Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 17

After stepping out of the shadows of the Demihuman Quarter and onto the sunbaked streets of the common area, Ludmila was immediately tempted to return to the cooler areas under the Dragon aerie. The midday heat of the city was far beyond what would be considered a sweltering day in the Vale, and her skin prickled with sweat the moment she stepped out into the daylight. Picking up her pace, she beat a swift retreat back to the manor, where she silently mulled over what Hejinmal had shared with her.

It was not only through his words, but through his behaviour that Ludmila had gained a fair sense of how she should probably approach her relationship with Ilyshn’ish. By Hejinmal’s account, Ilyshn’ish was a loving little sister who performed all manner of kind acts towards him. The result was that he seemed to mostly view her in an overwhelmingly positive light, as far as Frost Dragon standards went. Ilyshn’ish had become something like a ‘constant’ in Hejinmal’s life. Whether Hejinmal himself was aware of this, or whether Ilyshn’ish was shrewdly exploiting this aspect of their nature was unknown, but the fact remained that Ilyshn’ish was just as vulnerable to the same methods by Hejinmal’s assertion.

A part of Ludmila raised concerns over whether this was a fair thing to take advantage of, but it was also an everyday part of her life. Whether it be hunting prey, fighting Demihumans, or negotiating agreeable terms with her own subjects, she was at the most basic level exploiting natural vulnerabilities, needs, or desires to maintain the ideals of her own existence. It was probably a bit much to say that the ends justified the means, but the intended result was benevolent in nature, or at least she considered it beneficial for everyone involved. She didn’t think that any cruel methods were required to achieve what was required, either.

It had become more clear what she needed to do, yet less so for other reasons. Her task was to have Ilyshn’ish achieve the standard of behaviour expected of one who would serve as the first point of contact between foreign populations and the Sorcerous Kingdom – namely as an official working for the Department of Transportation. She was also a Bard registered with the Adventurer Guild, and would be expected to interact with new peoples encountered on expeditions. Becoming Ludmila’s Knight put Ilyshn’ish in a roughly analogous position, allowing her to learn most of what would be required.

That was the point where everything just seemed to break down, or at least that was how it felt to her. After speaking with Hejinmal, it felt more and more that she herself was in the wrong from a broader standpoint – that she was dancing around a truth that she refused to accept. In the greater scheme of things, the Sorcerous Kingdom was not a Human nation, despite being mainly populated by Humans and founded upon a framework of Human laws and customs.

Her task was to train Ilyshn’ish into someone who was qualified to be a representative of the Sorcerous Kingdom, but what was the Sorcerous Kingdom? Even if she managed to gain Ilyshn’ish’s trust, this was still something that she needed to determine: not just for Ilyshn’ish, but also for herself.

Certainly, it had been founded upon what once was a part of Re-Estize, using Re-Estize law, but changes came as the weeks and months passed. Existing laws were amended to facilitate its nonhuman subjects, and new ones were set forth to address matters that were outside of Human consideration. They were ruled by an Undead sovereign and, to her knowledge, none of his ministers were Human. While the House of Lords was entirely Human, how long would it be before Demihuman Lords started to populate its seats?

The current course of Ilyshn’ish’s training had Human interaction as the goal, based on how she had interpreted Lady Shalltear’s task. It was a course that Ludmila now felt was incorrect, even if Ilyshn’ish’s first assignment would be in the Empire. She would not be the representative of a Human nation, she would be a representative of the Sorcerous Kingdom: a land filled with many different peoples, of which Humans were only a part. Giving foreigners the impression that they were simply a Human nation could potentially lead to catastrophe in more ways than one.

Though Lady Shalltear professed to rely on her for the administrative, legal, and diplomatic side of things, it felt as if Ilyshn’ish was not only sent to her for instruction, but also there for Ludmila to realize that her approach to administration – even her image of the nation – was flawed in various ways. She smiled slightly, raising a hand to her breast as warmth rose within her: once again, she thanked the gods for blessing her with such an excellent liege.

“I’ll be off to the Adventurer Guild now,” Ludmila said as she rose from her seat. “Actually, I’ll be dropping by the cathedral first: if anyone comes looking for me, please let them know I’ll be there. Has anything come in that requires my attention before I go?”

“There’s been nothing urgent since your return, my lady,” Lisette said from her place to the side. “Do you have any instructions for us for this afternoon?”

“Nothing comes to mind,” she replied. “Ilyshn’ish will be out until late tonight, and there’s nothing due around the city to take care of.”

“If you’re headed to the cathedral,” Lisette asked, “shall I accompany you?”

“It’s fine,” Ludmila answered, “I just wanted the temple’s thoughts on something.”

After changing into her Adventuring garb, Ludmila left the manor and made her way over to the cathedral. Though it could not exactly be called busy at the current hour, there were a far greater number of people attending the midday service compared to the mere handful from months ago. The ongoing service was not her objective, however, and she made her way into the side hall where the offices of the clergy were. She stopped at a room further down the corridor from Bishop Austine’s, knocking lightly on the door.

“Y-yes? I mean, please come in.”

Ludmila opened the door, finding Themis seated stiffly at her polished oak desk with an equally stiff expression. The Cleric’s features relaxed upon seeing her, and she released a sigh.

“At the end of my frayed nerves lies Baroness Ludmila Zahradnik,” Themis leaned over and rested her cheek on the desk. “You have no idea how much I was dreading the first knock on that door. Don’t tell me that I’ve been worrying so much that I’m late for our training session.”

Shutting the door behind her, Ludmila smiled apologetically at the frazzled Cleric. Her mental state aside, she appeared to personify the revival of the faith of The Six in the Duchy of E-Rantel. Gone was the dirty-white scapular in black trim over her old chain shirt; in its place was a black scapular trimmed in silver over enchanted mithril plate mail. It was an appearance that commanded the respect of all worshippers of the Six Great Gods; a sign that divine favour shone down upon the faithful once again.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Ludmila said, “so I hope you’ll forgive my belated congratulations, Vicar Aspasia.”

“Eugh, just Themis, please. Vicar makes me sound like an old woman. It was just yesterday, anyway.”

“Well, you are a Vicar.”

“I’m technically a Vicar,” Themis, whose head still rested on her desk, raised a finger into the air. “I swear Bishop Austine’s getting ahead of himself. He dumped the outfit and the office and everything else on me – they even assigned me to new quarters. I happen to like my old priest’s quarters. Now I have to get the dusty old man smell out of the new one: the place hasn’t been lived in for decades.”

There were two ways to attain the position of Vicar in the Temples of the Six. One way was through long years of service, achieving a position of seniority in the cathedral as a Bishop’s deputy. The other way was to demonstrate the capability to cast divine magic of the Fourth Tier. Themis had landed her office through the latter route, though it was as she said a technicality: based on her being a powerful asset of the temples. The hierarchy of the temples placed value on seniority through time served rather than raw ability, so it was essentially an honorary appointment.

Through her extraordinary zeal in both temple duties and participation in the Adventurer guild, Themis was now the most powerful divine caster – of those that were Human, anyways – in the city of E-Rantel. This also technically meant that she was on par with an Orichalcum-rank Adventurer, but the Adventurer Guild didn’t have exams above Platinum yet due to a lack of qualified trainees.

“I think you look wonderful in your new vestments, Themis,” Ludmila said in encouraging tones.

“That was the point, I think,” Themis sat up with a frown. “I knew what Bishop Austine was up to when he had me register for the Adventurer Guild, but neither of us dreamed that it would end up like this. Now, he’s beyond ecstatic and I’m, well, feh.”

“Well look on the bright side,” Ludmila said. “At least you’re not yet twenty.”

Themis stared up at her blankly for several seconds, then her grey eyes widened in horror.

“You…you don’t think they’ll actually…”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the priest.”

“AAAAGH!” Themis shot to her feet with her hands on her head, sending several parchments floating to the floor, “I don’t wanna! Wipe that smirk off your face: you and Corelyn are right behind me. Your perfect little love nest won’t last forever.”

“I was just kidding,” Ludmila said. “They’ll probably keep you in the Adventurer Guild for a long while yet to advertise the faith. Barring that, it’s quite difficult to stay dead these days, so there might not be such a hurry for people like us to raise families. Even if you do have children, the cathedral will care for them while you’re performing your duties, right?”

“Maaaybe…” Themis plopped herself back down, “The scriptures promote the realization of Humanity’s strength through proper cultivation and development of our bloodlines, but if the gods meant for us to be popping out kids as quickly as possible, they wouldn’t have declared the age of majority to be twenty. We’d be like those degenerates that worship The Four, starting families at fourteen. Hm…maybe I’m on to something here…”

Themis furrowed her brow in thought, then her expression cleared as she tucked away whatever plot she was scheming.

“Anyways,” she said, “I’m sure you didn’t just come to torment me over my promotion.”

Ludmila came forward to seat herself upon one of the chairs in front of Themis’ desk, folding her hands in on her lap. The air turned solemn as the Cleric must have realized that she wasn’t just there to chat before heading out for training.

“Themis,” Ludmila started slowly, “what is the stance of the temples when it comes to the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“Being in your position,” Themis replied, “you should already know the answer to that. Did something happen?”

“Up to this point,” Ludmila said, “I suppose I've considered the Sorcerous Kingdom a Human nation. The vast majority of the subjects are Human, thus Human customs are the norm. We use laws originally set down by Humans, and things just seem ‘Human enough’, for the most part.”

“I thought that way until recently as well,” Themis told her. “But this recent expedition has overturned that perception. There are many nonhuman races in the Sorcerous Kingdom, and we are not ruled by Humans, but I guess it only really hits you when it’s right in your face. It’s just been a sort of distant thing until now for me, especially since I don’t ever frequent the Demihuman Quarter.”

“How does that affect you and your duties?” Ludmila asked.

“Not much, to be honest,” Themis answered. “I believe that our previous trials as a minority in Re-Estize was the gods’ way of preparing us for life in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Rather than trying to influence politics or getting into other things we weren’t supposed to, we were made to focus on the Human population – the chosen of our gods. This hasn’t changed in the slightest, and we are all the stronger for what has happened.”

It seemed that little had changed from the perspective of the Temple, despite the broader changes in the Sorcerous Kingdom. The faith of The Six was a religion that served Humanity, and politics did not sway them from the core of their divine mandate. Their tasks were more clear-cut than what Ludmila had to consider.

“As an official of the Sorcerous Kingdom,” she said, “I am duty bound to represent its interests…but these interests aren’t the interests of a Human nation. Rule of law reigns, to be sure, but what happens if we go to war against a Human nation?”

“I’d prefer that we didn’t,” Themis said, “but it would be the same as usual, I suppose. When Re-Estize and Baharuth went to war with one another, the Theocracy did nothing but put in their two coppers on the matter, and the temples of our nations had no legal say at all. When the Sorcerous Kingdom was established, the Theocracy declared their neutrality. I suspect that, if the Sorcerous Kingdom goes to war with a Human nation, the same thing will happen. If you examine the only conflicts that they’ve directly intervened in – like those between the Dragonic Kingdom and the Beastman Kingdom to their east – they are acts conducted at arm’s length that produce a net positive for humanity as a whole. War with the Sorcerous Kingdom is a net negative for humanity, as they probably see things, so they will not risk it in any way.”

“But what about my personal actions?” Ludmila asked, “I have a duty to my liege and the crown as a noble, but I also have a duty to the gods as one of the faithful.”

“…we’re not going to war with one of our neighbors, are we?”

“Not that I know of,” Ludmila replied. “War is not the only thing that this applies to, though. What if there are policies or laws that affect us, or cultural changes that might be harmful?”

“Well, the faith in Re-Estize has always been in this position, so nothing’s really changed there. In the Sorcerous Kingdom, Human nobles rule over Human populations, so rather than your political agendas being an issue of faith, it becomes a representation of Human interests. Things would remain secular, in that sense – being Human does not require you to be one of our faithful, and our faith does what is best for humanity. Beyond that, it is understood that it’s better to have one of our faithful remain in power as a member of the aristocracy, where they might at least be able to effect positive changes in the future.”

“And in the event of war?”

“Then I trust that you’ll make the best decisions that you can,” Themis said. “When it comes to being a faithful noble, you and Corelyn have a better grasp of how our tenets are carried out than any of us priests in the cathedral – you apply them every day as you perform your duties, after all. The both of you have theological foundations that any priest here would be hard pressed to match.”

“What we do is within the expectations of our normal lives,” Ludmila replied. “A war against another nation goes beyond that – especially for me. What if I am one day called to lead an Undead contingent against a Human nation? How can I consider myself one of the faithful if I go around destroying armies of my own kind for a nonhuman agenda?”

The Cleric of Surshana twisted her lip, staring down at the desk. Her fingers drummed slowly over its surface for several seconds.

“If war does happen…” Her voice trailed off before it started again, “Well, we only have recent examples to go off of. E-Rantel was peacefully integrated after being annexed, and humanity has seen great benefits from their rule thus far. Baharuth, while they did not go to war against us, has become a client state that benefits from the Sorcerous Kingdom’s protection as well.”

Themis looked up to the wall beside her desk, at a map of E-Rantel and its surrounding region. Her eyes drifted slightly, and Ludmila turned her head up to follow the line of her gaze. She already knew where she was looking, however: Re-Estize. It was the only nation on their borders that had not made its stance clear on the Sorcerous Kingdom. They were still officially in a truce in the aftermath of the Battle of Katze Plains, but beyond that…

“The scriptures promote the advancement of humanity as a whole,” Themis said, “so if you are ever called to command the forces of the Sorcerous Kingdom against a Human adversary, the ideal outcome would be to secure victory with minimal loss of life. While we can only consider its brief history as a nation, a Human population being brought into the Sorcerous Kingdom’s hegemony will probably benefit from the relationship in the long run.”

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