Fae and Fare (The Wandering Inn, #2)

by Pirateaba

Pawn looked up too as he made his way back towards the city. He saw only stars and the twin moons overhead. Nothing he hadn’t seen a hundred times before. But…how many times had Pawn actually looked up at the sky? When he thought about it, it was more than likely he’d looked up less than a hundred times. And he had never paid attention to the shining stars. They had simply been objects, irrelevant parts of his world. But now Pawn looked up and wondered what lay beyond the stars in the sky. He looked up and wondered if out there, somewhere, there was a place where he could go. A place for the lost like him. A place to be saved. As he looked up, Pawn felt something in his chest. It was desire, a yearning that came so strongly that the Antinium shuddered. He had never felt such a want in his life, but how it came over him, a fierce desire for something he didn’t have. Sin. Hell. Slavery. Betrayal. Erin’s stories stuck in the Antinium’s mind, whispering to him, speaking into his heart. Redemption, salvation, rebirth. Resurrection. The forgiveness of sins. His only son. And— “Heaven.” It was just for a second. It was only a hope, the small desire of one who had never known he wanted it. But for one moment, Pawn wished it were all true. And in that moment, he believed. And as he looked up, the Antinium heard the whisper. It came out of his heart, and then Pawn heard the voice in his mind. [Acolyte Class Obtained!]

Oo

She’d be lucky if she ever lived past three hundred. Half-Elves grew about one year to every three a Human did. They also died from stupid things just like Humans, so the average half-Elf died before they hit a hundred years. And yes, that meant she was barely twenty by Human standards, but that was also a stupid comparison. Ceria was over sixty. Some days she felt like the older females, Human, Drake and Gnoll who shook their heads at the youngsters running about. She’d lived and loved and seen countless things over the years, far more than anyone else she knew. She was old. And not old. Other days Ceria still felt like marching for eight hours, camping in the cold and wet, and then getting up to duel a Mothbear in the morning. It was an odd feeling, being caught between both states. But that was being a half-Elf for you. It had the advantages of both races, but the flaws as well. And that meant Ceria often had Human jealousy and Elven detachment.

:(

But it would never be enough. Ceria sighed and shook her head. It still burned in her, after all. No matter how much she denied it, she had more Human in her than most of her fellow half-Elves. She stared at her dead hand and felt blood pumping through the rest of her body. “One last time.” Her hands—both of them—clenched. Ceria opened her window and tossed the bowl of water outside. She took a deep breath of the cold air, letting it freeze and wake her at the same time. She spoke to the lightening sky. “One Horn of Hammerad still remains. Death before dishonor.” She turned, and strode downstairs. To breakfast, and then to glory. That was how the Horns of Hammerad lived.

:(

Gold was not really an issue for the Antinium, but every bit helped. Klbkch nodded. “If we were to accept a lower price, we might surprise them and influence their feelings towards us in some positive manner. Griffon Hunt appears to be especially hostile towards us.” “Is that an issue?” “It may not be, but I would prefer to do so if you will permit it.” Another sigh. “Very well. I trust your judgment, Klbkch.” She trusted his judgment, but didn’t understand it. It was an odd thing, but his Queen—all Queens, really—did not value goodwill or friendship as a resource. They only thought of other species as variables to be influenced, and hence that was why Klbkch occasionally had to argue like this. Perhaps this was why the Prognugators had been created; to fill the voids of each Queen’s personality. Of course, each Prognugator and Queen was different; Klbkch knew other Hives had vastly different ways of approaching their work. Regardless…

Oo

“I dislike the need for it, but very well. You are sure he suspects nothing?” “As far as I am aware.” “Hm. Disappointing that he does not think or wonder. But then, he is young.” And untested. And experimental. Klbkch added these words in his head, but did not say them out loud. Ksmvr was his Queen’s pet project, and he might be useful— If he were stronger. “I will return to my duties. I believe Pawn is speaking with the other Workers, both individual and not. The others will arrive within the week.” “I see. Then go.” His Queen waved her feeler again. There wasn’t much more to be said. After her initial excitement, she had gone back to managing her Hive. Antinium didn’t dwell on emotional matters, if they even felt anything. Klbkch understood. It was a practical choice. But he had changed in the last few months,

Oo

There were no guards at the doors, and there was no door for that matter. There was no need. Anyone who had penetrated this far into the Hive would have to have slaughtered almost every single living Antinium to get here, and if that was the case, what good would a door be? In any case, the need to open and close a door and station Soldiers there was a needless waste of resources. And the Antinium did not waste resources.

Oo

But of course, any action against faeries prompts a greater or equal reaction. She dumps snow on my head. I swear and flash her again. With my finger. It shines into the sky, so bright I can see the beam even in the light of the day. It turns out that I can adjust the intensity of the light very well, and so I blind the faerie again. “Ye daft bugger!” She flies around erratically, as I shine my light at her, and then she stops, flies back on my head, and grins at me. “Ah, well. ‘Twas quite a good surprise!” That’s faeries for you. Insult them a bit and they’ll hound you, but do something like that and they just regard it as a bit of fun. I’m starting to understand them more, but they always surprise me a bit. The faerie on my head doesn’t even seem to mind the light anymore. I frown at her as I walk on, trying to substitute the pain in my head by thinking about faeries. “Did you just turn off your eyes or something?” “What? Are ye stupid? Nae. I just saw past the light, ‘tis all.” “…I see.” Multiple layers of vision?

Oo layers of perceived reality or more like along the spectrum from human to bees?

A day and a half later, and two aching eardrums prove I’m right. The burst of noise and sound isn’t exactly like being hit by a real life stun grenade—and there’s a whole lot less death and injury since this is just light and sound, not actual explosive force like the damn things people use, ‘non-lethal’ my ass—but it works. Sound and light. Light and sound, just amplified. It’s the easiest thing to remember, especially if you’ve actually seen a flash bang go off*. *Yeah. Police drug raids, wild party, and I wasn’t actually doing drugs. But try explaining that to a bunch of officers tearing up the place. The one time my father’s connections actually bailed me out of trouble I didn’t start.

Well -- it is packed with explosives & even a 'blank' bullet will kill you -- anyone raised in the 90's knows that. R.I.P. Brandon

the faeries shakes her head. “As if the Dragon would bother with you. Nae, ye are a plaything of greater powers still. But you don’t even know what ye’ve given up, do you?” “Given up? What do you mean?” “Ach. How would we explain it? What good can a slave do with the chains on their neck? But you put it on willingly, didn’t ye?” She looks at her companions and shakes her head again. “Your…classes, fool! Your levels and foolish things. You are a plaything, and you know not what that means or who plays this game.” And there it is. Part of the mystery, right there if only I was smart enough to put all the pieces together. I frown, but then I notice the faerie’s expression. She’s…glaring at me. So are the others. Hm. They really, really don’t like this subject. And I can see they’re getting ready to either fly off or do something nasty to me, not just prank me. So I look her in the eye and shake my head. “I’m no plaything.”

True

And the faerie hesitated. Just for a second. Ryoka went on, speaking quickly. “We have nothing to offer, but if there is a price, I’ll pay it.” Urksh interrupted. “We will. The Stone Spears will bear any price for our young.” He couldn’t have known the other side of the conversation, but he put a paw on Ryoka’s shoulder and gripped her hard. She nodded at him. The faerie was silent for a long time. She stared back at her fellows, and then looked at Ryoka. And there was something else in her expression. A bit of sadness? “You do not know what you offer. The price is too great, mortals. Do not ask.” “Please.” Ryoka bowed her head, bowed in front of the faeries. Urksh did the same. Across the camp, she sensed Gnolls doing likewise. The faeries floated above her head, silent judges. “The price is always the same. Life for life. Death for death. And even if there is not death, you ask much of the fates.” Fate. The word sent a chill down Ryoka’s spine. Was this all fated? She was too afraid to ask.

Does she exchange the entire Tribe?

Dark shadows stood on the cliff, watching as the faint fires of the Stone Spears tribe were rekindled. They looked out, and more shapes moved. Hundreds of them. Thousands. The night was filled with shadows, and as the blizzard began to engulf the land in earnest, the dark shape stood. It bit into the Gnoll and ripped flesh away, chewing. And then the Gnoll slowly sat up. Lifeless eyes stared at the one who had brought it back,

No -- they were too close --- they would've attacked anyway but maybe the % of death would have differed?

There is safety in numbers, and he is worried. But he dares not move his camp. If Ryoka returns with Mrsha, they will need to find them here. So the Stone Spears wait, watching the darkness.

Oh -- that is why.... They would have moved on in time?

I squint. There’s something—next to her? Some dark shape covered by the snow. But I can’t make it out. It doesn’t matter. I need to get down there. But god. This is a nightmare. I’ve attended lessons on how to conduct emergency rescues of people trapped in situations like this, and I’ve climbed before, and this is about as bad a situation as you can get. I need to get to Mrsha, but that means I need to climb down there. I don’t want to try tossing her the rope Urksh gave me and have her pull herself up. I need to go down there.

:(

And I’m lost. I run straight now, as the hill transitions to an open plain, but I don’t know where to go. The tribe. I have to get to them. But where—? Claws dig into my arm and I gasp. But Mrsha is patting my head, growling anxiously and I realize she’s trying to tell me where to go. Mute. She’s mute. I look around, and see a paw pointing just to my right. I don’t hesitate and immediately take off running that way. Arms burning. Legs aching. I’m at the end of my tether. But I have to keep going. I can’t slow down, not now.

:(

Can’t run. Can’t die. I try to clench my hand, but it’s not right without those two fingers. There’s a gap and I can see straight into my palm. It looks wrong. A Goblin advances towards me. The one who bit me. He raises his sword and grins around bloody teeth. I step towards him— And hear a roar. The Goblin turns, surprise becoming fear, and then his head disappears. I blink. Something flashes in front of me, and then there’s a Gnoll. Not Mrsha. This one is taller, stronger, male. Urksh.

:(

“Where—?” “They are coming. We must flee.” And then I see it, and I realize what despair tastes like. We were closer to the tribe’s camp than we thought, Mrsha and I. Close, but too far. Too late. This how it ends. This is how we die.

:( Damn noble sacrifice pending -- find your kleenix

It’s all happening so fast. I can’t process it all. War? It’s so sudden, but then I see a blue glow. Frost faeries. They’re hovering high in the sky, watching it all. And I wonder why they’re here. But then I realize, it’s because they’re no longer watching me. Because this is not my story. Not in the grand scheme of things. It’s his. The Goblins are pursuing us, an endless horde of them. They’re striking our backs and flanks, trying to bring the adults protecting the children down, trying to block us off. They’re so focused on us, they never see the Drake charging towards them.

:(

Goblins around me. I spread my arms. One last try. “Are the fey slaves, or are you free? Help me! I am Ryoka Dawning Griffin, and I offer everything! Change fate. Save us.” Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. I look around, and see Urksh. He clutches his stomach, and Mrsha stares in horror as he holds his guts in place. The Gnoll looks up towards the faeries, hovering high overhead. “We offer everything.”

Oh so this is why. :(

Zel turned, and yanked Ilvriss back. The other Drake fought him, snarling, and destiny changed. One of the undead Goblins had been advancing on the two Drakes. If they had been closer— The dead Goblin exploded. Zel and Ilvriss were caught on the edge of the blast, and they were thrown backwards, through the air. Only his armor and skills kept Zel intact as he crashed into the ground. He heard ringing in his ears, and sat up. A huge crater was all that remained of where the undead Goblin had been.

So not just Mrsha for the loss of a tribe. :(

At some point in that endless run, something had happened. Mrsha’s brown fur had changed. From the colorful forest brown, it had become pure white, as white as snow. Blood and grime darkened the child’s face, but it was not hers. “I’m so sorry.” The Gnoll child said not a word. Her eyes were filled with tears. Ryoka stared at Mrsha’s fur, and then looked at the faeries. She gazed at the faerie in front of her, and saw immortal eyes. Tired eyes. A reflection. “Next time I will save them all. Or die trying.” Ryoka thought she said the words. She blinked, and then collapsed, falling face-first into the snow. Mrsha looked at the fallen Human and slowly reached out to shake her. Ryoka didn’t move. Overhead, the faeries exchanged a look. They nodded, and began to spin around in a wide circle overhead. Mrsha stared upwards as the snow falling from overhead stopped. And then the air began to warm. All around Ryoka and the Gnoll, the snow began to melt. The child stared around, wild-eyed as grass and flowers began to grow upwards, creating a soft bed of new life around the two. The air was warm, and for a second, the frozen crystal of the Frost Faeries’ skin changed, and grew brighter. The colors of spring ran through their bodies, bright and green, the color of grass and sunlight and clear blue skies.

:(

Rags looked over. Indeed, one of the Hobs had intercepted the food gathering group and was trying to give them orders. He gave Rags a look of long suffering and then she understood. Garen might be a warrior beyond warriors, and unbeatable among Goblins, a devious attacker and even a former adventurer who knew more about Humans and other races than even other Chieftains…but he was no leader. He had no levels in the [Chieftain] class, or even the [Leader] class. His idea of leadership was leading the small group of warriors he had handpicked and trained himself into combat, and letting the Hobs and other Goblins sort the rest out. In fact, Rags learned to her mounting indignation, Garen hadn’t even really grown his tribe himself. Goblins had simply wandered towards his camp like moths drawn to a flame and he’d let them stay. The only reason he even had a tribe was because he felt the general urge to, but he was incapable of leading any more than his few hundred directly, despite his overwhelming strength. It wasn’t a huge flaw in a person, but it was in a Chieftain. As the leader of the Flooded Waters Tribe, Rags felt for the Red Fang Tribe, so she sprang into action, much to Garen’s annoyance. The first thing Rags did was cancel Garen’s idiotic food gathering order and send out scouts from her location. Not to find food; she wanted a place to make camp at the moment, and her scouts would report any good food sources around.

Atta girl Rags.

Normally Goblins helped mitigate the huge number of mouths to feed in their tribes by eating their dead. But Rags considered that having dead Goblins at all was a sign of failure, so she was extremely careful to find new food sources. By the looks of the Red Fang tribe, they’d been forced to eat their dead numerous times already. Perhaps it was time to grow food out of the ground like she’d seen Drakes and Gnolls doing. Rags knew it was possible; she didn’t know if it was possible in the snow, but it would be nice to have a reliable source of food. For the moment though, she wanted the herd of deer slaughtered. They could salt the meat; another thing Garen’s tribe didn’t do.

Eeesh Garen ... seriously?

Garen had gone south, evading adventurers and cities to meet this new Chieftain when he’d first heard of his power. But the Red Fang’s leader had left as soon as he’d seen the Goblin. “He is…bad. Bad Goblin.” It was a word Rags had never heard spoken of another Goblin, but she understood his meaning. Bad Goblin. One who could not be trusted, could not be part of a Tribe. Who must be fought against,

Hmm

Was strong. Was smart. Traded with Humans. Rags and Garen exchanged looks. “Traded?” The Gold Stone Chieftain nodded importantly as he relayed this information while they ate. The Goblin King had had a tribe larger than any other, and he had been largely peaceful. He had been a Goblin Chieftain at first, and then a Goblin Lord, and then had come the day when others called him Goblin King. It had been glorious, apparently. What few scraps the Gold Stone Chieftain could recall was of his ancestors being happy, fed, and safe. But then something…bad had happened, and there had been war. Terrible war.

7 volumes in and we still have no idea what the rest of the world did to piss him off so much. From the set-up -- i'm 99% sure it wasn't the Goblins' fault

Rags had killed the woman with a bolt in her back. The smaller Goblin shook her head. She wasn’t feeling guilty—no, not really. But she stared at the woman’s face and thought of Erin. Garen had no such feelings. He kicked the woman dismissively. “Dead Human. Do not worry. No one will come.” Rags shook her head. Not all Humans bad. Some…good. Garen laughed at her. He shook his head. “All bad. They hate us. Fear us. We are trash to them.” That was true and not true. Rags remembered being hunted, remembered the fear and terror and hatred she had of Humans. But then she had met Erin, and her life had changed.

:(

Erin had seen pictures of mansions owned by celebrities and millionaires, so she wasn’t exactly blown away by the size of the Lady Magnolia’s home. It was big, yes, but still believable. What left her speechless was the Architecture. It had to be Architecture, because it was the kind of thing that couldn’t go uncapitalized. The best way Erin could think of it was that there were no flat spaces. Houses in her world tended to have flat surfaces as walls, and indeed, most skyscrapers were just giant rectangles with the occasional artistic design. But this was a building made back in the time when people took years or even decades to build structures. It had art in every inch of the building. Erin stared up at the sculptures carved into the walls, and the decorative reliefs made of metal and stone. Words like crenellation, fenestration, and porte cochère leapt into her head, although that last word was just because Erin had taken French class at one point. And failed. But still, even that would have been comparable to some of the better antiquities in Erin’s world. What set Magnolia’s home apart was the magic. There was a lot of it.

Hmm

Erin turned her head and gasped. Both Rags and Toren would have immediately recognized the towering behemoths clad in steel armor, although these Golems were made of silvery metal rather than black. They were also, disconcertingly, gilded with pink metal. It did not make them cute or less threatening. And both Goblin and Skeleton probably would have run away immediately

Oo

Erin turned as Reynold snapped back to even more perfect attention. She saw a tall woman dressed in a somber black dress, as official-looking and impressive as Reynold’s own attire. She was flanked by two other women, dressed like English maids or…Japanese cosplayers. There were frills. And even bows. And a certain white and black color coordination that struck the eye. But the two maids were clearly following their leader, who turned out to be a maid herself.

Oo

“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to look at some of this stuff. It’s really incredible. Unless Lady Magnolia is waiting for me?” Erin blinked innocently up at Ressa. The [Head Maid] hesitated. “Lady Magnolia is extremely busy at the moment. You may wait for her in a dressing room.” She was disarmed by the smile the younger woman gave her. “Oh. If she’s busy I wouldn’t want to disturb her. Can I just look at these displays instead of waiting in a room? It’s really amazing.” Reynold seemed to be trying to swallow his tongue, and the maids were staring between Erin and Ressa and slowly trying to edge away. Ressa blinked, but then her brows snapped together. Erin felt the slightest tingling in her gut, and a vague sense of unease passed through her—for just an instant. She blinked, and it was gone like a moment of indigestion. She looked at Ressa and wondered if she was going to let Erin look. She was staring at Erin’s face pretty hard. Thinking? Erin wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble. After a few seconds, Erin realized that this was intimidation, not pondering thought. Erin stared back, not smiling anymore. Was the other woman trying to scare her? She was tall, but that wasn’t scary. Again, the briefest moment of unease passed through Erin as Ressa’s glare seemed to intensify. But Erin just stared back. She’d looked at Skinner; this wasn’t very scary. And now Ressa seemed confused. Erin looked around as she scratched her back awkwardly. Reynold and the other two maids looked pa...

oooh not so much an epic stare down

Ressa shook her head. It had taken a few minutes for her to start talking, but Erin had finally gotten her to explain what each object was and did outside of a one sentence reply. Either she was nicer than she looked, or she’d just given up trying to scare Erin. “Each object here is protected by the enchantments of the mansion. Only a truly powerful mage would be able to penetrate the wards here.” “But what if they did break through? And what if they, I dunno, brought an army?” “That would be amusing to see.”

Oo

Erin stared at Joseph. She shook her head slightly. “It’s what she had to do to survive. I mean, I became an [Innkeeper]—” “You’re an [Innkeeper]? Why?” “…Because that’s the only way I could survive. I didn’t know there were other people and Lady Magnolia wasn’t there, and I found this inn and got the class, so—” Erin could only shrug. She looked at Joseph and the others helplessly.

He's asking why? >< Dude

Erin put a hand on Imani’s shoulder. The other girl gripped her so tightly Erin could see Imani’s hand go white. “I’m sorry.” “They all died.” It was a whisper meant only for Erin. And then Imani began to cry. Erin held her, as the other young men and women—the other boys and girls, really—stood around in awkward silence, not knowing what to do or say. But Erin did. She hugged Imani to her chest, and the other girl broke down in her arms. It was something only they could share. Something only Erin and Imani could understand. So Erin held the girl and talked quietly, until she was sleeping and the others were sitting together.

:(

Once upon a time, she’d loved chess. Then, later, she’d grown to hate it. She’d hated the memorization, the constant games, the agonizing over win/loss ratios, and the way chess had consumed her entire life, leaving time for little else. She had grown distant from the game, and eventually stopped playing altogether, despite many people urging her not to waste her talents and quit. But Erin had grown sick of that small board, and she had been happier being normal. And yet, and yet…Erin had passed through the years, and slowly she’d realized that chess had changed her. Even a casual game was different for her, because she was not an amateur, but she was still not a professional. No one in her school or even her district could challenge her, and yet the top of that strange world was still far away from her. Too, Erin had slowly realized how much chess meant to her. Without it, she had nothing that set her apart from other people, and that was good and bad. She was tired of chess, yes, but she was meaningless without it. And so, slowly, Erin had grown to love the game again. She’d played for fun, and then rediscovered the feeling she’d had when she first learned to play.

:)

That made no sense to Erin, except the King of Destruction, and she had no idea who his left hand might be. Assuming it wasn’t literal and he had a giant left hand that played chess. She’d heard of crazier things.

:)

So she wavered. Only for a second. But that second was an eternity upon which Erin stood, gazing out at two forks in the road of her life. She held her own destiny in her hands, and weighed each choice, remembering the past. A second became a moment. A moment became a day, then a year. The year became eternal. And in that immortal moment, Erin realized something was wrong. She was not in control. Because as her mind weighed the choice, every part of her pointed towards her inn. Yet…something was telling her to say yes. Something was wrong. Erin felt it. It was a sense in the back of her head, the same thing she’d felt all throughout the conversation. Only, Erin hadn’t known it was even there, so insidious and quiet had it been. Yet now it was out in the open, exposed by her own Skill and relentless time.

Good --- this part of the levels I really dislike -- the outright manipulation of minds. More invasive than the attack skills -- at least those are generally controlled by any society -- this stuff can rot or shift society's core.

“The Antinium do battle much in the way your world fights, or so I gather.” Erin blinked. Lady Magnolia smiled and clarified her statement. “What I mean is, they fight under the assumption all soldiers are equal. They raise their warriors to be excellent, but no individual is better than another in their doctrine. That is because the Antinium do not level. But other armies fight differently.” Lady Magnolia lifted her cup, accepted a refill from Ressa and drank a bit before continuing. Erin saw Ressa glance at her mistress, and something flickered across the maid’s face. It almost looked like…worry? “In this world, an individual can change the course of a battle. A single hero can win a war. And that is because we level. Armies protect their highest-level warriors, or risk them in order to deal damage to opposing forces. But a hundred Level 15 [Soldiers] would not be worth the life of a single Level 30 [Vanguard]. So we sacrifice the many for the good of the few, that they might grow stronger. That is the difference between our worlds.” Erin tried to imagine it. It wasn’t actually that hard. It was like…superheroes. They could fight entire armies by themselves, and that was sort of like a high-level warrior, right? Lady Magnolia nodded. “Now consider this. What would happen if your world’s technology fell into Antinium hands? Or rather, feelers?” Erin tried to imagine that. Her heart sank.

Yep

Erin’s heart grew silent in her chest for a moment. She looked at Lady Magnolia. “Just because someone is really…really annoying or useless doesn’t mean they deserve to die.” “Neither does it mean that I should waste time and resources saving them.” “But that means you’re killing them if you don’t help. That’s wrong.” A sigh. Erin gritted her teeth as Magnolia looked at her. “What if they are a danger? What if killing them would save thousands of lives? Would that not be the most morally correct choice?” Now Erin was getting angrier. Magnolia was—well, she wasn’t a bad person. Maybe. But she was getting on Erin’s nerves. “You don’t get to decide that. God—gods know everything, so I guess if they existed, they’d be able to say if that was right or wrong. But the gods are dead. Everyone tells me that. So no one gets to decide if things are moral. You can kill however many people you want, but you can’t say it was the right thing to do.”

Point -- she's got hubris on her side - those bloody charm spell don't help with her perception of control.

“Will you protect this world? Save it? Do you simply want to live in peace? Or perhaps you would like to destroy it? Do you even care?” Erin opened her mouth, but Lady Magnolia silenced her. “I don’t believe you have an answer that would not prompt me to throw something at you.” “I do.” “Really? This tea pot is quite heavy and quite expensive. I would hate to waste it.” “I want to protect the people around me. That’s all. I have friends. I don’t want them to die. I want to help them, and some day find a way home. And live in peace. That’s all.” Lady Magnolia stared at Erin for a while. “Hmph. Well, at least you don’t have small dreams. Well then, Erin Solstice, delightful and infuriating as this conversation has been, I believe only one thing remains for me to do with you.” Erin tensed. Ressa had moved behind Magnolia, but she was fast. “And what’s that?” Lady Magnolia smiled. “Send you home.”

Oo

Ressa made no reply. Magnolia sighed, louder. It was hard to poke fun at Ressa. Either the woman took it, or she hit you. Either way, you lost. “Do you think I was too harsh on the girl? I placed a tremendous burden on her shoulders.” “I believe she will be equal to the task.” Ressa said that thoughtfully as she paused in opening a drawer.

Oo

Niers grunted as he kicked the sealed envelope’s lid off and noticed the delicate, gold-edged card. Of course. It had to be from her. What a waste of time. Any message sent by a Courier was almost always opened within seconds of receiving it. That was because no one would send pointless letters at such expense. That damned Magnolia Reinhart knew that, and so she sent Niers letters constantly, forcing him to open them on the off chance he was receiving vital information. How he hated and admired that woman’s twisted mind. But Niers knew what he would see the instant he pulled the delicately scented card out of the envelope, and he tossed it on the table after only a few second’s cursory study. “Pick that up and dispose of it, would you, Umina? And if the others smell of lavender, rosemary, raspberries, or any other floral scent, discard them too.”

:)

Moreover, he feared that if he ever did talk to her, she would offer him a prize he couldn’t refuse. And he was loyal to his Company and his commander to a fault; far better not to be tempted in the first place. “Try not to agonize over the woman too much, would you? Magnolia Reinhart’s mind would put most [Strategists] and [Generals] to shame and we have a battle to win.” Cameral nodded gravely and the others shifted, as if they were children being caught in a mischief. It always seemed to amaze them that Niers knew what they were thinking, but of course that was just their imaginations. He simply knew what they would do because he had been like them, once.

:)

It wasn’t just a small thing like losing a game. Niers had invented chess, mastered it. Between his levels as a [Strategist] and his own long hours of study and passion for it, it was fairly safe to say that Niers could win most games while he was still asleep.

That's taking parallel evolution to an extreme ... why would pawns & knights have the same movement constraints if it was a spontaneous creation? Oo

High above on his tower, the lonely king had looked up and seen the vast fish swimming through the sky. He stood up and saw it swim past him, a beast unimaginably beautiful and mysterious, a thing that defied words. A terrible, wonderful, lonely creature waiting for someone to join it. And so the king had leapt from the tower built of his conceit and tried to learn to fly. And he had felt, for the first time in decades, the sense of inferiority, of challenge, that he had lacked. It was wonderful. And as Niers had played he had known it in his bones. He was not good enough to match this mysterious player. Not good enough. But he was close enough that neither was alone any longer. A wonderful thing.

:)

No. His gut told him that couldn’t be the case. He had invented chess; how could anyone reach that level so quickly? That was the secret, though, wasn’t it? Already an entire continent had hailed the game Niers had created as a masterpiece, not only a wonderful pastime and source of entertainment for people, but an aid and means to become stronger for [Tacticians] and [Strategists]. But he hadn’t invented it. That was the grand lie, the little trap he’d set out in hopes of catching a far larger truth. And Niers had felt the first pull on the string with this opponent. “A Dragon might remember…”

Oooh nice plot hook there. ;)

Niers buzzed with curiosity. It was this he lived for. These last few wars his Company had participated in were dull to him by comparison. He was already rich and he had trained his armies to be one of the strongest on the continent. He had no ambitions but chess and finding the truth. The truth of the past that he had discovered along with the game long ago… “Who are you?” He could always find out, of course. It might take a week, but assuming no idiot started a war after this…he could be in Liscor even sooner if he made some arrangements. A [Teleportation] spell might cost him dearly, but he was more than able to buy however many he wanted. In that case, he could leave and be back in a day— No. Niers shook his head. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

:D

One Hive had fallen, and the continent celebrated. Yet the cost of that battle did not go unnoticed or unwarned of. Mages specializing in water magic warned of the effect the spells would have on the weather, and Sserys himself banned this tactic except as a means of last resort. “Dead gods, I have never seen such horror. The entire Hive is dead. We know that now. All within are drowned and rotting—over a hundred thousand Antinium, possibly twice or three times that number. All dead. We burned the ground to ash, and then filled their tunnels with water. We made it rain until the world seemed as if it were naught but mud and rain. And the cost has taken its toll. I remember this land. It was green and lush, but now the ground is a swamp

><

The mages tell me that this magic has interfered with the weather. It will not rain here for decades. While it is a flooded place now, soon this will become an arid wasteland, fit only for the dead we have entombed. Never again. Not if I can help it. This war has made me sick, and I am tired of it. Let us finish this once and for all if we must.”

><

“It’s only a little farther. Can you walk?” She nods. I nod back. There’s nothing more to say. If I carried her I would fall within a mile. “I’m sorry.” How many times have I said that? How many times did I see it when I woke and remembered? Mrsha just looks up at me silently, her young eyes judging. But she can’t tell me how she feels. It doesn’t matter. I know. I know what it’s like, to lose faith in someone you admired. I failed Mrsha. I brought her stories and then death. I gave her a small dream and then took everything she had. I…this is all my fault*. *Of course it isn’t. I know it isn’t. I’m not responsible for all of it. I didn’t force armies to fight or make the Goblins kill. But it is my fault. Mine alone. Too late to go back. Too late to offer something else. She is all that remains, and I must take care of her. So I turn and look across the snowy plains. Something flits down into my line of sight. A body made of crystal and ice. Immortality frozen into the shape of a small faerie. She looks at me. “Yon city is but an hour’s journey away. Do not stop now.” It almost makes me laugh. The faeries are worried about us. About me. I look at her.

:(

I sit in the snow, flames gone. Embers remain, but they smolder on. Yet guilt and sadness are in me now, too strong to ignore. I’ve really made a mess of things this time, haven’t I? I thought a few potions and some alchemist’s tricks would change things. But I— I was arrogant. And now that arrogance has cost lives. If I had levels, maybe I would have gotten to Mrsha sooner, or maybe I would have been able to fight. Maybe— But now it’s too late. Far too late. Ever since that night, the voice of the system or whatever it was has stopped speaking to me. Usually, every night really, I’d hear some kind of notification in my head and cancel it. [Barefoot Runner Level 1!], or [Disciple Level 3!] after the fight I had with Calruz. Yet now that I’m waiting for it, I hear nothing. Nothing at all. I guess it just gave up on me. Or that was part of the price I paid?

:(

Ryoka watched Lyonette disappear. Mrsha had stopped playing with a ladle and was staring at the kitchen with interest. “She reminds me of a female Pisces.” “Even he wasn’t this bad.” “So why haven’t you fired her?” Erin shrugged helplessly. “Because I can’t. She’s got nowhere to go, Ryoka. And if I send her north a monster will eat her. And she can’t go into the city because all the Gnolls want to kill her.”

Oo