Spellheart 9: Chapter 13 (Patreon)

Despite the pressure on me, the Hearthwood was rather peaceful. I thought people would be more curious at all the Macmarks I was throwing around to make preparations happen across not just the Hearthwood but also our vassal territories.

But people were used to me having one hair-brained scheme or another in the works, so they took my orders in stride. I kept my lips tight about the end of the world as promised, though the Hearthwood’s matriarchs were all in the know by now, as were the most responsible of my children.

Argona had nearly panicked when I told her she was going to be locked in a bunker for years, at least until I told her that The Wanderer was probably the most secure place I could find for her.

“Oh, so I’ll still be able to get to my workshop?” Argona asked.

“Yes, you’ll still have your workshop. You just won’t be able to go outside. You’ll have to get your sunshine in the Pocket World and your entertainment in the Simulation Chamber,” I replied.

Argona shrugged. “So it’s just going to be the same as normal.”

Comela was a bit more distraught at the thought of having to get all the adventuring she could in ahead of time since she’d be cooped up for a few years.

“But you and my moms will all be free to roam the Primordial World?” Comela asked.

“That’s right. We’ll probably spend our time there. But you can’t come along. Not until you’re a wizard. And even then, you’ll be restricted to staying on one of the settled islands. The Primordial World isn’t safe for people at lower cultivation levels.”

Comela nodded solemnly. “I guess that’s just one more reason to finish building my aura so I can reach the wizard realm!”

Despite the increased activity, the Hearthwood was peaceful. I took great pride in the fact that we were able to preserve the majestic wild beauty of our home while also creating a dense metropolis of civilization. Layers of activity built upon one another, with a big chunk of the city fully underground and another nestled among the branches of the enormous trees overhead. In many ways, the Hearthwood was three cities stacked on top of one another, and each of them had countless shops and luxuries for any enterprising elf.

The monster population outside the city had been cut down to size, and what was left were harmless fluffy things that wandered around the verdant green woods and danced in the gentle breeze for the entertainment of those walking the well-groomed forest paths.

A crystal clear stream ran through the heart of the city, and my original attempt at a shelter had been preserved along its banks like a historical monument. Truthfully, it was a bit embarrassing to see so many people gawk and stare at it. I hadn’t really known what I was doing back then, and I certainly didn’t have any mastery of Earth magic like I did now.

But as with peaceful moments, one sudden event brought it to an end.

I was examining the delicate blossoms of the wildflowers just outside the city. Eltiana was tucked into my arm on my left, and Melise was on my right. Behind the two of us, Assyrus was struggling to cook lunch. I’d taken a brief outing with a few of my matriarchs to relax and get some more dual cultivation in. Each of them had made an impressive breakthrough, though I couldn’t yet say the same.

That was when Comela came for a message.

“Father, father!” Comela yelled from above. She was riding her Wyvern Queen again, freshly healed from her fighting against the dragons.

I jumped up in a start. “Pants! Pants! Where are my pants?” I yelled as I scrambled through the grass for my clothes.

Eltiana was a lot faster than me. The nimble elf ninja just rolled onto her messy heap and slipped into her garments a lot faster. Melise used a bit of magic to reverse time where she stood, and it was like she’d never taken them off. Only Assyrus lacked a trick to get dressed quickly, and she ended up wearing her shirt over her legs and her pants over her head when Comela touched down.

“What is it, dear?” I asked, shifting from lover to father as quickly as I could.

“Sorry, Dad. I know this is a bad time...” Comela shot a glance at Assyrus, who stood awkwardly with her pants on her head. “But I wouldn’t have interrupted if this wasn’t an emergency.”

I frowned. “What is it?”

“An envoy arrived!” Comela’s brows drew into a nervous frown. I noticed her nails digging into her palms.

“An unannounced envoy? Just have them wait in the castle until I’m done. I’ll see them in a few days.” That’s what I normally did when one of our vassal clans and kingdoms needed to get a hold of me. I was the liege lord, not someone at their beck and call, and Mac was always around to warn me if they had a real emergency.

“That’s what we tried to do! He turned furious and smashed part of the castle, then knocked over a chunk of the city. We didn’t realize until after, but he’s a demigod!” Comela yelled, voice frantic.

My face went pale, and I felt fire blossom in my gut. “Why didn’t Mac warn me?” I was on my feet in an instant, and Spell Eater was in my hand. I pulled Comela up behind me so we could keep talking as I flew. Melise, Assyrus, and Eltiana boarded their own means of transportation and were quick to follow.

“That’s the thing! Whatever he did knocked Mac offline. We think it was one of his demigod powers.”

I cursed. “Demigod powers?”

“Princess Tivana said she was outmatched,” Comela replied.

I growled under my breath.

“Alright, dear, I need you to do something. As soon as we get back to the Hearthwood, I want you to take the teleportation array to the capital. Remember my friends Sam and Dean? I want you to get them both and tell them everything you told me.”

“Understood, father.”

Normally I would want to do something as important as this myself or have one of my matriarchs handle it, but I feared I might need all my matriarchs to fight. Comela was not strong enough to help, but strong enough to use the teleportation array and resourceful enough to worm her way through the royal bureaucracy in minutes instead of hours. Plus, I’d introduced Comela to Sam and Dean so they’d recognize her and know she was my kid. Hopefully, they’d arrive sooner than later. Otherwise, I’d have to resort to something a bit risky if I wanted to take on a demigod.

I spotted the smoke and the ruins long before I arrived in the city. My mood turned darker the instant I saw it, and the only thing keeping me from crying out in rage was my need to stay in control for my daughter behind me and the rest of my people who needed me.

“Father...” Comela said, sensing my anger.

“The teleportation array is up here. I’ll drop you off,” I replied, gritting my teeth all the while.

After setting Comela on the ground, I took to the air again to survey the damage. The homes and buildings that once stood tall were now reduced to rubble. Several trees that were previously proud and tall were now shattered stumps. The massive trunks rolled over the settlement, crushing smaller buildings into rubble. There was even a chunk missing from Castle Mac. The stone broke off abruptly there as the rock facade crumpled away, leaving behind only the part that was actually part of The Wanderer.

Anger boiled inside me, growing stronger with every moment.

“Mac!” I called out, both mentally and aloud. There was no reply.

“Theo of the Hearthwood! I ask for a second time, where is your hospitality? The king of the satyrs graces you with an envoy from his royal presence!” A voice boomed overhead, shaking the Hearthwood.

I ignored it. I had more important things to do.

I found the remains of the nearest entrance to Castle Mac and barreled my way inside. I kicked aside the rock and debris, fury building as I noticed several members of the Whitewood Clan scrambling to remove toppled debris.

I waved my hand, taking control of all the earth zeal within the castle and forcing the stone back into its former shape as a wall along one side of the castle. Beneath, I spotted the bleeding and battered form of Pelise, my daughter by Melise. She was a healer by trade, and to lose her at a time like this was a terrible misfortune.

“Take her to the Medical Bay,” I instructed.

“Sir, the Medical Bay is still undergoing its upgrade!” The maid from the Whitewood Clan replied.

I growled under my breath.

“Mac, cancel the upgrade! We need that Medical Bay operational!” I shouted.

There was no reply.

My heart leaped in my chest, and I remembered Pelise was not the only one who needed my help.

“Argona! Where’s Argona!” I demanded from the maids. “Is she alright? I need her now. And where is Tivana?”

The maids each pointed in opposite directions, one to Tivana and one to Argona. I followed the latter first and found my most technically inclined daughter in the Drafter’s Study, slowly making her way to her battle golem.

“Argona, get to the Command Center and find out what’s wrong with Mac,” I ordered.

“But Dad!” Argona protested, still heading for her battle golem. “I can help!”

I had no time to argue, nor was I in the mood to. “Argona, as the Patriarch of the Hearthwood Clan, I’m ordering you to fix Mac!”

Argona stiffened in surprise. Ever since she’d manifested, I’d doted on her far more than her mother. She hadn’t been born during the early days of desperate fighting for the Hearthwood’s survival and knew me only as the laid-back king who was happy to let his people live as they pleased and looked out for them as best he could. She didn’t know how hard-nosed I could be when the going got tough, but she’d see a glimpse of it today.

“Understood, Patriarch,” Argona said. She changed directions and started jogging toward the Command Center.

I went the other way to rendezvous with Tivana. Our many sessions of dual cultivation meant I was well antiquated with her aura, and I found her soon enough.

“Tivana!” I yelled when I found her wiping blood from her lower lip. Her clothes were tattered, and it was pretty clear she’d been on the wrong end of an attack. My anger burbled all the greater. Hot blood pumped through my veins, and if I didn’t have my body cultivation, I probably would have blown a blood vessel from the pulsing of my temple.

“I’m alright, I’m fine,” Tivana waved me off. “But I’m not enough to deal with him. And you probably aren’t either.”

Tivana pointed, and I saw the man responsible for my growing fury.

The despicable cretin floated lazily above me, a pair of horns that were probably traditionally handsome masculine features. He had a beard and a sharp jaw that accompanied a tall and muscular build. He wore a finely tailored suit that would have been old-fashioned on Earth, but looked brand new on him. It was adorned with gold and jewels, no doubt of incredible value. The man made no attempt to conceal his demigod aura, and he looked down at the Hearthwood as though trying to see it past his own nose.

“Where is this so-called king of the Hearthwood Clan? I won’t ask a third time,” the envoy hollered over the screams of the people down below. He glanced down in annoyance and raised his boot like he was preparing to smash a particularly annoying insect. Only in his case, that insect was another chunk of my city.

My blood boiled at the sight, and I decided then and there that whoever this Satyr King was, he’d earned my ire. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after, but I would pay him back for this sooner or later.

The Satyr envoy lowered his foot, and I sensed a tremendous weight behind it, like he held back the force of a mountain with that one motion. He was using a demigod power to charge his attacks far beyond their normal might.

Grimacing, I knew I was the only one who could take an attack like that in the entire Hearthwood and make it out okay, so I dove beneath the Satyr Envoy’s foot.

I reached up and caught his boot with my outstretched arm. The attack knocked me out of the sky and sent me slamming into the ground. I bent my knees and held strong, absorbing the incredible force of the casual attack. I’d underestimated the might of that stomp. There were two mountains worth of weight beneath that boot, not just one.

When the dust cleared, the Satyr Envoy blinked down at me while I glared back up at him.

“You just made the biggest mistake of your life,” I growled. Demigod or not, I was furious with this man.

He laughed off my anger like a true mage might laugh off the anger of a mage acolyte. He waved me off like I was inconsequential, and my anger nearly bubbled over.

“Finally! I was wondering what was taking you so long to show up. You must be Theo, leader of... this...” He gestured to the ruins around himself with disdain written plain on his features. He ground his boot against my palm like he was trying to crush me under foot despite the fact that I’d already put a stop to his stomp. I didn’t budge.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say to this man, but most of them would immediately start a battle to the death, so I held my tongue. The best thing I could do for the Hearthwood now was buy time for reinforcements to arrive or for Argona to figure out what was wrong with Mac. So long as one of those things came true, I could deal with this bastard. But to get there, I had to keep him in the Hearthwood without causing any more damage.

“Who are you?” I demanded. It came out as an angry bark, but it was the most pleasant thing I could think of.

“Me? I come as an envoy from the Satyr King. The man you are so crudely attempting to imitate with your own title of king. Know that the lord of the World of Woods and Wilds has seen your laughable attempt to mimic his title and is greatly amused. I, his third son, Prince Tivir of the World of Woods and Wilds, do bear his greetings on his behalf,” the satyr envoy said.

“He was... insulted because some people call me a king?” My brows furrowed. There was more to this. I remembered that time I’d caught the Cult of the Unblinking Eye speaking with a handful of satyrs who looked just like the man before me now. They were up to something in this world. I just wasn’t sure what.

“No, no. He was insulted because you have something that belongs to him,” the satyr envoy began. “An elf whose wisp originally belonged to the World of Woods and Wilds before she fled to this backward world whose day in the limelight is long gone.” He looked around himself with a sneer.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m here for one thing and one thing only. To retrieve my father’s lost property. Hand over the elf, and I’ll be on my way,” Prince Tivir said. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but things have changed on the World of Woods and Wilds, and all the elves that once sought protection under the Fairy of the Immortal Glade’s banner are now the personal property of the Satyr King. You are harboring several such elves, Mayatania. I believe one was called. The other was Savatania, though the latter left the World of Woods and Wilds centuries ago. It’s long past time someone reclaimed that long-lost keystone elf.”

<Note>

So we’re finally doubling back to the satyrs. If you remember back in book 5 during Sava and her encounter with Mayatania, that’s where a lot of this started. It’s finally coming to a head!

I kinda introduced this plot line way to early, but ah well. Better late than never! The Satyr king’s machinations against the Fairy of the Immortal Glade, the Cult’s actions, and the end of the Seventh Golden Age are all coming to an end!