell to ensure cannons don't obliterate the front lines."

"Seems kind of reckless doing a headlong charge."

"We don't have a choice, really. Cecily's army outranges us."

Brad leaned back and sighed. "I can use the Powdered Death tonight. That will give us the ability to just march right on over the river tomorrow."

"Why didn't you use it before?"

Brad shook his head. "I've been working on it since I escaped from Cecilaria. It took six months to brew, and another two weeks to turn into the powdered form. I have the single dose. And…the development was kept secret. I'm not risking chemical warfare breaking out on Ghomar, especially when Lyn takes over and rules."

James sighed. "It would save Khrelardian lives. Very well, I'll sanction the use…and keep your secret brewing of it from Lyn. I'll-"

A messenger ran into the tent and knelt. "King Marshall, a report from our scouts!" he shouted in Khrelardian.

"Speak," James ordered.

"Princess Cecily has been spotted, Your Highness. She arrived this evening with an armed escort."

Brad felt his heart beat faster. The woman who tortured him, who took his manhood, who made his life a living hell was just across a river. He clenched his fists and stood up, grabbed the bottle, and left the tent. Now is my chance.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden container. Inside were several gum-based doses of a drug that would make him fully immune to mind spells. He popped one into his mouth and began chewing fervently, feeling the slightly minty flavor wash down his throat as his gaze narrowed to a smaller field of view. Every alchemical creation had some side effect. This one was thankfully very minor – as a decreased visual acuity wouldn't affect what he was about to do.

He made it to the river and began to cross it, slurping down a goop from a vial that turned his skin into that of a chameleon, letting him blend into his surroundings, with the downside that he felt itchy all over. But he pushed that discomfort to the back of his mind. After crossing the river, he took off his clothes, grabbed the large vial with Powdered Death, and sneaked into the camp. The bottle was slathered with the goopy, chameleon-esque coating from his body, and so it too was practically invisible. The sentries were vigilant, but they had no way to detect him.

He made it to the center of camp with ease and stood next to a tent, watching the pomp and circumstance before him play out. A stage had been built, and Cecily sat on a throne, rallying the troops with a rousing speech.

"And now that I have arrived, we shall crush our enemies! King Marshall and all the filthy Khrelardian, non-Human lovers will be obliterated by our might! Tomorrow, I will create the means to cross the river and engage them on the field of combat. Victory belongs to us!"

There were cheers, and Brad made his way to the largest cluster of troops he could squeeze amongst without drawing attention. As he got to the center of the group, he uncorked the bottle and whispered a spell. "Ortha lend breged / gwaew leutha galin." The powder flew out of the bottle and cascaded out in front of him – to an onlooker, it was as if dust was kicked up by a flurry of wind or the stomping of feet as men cheered.

He re-corked the bottle and made his way out of camp, back to his clothes, put them on, and waited behind some bushes as he waited for the disease-like poison to take effect.

Cecily waved to her men and sneezed slightly as the dust kicked up by the celebration wafted through the air. She snapped her fingers, and a servant fanned the odious substance away from her. "And with that, I have a special gift to all of you. Wonderful volunteers from the heartlands to satisfy your every desire." This elicited even more cheers from the men as Cecily stood up and left the stage.

She went down to her tent and coughed lightly, spitting out whatever dust clung to her throat. She went to the flagon and poured herself some wine. She sipped it slowly as she looked over the battle plans.

There were two main fords that used to have bridges. Those were destroyed after James took the throne. The fords only came up to the waist in one place, and the mid-torso in the other. It would be a trivial matter to raise up the earth and make a clear pathway for her army.

Cecily smiled as she heard the sounds of revelry and the slapping of flesh on flesh from outside. She had found some of the most eager young women who wanted to serve her kingdom fully, and she brought them here to the front of the war to be used by her soldiers. She ensured to properly use mind spells to make them more than eager participants. A thousand women and about two hundred men. A good amount for pleasure. Plus, the women will doubtless carry children from the night of debauchery – more future Valagonians.

As she looked over the reports from her spies amongst Khrelardia's ranks, she began to hear coughing and vomiting from outside. She felt rage boil up in her. "I told them no drinking to excess!" she shouted as she stormed out of the tent.

What she saw almost made her sick. People were puking up blood left and right – even her own queen's guard flanking the tent were on the ground, the front of their full plate armor covered in red. The stench of feces wafted through the air as men died. The women she brought were nude and dead in the dirt, blood seeping from their eyes, noses, and mouths. What the fuck happened?

She walked through her camp. Everywhere she looked she saw naught but death. She felt rage…and fear. What caused this? Could it be Lyn? She looked skyward, trying to spy any type of winged creature – but saw nothing. Is it something James did? She made for the river and looked across the water, seeing the twinkling of campfires in the distance. No, he's not underhanded. And this was too fast acting for something—

Then it hit her. Brad. He had escaped. He had been missing for months, and she had no report of him from any of her spies. But there was one place her spies were never able to penetrate. The Valley of the Volcano. Lyn is behind it, she thought. She had Brad brew up some army-killing, fast-acting poison and they spread it. She stomped her foot and screamed in frustration.

All her troops save for the garrisons were here. She would never be able to muster up an army in time, even if she conscripted every single able-bodied man and woman. She had one option.

She reached for and drew the dagger from her waist. A stiletto-style blade, meant for puncturing armor. Is'gon'raew, also known as Mind Spike. With it, she could amplify her mind spells. But it came at a cost.

It gave her complete and total control of the targets of the mind spell; she would be able to puppet them to her will. But it could only exert control for an hour, and it would leave the persons affected a vegetable. She rarely used the implement, as it was not practical – she would much rather have servants thralled to her for a lengthy period. With it, she could completely control James's army and force them to slaughter him. With it, she was able to completely pierce any mental defenses the target had.

There was one other downside. Using it would incapacitate her, and she had no one to guard her while she was out. She spotted a bunch of bushes near the river and shrugged. As good of a place as any. She went over and sat down on the cool, damp grass, hiding amongst the topmost bushes. The soft breeze touched her skin, and she smiled as she pointed the dagger at James's army and incanted her spell. "En ethiel le / bellas min / adlethad larthin / en la bereth."

She felt her prodigious mana churn within her torso before shooting down her arm and lancing out in a bright, vibrant pink hue out into the distance. It then exploded in a shower of magical energy that cascaded over the army in the distance.

She slumped forward, a prisoner in her own body, as she went into a null state. She could still feel and hear everything around her, but she was paralyzed.

A crunching noise came from her side, and she felt her heart begin to race as Brad's voice came from the right. "Did you like my present?"

You're fucking dead! Dead! I'll rip your arms off, then your legs, and cut your fucking ears and nose off!

She felt the dagger pulled from her hand. "Hmm…interesting knife. I also saw that spell you did. What did it do?"

Cecily smiled internally. Oh, you'll hear it soon enough. She felt a blow rock her from the side – shattering her cheek as she was sent sprawling into the mud on the riverbank.

"It doesn't matter," Brad growled. She felt herself lifted and able to breathe as the mud no longer blocked her mouth or nose. "I'm going to beat you to a pulp, and then when you're on the edge between life and death, I'm calling Lyn. She'll rip your core right out of you. What do you think of that?"

Cecily felt her heart race faster as the pain spread to her head. You wouldn't dare! I'm the ruler of Valagonia! She felt the sharp impact of a boot on her ribs, the cracking of bone forcing air out as the dull pain set in. She was moved again – lifted and then thrown down on her back. She felt something impact her spine, and the blow sent a jolt up her body.

"I've been waiting for this."

She felt the cool air on her skin as her clothes were ripped open, and despite being unable to see due to the mud caking her eyes, she knew she was laid nude by the soft breeze on her body. She felt a sharp cut on her arm and wanted to scream – but couldn't.

"I've thought of how many ways I could punish you. I've spent hours looking at Trisha's medical texts, learning how to inflict the most pain possible." She felt his warm breath on her ear as he whispered, "You think what you put me through was agony? You have no fucking idea."

A liquid was poured into her mouth, and her body was jostled in such a way that she reflexively swallowed the liquid. It heightened her senses, and she could feel everything with more vibrancy, as if the world had taken on a new, brighter hue. One filled with pain and misery as all of her injuries were amplified.

"I also made this nice elixir that makes every physical sensation double in potency. Every little feeling." He whispered in her ear, "You're going to suffer more than you ever thought possible."

She tried to scream and could not.

Dorian, Commander of Khrelardia's levies, shook his head to try to clear the buzzing noise from it. Looking around, he saw the men also shaking their heads as if trying to clear the noise.

He felt a single, compulsive instinct. One that screamed at him to respond. An order he had to follow, as if Aelor himself spoke to him and gave him a command that could not be disobeyed. Kill James Marshall.

The buzzing noise began to clear, and Dorian realized that it was overlapping repetitions of the same phrase. He had to obey these orders. He had no choice. Even though his subconscious was screaming at him to stop and not kill his king…his conscious body acted against his will. He was akin to a prisoner in his own form, and he drew his blade and ran toward James's tent along with the rest of the troops.

Just like ants swarming a predator threatening the colony, the whole encampment turned and charged for the king's tent. A group of men got there before Dorian and went inside. He heard King James shout and the clash of metal. The splash of red as the inside of the tent panels were coated in the substance.

The king stepped out in his night clothes, sword floating next to him and fighting with a will of its own. The king held two swords, one in each hand taken from the men he had slain, and he shouted as he held off the swarm of soldiers. "What's wrong? Snap out of it!"

Dorian got to his king and began raining blows down on his commander. He barely ducked the swing of the floating blade before James cut into his arm. Dorian tackled the man and began ramming his own head into the hero's face, the Ironhide imbued skin not breaking under the assault.

Dorian kept trying to kill the king, and soon enough the rest of the men swarmed and began raining blows down on the man. None were mana-charging their weapons, and so they couldn't pierce his skin. But with enough impact they could pulverize his insides.

The floating sword flew to his grip, and Dorian went flying, catapulted across the terrain as he landed in a cluster of troops that broke his fall. An enormous roar echoed from James's tent, and when Dorian pushed himself up to continue his assault, he saw a bright, white dragon with azure claws and horns. The creature raised its head and let out a tremendous roar before it angled the maw down and opened its colossal jaws.

Men vanished in a surge of impossibly bright light that shone like a sun brought down to the ground. Dorian's vision went white, and he felt the searing heat of holy radiance before all went dark.

Finding himself in control of his body once more, he stood up and blinked his vision clear. He was in a dark room, with a doorway in front of him. Above the door he saw the name of his world. ghomar. Walking forward, he went through the open door and entered the soft, gentle light.

Brad looked back to the Khrelardian lines across the river as the light flared in the corner of his eye. What's going on over there? He gripped his amulet and tried to contact James. "Hey, what's going on?"

A deep, draconic voice answered him. "Cecily must have done something! The men have turned on me. I have to run; there's too many!" The dragon tried to take off, but men jumped onto its wings and kept it pinned. "Fuck!"

Brad cursed under his breath and looked down at the still-paralyzed Cecily. He had gone to work on her over the past ten minutes, inflicting massive amounts of pain if the rivulets of tears streaming from her eyes were anything to go by.

He knew all the cuts she had used against him, having memorized everything she had done to him all those years ago. Every injury she had inflicted on him he had revisited on her. Save for the genital mutilation – he had instead removed her breasts as that was the closest thing he could think of.

The carving of the woman that made his life a living hell was not something he did out of any type of sadistic delight. No, this was justice. A revisiting of a fraction of her atrocities that she had inflicted not just on Brad, but on the countless hundreds if not thousands she had personally tortured to death to harvest their mana cores. He felt some satisfaction at having obtained a degree of revenge, but it was not fulfilling.

James was in trouble, and Brad knew he could get someone to help in fighting an army. Not him – no way, he had no means to help. But someone else. Grabbing the amulet, he focused on Lyn. "You need to get to me right now."

He heard a groan of someone woken from sleep. "Why?"

"I have Cecily. And James needs help. I'll explain when you're here. I'm on the Azure Divide, near the north for—"

Her tone shifted immediately, "Be right there. Tracking your amulet now."

She can do that? Brad thought. A split-second later a flash of blue flared across his sight, and Lyn was standing next to him. He jumped out of panic and fell back onto his ass. "How'd you find me?"

"I can track any amulet with my master one," Lyn stated as she knelt next to Cecily. "Should I just harvest her outright?"

"Do you think she deserves any less?"

Lyn sighed. "No. She deserves death for what she did you to and Thomas. But…we do have mana-suppressing cells back in Lynhold, just like what is at Kor's Hold." She looked up to Brad. "What do you want? Sure, she hurt Thomas…but you suffered worse. Her fate is in your hands."

Brad silently contemplated. "Give me a bit to think. I'll keep an eye on her." He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. "James needs your help. Cecily thralled the army."

Lyn seemed taken off guard. "How?"

Brad shrugged. "Maybe this?" He produced the dagger and handed it to Lyn.

"Damn," she muttered. "I didn't know she had an artifact like this." She tapped it to Cataclysm's hilt socketed on her hip, and the blade vanished. Wings sprouted from her back, and she flew off toward Khrelardia's lines, enormous, lava-imbued blade gripped in her clawed hands as she became a blue comet streaking across the sky.

Brad faced Cecily and pondered. What to do with you? Death or torture for the rest of your miserable life?

James raked his claws left and right as he spun in circles. Men were pummeling him from all sides, and enough had clambered atop his wings that he couldn't take off and fly away. He swept his tail from side to side, the colossal appendage sending men flying away.

He could feel the drain on his mana – the artifact sword Brightguard's inscription might have a minuscule mana cost, but he could feel the steady decrease. He knew if he used another breath weapon to buy space, he would only have a few seconds of the transformation. That wasn't enough time to fly up and get clear of the army.

A storm of blue flames erupted around him, and men screamed as they were incinerated in the blink of an eye. The flames erupted higher and higher, blocking all vision and access to him. He felt the heat, and it would have burned him to a crisp if not for his body enhancement so many years ago. He used the opening to take flight and get up above the army. He could make out a fast, black and blue shape thanks to his enhanced vision.

Lyn flew up next to him and flapped next to his head. A Humanoid form with dragon wings. He could hear the genuine sorrow in her voice. "I'm so, so sorry, James."

"I'll process later. What do we do now?" he asked as he pushed aside all emotion as the height of combat adrenaline was coursing through his body.

"They'll go into a vegetative state in an hour. But there's no saving them. I'm sorry. We can take care of them, but eighty-thousand soldiers needing round-the-clock care…it's your call because it falls on your kingdom's shoulders. The Eternal Empire will help, of course, but this is your decision."

James felt a knot rise in his stomach. There was no real choice here. Getting people here to carry the levies back, let alone keeping them alive in a coma for years upon years…it was not feasible. "Do what you must. End them quickly, that's all I ask. I'm heading back to Kor's Hold."

Lyn nodded. "Use the mirror and call me if you need to." She descended and vanished into the blur of bodies, the only indication of her being present the arcing blue flames from the sword as she cut into the masses.

I'm sorry, he thought as he felt the tremendous sorrow well up within. Tens of thousands of families were about to lose their fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins…it struck him to his center. The pointless violence all because Cecily held a grudge from years ago. I hope you burn in hell.

Lyn did not relish the idea of killing Khrelardia's troops. She treated it like a job, mechanically carving away at the mass of soldiers that swarmed…past her. What in the fuck? She carved into them as they began chasing the flying dragon overland. Oh, Cecily commanded them to kill James. Shit.

She could manifest a large-scale spell to wipe all of them out in a single blast…but she wanted to reserve mana in case she had to deal with Cecily and some weird backup the woman might have. "En ethiel i thalion min nin / i beleg bregol en-ngurth / na garo nin rhaw / a adlethad ha na / i beleg nadhras sui ar Ghomar." She felt her body shift and expand as she turned into the draconic form.

But, she willed herself to change coloration – to match that of James's draconic form. And…it worked like a charm. The army wheeled around and swarmed toward her; their simple, thralled minds not able to discern that this dragon was different from the one James had transformed into.

They swarmed her like ants on a hill, stabbing down into her scales. The weapons pinged off or completely shattered, and those whose weapons failed them struck at her with their fists and feet, breaking those as well.

"Come on then!" she roared out as she began clawing with massive sweeps, spinning in place to use the centrifugal force to throw men off. She swung her tail like a massive club, crushing bodies and flinging corpses into the distance to land with a sickening crunch among the still-swarming mass of soldiers. She could feel the battle-lust of the Berserker core rising up in her chest, a red-hot heat starkly different from the burn of the Destroyer core.

Lashing out with her claws to get some distance she lifted off and flew above the soldiers, circling as she gained altitude. Fucking burn! she thought as she opened her maw and unleashed a torrent of blue lava upon the landscape. The violent outpouring of superheated, molten rocks poured out from her monstrous, gaping jaws and splattered onto the ground before spreading out. The pyroclastic flow of destructive energy melted the soldiers from the legs down, causing them to fall forward into the substance as they perished.

She flew across the battlefield, unleashing her torrential outpouring as her mana slowly depleted. But she was able to completely obliterate the army, and flapped in place as she scanned for movement, closing off the flow of power. And just like that, I've destroyed an army.

It was easy, as expected. She knew that there was little risk, even when outnumbered to such an extent, due to the sheer power difference. None on Ghomar can resist me, she thought.

The bodies lay still, and a calm silence descended over the whole area. Lyn took in a shaking breath as she angled a descent toward Brad on the far side of the river, gliding as she let all spells for combat fade. Landing next to him, she looked Cecily over with the pink-hued sight of the Healer core. She was alive and other than the mutilation was in excellent health. "It's done," she muttered as she glanced at Brad who was staring at the nude, eviscerated woman. "Wipe the mud from her eyes…I want her to see me."

Brad did so, and Cecily's eyes focused before going wide at seeing the enormous draconic form over her. "I decided," he replied as he stood up. "I want you to harvest her core. Incinerate her soul just like you did with Volio. She should never, ever come back."

Lyn nodded, craned her head over Cecily, and then reverted to her Duskari form. She placed her hand on Cecily's neck. Lyn could feel the pulse, the incredibly fast heartbeat under her claw. "I hate you," Lyn whispered softly as she slowly squeezed. "You made my life hell back on Earth."

She thought back to the locked-in-jars memories, filing through them with perfect acuity thanks to the Knowledge core. "You might not remember, but you used to always make fun of me in the girl's locker room. You called me the 'town bicycle' because I slept around with people. Well guess what? That was the only way I could exert some control over my life. If you had bothered to talk to me at all, you would know what I went through. Instead, you picked on me. You and the other girls. You've never been raped by your father. And if you had bothered to talk to me? You'd know that my hypersexuality was how I could control just one aspect of my piss-poor existence."

Lyn squeezed tighter. "And then we got here…Ghomar was my second chance at life. And you fucked that up also. As soon as you knew the Scout core was considered the weakest…you narrowed in on it. You targeted me, and I was practically an outcast. You want to know why I never stuck around town and was constantly improving myself? I couldn't spend a single day in a town without some fucking imbecile telling me how useless I was to the heroes. You caused that."

"Lyn…" Brad said softly. She glanced back at him. "I…didn't know that was why you did it."

Lyn shook her head, not feeling any emotion, but simply wanting to provide her justification to the bitch she was about to kill. To show, even more, that she was in the right. "One of the reasons was because this asshole painted me as the reason for all the hero's faults. I was the scapegoat." She turned back to Cecily and squeezed even harder, feeling the air flow cut off as Cecily tried to breathe. "Now you use non-Humans as your scapegoat. Well guess what? This non-Human is going to squeeze the life out of you. And then, I'm going to annihilate your soul." She saw the silent scream behind Cecily's eyes. The rage. The fear. A gaze of horror and desperation. "Nothing will exist for you. This is your end."

She squeezed down slowly, making sure that Cecily felt the slow, inexorable grip of her death. Finally, she clamped her claws together and decapitated the woman with the power of her crushing motion, before she reached down into her chest and pulled out the Ruler core, crushing it and pushing it down her mana channels.

Incinerate her soul, she thought. She willed. And she felt the Destroyer core respond as it consumed, devoured, and tried to rip apart the mana core.

Cecily gasped as she woke up in a black space. Before her were three doors. ghomar, earth, and backup. She felt a heat behind her, and glancing back saw surging, blue lava racing out of the blackness.

A face appeared, Lyn's face. A beautiful, regal, Duskari woman with draconic features. The maw shifted to that of a full dragon as it lashed forward.

Cecily scrambled to the doors and only saw one open. backup. The other two were closed. She launched herself through the door and entered a black void. Looking back, she saw the lava stop at the door, and heard a tremendous roar before that aperture vanished.

Time passed. An unknown amount of time. But Cecily was able to be alone with her thoughts. The absence of her Ruler core to provide assurances of her actions – past or present, let her reflect.

She had made Lyn's life a living hell, but the bitch deserved it. She slept with all the boys back on Earth and kept the girls from forming any real boyfriend/girlfriend relationships because of her sluttiness.

When they got to Ghomar, she was always off doing something, and when something went wrong of course Cecily would shift the blame. She couldn't be blamed for anything. She was perfect.

Eventually, she saw a pair of lights. Then she took a deep breath and woke up on a sumptuously soft bed. The mage from Lynhold, her thrall, leaned over her. "Princess Cecily, are you back?" she asked in Shereldian.

Cecily sat up and gestured for water. The woman brought some over, and she drank greedily. "I'm alive," she said softly. Her voice was younger, slightly "cuter" but carrying less authority. She focused on her mana core and felt the pulsating power present…but it felt different. She did not hear the voice of the Ruler core whispering instructions to her.

"I don't have my Ruler core," she whispered to herself in English.

"Sorry, my lady?"

Cecily swapped back to Shereldian. "Draw a bath. Prepare the council. We have work to do." And I only have a dungeon core…time for my theory to be put to the test.

Lyn knew what the Ruler core would do, thanks to the times Cecily bragged about it.

"Right before I make a decision, I get a neat inner voice that either gives me a positive feeling or a negative one. And it has never led me wrong."

Lyn closed her eyes and focused on her Destroyer core, and it…bubbled in an odd way. Something felt "off." Wrong. She looked at Brad. "I have a fucking bad feeling." Her body did what Lawrence's did, turning to dust. Fuck.

"How?"

"I don't think Cecily was annihilated."

"What makes you say that?"

Lyn closed her eyes and focused wholly on her mana core, trying to perceive what had happened. She visualized the dark space where she spoke with Raevan and Yheron, and to her surprise, found herself in that dark space. The two entities formed near her.

"Fucking bitch got away," Yheron growled in her mind.

"It's alright," Raevan said, also in her mind. "She had a backup, but that means she is much weaker. We have the Ruler core, now."

Lyn muttered, "So, she escaped?"

"It appears so," Raevan stated. "She had a backup door like what Thomas and Lawrence described in their post-death experience. The other two were closed off, as you willed. If not for her backup…your will would have been done." She shook her head. "She will regroup."

"She still has forces to levy," Yheron stated. "Memory-manipulated masses. I would expect a mass conscription, centered on Cecilaria. My advice is to go there right now and crush her."

"I can't," Lyn replied. "I don't know what she is capable of. Even more so now. If she had a backup body, she could have other contingencies planned. I wonder how she pulled that off? Thomas took all the knowledge from the ruins."

"What about what was on the walls?" Raevan asked. "You did not burn the Ruins of Elent to the ground."

"Could she have reverse-engineered it?" Lyn replied.

"Perhaps," Raevan said solemnly. "If she had rubbings made, perhaps the Elenthian words were interpreted and mixed. I would not expect her backup to be the same quality as Thomas's creations, but it served its purpose."

Ly nodded. "Then we need to take the fight to her. First, we'll crush their navy. Then, encircle them. Khrelardia is out of the fight, so that means we must rely on our own forces, and those of Trisk."

Yheron harrumphed. "Fine. Do not listen to my advice."

"What would you have me do? Fly into danger without a clue of what awaits me?"

Yheron peered at her with one enormous eye. "You are two mana cores away from acquiring them all. All that remains is the Alchemist and Oracle. One is here with us, and the other is a single dungeon away if you signal it. Acquire the remaining dungeon cores, use the power of the Oracle to peer at your foe…and then choose the precise moment to strike."

Raevan cupped Lyn's chin and pulled her to face her. "Go with what your heart tells you. But Yheron's advice is sound." She glanced sideways at the dragon, "Maybe not the use of the Oracle core. Seeing all possible futures can blind you to the path you should take."

The blackness receded, and Lyn found herself back in her body. Brad was staring at her expectantly. "You okay?"

Lyn nodded. "Yeah. How long was I out?"

"What do you mean? It's been a few seconds."

Good. Talking to…my other selves isn't time consuming. She looked down at the ashes of Cecily's body – the indicator that she did, indeed, have a backup body. "Brad…I need your hero core."

The Alchemist hero sighed and nodded as his shoulders slumped. "I figured you'd be asking sooner or later." He cracked a smile. "You're still fine if I keep running the pharmaceutical industry, right?"

Lyn nodded as she reached into the storage choker and pulled out a wooden orb holding a dungeon core, and the tube inscribed device. "Lie down, take off your shirt."

Brad chuckled and did as he was told. "Reminds me of back before we were summoned. Remember?"

Lyn giggled and nodded. "God, you fumbled so fucking much. But you really took your time and were gentle. And you knew the right angles. I swear, you potheads and your porn consumption."

Brad grinned sheepishly. "If you ever want a repeat performance, this new prosthetic lets me go all night."

"Maybe I will take you up on that," Lyn said with a devilish grin as she placed the device against his chest. "Here we go. You'll feel some pain."

"Bitch, I've dealt with more of that than you know."

Lyn channeled her mana into the device and felt the familiar thump as Brad's face contorted before relaxing. She pulled the Alchemist core out of the socket and felt the bubbling, almost soup-like consistency against her claw. She squeezed it and fed it down her mana channel into the inferno that was her Destroyer core. "What's it do?"

Brad sat up and took a deep breath before pulling on his clothes, producing a cigar from a pouch, and using a simple incantation to light it. "First. Ow… It will let you make body-enhancing substances quickly with unmatched quality. You can also change the properties of tinctures, potions, and the like by altering their potency, duration…all types of good shit. Also, you can "store" spells – but you're basically containing and reserving that bit of mana. I never found a good use for that."

Lyn reached down and helped him up. "Now…back home?" she asked.

Brad nodded. "I got my revenge. You can get the final kill…but I'm more than satisfied."

"Oh, one more thing." She gestured to the camp of Valagonia, littered with corpses. "We have to take all of the firearms and cannons. I'll open up a storage dimension, and we'll load it all in."

Brad nodded. "Well, I can put these muscles to some use. Just like I've been using that new dick. Did you know that the inscription does vibration and temperature?"

Lyn lightly shoved her shoulder into him and chuckled. "You are always good at making a dark situation a bit brighter. Thank you."

Brad shrugged. "It was a brag. If you ever want to try…" He made a suggestive motion with his finger and hand.

Lyn shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

"And you're a promiscuous person. I'm surprised you're not jumping on the offer."

"Later. We have work to do. Let's get to it."

James arrived back in Kor's Hold and immediately summoned his council, telling them what happened. There was shouting, blame cast his direction, and ultimately an acceptance of the losses. It was a tense two hours of shouting and consternation.

"This will impact the planting season," his minister of agriculture stated. "We will have to rely on trade to provide—"

James held up his hand. "We have a benefactor now. I'll speak with Empress Rivers. She will ensure that our people do not go hungry. Robust food programs were one of her requirements for vassalization, after all."

He gripped his hands together tightly and felt sick to his stomach. "I…I'm sorry. I had no idea that Cecily was capable of such a feat. If I knew, I would have never taken our forces so close."

His master of whispers stood up. "You tried to protect Khrelardia. Thank Aelor for Empress Rivers' intervention. If we lost you, then the duchies would be fighting over the throne." He turned to the other councilors. "If we do not downplay this tragedy then we will have rebellion."

He nodded and stood up. "I am exhausted. I'll retire for the night. Tomorrow, we have to do damage control. I will not let this kingdom fall into civil war." He gulped down the sickness he felt working its way up his gullet. "If that happens…Empress Rivers may come down with a firm fist and take full, direct control, instead of ruling with the gentle touch she has thus far."

There were murmurs of assent around the table, and James left to his royal apartment with the king's guards who had stayed behind in tow. He went to the restroom and immediately threw up into the latrine, crying as he vomited at what he had done. He had killed his own soldiers, his commanders, his allies. People who trusted him with his life.

Even with the Paragon core…I wouldn't have been able to do anything. He wiped his mouth and threw off his clothing and armor. "Guard!" he shouted.

One of the men burst into the room, weapon at the ready, and paused when he saw no danger immediately apparent. "Your Highness?"

James turned to the man. "I want one of you stationed at the balcony, and one of you on the inside of the door to my chambers." He touched the inscription on the tub, and it filled with hot water. He sank into it and tried to burn away the memories of that night. He felt tears well up and he wept as the water washed the tears away. I'm sorry you all died…