With the show that was almost crashing the train behind them the group would decide that it was best to walk the rest of the distance to the capital. Heavens knew how long it would take for a repair crew to fix the damages they caused but it would also be quite difficult to explain what exactly they were doing at the time without alerting the king.
“That was certainly a… Bold move.” Osmir said to break the silence. The train was far behind them at this point and all that was ahead of them was what felt like an endless sea of trees within the forest.
“It got the job done,” Alister tersely responded.
It seemed Swiss was prepared for almost any situation given she managed to produce a pair of identical shoes for him after some digging around within her runes. It always was a thought that occurred to Owen that he would love to see what it looked like inside those runes. Did she have some kind of filing system? Was it neat? Could she even see inside of it?
All questions for later as at the moment Alister decided to speak up. “When we make it to the city we head directly to the castle. We meet with the king and offer the blessing of the spire as a new ruler and then we investigate the theory of Psychopomps.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Osmir responded.
“Wait a moment…” Owen said. Stopping in his tracks something was off. The forest was often a source of various scents that would overwhelm his heightened sense of smell but he could make out that of leather and steel. “Someone is watching us.”
He had hoped that was enough to force them out of hiding but it did cause them to shift. His hearing may not have been as strong as his sense of taste and smell but even he could still hear the several sets of movement within the darkness of the trees.
They were surrounded.
Alister sighed, rubbing at his temple and shouting “There is no use hiding, we know you are all there!”
It wouldn’t be surprising if those back at the train had heard such a yell. It at least did its job as silhouettes became visible from the darkness of the woods surrounding them. It was hard to tell just how many there were given, many kept hidden in the shrubbery and darkness.
They were human. Given the type of studded leather armour and helmets implied they were from across the newly formed border.
Counting the weapons they carried there were few spears and a majority of the bandits touted much more technically difficult weapons such as sabres and bows. These weren’t just peasants fighting to survive. This was a trained militia.
“We can make this quick and easy.” A bandit shouted at them. Owen assumed he was the leader given he was the only one with a set of boiled leather armour instead of studded. Carrying a shield in pair with a steel sword his face was covered by his helmet. “Drop all your goods and turn back.”
“And if I say no?” Alister asked. His tone implied he was irate but when wasn’t that the case.
The man was prepared for such a question. It seemed he had rehearsed the line with the conviction he said “Then we kill you and take it off your corpse!”
Silence hung in the air and the bandits may have assumed the group was intimidated because of that but Alister soon burst out laughing, wiping a tear from his eye.
Turning his back to the captain clearly sent a message that hit a sore spot given they all got ready to attack. Alister more than likely knew he would cause offence and to rub salt into the wound he put a hand on Owen’s shoulder and said “Looks like it’s your time to shine.”
This may be the moment one would assume that the bandit captain would say something along the lines of “How dare you mock us” or “You think sending some runt at us is a good idea?,” but they were quiet.
The others moved away from Owen and the captain rubbed at his neck. Owen noticed that it seemed to be a code of sorts given that the group stayed their grounds but got their weapons ready.
“I am pretty sure desertion of one's militia is punishable by death in Clove,” Owen stated, standing his ground at the intimidation tactic. “We could make quite a profit off of each and every one of your heads.”
His threat was seemingly ignored until a large shaking could be felt around them. The ground trembled as a figure approached from behind the captain. “War tends to limit one's options when in enemy territory,” the hulking figure said as the shadow became clearer. A man of incredible size pushed apart the trees with his very form. Owen felt it safe to assume this was the actual captain.
With greasy blonde hair and a beard that you may need hedge trimmers to cut he wore the bare minimum armour to cover his vitals given making a leather set for a man this huge must have taken enough materials for ten men. “Let’s just make this easy and be done with it. No one needs to die,” he threatened. In a regular circumstance this would be quite intimidating but Owen was no longer normal.
The dual hammers on his back backed up his claim as they were smeared with dried blood from the countless previous victims. Owen stood firm in his stance and stared the man down, tossing a comment to the group “Swiss. P. 23 please.”
“Got it, skinny,” she shouted back before she began to dig through her supplies, tossing it to him when she pulled it out.
Without breaking Eye contact with the giant Owen caught it and kept it held tightly in his right hand. “If no one needs to die, you can run now before this escalates.”
The giant was not impressed with such a claim. To attempt to intimidate Owen the giant clenched his fist and swung his arm to the side. Swinging directly over his men’s heads. His fist collided with the tree closest to him, causing it to shatter like glass with shards and splinters flying across the forest.
“If you are willing to lift your weapon, boy, you are willing to die.” The giant commented as Owen readied the bottle he held.
The other bandits may have covered themselves to avoid the shrapnel or moved out of the way, but the immortals stood steadfast. The giant was getting increasingly agitated but he composed himself, somewhat. Reaching for the dual giant hammers on his back he gave Owen time to back down.
Unholstering it from its hook he held one in each hand and pointed one towards Owen however once again he remained unmoved by the threat. Again, the giant seemed irate but he was cautious.
A glance to his men and back again let him make his decision “I don’t know who you are, son… Or how you came to hold such confidence, but I am going to have to do this the hard way.”
His footsteps echoed through the forest as each created an audible thud akin to a sack of potatoes hitting the ground. The size discrepancy was much more obvious once he stood directly in front of Owen, who needed to crane his neck up to look the man in the eyes.
“You asked for this.” Was what the giant said before he readied his hammers “Just try and dodge this one!”
Readying the hammers in a stance that kept one overhead and one to the side Owen could see the attack before it even began. He planned to swing from those directions in such a way that made it near impossible to dodge as one of them would catch him no matter what direction he moved due to their sheer size.
Owen remained unmoved until the hammer coming from the side impacted his chest. A grunt escaping with the sheer force of the impact. Pushing him backwards a few metres until the full force of the blow hit and he was sent flying backwards with enough force to slam not just against a nearby tree but straight through it.
With the sound of the tree collapsing and splinters flying everywhere in a similar fashion to the tree before it the giant stood victorious. Such a victory was short lived, however. Turning his attention back to the others he remained steadfast in his conviction “Now, are you willing to hand over what you have and back off peacefully?”
The bandits seemed unsure once they saw the group remained unphased. Surely anyone witnessing the death of a comrade would have some form of reaction but this group seemed heartless, even to a pack of bandits.
The group remained silent to the anger of the giant, however his attention was ripped away from them like a bandage forcibly removed from an open wound when he heard a loud groan from the dirt and dust the destroyed tree had kicked up.
Focusing on the scene before him his jaw fell when the tree began to shift and struggle before it was pushed off of Owen as simply as someone throwing a pillow to the side. Without as much as a word Owen rose from the wreckage, his tunic torn to shreds without a single scratch or bruise on his body.
“You are all gonna wear down my supply of clothing,” Swiss mumbled.
Owen approached again and the bandits clearly backed off as they prepared to flee from such a monster but the giant stood his ground and got his hammers ready once more. “I don’t know what kind of protection spell you have but it won't be enough for this next blow.”
Once again the human in boiled leather armour gave a hand gesture to the others that shifted their formation in the shadows. “Swiss, if you would. P.42.” Owen stated aloud.
What was tossed this time was a new tunic and a larger bottle filled with a colourless substance.
The giant stared down at him and raised his left hammer which had hit him directly in the chest moments ago only to find that the hammer had begun to bubble and rust in only a few short moments.
A quick look back to Owen revealed that he was no longer holding the first potion he had been preparing. The hammer began to almost melt away where the rust was eating which caused the giant to drop it. “I only need one!”
Using both hands he held up the remaining hammer and shouted “You won't survive this one!”
At that very moment Owen could feel something prick his neck. No doubt a dart from one of the bandits. Given the smell and numbness to the specific spot it bounced off of he could only surmise that this was a concoction made to halt the flow of magic.
Sadly they read the situation wrong as who would think to account for their opponent being some form of immortal. As quickly as the giant raised it, the hammer began to rapidly descend towards Owen with the intent to kill.
The crash could be heard for miles as the impact sent a shockwave through the forest that shook the trees and caused the men in the woods to stagger. Anyone else would be a fine red paste to such an attack which led to the giant feeling confident that he had killed him this time.
No words, only a jubilated laugh of triumph that was cut short when the dust settled to reveal Owen still standing in place with a single hand raised into the air that caught the impact of the hammer.
Fear spread among the men as they realised just what they were dealing with. Owen pulled his legs from the holes in the ground the impact created and tossed his hand to the side, sending the hammer out of the giant's hand and through his men who had to duck and cover to avoid being crushed.
Taking a step back, the quakes that followed the giant's boisterous attitude before had dampened to light taps.
Osmir stepped forward from the group once they cowered and opened his mouth to speak, however Owen stepped forward to meet the giant's stride and punched directly into his large knee.
The bone snapping cleanly sent a noise through the forest that caused the bandits to shudder and the giant to yell in pain. Buckling under the sudden shock he collapsed forward which caused the ground to buckle as his body collided with the dirt.
Owen approached once he had hit the ground and held out the second potion that had been given to him by Swiss. “What is that..?,” the bandit asked, a hint of terror in his voice.
Owen didn’t find the need to explain to him what it was and simply said “You raised your weapon. That means you are willing to die.”
There was no time for verbally begging, however Owen stared into the terrified eyes of the giant as he uncorked the solution and tossed it towards his face. Raising a hand, a simple click of the fingers and a spark was enough to ignite the highly volatile solution, causing a large explosion that engulfed the giant.
What was left was a charred corpse minus its head, causing the bandits to spread into a panic. “P 18!” He called out which led to another potion being tossed his way. Unlike the other two he uncorked the lid of this one and brought it to his lips, quickly drinking its contents.
Further and further the bandits got as he gulped down the burning contents of the phial.
As they began to fade into obscurity in the distance he finally finished and tossed the phial onto the ground, smashing it.
Suddenly he sprinted forward at such a speed that by the time the glass had shattered on the ground he had made it to the first group of bandits that were in his sights. His eyes filled with malice he opted to forgo weapons and drove his fist directly through the chest of his first victim.
Before the other three in the clump had time to process the loss of a comradde Owen grabbed two of them from the side and slammed their heads together with such force they simply collapsed lifelessly to the ground. The final of the clump received the back of Owens fist to the side of the head which caused him to flip in the air before his corpse landed on the floor.
There was no time to consider what he had done as he turned his attention to the next group that were fleeing with what he had assumed to be the captain before. A prime target he sprinted at.
He was at least prepared to fight back, turning around and thrusting his sword from behind the shield. Owen used it to his advantage by jumping and planting a foot on the shield, staring down into the terrified eyes of the captain before he kicked off the shield hard enough to send him back into a nearby tree, causing a low hanging broken branch to pierce through his chest.
The rest of the lesser equipped bandits weren’t hard to deal with and ended with a trail of fleeing corpses all leading up towards Owen who stood at the last body cleaning off his hands with a napkin.
With the bodies piled up they returned to their go to method of disposal and set them aflame, making sure to control the fire. “That was quite brutal…” Osmir finally said.
“I think it was quite efficient”. Alister responded, seeming quite proud of how Owen handled the situation.
Osmir brushed off his praise of the situation and continued “There were plenty of ways to deal with this situation without causing more deaths.”
This caused Owen to finally reply, staring into the flames “Would you say that to their victims?,” turning on the spot to look at him “You heard them. If you are willing to lift your weapon, you are willing to die.”
“You know that isn’t true”. Swiss finally added to the conversation. She glared holes through him as she stared and said “If they were truly so fine with dying would they not have simply starved, or killed themselves when they were lost? Instead they chose to turn to banditry and murder. Everyone is afraid of Death.”
“Except for us…” Owen muttered, his thoughts lost to the flames as he watched the bodies burn. As he watched his burn.
It took some time to make it to the city, walking in silence. For a place that was supposedly crawling with rogues and those who wished the new king harm it seemed to have quite an upbeat atmosphere entering the main gates.
Along the main street on the outskirts of the city walls were buildings that had been mostly destroyed by advances from the other nations armies before the king came in. Many people's livelihoods had been destroyed, but still the overall atmosphere was happy.
Music rang loud from a group of bards on the corner where owners of the destroyed stores had stalls out front displaying their wares and they conversed with potential buyers as if everything had been just fine.
“It is hard to believe a war has just happened here with how happy everyone is.” Osmir said, removing his glasses to clean off the dust from the rubble being shifted by construction workers who worked tirelessly to fix what was broken.
“I'm mostly surprised to see construction workers doing their job.” Alister jabbed.
Owen gazed around at the work that had been put in and mentioned “Everything looks a lot cleaner than when I graduated. The city was a mess back then… To think so much work could be done in only a few months.”
Passing the many stalls they would be called out to from time to time with friendly smiles offering many deals on small knick knacks and foods. If it was the old him, Owen would have loved to stop and indulge every store with a form of conversation. Now he watched as they beckoned for his attention and continued to walk.
As they passed some alleyways in a thick crowd a young homeless girl bumped into Alister as they passed. A quiet “Sorry, sir…,” escaping her mouth before she did her best to blend with the crowd once more.
Alister immediately checked his possessions first, looking back at her vanishing into the crowd. “I suspect we are being watched.”
“What makes you say that?” Swiss asked in return.
“Just a hunch…” Alister muttered. Keeping his eye on the girl as she fled down another alleyway.
“I think we are too…” Owen said. It may have been difficult to actively connect to someone's mind with his magic; he could read surface level emotions quite easily. And he was reading anxiety all over her since she bumped into Alister.
“So, where are we off to next?” Owen asked when they passed the first barrier of the city walls. Farmlands stretched out as far as they could see once they passed the giant wall and left the buildings behind them, separating the city from the outside world. Small stalls and buildings continued to line and dot the main street that led deeper but for the most part it was farmland.
“Directly to the king.” Alister said, taking point as usual.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Then why did we bother stopping that woman from reporting us!?” He asked in a shocked response. “A lot of damage had been caused in that entire incident and we are walking directly into the king's chambers?”
Of course, Alister always had an answer and told him “Because we do not want to give him any time to prepare for our visit. Lest he decide to hide something he does not wish us to see. However, we may not have that luxury.” Pointing down a street nearby he turned the group's attention to the same homeless woman speaking with some guards. Once the two guards nodded they swiftly handed what one could only assume to be a needle to her before she ran off once again. Owen wasn’t close enough to read her emotions but she seemed happy enough with what she was given.
“Let us be prepared for anything then.” Osmir warned.
It took quite some time for the group to even pass the outer walls to the farmland that was currently clamouring to recoup losses from the assaults of the war. Farmers out toiling to plant new crops while carriages with official seals of the kingdom rolled along passing out sacks of grain.
The giant bulls that towered above the workers helped pull along the carriages of supplies while the cows of the same size grazed on what little was left and the imports from the back of said carriages on the opposite side of the crop fields.
It was lucky these creatures grew to be such sizes that only a few were needed for their meat at a time as just a handful of these beasts could feed most of the city thanks not only to the human and elven mana cores allowing them to forgo eating for weeks at a time, however the ratlings, orcs, corvids, lizards and other races made up for it with their appetites being directly tied to their powerful mana output.
The second district was the living area which was full of homes as far as the eye could see. Though that wasn't far given, most were built to be multi-story and atop each other. The thin cobblestone alleyways connected the homes and have passageways through the district along with large domed houses built atop the buildings that the corvids would live in. Once again, staying on the main path kept the path wide enough for carriages to pass with goods.
The most damage seemed to be done to the homes along this main street with the destruction limited to, from what Owen could see, the small area surrounding it. A full on frontal assault was more than a bold move.
The final district closest to the castle itself was the school district along with the hospital district on the opposite end. Owen in fact personally remembered studying here even though it felt so far away these days. In actuality it has only been a few months since he had graduated. Hoping that no one would recognise him here he prompted the group to avoid the alchemical academy.
This area saw the most damage, which was natural given that surrounding the castle made almost anywhere in this district a prime vantage point for an assault. Once again it seemed that the new king was putting money into repairing the damage with construction crews of various races, even from various cities across the formerly seven kingdoms.
“Seems like no expense was spared to recover.” Owen noted to the group.
Osmir was quite impressed with what he saw, the orc jotting down notes of everything as they walked. “It is quite impressive. Given the track record of the new king, from what I have heard, repairing the kingdom would be a side note. He was a barbarian warlord from what I gathered.”
“Great. Another brute in charge who will have a soft ego.” Alister mumbled low enough for only the group to hear.
“Sounds like someone we know,” Frost added, nudging his arm which was met with Alister shoving her away.
The first set of gates were next. Their final stop before the king as past here they would begin the rigorous checks and pat downs before being allowed into the castle. Once again Alister stood front and centre with an imposing stature over the guards after forcing his way to the front of the line. The disgruntled yells and groans of those in line ended when Alister loudly stated “We are sent by the spire to see the new king.”
Once again he moved closer to the guard to accentuate the sheer difference in stature between them. Before the guard could even try to ask for claims of an appointment Alister produced the sigil that he used at the train station “We are from the spire,” he re-stated, “now I suggest you get going and take us to the throne room, quickly.”
It was more than enough to spook the guard it seemed as his eyes widened behind that tin can of a helmet he wore “O.. Of course sir!” He stammered, saluting with the guard next to him and turning on the spot “Follow us!” raising a spear into the air and shouting “Open the gates!”
Moments later, the large gates began to open and they were personally chaperoned through the checkpoints with speeds that allowed them to bypass all of the ques that had been forming for days.
Making it past the final set of gates even the grounds of the castle were in much better shape than Owen remembered. Provided all he had was hearsay from those professors who had been to the castle around the time he left for his internship.
Livestock were being corralled around to help pull carts of provisions that were being handed out to the workers. Mostly more supplies as the food was being handled by the servants who ran from what they could only assume were the kitchens inside with large jugs of ice cold beverages and trays of foods for the soldiers and mages alike.
The guards were stopped once they entered by a stout human with a bald head that currently reflected the sun like a deadly laser towards the eyes of anyone unfortunate enough to be standing at the wrong angle. It seemed all the hair from his head had decided to occupy his face given the large handlebar moustache, beard, and thick bushy brows that almost covered his eyes entirely. “Welcome, esteemed guests.” He said in a pitch higher than Owen expected from a man of his stature. “Do follow me.” He added before turning, his purple robes almost catching in the dirt as he began to walk towards the main entrance. The back had the kingdom's crest embroidered into it. One that would no doubt be changing soon with the change in management.
Passing the main entrance into the halls the large structure screamed regal in the worst ways possible. Jewel encrusted tapestries and weaponry hanging from the walls that were clearly ‘decorative’ as none of them looked suited for real combat.
That was, on the walls that were still intact. The blood being cleaned from the carpets by maids of various origins and the statues of the previous ruler all having been left as rubble across the hallway.
“I would assume you are here for the blessing of the spire?” The man asked as he kept his gaze ahead of him, leading them through the dilapidated halls that had construction workers working overtime.
“Of course, it is important that any new ruler receives the blessing. Regardless of stature or moral disposition,” Osmir explained while his face was buried within his book, still taking notes of everything they passed.
It was surprising some of the structures were still standing within the castle walls given the destruction that followed the war. Like most castles it was a straight shot from the entrance to the audience chambers where they could hear what seemed to be a fight going on inside.
It was hard to imagine what they would even see on the other side of that door but it certainly wasn't what they saw.
The greeter swung the doors open to reveal what they could only assume to be the king currently locked in battle with a far smaller man. The giant of barbarian origins towered over his opponent in both height and girth. Built similarly to Alister but far taller at ten feet he brandished a large axe that he swung as if it weighed nothing at all.
To his credit, the smaller man was quite nimble and side stepped his blows swiftly. The barbarian looked up in confusion as he heard the door open while the man swung, taking the side of a sword into his leg while he was distracted. A single stream of blood began to trickle down the king's leg from the shallow cut the decorative blade left.
Silence fell over the room after the guards stationed nearby gasped and readied their weapons “Oh my…” The smaller man said as he backed off, feeling he had made a large mistake. “I am sorry, my lord… I… I lost myself in the battle” He added, lowering his head in a bow. The man was clearly from a more clean cut cloth than the king as he wore a very well designed tunic and his sword was made most likely to be a deterrent resembling those on the walls outside.
The king turned his attention from the immortals to the man in front of him, raising his hand when his men attempted to approach, which stopped them in their tracks. Dropping his axe he stood tall over him and stared down his sharp and angular nose at him, those deep green eyes piercing through his soul before he raised a hand that could easily engulf the man's head alone.
Frost seemed ready to move if she needed to, preparing a spell before the king placed that large hand on the man's shoulder as best he could and said “There is nothing to be sorry for my friend. You took advantage of a change in the battlefield. Death waits for no man, and you must take every advantage you can get against an opponent out of your size class. Raise your head and hold it high.”
His opponent raised his head from its shame and looked directly at the king before he weakly nodded in response “Of course, my lord. Thank you for your kindness”
“I am simply stating facts.” The king responded with a smile, odd to see such a gruff and rugged man smile so sincerely. His hair was quite long and at this point greasy from his long battle, small braids and baubles kept tufts held together and his beard was as chaotic as his hair, overgrown and unkempt.
“Now, for my … sudden guests” The king stated as he turned to the group, not as happy as he was with his opponent. One last word to the man as he looked back and said “Oh yes, same time next week?”
“Of course my lord!” He responded before he sheathed his weapon and fled from the rising tensions.
That left the group with said tensions. The king walked back to his throne and placed his large axe leaning against the broken throne. The back that had the words of ancient scriptures carved into it based on the teachings of the all mother had been broken in what one could assume was the final battle for the throne once the new king had made it this far. Raising his hand, the greeter nodded and bowed to his king before he left the hall so they could speak alone.
“So, you come all this way.” The king stated as he took a seat on what was left of the throne, or what the tiny throne could hold of his large stature, his eyes piercing through the group less like he was examining them and more like he was examining the doors behind them. “With a new member, I heard nothing of another human in your ranks.”
Owen was prepared to introduce himself, but Alister stepped up and approached the throne with a confident stride “We do recruit those willing to help our cause under extreme circumstances.” He began, only to be cut off by the king asking “And do you always plan to arrive unannounced, without the common courtesy of sending a messenger?”
“Sometimes it is best to see what a King makes of his time without preparing for our visit. Also our messengers seem to not last long in your kingdom, given we had not heard news of your arrival to the throne from our apostates.” Alister tersely responded. The group slowly approached him and stood in a line at the foot of the stairs that led to the throne itself. Designed to make anyone standing before the king feel insignificant, to feel they were looking up at their betters.
This, however, felt like an entirely different kind of insignificance to Owen. This was not the feeling of looking up at an old man who would have his guards take someone away to the dungeon. This was staring up at a man who he assumed to have no qualms in taking that axe and removing a problem personally if it presented itself. Even with his vast skills and training he felt this man could give him a run for his money.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of such an intrusive visit?” The King asked, tapping his foot impatiently and leaning his elbow on the tiny armrest.
“Well, first of all, introductions.” Swiss chimed in as she reached into her spatial distortion once more and removed a dusty old ledger that she brushed off. From what Owen understood, things like dust didn’t exist within the distortion… So as he thought, she must have put it in there like that. “Given you are the new king of this region, we are to collect data and prepare the blessing of the tower for your rule.”
Of course they wouldn’t mention the other reason they were actually here, but it was a good enough reason for the King to accept, asking “And you wished to see my routine without knowing you were approaching?”
“Correct.” The Ratling said, flipping open the old ledger and labelling the top of the official document within. She then handed the book over to Osmir who whipped out a quill and inkwell, for as primitive as those were, and filled out the necessary sections.
“First we need you to fill out some information for us.” Osmir stated and motioned to ask for permission to approach.
The king nodded and allowed Osmir to ascend the steps. Even when seated, the king had a broad and imposing form. The remnants of sweat from his previous battle added to such a feeling and the signs of many battles fought in the forms of scars across his face and arms helped to suggest him as a powerful man.
Turning the book over into the hands of the King, he read the information being requested and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Osmir stood patiently, allowing him to take all the time he needed before he held a hand out expectantly.
Osmir promptly placed the feather pen into his hand once he dipped it in his inkwell and the sound of hastened, and clumsy writing filled the chambers, soon to be followed by silence once more once the echo of his ledger being slammed shut between his fingers and handed back to Osmir subsided. Osmir re-opened and read the ledger quickly once it was handed to him and stated “Thank you so much for your cooperation, Lord Raul.”
“There we go, sir’s and madam’s. Is there anything else I can help you with?” The king asked, and this was where the real plan came into place.
“I must say, I am quite curious to know what happened to the royal family once you took over. Regonald the third had quite a sizable family.” Frost asked as she stood forward. Her gaze piercing through the fog that covered her face and pinning the king to his half broken throne.
“Well, I think we all know the answer to that.” The king replied tersely.
It was the answer they expected, but as Frost prepared to state her dissatisfaction with his cruelty, he held his hand up with a palm raised towards them “I see what you think of me and I assure you that the former ruler's family still live. They fled to somewhere in the countryside once they had gathered their belongings.”
Frost’s tension seemed to loosen slightly, but Owen couldn’t help but feel that was an odd answer and asked “And what if they come back in an attempt to take the throne from you?” Watching the kings demeanour change Owen added “It seems like killing them would remove future complication”
“If they try they will be met with steel.” The king assured, his posture leaning forward to examine this newest member of the group. His eyes scanning over him as if sizing up a threat “They pose no threat to my rule in this given moment and while you may assume the term barbarian king means my people are willing to pillage and slaughter anyone within our path, we do not harm those who do not get in our way.”
Alister took a step back and said “Thank you for your time, sir. We will be back once we are ready to organise the blessing of the spire.”
“Thank you. Take as much time as you need.” He responded, bowing his head and motioning to the door behind them. “Simply request an audience and I will drop what I am doing to accommodate.”
With that, the group left through the main doors and this time Alister had a plan. Pulling Owen close he motioned to Frost and Osmir “You two head into the town and ask about the common folks feelings towards the new rule.”
Next he pointed to Swiss and told her “You will go and speak with the alchemists guild and find how this has affected studies.”
“Would I not be best suited to that?” Owen asked curiously, unable to move as Alister still had his hand on his shoulder.
“Normally, yes. I would send you but you also requested that you did not want to be recognised yet. So, instead you will come with me so I can show you how we gather information. We are going to speak to the servants.” Alister explained before pulling him away.
Firstly they left the throne room to the right and entered a hallway that had a view out into the gardens. While a battle had recently been fought here, the groundskeepers tirelessly worked on replanting the living shrubbery that had been imported from the eastern forests. Though they struggled to do so as the small dragon shaped bush constantly tried to bite at the keeper who was toiling the dirt.
A swift smack on the snout caused the bush to get angry as it puffed up its leaves to appear larger, but other than that it behaved itself for the duration of its planting. “What marvellous creatures…” Owen mumbled as he watched, reminding him of the nights he would sneak out with Tithe to simply enjoy the majesty of the academy's living gardens.
It was then he noticed he was lagging behind as Alister had already engaged one of the servants and began asking her questions. Rapidly approaching so he could catch up he listened in at first. “So, how long have you worked here?” He asked when Owen arrived.
“Oh I would say possibly five years?” The young human girl replied. She wore the same dress all the servants did which draped down the floor, covering her feet which made it look quite difficult to walk while wearing.
“Has the new rule made any significant changes in how you go about your duties?” He asked next.
She had to think for a moment and shook her head in response. “Not much has changed for us servants in terms of duties aside from preparing extra portions for the construction crews. We cook and clean as we always have.”
Alister seemed to study the woman and noted her necklace “What level of pyromancy did you study?” He mentioned, pointing to his neck to mimic where she had it.
She needed a moment to realise what he meant before she looked at her necklace, a symbol of a silver drake coiled around a red crystal. “Oh, I was a third tier pyromancer. Didn’t get very far with that given I work here now.” She explained, a half chuckle that had some heavy implications behind it.
“Well, I thank you for your time. I won’t keep you from your duties any longer.” Alister said, bowing his head to her with a hand atop his chest.
She returned the bow and stated “If you need anything else, please feel free to ask,” before she entered a room on the left side of the hall.
“Done daydreaming?” Alister asked, beginning to move already back towards the entrance.
“Yes, sorry. I got lost watching the plants.” Owen begrudgingly admitted.
“They are astounding creatures, but the job comes first.” He responded, surprisingly understanding for once.
Passing the main gates they headed down to the residential district where Owen eventually asked “What are we doing out here?”
“Following the information the servant gave us.” He explained.
“But she didn’t tell us anything useful?”
“She told me everything I needed to know. Now go watch from a distance.” Alister stated.
Once he was far enough away, Alister knocked on the door to a quaint but run down home that was soon opened by an older gentleman who was hunched over a cane that was made from old cedarwood. The resemblance to the servant was there and with his greying brown hair frizzled and sticking up he tilted his head like a child and asked “How may I help you, sir?”
Alister raised a hand in an open palm greeting and said “Hello sir, is Haylee here?”
Owen assumed that was the name of the servant which was proven moments later as the old man replied “Oh, no. I am afraid she is at work at the moment.”
“She was a friend of mine when I studied in Kiln.” Alister explained which seemed to line up with where she studied as the old man nodded along patiently. “I wanted to come visit her and see what she had gotten up to.” Reaching into his pocket he produced a similar crest to the one she wore around her neck. That same drake coiled around a red crystal, though Alisters was golden.
“Well come on in then, we can chat over some tea until she gets home!” The man jovially shouted, almost pulling him inside. “You must tell me of your pyromancies good sir.”
“Huh… Seems the family is obsessed with fire?” Owen thought as he watched the scene unfold.
An hour had passed with no significant news from inside the home and Owen was left standing in the streets waiting for Alister. After half an hour he had decided to peruse the stalls and gather some more information on his own as he assumed Alister would get mad at him for not taking the initiative to ask questions.
Again it seemed that most of the commoners shared the same love for the new king. Who wouldn't be in their position? The king came in and dethroned the previous ruler who had been raising taxes and funding a war.
Not only did he take over, but he provided relief to those affected by the damages and supplies to the farms so production could once more begin. Construction came straight from the king's coffers and the common folk were more than happy to offer help as it meant getting their own lives back on track faster.
No, the ones who were not happy were the royals. Whispers from the stall owners that due to the king's new stance on the wealthy they had mostly begun to flee the country to take their wealth elsewhere.
Turns out that the king freely funding the reconstruction of the destroyed aspects of the city made awful investment opportunities for those who attempted to buy up the destroyed land and build more unaffordable housing for those who could hardly afford their own land as it was.
Finally, Alister returned with a hand on Owens' shoulder that caused him to almost collapse under both the shock and the weight. “Could you not!?” He shouted as he clutched his chest “You will give me a heart attack!”
Alister smirked at him as he pulled him upright and spun him around so they were facing each other “I see you have been gathering information. What did you find?”
Once again ignoring the brunt of Owens reaction. He had no choice but to take a deep breath, calm himself, and explain the information he had found of the common peoples thoughts on the king.
“Well, that matches with what was said earlier, along with those theories of bandit groups set to injure the king's operations.” Alister responded after he took a moment to process it all.
“And what did you find?” Owen asked in return, a bit surprised he didn’t lead with it.
“From speaking with the girl's family, I think the king may know more than he is letting on.” Alister explained, pushing past him for now and adding “We must gather everyone and we can discuss it then.”
Owen grumbled, rubbing at his shoulder still but he followed. At least it was easy to keep up with him given he parted crowds like a ship parted the waters.
Once everyone was gathered at a small restaurant that seemed to understand who they were once that same badge from before was shown, Alister got right to business.
“I think the king knows more than he let on.” Alister repeated for the others who did not hear. Placing his hands onto the desk he recalled “The family of the worker I spoke with told me many stories from their daughter working in the castle. One of which seemed quite troubling.”
Owen wished to probe for more information on just how he pulled off such a stunt with such confidence, knowing that the woman could have been back at any moment and called the guards on his deceptive entry, but that was for another time.
Allowing him to continue, Aster explained “In recent months, there has been a young boy within the castle walls which has raised some concern among the staff. While I could not get a name, they said that he seemed quite obsessed with the departed. Often found standing somewhere nearby if a soldier had been brought back mortally wounded or even seen tending to the body of one of the many animals around the castle.”
“You think this kid is the next in line to become Death?” Osmir asked, quite intrigued as he took notes of the description.
“It is only a theory, but those destined to become Death would see the world differently to us. They would also commonly be obsessed with the departed out of an instinctual desire to help.” Alister continued, motioning for everyone to be silent when a waiter approached to take their orders.
Once finished and they returned to the kitchen, he continued. “I have a simple test that we can do to determine if anyone within the castle is the next potential.”
“Oh, the box?” Swiss asked, eagerly standing atop her chair so she could reach into her runic markings once more and pull out a small metal container which had golden trimmings around the edges and corners along with a large lock on the front which seemed devoid of a keyhole. It was simple to guess that it must have been magically locked in some way.
“The box indeed.” Alister replied, nodding at Owen after “Be prepared for when we open this. It will be quite overpowering, even for you.”
“What exactly… is it?” Owen asked.
“The essence of death. A substance that is rare to come across in the world that is primarily used to induce the feeling of what it would be like to die into those who are nearby. Highly illegal for mortals to have.” Frost explained, her hand sitting larger than the box itself when she picked it up.
“So we are just going to submit everyone in the castle to feeling like they are about to die?” Owen asked, in a slight state of shock at how… simple? Cruel? Certainly odd the plan was.
Alister remained stoic and said “Yes.”
