RE: Monarch

Ralakos.

It’s not that I trusted him completely. I’m not convinced that I was capable of complete trust towards anyone but Maya, even then. But some part of it seemed absurd. It reminded me of an off-comment Cephur made, during our trek through the Everwood:

“You run into an asshole one day, you ran into an asshole. But if you run into an asshole every day? You’re the asshole.”

Barion was a hermit with delusions of grandeur. Ralakos was a wealthy, well-respected council member and an arch-magician. But I had to admit, there were similarities between him and Ralakos. Both were egocentric, intelligent, and kind at first glance. They’d both gone out of their way to help me.

What were the chances, then, that both were secretly working against me?

The likelihood of that seemed low. Exceptionally low.

Still. Perhaps, subconsciously, some part of me had recognized the similarities. Maybe that was why I never quite warmed up to Ralakos, despite how he’d gone out of his way to welcome me, and help with my preparations for the Sanctum.

I remembered, vividly, the way he had lied at my hearing—acting outraged to the fact that I’d been held in one of Guemon’s Magus cells, as if it was the first he’d heard of it. The lie had been exceptional. So exceptional, that I’d asked Nethtari about it afterwards, only to learn that yes, he had known.

That alone meant little. But what it did mean is that if he was working against me, I was unlikely to realize it. But it still felt wrong. Barion only had to play his part for a week. Ralakos had been playing it for the better part of a year. It didn’t matter how good of an actor you were, eventually, something real would slip through. And I hadn’t felt a hint of malevolence from Ralakos.

And he’d told me about his son. It was one thing to use your dead child as a koss piece, once. I knew a thing or two about parents who used their children as pawns. It was another entirely to do so repeatedly.

You will have no friends in the enclave. Maya’s voice echoed in my head.

I needed to take myself out of the equation. What would happen between the councillors if I wasn’t here? Who would end up with the illusory scepter?

I thought on that for a long time. Ephira, surprisingly, did not interrupt me. In her line of work, of course she’d understand when to stop selling.

Finally, I came to a definitive point.

I was running out of days before the asmodials attacked the enclave. It was time to fully accept that this was likely not something I could solve in one attempt. I’d been forcing myself to think that way for far too long, using the resets as an excuse to take more risks, but not going so far as to consider discarding a reset entirely.

I told Ephira part my plan, under the guise of strengthening our partnership by assisting her in acquiring the scepter. The artifact really was the key to all this. It didn’t matter who bought it, what mattered was who acquired after the fact, and used it to create my copy. After some quibbling over the details, she agreed, looking more than a little pleased at the outcome of our meeting.

I took one more look down into the battle-torn depths of the sanctum, and said a quick prayer that my fate would end up better than theirs.

----

There was an ever-growing list of things I needed to do and not nearly enough time to do all of them. Ephira had set the meeting with Mifral four days from our lunch, roughly a week from the day of the attack.

It was my job to leak the details of the meeting to Ralakos and Persephone. The former would be easy. Just a side comment made during one of our meetings. The latter was much more difficult. After much deliberation, I finally decided to operate as if I hadn’t screwed her at all, leaving the sapphire out of it entirely.

It turned out, Persephone either didn’t realize we’d gotten the wrong one, or didn’t care. The entire point of the exercise was to stir up Mifral and she’d gotten that in gold. The sapphire itself was just a bonus. I manufactured a story about being scooped up by Ephira’s guards and questioned on the topic of the scepter, shaking Persephone down for “information I’d overheard” from her guards.

Overnight, between Persephone and Ephira, I went from having to pinch silver slivers together to afford ingredients for potions and alchemical tinctures, to having more gold than I knew what to do with.

I replenished the stock I’d all but exhausted in Mifral’s estate. After I was satisfied with my supplies, I set about spending my money in other, more creative ways.

First, I visited an inscriber. The idea of inscription magic had been nibbling at me ever since Maya had explained what it was, despite its drawbacks. I intended to have a few spells inscribed on my body, but discovered it was too late. Self-inscription was painful and would take nearly two weeks to heal, but more problematic, it would weaken me significantly until my body accepted the runes.

So, I settled for regular old inscription magic. It required me to halve what I had just earned, but I ended up buying two scrolls: one would serve as an emergency healing spell, but the other I was most excited about. A teleportation scroll. It cost more than a house, but it was worth it. No more getting cornered and torn to pieces. If things went bad, I could get out fast.

I almost mindlessly set the recall location to Maya’s home, but quickly realized the folly of that. It would be as foolish as a prisoner escaping a jail only to visit home before fleeing across the ocean. Instead, I set the recall point to a remote rooftop on the residential side of town, and stashed a few of my healing salves and alchemical agents should I need them.

It didn’t take much to convince Kilvius and Nethtari to take a brief vacation. I was about to disturb the den of an unknown animal, and while they were certainly brave, they were not suicidal. All I really had to do was mention the fact that Ralakos’s alliance was uncertain, and that alone was enough to send the color fleeing from Nethtari’s face.

Kilvius asked me quite a few questions around my meeting with Ephira, and it was clear he had a personal grudge against the woman, though I couldn’t pry the reason from him. I gave them a sizable portion of my remaining gold. More than enough to charter a wagon with an armed escort and pay for food for a few weeks.

Jorra begged to stay behind. I was relieved when Nethtari jumped in, preventing me from having to play the role of the villain.

I really didn’t want to have to tell Jorra to shove off. He acted immature sometimes, but that was to be expected considering his age. Beyond being a sparring partner and eventual companion within the sanctum, Jorra had shown his mettle.

He tried to argue reasons he should stay. Then Nethtari made a slanted comment about there being plenty of time for reckless house robberies later, to which I started coughing and Jorra flushed purple.

I hugged Kilvius and Nethtari goodbye, and Nethtari brought over Agarin. My stomach twisted at the sight of him. But I couldn’t help myself. I held out a finger and he grasped it with both hands, cooing happily. I felt guilty. I’d been avoiding Agarin ever since the end of the last reset, even ignoring his cries the few times I’d been lying awake in bed, and he woke in the middle of the night.

Out of everything I’d seen, it was still the image of him that bothered me most. But none of that was his fault.

They left in the middle of the night, leaving me alone in in the house with only my thoughts and memories for company

----

When Ephira’s carriage picked me up for the meeting, she was actually in it. All smiles and pleasantries now that we were on the same side, she gave me a gift: a mask. The quality was much higher and it had been freshly painted, but it was close enough to my previous face-wear to be its double. We had talked briefly about this and decided it was best if I came in disguise, not because I necessarily needed to hide my identity, but because it would likely play to our strengths should the meeting play out as we hoped.

“You know, I could get used to this.” Ephira considered me thoughtfully. “Having a prince at my beck and call.”

“I’m hardly at your beck and call. Our—“

“Interests align, yes, I know. Still, sometimes it’s fun to pretend.” Ephira said. The meeting was taking place outside an abandoned mining quarry, which was, coincidentally, the only information I’d leaked to Ralakos and Persephone. They’d have to do quite a bit of research and work on their own to narrow down which one.

“How do you want to play this?” I asked. “Blade, or hammer?”

Ephira’s eyes were hard. “The time for subtlety is over. It is time for me to get what I am due.”

“Hammer it is, then.” I said.

We exited the carriage and navigated the winding upward path towards the mine. I caught glimpses of Ephira’s guards hiding behind dilapidated equipment and piles of detritus wearing unmarked armor. Persephone had been a thorn in Ephira’s side for too long, and now it was time to collect.

Goosebumps formed on my arm as I looked at the men hiding in wait. I told myself that the unmarked armor didn’t mean anything. It made sense to use unbranded men for a situation like this, but it still felt far too reminiscent of the ambush within the twilight chambers.

It doesn’t matter whose side you’re on. You’re here to shake the tree and see what falls out.

There was the faint sound of arguing up ahead, emitting from an old building that looked like defunct mess hall. It had two guards in rose-colored tabards posted outside the doors, quietly facing outward as several less disciplined men in mercenary grays paced, before them, their eyes sharp. The tension was palpable, before we even entered the scene. Then it somehow ratcheted up even higher. The three groups of guards faced off. Ephira stepped forward.

“I have a meeting with Madame Derdre.”

One of the guards in pink looked at the other, disquiet clear in his expression. “She’s a bit busy at the moment, Councillor.”

“High Councillor. And what is your name?” Ephira asked sweetly. I’d been on the other side of that particular tone not long ago, and did not envy the guard whatsoever.

“Higat, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Higat, let me explain to you how this is going to go.” Ephira stepped forward and her men stayed behind, rather than escalating the situation. “You’re just doing your job. I get it. But my time is precious. I’m not going to threaten you. But what I am going to do is leave. Just that. Leave. And whatever plans your master intended to make with me will be null and forfeit. It is not my place to predict how blame will be assigned, but…” Ephira let the silence hang. The guards once more exchanged a meaningful look, this time laden with exhaustion, then stepped aside.

“Just you.” The guard clarified.

“And my companion.” Ephira held out a hand towards me.

“Fine.” The guard rolled his eyes. “Just the two of you, then.”

We walked through the double doors of the run down mess. Rubble was strewn across the dust-laden ground, and dim light poked specular beams through holes in the roof. Considering the garish, gaudy nature of her estate, the break-in and theft must have shaken Mifral up quite seriously to cause her to stoop so low.

The voices arguing grew louder as we delved deeper and passed a few other guards, who gave tired looks but did not attempt to stop us.

“Just give me the scepter. The bid is already outrageous, there’s no way it’s even worth close to what I’m willing to pay.”

“After everything I’ve been through in the last week? You can kiss my ass. It doesn’t matter how much you throw your weight around. I’m this close to calling off the auction all together and keeping it for myself. You can all go back to hades for all I care.”

I stepped through the door to find Persephone grabbing Mifral by the collar. She towered over the plump woman and looked ready to throttle her.

Mifral saw me and pointed. “You!”

Persephone’s mouth turned downward. “‘You,’ indeed.”

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