Second Skin: Unified: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 3)

by M Damon Baker

  “Empress?” He prodded me when I sat unmoving for too long.

  “…Dreya?” Stel had to prompt me a second time before I responded.

  “Líann got us over 2,000 Talons, and it made our treasury flush with coin,” I said as my mind tried to grasp the vast sum. “What will nearly 6,000 Talons do for us?”

  “Forgive me, Empress,” Stel seemed to amuse himself with my state of awe. “But perhaps it would help if I explain the value of the platinum bars to you, as I see you are unfamiliar with them. That is understandable, of course; they are typically only used by banks for high-value transactions. Each bar is worth an additional 1,000 Talons. Adding them to the gold we acquired, brings your total to just under 13,000 Talons.”

  “…Empress?”

  “…Dreya?”

  “Dreya!”

  “What are we going to do with all of it? Where did it even come from?” My mind was spinning and those were the first things it threw out when Stel roused me from my stupor.

  “We will fund your Empire for a time,” he replied calmly, trying to ease my confusion. “But even such a vast fortune will run out eventually. Before it does, I will have to find a way to generate more income for you. Perhaps a tax or levy on your vassal states.”

  “As for where it came from, it is the personal wealth of some of the richest families in Arrika. Until you came along, the fortunes of the lords of Hygan and Zonnia hadn’t been pillaged in generations. Those fortunes now belong to you, Empress.”

  “Honestly, Stel.” I replied to him numbly. “I need you to handle this for me. I can’t even comprehend the numbers. And please see that any items or artifacts that should remain in Zonnia are handed over before we depart.”

  “I will see that all of it is taken care of for you,” Stel replied, this time with some care in his voice.

  “Thank you, Stel,” I responded as I got up and left, escaping from the responsibility of the inconceivably large sum of money as quickly as I could.

  In addition to repairing some of the damage we’d done, I sent our soldiers out on patrols to secure the surrounding areas and ensure that no enterprising bandits or other opportunists took advantage of the situation. Towards the end of the first week after our victory, it was one of those patrols that returned with news of Lord Olton’s approach.

  The small group of mounted men that followed behind our patrol flew a white flag of parley, indicating their desire for peaceful talks. I took that for a good sign, and was only more encouraged to see them dismount and give up their weapons readily to the troops we sent to escort them in. As they were brought to me, my companions gathered around, and we greeted the nobles from Ayden together.

  “Welcome,” Broda offered them when they finally stood before us. “I am Ambassador Broda of the First Sintári Empire. I assume Lord Olton is among you?”

  “Well met, Ambassador,” a tall man in bright armor stepped forward. His grey-flecked beard and distinguished bearing marked him clearly as a man of consequence. “I am Lord Olton, and I want to extend my thanks to you for ridding our lands of the blight that had plagued them for so long. I am only sorry that we were not able to accomplish the feat ourselves.”

  “The Empress regrets the need to intervene in your internal affairs,” Broda continued on my behalf. “But the actions of your former leadership left her no choice. With them now removed, she only seeks to ensure that your Realm is secure and under proper guidance before she departs with our forces.”

  “I assume that I have been asked here to determine whether I can provide the ‘proper guidance’ you seek for Zonnia?” Olton replied quite correctly.

  “The Empress only requires that the next leader of Zonnia be at peace with her,” Broda deflected. “A peace that must be ensured by the adoption of the Imperial Charter.”

  “I opposed the lords you slew here,” Olton bristled slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to betray my people or my Realm.”

  “What about my Charter makes you think I’m asking you to do anything like that, Lord Olton?” I finally spoke out and made my presence known.

  “I read your terms, Empress,” Olton responded to me brusquely. “While I would not have slain your representative for offering them, I’m certainly not willing to pay the tribute you demand or send you half our soldiers for that matter.”

  “No such terms exist in my Charter, Lord Olton,” I replied as I handed him a copy of the parchment. “You have been deceived.”

  He took the paper from me and then read the words written on it for himself. Twice.

  “This is not the same document we were presented with at the lords’ conclave,” he revealed to me. “Is this truly the Charter you offered to us?”

  “It is the only Charter I’ve ever offered to any Realm,” I assured him. “As you can see, there is no mention of any tribute, and the military commitment required is quite minimal.”

  “What do you require of me, Empress?” he replied, already stepping into his role as my vassal.

  “You read my Charter,” I answered him directly. “I only ask that you govern in accordance with its terms. The rest of your affairs I leave up to you.”

  “I would offer you my oath to do so right now,” Olton offered quite solemnly. “But your soldiers took our weapons.”

  “Then use mine,” I replied, drawing Retribution and letting it reveal its full form in front of his disbelieving eyes. “It has served that role more than once.”

  “I thought the tales of your gifts from the Gods were only lies,” he said in awe as he grasped the bow’s grip. “Or at best exaggerations. Tell me, is everything I’ve heard about you really true?”

  “That depends, Lord Olton, on what you might have heard,” I couldn’t help but grin as I answered him.

  “If you’ve heard that I am Sintári, blessed by the Gods and in the company of the first Dragon that Arrika has seen in millennia,” I nearly laughed as I spoke to him. “Then yes, the rumors are quite true.”

  To emphasize my point, I’d signaled Bane to land behind me, and the ground vibrated with the impact of his arrival just as I finished speaking. Bane’s head, neck, and even his shoulders towered above the guards beside me. He scanned the lords and nobles who’d arrived with Olton, glaring at them with his deep gold eyes as he looked them over one by one before settling his gaze directly on Olton. The effect was all I could have hoped for.

  “I pledge my loyalty to you, Empress, and swear to faithfully uphold the terms of your Imperial Charter.” Olton immediately dropped to his knees and took his oath to me with his fingers wrapped tightly around Retribution’s grip.

  “I accept your words, your Majesty,” I replied, granting him his title as I took the weapon back from him. “I consider all matters between us to be settled, but there are a few minor details that my Ambassador and First Minister need to discuss with you before you depart.”

  We had planned for this possible outcome, and Broda led Lord, now King Olton, away while Venna followed closely behind. They would make sure he fully understood the terms of the Imperial Charter and would also get him to sign the required copies of it while they did so. In addition, the two would determine what Olton might need to rebuild his Realm, and when we might expect his lands to recover and supply us with the soldiers the Charter required each Realm to contribute to the Imperial Army. I stressed to them that we needed to be lenient regarding that last requirement, especially in light of the destruction we ourselves had wrought in these very lands.

  After a few hours, the new King departed with his entourage and Broda came to me to brief me on their talks. The other major towns in Zonnia, aside from Ondale, were actually in decent shape, and Olton felt that they’d be able to tend to themselves while he organized the restructuring and rebuilding of his Kingdom. Broda offered to loan him 500 of our soldiers to keep Ondale secure while he did so, and the King accepted, quite gratefully she relayed. In addition, Olton promised to meet Zonnia’s military obligation to the Empire wi
thin six months, a rather ambitious target in my mind, but Broda said he’d been quite certain he’d meet that mark. The only other issues, she assured me, were minor ones I needn’t worry about, and I gladly took her word for it. With every last matter I set out to accomplish resolved, I ordered our return home to begin the next morning.

  My mind had been focused on my own struggles containing the darkness within me for most of the time I’d been away. In the aftermath of the battle for Ondale, the sudden release from that burden and my subsequent distraction with another sort of release entirely, kept me from realizing a certain harsh fact. While I’d finally been able to vent the darkness that was my V’Ríel, Líann had no such opportunity to let go of her burden. She would continue to suffer the effects of bearing that weight until I got back to her and freed her from its undoubtedly crippling consequences. But there was a full month’s journey ahead of me before I could even attempt to do that, and I only hoped that I was overestimating the price she was paying for my extended absence. I simply wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I’d caused her any lasting harm. Líann was my Táriel, even if I hadn’t gotten her to realize her full potential yet. Just considering that fact made what I’d so unthinkingly done to her hurt me even more.

  And while my concern for her well-being was foremost in my mind, and I recognized her importance to me both for her ability to help with my V’Ríel and as my Táriel, I came to realize that what I missed the most was Líann herself, and not her abilities. She’d worked her way into my heart far more deeply than I’d realized, something our long separation made me painfully aware of. I didn’t just need Líann for her abilities, I simply needed Líann.

  So, I made it clear in my order to depart that we were to make our best speed on the road, and that I would allow no delays other than the camps we made overnight. If need be, I was willing to march ahead alone if that’s what it would take for me to get back to Líann even sooner.

  The issue of the perceived suffering I’d inflicted on Líann plagued me over every mile of our journey home. But, in addition to that, the feelings I experienced after the slaughter in Ondale made me wonder about my own future.

  The incredible sensation of the near absence of my darkness made me realize a hard reality: Líann’s ability to absorb a portion of my V’Ríel, while both helpful and impressive, was limited in one very important respect. While she was able to ease my burden and even buy me some time, only actually using my powers to kill or in battle truly took away the darkness inside me. As long as I had a war on the horizon, there was hope for me to be able to vent the shadows that haunted me. But what would happen to me after I finally achieved my goals and there was no more conflict? That day was far off, to be sure, but I was beginning to understand that my plans needed to be made, at least in part, on the scale of decades and even centuries. When the day came that I was able to bring peace to Arrika, would it also spell the beginning of the end for me?

  Fuck. I just didn’t even want to think about that—yet it continued to haunt me as we slowly marched towards home.

  The only diversion I had from the day-to-day monotony were the endless caravans we came across, some of which were already heading back to their homes in the horse lands. Word of events spread faster than we traveled, and with the war over far more quickly than anyone anticipated, nearly all of the former refugees began to return home. Even though some still chose to strike out for new lands, it seemed that Hygan and Zonnia would have most of their people back before too long.

  “You’re a mess, Dreya, and I think I know, at least generally, what’s been bothering you.” Tási whispered to me one night. “She’s not my favorite subject, but I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

  I knew Líann was not a popular topic for her, so I hadn’t expressed the concerns that had been bothering me so much. But other than Tási, I really had no one else to confide in. Even though Ella and Venna were Tári, their bond with me was far less intense—Tási was the only one who’d truly understand just what Líann might be experiencing.

  “Do you remember how bad it was for me by the time we got to Ondale?” I reminded her. “How I was nearly out of my mind with the darkness that had built up inside me?”

  “I do,” I felt Tási shiver against me with the memory. “But you were able to get it out of you then. You’re fine now.”

  “I’ve been able to vent,” I made my point to her. “She still hasn’t.”

  “Oh,” she finally realized. “That’s not good. She’s your darkness.”

  I couldn’t help it—her simple, yet stark words struck right at the heart of what had been eating away at me for days. The guilt and anxiety over what I’d done and the damage I’d caused and would continue to cause every day until I returned welled up inside me and burst forth in a flood of tears as I buried my face against Tási’s shoulder.

  My tears turned to wracking sobs and I emptied all of my pent-up guilt and self-recriminations out while Tási held me close and tried to console me. My guilt only intensified as I realized that I was pouring out my feelings for Líann on Tási’s shoulder. Being Sintári and dealing with my Tári was a terribly complicated and delicate thing, and I had screwed it up—completely.

  “We’ll get back to her as soon as we can,” Tási stroked my hair as she spoke to me softly. “And if there’s anything you need me to do to help her, I will. I know that you love her too, Dreya. That’s who we are now. It’s not just you and her and me and you. We’re not really separate—it’s all of us. We’re all in this together. The four of us are here for you, and you’re here for us in return. I may not fully understand being a Tári, but I’m coming to terms with it.”

  “I think you may understand it even better than I do,” I said as I wiped away the last of my tears. “Thank you for saying that, Tási.”

  Part of me had still been thinking of things in terms of human relationships. But the concept of monogamy and even polygamy didn’t come close to describing the relationship between a Sintári and their Tári. Just like there were no words to describe the feeling of cleansing each other’s V’Ríel, the deep bonds we shared were beyond the ability of mere words to explain. It had to be felt to truly be understood. Tási had made me recognize my mistake—I needed to think of my Tári in terms of how we made each other feel, and what we meant to each other, not in the restricted way that crude words allowed.

  But the words Tási had spoken did ring true in one very important way. She’d been right to say that we were in this together. We were more like a single entity in some ways, linked together by our shared V’Ríel, with me in the center of it all, holding them together somehow. There was far more to it than that, but that was as deeply as my mind was prepared to delve into the intricate web of our connections just then.

  I felt better after speaking my worries out loud, and even more so after I shed my tears and heard Tási’s caring and insightful words. When she nudged me over, I yielded to her immediately, and she sent her calming waters flowing across my back and shoulders as I lay still among the pillows. That night I fell asleep easily for the first time in many days, but that wasn’t the last time during our long trek home that Tási had to sooth my guilt as it continued to take hold over me while the days passed all too slowly.

  We were over halfway home and passing through the unclaimed territory between Eória and Olóra when we heard the first howls echoing through the forest around us. While I recognized the deadly intent in those keening wails, I couldn’t quite recall where I’d heard them before. Then I heard the answering cries that rose up from among the ranks of our soldiers.

  “Beastkin! Form up!”

  The deformed creatures were one of the most terrible threats facing the people of Arrika, and we’d been lucky to not have encountered them before, but their menace could only be avoided for so long. Hordes of the foul monsters seemed to spring up from out of nowhere only to wreak havoc across the countryside, killing everything in their path and breeding indiscr
iminately with almost any person or creature they could.

  While Evans and his officers hurried to shift our Army from its traveling formations into some sort of viable defensive perimeter, memories of the battle I fought by his side, my first true battle, came flooding back to me.

  We’d nearly been overrun, although part of the reason that occurred was because the commander of the Citadel wanted it to happen, but still—even with the fortifications of that impressive structure, the reckless onslaught of the hideous creatures had been devastating. Out here in the open, without the protection of that structure’s high walls, even my great Army was in dire jeopardy.

  The initial sounds we’d heard had come from the scouts and outliers of the beastkin pack that had stumbled across us. Those scattered few charged our lines before we could get organized, but despite their frenzied attack, their few numbers were easily dispatched by our archers and Evokers before they could do any damage. But it wasn’t those scattered attacks that concerned me as I stood among my archers with Retribution drawn. It was the horde they’d led to us that filled me with dread.

  But Evans had instilled a sense of strict discipline and employed a harsh regimen when he trained our Army, and it paid off solidly as the soldiers were able to form up with impressive speed. A nearly solid wall of metal, bristling with the spear points of our second line of troops, was locked in place before the main body of the beastkin horde arrived. Archers and Evokers prepared to back them up with their deadly ranged attacks, and the skirmishers stood ready to protect our flanks and rear from any beastkin that approached them.

  This assault would be unlike the more organized battle in Ondale—our enemy would employ no intricate strategies or tactics. Our survival depended on our ability to withstand the onslaught of their overwhelming numbers; nothing more. And while the sheer power of the God-forged arrows in the Quiver of the Elements was undeniable, those were meant to destroy individual targets, and didn’t provide the mass damage I needed for this battle. I intended to fire as many Shockwave arrows as I possibly could before resorting to the fire and ice arrows that had become my favorites, or possibly the earth-enhanced shafts, as their impact effect might buy us some much-needed time under the right circumstances. But to do so meant I needed all of my Aura, so I dismissed Ridge and the other elemental I’d been holding with my summons, and my Aura began to immediately tick back up to its full level. I had seven, maybe eight shots I could launch if things went well before I’d exhaust that pool, and I needed to make every single one of them count.