--- Rickhart

Oh, my. Oh, my. To think such huge people could exist outside of fairytales.

Rickhart made his entrance into the outpost. It was the foremost camp built by the people of the West, the culmination of a plan that had required at least six months of his time. Escorted by six of his best cultists, ready to give their life to fuel his magic, the young necromancer walked without seemingly any care. He was well aware that showing even a glimpse of fear would have meant the risk of losing the Barbarians' trust, a trust that was already flimsy enough.

Thanks to his grandmother, Rickhart had obtained an enormous amount of knowledge about those men and how to make deals with them. Most of those who lived in the Free Kingdoms or in Cassidia were too scared by them to get that close, and didn't have any reason to do so. The necromancer, on the other hand, had plenty.

"Who are you?" asked one of the guards, a hulking mass of muscles and pelts. "Entering our lands means death."

His crude accent disgusted Rickhart. He would have killed the man on the spot, if it weren't for his mentor's instructions and the arrangements he had worked so long to make.

The way they talk is so... Uncivilized. Screw it. I didn't come all this way to bear this.

The tingly, familiar feeling inside his mind was already showing signs of impatience, so the boy decided to answer as fast as possible.

"My name is Rickhart, big guy. Your chief should be expecting me. You aren't planning on harming his guests, are you?"

A bit confused, probably because of the language, the Barbarian simply shook his head. Only some among those people spoke the common tongue, and even less were able to express elaborated concepts.

"Stay here. All of you. I go and tell the chief."

"Alright, alright."

The guard gave Rickhart an irritated glare and walked away, but the young necromancer didn't pay much attention to it.

If he wants to scare me, he's very much mistaken. Damn, I hope his boss is more receptive-

A flash before his eyes and a brief surge of pain blurred his senses for a moment. Grandma didn't like when he wanted to do things his way.

"Fine, fine..." he complained, in a half-voice. "I won't screw this up. Why didn't you come with me, if you didn't trust me?"

Because there's something else I need to get prepared. Or you have forgotten, dear?

The necromancer glanced at his scarce escort. The rest of the cultists were with the old woman, gathering things for her grand creation, so there was a good reason why Rickhart couldn't bring more puppets with him. It put him in greater danger, but his grandmother had assured him that the Barbarians wouldn't have appreciated if he had showed up with a bigger group anyway. He needed to be smart, and show that he wasn't a threat.

"I haven't forgotten," he whispered, studying the absent expression of one of his servants. "These empty husks... I can't believe they would be helpful in your experiment."

The voice replied, this time more gently.

Every life, even the most insignificant one, can be used for our purpose.

"But you also taught me that ours are more important. Right, grandma?"

That is right. You and me were made for greatness, child. Keep having faith in me, and don't forget what's our goal here.

The conquest of the world... It seemed so far away the day she had first talked about it. Yet, after scheming for so long, their objective was getting closer. Rickhart only needed the cooperation of the people of the West and everything would have been ready.

"Yes..." the boy murmured. "My rightful prize."

Speak with the chieftain, my pupil, and hurry back to me. When you return, I'll show you the results of all these months of work. Believe in your grandmother.

"Little man," said the guard, who had just returned. "My chief awaits you. Only you."

With a smile, the necromancer made a gesture to his followers and let the huge Barbarian show him the way.

The final part of the plan will begin soon. I hope you are ready, King Sebastian, for we are coming. And there won't be anyone with the power to stop us.

***

--- Elise

Stupid rain.

Like ambassador Virgil said, the winter in Cassidia wasn't remotely as cold as it was in Fradot, but the weather could get much worse at times. The wind had been sweeping the sea for one week straight now, and didn't show any sign that it wanted to stop. With the palace being that high, the howling of the air could be heard almost in every room and the servants were constantly running around patching the windows with blankets and other stuff, to keep the cold outside.

In days like these, King Sebastian ordered the military to intervene and help around the city, because there was a high risk that buildings could be damaged or even collapse. Luckily, that didn't apply to the upper sector, on the top of the hill. Everything there had been designed with durability in mind and even if most structures were five centuries old they seemed to withstand the fury of the nature just fine.

The only problem was that general Cremont was busy, and Elise had to put their lesson on hold. Not that the man, loyal as he was, wouldn't have found a way to instruct the princess, since his devotion towards the royal family could reach maniacal levels, but there were more pressing things for him to manage at the moment.

Still, I'm bored again. I already had my sparring with master Anton today, and he's already gone home. He must have gotten soaked to the bone, with this rain...

A person came running through the corridor, all of a sudden. The girl immediately recognized Mary, the young Mage she had met during the trip to Norburg. She was coming from a part of the palace that was mainly columns and open crossings, and looked in a hurry.

"Cold..." she panted, stumbling in the direction of a torch. "It's so cold..."

The apprentice made a satisfied sound when she finally approached the fire, getting her hands warmer with it. Elise realized that she hadn't noticed her presence, else she wouldn't have behaved so casually.

"You must really hate winter," she said, trying to get her attention.

Mary shivered and became pale, turning towards her. "Ah... Your... Your Highness. I'm sorry, I was so absorbed in my problems that I didn't even pay my respects before-"

"Calm down, calm down. Why are you always so anxious? You don't need to be so formal."

The two had spoken just one time, but Elise had already figured out her type. She was capable and talented, but awkwardly clumsy. And she had also spent more time with a certain someone than the princess herself lately.

"My apologies, Your Highness. I'll be on my way."

The pitiful glance she gave to the warm torch made Elise feel guilty of her interruption.

I wonder if...

"You are Marianne, right?"

"You... You can call me Mary if you want, Your-"

"Stop it. My name is Elise. Use it, please."

Mary replied, "Sure, Your... Elise. Sorry again if I made a scene, a minute ago. I'm used to act more formally than this, but this cold..."

"Say," said the princess, getting closer to her. "Would you like to drink something hot in my quarters? If you don't have anything else to do, it is."

Why am I asking her? Since the moment she entered, I stopped feeling depressed. Maybe it was just loneliness... No, who cares? I just want to know her better, that's all.

The other girl looked back at her, completely startled.

"Do you... Really mean it?" she wondered, cautiously. "I mean... I still have a thing or two in my schedule for today, but..."

"Let's go, then!" exclaimed Elise, grabbing Mary's arm.

After another moment of disbelief, the young Mage simply smiled and followed her.

I've never seen anyone who seems so happy. I must have made her day.

***

Elise and Mary took place in front of one of the huge fireplaces in the royal apartments and were served a warm cup of dark tea. The Mage drank it in small sips, showing more than one sign that she was very fond of it. Meanwhile, the princess struggled to find a topic for their conversation.

Damn, I've never had a female friend before. The last time we saw each other Roric was there and things were easier. Not that we went much further than our introductions, anyway. What are girls supposed to talk about, when they are together? I...

She realized that her guest was taking quick glances at her, from behind the cup. Her eyes looked curious, but surprisingly tired.

"Is the tea to your taste, Mary?" Elise tried to ask, with an unnatural, cheerful tone. "My lady-in-waiting told me it came from the South, over the sea. It's a bit old, but was preserved properly."

"Then... This must be a very expensive treat," replied the other girl. "Bringing in products from Arabat is dangerous, and the ships... Well, the trip is dangerous. Only a handful of merchants are able to make it there and back."

"Huh? I'm not surprised that a Mage knows about those lands, but... Trading? You seem well-versed in-"

Mary became as pale as a ghost. For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the wind, then she began justifying herself. Like she had anything to justify for.

"Ah... You see... The Circle is always in need of reagents and... Other rare stuff, so it's only natural that a member has at least a fair understanding of how difficult it is to obtain them..."

That doesn't sound convincing at all, but I won't pry. That's her business, and it's not like I invited her with the intention of putting her into an embarrassing situation.

"I see. Thanks for the clarification."

The room was engulfed in an upsetting silence, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. It was nice to be in the company of another person who wasn't a servant, a noble or Lady Annette, but that was starting to get weird.

Moreover, the princess had something she really wanted to ask.

"Mary... Did you happen to see Roric, by any chance?"

"Ah, yes. Sure, I did."

"And... How's he doing, I wonder?"

"Your Highness... I mean, Elise," said Mary, "Are you worried about him?"

Yes, I am.

"Not really, he's a skilled guy. I'm sure he'll manage," answered Elise, even if that wasn't the truth.

On the other armchair, the young Mage sighed.

"You know, it's good to see that you still believe in him. I thought you were mad at him, after the incident."

"But I am!" exclaimed the princess. "Only... I'm not sure he deserves all this trust. He lied to everyone, basically..."

The brown-haired girl chuckled. "Oh, come on. Sure, it surprised me too when he shot lightning from his hand in Norburg... But in the end he probably saved our lives. He hasn't done nothing wrong, especially when taking into account how he was treated..."

Yet, he is an Elemental... A member of a race of slavers and murderers. I don't want anything to do with someone who represents them...

Like she could read into her mind, Mary went on. "It's true that he isn't what we expected, but it doesn't change the things he did... You are going to forgive him eventually, right?"

I still don't know.

"I still don't know, Mary."

"I see," replied the young apprentice, then she blinked back.

Huh?

"He isn't one of them, princess. He is a good person, at least to my eyes."

"Maybe you are right."

In the end, as she watched Mary going on her way, Elise found herself again wondering if all the anger she had felt towards Roric wasn't just a product of her own selfishness. She had yet to clear things up with him, but now at least she was sure of something.

She might become a good friend, but... I'm jealous of the carefree way she's able to talk with him. I'm jealous of her.