by Zac Atie
“I’ve told you before, Corlin Sylvarin.” Abaddon said. “You shouldn’t bother trying the Coronation. This is why.”
“Who, in the name of the dragons, is this boy?” Corlin said. He was obviously spoiled.
“This...” Abaddon began. “This is Sancterus’ blood, Zaxxarius Elric, and he is the true heir of Metholi.” Corlin’s eyes widened. “Wh... What?” He croaked.
“Erm, nice to meet you.” Zaxxarius said, awkwardly.
“This is the recent son of House Sylvarin, Metholi’s second most powerful house, next to the Elrics, of course.” Abaddon said. “And he’ll be leaving now.” A man behind Corlin stood up, and Abaddon was taken aback. He looked like an adult Cazrian, which must be around 1000 years old. Above his right eye was a silver insignia, instead of gold, and it was of broken shackles. “Crisom? What are you doing here?” Abaddon asked. Crisom moved up next to Corlin, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry, Corlin, my boy. You’ll get your chance at fame and glory.” He said. Corlin was still stunned, and almost looked as if he wanted to cry. “Now, now. Abaddon. Is it true what you said? This boy is related to Sancterus?”
“Yes.” Abaddon said, sighing. “It’s his son, Lord Ridley.”
“Oh, no need for the Lord. I am but a cousin of the Overlord, mind you. Nobody important.” Crisom said.
“The Overlord?” Zaxxarius asked, confused.
“The Overlord of Kirall. He belongs to the House of Ridley, and this is his Cousin.” Abaddon said.
“So why’d you approach us?” Vander asked.
“Well, I just wanted to inform our young Overlord-to-be about the pact that Sancterus made with my Cousin.” Crisom said. “I don’t want to pry, and be pushy about it, but Sancterus gave his word.”
“What pact?” Zaxxarius asked.
“During the Metholian Civil War, we obtained help from Kirall, an island to the east. Invaluable help, they and the Magi were both major hands in our Victory, along with the Domini... but that’s a story for another time. Sancterus set Kirall free from the grasp of their Rivals, The Isle of Pontaron to the north, very easily, so they could build airships for us. That action gave us ties to the Kingdom, but such ties have been made in the past, and have been tarnished and used for betrayal...” Abaddon said.
“What’s your point?” Zaxxarius asked.
“His point is that the Overlord of Kirall made an agreement with Sancterus. His first son would make the ties with Kirall stronger, almost unbreakable.” Crisom said.
“How?” Zaxxarius asked.
“By making those ties blood ties.” Abaddon said. Zaxxarius bit his lip.
“Oh.” He murmured, blushing slightly.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Vander said, earning a strange look from Crisom. “The Agreement was made before you could even have a say in the matter, and you are the highest authority now. Don't let them force you into shit.”
“We weren’t trying to.” Crisom said. “I just want you to know, that the offer is there. Kirall and Metholi could become siblings by blood, and Kirall is willing. It’s up to you.”
“We must be going now.” Abaddon said, bowing his head. He turns and leaves, and Zaxxarius and Vander follow.
They open the large doors and enter the Council Chamber. The councilmen were talking quietly prior to their arrival, but Zaxxarius can see that the second he opened the door they all turned simultaneously, with great expectation. They looked stumped when their eyes fixed on the two humans. Abaddon walked forward with them until they got into the middle of the stage. The table the Councilmen were sitting at was semi-circle shaped, and all four was facing the door. In front of the table was the stage where Abaddon, Vander and Zaxxarius were standing. There were no other seats in the room, so they had to stand. Tyria sat there, with her usual, calm and warm smile at the very left of the table. All the way on the right, another woman sat. This woman was elegant, but looked like she was too used to frowning. It was very easy to miss her beauty because of that. She had a dangling jewel for an earring on one ear, and her light red hair was covering the other. This was that aggressive woman that Abaddon spoke of. Most nobles wore robes, and all the council members wore blue robes with red trimming, but the woman wore a hooded top, and a long skirt, with her belly showing. There was also a fat Cazrian one seat to the left of her, looking confused. He had many rings on his fingers, rings that looked as if they were put there when his fingers were slimmer and were too small for them to come off. He had black hair, which seemed to be the default hair for Cazrian’s, and a goatee. The beard went down to the bottom of his neck, and was held together by a bangle of gold. He had spots on his face, but very clean teeth. He seemed odd. The man to the left of him was an old man, balding, with white hair. He had a long beard and very sleepy eyes. But he seemed very active for his age, and didn’t seem fragile neither. “What’s that?” The fat Cazrian asked. “Is this some kind of Jest?”
“It’s a human...” The woman said. “Why have you brought us humans, Abaddon? What is this farce?”
“Oh, no no, I see now.” The old man said, looking at Tyria. “ I see. Interesting indeed.”
“What’s going on, Abaddon?” The fat Cazrian asked.
“This, Councillor Sacrum.” He said, pushing Zaxxarius forward. “This is him.” Sacrum’s jaw dropped. The old man just smiled warmly, and the woman’s eyebrows raised. “Wh...Wh...What?!?” Sacrum roared, standing up, his Bangle jiggling around from his chin like it was a Yo-yo. “This is the child!?”
“Calm down, Sacrum, my good lad. Calm down, I say.” The old councillor chuckles.
“Siddown, fat man.” The woman huffed. Sacrum sat down, huffing.
“Oh Horizon. Have mercy. Oh, divine dragons.“ Sacrum huffs, clutching his heart.
“E...Erm.” Zaxxarius stutters. “Is something wrong?”
“Sacrum’s just a fool is all.” The woman says, smiling slightly.
“Why are you smiling, Laer?” Sacrum asks. “Is it because he’s young?” Laer reverted to a scowl.
“Like Jiffs, Sacrum? Perhaps you’d like one down your throat, with the rest of the Bile you eat?” Laer threatened, holding a fruit-like object. It looked like a hairy, pink orange. Zaxxarius cringed at the thought of eating one, with it’s hair tickling the sides of your mouth and your tongue, making it all itchy. “Seriously?” Sacrum asked Abaddon. “You can’t! You just can’t have a human as Overlord! It would be worse than the Metholian Civil War!”
“Hey!” Vander said. “He’s an Elric! He’s the last of his line, son of Sancterus himself. Nobody but him can ascend to Overlord. It’s him, or nobody.”
“He’s a Bastard!” Sacrum said angrily. “An alien Bastard at that!”
“Mmm...” Laer mumbled. “Lots of repopulation within your family to do... hmm?”
“Aheheh. It seems you have an admirer, my young lad!” The old man said.
“I hate you three.” Laer grumbled, sitting back and biting into the Jiff.
“This one is an Elric, Sacrum.” Tyria said. “You’re a traditionalist, so the only one who cares is you. It won’t matter to the rest of Metholi.”
“I don’t like it.” Sacrum huffed.
“Too bad.” Laer yawned.
“Pali, opinion?” Sacrum asked.
“No.” Pali, the old man, said.” No, no. No, I think this is just fine. I'm happy there’s a living Elric, though, you must get to work with the babies early.” He giggled.
“Don't worry, he’s at his time to reproduce healthy children.” Vander laughed. “Human boys his age are into that stuff. Not like Cazrians, who only care around the age of 700-900.”
“Gee, I dunno.” Zaxxarius huffed, his juvenile side kicking in. “Children? This is all rushed and sudden, honestly.”
“Perhaps we should talk, later?” Laer asked, boldly. “We can talk about that empty seat next to you. No doubt Abaddon has already bitched and whined about me.” Abaddon huffed.
“Err... Sure.” Zax
xarius said, half-joking. Laer’s face lit up.
“Oh my.” Tyria chuckled.
“If I were you, I’d get about 20 hot concubines and fill ‘em up.” Vander laughed.
“You’re disgusting, Vander.” Zaxxarius said, stifling a laugh.
“Alright, seriously.” Tyria said. “This is the situation we’re in. Metholi has been weakened without an Overlord, and after the DomiCazrian war, the Military was halved in size. With the return of an Overlord, people will likely be signing up for a place in the military. Our military is strongest because we let anyone is able to wield a weapon in, and train them till they bleed, doesn’t matter if they are Cazrian or not. The Draconic Testament preach that discrimination is a dire and immoral offense, and we abide by their laws to the letter. After that, we’ll need to get things straight with Zolka. Zolka hates us after the two wars we’ve had on their territory, and they’re very weak right now, but they are rich in Zaranyte, what’s used on weapons, armour, and war vehicles. We’ll need to settle ties with them.”
“There’s also laws that need reviewing.” Sacrum says.
“Problems with the wilderness to the south, which borders us with Cradle.” Pali says.
“I think we’re all forgetting we need Zaxxarius’ story. We know he’s the son of Katrina and Sancterus, but he’s here early, is he not?” Laer says.
“Yes, go ahead.” Sacrum says. Abaddon walks up.
“I’ll tell you what happened.” Abaddon said. He told the story, leaving Veronica and Illuminos out.
“Quite a tale... Good job, Paladin.” Laer said, mockingly.
“It wasn’t my fault, Abaddon left my reasons out on purpose.” Vander huffed.
“Dante seemed to know a lot.” Zaxxarius said. “Plus, he didn’t kill me, and spared my life when it got hundreds of his men killed.”
“To the Null and void with Dante and his ilk.” Laer said.
“And Earth.” Sacrum said. “Not our problem.” Zaxxarius felt bitter for those remarks.
“That’s not fair. I grew up there.” Zaxxarius said.
“But it was not your home.” Pali said. “No matter how hard you tried, you’d never be human. It would show, eventually. If we get everything sorted out here, then perhaps we can choose earth as our next target to join the Crusade.”
“That would be insanely controversial.” Abaddon said.
“It’s his call.” Laer said.
“No.” Zaxxarius said. “Not earth. I know it may seem odd, but the Magi want nothing more to do with Cazria. They just want you to repay what you did for them by helping the humans, with technology and medicines.” The council paused for a second.
“That would be rather easy...” Pali said. “Oh, im sure a Evolution pack would be useless to them now, since they’ve evolved far, but oh, I do think we could help out their health problems fabulously.”
“I’d rather focus on bigger issues.” Laer said.
“Like what?” Zaxxarius asked.
“Zolka.” She said.
“You’re bothered about the war, too?” Zaxxarius asked.
“Of course. Both of our enemies, fighting each other, weakened. I say, close the Dominion portal, and take Zolka for ourselves.” Laer said. Zaxxarius thought about that.
“It’s not ALL the Domini’s fault, is it?” Zaxxarius said. “There are some here, trying to live out their lives normally.”
“And the ones stuck on the shithole planet of Dominion are the rapists and killers that are attacking Zolka as we speak.” Laer said. “Though, I’m happy they are. Zolka had it coming.”
“That’s awful.” Tyria said. “We have had bad blood with Zolka, but they do not deserve such treatment.”
“That would be dishonourable, taking their land.” Sacrum said. “Arcana were not made for spilling Cazrian blood.” They all paused on that word.
“Ah... Arcanas.” Abaddon said.
“I can’t use one?” Zaxxarius asked.
“Well... You ARE an overlord. It’s just that, usually when Halflings pick up an Arcana, some radical patriots or zealots get sort of angry. It’s usually just too intimidating for them.” Laer said.
“I don’t care what people think of me.” Zaxxarius said.
“Oh, I do like this boy.” Laer giggled.
“The council will be your advisors.” Abaddon said. “They specialise in different areas. Laer for war tactics, Sacrum for economy, Tyria for foreign relations with Cazrians, and Pali for alien relations.”
“At your service.” Tyria said, smiling.
“Oh, it will be fun to work with you.” Pali said.
“Yes... Yes, indeed.” Sacrum grumbled.
“It will be VERY fun to be in your presence.” Laer giggled.
“Now, we’re going to go to the Coronation Monolith.” Abaddon said.
“I’ll accompany you.” Tyria said.
“So shall I.” Laer said, standing up.
“I don’t think...” Tyria began, but Laer had already made her way around the table, and placed her arm around Zaxxarius. “You don’t mind, do you?” Laer whispered.
“Erm... no...” Zaxxarius said, a little flushed. Tyria sighed.
“Let’s go then.” Abaddon said.
“Looks like it’s going to be the opposite here as to what it was on earth.” Vander said. “Zaxxarius will get all the chicks, and I’ll be the one in the corner, reading books...”
Chapter Fifteen – Coronation
Zaxxarius Elric
The five were on the roof of the Tower of Xelphan, up in the sky. The battleships could be seen clearly from here. They were huge, and intimidating, and they boasted all sort of guns and armour. It looks like they were guarding both the monolith and the Council members. Also, the whole of trinity could be seen from up here. Blocks and blocks of houses and buildings, as far as the eye can see, all in some sort of massive pattern. Lights lit up in the distance, and he could see the grasslands start with an incredible waterfall. The Monolith was huge, about three times as big as Zaxxarius, with ancient writing in Cazrian on the monolith’s sides. It looked as if it meant something, but Zaxxarius could not read Cazrian. Something he’s going to have to learn in the near future. “What’s the writing about?” Zaxxarius asked.
“It’s passages from the Draconic Testament.” Tyria said. “In the name of Horizon, Dusk, and Dawn, thee who looketh unto the Monolith shall see naught but sorrow, pride, pain and power. We bequeath the magic of the Overlord to thou who protects thy brethren, leader of the followers of your House and the Draconic Testament. Breathe the furious fires and magic unto your foes, and bask in the undying power of the Dragons.”
“A bunch of nonsense, since the undying power of the dragons did not save them from the Domini.” Laer huffed. “I have told you to watch your words.” Tyria hissed, angrily. “Wrath will await you in your near future if your words are not well thought.” Tyria looked at her with furious eyes, but Laer just chuckled and waved away her threats, not in the least bothered. “As you say, old woman. I quiver just thinking about It.”
“The Monolith doesn’t say anything about granting you memories of the past Overlords because Ultimali had altered the Monolith after the Holy Book was written.” Abaddon said.
“Prince Zaxxarius.” Abaddon said. “The Monolith awaits you. In the Monolith, you will actually meet the souls of the Overlords trapped there. There are 5 successful Overlords in total. Xelphan, Duty, Xita, Voltrin, and Sancterus. You’ll need the votes of the majority of them, 3 out of 5, to become Overlord. Do not act, be yourself.”
“When you place your hand on the Monolith, you will enter the auras of all the Overlords stored inside. You will talk to them. All of them.” Vander said. “They cannot harm you, and you cannot harm them. It’s just a communication between souls. You’ll learn things they learned along the way.”
“What do you mean?” Zaxxarius asked. “It doesn’t just grant me power?”
“It boosts your learning efficiency in the for
m of memories.” Abaddon said. “They are not exactly memories, per say. They are just... forms of recollection. When you’re fighting, you’ll usually fight with some of the skills of your ancestors, just automatically. This won’t make you as good as Xelphan with an Arcana, it would just allow you to adapt and learn faster.”
“I don’t understand.” Zaxxarius says.
“Neither do I.” Abaddon said. “Each Overlord has given a riddle as to how the Coronation affects you. That was Voltrin’s version, as Sancterus didn’t really give one. From what I saw, it didn’t seem to bother or impede on Sancterus’ progress.”
“You can ask him when you’re in there, though, you’ll probably speak to him second-to-last. You speak to the Overlords in order of their power.” Laer said.
“Don't judge them based on their skill in combat and Magic, though.” Tyria says. “Leading through brute force, like Laer likes to, is not the only way to value strength.” Laer huffed.
“We’ll keep you safe, as will the battleships up there.” Vander says.
“Not that anyone could possibly have the required level of stupidity to attack us.” Laer huffed.
“You never know.” Vander says.
“Whenever you’re ready.” Abaddon says to Zaxxarius.
“Yeah, I’ll do it now. I’ll be fine.” Zaxxarius says. He approaches the Monolith. As he got closer, faint Auras appeared from within the Aura. They were faint, but they were unlike any other Aura that he had seen so far. The Auras still, and fragile. Almost like they were at peace. The Monolith welcomed his hand as he touched the surface. “Infuse your Magic into it, Prince Zaxxarius.” Tyria said. Zaxxarius let his Magic flow into the Monolith, and the Monolith hummed in his ears. The Magic flowed up the monolith, and inside every orifice on it’s surface. Then, he felt as if he was going unconscious, but he knew where he was going. Slowly, he entered a new world.
He fell into an Abyss of fire and calm anger. He falls, and then crashes into sand. He looks around, feeling as if he knows this place from somewhere. He had never been there, but he had seen it and heard about it... Rubble, sunken buildings, a single, flaming temple, burnt bodies, distant screams of the damned. Then, he looks around at the high walls of the area. Just barely past the wall is a whirlwind of fire, circling the walls in a perfect circle. Sometimes, he could make out a face of anger and fury inside it, yelling at him, or, perhaps screaming in pain? He didn’t like this place. It was as if he had been dropped into a circle of hell. “Is this place not to your expectation?” A voice says. “Do you not like it?”