The Newt and Demon

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5.69 - Hardly a King

If Fenian had fought the entity over Broken Tusk, there would have been nothing left. Theo had mostly recovered from the ordeal, and was helping Ziz work on the bridge. If Tresk hadn’t sent the creature flying into the distance, keeping it away from both Qavell and Broken Tusk, the alchemist’s story might have ended there.

Qavell had fallen within a thousand feet of the harbor. It now tilted to one side in the surf, surrounded by the crumbling mountain and swirling ocean. Whatever dark core magic had sent the city flying had faded, leaving behind dark stains on the exposed foundation. Even from the incomplete bridge, Theo could see people on the walls. They waved down, shouting things that were too distant to hear.

Tresk and Alex had flown over, using their inventory to distribute supplies. She updated the administration interface for once, keeping Alise appraised of the situation. The Qavelli people had been without food for some time. Despite outward appearances, this plan wasn’t thought out well enough. The kingdom relied on farms that sprawled outside the walls of their city, resulting in an immediate shortage when the undead were a problem. Her people now starved, finding relief in the Southlands Alliance. A group they once thought of as their enemies.

“Ya dropped it further than I expected,” Ziz said, scratching his head. He withdrew another section of bridge from his inventory, setting it into place with the one before. Next he would need to drive more pylons, which once again relied on this inventory power. “Gonna be harder to reach them.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Theo asked, sighing. Saving the people of Qavell was hard enough. Now what?

“Oh, who cares? We’ll figure it out,” Ziz said. “We always do!”

At least the administrators were on top of things. Once Alise could get to the city, she would start negotiations. King Hanan was at their mercy, and the Southlands Alliance intended to provide that mercy. The options on the table were fair. The king could join the alliance, or accept a position as a vassal state. Both provided some measure of independence and would include the washing away of Karasan’s sins. Early reports revealed Hanan was in the dark concerning his father’s plans.

Dusk faded into night, but no one stopped working. Greater Stamina Potions were passed around, fueling the work. Citizens set artifice lamps along the bridge, lighting the way as Ziz and his ever-expanding gang of workers set piece after piece of the bridge. At midnight the ramp was completed, providing access to the city proper. With a tired mind, Theo stepped foot into the ruined city with his administrative retinue.

Alise, Gwyn, Gael, and Theo stepped through a gate, gazing upon the crumbled buildings and smoke rising in the distance. A man, part-elven by Theo’s estimation, approached with a spear in hand. He had long brown hair that looked as though he hadn’t cared for it in weeks. His clothes were plain, and tattered.

“Are you the one we have to thank for this?” the man asked, looking up at Theo with a forced smile. There was pain behind that smile. Not the pain of a man who had been beaten down himself, but one that had watched his people suffer.

“Archduke Theo Spencer,” Theo said, nodding to his companions. “Gaeleithia Wavecrest, Alise Plumm, and Gwynestarea Whisperstream. I see you’re not dead, King Hanan.”

“Hardly a king,” Hanan grumbled, kicking a stone like a frustrated child.

“We’re uninterested in your personal problems,” Theo said, gesturing to the soldiers and citizens coming to distribute aid and help with those trapped in ruined buildings. The battle Fenian fought raged on in the distance, but had never drawn too close as to threaten the city. “We’re here to help.”

Theo bit back the other things he wanted to say for now. He wanted every piece of the Worldbreaker destroyed within the city. But now was the time for healing. Hanan looked too shaken to consider those things.

“Let’s find somewhere private to speak,” Hanan said, rubbing his face and leaving streaks of dirt behind. “My head isn’t in order.”

Theo nodded and Rowan assumed his assigned post as guardian to the king. Sarisa remained with the alchemist as they moved through the city. People looked out from their homes, fear on their faces. That would pass. Two guards stepped aside as Hanan gestured to a guard tower that hadn’t collapsed. They saluted, stepping to the side and allowing the group entrance to the tower. Hanan made his way to a table in the center, draining the contents of several mugs before wheeling around.

“This has been horrible, archduke. Absolutely dreadful.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Rowan muttered, climbing up the stairs to check the second floor. The circular tower was bare, but one could never be too careful.

Theo sighed. “What do you know about your father’s plan?”

“Nothing!” Hanan shouted, hysterical. “He vanished without a word. Only when that thing approached me did I learn he was dead. I was told nothing. I know nothing.”

“This isn’t an interrogation. We know where Karasan went and why. We know how and why he died. The man fighting against the… creature was the one to slay him.”

Hanan paused for a moment and Theo judged his response. The king tensed up for a moment before slamming his fist on the table. “I wish to meet this man and slap him across the face. My father’s life was mine to take.”

Sarisa laughed, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Not the response I was expecting,” Theo muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “I guess we can work with that.”

“The Dreamer promised my people would be unharmed, but it didn’t mention all that,” Hanan said, gesturing vaguely out into the city.

“There’s more,” Theo said, taking a seat. He drank another Greater Stamina Potion, his eyes flaring brighter after the potion. “We’re going to make you an offer. You can take your time to look it over. Our concern right now is stabilizing the city. She’s going to roll over if we don’t put some supports around her.”

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Hanan swallowed hard. “You’re going to execute me, aren’t you?”

“What? No. Calm down,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I don’t have the details. But you can join the Southlands Alliance or become a vassal of the Southlands Alliance.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Theo couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not prepared to be a king, are you?”

“I’m barely a king!” Hanan shouted. “Whatever your offer contains… I need guidance. Someone needs to teach me how to lead.”

“You and me both, buddy.”

The sounds of Fenian fighting in the distance calmed down after a while. There was a commission outside, so Theo went to check it out. The elven trader descended from the sky, carried on unseeable winds of magic. He landed, flipped his hair to one side and sighed dramatically.

“My dear alchemist!” Fenian shouted, bounding over and wrapping the alchemist in an embrace. “Oh, it’s been far too long! Decades!”

“A few weeks,” Theo corrected, groaning under the strength of the elf.

“Not so! I was trapped in Balkor’s realm for a while. And… Oh. Hello, Prince Hanan. Sorry I killed your dad.”

Hanan had poked his head out of the tower, looking upon Fenian with shock on his face. “You’re the elf we exiled! You’re the one who killed the Merchant Chairs!”

Fenian acted bashful, grinding his foot into the ground and twirling his hair. “Guilty! Although that was to draw your father out. So I could murder him in the heavens.”

“I need another drink,” Hanan groaned.

Fenian produced a bottle of clear liquid from his inventory and held it out for the king to take. Hanan took it and drained half the bottle, stumbling back and nodding.

“That’ll do,” Hanan said, his cheeks going rosy. “Thank you, elf. The city is in your debt.”

“The world is,” Fenian corrected. “You may erect my statues in bronze, but I prefer gold.”

“Did you kill it?” Theo asked.

“No. But I drove him off. We’ll talk about this in private. Business for the thrones, you know.”

“Of course,” Theo said, grabbing Fenian by the arm. “Tresk, you coming?”

“Straight to the throne?” Tresk asked, speaking into Theo’s mind.

“Yep,” Theo said, allowing his Tero’gal Dreampassage ability to slip them between the cracks of reality. He passed over the Bridge and aimed directly for the Dreamer’s Throne beneath the earth.

“Ah. Look at that,” Fenian said, sighing. “You moved the throne.”

Tresk appeared behind them, giggling. “Yep! Where is yours?”

“I’m not telling you,” Fenian said, folding his arms. “A man has to have his secrets.”

“Still in the pocket dimension,” Tresk said, nodding. “Amateur.”

“I didn’t see you defeating that monstrosity!” Fenian said.

Theo couldn’t tell if the elf was wounded from the statement. The smile that always tugged on the corners of his mouth had tightened slightly. They traded jabs and that smile got wider, revealing his playful intentions.

“Three thrones down,” Theo said, looking through the darkness of the fragment of the Dreamer’s realm. The marble throne sat alone, but it also rested somewhere in Tresk’s soul.

“One to go,” Fenian said, clapping a hand on Theo’s back. “Does your realm have a bath?”

“Yeah,” Theo said, shifting his mind slightly to relocate them to the village in Tero’gal. Various archways were up, meaning there were other gods here.

“My boy!” Uz’Xulven shouted from near the cottage. “He’s finally back, guys!”

Fenian smiled and waved. “I’ll have a bath, first,” he said, smelling himself and recoiling. “And some clothes if you have them… You! Spirit! Could you show me to the bath?”

Fenian marched off with a random spirit. Theo guessed that’s where the bath was, but he didn’t know. Alex waddled behind the alchemist and Tresk and they made their way to the cottage. It was a miracle the marshling wasn’t wounded during her fight. When the door to the building opened, they were met with a wall of sound. Conversation rolled through all gods assembled, retelling the events that had happened on the mortal plane.

“And she just like… Bam!” Benton shouted.

Uz’Xulven laughed. “Did you see what Fenian did to that creature?”

“Did you see what he did to the landscape?” Glantheir asked, scoffing. “Theo needs to draw some new maps of the continent.”

Theo, Tresk, and Alex entered the room, silencing the group in an instant. They found chairs, grabbing tea and sweets.

“How bad was it?” Theo asked around a mouthful of cookies. “The continent.”

“It used to be a single landmass,” Khahar said, grinning across the table. “It is now ten islands.”

“At least ten!” Spit countered. “Oh what fun.”

“I’m glad you guys enjoyed the show,” Tresk said, flexing her muscles. No matter how strong she got, she still had little stick arms. That didn’t stop the gods from clapping and cheering for her. She flexed, pointing at Khahar. “Which way to the gunshow, buddy?”

“Your Potion of Berserk is art, Theo,” Drogramath said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“How many effects did you stack on that barrier spell, Theo?” Uz’Xulven asked. “I was watching and then… poof! Couldn’t see a damned thing.”

The praise came in turgid waves, stopped only by a god stuffing their face with Benton’s cooking. Khahar signaled that the holders of thrones, present and future, should go for a walk. Theo nodded, exiting the building with the group before sending them to some far-flung place in Tero’gal. They stood on a ledge near the top of a mountain, looking over misty greenery below.

“You know where the Throne of the Dreamwalker is, right Theo?” Khahar asked.

“Yep. With the space elves.”

Khahar paused for a long moment. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about the other Dreamer.”

“Is he dead?” Tresk asked.

Khahar didn’t answer that. He stood, looking down at the sprawling landscape. The silence that set in over the group was a comfortable one. Theo had cleared the board of all his enemies, and gained an ally in the process. Emperor Kuzan might be a problem in the future, but Tarantham was far enough that he wasn’t worried. This would go down as a moment of rebuilding. A time where the world would come together. Once they realized what the next step was, after Theo gained his throne, things would move quickly. The inhabitants of this plant, no matter how powerful, would come to terms with their mortality.

“I can’t even feel the throne here,” Khahar said, breathing in the crisp air. “For once, something is outside of my grasp. And it bothers me.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Theo said, falling back into his thoughts.

Tero’gal was special. Theo remembered something mentioned to him before. There existed two gods who had taken the Tara’hek. How he hadn’t met them before was baffling. Because anyone who climbed the ladder to gain more power with the Tara’hek had a massive advantage. Once he claimed the Throne of the Dreamwalker, they would gain more power than anyone could imagine.

“What is the dreamer supposed to do?” Tresk asked, scratching her head.

“They forestall problems related to the Herald. The Dreamwalker’s job is similar, helping the Arbiter.”

“Neat!” Tresk said. “I’m mostly interested in giving people nightmares.”

“As should be expected.”

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