Chapter 26: [Both] Roslain (Patreon)

Sunset Shore was far from a single beach. Most of the territory was rolling hills and wide plains that stretched for miles. It would usually take a week by wagon to traverse it, months if the merchants pedaled textiles and spices in the various townships and cities along the way. However, once he crossed well beyond the Everwood Empire’s reach, a fellow archwizard was waiting for him with a normal nightrider, a black, sturdy bird that was the size of a horse but graceful as the birds flying between trees. With haste, they made it to Duskwatch in the night, reaching it as the sun was cresting the horizon.

The name “Sunset Shore,” very untraditional for a kingdom, was a dream of King Elio’s back when he was the Emperor of Engimara, which once ruled most of what is now Cyrvena, Forge, Desiderata, and the Jynthra Rainforest (assuming someone could own such a wild and savage place). On one particularly hellish quest as they were passing past the Maelvine Mountains into what is now Jeongmal, their non-soul-reinforced soldiers sunburnt and groaning with trench foot, he had asked King Elio, [What are you going to do after this? Keep going?] King Elio shook his head. [Once I’m done here, I’m moving far away to some tropical island and watching the sunset daily from the shore.]

It took him a century, but he did just that a century later. When they got there, Edikus looked at him and smiled. [It seems you’ve finally got your Sunset Shore,] and King Elio smiled, taking a drink of wine as he watched the sunset. [It seems I did.] However, even back then, Edikus could see the darkness in his eyes; he had got his Sunset Shore, but it was at the price of over a millennia of death and warfare that ultimately only culminated in a truce and a life-long curse of having power that was twisted and heart-wrenching.

There was a price to King Elio’s power, and he found he couldn’t bear to use it after the Battle of the Sunji, where he and Emperor Temüjin fought their final battle, which ultimately led to the latter falling and the end of the war. The cost of victory was too high, and he abandoned the conquest and people prematurely, leaving it to his generals, who started carving up his empire.

He never returned. Even when more transmigrators came to the world and conquered his old empire, he didn’t get involved, only using his power once to protect Novena, his new home, in a savage demonstration of force. But the toll of using it again was too high, and he spiraled into heavy drinking. Now, the Sunset Shore remained, but Edikus’s Emperor was long gone, lost in drink as wide and deep as the sea.

Still, flying over Duskwatch, a gorgeous city that was crested in jewels that matched the clean, sparkling waters of the Mystic Azure Sea, he couldn’t help but think that somewhere in that beautiful landscape, his Emperor remained.

Flying into the city, he was met by Felix, a man that King Elio had taken under his wing when he was fifteen—for whatever good that was. He was Ryker’s age now, a prior suitor of Princess Redfield’s hand in marriage, and he was at the suitor’s tournament. Now, he was before him, helping him with the reins.

“Greetings, Edikus,” Felix smiled. “The King’s been expecting you.”

Edikus’s heart skipped a beat, but his optimism was drowned out by Felix’s arrogant smirk. “What’s that look for?”

Felix chuckled. “It’s just amusing you’d think he got his act together.”

Edikus frowned. “Where is he? I need to speak to him immediately.”

“You know immediately won’t happen.”

“If it isn’t now, it won’t be ever.”

“You know he’s in no shape to take visitors.”

“Of course he’s not,” Edikus scoffed. “But it’s the only time he’s sober.”

“Fair enough,” Felix sighed. “Follow me.”

The two walked right past the castle, which was near the beach, where a large manor greeted them right off the sand. It was reinforced by a concrete predecessor and fortification arrays. It was an extravagant use of magic just to let King Elio walk straight onto the beach, where thin trees with glossy leaves gave shade to banquet areas on the shore.

Edikus stormed right into the building as Felix watched helplessly, moving past dozens of women who were lying on communal sleeping arrangements in the lobby after long nights of drink and dance. Men, too, were invited to these parties, but for obvious reasons, they were not invited to stay.

Up a flight of stairs, there was a grand ballroom that was one large bedroom. While walking into a king’s chambers was usually grounds for execution, people frequently came and went in this room. For that reason, King Elio didn’t even stir in his sleep when Edikus walked in. Moreover, in sheer defiance, he barely reacted when Edikus aired out the room of Tecta smoke from last night’s drug-fueled frenzy. King Elio was reinforced with almost two millennia of soul mana, much of which he earned in battles with the death of thousands. So he could push the limits as far as they would take him without ever falling into physical disarray. But the mental habits remained and cursed him for centuries.

“King Elio. I must speak to you,” Edikus declared over the sound of groaning women. King Elio stirred, saying, “Go away. Come tonight.”

“Sober.”

“No. Now leave.”

“Now.”

“Edikus. If you don’t leave, I’ll snap your spine,” King Elio declared sluggishly. If Edikus got too close, in the man’s current state, he probably would. He’d regret it, of course, but he had likely only gotten an hour of sleep, and he needed five and a trip to the bathroom for the toxins to clear from his system.

“Please,” Edikus said—to no avail. Edikus spent twenty-five minutes persuading the king before he said, “Alright, alright, and got up. I guess I’ll have to kill you,” panicking the silk-laden women. But, eventually, he calmed down and grumbled, “Alright. I won’t kill you. Let’s get this pointless conversation over with,” walking to the bar in the room, pouring himself a glass of spirits in a large cup, and downing it to the brim, something only an Immortal could do to “sober up.” Then he walked onto the shore, groaning and griping before eventually sitting down on a small table on the beach with squinted eyes. “This better be good.”

Edikus exhaled in exasperation, trying to find the words to appease the man but knowing it would be to no avail. There was nothing he could say that was going to get through to him, so he said, “I’ll be blunt,” and pulled out a King Killer and put it on the table. “This is a problem.”

King Elio sighed and rubbed his eyes. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘And?’” Edikus huffed. “Do you know what this is?”

“I do. It’s a new weapon. Quite powerful at that.”

“And?”

“And what, Edikus? It’s too dangerous for the world? If we said that every time new technology came out, we’d be at war until the end of time.”

Edikus’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You saw this weapon kill my men. It’s killed more since.”

“Your fault, both of them,” King Elio replied, blinking multiple times.

Edikus gritted his teeth and looked away. “Yes. That’s true. But it doesn’t change the fact that it can kill anyone. Even you.”

“So what, Edikus?” Suddenly, King Elio’s eyes sharpened, and his alcohol-laced stupor was suddenly gone. “Are you going to destroy it? Prevent the people in Antigua from recreating it? Or are you here to ask help for me to help you monopolize it for you, the just ruler that knows what’s best?”

Edikus turned away. “I came here to discuss what we should do about it.”

“Well, now that you’re finally here, I’ll tell you what I recommend.”

The past lower general looked at his emperor, hanging on his words.

“Do nothing.”

“Nothing?” Edikus asked in shock.

“Yeah, nothing. The damage is done. That weapon’s part of Solstice now, and every child with a dream of killing a ruler is going to get one. It’s a fact of life.”

“And you don’t think that’s irresponsible?”

“I think it’s natural,” King Elio replied. “Past rulers brought their guns and tricks and trades to this world. The difference is that it’s vastly superior, yes? It can finally challenge your might.”

“It can finally allow Antiguans to attack this continent.”

“And that damage is done. Your options are inaction and monopolizing the technology. King Everwood’s control of the weapon is irrelevant. If you want to blame anyone for that weapon, blame yourself for not killing him. You’d be a monster and hate yourself, but at least I could sleep.”

Edikus swallowed. That was really the root of it: should we, the Wreaths, the people who protected Novena for centuries and protected the world from Emperor Temüjin and Novena from the Grand General, seize the weapons and rule the Everwood Empire? That’s what the majority of the Wreaths advocated for; that’s what King Elio did not. Edikus was in a state of flux about it. “At least tell me why. Are you still unwilling to use your magic?”

King Elio tongued his canine with a blank expression. It was as contemplative as it looked, but the contemplation was about whether to shatter Edikus’s spine. Still, he held back, probably to protect his old friend, the only one he still had, and looked away.

After a moment of silence, he declared, “You’re blind, Edikus. All of you. Look around; King Everwood has united Novena, the people are prospering off cheap grain, and the standard of living has improved. Metal is now affordable; he’s helping common folk to learn how to read and write. He’s sharing his technology and constantly improving the world.”

“And he’ll destroy it—“

“Enough!” King Elio simply looked at Edikus, and the table in front of them exploded in a rain of wooden shrapnel from an invisible impact. “What type of dystopian underworld do you think a man like that stems from, Edikus? You think it’s full of smoldering ruins and death, but King Everwood somehow learned ways to make people prosper?” he scoffed. “Let me tell you what I think, Edikus. I think that King Everwood knows of weaponry that far surpasses this toy you’re afraid of. His books on anatomy, physics, and metallurgy prove that. And yet the world still stands, just as the world still stood after Emperor Temüjin’s magic slaughtered millions, and my magic slaughtered an equal amount. It still stood after Emperor Napoleon’s guns and every other piece of magic and weaponry before it. I think that King Everwood knows what he’s doing, and you and the Wreaths are just afraid—afraid to be rendered useless and insignificant. Well, if you’re afraid of that, do what everyone else does—conquer the Everwood Empire, seize the guns, and do it your way.”

Edikus was taken aback, and he spent five minutes in brooding silence before asking the question he dared not ask before. “So you wouldn’t stop the Wreaths if that’s what they chose?”

“I wouldn’t.” King Elio turned to the ocean with an annoyed expression. “But I’d judge you till the end of time for forgetting our purpose.”

“The Great Calamity?” Edikus asked grimly. “King Everwood’s technology remains. His books remain. His businesses and research departments remain. By the end of the century—“

“Leave.”

“What?” Edikus asked in surprise.

King Elio looked at him with a contorted snarl. “I said, leave. If you’re too blind to see that my magic isn’t enough; Napoleon’s guns weren’t enough; the entire fucking world’s power might not be enough, you’re a fool. King Everwood is abiding by his pact with his goddess, for better or worse. You, people, are just jealous fools who think that you can do better when you haven’t done a goddamn thing for this world aside from existing as a deterrent. He’s changing the world; you’re not. You’re just a petty ruler.”

Edikus stood in a fury, but King Elio slapped his hand at dead air, and the man flew across the beach, crashing into a wall. Then King Elio walked up to him and threw the King Killer on his dazed body. “Next time you raise a finger to me, bring King Everwood’s weapons just to remind you that you’re unable to fight the Calamity, unable to fight your battles without someone else’s work, and foolish for thinking that a toy would be enough to kill me. Now leave.”

Edikus took a sharp breath with primal fear stirring in his mind. Then he got up and took the gun, walking away. As he did, he looked back at his friend and emperor, sitting on a chair looking over his Sunset Shore, and sadness filled his heart. Then he passed by Felix, the smirking heir apparent, mounted his nightrider and escaped to the west, where decisions and destiny awaited.

2

I woke up the morning after sending the letter to King Edwar and sighed. While I had conquered Servene, I honestly wish it had taken longer. The truth of war is different than it might seem; you can’t just conquer in a straight line like it was a band’s world tour. Every kingdom you overthrow has dissidents and disgruntled people waiting for any opportunity to rise up; there are past generals moving in the shadows, bargaining and trying to build armies to stand up against you. And, while it seemed foolish, if history teaches anything, it’s that you can win battles and seize countries, but you can’t snuff out guerilla warfare. If I were to leave Servene, I’d lose it; sure, I could just retake it, but it would become more politically perilous the next time.

My only option was to spend the next year in Servene with Rema and Zenith, setting it up as a margrave territory of the Everwood Empire. We’d have to spread the news of King Bouchard’s death, which doubtlessly hadn’t reached most of the serfs and laborers that made up most of the citizenry, most of which were still in the dark by barons and margraves trying to prevent panic or losing territory prematurely.

Things took time, and just as Alexander the Great built cities as supply lines, we’d have to start consolidating our power. So that’s what we did.

We started with rebuilding Harbor City, where we were paying the citizenry good wages to rebuild the ghost town, establishing goodwill and economic dependency, and fixing our shipping problems simultaneously. Once completed, we’d be resuming trade and building the supply lines that would fuel the rest of the war effort.

So that’s where things were at present. During the morning, I spent time making speeches, selling cheap grain, and announcing projects; during the afternoon, I spent time in the audience chambers with Zenith, grooming her as a margrave; and the nights continuing my work with Scribe, producing textbooks to continue my education programs. Thea put together lesson plans, and I dictated policy from afar.

Rema was fast at work, building a cabinet. She rooted out the corruption that directly affected the citizens and unjust taxation, promptly stripped nobles of their titles, and gave the money back to the people. It was the cheapest, most effective way to buy the support of the citizenry, and Rema made a spectacle of it. Soon, she had a cult following, and we had to boost Zenith’s reputation, as she would be their ruler.

To do that, Thea ordered the Swarm to follow Zenith’s orders. Unfortunately, the stubborn creatures didn’t follow anyone without power. Zenith was furious and transformed into her ethereal form, and Thea had to wrestle control of her after she killed a dozen luges, which gave up after the first death.

Once the people saw Zenith leading the hundred surviving luges, the treasure of Servene, in the sky, it solidified that the Everwood Empire would be a permanent entity. Even without me, the walls, luges, and a dragon-sized wyvern could destroy any army that came its way. They were officially convinced.

There was only one immediate problem—Celestium. The signs of a coup had started weeks ago, and it was time to make a decision on it.

“Roslin has the public’s support,” Rema announced, walking into the room. “What do you plan to do?” We were in the war council’s chambers. It was a massive room made of marble and gold, adorned with so many decorations a person would think they planned to hold a party for the war council in there. A dozen floating pens were transcribing books when she walked in, and they didn’t stop when she started her questioning.

I pursed my lips in a straight line. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“We can’t wait for long. Roslin is more capable than we expected.”

“I know. That’s why the decision is hard. Competent people are easier to manipulate in political situations. King Edwar is useless in that arena.”

It would be easy to conquer Celestium, but we didn’t need their territory, army, or ports. King Raestaor of Rythorin had ports that would put us just north of Desiderata, allowing us to conquer the desert country. Our problem was gaining legitimacy for our extrication of Garfield Redfield, who, we learned, was not a king or shadow ruler. Instead, he was something of a religious, enigmatic, and powerful shaman and advisor. As a major religious figure in Drak’thul, the capital city of Desiderata, there was a slim chance that King Mar’trok would hand him over, and with his unknown magic, Garfield wouldn’t go down without a fight. Once we did that, our potential for trade relations with Desiderata to obtain oil would be shot.

Thus, we needed a legitimate reason for conquering Desiderata. If we just subjugated the country, it would cause intercontinental panic in Antigua as Marvis and every other kingdom would believe they would be next. Given the speed at which we conquered Servene, they would likely band together to fight us to prevent mutual destruction, just like Britain, Russia, Prussia, and Austria formed coalitions against France to stop Napoleon; Britain, France, Russia, and the United States banded together suppress Kaiser Wilhelm II in World War I; and the United States, United Kingdom, and the Soviet Union formed a coalition to defeat Adolph Hitler, Emperor Hirohito, and Benito Mussolini in World War II. Thus, we needed to ally with Celestium, Rythorin, and Fort Ambristel to collectively call for the extradition of Garfield Redfield and create a coalition to oust him—or go to war.

King Edwar was an easy puppet figure but useless on the world stage. Roslin Bouchard was competent and wouldn’t struggle on that part. She was the better option. Still—

“Roslin’s just as bad,” Rema countered. “She’s competent, but she’ll be quick to spread strife and hysteria if she doesn’t get what she wants.”

“Exactly,” I sighed. The problem was that we needed legitimacy; if we didn’t give Roslin what she wanted, she could play on the international stage, turning country hysteria against us and earning us countless enemies.

The floating pens floated to the table and lay beside the pages. “We need to see how her coup will play out for now. We’ll find a way to dethrone her. I’ll send her….” My eyes shot open.

“What’s that look?” Rema asked, anxious excitement glinting in her eyes.

“I wonder if my memory….” Scribe activated again, and I started transcribing a blank page on the edge of the table. After it finished, it floated to me. When I looked at it, I developed a dastardly grin.

“What is it?” Rema brooded at my silence.

I floated it over to her, and when she saw it, her eyes narrowed. “The extension request?” On it was a letter from Roslin asking for more time for Celestium to negotiate and implied that she would be the one to do it. “Do you want to send this to the other countries as proof of her coup attempt?”

I smiled. “No. I want you to obtain all the letters she’s sent to Gregof Reslee and her other lovers over the last ten years. I don’t care how you do it.”

Rema looked at the letter, and that’s when she saw it. “Consider it done, but why…. Wait. This is written in Roslin’s handwriting…” she whispered in disbelief. Scribe had recreated the letter she sent me with a picture-perfect recreation. It seemed like my memory was strong enough for Scribe to recreate images like this, at least small ones. “Are you going to….”

I just grinned. “Please work with haste. I have an idea to solve our problems.”

3

King Edwar sat on his throne with a nervous expression. He was feeling particularly nervous these days. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders for the first time. Ever since he got home and demanded his wife stay in the castle, he suddenly realized how much she was involved in.

Now, the constant memories of Roslin bringing him glasses of wine and hugging him from behind, moving her hands down his chest and whispering, [You must be tired, relax and let your cabinet take care of the minutiae] was probably a ruse, as she was participating on his councils and in the audience chambers as a proxy on his behalf.

Roslain was involved in the war council, talked regularly with the agriculture and the castellan, and greeted countless foreign emissaries besides those from her father’s territory.

He could now acutely remember the off comments that dignitaries and nobles would make, the ones he always pushed to the back of his mind and wrote off as the skillfulness of his advisors.

]You’re a wise king, Edwar,] a dignitary would say. [The plan to build the Lester Drawbridge was genius. We now have the advantage against Tidalith.]

[When did I agree to that?] he’d think, but he’d accept the praise regardless. How blessed he was to have such an amazing cabinet, he had thought; how blind to believe them, he now believed.

Now, he felt corrupted, violated, and manipulated. Not just by his wife and council but by King Everwood and that disgusting cookie of Roslin and his sullen threats. Because no matter how much speculation and floating information was crashing into his mind—he didn’t know.

Yes, King Edwar suspected that Roslin was cheating on him long before he caught her in the act; no, he wasn’t surprised the day he found her. But he never doubted that she [loved] him. Roslin just had sexual needs, and he never felt he could provide that to her. But she always served his, and did so with so much passion and sweet words that moved him.

And yes, he knew his cabinet was making decisions behind his back, but he didn’t doubt their loyalty. The kingdom had run without incident for decades—until King Everwood showed up and made him doubt every word and statement that they had ever made to him. King Everwood was the problem; things were going well, and the foreign king had every motive to sow distrust in his cabinet. Yet he still got into his mind, cursing him with paranoia and heartache.

[Damn him. I hope he’s banished to the Underworld for this,] King Edwar thought, and that sentiment festered when the promised summons never reached him. He asked and asked for it, prepared to speak to King Everwood as a king. He was still sitting on his throne—not Roslin. This was his kingdom, he wanted to tell him that. But no summons ever came.

Roslin had come into the audience chambers and ordered everyone out gently. [There’s no word coming from King Everwood tonight, love. Please come to bed.]

[No, there’s something… wrong.] When King Edwar looked up at her, he saw that she had opened the coat she was wearing, exposing lingerie. [What are you wearing? Here? In the audience—]

Roslin put her finger on his lips. [I’ve just missed you,] Roslin said. [So I want to prove that to you and apologize for my behavior all… night… long.]

King Edwar’s eyes had lit up. After a month of torment, he [wanted to believe] Roslin loved him; he wanted to believe his kingdom was his and his advisors would never betray him. So he let her lead him to bed that night.

The sex was passionate, and it whispered false dreams of security and painted lies that told him his wife was taken advantage of and that King Everwood was bluffing to sow strife and distrust. But after the moon rose twice over the horizon and the summons still had not come, he asked every advisor that entered, [Where is the summons?] and asked himself if it was all a lie and King Everwood was just trying to make it seem like he sent a summons so he could wage war.

But on the fifth day, he got a letter from King Everwood. However, to his disbelief, it wasn’t handed to him. It was King Everwood’s declaration of War for King Edwar’s family to respond to his summons for negotiation, and it was posted throughout the capital on every street corner.

At first, he was convinced he was right about King Everwood manufacturing the war. But when Roslin disappeared from the council and his advisors informed him that hysteria was pouring into the streets, he started to understand he was set up. But it wasn’t until the mobs started flooding the castle’s courtyard that he got angry.

[Tell the people,] King Edwar had snapped to his advisors. [Tell them I didn’t receive that damn letter!]

[Yes, My Liege. Right away,] an advisor said, and for a time, he was satisfied.

Roslin still hadn’t returned.

[I should tell them myself,] King Edwar thought, but he was too scared to face the mob, too afraid to learn the truth.

Three days passed, and the people in the courtyard had grown as large as a sea, with people chanting for him to be throned. On the fourth day, his advisors had disappeared. On the fifth, the present, he was sitting in his audience chamber when the doors burst open, and Roslin and the head of the Royal Guard, Benedict, walked in beside her.

“Roslain! Where have you been?! What is the meaning of this?!” King Edwar demanded, striding to her. However, the guards put up their weapons.

“Stay away from the Queen,” Benedict ordered.

“Roslin…” King Edwar whispered, stumbling back with trembling eyes. Roslain was dead silent and frigid. She didn’t avoid his gaze, but there wasn’t a trace of empathy or love in her eyes.

“Why…?”

Roslain turned to Benedict. “Take him away.” Benedict and the guards complied, seizing the king. As they hauled him away, King Edwar laughed a vicious laugh.

“He was right….”

Roslain put up her hand, seemingly interested in what King Everwood thought about her, and the guards stopped. “Who was right?”

“King Everwood,” King Edwar laughed. “He knows about your infidelity; he told me this would happen. And since he was right, I’m now wondering if he was right about something else curious….”

Rolsain’s face showed a hint of emotion for the first time. “About what?”

“He told me the funniest thing, and I didn’t believe him. It was absurd. He said Benedict was your son.”

Roslain’s face didn’t move a muscle; her face was unrevealing, chiseled in stone. However, Benedict turned deathly pale, and King Edwar muttered. “So that’s true as well.” Then he laughed a haunting laugh as he processed the situation and remembered the cookie and King Everwood’s twice insistence on him executing her. “I hope you don’t plan to make up for my ‘shortcomings,’” he chuckled. “King Everwood doesn’t seem like the time to negotiate with an alliance-breaking whore.”

Roslain strode up to him and slapped him in the face. But he didn’t stop laughing because there was real concern in her eyes. “Take him away.”

As he was dragged out, he saw Roslin sit on the throne. She didn’t have the same confidence she had when she arrived, and when she was in the massive chair, she suddenly looked really, really small.

4

When King Edwar disappeared, Roslain took a deep breath and contemplated the words. [Of course, I know that he knows,] she thought. [Everwood killed all my past lovers…. Did I misinterpret it?] Gregof Reslee and her past lovers had been killed in the night over the last two weeks. [He killed them….]

At first, she was panicked when they and the soldiers guarding them started dying, but he was [killing them], not capturing them to testify to her infidelity. She thought that he was erasing any claim to her throne to prevent a future scandal. And so, she continued her coup, which aided King Everwood.

Roslin had started with whispers between the citizens that spread despair.

[King Everwood conquered Servene in one night. He’s a monster.]

[I hear he controls The Swarm now.]

[Did you hear? King Everwood rides a dragon. Not a wyvern, a real dragon.]

[Have you heard? He’s conquered most of Cyrvena. And it’s only been a week?]

Then Roslin’s whispers spread hope around the deadline.

[King Edwar is supposed to be meeting with him. We might be allies.]

[The letter’s coming tomorrow. Apparently, King Everwood’s fighting with Tidalith.]

Finally, once the letter arrived, she held it back from King Edwar and let it fester until the declaration of war came out, and she posted it on every street corner of Celestium’s capital and spread the word of The Craven King, who had condemned Celestia to ruin. It created panic, hysteria, and riots in the streets. Thankfully, she had a solution:

[King Edwar sent us into ruin. There’s only one hope of changing King Everwood’s mind—a new ruler.] And, naturally, that ruler was her.

Since Roslain already controlled the council and the guards, she made public appearances and built the citizen’s support until their anxiety boiled over and the hardliners gave in. Then, she executed the coup.

Now, Roslain was in a position where if she allied with King Everwood, the people would accept him; if she needed to go to war with him, they’d accept that, too. It was a masterful plan predicated on King Everwood’s willingness to cooperate with her and his apparent closing of scandals. Now, she was questioning that.

[Why did he kill them when he could have them testify if not to prevent a scandal?] Roslain thought in despair. She couldn’t think of a reason. Neither could her advisors. So it loomed over her like a dark shadow, eating away all positive feelings of celebration at her successful coup and washing her in cold anxiety.

5

A lone pen floated above the desk, writing on a piece of official letterhead from Celestium’s cabinet. In front of it were dozens of letters written by Roslain Bouchard to her past lovers, with countless pieces of paper with her handwriting and experiments. In front of me was King Edwar’s official seal, which I had stolen with the help of the resistance in the king’s cabinet.

When the pen finally stopped, I folded it with a thin smile and placed it into an envelope, heated wax, and placed the seal on it. Then the pen levitated again, and Roslin’s handwriting placed the address: “To Khanta Redfield.”

With a sly smile, I turned to a large Desert Hawk, a beastly bird with thick [fur] that covered its dog-sized body, on my window seal. I put the letter into the satchel on its back and whispered, “Off you go.”

With a hefty flap of its wings, it flew off to Desiderata, ruffling the practice pages on my desk as it flew away.

—

[A/N: Things are boiling.]