by Dante King
“Typical,” Sir Gallant the Younger scoffed.
“Nobody asked you,” Melody retorted.
“My people are preparing some food for them,” Sybil said. “And for us, when we are ready to eat.”
“Ew,” Vinata exclaimed. “They’re preparing meat, aren’t they?”
“My people are skilled at preparing many kinds of food.” Sybil’s tone was defensive.
Ben chuckled. “Now, now, we’ve all had a long journey. There’s no need to fight amongst yourselves - we have plenty of enemies for that. I’ll see that we all get something refreshing to drink before we begin.”
They all left the elevator on the third level and made their way to a large hall. The gigantic obsidian doors were sealed, as they had been when Ben had first investigated this floor.
But this time, as they approached, Ben saw a message.
Welcome to the Council Hall of Benzhameen the Forgotten Ruler
“Looks like the tower recognized our need this time,” Ben remarked. He put his hands on the giant doors, which stretched up to twice his height. They swung open easily at his touch.
The hall was a vast, circular chamber. One side of the circle intersected with the outside of the tower. The wall on that section was made of transparent glass, providing a golden view of the forest, miles below.
The rest of the wall was made of dark obsidian. The floor was also black, but with red glass forming geometric patterns in it. A huge round glass table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by at least thirty chairs. An elaborate chandelier hung above the table, lit by faintly glowing crystals.
Ben couldn’t help but be reminded of King Arthur and his round table. He could already imagine standing before it, each seat filled with one of his trusted confidants and advisors. It was scene fit for a ruler.
“That chair must be for you, Ben,” Melody said, pointing at a chair with a higher back and an ornate crimson inlay that sprawled through its obsidian like veins.
“I think you’re right,” Ben said. The other chairs were made of a simple gray stone.
“Why is there so much dust on the table?” Sybil asked. “Have you not done any cleaning in this tower yet?”
Ben coughed with slight embarrassment. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t able to access this room until just now.”
“That’s not a problem,” Sybil said. “If you like I can have my people come in to clean the room.” It occurred to Ben how essential that would be. The tower was huge, and a cleaning staff would be necessary to keep it in good order.
“Thank you,” Ben said. “But that will have to wait. We have more important business first.”
“There are symbols on all of these chairs,” Melody said, stooping to study one of them.
Ben went over to inspect it. Sure enough, each of the gray stone chairs had an image carved into its back.
“There ought to be names on them as well,” Sir Gallant the Younger said. “In your old council hall, you had chairs for each of the masters that served your kingdom.”
“So, the chairs are reserved for particular masters?” Ben asked.
“I believe so, my lord,” Sir Gallant the Younger replied.
“Where do we sit then?” Lulu asked.
“You will have to check the names on each of the chairs,” the tiny knight said.
“And if there are no chairs with our names on them?” the undine asked.
“Well, I suppose you will have to stand.” Sir Gallant the Younger smirked, much to the water nymph’s irritation. “Or perhaps you’re not important enough to have one.”
“There’s no name on this chair,” Melody said, stooping to read the back of the stone chair to the right of Ben’s. Her tail flicked as she bent down to examine the chair. Her tight round ass pressed against the short shorts she was wearing.
A stirring in the loins reminded Ben of how long it had been since he had seen that ass without the shorts. He shook his head to clear it.
“What is written on the chair?” Ben asked.
“There’s a symbol of a feather quill. And it says Master of Letters,” Melody said. “No wait, it’s… changing. Mistress of Letters.”
Ben stooped down beside Melody. Gold light glowed from the dark stone, as if a brilliant light source behind the chair were escaping through the cracks in the stone. The word Master on the chair had been rearranged to say Mistress.
“There’s no name,” Ben said. “Who does the chair belong to?”
“I don’t think it’s finished,” Melody said.
She was right. The light continued to emanate from the stone, carving out letters.
The catgirl gasped when the name appeared.
“Melody,” Ben said. “Melody is the new Mistress of Letters.”
“Oh!” Sir Gallant exclaimed.
Melody stood and looked at Ben, her vivid purple eyes full of emotion. “Mistress of Letters sounds like the perfect role for me.”
“You are fond of books, aren’t you?” Ben said.
Melody laughed softly. “Archmage Kamila could never get me out of the library, even when I had other duties to attend to.”
“Speaking of,” Ben looked at Sir Gallant, still perched on Sybil’s shoulder. “What are the duties of the Mistress of Letters?”
“The Master of Letters, as the role was before, was held by your chief advisor, my lord.” Sir Gallant the Younger pointed at the chair. “That is why it is placed directly at your right hand.”
Ben looked at Melody. A tear formed in her eye.
“This is a greater honor than I ever expected,” she said.
“No one is more worthy of it than you, Melody.” Ben reached out a finger and wiped the tear away.
“Well, then,” Melody squared her shoulders and turned to the others. “As Mistress of Letters, I guess it will be up to me to bring order to this meeting. Let’s see who else gets a seat at the Forgotten Ruler’s table.”
They made their way around the table, checking the backs of the stone chairs.
“The names are all blank,” Ben said. “They have titles and symbols, but no names on them.”
“This one’s changing,” Vinata said. “It looks like a name is being carved on it now.”
She was standing in front of the chair next to Melody’s.
“What’s the symbol on that chair?” Ben asked.
Vinata bent down and looked closely. The action emphasised the supple curve of her back, her dusky skin gleaming in the soft light from the crystals overhead.
“It’s a bud,” she said. “The petals are opening into a flower.”
“What title does it have?” Melody asked. She looked concerned, perhaps about who would be placed next to her at the table.
“Mistress of Cultivation,” Vinata said. “I wonder what sort of role that is.”
“That would be the one who tends to the gardens and forests of the Empire,” Sir Gallant the Younger informed them.
Vinata tensed. “That chair must be for me then. Surely?”
“You’ll have to wait and see what name appears on it, Vinny,” Lulu said.
They waited with bated breath.
“It is me!” Vinata eventually exclaimed. I’m the Mistress of Cultivation.”
“Congratulations,” Ben said. “That does seem like the perfect job for you.”
Melody pouted. “I don’t suppose these chairs can be moved, can they?”
Ben laughed. “The carnivore and the vegetarian have to sit side by side. Don’t worry, I don’t expect we’ll be eating in here.”
Vinata and Melody eyed each other hesitantly, but a twinkle in Melody’s bright eyes was enough to show that she harbored no true animosity.
“What about me?” Lulu said. “I want a chair too.”
“I think we might have to walk around the room and see which chair lights up for you,” Ben said. He glanced at Sir Gallant the Younger.
“That would be my guess as well, my lord,” the little statue said.
Ben shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. This is new to me as much as it is to you.”
“There must be a reason why they are choosing people though,” the aurochwoman pressed. “It doesn’t seem to be random.”
“I was the one who built this tower, all those eons ago,” Ben said. “As far as I can make out, the tower must contain a remnant of my own mind.”
As they continued around the room, another chair lit up gold on the back.
“I wonder who this one is for,” Ben said.
“Sybil is standing next to it,” Lulu observed.
“It couldn’t be a chair for me,” Sybil said, her dark skin flushing. “I am not worthy of a seat at the Forgotten Ruler’s table.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Lulu said.
Ben crouched to get a look at the chair. “The symbol is a hooded mask. Master of Torture, it says.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting!” Sir Gallant the Younger rubbed his stony hands together as he stood on Sybil’s shoulder.
“There, you see,” Sybil said. “A master. And torture is hardly my domain.”
“You’re right about that,” Ben said. He got to his feet as the light on the back of the chair faded. “Sir Gallant the Younger, congratulations on your new position, Master of Torture.”
Sir Gallant whooped with delight and clapped his hands. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“There are so many empty chairs,” Melody remarked, as they circled the table. “Masters of alchemy, armor, weapons, farming, brewing.”
“There are mistresses too,” Vinata said. “Necromancy, soothsaying, healing, building.”
“I suppose that means I once had mistresses at my council table as well,” Ben said. “Since those roles haven’t been filled since I left.” He was vaguely gratified to think he had been progressive about gender equality back when he was a ruler in the past. Besides, Ben couldn’t bear to be trapped in a meeting with two dozen stodgy old men—he’d much rather be in a room with his voluptuous wives.
“There’s a master of defenses,” Sybil observed. “One of music, one of tailors. It appears that your Empire is well staffed.”
“Well, it will be,” Ben said. “I have to awaken the old masters and find new ones as well.”
They reached the other side of the table, approaching Ben’s high-backed throne again.
“I do hope we don’t have to stand,” Lulu grumbled. “That would be so unfair.”
“Looks like at least one of you is in luck,” Ben said, as the chair to the left of Ben’s lit up.
Lulu crouched in front of it, giving Ben a direct view of her vast cleavage.
“Mistress of Love,” she read out. “Oh, I wonder who will get that role.”
Ben bent beside Lulu to see the back of the chair for himself. A woman stood beneath the title of the seat, clad in a flowing robe, with her face blindfolded. It reminded him of the common image of Lady Justice.
In her left hand, where Lady Justice held scales, this woman held a long scepter.
“It’s almost an exact replica of Lady Justice,” Ben said. “But instead of scales, she’s holding—”
“A cock and balls,” Lulu said, her face spreading into a smile. “Lady Love.”
She reached for Ben’s own scepter, but he dodged out of the way. He needed to keep his head clear.
The gold light on the back of the chair faded.
“Lulu,” Ben read out. “Congratulations, Mistress of Love.”
Lulu whooped with triumph and jumped, making her very large breasts bounce distractingly. “And I’m at your left hand, Ben - the most important place in the hall.”
Melody raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? Isn’t the right hand the most important?”
“I am next to Ben’s heart, the center of his being,” Lulu insisted.
“You’re both important,” Ben said. “You can council my heart, Lulu, and you can council my head, Melody.”
“Both heads,” Melody retorted, with a smirk.
“Hey, the other head is mine,” Lulu said. “I’m the Mistress of Love.”
“Ladies, ladies, you’ll all get to council that head,” Ben intervened. “Enough, it’s time to get down to business.”
Sybil approached Ben’s chair. “I will stand nearby for the time being, if it pleases you, my lord.”
“Of course,” Ben said. “Perhaps I can bring another chair—”
He broke off. “The chair next to Lulu’s is glowing. Let’s first see who will sit there.”
A couple of wreaths of leaves were depicted on that chair, with plump fruits growing on them. The title on top was Mistress of Victuals.
“Everyone else already has a chair,” Melody said. “This one must be for Sybil.”
“But I could not possibly have a chair already,” the aurochwoman protested, embarrassed.
“Perhaps the tower thinks otherwise,” Ben ventured.
They waited as the golden light carved a new name into the top of the chair. When the light went out, Ben stooped to read the name.
“Sybil, it looks like you are our new Mistress of Victuals.”
“But, my lord, this is too great an honor for a lowly monsterkin woman like myself.” She shook her head, but Ben could see a slight grin curling on her face. “I cannot accept this.”
Ben placed a hand on her shoulder. “It was not a request. The tower has chosen you. I trust its judgement. Are you willing to serve as my Mistress of Victuals?”
Sybil stammered. “I, uh, I, yes, my lord. If you are willing to have me, I will serve to the best of my ability.”
“I trust that you will,” Ben said. “Sir Gallant, what does the Mistress of Victuals do?”
“She oversees victuals, my lord. The preparation of food and the storing of supplies.”
Sybil’s soft wide eyes lit up. “That actually sounds like the perfect task for me. I am experienced in tending to those needs for my kin.”
“Congratulations, then,” Ben said. “And welcome.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Sybil said. “I am honored.”
“Well then,” Melody interrupted. “Shall we take our seats and bring this council to order?” Melody went to a sideboard to the left of the table and found a quill and some writing paper as well, no doubt intended for use at these meetings.
Ben was pleased at how well Melody could direct the others. That was a burden he didn’t have to deal with. He would be leading an empire, after all – any delegation would help.
The others promptly sat at their stone chairs. Sybil had to carry Sir Gallant the Younger back around to the chair of the chief torturer.
“My chair is, ahem, a little low,” Sir Gallant the Younger complained. “Can you adjust them, sire?”
The top of his head was level with the table. Lulu sniggered.
But then there was a groaning sound, and the chair shrank and grew narrower and taller. The seat of the chair rose up from the floor until it was almost level with the table top. Ben was certain he hadn’t done anything—but then again, if the remnants of his mind controlled the tower, perhaps he had unconsciously.
“Much better,” Sir Gallant exclaimed with satisfaction.
“I wonder if I could control that and lower the chair again?” Ben said. “Then I could lower you beneath the table if we all got annoyed at your contributions.”
“That would be an excellent modification,” Melody agreed. “I’ll see if we can design a control for the chair.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Sir Gallant assured them in a high-pitched voice. “A simple request for silence will suffice.”
“I doubt that very much,” Lulu said.
“We’ll see about that,” Ben said. He took his own seat at the head of the great round table.
His vision was almost filled with the pile of dust sitting on the table’s surface. “Perhaps we will need
to clean this mess away, I can hardly see Sir Gallant. Then again, maybe it’s best that way.”
The little statue harrumphed indignantly. Ben followed up his comment with a small smile, letting his torture master know he was only joking.
The dust began to shimmer.
Ben leaned forward and looked at the mound more closely. “It’s not dust,” he said. “That’s a pile of sand.”
“Why would you have a pile of sand on the table?” Sybil asked.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Ben answered. “But it’s glowing. I’ve never seen sand do that before. Let’s see what it does.”
The sand brightened in intensity, until it was shining like a ball of light. Every grain was twinkling. The light burst out like a wave, forcing everyone to cover their eyes. When they looked again, the sand was transformed.
“It’s like glass,” Melody said.
“Or crystal,” Ben said.
“That would be from the old map, my lord,” Sir Gallant the Younger said.
“A map?” Ben asked. “What are these grains of crystal for?”
Sir Gallant opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as the grains of crystal shifted. The formless pile of dust began to swirl. Columns were lifted into the air, made of the finest skeletons. The forms grew as more grains attached themselves.
The grains appeared to be moved by an unseen hand, though they could hear nothing, and feel no breeze. Large mounds rose up, and crevices sank down into the pile.
“It’s forming a three-dimensional map,” Ben murmured.
Mountains took shape, with valleys in between. Roads were carved into the surface. Buildings popped out, and forests carpeted everywhere in between. Above everything, five great towers loomed.
When the crystal had settled, as the last grain flew into place, the whole structure began to glow in warmer colors. The mountains glowed a dark blue, with white at the tops. The trees shone dark green, the rivers were blue and the roads brown. One of the towers was black, the others were the colors of energy, blue, red, green, and purple.
“It’s a map of what you can see from your Empire,” Melody said. “That’s why it only stretches to the southern desert.”
“I think that must be right, my lord,” Sir Gallant said. “The map only stretches across a quarter of the table.”