Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV)

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Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 37

by Vider, Rohan M.


  Dare he act now before he was ready, risking everything in the process? To save one small town? If he gambled and lost… the consequences would be ruinous.

  Kyran jerked to his feet, needing to pace and release some of the tension roiling within him. But what if he chose not to act? What if he did not use the Well to protect Eldervale? Could he live with himself after that? Who would he even be then? Surely not the same Kyran.

  He ground to a halt. Drawing in a deep breath, Kyran released it again and acknowledged to himself that he had already made his decision. It was only fear that held him back.

  He could not ignore Eldervale’s plight. He would try to save the town. And he would use every resource at his disposal to do so.

  It was a risk—and a big one—to reveal the Well’s existence this early. Gaesin’s words rang in his mind. Tomorrow can take care of itself. Kyran smiled. The youth was right.

  Even though he was unprepared, it was time to make a stand.

  There were at least two gods hunting him in Crotana: Misteria and Iyra, and if he had learned anything of Xetil, quite likely a third.

  And what did he have in the way of allies? Only four of whom he could be certain: Gaesin, Adra, Aiken, and Mirien. Zarr, he thought he could depend on as well. Wynak’s tribe? Perhaps. Lera and her people? Even if he aided them, he was uncertain if they would take up his cause. And that was it. So few allies to pit against the might of the gods.

  Aiken huffed and Kyran started in fright. Spinning around, he reproached the bear, “I thought you were asleep, brother.”

  Aiken snorted, dismissing his comment. “Do not forget the jade bears,” the bear said. “The matriarch will support you.”

  Kyran nodded gravely. “Thank you, brother.”

  Aiken snorted again. His piece said, the bear left Kyran to his thoughts and dropped back into sleep.

  Shaking his head in amusement, Kyran resumed his pacing. He no longer had the luxury of time. He fought back a sudden pang of distress. Nor do I have the freedom to act independently anymore. When it was only his life and the life of his vassals at stake, his choices had been simpler. Easier.

  Risks he had taken previously could no longer be borne. With the lives of an entire town resting on his decisions, he would have to be more circumspect.

  His thoughts drifted to Sara. I can’t allow sentiment to sway me. Seeking her out is no longer an option, he thought sadly. As Iyra’s champion, she is my enemy now. His path crystallised in his mind. He knew what needed to be done.

  It was time to reveal the Well’s existence. To his allies, at least. The moment had come to focus his efforts into building his domain.

  It was time to accept the role that fate—and Eld, perhaps—had cast him into.

  It was time to become a king.

  ✽✽✽

  It was over a week later when the game trail that Sara and the paladins had been following finally came to an end, petering out into a small grove on the east side of the forest Heart.

  Their journey had been uneventful. Well mostly uneventful, thought Sara as she glanced down at the tracking crystal clenched in her hand.

  Over the last few days, the tracking crystal’s magical light had grown to a bright, steady pulse of light, and Sara, caught up in the thrill of the chase, had been beside herself with excitement. Her quarry was close. She just knew it.

  “We should break for camp here,” Ruben announced.

  Sara glanced up and looked around at the grove in question. “Alright, Commander, if you think it best—”

  Something tickled at the edge of her senses. She studied the grove again and frowned.

  “What is it, Milady?” asked Ruben, seeing her arrested expression.

  Sara turned her gaze inwards, activating divine sense to try and identify the source of her unease.

  And froze a second later when the spell reported back.

  The grove was not empty. All around the clearing’s edge were life signs. Dozens of them. She slipped her gaze back into the ‘real,’ and stared at the treeline. There was nothing there. But divine sense did not lie. Something had to be out there.

  “We are not alone, Commander,” she whispered.

  The commander set his hand to his sword and passed concealed signals to his men. “What is it?” he asked tensely.

  Sara bit at her lip. “I’m not sure. Divine sense reports the edges of the clearing to be full of life signs, but I see nothing. In fact…” She put together what she saw in the ‘real’ with what her player’s map told her and paused, startled.

  “Milady?” queried Ruben, breaking through her thoughts.

  “It’s the trees,” she whispered. “Whatever is around us is inside the trees.”

  The commander’s face hardened. “Dryads,” he muttered. “Lieutenants, light the fires,” he ordered. “There are dryads in the trees. I want them smoked out, now!”

  “Dryads?” Sara asked, perplexed.

  “Forest creatures, Milady, that live within the trees. They are evil, and former followers of the god Eld. All Iyran troops have standing orders from the goddess herself to hunt dryads down and kill them on sight. The creatures will be no match for the company. With your leave, Champion, we will see to this.”

  Sara opened her mouth to question the commander further, but he had already swung away. She almost called him back to explain further, but if Iyra herself had issued the orders, there could be no fault with them.

  Sighing, she jumped off her horse and waited for the paladins to finish.

  ✽✽✽

  The paladins collected dead and dry branches from the surrounding forest and built small pyres around each of the trees Sara identified as containing a life sign.

  The commander had explained dryads could not abide smoke. Once the fires were lit, he assured her the creatures would flee the trees that sheltered them and seek to escape.

  Sara herself had little to do. The paladins needed no help from her, other than identifying the ‘infected’ trees. A bit later all the pyres were ablaze and the grove was flooded with dense, billowing smoke.

  Sara sat down cross-legged in the centre of the grove with a cloth tied over her mouth to protect herself from the smoke. She watched curiously as the paladins took battle stances around each of the trees.

  It did not take long for the first of the creatures to emerge. With frightened, fearful jerks of its body, the creature tore itself out of the tree and attempted to flee.

  Then the killing began.

  Two swords flashed out, and before the dryad had taken more than three steps, it was cut down.

  Sara’s mouth dropped open as the hacked-off-head rolled to a stop in front of her. Two large round eyes, startlingly humanlike and set in an elfin face that had seemingly been carved from bark, stared sorrowfully up at her. It looks so young, she thought, stricken by sudden dread.

  Another dryad appeared. Sara turned its way. The dryad was a female humanoid of sorts, with bark-like skin and spindly fingers that resembled the roots of a tree. Clothed in clinging vines, the second dryad tried to escape her companion’s fate, but was cut down nearly as quickly. The dryad screamed as she died.

  Sara flinched.

  The scream had sounded altogether human. More dryads emerged. All female, Sara noted absently. More screams followed. Sara closed her eyes and wished she could block her ears too. This is the goddess’ will, she reminded herself.

  “Please, please, don’t hurt me!”

  Sara’s head whipped around at the shrill cry. It came from a dryad, half as small as the others. A child. A child, pleading on her knees before a looming paladin.

  Sara’s face turned ashen. She jerked to her feet. “Don’t—!”

  She was too late. The paladin’s sword swept remorselessly downwards, severing the dryad child’s head from its body.

  “No,” cried Sara. She whirled around. All over the grove, dryads were dying, cut down with ruthless efficiency by swords of burning light. Picking out the nearest
creature, Sara cast insight.

  Name: Dalia. Race: Dryad (sentient plant).

  Level: 15. Health: 160.

  Stamina: 300. Will: 460. Essence: 700.

  Attack: 13 (blunt).

  Defences: Physical (15), psi (15), spell (24).

  Class: None.

  Traits and abilities:

  Barked: -95% piercing damage received, -60% slashing damage received.

  Description:

  Dryads are one of only a handful of sentient plant species on Myelad, and are made more exceptional by their mobility. While nearly every other plant species is bound to their birth location, dryads possess the ability to wander the land, often times straying many hundreds of miles away from their tree-kin.

  Sentients. The dryads were sentient. Helpless, defenceless sentients cut down by men under her command.

  She had to put a stop to this madness. Searching out Ruben, she marched up to him. “Commander, end this at once.”

  Ruben turned an expressionless face in her direction. “I cannot, Milady.”

  “You will, Commander. That is an order!”

  Ruben folded his arms. “Iyra’s own commands take precedence, Milady,” he replied.

  Sara knew she had no way of forcing him. None of the paladins were her vassals. Sara searched the commander’s face for the slightest bit of compromise, for the smallest indication the commander was willing to budge. There was none. “But why?” she whispered. “These dryads seem such simple, weak creatures. Why would Iyra order their slaughter?”

  “I told you, Milady. They were Eld’s creatures. Ever-loyal to the traitorous god.”

  “But some of them are children, Ruben!”

  “Children grow up,” Ruben replied, unperturbed.

  Sara stared in horror at the paladin. He is serious. She turned full circle, her gaze sweeping the glade. The paladins’ bloody work was nearly done. This cannot be the goddess’ will, she thought desperately.

  “Have we got all of them, Champion?” asked Ruben, intruding on her thoughts.

  “What?” she asked, jerking her gaze back to him and then to the desecrated grove. All the life signs she had spotted initially were gone. I should have known, she realised. Divine sense only identified divine sparks. And only sentient creatures possessed the spark of the divine.

  She should have understood sooner that she participated in murder of people. Innocent people.

  On the far south of the glade was a huddle of divine signatures she had missed earlier. More dryads. Hiding in their trees from the paladins. And Sara.

  “Milady, are there any more dryads?” asked Ruben, prompting her again.

  She met his eyes. “No, Commander, there are no more,” she said softly. She felt her Vow to Iyra tug at her, but she ignored its pull. Technically, she had not seen the other dryads. I do not break my Vow, she insisted stubbornly to herself. Turning around, she fled the grove.

  Chapter 26

  09 Novo 2603 AB

  Very few items in the Game grant traits, and these are all almost uniformly crafted by divine hands. Such items are highly sought after, sometimes even more so than settlements. —Lillian Aimes, sorceress.

  Kyran rose late the next morning, enjoying the simple pleasure of sleeping in a bed once more. When he managed to drag himself out of the bunk, he found his mithril armour cleaned and oiled next to his bedside. He ran his hands down the armour’s gleaming scales, each meticulously buffed and scoured free of grime. Lothar’s young pages had done a marvellous job.

  Looking around, he saw that the rest of the party was already up, and by the sounds of it were busy with breakfast. He donned his armour and hurried to the barracks’ dining hall to join them.

  “Where are the protectors?” he asked as he took a seat next to Adra. The hall was empty but for the party.

  “Done with breakfast already and gone to training.” replied Gaesin. “They seem a dedicated bunch.”

  “All of them?” asked Kyran, chewing through his food.

  “No, the two Lothar assigned to Mirien are standing guard outside the barracks’ entrance,” said Adra.

  “Lothar himself will join us later,” added Mirien.

  Kyran nodded. “Good, it will give us a chance to talk.” He wiped his mouth free of errant crumbs. “I have made a decision.”

  All three of his companions perked up. Fixing their gazes on him, they waited for him to go on.

  “We will stay and help Eldervale.”

  “Yes!” exclaimed Gaesin. “I knew you wouldn’t abandon the town.” Mirien only smiled, and inclined her head in thanks.

  Adra’s brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “But how will you convince the dowager to let us help? Yesterday she seemed quite adamant that we leave.”

  “The artefact I spoke of yesterday, I believe it will convince the dowager of our ability to aid the settlement. But I cannot talk of it here.”

  “Why?” asked Gaesin, confused.

  “Because it’s too dangerous, and we don’t know who may be listening.” He raised his hand, stopping Gaesin’s objection before it began. “I know the settlement is warded against scrying, but I will not trust to Eldervale’s wards alone. The… secret I hold is too big to speak freely of and without further precautions.”

  Mirien stared searchingly at him. “What sort of precautions?”

  “I am not sure yet,” admitted Kyran. “I will have to talk to the dowager first.”

  “And you are sure that whatever you have will be enough to save Eldervale?”

  “Yes,” said Kyran, then shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, that’s not true. I’m mostly certain, but there are a few things I must confirm first.”

  The other three nodded, accepting his words without further questioning.

  “There is more,” said Kyran. “I have decided I will not seek out Iyra’s champion, Sara.”

  Mirien’s eyes widened, but she betrayed no other reaction. “That is wise, Kyran,” she murmured.

  “My place is here,” he continued. “Given the course events have taken, I believe that we must stay in Crotana at least until Misteria’s champion is defeated.” He swung around to face his two oldest companions. “I am sorry, Gaesin and Adra. I know you want to escape the forest, but it seems we will be here much longer than we all expected.”

  Adra shook her head. “Do not take our oaths lightly, Kyran. We have pledged ourselves to you, and will follow wherever you lead.”

  “Thank you, Adra,” Kyran said. “Now, there is more I must tell you all, but it will have to wait until I have spoken to the dowager. Things will become much clearer after that.”

  Mirien looked like she wanted to question him further, but with visible effort she restrained herself. “Alright, Kyran,” she agreed.

  The rest of their meal continued in uninterrupted silence until Lothar walked into the barracks. “Good morning,” greeted the protector.

  Kyran rose to his feet. “Good morning, Lothar. You’re just in time. We are ready to see the dowager.”

  But the protector shook his head. “The dowager is in no condition to see you right now. Her bout of illness took a turn for the worse last night. Perhaps later today she will be hale enough for an audience.”

  Damnit, thought Kyran. Until he saw the dowager there was not much he could do to further his plans.

  “In the meanwhile, Guild Master Tehrilan insists I bring to you to see him.”

  “Why?” asked Kyran sharply.

  Lothar gestured to the amulets each of the party members wore. “The mages need to check the enchantment on the amulets. If they run dry, we could all be in danger of being exposed.”

  Kyran’s lips drew together in a thin line. He didn’t think it necessary—after all, three of the party were mages themselves. But with the dowager unavailable, there was little else for the party to do that morning. “Very well, let’s go.”

  ✽✽✽

  The mage guild was in the town’s eastern quarter and indistinguishable from
the nearby buildings. The wooden doors were thrown wide open and the entire party, including Lothar and the two protectors he had assigned to Mirien, strode within without challenge.

  Inside, the party found itself in a small receiving chamber, whose planked floors were covered with rugs of cerulean blue and whose walls were hung with tapestries overflowing with arcane script.

  Behind a counter at the far end of the room was a young black-haired elf with her head buried within a book. When the party entered, she looked up in surprise, eyes widening at the sight of Aiken. Her gaze flitted frantically from figure to figure before alighting with relief on Lothar’s familiar face.

  “Lord Lothar, what can I do for you?” she asked.

  “Apprentice,” greeted Lothar. “Guild Master Tehrilan wishes to see my companions.”

  The apprentice’s eyes slid from Aiken’s bulk to the much smaller door leading into the hall’s interior beyond. “All of them?” she asked.

  “All of them,” confirmed Lothar.

  The apprentice swallowed and, fumbling only slightly, reached out to a polished crystal next to her. Keeping her hand against the crystal, the young elf closed her eyes. After a moment, Kyran sensed weaves of essence flowing from the apprentice towards the crystal. He leaned forward, and studied the flows of essence intently. What was she doing?

  Mirien noticed his interest. “It’s a short-range communication crystal. The apprentice is communicating with whoever is at its other end—probably Tehrilan.”

  Kyran glanced at Mirien. “Are such devices common in Myelad?” he asked.

  “Not in the domains. They have other means of communicating there.”

  Curious, Kyran walked up to the young elf and cast insight over the crystal.

  Found: Simple communication crystal.

  Type: Enchanted item. Rank: Basic. Requirements: None.

  Remaining charge: 400 / 400 essence.

  Special properties: Allows communication between itself and its matched partner up to a maximum distance of 100m.

  Description: A basic variant of the communication crystal.

 

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