Kalie Rana

With a deep breath, I steadied myself, and slowed my steps. While it wouldn’t be too difficult to rush down the stone path to the pavilion, I knew better than to do something so “unlady-like.” As much as I didn’t look forward to it, this whole event would only be made that much more difficult for me and the Cerith if I didn’t play along.

As I approached the thin curtains that spared the pavilion from the sun’s harsh rays that were baring down on us due to my earlier work, I heard a gruff voice from inside.

“Just one will do.”

“Only one?” My Father’s words stumbled as they came out of his mouth, “I thought that you were here for all three?”

“I won’t be repeating myself.”

“Only one for what, Father?” I asked as I pulled open the curtain.

“Ah!” The king’s neck almost snapped as he turned to see me entering the pavilion. “It’s nothing my dear. Gentlemen, the third Princess of the Cerith, my youngest daughter, Kalie Rana.” Seated in the center of the pavilion, mere steps from my Father’s chair, was an imposing mountain of a man, adorned in deep-onyx medals on his bright red uniform. The man didn’t turn his head to look as I entered, only his intense gaze landed on me. “Kalie, this is the Grand-Admiral of the Nine-Flagged Alliance’s southern fleet, Hark Arconan.” As Father led me in front of the man, I finally noticed that behind him, practically hidden by the admiral’s imposing mass, was another man. The second man’s eyes didn’t even rise up from the book he held in his hands. Something about the book seemed familiar, but my attention was much more focused upon the man, who didn’t deem it necessary to interrupt his reading for a meeting with the King.

“Gentlemen, it’s very nice to meet you,” I began, “it is as my father has said, my name is Kalie Rana, and I am delighted to meet with you, as a representative of the Kingdom of Cerith.” I stopped myself from bowing, instead remembering Maria’s instruction on mainland customs, I pulled the unwieldy sides of the dress open as I lowered myself into something that resembled a curtsey.

Raising my head, I looked straight at the Grand-Admiral, only to deflect my gaze from his unflinching, painfully stern expression, instead focusing on the reading man. Or rather, it would be more accurate to call him the man who was reading. His gaze was upon me as well, but it was somehow different than the Admiral’s. The two of them shared several features uncommon for the Isles, dark sharp eyes, hair as black as the medals on the Admiral’s chest, and skin so pale that it was almost ashen. I had never met anyone who looked like they did, in this life or the last, but beyond that there was something more about the man watching me. There was something that I just couldn’t place as his severe gaze racked me up and down.

After an uncomfortable moment, I stood. To my surprise, it was the secretary that spoke first.

“You’re the one they call the Petrel are you not?

“No sir, I am not. My grandmother is the current Great Petrel.”

“But you are the next in line, are you not?”

“They say that sir.”

“There’s no need to call me sir, I am just a humble secretary,” the man corrected. “But, I do have to ask, you are a majin, are you not?” That was the question that I knew was coming. In the Shattered Isles, there was nothing but admiration amongst the people for the majin. But, the words of my Grandmother still rang in my mind ever since she said them to me all those years before.

“While the power we few receive is ordained by Leona above, it is not something that those unblessed will willing abide.”

It hasn’t been so long for the memories of the persecution of majin on the mainland to fade. Who was I to know whether these men were here to bring me back to their king, or to see me executed. But, regardless of what came next, I had no choice but to tell the truth.

“I am sir.”

With my admission, it was like the air within the pavilion began to harden with tension. Flexing around the Grand-Admiral, who’s expression, and posture had not changed at all. The moment that I spoke, I began to sense a change in the flow of mana within the room. With his every passing breath, the Admiral—consciously or not—began to pull great amounts of mana within himself. To an outside observer, there wasn’t much at all to be seen—the intense man was breathing exactly the same as before—but to anyone who could really see it was obvious that he was gathering mana, in the same way that a majin might’ve. Within five breaths, the man had commanded the airflow within the pavilion, drawing the flecks and motes of mana into large patterns that all converged on him. While that was probably more than enough to disarm an untrained majin, and was absolutely sufficient to affect a mundane, the man’s technique was nothing short of childish when compared to Grandmother’s.

Although my attention had been paid fully to the secretary up until that point, my eyes were drawn to the Admiral’s, as the small storm of wind mana began to silently crescendo, just beneath the fabric of our reality. The storm itself was deafening to my majical senses as the effects of it engulfed the Immaterium within the pavilion.

But, just as suddenly as it began, the storm ceased. The tension in the air that had been oppressive, disappeared just as instantly as the majority of the mana that was in the pavilion. Then, I realized something. Within the few seconds that he had performed his spell, the Grand-Admiral had moved, if only slightly, and he was now looking directly at me.

I’m sorry, but was that a threat? Or was that an attack?

“I’m sorry gentleman, there’s…” My father’s words faltered, as he sat heavily back into his soft chair. “I feel quite woozy. I think I may have gotten too much sun. Yohann! Fetch me some water. Maybe some wine as well.” Father called beyond the fabric walls of the pavilion.

As my eyes met the Grand-Admiral’s, I realized the intention of his actions. Where before, I had received nothing but glares and a rocky facade of an expression, I found something very different waiting for me. An animalistic smile had cracked the man’s lips.

“How about you Princess? Did you have too much sun as well?” asked the Grand-Admiral.

“I am well sir. But thank you for your inquiry.”

Neither then, a test is it?

“Yohann! Where’s that water!” Father shouted again, drawing the admiral’s attention only momentarily. Seeing my moment to respond to the subtle attack, I responded in kind.

“Father please, allow me.”

“What? Kalie, wait!” Even in his mana drained state, he realized just how dangerous my help could be if I overstepped some cultural taboo. But I had a feeling that this was something much more than just a conversation between an emissary and a king, about some sort of political marriage. Snapping my attention to him, Father’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. “Are you sure?” If this was a challenge of some kind, then it was one that I couldn’t allow myself to pass up.

“Of course. Why don’t I provide a refill for all three of your cups.” The predator’s smile on the Admiral’s face grew even more sadistic as he realized exactly what I had in mind. “Would you mind?” I asked my adversary.

“You’re free to try,” the Admiral replied.

“Thank you. I will do my best.” I raised my left hand up to the ceiling, humming as I did so. With a deep breath, I began to focus my own mana into my left palm, creating a beacon which drew what remained of the ambient water mana particles to it, bundling it beneath the fabric of reality, just as the Admiral had done moments before with the wind mana. But, as we weren’t on the open ocean nor were we above a body of water, the water mana here was thin, but that was no issue, I had more than enough mana just waiting for me to retrieve it from where it had been greedily stolen just a few moments prior. As I focused my energy, to press the water mana through into reality with my left hand, my right hand had begun my true aim for this demonstration. Like strings pulling upon a puppet, thin tendrils of my own internal mana reached out of my fingers toward the Grand-Admiral.

As he had done before, the man—aware and welcoming the assault I now realized—began to affect the airflow in the room again, in an attempt to disrupt my tendrils. His technique was impressive, enough to fight off my assault without so much as invoking a spell, forcing me to lighten my attack for the moment while I dealt with the other pressing matters. First, I manipulated the crystal clear ball of water to pour a portion of itself into my father’s cup. Then, my tendrils engaged with the Admiral’s swirling defenses, as I approached the end table beside the secretary.

“Would you prefer water, or would rather have some wine?”

“Wine? Truly?” the secretary asked, watching the ball of water dance above my left hand, completely unaware of the battle that was occurring between myself and his boss within the Immaterium at the same moment.

“Of course!” The discovery that I was able to manipulate the state of the water was completely by accident. How I had done so was a bit of a mistake. The action itself was not, if I was being honest, but the idea of recreating some miracles from my old life absolutely was. Lets just say, that Lyia and Malik were confused as to why I was bursting with nervous laughter after I managed to transform water into wine. “I believe that I have mastered the flavor of the red wine famous in the southern mainland.”

“From the Lacan protectorate?” The secretary asked in a monotone that still betrayed what seemed to be excitement. The greatest betrayal being his raised eyebrow.

“I believe so. I have only just begun to be able to stomach the stuff, but it is a favourite amongst my father and many of his dinner guests.” A lie ten times over. Once I managed it the first time, it became an almost daily ritual of mine to imbibe from my own supply.

“Well, I would love to try it.”

“Of course! Please, allow me.”

An increase in the tune of my hum, more mana flowed into my left palm. As it reached a critical mass on the edge of my skin, I grabbed the clear water ball from where it had swirled in the air. As I did so, a thin stream of red wine drained from the bottom of my fist into the secretary’s waiting cup. The secretary’s serious expression maintained as he pulled the cup to his lip. With him distracted, I barred down on the Admiral, my focus almost completely free to finish what I had started.

“This is wonderful!” This time, as the secretary spoke, the monotone his voice held before, fell away, finally revealing his true excitement.

“I’m glad that you like it,” I said as politely as I could, given the situation. I turned away from the secretary, and found myself fully staring down the Grand-Admiral. It was clear to me that the man who was sitting before me was not only a majin, but an incredibly powerful one at that. And, he was testing me.

I was not willing to fail this test.

“Now, Admiral,” I said as I took a step in his direction, extending tendrils from all ten of my fingers towards him. The invisible mana whips swiping through the veritable storm of wind mana that he had whipped into a flurry within the immaterium. “It seems that I have run out of water for yourself. I do apologize, but if you’ll bear with me for just a few moments, I should be able to gather together a few more drops for your cup.”

“Will you now?” The Admiral said, through gritted teeth. Feeling the first slash of his own mana cutting through the immaterium at me, I stood firm. My instinct was to jump back, avoid the incoming blade, but decorum ruled at the moment. His attack was dangerous enough on a personal level, but Leona only knew what the repercussions of the Grand-Admiral of the Nine-Flagged Alliance cutting down not only the third princess, but also the Great Petrel’s heir apparent would be. Although the effects could be disastrous, I welcomed the Admiral finally coming on the offensive once again. His blade slashed at me again, and this time, I was ready for it. My tendrils wrapped it tightly, ensnaring it still.

“I believe that it will only be a moment now,” a smile broke across my lips as I spoke. The Admiral grunted as he tried to yank the blade free, but with a way through the storm, the remainder of my tendrils quickly slithered down toward the man. “Here we are! I’ve found just the font of mana for you, Admiral.” With a final press of my will, I stabbed the tendrils directly into his mana core behind his sternum.

All that’s left now is to take what’s mine.

With a trio of quick whistles, I commanded the Admiral’s exposed internal mana out and toward me in a steady flow. Pulling one of my hands free, I once again began pressing the raw mana particles through the fabric of reality transforming them with my own will. “So Admiral, would you prefer water, or wine?”

“Water.” The Admiral struggled to raise his head to meet my downward gaze. I couldn’t blame him, the feeling of a direct mana drain was not a pleasant one. And in a situation like this one—one that called for the utmost level of tact—it would be unbecoming for him to screech out in the pain he was no doubt in. Finally, as I poured mana rich water into his waiting cup, our eyes met.

“Thank you,” he managed to speak with something that resembled the same gravitas and strength as he had before.

“You’re very welcome.” The moment the last drop fell into his cup, the Grand Admiral greedily sucked down the cup of water, like an orphan who hadn’t drank anything in days.

And with that friendly exchange, our battle was over. I stopped the flow of mana from the Admiral’s core and pulled all of my tendrils back to myself. And with a flick of my fingers, I dispersed the build up of mana back into the pavilion, which readily accepted my offering.

As I sat down in the chair prepared for me behind my father, the Admiral and the secretary exchanged a glance and with a single nod from the Admiral, the secretary closed the book he had been so engrossed in when I arrived.

Was he even aware of what just happened? Maybe he’s a majin as well?

Father, still reeling from the effects of the pavilion’s mana drain, seemed a little out of it, but, seemingly unaffected by the drain, the secretary continued his line of questioning.

“That was a wonderful example of your abilities. Are you only capable of performing water majics?”

“I think that you are probably aware of this, but no, I am also able to manipulate the wind spirits as well.”

“I’m glad that our information is correct.” The secretary finally smiled, a false hollow smile. “Well M’lord. I believe that we are all done here, unless there was something else that you would have us talk about?”

“You’re done? Already? What of my other daughters?” Father asked, finally reeling from his stupor. “My other two should be on their way shortly. I assure you.”

They were not. I could assure him, but I chose not to.

“There’s no need. As we said before, we will be taking only Lady Kalie.” Hearing in no uncertain terms that I would be leaving Cerith produced a pair of conflicting emotions. The stronger of the two was the desire to run away at that moment, just to get away from these men. But, the second, the insidious one, was excitement. The thought of leaving the Isles and seeing the world beyond excited me in a way that I never felt before. And with each passing moment, that excitement grew.

“That’s not what I agreed to when your people first approached me. The deal was for all three of them to be taken to the king’s city, not just one!”

“The fact of the matter is this, our Lord, the White Raven, is not interested in your other daughters. Kalie here is the one that he is interested in. So, now that the confusion is settled, we shall be leaving.”

“What? Already? I can’t!” Although my father had echoed my same sentiment, even I was surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth at that moment.

“What?” The secretary who had fully taken control of the conversation in the Admiral’s stead, didn’t appear to receive my defiance well.

“I… I can’t go just yet. I need to… I need to see Grandmother at least, before we go.”

My father looked at me. Even though he was unhappy with the situation, it was obvious that he understood my trepidation. “Gentlemen, if I may ask a favor of you two? There is a pressing matter that my daughter will have to attend to before she would be ready to leave for the mainland. Is there any way that you would be willing to set sail tomorrow evening? Then we could include Joanna and Ashrel.” At the mention of my sisters’ names, the secretary’s static expression morphed into a frown. Father, oblivious, either willfully or otherwise, continued on. “How about you go now, dear. And the three of us can reach an agreement that is satisfactory for all of us.”

“I suppose we can wait until then,” the secretary said sourly, before then producing a small slip of paper from his breast pocket. Upon it, he made two quick slashes with a charcoal stick, and returned it to his pocket.

“Wonderful! Kalie dear, please be sure to send down Joanna and Ashrel when you get to the house.” The man, already as calm and collected as he could be despite the mana drain, was lying through his teeth.

“Of course Father.” And I of course, was happy to help him. We both knew there was no way that either Ashreal or Joanna would be arriving. While the armada was at our shores, and there was even the smallest possibility that they would be forced to leave, neither of them would show up.

So what did that make me? A sucker probably.

Getting back to my feet, the energy that I had spent in my assault was suddenly very obviously missing as I found myself struggling against a slightly spinning room. “I will take my leave then. Gentlemen, it was nice to meet you. I hope that my demonstration was to your liking.” Upon my mentioning our contest, the Grand-Admiral looked at me and nodded slightly. It was more than I expected, but the swell of pride in my stomach was immeasurable and enough to help me leave the pavilion on my feet.

Looking past the admiral, my eyes met with the secretary’s. His cold sharp features, on his cool ashen skin, were betrayed by something in his eyes. Something about his gaze was almost antithetical to everything else about him. It was like everything but the very windows into his soul was nothing but a mask hiding what lay beneath.