by Ian Rodgers
He was also an imposing man, on par with King Tiberius for charisma, and a peerless swordsman. He was all but unmatched in the capitol, and the Adventurer’s Guild graded him as a lower grade S-rank warrior.
“Sir Blaine has trained as a Paladin, but chose to dedicate his life protecting the kingdom, and later, the royal family instead of being an adventurer or an elite in the Church,” Bishop Hanless revealed to rapturous applause. “Much of his Paladin magic remains and his connection to the god of war allows him to be a master of both offensive techniques as well as defensive ones.”
The commander of the royal guard entered from the side and took a stance in the center of the arena, striking an impressive figure. He wore the blue and gold uniform of the Dire Swords with a crimson cape fluttering serenely in the evening breeze. Chainmail sat beneath his tabard, small glints showing it off as he moved. Dark brown boots and gloves covered the feet and hands, and a leather belt and scabbard completed the ensemble.
As roughly a fourth of the entire city watched, Sir Blaine took a careful stance, slowly drawing his blade. The setting sun reflected off the ensorcelled steel, turning it blood red, which only enhanced the intimidating effect. Motes of blue light begin to gather at his feet, and lazily started to spiral around him. Then, he lifted up in the air, propelled by the magical energy coalescing upon him. His sword became wrapped in pulsing ropes of energy that glow a faint gold, and it left trails of golden after images in the blade’s wake. Sir Blaine proceeded to perform sword drills in midair, floating lazily about as if he’s just defied gravity and was totally unimpressed with his results. Which was what he was doing, technically. Furthermore, under my scrutiny, I noticed a trickle of magic pool behind and around his eyes. On the visible spectrum, this resulted in a glow that was almost lost amid the rest of his magic. Curious. I wondered what he was doing with that spell?
Though his movements were impressive, and his control over his weapon enviable, what I was truly intrigued by was the magic he was using.
My owner possessed curiosity as well and looked to her mother for an answer.
“Sir Blaine is using what we call Divine Magic,” Queen Amdora began, unable to say ‘no’ to her daughter’s pouting face. “Amongst the four types of magic, Divine Magic follows very odd rules. Occult Magic, sometimes also known as Arcane Magic, is the type used by Wizards, Sorcerers, mages in general, and people who studied spells and used their own magical power to produce spells. It is what I used when I studied at the Academy Divine Magic on the other hand involves praying to a deity and having them bestow a portion of their might upon you in the form of spells or unique abilities.”
“So all you need to do is pray? That’s it?” Liliana asked, and I leaned in a bit.
“Basically, yes. For Occult Magic, a spell can be cast over and over as long as you have the ingredients or magical power to do so. As such, Divine Magic has an advantage in that area, as you don’t need to know any magic or spells to use the gifts of a god. However once cast a certain number of times the knowledge of the Divine spell will be forgotten. You can no longer use that spell, unless you pray again to the god who gave it to you.”
“Amazing,” Liliana whispered, and I couldn’t help but nod.
Magic was so wide spread across Erafore that even a peasant could, and often did, use magic, be it in the form of enchantments, runes, or cantrips. All living things possessed souls, which produced mana, which was the raw fuel for magic, which when manipulated created spells. But not everyone could study and memorize spells, or gather the materials needed. Which was where the gods apparently came in, offering immediate access to spells in return for a few hours of prayer and obeying the laws of the deity.
That was why the talent show began to really interest me. After all, only the most devout practitioners could afford to waste spells when showing off like that. Thanks to their reckless spending I was getting insight into the nature of the previously unknown magic.
Where Petrus’ magic was drawn from within himself and fused with the magical energy beyond his body, thus creating an Occult-style spell, Sir Blaine and the rest of the so-called Clerics and Paladins had the magical power seemingly pop up out of nowhere. It leaked into reality from a place I could not comprehend or even analyze as the portals it came from appeared and vanished far too fast for me to get more than a quick glance.
But the attempt of trying to catch a glimpse of that mysterious realm kept me attentive at least. I did not know enough about fighting or the exploits of these people to be engrossed in the displays. It was their spells that I was observing. I really wanted to learn as much as I could about magic. After all, as an Ooze I am about 90% solidified magic. The more I knew and thus understood about that force of reality the better I could potentially manage my own existence.
Could I even use Divine magic anyways? Because I was born from magic itself, or rather the residue of it, I didn’t know if I had a soul. Was that what my owner’s ability did to me? Did she perhaps give me a soul, or allow a nascent one to be nurtured in the body of mine?
“What an amazing display of divine blessing! Able to maintain two Divine spells at once! Sir Blaine is truly worthy of his position as commander of the Dire Swords! We are all glad that his majesty King Tiberius is under his watch.” His routine completed, the armored knight returned to the ground as Bishop Hanless promoted his feats. Mentally, I applauded the man. He was incredibly talented, and seeing him use three spells simultaneously was a treat in and of itself! And the fact that no one seemed to be able to tell that a third spell had been used further cemented his skills in my mind.
He made his way back up to the stand where we were and he took a stance behind King Tiberius. He leaned his head down, ever so slightly, and started muttering so only the king could hear. Well, the king and myself. Unconsciously I leaned a bit over to listen in.
Again, I marveled at how sensitive my body was. Through the way the voices travel through the air, I could hear practically everything going on in the arena and audience at once. I couldn’t feel pain in the traditional sense, but focusing and comprehending each and every conversation was like trying to create, maintain, and use dozens of limbs at once, while also balancing a plate on each one. Doing so made my mind feel weak, and the energy that sustained me started to degrade faster. As such, I had to willfully ignore more than half of what went on around me at a time, lest my mind tear under the stress. Still, I thought I could allow one more talk to enter my consciousness. After all, this one seemed serious, given how stiffly Sir Blaine was holding himself, and the minute creasing of King Tiberius’ brow. Knowing about it could help my owner at some point.
“My king, it was as our informant said. At least two men under Count Darpel’s command were using magic in the crowd to analyze the contestants, myself included. And another one was further back, trying to dismantle some of the wards around your carriage. I fear we may have a potential coup in the making.”
If it was possible to go pale, I would have. Okay, what? What was that? Was there something happening in the backgrounds I was not aware of? I mean, I cannot be everywhere, but I do have some pride as a gossip-gatherer, and I have heard nothing about a revolt or rebellion!
Though the name ‘Darpel’ rang a bell. That was the family name of a count from a prosperous territory who married one of the king’s older sisters. It seems the man was bribing some of the staff for information on the castle and the people within. I returned my ‘ear’ to the pair nearby and listened in some more.
“Damn him and damn my sister! I let them live last time, but they get no second chances! Inform the Dire Swords to keep a sharp eye on the people we’ve confirmed as being on his payroll, and if need be find a way to eliminate them. I will not have another conflict like the last time my siblings tried to take my crown! I will not have my wife and children put into danger!” King Tiberius hissed, a seething fury bubbling in every syllable. An imperceptible nod was the only response from Sir Blaine and he took a step b
ack, making a complicated hand gesture to one of the closest Dire Swords. That man then nodded and wandered off to do something. Pass on the orders, I supposed. I slid my gaze up into the grinning face of my owner, and steeled my heart.
If anyone dared to harm my Liliana, they will see how dangerous a slime could be!
Chapter 11: Danger senses, awaken!
Well, yesterday was fun, but now our noses were back to the grindstone! I didn’t have a nose, obviously, but I could grow something that looked like one. In fact, I was now able to create fingers and toes on my bipedal body, or as Liliana calls it, my Gel Doll form. I’d gotten better at controlling that odd shape, and now I could walk without doing a shuffling hop every time I need to move. I still need some help with balance, but other than that I think I’d improved. I could perform the Leol Waltz without much problem and only a smidge of aid, and the Swan Step was so simple even my lack of coordination was easily remedied. And that’s good. These two dances were the most common for younger and unmarried nobles to do when on the dance floor, so if my owner wanted to show me off, I could follow her lead and dance without shaming her.
“Very good, very good! Princess Liliana, your grace and elegance is really shining through! Your footwork is light and steady, therefore I think the Swan Step is the best choice of dance for you.” Lady Bluemont mused, overlooking my owner and I’s practice. “I recommend focusing on your balance if you want to improve with the Leol Waltz, though for the limited time you’ve had so far, I must say I am proud and impressed by your growth.”
“Thank you, Rene,” Liliana replied with a curtsey. Her smile became strained as she accepted one of the tutor’s dried snacks, but she did her duty none the less. I burbled with appreciation as well, and took my own share of the tasty treats with much greater enthusiasm.
“Tomorrow, we’ll be doing something different. Instead of practicing our routines, a tailor will be here to take your measurements, my lady. We’ll be able to do live dress rehearsals once this is done. And he can find something for Jelly to wear as well. Though I do not know how well he works with garments for pets,” Rene informed, shooting me an appraising look as she finished speaking.
“Now then, I want you well rested for tomorrow. Picking out the right dress may seem easy, but it can be fraught with peril.” Liliana chuckled, clearly thinking it was just a joke. But not me. I could tell that Rene’s emotions were stable. She believed in what she was talking about. Huh. As a being that had never worn clothes before, the concept had always intrigued me. I wondered what I could even wear? My body was far too slippery and oddly shaped for most fabrics, so would anything even stay on me? What if it was absorbed into my body and dissolved, like the dirt and other things that ended up lying on my form? A question for another day I supposed.
“Thank you for the lessons, Rene,” Liliana said in farewell to her tutor, giving a slight bow before scooping me up. As I was bundled up into her arms, I reabsorbed my limbs back into myself, returning to my blobby orb shape. Despite all my training, that was still the form I am most comfortable with.
“Tonight is bath time! I must admit I am glad. Dancing is surprisingly strenuous. I’ve worked up a slight sweat.” My owner chattered a bit to me, and I listened politely as did Orleen.
An hour and a half later and Liliana was washed and scrubbed and ready for dinner. She carries me to the small dining room, where surprisingly, only her father was waiting. It was rare that the king was first to the table. As usual, Sir Blaine stood a few steps behind his liege, while a scribe looked over a collection of documents in his arms.
“How are you, my flower?” King Tiberius inquired, giving his daughter a bright smile.
“I am well, father,” Liliana replied, nodding respectfully. King Tiberius nodded as well, and he turns to the handful of papers sitting before him on the table.
“Rene is doing a good job then?”
“Oh yes! She is very good to me, and is very talented. I’ve learned a lot under her!”
“And does she still give out her ‘treats?’” the king asked, his voice steady, but with a haunted look in his eyes. Liliana’s own expression darkened a tad and her own eyes mirrored her father’s.
“Yes, father, she does.” Nothing more was said, but a companionable silence descended upon the room, parent and child sharing a moment of understanding through similar hardships.
“Dear, have you seen Karina? She had not been around for a few hours, and I’m concerned,” Queen Amdora asked as she entered the dining room a few minutes later, her gown billowing slightly as she entered. Her husband glanced up and nodded in confirmation.
“Yes, I have seen her. I sent her off on an errand.”
“Oh, I see. And when will she be back?” the Queen inquired, a hint of annoyance in her tone at her personal servant being ordered by someone else.
“Not long, I should think. Another day or so, I would imagine,” King Tiberius mused, sharing a covert look with Sir Blaine, who offers a minute nod. That byplay passed right by my owner’s notice, but not the queen’s. She too nodded mutely in acceptance, her annoyance now supplemented by worry.
I also felt a touch of concern. Karina Ashbell was a half-elf and was not just the queen’s personal maid but also her primary defender. A trained assassin sworn to serve and protect Queen Amdora, she was only ever away from the castle if she was needed for darker, bloodier matters. How did I know that? Being able to hear and sense practically everything around me helped a lot. Karina’s footsteps are much lighter than a normal maid’s, and her muscle tone was one born from rigorous training with weapons, not lifting loads of laundry or carrying and using cleaning tools. Plus, I once glimpsed her pin a cockroach to the wall with a fork with pinpoint accuracy from half a room away. She did not like bugs. At all. I kept that lesson close to my core.
“Well, be sure to let me know when she returns,” Queen Amdora informed her king and husband, who agreed. She then settled into her chair, and now it’s me, her, my owner, and the king, waiting for Prince Julius. It was not long before he entered, a dazzling smile on his face and grass and dirt stains all over his clothes.
“I see you’ve had some fun today outside,” King Tiberius chuckled, looking the disheveled appearance of his son. The queen was not as impressed. Her mouth was compressed into a thin line, and a disapproving glare nails her son. Julius shrank back slightly, his smile wavering.
“And how exactly did you get this messy?” Queen Amdora demanded.
“Um, well, I was practicing my swordplay, but a rabbit popped up, and I sorta… chased it around for a while?”
A heavy sigh escaped the queen’s lips before she sat back and restored her primness with a deep breath. “Next time you get so dirty, make sure to clean up before attending dinner, Julius dear.”
“Of course, mother.” The prince acquiesced meekly, before sitting down at the table. The exasperated look from the queen was now directed at Jean, his maid, who lowered her head in embarrassment.
“Please try and help my dear son maintain a degree of decorum, Miss Jean,” Queen Amdora politely but firmly instructed, with the maid bowing her head quickly in acknowledgement.
“Well, since we are all here, let’s begin dinner.” At the king’s suggestion, a nearby servant hurried off and almost immediately more staff bearing platters power walked in. As they set the table with delicacies and savories, Liliana removed a pair of small glass bottles from her pouch around her waist. I bounced slightly in place as I sense my owner pop the stopper from one of them.
My meals lately have consisted of vial after vial of healing potions. A dull red in color, held in tiny glass containers, these little alchemical wonders were absolutely delicious to me. They were only Minor-grade potions, but that was enough. A single Minor healing potions could almost instantly heal cuts and bruises, and could be applied directly to the wound for quicker results, or drunk to spread the effect to any and all cuts. Somewhat expensive though. That tiny bottle of fairly ordinary but
efficient medicine costs a whole silver coin! And for the common worker, with only a few dozen coppers earned per day, that was a luxury. Still, not terribly expensive for them, which was good, I supposed. I’d had Minor-grade potions so far, since even as a royal pet I am not exactly worth the gold coins for the highest quality stuff. But the magic in them (strawberry flavored) was good enough for me!
I reach out a pseudopod and slurpped down the contents of the offered potion through it. Liliana and Julius both giggled at that.
“Oh, you’re acting just like a baby, Jelly,” Liliana teased. Ignoring her comment I continued to drink unabashedly, and once I finish the first bottle, I gurgled and reached pitifully for the last potion. Laughing at my antics, the princess passes me the vial and I uncork it myself, holding the bottleneck close as I greedily drink the succulent juices.
As I had my meal, the royal family began theirs as well. Steam wafted through out the room, and it was only strict disciplines and iron wills that prevents the servants on standby from salivating and staring longingly at the feast before them. I extend some pity and sympathy for them. Really, forced to watch but unable to actually touch the food must be torture.
As I was pondering this, without warning, my core started to itch! I froze in my owner’s lap, bottle of potion mostly drained. My sudden stop did not go unnoticed. The guards went stiff, as did the more perceptive servants, and of course the king and queen. Only Julius and Liliana remained ignorant of the sudden shift in mood. I ignored everyone’s attention at me, and expand my senses as far as they would go, trying to find the source of the irritation. My core had never done that before, and I was worried as to what that means. The itch was also less of a physical sensation, and closer to how I assume shivers might run down the spine of a person.