“Recent events?” Eric asked. “Do you mean the Mana Mutation Summit?”
“No,” Sagart replied. “The Chaotic Starlight.”
“Who could possibly benefit from...kon, paku, mana; so much gushing in at once. Is that what it is?”
Again, Sagart shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I know. All I can say is what he announced: ‘I’m seeking a perfect expression of chaotic enlightenment.’”
“I hope he’s not trying to copy me. That sounds like a lot of trouble.”
Abruptly, Sagart spun back to her main audience and asked, “What is the chaotic translation for ‘lots of trouble’?”
“Interesting times!” they said back.
“What is the fate of all who live?”
“To live in them.”
Over her shoulder, Sagart asked, “Does that answer your question, Trickster’s Choice?”
Eric groaned and face palmed. Picking a random direction, he marched its way and dragged Annala along with him. Sagart watched them and felt both happy and sad, for their lives would become much more interesting in the days to come.
Eric’s march took him past the teleportation booths of Ferdinand and Mildred, and the traveling school of Hana, Duo, and Set, as well as an elf fascinated by nutrition that Eric had never met. He finally stopped when Annala stumbled into him.
“Sorry...for...troubling you...M-Master...Eric.”
Her chest heaved. Her forehead glistened. Eric suddenly remembered that she didn’t have the same stamina that she used to. Without her Seed of Chaos, even a moderate walk could wear her out. He helped her to a bench and sat her down.
“Let’s take a break. I’ll get you a snack.”
“I’m...fine...—”
Eric put a finger to her lips.
“As a proper slave must obey her master; a proper master must ensure that his slave remains healthy. This is what they owe each other.”
Eric backpedaled to the nutrition nerd and bought a couple of meal bars from him along with a drink. Then he returned to Annala and, in the space of a few minutes, she had attracted a crowd. The attention made her shrink into herself.
“So this is the real deal...”
“She looks so fragile! How does she stay upright at all?”
“No wonder Sir Meza chose this as his workshop.”
Eric pushed his way through and gave Annala her refreshments. The elves watched her eat and drink with interest. None of them had taken the acts seriously before because none of them needed to do either. Eric gave them a brief explanation and sent them over to the nutrition nerd for more information.
“Now I’m curious about what Meza’s up to. Are you?”
“Whatever you wish, Master Eric.”
Hero of the Conversion War and leader of the Elven Preservation Society, Eric doubted there was an elf living who hated humans more than Meza did. At the moment, he was demonstrating to his audience how to subdue human ordercrafters. He mock slashed and palm struck one of his followers to show the techniques for both, how they differed, and why this mattered. While listening to him lecture, Eric noted that his opinion of humans had improved since the Mana Mutation Summit.
“When you go out among the humans, it’s vital that you watch out for sexual predators. The ugliest elf is more attractive than the standard human and so you will turn heads wherever you go. Also, human females can give birth every year and so human males are biologically hardwired for satisfying their carnal urges often; every day of the week and more. They’re like monsters in this regard. If you find yourself in such a situation, perform this maneuver.”
With a dagger in one hand, he motioned for his assistant to pin him, both on the floor of the platform and against a wall. In both situations, he “castrated” his assailant.
“This will serve the double purpose of defending yourself and preventing the human in question from creating more humans, thus defending your society. Even the humans themselves think poorly of those who commit such heinous acts, so you are unlikely to encounter legal trouble for doing so.”
His audience of both young and old applauded.
“As much as they deserve it, keep this as a last resort. Humans live such brief lives that they have to constantly reproduce or they’ll die out. We don’t want to drive them to the brink of extinction.” He winked. “Again.”
They laughed. Eric frowned.
“Surely you don’t believe all ordercrafters are evil.”
Meza stopped to address Eric.
“I don’t believe that. Most of them these days are guardians. They’re compelled to defend instead of attack. However, the politicians they work for are universally evil.”
“That’s a gross exaggeration. Only some of them are evil.”
Meza shrugged and turned his attention back to his audience.
“These temps may employ slander and false charges to brand you as a threat. This will be a response to their fear of you, or a desire to profit from you. Greedy little worms...Anyway, to combat them, you must demand that they tell you exactly which law you are breaking and how you are breaking it. If they cannot justify bothering you, then they will have to leave you alone.”
“Commander Meza,” one of the younger ones said, “where should we travel to?”
Meza held up his hand and generated a map of the Isaryu continent. He pointed to its western coast and the map zoomed in to reveal the country in detail.
“For your first time out, I recommend Ataidar. It is the safest place, comparatively speaking, because of its queen. Its ordercrafters swear loyalty only to the queen. Order is explicitly not their master. Also, it does not practice slavery at all. As long as you stay away from the southern border, you will not encounter anything that you cannot handle.”
His hand drifted south to Mithra and again the map displayed all its features from the holy tree Noiydrail to its towns and forests.
“The Zaban Monastery in Mithra is a beautiful place. It is devoted to Noitearc and populated with long-lived humans. You will fit in well there. When you arrive, you may hear it called Zahan Monastery because that is how certain local dialects pronounce it.”
His hand traveled west across the Latlis Sea to the continent on the other side of it. This part of the map featured many caves and dragons.
“Najica is okay for the intermediate as long as they are in groups. Only a veteran traveler should even consider going there alone. While it practices elven slavery, elves are not treated as laborers or sex slaves. Instead, they are more like living treasure.”
Some of the kids looked excited about this. He grabbed one of the most expressive by the shirt collar and hoisted her into the air.
“Did I say ‘royalty?” he bellowed. “No! I said ‘living treasure’! You will be strung up and gagged for a wall ornament! Does that sound like fun?!”
“No, sir! No, sir!”
He dropped her and she scurried to the back of the group.
“Dragons are devious and greedy creatures. Their long life is a function of their biology rather than divine blessing like ourselves, and this makes them appallingly arrogant. As skilled as humans may be at enslaving our people, they are better. They have sought to control us for far longer and do not need Order’s power to do so. Ever since Muags and Arin, we have been naught but more gold to hoard. We are a status symbol.”
He stomped the ground and made it shake. The vibration stole his audience’s balance.
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Before now, Eric thought that only humans could get him fired up like that. Annala stepped into his line of sight and said, “I will have the relevant stories in the guest room by tomorrow morning, Master Eric.”
“How did you know I wanted to learn more about dragon/elf relations in myth?”
“You are my master. Knowing what you want before you ask is my job.”
At the peak of the Sun’s journey through the sky, elves closed their lectures and t
ransformed their workshops. Again, Annala explained for her master’s benefit.
The Four Schools were the four subjects that Arin taught her children and earliest disciples. After they had grown up or graduated, they found their own path as was dictated by her and Lady Chaos. They found their own passions and their own subjects. Thus began the Infinite Schools of Elves.
Every elf possessed or sought an Eternal Hobby and, by virtue of their immortality, they became exceedingly skilled in this hobby. The latter half of the Festival of Arin’s Ascension was a time to show off this skill. It validated their worthy use of their long lives. Even those without a workshop or platform demonstrated “the Freedom of Chaos.” In other words, they did whatever they wanted.
With so many present, more hours passed and Eric didn’t notice. He was too busy playing mahjong with an elf named Sake Haramura. She traveled the world competing in tournaments, both individually and in a team. Today, she played teaching games with newbies like Eric. Annala and Kallen finished out the second pair of winds with the latter victorious.
“I don’t like this game of chance,” Annala said.
“You can diminish the chance with skill and intuition,” Kallen said.
“As these lovely ladies have exemplified,” Sake said to her audience, “mahjong is the perfect illustration of how we live with Grandmother Chaos. Our lives are at the mercy of chance events, but our training and experience empowers us to shape our lives nonetheless.”
Suddenly, Annala shrieked and jumped away from the table, shouting of chaotic contamination. She tripped over her chair and sprawled facedown on the ground. Kallen reached her before Eric did and checked her for bruises and cuts. Finding some, she healed them immediately. Annala kicked viciously and shouted, “Master Eric! Please save me!”
She scurried into Eric’s embrace and buried her head in his shirt. He patted her head while finishing Kallen’s work and checking on Kallen herself. Her head was down and her body was tense. She stood up, faced away from the pair, and ran off.
“Kallen Selios!” a voice shouted. “I can fill that need for you.”
“Go jump in the Sea of Chaos!” Kallen shouted back, voice cracking.
The speaker stood at a nearby stall. It reminded Eric of the ones he used to see at job fairs back on Threa. It was a poster board with sales figures, logos, and product information. Sitting before it was a table with brochures, pamphlets, and a sign-up sheet for employment opportunities. It was similar to Quando’s recruitment drive, but at the same time, it appeared too “professional”; too much like a job instead of a hobby.
Standing there was an elf in a stylish black suit and gaudy bow tie. His golden-brown hair was styled into three points and his pointed ears bore seven rings; four on the right and three on the left.
“Find a need and fill it!” this elf declared. “That’s the name of the game. These mortals have all kinds of needs, and they can be convinced that they have many more. This is especially the case with humans. They never seem to have enough stuff and they quickly forget all the stuff they have, until they need a storage solution, which is another need to fill. Working for Gunrai Enterprises can keep an elf busy until the local star burns out, which is—”
“Let me guess,” Eric said. “Another need to fill.”
“You must be The Trickster’s Second Choice.” The elf walked stately from his stall to Eric and extended his hand. “I’m Kaiba Gunrai, founder and CEO of Gunrai Enterprises.”
Eric shook his hand. His other remained on Annala’s head. “Eric Watley, Squad Three Novice for the Dragon’s Lair.”
“You work for Quando, then?”
“No. Quando is only my superior during war time.”
“Ah yes, mercenaries in peace time do all sort of things,” Gunrai said.” I take it you understand my philosophy of filling needs.”
“As the Mother Dragon said, ‘as long as people have needs and money, mercenaries will have bread and ale.’”
Gunrai nodded. “I remember her saying that at the Council of Lovengrad when Ataidar’s federal government tried to dismantle her guild.” Gunrai’s eyes glinted with both malice and mischief. “In that case, I created a need for her to fill in order to fill her own need, and in the process, filled something for myself.”
Eric gulped. “Are you telling me that you are the one responsible for the Two Fires War in 1000 AA?”
Gunrai slammed his hand on his leg. “Guilty as charged! And what a delightful thing it was too! After propping up both sides through shell companies during the war, I was the only game in town during the reconstruction. In the aftermath, the royal government recognized the necessity of your guild and vowed never again to try dismantling it. In fact...”
He pulled a stalk of celery the size of a walking cane out of nowhere and waved it in a circle. The leafy parts rustled at one point of the radius and he held the cane in that position. The tips of the leaves shimmered and generated an image of Tiza and Nolien enjoying the festival together.
“Why do you think Lord Heleti chose the Dragon’s Lair when he ran away? Why do you think Lord Culmus Stratos joined it when his holdings were overrun by Fog? Why do you think Her Majesty chose it as the place to train in physical and martial arts? Your guild has a special relationship with Ataidar’s nobles and a privileged position in their regime. It is all because I reminded them why your guild is necessary.”
He twirled his celery cane with one hand and then put it back where it came from.
“Do you think I’m evil?”
“I think you have a dangerous sort of Blue and Orange Morality,” Eric said.
“I think you’re evil!” Annala shouted.
It was so loud it caused a couple nearby to stop and check what was making such noise. Others made Arin’s Triangle to ward off her influence. Eric himself was simply surprised she shouted at all. This was the first time she sounded aggressive since Order brainwashed her.
“You are beyond a threat to the rule of law and undermine the basic stability of society! To provoke such a destructive civil war for nothing more than a client’s payment is despicable!”
Gunrai patted her on the cheek.
“Such a good little Order slave you are. You have taken morality and replaced it with legality, so you don’t have to make distinctions between black and white on your own.”
“Anathema!” she spat.
Gunrai placed his other hand on his chest. “Proudly so.”
“Master Eric, may I please kill him?”
“No.”
He grinned at the role reversal.
“I’m sorry, little slave, but the only need I cannot fill for you is your need to kill me. Perhaps there’s something else I can do for you, like resolving your love triangle?”
“Eric belongs to me and no one else!”
Her mouth snapped shut and her slave collar shimmered as it processed this latest thought and action. Her eyes clouded over and her conscious mind shut down.
“My master belongs to me in the sense that he is my only master,” she droned. “One cannot have two masters and so he belongs to me in the sense that my community and my personal history belong to me. Furthermore, he has no other slaves at the moment and so it is factually true that he ‘belongs’ to no one else. He is not attached to other slaves, but he could be if he chooses to do so.”
The slave collar’s overt function ceased and Annala blinked.
“I do not require your assistance with anything, Mr. Gunrai. My master provides me with everything I need.”
For just an instant, Eric sensed killing intent from Gunrai. It was so extreme that he involuntarily returned to his true form to better defend himself from it. Then it was gone. In the elf’s hand was not a weapon but a business card.
“If you change your mind, do give me a call. I have branch offices and stores in every city, town, and village in the world.”
Annala accepted the card but only out of politeness. When she crumpled it up and shoved it in her p
ocket, Eric thought he sensed another flash of killing intent. Then it was gone again and Gunrai was promoting his business to others.
As time passed, workshops closed and others took their place. The teachers and students rotated so everyone could experience everything. Sagart fell in with Eric and Annala for a spell and reminisced.
“It was this very time of year that I decided to become a chaos priestess,” she was saying, “and spread the Three Truths of Arin as far as I could.”
“What a coincidence,” a new voice said. “So did I.”
The mysterious elf from earlier strolled over to them with her wolf familiar following at her heels. Her hood still concealed her face. There was also a ring on her finger.
“I felt keenly the desire to learn as much as I could and deliver from slavery as many souls as I could.”
“Ah, Priestess, how good of you to visit.” Sagart embraced her.
“You mean her name really is ‘Priestess’?” Eric asked.
“Yes,” Sagart said. “It’s not uncommon to be known by one’s profession.”
“As the Bard of Avalon said, ‘a rose by any other name smells just as sweet.’ You can also call me ‘Cleric,’ or ‘Don’t Point That Bow At Me.’” Her hood turned in Annala’s direction. “I didn’t catch your name last time. What is it?”
The slave clutched her master’s arm for security. “An-Annala Enaz, La-lady Priestess.”
“What a lovely name.” She flicked her familiar’s head because she was snarling at Eric. “Which workshop did you set up?”
“I have none, Lady Priestess. I am simply accompanying Master Eric while he tours the festival, as was his wish.”
“So then, you are practicing the Freedom of Chaos.”
Annala shook her head. “No, Lady Priestess. I am a slave. Therefore, I have no freedom.”
Priestess tilted her hooded head. “Does Eric give you orders?”
“No, Lady Priestess. His first order to me was to ignore his orders.”
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