《Reincarnated Nobility》50: The Secret Message
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The King of Beraud led us to a comfortable meeting room. “Will this be a sufficient room, or did you need something specific?”
I looked around the room just to check, but the only window had heavy blinds to prevent outsiders from peeking inside.
“It will be perfect,” I replied.
“Then let us proceed with business,” King Ryne announced as he sat at the head of the table, “I must admit that I am very curious about this proposal of yours.”
I felt a shift in the air as if he had activated his ‘king’ mode. His gaze was piercing. It was clear that he wasn’t someone easy to fool. I took a deep breath. I had to be ready for at least this much as the tenth princess of Tethia.
“Then I will get right to the point,” I told him, “I wish to introduce trains to Tethia. I became more confident after riding on them myself. Beraud has an excellent means of travel that could benefit the entire continent.”
“That is true, but what is in it for us? You mentioned that this would be an equally beneficial deal,” the king pointed out.
“First of all there is our gift. If you would like, Alois can bring it while I explain the other benefits,” I proposed.
“Interesting. Please do,” the king agreed.
Alois left to retrieve the magic generator and guidebook.
“First of all, all rights and secrets of your technology will continue to belong to you. Rather than us trying to copy your blueprints and failing the true master craftsmen should be the ones in charge of this project,” I began.
King Ryne smiled. “The king and queen of Tethia have both agreed to this?” he asked, “What you are offering is the power for me to allow anyone I wish into Tethia. Are you sure that is wise?”
“You are our ally,” I replied calmly, “We have decided to trust in your judgement for this. Do you not consider yourself trustworthy?”
He chuckled. “Very good. Continue.”
“Here is a map that we created to propose the areas for the train tracks. If there is any trouble with the land that makes it impossible for a train to run through, I am sure that we can take care of it, so let us know.”
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King Ryne took the map and looked it over closely. “You certainly did your research. Your practical understanding of trains and how to use them exceeds my expectations.”
“Thank you, but I am afraid that I must admit that I had help from the travelling merchant, Silas Toll.”
“That in an of itself works in your favor,” King Ryne replied, “That merchant only helps those who have gained his respect. He works for himself and fears no one. If he was a king, his country would be the most powerful on this continent. I am proud that he was born on Beraud soil.”
Alois came back with the magic generator and guidebook inside an ornate wooden chest.
“May I open this gift you are so confident in?” the king asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
He undid the clasps on the chest and raised the lid to reveal the gently pulsing lamp and the matching guidebook.
“This is?” he asked.
“This is the first magic generator that Tethia has ever created. It is a magic tool that can generate magic outside of Tethia. You will find all of the information you need to know in the guidebook there.”
“It seems I have truly been defeated,” King Ryne chuckled, “You have left me with no room to argue. Your preparations were perfect. I approve of your proposal.”
He closed the lid on the chest and had a guard take it to a safe. Then he walked over to a set of drawers and took out a set of papers. He quickly wrote up an agreement and handed it to Cassandra.
“Any further action will have to be taken up by King Nero,” he informed her, “There are some details that I am certain he will want to sort out personally no matter how much he trusts you.”
“Thank you,” I replied again and took the paper. Written on it was a promise from the king of Beraud to cooperate with the train project and a request for an audience with King Nero. “I will deliver this upon my return.”
After that, we naturally parted ways. I collapsed on the bed in my provided room and blew out a large breath to relieve some stress. Somehow or another, we had convinced him easily. In the back of my mind I was concerned it was too easy. There was also the deal with the mysterious scepter.
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What exactly was Osmond’s idea of a true Tethian?
I looked at the promise the king had written and noted there was a second paper stuck to the back. I separated it and the first thing I noticed was my name. I stiffened and quickly scanned the contents.
“Dear Princess Casandra,
I believe the contents of this letter concern you greatly. What I have to say involves what Osmond told me of the true nature of Tethian magic, the scepter, and the decay of Tethia. As someone the staff recognized as a true Tethian, this information is yours to use as you see fit.”
The rest was written in a handwriting I recognized as Osmond’s.
“The decay of Tethia is imminent if things continue as they have until now. The entire role of the Head Magician is to fill the country with fake magic and make the citizens reliant on it. While at first this may have raised natural affinity in the people of Tethia, now it seals those with genuine power and marks them as powerless.
True magic and fake magic cannot exist together. That is why I created this staff. In the hands of a true Tethian, it will glow blue. Give this to that Tethian and they will wield the power to unseal the real magic and rid Tethia of the cursed fake magic. This may temporarily weaken Tethia, but if we wait too long, real magic will cease to exist and fake magic will take over. This will not just affect Tethia.
I hope that you understand the weight of this issue, and I place the hopes of the future generations in your hands. By the time you are reading this I may already be dead. It is the price I must pay for my sins.”
At the bottom of the note was Osmond’s signature, but i noticed some small water stains as someone had cried while reading or writing this letter. Neither King Ryne nor Osmond seemed like men who would be quick to cry, but considering the contents of this letter, either one of them might have.
I looked it over again and frowned. If what Osmond wrote was true then that explained most of his actions, but it did not explain why he killed Mickey or why he had been so desperate to keep it a secret. I needed to investigate this further.
This wasn’t just a matter of personal curiosity anymore. It was a serious diplomatic issue, and I intended to get to the bottom of it. Alvis acted as if he knew something before, so he might be a good start. I might also have to ask Reginald and Yuki some questions, though it was possible that Reginald would have no answers.
The hardest person to understand in this position was King Ryne. Every time I thought I understood him, he revealed a new side. Alois had mentioned that Osmond used to visit when he was the headmaster. It was possible that they might be good friends.
A sudden thought struck me. Going by the letter, a true Tethian was someone who had magic sealed away by this fake magic. I remembered being disappointed when I found out that my magic potential was weak compared to the other princess candidates. However, this letter stated that everything was backwards. If I am weak in fake magic could I be strong in real magic?
Then there was that scepter. If I used it, would I be able to unlock the true magic within myself? Would it give me answers?
On the other hand, this could be a trap set by the enemy. I needed to be careful with my decisions. In the end, it led me right back to where I started. I would get nowhere without more information.
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Congratulations, You're Dead!
*Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* "Uh, whatcha doing there System-chan?" *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* "You know they can't understand you right?" *Ding* "No need to get rude. Fine, I'll leave you alone to do the synopis." *Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding**Ding* *Ding*. "Well, you heard the lady, go read it."
8 191To Build An Empire
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8 154Dauntless: Origins
Snow white hair, blue eyes, pale. Devil, monster, mutt, failure.This story follows one Tyr Faeron, crown prince, heir primus and mass murderer. A wrathful, angry, and lost young man that has made it his goal to hunt down the men that killed his mother - and he is on the cusp of finishing the promise he'd made before her cairn stones so many years ago. On the surface he is duplicitous, whimsical, and base of cunning - but within the depths beyond the many masks he wears, something is waiting. Waiting for an end, the end he'd come to long for, whether it be to himself or any possible threats in his vicinity. After that long labor of vengeance is completed... Nobody knows, not even him - an arrogant and otherwise solitary individual with nothing in the way of friends - only the brothers of the blackguard who follow him through life as he pursues this mission. He was born a prince, but he'd be called a disappointment - failing to manifest the great power that he was born to before being summarily discarded by his father, a 250 year old 'primus'. That word again... Men who can shatter mountains and level cities, that's what he was supposed to be. Some call them demi-gods, all Tyr sees is a poor excuse for a parent. Time had made him bitter, cruel, and arguably psychotic - seeing only enemies wherever he looks. They'd come for him, too, one day - to wipe the slate clean and make room for another - and it's his conviction to ensure that he dies while taking as many of those rats with him. This is a story about finding acceptance, growth, and understanding - from the point of view of a cold and brutal individual who wears many masks. Of someone who was born to be the greatest emperor the eastern continent has ever seen - but he failed in that. Strong, yes, but only in the context of a man - Tyr's magic is weak. His convictions are weak. He has been made a beast of instinct by loss and a constant confronting of his own impotency in the face of his father. A mythos that stretches across planes, of magic, a pantheon of cruel gods. Of someone who's dedicated his entire mind to the art of killing a man, and none to living a normal childhood or coming to understand friendship, empathy, or compassion. The first five years of his life a mystery, a hole none have ever been willing to fill, leaving him warped and twisted. His formative years gone and what must've been most of his humanity along with it. Now 17, he is on the cusp of leaving the city he'd never been permitted to leave for what might be the first time in his life. Always searching, though he won't know what for, for some time. An episodic that follows experience and symbolism rather than a never ending series of battles - where the conflict lay in constantly searching for wholeness in lieu of great villains or heroes. This is where it all started, the origin, the tale told a million times - and yet it hadn't been, 'reality' is tricky like that. The greatest lie ever told by the tongue that speaks is that any of this was real at all.
8 248Hand of the Goddess
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8 233Tale of the mage hero [Completed]
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