Spellheart 9: Chapter 62 (Patreon)

I wandered the palace, hitting the banquet halls and then the rest of the rooms one by one. There were many servants here, but I suppose that was to be expected of a palace. There were also a lot of trinkets to take.

While I didn’t like the look of the palace overall, the furniture was well made and looked very impressive. Far better than what I’d furnished my own castle with. There were exotic leathers from far off-worlds, fine works of art on every wall, and plenty of gold, gemstones, and zeal crystals on display.

The Satyr King wouldn’t need it anymore, so I helped myself. A few extra beds here. Some curtains there. A comfortable sofa. It was all a rather splendid collection of finds. Elven furniture tended to be smaller since it was all built with elves in mind.

I hadn’t even realized how uncomfortable the chairs I’d been using had been for me until I sat down in the one the Satyr King kept in his personal chambers.

“Absolutely heavenly...” I muttered.

I spotted a few maid uniforms, too. They were skimpy in all the right ways. In that one respect, I could congratulate the Satyr King on his good taste.

I was almost ready to join Sam and Dean in the throne room when I spotted something under a blanket in the Satyr King’s private quarters. There was a lot of zeal in there. As in, a truly enormous amount. More than I had seen anywhere besides Grognak’s palace.

Immediately, I was on my guard. Was this some secret weapon? It was the size of a desk and looked large enough to contain an elf, though not a Satyr.

A muffled voice echoed out from under the blanket. I frowned and listened. It sounded like a young woman’s voice.

“Pastries...” she muttered. “Yummy, yummy. The bad, horny man stole my pastry. Evil, bad, horny man.”

Suddenly, I had a good idea of what was under the blanket. Or rather, who was under the blanket.

I pulled it off, revealing a bell-shaped jar as large as I was. Within sat a sad-looking fairy curled in on herself. Her wings had been clipped short, and she held her head between her knees.

“Pardon my interruption, but you wouldn’t be the Fairy of the Immortal Glade, would you?” I asked the sad fairy curiously.

The fairy turned up to look at me, cheeks swollen and lips pouty. “Who’s asking?”

She looked much like the other fairies I had in the Hearthwood, though scaled up significantly. She could have been mistaken for a short and petite elf if she covered the stubs of her wings. She had long green hair with a crown of woven twigs and flowers about her brow, and her clothes were just a handful of leaves hanging in the right places through her magic.

“Patriarch Theo of the Hearthwood Clan, at your service.” I bowed.

“Are you with the evil pastry thieves?” the Fairy of the Immortal Glade asked.

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your pastries.”

“Then give!” She held out her hands and pointed to a plate resting nearby. There was a pastry on it with a single bite taken out of it. It was resting just beyond the glass wall of the jar.

Did I want to open up this jar? While the fairy within was far cuter than a can of worms ought to be, I still got the feeling that opening this jar would be something I couldn’t undo.

My instincts told me it would be the right thing to do. But I had more than myself to think about. I was Patriarch of the Hearthwood Clan, lover of my matriarchs, father to my children, and an important figure in the World of Sanctuary and Serenity. Who knew what kind of trouble an Immortal Ascendant could unleash, if given access to her full power.

On second thought, none of those titles included the word ‘philosopher’ or ‘navel-gazing prick.’

I was here and had the power to open the jar. It seemed like the right thing to do, so I would do it. Simple as that. Besides, if she was weaker than normal thanks to the destruction of her world, perhaps I could strike a deal with her.

I twisted the glass lid. The enchantments on this thing were truly incredible. It looked like there was some sort of draining functionality siphoning power from the fairy trapped within. The glass would be unbreakable, even to someone of my power.

And yet, all that power was contained with nothing more than a simple twist and lift mechanism. I lifted the jar off the fairy, and she blinked up at me in surprise.

I felt her power hit me like a wave. I had expected her to be diminished thanks to the destruction of her world. I wasn’t sure how similar fae cultivation was to Satyr cultivation, but I expected them to opperate off the same principles. Both drew power from Sacred Groves, but in different ways, so in theory the Fairy of the Immortal Glade's power should be shattered as well.

Not so. The Fairy of the Immortal Glade emanated the full power of an Immortal Ascendant. And I’d just unleashed her.

“Yay, pastry!” She immediately dove for the pastry left just out of sight of her jar.

That had been a cruel trick played by the Satyr King. He’d left something she’d clearly desired within sight but just out of reach.

When I realized she was more powerful than me, any plans to recruit this unreliable fairy to my cause fled. If she’d been reduced to the Demigod level or below, I could have made a deal with her. But I had no intentions of allowing an Immortal Ascendant anywhere near the Hearthwood. Especially not one as scatterbrained and unpredictable as this one was rumored to be.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your pastry. The World of Woods and Wilds is unfortunately destroyed. This palace will be too, so you’d better take your leave as soon as possible. This’ll be goodbye then! I wish you a nice life.” I waved and slid out the door before the Fairy of the Immortal Glade could finish stuffing her face with pastries, wiping a bit of sweat from my brow as I did so.

***

As I made my way to the throne room, I heard Sam and Dean’s voices again, intermingled with the familiar petulant tone of the Satyr King. This time though, that voice was coming from his real body.

When I finally entered the throne room, I saw Sam and Dean had the Satyr King pinned down. Dean had his knee on the back of the Satyr King’s neck, keeping him face-down on the ground.

Jade Sava was also there, standing by the empty throne with her arms crossed. She was a bit worse for wear, and whatever Mayatania and the Whitewood sisters had done to make her look like living flesh had failed.

She was now quite clearly a golem made of green jade. Cracked jade at that. I could see the spiderweb lines running down her cheek and around her body. Someone had quite violently slapped her across the face. She looked like she was holding her body together with her crossed arms.

The fighting must have gotten fierce at some point, but Sam and Dean won in the end. Likely when the planet blew up and the Satyrs lost their power.

The Satyr Demigods were piled atop one another like so much kindling. The destruction of their Sacred Groves had robbed them of most of their power. Whatever was left drifting among the scattered chunks of the world slowly dying in the void wouldn’t last long, but hopefully long enough to make the trip back home. Still, just to be safe, Dean had crafted a pocket space for them, leaving the Satyrs truly helpless.

I’d been so obsessed with creating a Sacred Grove of my own after witnessing Prince Tivar’s power.

Now that I knew the trick to beat them, I was growing increasingly less impressed with the form of cultivation. Blowing up their planet was all it took to completely cripple their entire civilization. Really, it was just sad.

I was still shaking my head when I entered the room. The Satyr King’s furious gaze found me immediately.

He was the picture of unconstrained rage, and if zeal had still been coursing through his body, I probably would have seen steam pouring out his ears.

“You!” he spat. “What kind of trick have you pulled on us? You’ve hidden the palace in a pocket space to get the better of me, have you? Probably with the cooperation of one of my worthless sons. I’ll have you know I have nearly a hundred loyal demigods! You’ll be destroyed soon. Just wait!”

I blinked at him, surprised at just how wrong he was. Then, slowly, a smile spread across my voice. “Oh, your majesty, I think you’ve misunderstood the situation.”

“What do you mean? You’ve devised another trick to separate me from my Sacred Grove?”

I shook my head. “The Palace is not stuck in a Pocket Space. I picked a far more permanent solution.”

His eyes widened, uncertainty creeping into his bluster. “Then... where are we? Where are my people? My kingdom? My Sacred Grove?!”

“Gone. All of it is gone now.”

The Satyr King shook his head, eyes wide as he realized the implications of what I was saying. Still, he asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“Your planet has been destroyed. Every Sacred Grove that once lay upon it now lies in pieces. Every last one of them is gone. Your power base is broken. Your kingdom is destroyed. Your subjects are drifting through the void and slowly turning into ice cubes.” When I finished speaking, I loomed over him.

He didn’t look like much of an Immortal Ascendant now. Certainly not on the same level as Grognak. Or even at the same level as the Fairy of the Immortal Glade.

The Satyr King looked up at me. “You’re lying,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” I challenged, hands spread wide. “Then where is your power? If I’m lying, strike me down with the cultivation of an Immortal Ascendant.”

The Satyr King lay face down on the ground.

“That’s what I thought.” I smiled. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t care if you believe me. I’ve done what I meant to do.”

As the reality of his situation dawned on him, the Satyr King’s haughty expression crumbled. He stared up at me, eyes full of fear for the first time since I’d met him. “Please,” he begged. Until now, I hadn’t even known he could lower his voice. “Let’s negotiate. You have my word that I will leave you and yours alone from now on. What are your terms?”

I turned to him, expression hardened. “I was willing to negotiate before. I negotiated in good faith after your last attack. Then you went and spat on our agreement by attacking me again despite your promise. Your word is worthless to me.”

“That was before!” The Satyr King yelled. “If I’d known you could do something like this, I wouldn’t have attacked you! You weren’t supposed to be a serious threat to me. Look at you! You’re a Demigod. How did that happen? I thought you were just a Sorcerer!”

I scoffed and cut him off. “It’s too late for negotiations, Alistair. You’re not a king anymore. You’re not even a cultivator anymore. Just a dying man trapped in an empty palace and hurtling towards his doom. You will serve as a warning to anyone else who dares come looking for what is mine.” I bent low, meeting his gaze. He kept his eyes on the ground, but I grabbed him by the horns and forced him to meet my gaze. “You shouldn’t have touched my city. And you definitely shouldn’t have come after one of my women. Hopefully, your story serves as a warning so others don’t make your mistake.”

The Satyr King let out a few blubbering and pleading words, but I ignored them. I’d heard enough from him and was ready to put him out of my mind for good.

I turned to my friends. “Sam, Dean. Let’s get out of here.” I shot a glance at Jade Sava. “And you too.”

I waved, opening a Pocket World Passage back to the Hearthwood. The pieces were in place, and my work was done. It was time to return home to watch the show. Jade Sava scurried through the portal first, with the three of us following close behind.

We left, and I closed the portal behind me. Once we were through, Dean flashed me a big thumbs-up. “Damn, Theo. That was some kick-ass revenge. I knew there was a reason we missed having you around.”


<Note>

Last chapter coming Wednesday! After that, we will (hopefully) be starting Amazon Apocalypse 2!