Eli POV

My limbs were tired, my fingers were on the knife's edge of frostbite from working without gloves to make enchantments, and the only meal I had to look forward to was some travel nuts and dried jerky. For all the bother and grumble, I had probably done more to achieve my goals this afternoon than I had in all these past weeks. Contentment forced itself on me as I pulled into a rocky shore away from the mainland and fell asleep as such. When I woke up in the morning and bathed, I was of the same opinion and that general mood carried on for my day of travel and another night.

It was only as I approached Crasden in the early morning along the coast and saw a few pillars of black smoke rising out of the city’s direction that the mood finally soured. Going up to full speed, the city came into full view after a few seconds on the open ocean. In front of the new ocean fort lay the half-hull of a ship amidst a mess of splintered wood with copper shielding and sails. Judging from the massive spikes poking out of some pieces and the occasional body, it looked like the ballista and catapults mounted on the sea stronghold had done their jobs.

What was more concerning was the two intact pirate ships docked on the right side of the harbor. They bore the copper hulls and spikes with odd bits of stone, fire, or water on the ends and had fully disembarked their crew judging from the lack of any movement on them beyond the occasional lookout strolling on the top. Looking over the situation, I saw a lot of fighting in front of the Harbormaster’s office but most of it was concentrated past the building towards the slum, Rains Drip. Looking over the situation, I decided the direct approach would minimize casualties the most. As my boat came up to the back side of the outer ship, it occurred to me that Gula was probably back in the city, setting up some business in her warehouse if I remember our sparse correspondence these past few days.

My fingers squeezed the handles of the controls as my blood began to boil.

“Oi, What’s you doing?” A call came from above.

My only response was to construct a massive earth spell just outside of my hatch.

“Unless you want a bolt between-“

The voice died as a giant slab of stone suddenly appeared above the ship. By the time it finished falling, it fully formed from the spell. Any crew inside only had a loud whoosh of air to go on before the rock more than half the size of their home crushed them into a paste. Even among the clangs and screams of battle, the death cry of a three-story ship couldn’t be ignored. Guards and pirates alike stopped as a thunderous chorus of splintering wood rolled over the battlefield.

From the angles of the pirates on the surviving ship, they couldn’t see me among the wreckage as I quickly shot behind them.

“What’s going… Shit!”

Their cries did nothing as another boulder fell on their heads and mangled their flesh and blood into the wood of the third wreck in the harbor. In my current spot, I couldn’t properly see the battlefield now, but promptly fixed that as I pulled away from the first massacre I committed here. Pulling up to a dock near the harbormaster’s office, all my mind focused on was how Gula could be dead. Sweat doused my forehead and molten rage warmed what had been bits of winter on along my hands. A shaking palm wiped the sweat from my forehead. I could hear the blood pumping into my ears as the numbness of long travel blasted away in the wake of what I was certain was a coming panic attack, sending my chest heaving until…

Cold.

Hatch opened. A water spell to pull a mist out of the ocean. Five and a half seconds before the battlefield was blanketed in white fog with a wide cone in front for vision. Wooden dock, slightly wet. Potential slippage. Three men coming down the dock. One in front with a flaming sword. Pirates. Two water blades across the throat and a spike through the right eye.

Past them, the harbor master’s office. Enemy in disarray, confused, still pressing the guards up against the building. Harbormaster behind one of the top windows, dodging and throwing water blades from her own spells. Odd. Jeff, assisting from another window. Thirty-two water blades through the heart, lungs, or neck. Three officers cut through the leg tendons for future torture.

“Hello,” The harbormaster called. Unharmed. Fighters up against the building were scared. Either of me or the fight. Instructed to cut off pirates' exit.

Past the office. Open stone road blocked with enemy. Fifteen stone spikes through the head. Three mothers, five children, and two men on the left side of the road. Civilian clothing. Dead. Mages quarter…quiet. Ugly tower section. Quiet. Sounds from slum indicate enemy activity. Mana getting low.

Entrance to slum wide open, five houses torched beyond repair. Flames at several homes dotted around the back hills. Sound indicates closest battle is to the left. Five guards and seven pirates at an intersection. Three stone blades and four water spikes, all through the head. Further down the right, more enemies. Three throats punctured with water spikes. Other earth mage, launching boulders. No threat. Discussed enemy further ahead. Four skulls punctured with stone bricks. Mana depleted.

Back at harbor to remake several spells. Returning to slum. No fighting. Pirates in the middle of entrance surrounded by guards. On knees. No enemy. No enemy.

Blood swirled through my nostrils, the metal tang almost coating my tongue it was so thick. Prepared spells of brown and blue dissipated into nothingness around me. Sweat rolled down my… well, everything as I took in the scum who might have very well killed my wife. Looking over the rolling hills of the slum, I could see several deep gouges in the land. With some even exposing caverns below to what I assumed was the Orcs abode.

It took a moment, but I eventually took in everyone else, which was easy to do considering they were all staring at me. From the pirates to the guards, every pair of eyes was fixed on me. There was one green pair in particular that interested me. They belonged to the head of the pirates near the front. He had tanned skin and flowing black hair tucked under his hat with a big, plumy white feather indicating his high status among the damned men.

Using the last flecks of mana around, I shackled his legs in stone and yanked him towards me in the most ungracious manner I could think of. His sword and the usual assortment of daggers had been on the ground, leaving him no defense as he lay backside down in front of me. The man’s sharp chin quivered as I dug my boot into his chest, though he was wise enough to keep his protests to a pained groan. It was only a second more before the noise died down and I got the silence I wanted for my words.

"Someday, billions of years from now, the sun will explode. It will blast the land into chunks and send the shattered body of this dead world careening through the empty, infinite abyss. And every single second from now till that grand end, I’ll still be here, killing you.”

His face went white. Rage fed my purpose and when I began contemplating how to start, a drop of blood fell on him from my chin. I wiped down what I would assume to be a cut before taking in my full appearance. My whole wardrobe had been colored red. A few specks of color on my leather coat, white shirt, and black on my pants informed passersby what the original colors were, but the blood from the bits of flesh tucked into various creases had almost totally soaked through the fabric.

“Tilvor!” Someone called from my left. I turned to see the thin woman in brown and green leather with steel pads and guards that sat with Palta. Bella, if memory didn’t fail me. While not as bad as I looked, she hadn’t escaped unscathed. Her shoulder-length brown hair had a few cuts in it telling of arrows nearly making their mark.

“Your assistance in defending the city is commendable. Princess Palta wishes to see you at once.” Her brown eyes regarded me with some apprehension, but it wasn’t the fear all the others were regarding me with. “Please do not kill any potential sources of information on the enemy.”

I spared only a single glance for the man under my boots before I kicked him over, my eyes taking in the chaos sprinkled throughout the slum. Looking at the holes in the ground, I could see guards around them. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like any of the gouges were in the general direction where Gula would typically be found. Probably. Still… I couldn’t think of any lie that would let me go search among the ruins. That fact took my soul a moment to fully digest before I straightened up and moved towards her.

“Fine, lead the way…Bella?”

She nodded before turning around towards the walls surrounding the runt skyscraper.

“Yep.”

It was a mess on the way there. However quickly the civilians had been evacuated, far too many had been caught on the roads. More than one had been crushed by their stampeding fellows rather than meeting the blades of the Mist pirates. Coming through the palisade, the grass yard was a mess of stretchers and bloodied mounds of bandages. More than a few had already been wrapped around the dead patient. Moving through the masses of exhausted doctors and messenger boys, I felt it would be unsavory to see royalty doused in gore and blood. I wrapped myself in a water spell with them ore abundant mana here while we made our way up the stone base of the glass and steel tower.

The mayhem continued inside where soldiers, officials, and every servant of every description were trying to get somewhere with wild panic coming clear through their eyes. Even the staircase on the left was crowded as the wide-open hall with paintings on the smooth stone walls and glass chandeliers seemed packed to bursting. Like last time, I was spared this challenge as Bella took me into the exclusive elevator on the right. I shuffled into the room with my escort in tow. The room had glass walls showing an expansive view of bare steel and the floor was simple wood, with a golden glow of a mana lamp in the ceiling showering everything in a golden light.

Bella quickly took out a key, a long tube of metal which she inserted into a hole in the wall before turning the dial beneath. We stood in silence for a moment as the elevator lifted off the ground and took us up to the top floor before Bella coughed.

“You were quite effective out there. From what little I saw.”

I nodded with a casual wave of my hand.

“All for the death of our enemies,” I replied as the imperfections in the steel wall zipping by showed our rather slow speed. “What are the casualties we’re looking at?”

She shook her head.

“We have no idea, yet. You coming in and slaughtering the scum cut the battle short, but we’re still trying to get a grip on things.”

“I noticed the mage quarter was conspicuously… unmolested. And there was a distinct lack of spell craft coming from anyone but you and me.”

A bitter smile stole over the brunette’s face, her sharp nose curling slightly upward in disgust.

“The associations don’t want to fight the pirates and they don’t really want them in charge either. When the Mist has fallen over settlements in the past, their infighting and feuds have resulted in harvests being ruined and it’s hard to make contracts with a governorship that’s constantly being replaced by backstabbing subordinates. All the same, fighting brigands isn’t gathering magical resources.

And the pirates don’t want to needlessly prick their hides either. The associations have lent us fighters when things got a bit too rambunctious, which was the only time we soundly beat them back.”

A delicate dance all around. All this maneuvering of governments, quasi-nation states, and borderless interests left one obvious conclusion: The Rodring kingdom was on a far shakier pillar than it appeared to be. If the thugs of the Mist ever decided to grow the brains needed to realize that proper taxation was far more lucrative than hauls of stolen goods, I hadn’t seen or heard anything to suggest the associations wouldn’t throw their weight behind them. Sadly, the movements of this performance have me right in the middle of everything.

Bella, however, seemed a bit more interested in me. Her brown eyes looked me up and down, scouring for something.

“Yes?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The first time you came in, you had a lot to say and a lot to show how you hated the pirates.”

I nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“Yet, when I saw you out on the field… you seemed calm.”

“Do you have any great hatred for the Mist pirates?”

Her teeth clenched together and a fire lit up in her eyes.

“In every way imaginable. Palta would have had to tie me to a metal pillar to keep me away.”

A moment of appreciation passed before I continued.

“Then know my heart holds a similar hatred for not just the Mist pirates, but all bandits of their kind. I suppose when I considered the death of my… girl, my anger reached its peak. A rare thing but it does happen.”

Her head slightly bobbed a bit as I tried to not throw up. Here I was, chatting and walking around while Gula could be buried alive under some mound of rubble. My hands started to shake, forcing me to divert mental effort to stop it.

“I can see that.” She said with a meaningful look at my clothes. Water could only lessen the ruin blood brought to cloth or leather and it was clear these were beyond saving with only splotches of their original color peeking through the deep reds. “But when we talked, you didn’t seem… lucid. Most of all, not particularly angry. Just… I ‘ve seen dolls of great craftsmanship. No matter the money or skill, they always have a certain unnerving coldness in their eyes. Before today, I had never seen that in any living thing.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, trying to parse what the issue was.

“Of course. Between the enemy of my life being present and the grief of my daughter, what situation would make me angrier?”

Her brown eyebrows scrunched together, and I could see her mind struggling with such an obvious statement.

“Why would-“

The doors whooshed open and promptly exposed us to chaos. Maids and messenger boys ran in a frenzy of shoes clacking on the steps across from us and the wooden floor directly from the elevator door. A view over the city could be enjoyed on the left, but no one had the time or energy to appreciate it. Least of all, me. Between being mages and coming through the elevator, whatever room in the mass could be made for us was swiftly delivered as we moved to the right. The lion guards by the double steel doors at the end of the hallway seemed nervous and with so much traffic, the entrance to the beating heart of government here was kept open. Inside it, I could already see the stone table in the middle with gold edges swamped with papers and harried-looking officials.

Our station allowed us swift travel forward into the deepest depth of the mess. Coming into the room allowed me a full view of the gold-plated steel holding in the glass wall panels. The white marble floor had a small chorus of clacks playing across it as scurried about in nearly every direction. At the center of the maelstrom near the back of the table was Palta. The stone-faced woman wore a simple black dress with a pearl necklace showing between the strands of her long midnight strands. Combined with subtle bits of makeup around her thin nose and sharp jaw, it was clear the woman had been in the middle of some sociable function when the pirates arrived. A small, insignificant, and totally understandable thing, but it exemplified the lax nature still riveted into this sinkhole of a city. Something that aggravated the churning worry in my gut.

“What in the name of fucking god happened?” I said to the mass of people with a tone approaching civil. As much as possible, at least. My words weren’t that much louder than any of the others, but I was a scion, and all the others knew not to speak over me. Scratches of quills on paper, small chatter, and the smacking of shoes immediately died as a clear path cut through the crowd between me and the princess, none daring to get between us. Including the mages on the right, among which I saw Percy and the stone woman in leather armor from before all standing by the window overlooking the slum.

“Let’s adjourn to the back of the room while everyone else,” Her green eyes swept the room with a hard gaze “Gets back to work.”

That got the chorus of steps and scratching going as I moved around the table towards the back window which happened to be facing the growing mass of my abode. Palta joined me, getting up from the table with an ill-concealed bit of dread. The water scion quickly came up to my right until we were both staring out over the stone fields and the barest suggestion of greenery beyond, only interrupted by my walls and the covered road. She was wise enough to get to the point of the conversation.

“The pirates must have gotten a new Sea King.” Was all she said at first. I merely turned to look at her with raised eyebrows that I hoped conveyed how little this told me.

“He’s who directs raids and moves the vast copper fleets, but he is not the true seat of power behind the burning Mists. It is the Brood Mother, caretaker for the King Beasts eggs and children along with a small army of lesser custodians, who has all the actual control. So important is her task that she dictates the work of pillage and plunder to her husband, the Sea King. But he only serves at her pleasure, and I suppose the previous one survived the campaign in the Coalition but couldn’t pull through the political fallout back home.

A blunt man with equally blunt tactics, the one we had fought for many years would always gather for a single push to assault a city or major point. Which is what we prepared for. A smaller attack to test our defenses was not something we considered when we sent out our fleet to harass the gathering point.”

I stood there for a moment, trying to not look toward the slums in the window to my right. It worked, but I could feel that effort further loosen my restraint on the fire creeping further into my veins.

“And this fact is only now apparent because?” I demanded.

Palta nodded in agreement with my frustration.

“The new Sea King apparently agrees with less careful tactics on the seas where they have a greater advantage. Major land battles, however, are a very rare thing for their kind. Honestly, we could have gone years before knowing such a change in command had happened, much less what his tactics are. That some survivors have already volunteered this information is very fortunate for our defense.”

“Not fortunate enough to keep them from strolling into the city, sadly,” I stated with some cold anger.

The water scion shook her head with a patient look.

“We put up a good fight. Your sea fort took out one of the ships and the men managed to hold them back for a good hour or two before they finally forced their way into the main part of the city. Which you quickly remedied.”

“I don’t suppose the guards playing big bad cats put up a great fight. Didn’t notice any of them at the docks or in the streets.”

Palta stuck out her chin a bit at that.

“They did their jobs. Which is to secure the mage district and me, the current governor. While they may not have the abilities of their parents, the service they provide is of the utmost importance in retaining our agreement with the magical groups that we desperately depend on.”

Their parents. For the first time since arriving back in Crasden, an emotion besides worry and anger came to me. I moved my head forward as a ball of disgust worked its way up my throat, maintaining my gaze into her green eyes all the while.

“The mages are using their unfortunate children to defend… themselves?”

She stiffened her back a bit at my unspoken accusation of cowardice.

“It gives those who were unfortunately born without the gift of mana a bit of pride and saves some face for those who brought them into the world. The work also helps them continue the work of advancing humanity’s magical abilities. If only in an indirect way.”

“Oh, yeah.” I hissed between my teeth. “They’re all doing it for the sake of some thousand-yearlong plan. The jobs not some sad attempt to make up the failure of their birth to their parents and get a scrap of the love they were never worthy of in their mother’s or father’s eyes.”

I had intentionally gone with the most malicious interpretation, in some hope that she would refute my suspicions. She couldn’t even give me a few pitiful words to contradict it. Instead, the water scion stood still with a doll-like face.

“Well, at least the kids get some tax dollars from good old mom and dad.”

Palta pursed her lips for a second before speaking again, her black dress shifting with her discomfort.

“Their district is communally managed by the associations and paid back directly to them, though we get some fees for helping with non-associated mages. Otherwise, the mana-gifted don’t pay taxes.”

“Dear god.” The words flew out of my mouth as I stood there, in awe of the naked audacity of what I was hearing. “Why are the pirates looting this region? They only need to get a hold on the association agreements and start jotting down passages.”

The princess got a resigned look at that. I could see it in her eyes, the exhaustion of a situation long unresolved. Her chest puffed out as she took a deep breath, which was slowly released.

‘Tilvor. We have no choice.’ She said in a spirit connection. ‘They’re the only ones who can make these settlements and maintain them. If not for their aid, we would have less than half our current living space and no means of setting up our own crops in the mana dead zones left by the dwarves.’

‘Then develop your own magical talent. Those parasites-‘ a small nod towards the back right emphasized my point ‘Will suck out the last drop of your blood then complain about how difficult your clothes made it.’

Those green eyes looking me up and down were filled to bursting with anger. Her shoulders straightened and those finely manicured hands clenched for a moment. When this was accompanied by a quick look back towards the mages, I knew that I was trying to convert someone already of the faith. With the path open, the most promising approach was to argue the doctrines of our mutual beliefs.

‘This can’t go on, Palta. We need more walls, fortifications, and weapons. I could fashion them if we used some loophole or legal trickery.’

The look of anger Palta wore was replaced by tired concentration. Those pink lips pursed and the temptation of what I offered was starting to worm into her heart. For a single moment, I had some hope for this sinkhole. But that promise quickly faded as she shook her head.

‘The associations don’t just work here, Tilvor. If they get the notion that we’ll undermine contracts under any circumstance they’ll raise rates and stop reliably delivering enchanted crafts. Everywhere. I’m sorry but having them repair ‘breeches’ in the wall is as far as I can push things.’

Turning back towards the window, my gaze went out towards the focal points of all my labor these past few weeks. Thinking back to all those hours spent just getting the walls in, I wouldn’t say they were wasted, but the original goal I dedicated them to was now in question. Looking back to the true rulers of this city, I saw idleness and self-indulgence. Percy was near the middle, thumbing the emerald of his golden ring as his green robes with gold lines flapped about. The tanned plant caster was talking with a woman in equally gaudy red robes.

This was a gathering of the most powerful people in the city, conducted just after a direct assault that left bodies in the streets, and it had all the alacrity and intensity of a poolside chat. Concentrating on their conversations was easier now that most of the noise had died down with Palta having left the table and I took the opportunity to listen in.

“Yes, my newest villa will be finished. Or at least it should be when I get back from this appalling affair.”

“Honestly, the steak this morning was a bit too salty. If they’ve only got glorified jerky left to serve, I’m going to demand a refund.”

“Dreadful business all around. The butler assured me they’ll still have my cheesy bread at the end for dinner but still…”

What am I doing? Did I think people who abandoned their children because they couldn’t suck in mana at birth would have anything worthwhile to say?

No.

This city is doomed.

The body could still be saved, but the proverbial head will actively fight my attempts to pull it out of the fire. There had been the hope that the increasing presence of pirates or even a direct attack such as this would introduce some flexibility into the rules. All resting on the assumption that the people truly running this place gave a damn.

Staring out at my work and wondering what it was all for, I squeezed my hands together. Suppressing my emotions, I started going over how to remedy this mess. Killing all the mages would be the most immediate, and gratifying, solution. Their deaths would also destroy any chance I have of making sure the city stays stable in the years to come.

But if I couldn’t build in the city then how was I going to keep this rotting corpse... Ah.

“Palta,” I audibly asked. “Would I be wrong to assume the pirates have enough spies here to tell them who killed all their men?”

That got a miserable laugh from her.

“They probably saw the slaughter from the Watch, the spies be damned. If you’re asking whether they’ll try to kill you now, I’d say definitely. Providing us with food was one thing, taking out a small army is another. Something only a fellow scion could do.

I know you probably have little experience fighting other humans, but scions getting involved in fights means they become the top priority. There were some whispers that you were pretending at such power considering you have no familiar, though I doubt they’ll be uttered again after today.”

“Good. They would eventually want to kill me anyway. Now we can all just get to the point.”

Palta got a small smile at that as she fully turned to me.

“Do you have some plan, great plant mage?”

“Depending on what options I have to implement it. This city is a corpse determined to decay and I can’t dissuade it from doing so. But I can shield it with a sturdy coffin.

You can’t let me work in the city. However, you can lend me the troops to defend my keep and workers who could help me build a weapon capable of striking far enough away from the harbor that the pirates would have no choice but to deal with me beforehand. That would do nearly as good of a job as me adding to the defenses of this city directly.”

The water scion’s shoulders came up as her body tensed like she was preparing for a blow.

“Harrah. Her moth familiar isn’t physically strong enough to carry a craft that could do any real damage, but she has helped build some special protections for our bases in the Bloody plains including some trebuchets. Do you think we could make one that could get the job done?”

Looking back towards my mini city, I gave her a disappointed sigh for an answer. Restricted to my plant element and only the crudest physics, the most generous estimate I could give would put a regular boulder payload landing just short of the city. A payload comprised of a craft that would summon a small storm of head-sized rocks could see it arrive on the other side of the capital. Utilizing Harrah’s familiar would easily get me the distance I needed if the princess didn’t mind permanently blinding herself to what was going on outside of the city and not having that support in the future didn’t create problems.

No. The best solution would be to make a specialized tower near… eight floors high. I’d have to support the stone with a skeleton of magically enhanced wood and accommodate whatever the siege expert needed. And devote all my time to it. That would be fine if my abode was prepared for a major attack.

“How many people could you lend me if I equipped them with stone crafts to finish out my fort?”

“The entire thing? With multiple cities? Could you even take in that many people?” Her raised eyebrows made it clear how unreasonable a project that was to her.

“The building I’ve set up can hold a small garrison already. I’ll provide a detailed plan showing where I want future expansions, for now, I want them finishing out the harbor gate and putting in some catapults along the walls. Maybe some smaller ballistae if time favors us. I just need enough manpower to build and man it all.”

Palta bit her lip, looking out at my fort. Her green eyes had some hope even as her closed arms told of skepticism.

“Troops are not a cheap commodity. Not during these times.”

“I could tell by how they were all left to die in the streets while the properly armed guards protected the quarter that wasn’t going to be attacked.”

Palta stood still, her face a mix of offended and shame.

“At the end of the day, you can have a squad of guards take out five or fewer pirates or you can give them to me where they’ll obliterate entire ships and raiding bands.”

My math was unimpeachable and the slight nod with her sharp chin renewed my hope. She bit her pink lips again, looking back to my walls and the even taller inner city. Her manicured hands moved to pinch the bridge of her nose in a hard manner unbecoming her fine dress and makeup.

“I am the crowned princess of the Rodring kingdom. My duty is to safeguard this nation and its people to my dying day. Turning over the troops you need would be akin to giving away the city. I cannot, as a member of the royal family, hand over the welfare and safety of the provincial capital.”

Her eyes had a hard glint in them as she pulled down her hand. She seemed to be of good sense even with the odd points of prickliness that came with being a part of an esteemed family. Still, I had to lay the facts of the situation out to her, showing some consideration by using our spirit connection all the while.

‘The royal family handed this city over when the ink dried on the association’s agreements. Providing for the common welfare slipped between your hands the minute building in the city became the domain of those vultures. The people’s lifeblood streams through the streets as we speak, in no small part because the good weapons and armor have been taken up by a unit that will never fight.’

Palta stared at me with a bit of coldness, her green eyes hard as steel though no rage came through on her face. What was more important was the silence that followed. Since she didn’t immediately launch into a rant about her esteemed honor, it was a good bet that she knew the truth of my words. As a member of royalty and all the struggles that came with it, she had a good handle on keeping her face placid and this clash between birth and reality could only be seen in those green pools. Not wasting the opportunity, I pressed her with a compromise.

‘I’m not asking to have them don my colors and empty your barracks. They can still go back home when the murderous pirates sail from these lands.’

She remained unmoving aside from idly tapping the side of her black dress while her right hand rubbed the pearl necklace. It took a moment of pondering what I felt was an obvious conclusion before Palta finally put her head down in resignation.

‘Harrah will be commanding the men. If the pirates make it through your barrage, I’ll trust her judgment on whether to bring them back. But all of them will be solely under the authority granted to me.’

I smiled back at her, shaking my head in agreement.

‘Whatever kills the most pirates. I’ll need a day or two to work things out before starting the adjustments.’

Palta nodded before turning back towards the table.

‘Good. We’ll have to make sure you get your meals sourced from my special kitchen. It’s staffed with people thoroughly vetted by the crown and is secure enough to make sure no poisons are slipped into the servings.’ She responded with a turn to the table. Instead of moving forward, she looked back at me a raised a finger in warning. ‘If you ever meet my father or mother, do try to be more courteous. They probably wouldn’t be so…understanding about the need for directness in these matters. Just give me a few minutes to give you some escorts.’

Our conversation finished, we returned to our various stations. The water scion came up to her seat and was quickly swamped by attendants and messengers like a mother dog being mugged by pups. After a few minutes, a few of the regular, leather-armed guards came up to babysit me.

I was quick to take my leave, vacating the tower and making my way down to the docks. Traveling on the main road I saw the bodies had been covered with wraps or moved, save one or two chopped human bits.

“Mom? Mom, get up!”

“Why?!”

“UAGHH!”

More than one cloth-wrapped body was being sobbed over by either a man, a woman, children, or some combination thereof. Around them were an odd assortment of men, women, and children ambling around. Most had stunned faces, their eyes not comprehending what had just happened. The city was coming out of the initial chaos and a growing dirge was taking over the streets. That I may yet join them before the day was out made my stomach churn. From the looks of some of the guards, some of the grieving were friends or at least known to them.

It was a somber walk through the dock area, weaving through packs of guards and scared shopkeepers looking for whatever scraps of their lives were left unmolested. As I came down to where the intersection where the harbormaster's office met the open-sided shops, the grey-haired Jeff blocked my path with an indifferent air. His chin was slightly raised and he did his best to affect disdain, but his brown eyes were still dilated and the grey shirt and brown pants he wore had a few cuts in them. Not blood-soaked as mine were, but still battered.

“Plant scion.” He said with a low voice. “You have my thanks for coming to my…timely rescue.”

“Between your air element and the harbormasters… water blades, I’d say you weren’t in any real danger.”

His face cracked with some poorly disguised agreement. The guards were equally mystified as to what a water caster was doing amidst the dock works, looking towards the harbor office with some furtive glances. Jeff took the opportunity to come forward with an outstretched hand. The guards had to do a quick look over, only allowing the gesture to commence when he had been cleared. I took the outstretched hand and was unsurprised at the spirit connection that came out of his palm.

‘Gula’s safe. We’ll be handing off the radio later.’

The knot of anguish in my gut came undone. In the midst of the surrounding misery, some faint corner of my mind felt a bit guilty at being so joyous. But damn propriety, my beloved Orc wife was well.

“Thank you, wind mage. It has been a long day and there is still too much to do, so I sadly can’t stay.”

He nodded, making sure to pull away with the disinterest one would have with a dead rat in their way. I briefly considered getting in my boat, but the harbor was filled with the scattered remains of copper-lined hulls that would certainly see my vessel join them. Bracing myself for the long walk, I turned right.

Moving along the docks towards the new road, the shops had been loosely ransacked with the stone floor being littered with clothes, food, and household items of varying descriptions. Long shards of glass were scattered about, courtesy of a few rocks or hammers missing their target during the fighting. As hard as the crying and cursing shopkeepers had it, the guards had managed to keep the pirates back here since the enemy mostly pushed for a straight line to the slum.

Streets that were typically crowded with passersby at this time were taken up with guards trying to restore order, retrieve bodies, or apply bandages to a survivor. Even the usually cramped warehouse section allowed free passage. Entry onto the rocky plains was also free of obstruction, allowing us swift passage onto the main vein of travel between Crasden and my home. As my group and I moved down the walled-off road, I could see a few guards patrolling the top. Still dutifully seeing to their tasks, the only indications that anything had happened were their reduced numbers and the constantly drawn bows ready to be raised and pulled at a moment’s notice.

Whatever had happened in the city, winter cared for none of it. Hefty winds of ice blew over me as they traveled mostly unobstructed by the huge walls of the city. And now that the cold indifference of blind fury had passed, I became acutely focused on how cold everything felt. Using a magical spell to pull out the residual water and sweat was trivial, though a few spots of blood still stubbornly clung to me.

As I approached the slightly lower walls leading into the inner space of my home, I decided to focus on what had been the least important project. This path meant that the pirates were going to see me as the active threat I was and I couldn’t be jaunting around the city for my business and required a place to make the tools that others would need to make up the difference. Seeing as how the only other properly walled-off section was going to have to pull double duty as growing and housing, I committed to the original idea for my home.

When I came to the middle of the vast, empty plain of stone where the wooden bridge allowed for safe passage over the small river cutting through, I decided to put my slice of heaven near the back grate. The massive mesh of magically enhanced wood was tougher than steel, as was its sister at the exit. Keeping out monsters or big pieces of debris, it also sported an exit door underwater to allow anyone trapped against it to get to a stone platform. A door that also happened to allow access back into the stream with a small walkway that didn’t show up from the surface. A nifty thing for Gula, but also a concern for safety.

Considering that and making sure I had enough room for a few hidden spaces, the dimensions involved would have to be generous. The guards spread out with their wooden shields as I moved a good stone toss away from the entrance of the stream into my abode. If the goal was to maximize value, crafts would be deployed to do this, but the tradeoff was time. Time that pirate spies could use to kill me in a variety of ways I might be too distracted to catch. Though, considering how I came to this world, it appears that the final goodbye isn’t as final as I had previously thought. Still, dying again would stress my wives out.

“Send two men to gather some wood. Strong, flat type used for construction. As much as you can.” I declared to the group. A series of nods went through the group before two of them ran off toward the city.

My spells put in a long rectangle of stone fused to the bottom of the artificial river. The dimensions were a hundred feet across and fifty wide. The shallow river was still moving but considering I made the entire thing I didn’t need to stop the stream to know where to put my foundation. Sunlight was slipping away as I extended the base towards the opposite side of the river in the shape of a wide rectangle on which I could station a drawbridge. Like any work, spells became harder to manipulate with increasing distance between the craftsman and his bobble.

With the growing pile of wood planks, it was a few minutes of molding until I had a solid slab capable of being walked over with heavy packages. A mostly empty cart wouldn’t be a problem, but one loaded down could fall through. I considered making it sturdier, but it was almost as hard as metal with my growing spells and while it was lighter, I didn’t want to commit to an elaborate pulley system and all the needed supports for a heavier drawbridge right now. Putting holes for rope in it was easy, as was laying it between the stone shore and my mini-island. It covered a gap about a stone’s toss away from the regular floor and would thwart any attempt to cross not involving serious equipment or magic.

Walking across the wooden plank produced no squeaks or bends of protest. Standing on the foundation of what was likely going to be the focus of my life for years to come, I started by molding and summoning yet more stone. Sweat started forming around my brow as the two stories of solid, thick walls nearly a foot thick formed a seamless extension of the base. That still wasn’t secure enough for my tastes. Lining the inside of the walls with oak wood boards, I put in stone manipulation enchantments that bore manipulation fields.

Instead of moving stone mixed in flame to shoot lava as I had often used them, these would manipulate the stone to stay in place. With the irritation of the associations and the potential bribes of the pirates, I wouldn’t put it past one of the earth mages to visit my abode one night and try to pull my home on my head. The enchantments wouldn’t stop multiple mages, but they would fight the spells long enough to wake me up and since the boards were squished between a stone wall and wood boards, they couldn’t be quietly disabled.

Mana was far more abundant in the Central Continent, but all this spell work took up a lot more mana than the enchantments I used to make the rest. My limbs were also starting to send me that sensation that wasn’t quite pain. Turning out of my home, I came up to the guards with a casual look around until I found the youngest of the bunch.

“I need to test some designs for a magical tool to mold and summon stone. Would you like to help me?”

In the fading afternoon light, his brown eyes widened, and I noticed some sweat fall onto his red leather armor. His worries proved unfounded, as visions of monstrous experiments and chopped-off limbs gave way to a simple glove with a wooden board fused to the knuckles. Large enough to hold my enchantments, I put the pressure point to start the stone summoning on top and marked it with a simple round dent near the middle.

In his early twenties, the guard looked like a small child trying out some new toy long desired as he stood in the middle of the guards, all of whom were trying very hard to keep looking outward and not at the man. When his finger pressed the dent, blue flickers were sucked into the glove and in front of the board a wide square of stone suddenly formed. A stone block that quickly fell to the ground and chipped both itself and the floor. The lad was smiling even as he had to do a light jump back to avoid a crushed foot.

“Good,” I announced to the group. “But the niceties of the crafts will have to wait until tomorrow. Will you lot be watching over me for the night?”

“Day and night is what the lady said. Though we cover mornings to afternoon.” One of the more grizzled members in the back intoned.

“All right. Let’s get some accommodations together.”

The men were well armed for combat with men and the cold, sporting swords and fluffy collars. A proper enclosure went a long way for troop morale and made it harder to put a bolt in the pair of eyes overlooking my home. The men, for their part, nodded in appreciation though their general posture wasn’t of rapturous gratitude.

When the ten-by-ten foot walls were up, the guards realized I wasn’t consigning them to a stone lean-to. Forced gratefulness gave way to genuine excitement as I put in a backward-sloping roof and lined the whole thing with more enhanced wood. By the time I finished putting in two chairs and a back door with the holes for a keylock, the enchantments for my house had finished absorbing the mana needed to fill its reserves. Now it was the guard posts' turn, though both still took in far less mana than my spell craft had.

My little corner of the world was now getting a little depleted of those blue specks. Cold air nipped at every nerve on my skin even with the coat blocking the worst of it. Grateful that I already had the crafts from the construction of the rest of the walls, I spent the rest of the day scattering them all over the flat stone expanse that had been my world for weeks. Sunlight had long since faded before I was even halfway done retrieving the crafts and laying them out in long rows. In front of my house was a nine by twelve layout of square boards, each a stone toss from the other, and all began the work of summoning a block of stone. Throughout this process, movers were languishing in the background bringing over a bed and some chairs complete with a blanket and pillows.

In the middle of placing a post to hold torches at the top of my new door, I saw a small group carrying a large pot with a lid between them. What drew my attention was the smaller woman, Harrah, in front carrying a torch that pushed back the darkness. The orange flames played across her green and brown leather armor and gave a light sheen to the steel pads and upper chest guard.

“Greetings, plant mage.” She said respectfully, even nodding slightly as her head dipped and sent her two black ponytails swinging. Even as late as the black sky made it seem, her blue eyes were looking over the forming blocks of stone until she came across the bridge further down the stream and turned to my little abode.

“Hey, Tilvor. Nice to see you’re actually a scion.” She said with a small smile playing across her face. Her stubby chin wrinkled with a bit lip over the bare walls. “Do you sleep with the sky above? Seems like that’d get a bit chilly.”

Moving between our two sets of guards, I came up to her and nodded to the air scion.

“Did you think I was lying? Even after all I had accomplished.”

Those water-blue circles shifted guiltily to the right towards the empty blackness.

“It’s hard to think of someone as a scion without a familiar. Typically, it’s a die-together kind of deal. Honestly, I think I prefer that arrangement.”

I stood still with a strained smile, trying my best to imitate suppressing a painful memory. It took only a moment for Harrah to realize the many, many, layers of rudeness in her words.

“I’m so sorry. I-“

My raised hand silenced her.

“This isn’t helping us kill the pirates. Though, I won’t deny an unexpected dinner service.”

Eager to move on from her lack of social grace, she nodded to the men to set the pot down.

“Specially made from the royal kitchen. It uses a fire enchantment on the bottom to keep it heated. From now on you are to eat like royalty.” She said with a grand sweep of her arms. I motioned to the men at the guard house. When the big pot was set down in the torchlight around some chairs, I sat in the one right by the drawbridge. Not as comfortable as I could have made it, but flat stone was what I would have gotten otherwise

A worker with a white apron and mesh of cloth over his hair produced some bowls and spoons from a sack. Ladling out some of the stew into clay bowls produced a small cloud of steam, the fruits of which he sampled with a spoon before presenting to me. The contents were a brown stew laced with strings of chicken, shredded until they resembled cotton strands. Placing the spoon up to my mouth produced a citrusy smell that went straight up my nose.

“Hearty.” I declared. “And good. Though this isn’t the fat steaks and pies I’d thought most royalty enjoyed.”

Harrah smiled as she sat across from me, leaning a bit closer to the pot that gave off almost as much heat as a fire.

“Out here? Away from the Literreans’ hold? No, too easy to slip a bit of poison in. Only foods that can be mixed without anything big enough inside to hold a surprise. Each sampled by an official taster. I hope you like stews and soups.”

With that, the early twenties woman got up with an exaggerated stretch. While she seemed to talk to me, her face turned towards the harbor wall.

“I can’t say it’s been easy today. I helped push a ship into the shore, but I don’t think it was harder than what you did and are doing. Once you’ve finished, meet up with me to see what we can make here.”

With that, she took a torch from one of the guards. Eager to get to the point of our meeting, the stew passed between my lips almost as fast as the water. Nodding to the chef with a grateful smile, I took my own torch to approach the flickering showing the woman further ahead. Our escorts went to the harbor gate and fanned out a bit to give us space. The darkness and lack of any landscape features besides seemingly endless stone floors and walls that were only distinguished by the silhouettes among the stars all lent an eerie air to my travel. It also made it hard to judge distances.

The air scion was jumping with her green mana constructs helping her as she zipped around taking in the walls and dimensions of the stone construction. Dancing through the air like a firefly alive far out of season, it took me a bit longer than anticipated to get close enough to grab her attention.

“What do you think?” I yelled with a bellow of icy clouds flowing around the flames of my torch. The winding light stopped, some hair showing against the flames before it came closer. A strong wind blew over my coat when she landed in front of me, driving away any residual heat on my face, neck and hands.

“Good. How much weight could this support?” She asked with a small kick into the ground.

“It’s several dozen feet of solid stone and we can work in wooden supports to lessen the weight of the tower. Load bearing isn’t going to be an issue.”

Harrah nodded at that, turning back towards the wall. She began walking forward with a heavy face. Accompanying her, we moved in silence for a moment as our torches flickered in the faint breeze. The wind scion was on my right, but she still looked at the walls and smooth grey stone floor.

“Have you decided what you’re going to call this place?” She asked.

The question threw me for a second before I answered.

“Everyone just calls it my home. I’d love to call it ‘The place where all the pirates were killed’, but that name will probably needs to justify itself first.”

Her head snapped to me for a moment and her face had the same pouty lip I had seen when I began making the road to Crasden.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

Her blue eyes had a hesitant look before they finally rolled and a huff escaped her mouth.

“Do you know what my magic will leave behind?” She asked as we came up to the river and turned left.

“A lot of widespread devastation. Your magic can also kill people directly with wind blades. There are also any enchantments you make.”

Harrah stopped at that with the flowing rush of water behind her. Her blue eyes had a guarded look, and her bit lips had the flicker of both torches on them.

“Earth mages are the only group who will leave anything behind. Fire, water, wind. There’s nothing left of our craft when we depart, but earth mages can build whole cities. Either with stone or metal and wood if they have other elements. The rest of us? We can leave behind destruction, but ruins crumble to dust and bodies decay.”

I raised an eyebrow at that.

“Are children not a legacy? Does healing people who would have died otherwise not count as having a lasting impact on the world?”

Harrah got a rueful smile at that, looking to her left at the wall before turning back to me.

“Children look to their greatest ancestor. Eventually, someone greater than you comes out of your great, great, great, granddaughters and suddenly nothing you did matters. Healing… people forget good deeds eventually. I don’t know, it just irks me that my magic dies with me. The Builder made the City and Rodring made the Literrean hold. Real, physical things that people to this very day depend on.”

Ah, an architect’s spirit. Feeling like I had reached the point of aggravation for her, I extended a gesture of goodwill.

“How about this. Once we get this tower finished, we’ll name it after you. ‘Harrah’s Shield’ or something.”

A genuine smile came over her face. The wind scion awkwardly moved forward in a hugging motion, though her intentions were derailed by the need to not burn me with her torch. Standing a bit straighter, she looked around with a bit of eagerness.

“Well, we better make this the best tower in the whole of the north then.”

With that, we started going over the various dimensions involved. At one point Harrah had to take out a paper and quill to do some calculations. The end of which resulted in nine floors. My throat itched with the urge to point out several weaknesses in her design, sadly someone of my non-education wouldn’t have the acute mathematical knowledge to point them out. Flaws we had to shore up with more enhanced wood than was needed.

It was a lot more work, but the wind scion told me Palta was going to lend us Bella as well. Having both stone magic and usefulness, she would save several days just by summoning stone from mana outside the walls. After a few minutes of wrangling over trebuchet dimensions and the living quarters needed to keep the place manned at all times, our sketches of rough figures and lines molded into a core plan. Freezing air tried to stop us, but the torches provided just enough warmth to keep us going until the paper was wrapped into Harrah’s inner pocket.

Coming up the side of the artificial river, we came back to my new residence. A fresh set of guards were coming across the bridge, all decked out with thick furs and gloves to combat the cold. Our caretakers quickly left us with a bow before handing off their shift to the night crew.

“What time will you want to start in the morning?” Harrah asked with a small smile.

“As soon as I finish washing and eating.”

The wind scion turned to leave before a look of having remembered something stole over her face.

“Oh, and don’t tell Bella I said anything about earth magic.”

I nodded in agreement with a tired smile befitting this late hour.

Our time together had finally reached its end. She took off over the bridge with the off-duty guards while I headed up to my new house. My new minders were impressed with the guard house in front of my drawbridge, but I could only give them a nod as I came into my abode. Tiredness pressed into every crevice of my body, which I had to push away from my mind as I prepared the final part of my newest construction.

It was open air with a bed on the far left of the massive room. The ground had a long green rug of hemp on the floor and the right had a table and chair. Not impressive, but it was all that was required. In the future I would need to work on the hidden lower floors, tonight, however, my only task was finishing the roof. Slices of a half oval were summoned on the front end of the home and gradually worked onto the back. While getting it one bit at a time and molding it together was a bit more involved than summoning the entire thing in one big piece, it was considerably safer. The perfectly smooth roof also made it impossible to hook onto anything from the other side. Sporting sheer walls on all sides, I was confident in the security of the house. It would need some wood reinforcement, but it was too late and my mana pathways too aching to finish that.

Moving to the bed, I found the workers had given me three whole blankets to keep me warm. The icy sheets quickly warmed from my body heat, and I used a small fire spell to speed up the process. Despite the small ache in my body, the sudden warmth straight out of summer was worth it. A hundred times over was the spell worth it. Faint torchlight played across the ceiling from the edges of my door, seemingly accentuating my fire spell.

My back and joints practically shook in ecstasy as the comforts of basic civilization finally came to me. After the whirlwind of a day and the knowledge that my wives were safe, blessed sleep finally started coming for me. I offered no fight or resistance, throwing myself into its waiting arms with abandon as the world faded to black.