by Aaron Crash
Ymir and his women made frequent trips to the StormLight Island to visit Ribby. While they missed the mermaid, they knew she was learning on her own, living in the StormLight lighthouse. He’d sent her a message, warning her that a certain fairy might be visiting her. It was the least he could do.
Della continued to avoid him, which made Ymir wonder about the strength of their Princept. She’d always been such a force at the school, like an unmovable object, or the prime mover, or the uncaused cause. Ymir was studying different theologies in his Religions of Thera class, and he was finding the ideas fascinating.
If all things had a cause, then the gods themselves had a cause, unless one of the gods was an uncaused cause. Was that the initial idea that started the universe?
Some called the uncaused cause the Seedmaster. Others used a more interesting term—
the Gamemaster. Like a tree grew from a single seed, so did the games of the world come from a single game that the Gamemaster had started.
Every year, Ymir found himself in a class where he thought he might be wasting his time. He’d spent time in poetry classes, and a class where he learned outdated customs and dances and lost etiquette. He thought his religion class with Linnylynn would be the same, but he found himself moved by the stories and ideas.
Most of the Therans worshipped the Tree of Life, which also played into different stories of the Ax Tundra. One of the most famous was that the Axman himself took his divine ax to the tree at the beginning of the world. Humans already walked the lands. When the Axman hit the tree, the other non-human races came raining down. Hence, they were known as the Fallen Fruit people.
The elves would disagree. Like orcs or dwarves, some of the elves still believed in the seven old gods: the Sky Father, the Mother Sea, the Warrior, the Artist, the Merchant, the Forger, and the Reveler.
Some elves believed it was the Artist who sprang from the very air itself when the first sound echoed across the emptiness. The Artist then sang the other gods and the world to life.
What caused that first sound, however?
While his religion class proved to be surprisingly enjoyable, his history class frustrated him. They were moving too slow. Professor Albatross recommended he try a book on Aegel’s father, the Vempor Aegustus, a pathetic, weak man who many claimed was the reason why Aegel was so cruel and powerful. He’d watched Aegustus lose townships and whole kingdoms as the Akkridorian Empire shrank. It was up to Aegel Akkridor to reconquer whole regions, which he did even before he forged the Akkiric Rings.
Ymir spent long nights on the second floor of the Librarium, at his table, reading from the Aegustiod Mensis Historia by Carlyle Ambrose Zinn. This was outside his normal classwork, but Professor Albatross thought it might provide him some intellectual excitement. Or perhaps it was her revenge for him spurning her advances.
The Aegustiod just might be the best way to punish him. The history of Aegustus was dull and plodding, as much about the finances of the crumbling empire as it was about the man and his many foibles. Aegel had been firstborn, and he’d had a sister, Honoria, who’d died when Aegel was just rising in the esteem of the soldiers who served his father. During her short life, Honoria helped her brother. While the courtiers didn’t like Aegel, they adored Aegel’s sister, who was younger by two years. Honoria played the games in the court, while Aegel dominated the battlefield. Aegustus pleaded with his son not to go to war, but Aegel knew enough to know that no one feared his father, and so they had better learn to fear his son.
There were other children by Aegustus and his wife, Yulia, but they were as weak and stupid as their father. It was only Aegel and Honoria who shone. Gossip soon spread that brother and sister had an unnatural relationship.
The rumors of incest might’ve been true. Aegel did not seek out his first wife until after Honoria died of a fever. It was thought she was poisoned by one of her sisters, but there was no evidence.
The Aegustiod’s author did like to reference other texts, mostly to tell the reader that they were lies and not worth the time. Only Zinn had a clear picture of history. However, it simply made Ymir want to abandon Zinn and read those other books. He started a list of the texts, which he cross-referenced with the Keez Forta Index, a listing of spells, spell books, scrolls, magic items, and artifacts.
Not all of his classwork was book learning. There were some more practical classes he was taking. Professor Issa Leel taught Advanced Flow Combat Techniques. Ymir didn’t get much out of the course, but Lillee was working on a bow made from Flow magic. She would be firing ice arrows from a string made of water. She wasn’t the only one working on her combat skills. Tori wanted to improve her martial abilities and was practicing making stone armor. She would be wielding a big rock hammer.
As for Jennybelle, her real skill would always be off the battlefield. However, she was looking into some old swamp magic involving bloodcross mushrooms.
As for his fourth class, Professor Lola did a good job teaching Moon & Flow Magic Combined. Learning more Moons magic was always welcome. The Moons Studiae Magica offered speed, flight, and lightning attacks. Ymir had already learned to control his flight somewhat, but he still had a lot to learn.
Two years ago, Ymir would’ve laughed at the idea that Issa Leel knew a thing about combat, given her prissy nature. However, that had changed after he’d seen her freeze an earthquake wave. She’d saved the Librarium Citadel from powerful merfolk sorcery, and he couldn’t help but respect her.
As for Professor Lyla, she kept her giggles and silliness in check for the most part. If he had to survive a full lecture of normal fairy nonsense it might destroy his sanity. But the question remained, was that giggling and rhyming authentic? Was that really how fairies talked and acted?
Ymir turned the page in the Aegustiod. He didn’t continue reading, but instead took a break to rub his eyes, stand, and stretch.
He was up on his toes, reaching for the third floor, when he noticed a figure in the shadows. At first he thought it was Sarina Sia. No, this woman was shorter and wearing clothes. It was Della Pennez. How long had she been there watching him?
Ymir grinned and took off his robes. He wore a deer-skin shirt, which he’d made from hide he’d found in the markets of StormCry. Della’s eyes went to his arms.
He sat and motioned to a chair.
“Where are your ptari?” Della asked, using the Gruul word for wives.
“I know where they are.” Ymir stayed back. “As their ptoorig, I should know.” He laughed a little. “And to think, before Aegel Akkridor, you southerners embraced monogamy.”
“Are the clans so different?” Della asked. “A man has his wife just as the Axman has his Shieldmaiden. You were shocked at our depraved southern ways when you first arrived.”
Ymir again motioned to the chair. “Sit. I’ve been reading Zinn’s history of Aegel’s father, which is nothing but counting shecks, financial papers, and more of a biography of the son than the father. I didn’t know about Honoria, the sister, who might be more than a sister.”
Della half laughed. “It’s all hearsay, though I would imagine your Gatha has any number of cheap novels filled with such taboos. Gatha is drinking on the Sea Stair, at the Unicorn’s Uht with Lillee, who has been out more than ever. It has hurt both their work. You do know something is wrong there?”
“With their schoolwork? Or with their guzzling the weak wine at the Uht? I don’t worry about Gatha if she’s not drinking that foul orc liquor.” He paused. “But yes, the death of Gatha’s parents has affected her. Lillee is also troubled by the death of her father. It seems even Jenny has found these past months difficult without her villainous aunt in the world. I have faith my women will move through sorrow in time. Tori is helpful.”
“She is.” Della remained standing. “And to think, Jenny and Tori are both in the kitchen baking Josentown rice cookies. They have a group in there, and not just Josens, but Cujans as well. Nelly and Daris, playing nice. If both of them wind up dead, I�
�ll know it was Jenny’s cookies. I would imagine they’ll bring you some tonight, either here or back at the Zoo.”
“Are we simply going to be talking about cookies, Princept?” Ymir asked. “With me sitting and you standing over there as if you’re afraid of me?”
“I am not afraid of you.” Della finally sat. “I am a bit disconcerted about any number of things, however. For one, I don’t trust Nellybelle Tucker. There’s talk that Arribelle Josen will be coming here to visit her fiancé and discuss this demon conqueror on the southern continent. I would hate to have another murder on our hands. I have no doubt with Arribelle gone, Nellybelle would make her play, not just for Josentown, but for all the Swamp Coast queendoms.”
Ymir couldn’t disagree. “Perhaps King Shapta has the same idea. It could be Nellybelle might find a husband in Reytah with her same thirst for power.”
Della continued. “Arribelle wouldn’t be the only diplomat to come. There have been a flurry of sand letters wondering if we should have an assemblage to discuss this King Shapta. The Grand Vempor Arcadius from the Holy Theranus Empire has expressed some interest. As has the Sorrow Coast King, Velis Naoar IX, and the leaders of the Farmington Collective. The demon conqueror is one issue, but there are other issues of the day—the orcs vying for power on the Blood Steppes, the silence of the Greenhome elves, and the rumors of dragons on Ethra.”
“I’d like to meet a dragon.” Ymir smirked. “I’ve had my fill of demons. Perhaps we have nothing to fear from this King Shapta. Tubaqua has held so far.”
“Trade has been hurt,” the Princept said carefully. “If your xocalati business hasn’t felt the pinch, it soon will. And there is talk that once Tubaqua falls, Williminaville will be next. We must decide how we respond.”
Ymir decided to skirt the issue of the fairies. “I got a visit from Ziziva today, which wasn’t pleasant in the slightest.”
He could see just mentioning the fairy had Della shifting nervously.
Ymir returned to a safer subject. “Why would these rulers come here?”
“We’re north. We’re safe. We have a citadel, and they think I might have some pull with the orcs. I am Della Virtorg, after all.”
“And I am Ymir Virtorg,” Ymir said with a sigh. He glanced down at the book before looking Della in the eye. “We can talk pleasantries. You can show how much you know about where my ptari are, but there is a weight on you, as heavy as any that my wives carry. You are troubled that I witnessed your play with the fairies. I didn’t see everything. I only saw a little, and then the vision was taken from me. It was not a vision I necessarily wanted.”
That made Della smile. She drew a hand over her short white hair. Her eyes crinkled with amusement. “But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, seeing me in such a compromised position.”
Ymir fixed his gaze on the woman. “You are strong, powerful, beautiful. Of course seeing you naked wouldn’t be unwelcome.”
Della actually blushed. “That will never happen. But I appreciate your honesty.” She furrowed her brow. “I said I was compromised, in every way. I’ve long suspected the fairies have been playing games at my school, not just with your xocalati business, but with my passions. And with the memories of my security team. This hasn’t been the first time there have been lapses in not only my memories, but the memories of others on this campus. I think you know something about that.”
“The fairies are a mystery.” Ymir tapped his book. “Here I have Undergem Guild records two thousand years old, during the time of Aegustus, but I know nothing about the Fayee, who played a part in Theran economics even back then.”
“And they so want us to think they are silly.” Della laid both hands on the table. “I will not be played by Dillyday Everjewel, by my own professors, nor any Fayee scholar, past or present. I want to use the Veil Tear Ring. In my reading, I’ve seen more than one expert say that it strengthens one’s ability to withstand magic that affects memory. And I’ve mastered the Obanathy cantrips. The powers and skills you have, I have as well. Except for the ring.”
“It might very well destroy you,” Ymir said. “The Akkir Akkor made it clear that I could use it, Tori could, and Lillee.”
“Let me guess: Your spit, the dwab’s blood, and other ingredients made the ink the Veil Tear Ring required. And then it was Lillee’s artistic talent that sketched ring.” Della nodded and swallowed hard. “I would need at least your spit and breath to wield the ring. I would like to kiss the three of you and then put on the Veil Tear. I would then combine it with my Flow magic to discern how Gulnash forged the Crystal Null Ring.”
“Three kisses?” Ymir asked with a quizzical smile on his lips. “For this to work, these kisses would not be pecks. There would have to be some passion. And I would give you the Gather Breath Ring just in case. To fill your dusza with us, the three of us. Where did you read about this?”
“I found a fever dream that Octovato documented in a scroll in the Illuminates Spire. It wasn’t his main work, but an appendix. The apocryphal scroll was ancient, very fragile, but in the dream, he called the Akkir Akkor those who kiss history. There was much discussion of kisses as being the devouring of souls. I won’t bore you.”
Ymir again tapped Zinn’s history. “Impossible, Princept. After reading this I am immune to boredom. I would like to look at this scroll.”
“That will not be possible.” It was Della’s turn to give him a look reinforced with iron. “I have gleaned all that can be gleaned. You will have to trust me. As I trust you. As I’ll have to trust the three of you. These kisses are dangerous. For any number of reasons.”
Ymir considered what she was proposing. “I am willing, Lillee will be, but Tori might have some difficulty. She will have to decide. As you know, the Morbuskor folk are prudish most of the time.”
“Unless they are lost in their Inconvenience.” Della got a pained look on her face. “Ymir, I hope you can forget what you saw, me and the fairies. I don’t remember a thing. This isn’t about our lusts—we all have our lusts, and I’m not naïve when it comes to sex. However, being duped by the fairies, for whatever reason, shocks me. I loathe being so ignorant, and this isn’t the first time. I had agents of the Midnight Guild here, under my nose. And I had my university turned into an arena all so an orc could forge a ring—again, right under my nose. All of it disturbs me. I want to be the mistress of my fate and the ruler of this school. For a long while now, I have not felt that I am either. That must change.”
Ymir remembered the Swordwrite quote. “‘To forge tomorrow in the hours of this day is to become the master of life.’ You are doing just that. In this moment. And we cannot win every fight, Della. We cannot always be master of life. There are times when the wind kills, no matter how thick your tent or how quick your wits. It would be something that Grandmother Rabbit would tell me, even as Grandfather Bear would cluck his tongue at her. I believe my grandmother was right. We are a slave to the path the Axman hews. It has been the story of my life.”
It was clear Della was listening, very closely, to his every word.
She stood and went to touch him but withdrew her hand. “I would appreciate if you would tell Tori and Lillee about my plans. Get their permission. I would like to do it this Friday night, at midnight, in my alcove office on the sixth floor. If possible, I would like it just to be us four. No others. Not Gatha. Not Jennybelle.”
Ymir stood and nodded. “Yes.”
Towering over her, it was amusing to think how powerful this woman was. They’d crossed swords before, and it had been a tie. Without the Akkiric Rings, Ymir wouldn’t have bet on his beating her at all. At the same time, he felt the energy between them. Their lust, their power, their destinies, intertwined.
That Friday night, he would get another kiss from her. Though it had a purpose, it was still a kiss. He’d get to smell her. He’d get to taste her. And given how horny Lillee had been of late, he didn’t know what might happen.
He only hoped that whatever passion they shar
ed wouldn’t end in tragedy. What they were trying wasn’t guaranteed to work. And he hated the idea of watching Della get her soul devoured by the hellhound guarding the Veil.
For a brief moment, he realized losing her would be like losing one of his wives. He counted on Della Pennez, to not only rule the school, but to be his advocate.
Ymir stood over her. Della stood under him, slight, slender, but deadly.
“I do not think any less of you, Princept,” Ymir said finally. “More than that, I trust you.”
She walked up to him and patted his hand. It was a friendly gesture. “And I trust you as well. Good thing we have that, or some days, I don’t think we’d have anything we could really trust.”
That made them both laugh. Della retreated. Ymir packed up and walked back to the Zoo.
Jennybelle did have rice cookies for him. They were as delicious as her kisses.
Gatha and Lillee came in, and while Gatha was the more sober of the pair, that wasn’t saying much. Ymir ended up carrying Lillee to bed, with Tori watching and frowning. Her worry was obvious.
Gatha passed out in the kitchen with a cookie, uneaten, in her hand. She must’ve found some ippa-pagg-ippa after all.
Ymir decided he’d wait to talk with Tori about Della’s three-kiss plan. Just the thought of seeing Della kiss Lillee and Tori had his blood raging. Tori wasn’t in her Inconvenience, and his other wives were unconscious, so Ymir ended up with Jennybelle in the kitchen. She gripped the table while he took her from behind.
He was fucking Jenny, but he was thinking of Della. He didn’t think the swamp woman would mind. They’d all been lusting over the Princept.
Ymir knew it was only a matter of time before they all had sex with the Princept. It might be after they graduated, but it would certainly happen at some point. He wouldn’t pressure the Princept. But he also wouldn’t turn from the fateful path that the Axman had hewed for him. If that led him to Della Pennez’s bed, then so be it.