Almost as suddenly as the catatonic state had taken her, Líann recovered from it, taking in a long, deep breath as she did. I held her tightly as she took in several more breaths and recovered from the ordeal she’d undergone. Only when I felt her body finally relax again did I peel myself away from her and ask her what had happened to her.
“I… froze,” she replied, still somewhat disoriented. “I’m not sure what happened, but I’ve been changed again. I’m no longer who I was. I’m your Táriel now.”
When Líann spoke those last words, I heard them; not with my ears, but in my soul. In those few terrifying moments, she truly had become my Táriel—my everything. I could feel the change in her then. Something incredible had happened while she’d been away from her own body, and when Líann returned to herself, she was more than she’d ever been before. More than I probably deserved, but everything the two of us needed to complete each other.
Nothing else mattered to me then—not my Empire nor its impending war. Not even my quest meant anything at all to me. The only thing that mattered was Líann, my Táriel, and I stayed with her for hours without a care in the world. We had nearly an eternity ahead of us together, and I realized even that might be too short a time with her.
But that time still had to wait. I’d made my promises to Tási, and despite what had happened, I didn’t intend on breaking any of them. Even Líann was reluctant to push me to break those words, and she encouraged me to leave her side for the night as well, knowing that we still had many centuries ahead of us yet to come. Honestly, if she’d pushed me to stay, I cannot say that I would have been able to resist my Táriel. But Líann had grown so much in just the short span of moments, and she held me to my promises just as strongly as she would have if I’d made those vows to her instead of Tási.
It was late; far later than I realized when I made it back to the rooms Tási and I shared in Oróna, but she said nothing as I crawled into bed beside her. Tási only welcomed me back and snuggled up next to me before falling asleep on my shoulder. I felt incredibly guilty then, with her sleeping peacefully beside me, unaware of what had just happened. I’d replaced her—replaced the woman who, more than anyone, was responsible for making me who I was. Tási was perhaps even more responsible for who I’d become than I was myself. Without her, none of what I’d accomplished would have been possible. Yet I could no longer say that she was first in my heart anymore. Truthfully, Líann hadn’t taken that place from her just that night, but had done so long ago, the very moment I knew that she’d someday become my Táriel. On that day, Líann hadn’t diminished my love for Tási, I’d let her do something far worse… I’d allowed Líann to eclipse it.
But that was something I’d never let Tási know, much less feel. Letting it happen was bad enough; allowing Tási to feel it would be an unpardonable sin—a betrayal of her love that I simply wouldn’t commit. Líann and I could afford to wait. What we shared wouldn’t suffer for the delay of a few short decades. Tási would know nothing but the love I had for her, and not how it had been surpassed. I’d sooner die than let that happen. As Tási slept beside me, guilty tears began streaming down my face. That was the first night I cried myself to sleep next to her, and I was certain that it would not be the last.
29
The next morning, Tási nudged me awake and we got ready to begin our march off to war together. Her playful smile and attitude did a great deal to sooth my guilty heart, and I fell into our easy, comfortable manner as if nothing had happened. This was how I needed to be when I was with her, and I was grateful for how easy she made it for me. There was no need for me to force anything when I was with Tási—my love for her remained both genuine and intense.
We shared breakfast before joining our Army outside Oróna’s walls. The vast train of soldiers and equipment had already begun marching away, starting its nearly five-week journey to our destination across the narrow straights from Ansa. Rather than get in the way of their efforts, I chose to remain in my carriage where Tási and I chatted about anything we could come up with to serve as a distraction during the long hours of boredom.
Eventually, the carriage jolted to a start, and we were on our way as well. I knew that my position was almost directly in the middle of the long line of soldiers, and that it would be many more hours before the final train of supply wagons finally began its journey. But Tási had a remarkable ability to fall asleep almost at will; she was soon snoring softly with the slow rocking motion of the carriage, and I was left alone with only the company of my thoughts again.
Boredom took its toll, and I sought any diversion, finally resorting to looking over my sheet just as a distraction. But once I opened the UI, I saw that I had a notification pending. I had an uneasy feeling about what it was, but with Tási still sleeping quite soundly, I opened it up anyway, despite how awkward it felt to do so.
Sintári Quest, Control, Complete — Helping your Táriel reach her fulfillment has brought you well beyond the threshold of mastering all the elements of being a Sintári. You have achieved that which few Sintári ever imagined possible. Of course, there is still more room for you to grow, but the task of becoming mistress of your own emotions is complete.
Complete? Did that really say complete? Reading the message several times over didn’t seem to change the words one bit, and I slumped back against the carriage’s plush cushions and continued to stare at the words floating in my vision for a long while.
I’d had a really good level of control over my emotions for quite some time; they’d only been able to slip out of my grasp when I’d been away from Líann for too long. Other than that, as long as I had my Tári to help me keep things from getting out of hand, I was able to manage most anything. But to see that quest finally finished was an incredible relief, and the feeling of freedom that accompanied it was so powerful that it took me quite a while to notice what had been left out of the message—there had been no reward.
I felt cheated for about half a second, but then I realized that Líann herself was more of a reward than anything else I could imagine. Thinking about things in those terms made me realize something else that I’d completely overlooked—Tási.
I’d been so consumed with guilt thinking about how I was letting Líann take her place and viewing Tási in terms of what she wasn’t, rather than appreciating just who she was. Tási wasn’t anything less because she wasn’t my Táriel; she was just as much my everything as I’d always thought she was. The fact that Líann had become something more didn’t have to change anything between us. That was only my mind stuck once more thinking in human terms, but I was a Sintári—I was capable of much more than that.
That was when I recognized the real reward I’d received: the ability to perceive things in Sintári, and not human terms. My love for my Tári and my Táriel didn’t have to conform to any of the limited concepts that humanity used to constrain their emotions. I could love each of them fully and completely. None of them needed to be ‘first’ in my mind; they all held that position. I was more than capable of giving myself to each of them, without reservation. And I also knew that eventually, I could teach them to understand that as well.
Only after I’d spent a great deal of time musing over that point did I finally close the window I’d been staring at. Over the course of my life, I’d come to a number of stark realizations about myself, but from the day I’d first understood who I was to uncovering the many challenges of being a Sintári, this was the most powerful of all. I’d come to love four very different women, not only because of my need for them, but for who they were and how they made me feel—not just about them, but about myself when I was with them.
During my time with them, I’d been plagued with a sense of guilt over how my mind seemed to relentlessly need to categorize and rank my love for them against each other, but that was a fool’s errand—one I had no need for. Understanding that was the key to finally understanding myself. I was a Sintári, unbound by the limits of humanity. If I could feel
something in my soul, then it was real. My love, just like all my emotions, had no limits.
As the window closed, my vision failed to resolve into clarity however, as the tears I’d cried the night before resumed again. Only this time, instead of tears of guilt, they were tears of joy. I’d felt like I’d betrayed Tási, and myself as well, by finding an even stronger love with Líann. But neither of those things were true. I’d betrayed nothing—I’d only uncovered another facet of myself, and denying that part of me would have been the only true betrayal.
Achieving that state of peace changed the entire tenor of our march northwards for me. I was able shed every bit of doubt and guilt I’d had about being with my Tári, and the moments I spent with them were among the most fulfilling I’d ever experienced. The truth I’d found made all the difference. Not only to me, but to them as well, because it wasn’t just my truth I’d discovered, it was ours.
We had the roads almost entirely to ourselves during our march. Word spread quickly ahead of us, and the caravans and other travelers cleared the way for us rather than get held up waiting for the long tail of our procession to pass them by. Although the people of the land let us through easily, the creatures were somewhat less compliant.
Our final destination was the city of Harford, in the Realm of Ryland. On our way there, we suffered two more attacks by small mobs of beastkin, but the roving bands never made it close to our ranks and were cut down before I even had a chance to join in on their slaughter.
The attacks both frustrated and puzzled me—on both occasions, the beastkin came at us in such small numbers that my Army had wiped them out completely before I even had a chance to step out of my carriage. Their assaults were so obviously doomed to failure that I couldn’t understand why the practically rabid beastkin hadn’t retreated in the face of such overwhelming odds, until Ella pointed out the one element all the attacks had in common.
“Each group of beastkin charged straight at your carriage, Dreya,” she noted to me as she tripled the number of troops that surrounded my position among the Army’s long train.
“I don’t pretend to know what motivates them,” Ella finished. “But that’s far more than mere coincidence can account for.”
The origins of the beastkin had always been a subject of great debate. What hadn’t been an issue was the seemingly complete randomness of the locations where their mobs and hordes sprung up, and the places they attacked. But once Ella pointed it out to me, I couldn’t deny the single-minded nature of their focus on my Army, and me in particular. Regardless of how the beastkin came into existence in the past, someone or something in the present was exerting a level of control over them that had never been noted before.
I’d made my intentions to conquer the Dark Lands quite clear, and I couldn’t help but wonder if something within those lands wasn’t content to simply sit back and wait for me to come for them. The implications of that thought were more than just a little disturbing.
Fortunately, we reached Harford without any further incident and set up camp alongside its harbor. Ansa lay directly across the straights from us, and we were certain that our foes had spies among the city’s fisherfolk and traders. Although we’d planned for this possibility, ultimately, we knew that we couldn’t totally eliminate the risk of our plans being discovered. But I had no other choice—Ansa had forced my hand, and the Realm needed to be conquered for my quest to move forward.
That night we did our best to sweep through the harbor and secure every last vessel capable of crossing the waters to Ansa, and in the morning, the city awoke to a fleet of halfling ships from Isouri strung out across the bay. Our ‘preparations’ had arrived just in time. Nadiel had come through for us, supplying my Army with the means to reach Ansa’s shores. We quickly loaded the ships with soldiers and then sent them off towards Ansa to engage our enemies.
The fleet landed a thousand troops, comprised of 500 heavily-armored front line soldiers and another 500 spears, just south of Ansa’s capitol of Dover. But when the vessels turned to head back and retrieve more of our forces, the Ansans seized on the opportunity to attack our beachhead and poured forth from their fortress to overwhelm our temporarily lesser numbers. They knew that if they waited for the full force of our Army to arrive, that we’d eventually take their stronghold, and were determined to defeat us piecemeal as we landed on their shores.
Our outnumbered forces withdrew before the onslaught and set up a defensive line in the shadows of the forest that lined the road approaching Dover—it was the best option left to them when the Ansans closed in for the kill. Our enemy knew what we’d have to do to try and conquer them and planned to counter our assault perfectly. As an island nation, the Ansans never felt the need to maintain an overly-large military force, but it seemed as if they’d gathered every last soldier they had for their defense, and nearly 2,500 of them closed in on our obviously overmatched troops. Spears protruded from a solid wall of Dwarven Steel armor, bracing for the Ansans’ charge, but when they got within a hundred yards of our lines, we sprung our own trap on them in return.
The soldiers before the Ansans were not our first wave—they were our third. Under cover of the moonless night, we’d landed twice prior and hid our forces in the trees of the forest. With the Ansans enticed out from beyond the safety of their walls, those 2,000 soldiers slammed into the exposed flank and rear of the Ansan lines, carving a swath of utter destruction through their stunned army. The rout the Ansans had envisioned was in full force, only it was their army that found themselves on the wrong side of its dwindling ledger. Fire and lightning rained down among them amidst a hail of arrows as the Ansans found themselves pinned between two solid walls of Dwarven Steel armor and long ash lances, with no choice but to endure or sacrifice themselves on our blades.
Weapons were thrown to the ground and hands raised in the air as the Ansans surrendered en masse. The ambush had worked perfectly, and our trap had managed to kill or capture nearly every armed Ansan the Realm had at its disposal, while suffering very few losses ourselves. While the survivors were disarmed and taken captive, one single soldier was allowed to return with our terms: unconditional surrender.
We’d disarmed their entire nation in just a single battle, and with virtually no one to defend their walls, the Ansans were left with no choice but to capitulate. The King and his ruling house were immediately deposed and exiled, and I chose his successor from among the nobles that had argued against his foolhardy resistance to my Empire. In the span of that afternoon, I granted the title of King to yet another monarch and secured one of the two Realms left for me to conquer. Our victory was nearly without blemish.
After resurrections were complete, we’d lost only 53 of our soldiers. The Ansans had suffered far greater, but with the windfall of gold I’d gained after taking the horse lands, I’d purchased even more resurrection scrolls. Since our former enemies had become our allies, we used those to restore as many of them as possible as well. In the end it cost me nothing, since we’d confiscated the wealth of Ansa’s former King before sending him away into exile.
The goodwill that gesture won us was priceless, however, and the Ansans repaid it by immediately reassigning 500 of their soldiers to the Imperial Army, satisfying their military commitment to me in full. We’d not only won a great victory that day but also managed to turn a bitter foe into a stalwart ally—a rather amazing stroke of good fortune.
We ferried most of our troops back to the mainland over the next few days, choosing not only to take our time, but also to share in the Ansans’ hospitality. Their former King had been something of a petty tyrant, and they welcomed their change in government for more than one reason. The celebrations went on for days; well beyond the time our last ship departed from Dover, and we began the final leg of our journey of conquest hoping for an equally good resolution to our conflict with Laska.
Between the aftermath of the battle, the coronation of the new King, and the festivities that followed, I’d been kept quite
busy. But before beginning the trip north, I took the time to review the long series of notifications that I’d received.
Valued User: Due to the large volume of your pending notifications, level-up options have been delayed until after you’ve cleared them. We hope this slight modification improves your gaming experience.
Experience gained – You have gained 385 XP.
…
Experience gained – You have gained 385 XP.
Commander’s bonus – You have earned party credit for every kill made under your command or the direct command of one of your party members.
Experience gained – You have gained 43 XP.
…
Experience gained – You have gained 43 XP.
You have gained a level! – You have earned sufficient experience to advance to level 43.
You have gained three Attribute points. Two of your points have been automatically assigned to WIS and CHA. You may assign the remaining point to any other Attribute as you see fit.
I’d chosen to oversee more than participate in the battle, but had still made a number of kills of my own. Combined with the Commander’s Bonus, it had been enough for one more level. Saibra had remained by my side as a bodyguard and hadn’t seen any combat, so I missed getting her boon. Still, it had worked out well enough, and I placed my point in Strength before looking over my personal sheet.
Dreya Dae
Sintári Female
Titles: Sintári, Empress
Level - 43
772385/791200
Second Skin: Unified: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 3) Page 97