Valkyrie's Shadow

Before the Storm: Act 8, Chapter 11



Chapter 11

“This is a lot crazier when you see it in person.”

Waves of silt-laden water lapped at Liane’s toes as she and Florine stood on the banks of the Oriculon River. It was already the largest river she had ever seen in her life the last time they visited the Draconic Kingdom; now, one could be convinced that it wasn’t a river at all. The northern shore had disappeared somewhere beyond the horizon and the floodwaters had turned the city into an island. Fortunately for Oriculon’s citizens, there were plenty of unoccupied bits of high ground to live on.

“Pip!”

She eyed the bird-like Demihuman perched on her friend’s head. What was it even doing there? Had Florine somehow turned it into a pet? Maybe it was the other way around.

“Pip!”

Liane reached for the Demihuman’s tail, which hung parallel to Florine’s long, golden hair. Without warning, its head turned a hundred and eighty degrees to attack her hand.

“Yeow!”

Florine rounded on her with a cross look. The Beastman cub in her arms reached out to try and swat Liane.

“Liane!”

“What?! Your stupid pecker pecked me!”

“His name is Liolio,” Florine told her. “You must have done something to disturb him.”

“Pip!”

“How could you take his side just like that?” Liane fumed, “I’ve been your best friend for over ten years.”

“I’m taking his side because I’ve been your best friend for over ten years.”

“Tch.”

Clara appeared at the railing of one of the barges moored nearby.

“What is going on down there?”

“Nothing,” Liane said. “How’s our boat looking?”

“Everything is as we left it. Are you sure these modifications will work?”

“Uh, I’m mostly sure,” Liane said. “What’s the worst that could happen if things go wrong?”

The ‘modifications’ in question were combining four barge hulls into a ‘super barge’ that would serve as a spacious passenger ship. The vessel had four modest suites, four dozen cabins, and a kitchen below decks. A common area had been created out of the main deck, which came complete with furnishings for a variety of races.

“How’s everyone settling in?” Liane asked.

“How should I know?” Clara answered with a sigh, “I have no idea what ‘settled in’ looks like for them. It would be better if the two of you oversaw things.”

“That would defeat the purpose of the whole exercise,” Florine said.

Both Liane and Florine had been raised in houses with substantial connections to the east, so they had plenty of experience around non-Humans – mostly people in Karnassus – while growing up. Clara’s house, on the other hand, primarily dealt with Merchants from the Slane Theocracy. Their respective experiences shaped their behaviour around non-Humans and the Theocracy’s stance on them was not very generous, to put it mildly.

That wasn’t to say that Clara was overtly hostile to non-Humans, but her associates’ fearful sentiments had rubbed off on her. To remedy that, everyone agreed that she should oversee the delegation’s day-to-day operations.

“I cannot even tell one Goblin from another,” Clara said. “Or one Orc from another, for that matter. This is bound to end in catastrophe.”

“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” Liane said. “It ain’t as if the ship will fall apart.”

“You only say that because you have not seen what they are doing in there.”

“Wait, what are they–”

“Countess Wagner.”

Liane turned to find a familiar figure approaching them, flanked by a pair of palace guards. She broke out into a wide grin.

“Oh, if it isn’t Carillo. Long time no see!”

The handsome young nobleman answered with a grin of his own. He strolled over to greet them with a polite bow.

“Not too long, I think,” he said. “Countess Corelyn; Baroness Gagnier, it gladdens my heart to see everyone back in Oriculon.”

“It is a joy to return to the Draconic Kingdom, Count Carillo,” Clara said, switching smoothly to Low Draconic. “I take it that you’ve already come across Baroness Zahradnik?”

“That I did, my lady,” Count Carillo glanced over his shoulder. “Though I’m not sure what it was that I was seeing. She was glaring at the gate to the city proper, scaring everyone away.”

“Ah,” Liane said, “that’s because she was bitten by the Guilds.”

“How terrible,” the young nobleman’s voice grew grave. “Will she be alright?”

“She’s day to day,” Liane replied. “If we don’t get her back to the wilderness soon, she might shrivel up and die.”

Liane jumped as Florine poked her in the ribs.

“Baroness Zahradnik will be fine,” she said. “Her territory is entirely self-sufficient.”

“That must be nice,” Count Carillo sighed. “With so much to set aright here, the Guilds have us at their mercy in the areas where their members are needed. We sometimes petition Her Majesty to do something about them, but she only smiles and tells us that adversity builds character.”

“Isn’t Her Majesty worried that they’ll become too powerful?”

“I doubt it. Even at their worst, the Guilds here aren’t even remotely as bad as they are further along the Syrillian Way. If they approached that level of dominance, the Guilds’ own members would turn on them out of their adoration for our Queen.”

It wasn’t the first time that Liane wondered whether they put something in the food. Of course, she knew it probably had something to do with the ‘Levels’ that Lady Shalltear sometimes spoke with them about. The real question was whether other societies were aware of Levels and what they could do with them. Queen Oriculus certainly seemed to, even if her subjects didn’t.

“Since you’re here, Count Carillo,” Clara said as she joined them, “I take it that Her Majesty is ready to receive us?”

“Indeed, Lady Corelyn,” Count Carillo replied with a nod and a sweep of his arm. “Please, this way.”

The two guards fell into step behind them as the young nobleman led them to the gate connecting the Sorcerous Kingdom’s exclave to the palace district. Its cobblestone streets and overgrown estates had been cleaned up since they were last in the city, and it looked like the citizens in the lower districts had moved in to escape the floodwaters. Marbled plazas had become bustling marketplaces while the green spaces all around them had been converted into cargo lots.

“I had expected the Minister of Foreign Affairs to receive us,” Clara said.

“Her Excellency isn’t in the city at the moment,” Count Carillo said. “I’m afraid you’ll find many members of our Royal Court absent. We had just finished resettling the lower reach when the river unexpectedly decided to keep rising after the Deluge. Many of our Nobles have lost their lands and are busy resettling the resettled population.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that you guys have plenty of room these days,” Liane said.

Count Carillo smiled slightly in response.

“Our people are accustomed to making the best out of a bad situation, and this situation is honestly not so bad. We have more things to look forward to with every passing week.”

When they reached the wrought iron gates of the palace, the guards stationed there exchanged a glance before stepping forward to bar their way. Liane’s gaze flickered between them.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“Forgive us, my lady,” one of the guards said, “but no one mentioned a Beastman being brought before Her Majesty.”

“But he’s just a baby,” Florine said as she defensively tucked the Nar cub deeper within her mantle.

“Even baby Beastmen are dangerous,” the guard said. “What would happen if he got loose?”

“He’d attack someone,” Liane said. “Probably me.”

Florine rolled her eyes and released her breath in a huff.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll just go and keep Zahradnik company.”

“…will that be alright?” Count Carillo asked.

“We’ve merely come to consult with Her Majesty,” Clara said. “It’s not a state visit.”

“Then I hope we won’t receive a strongly-worded letter from E-Rantel,” Count Carillo said, then gestured to the guards who had accompanied them. “See Baroness Gagnier safely back to the exclave.”

And then there were two…

The palace interior had changed little since the spring. If anything, it was even barer than before with most of the aristocrats making up the palace staff sorting out what was going on in the provinces.

“Who’s left in the capital, anyway?” Liane asked.

“Aside from myself,” Count Carillo answered, “Zorlu’s obviously around since Eastwatch remains unoccupied. Then there’s…well, that’s about it.”

“How has this unexpected flooding affected the Draconic Kingdom’s recovery?” Clara asked.

“A fifth of our population has been displaced,” Count Carillo answered. “We were already wary of flooding since much of the resettlement occurred during the deluge, so things aren’t as bad as they might seem. Most of those affected were herdspeople jumping on the chance to profit off of the demand for meat in the Sorcerous Kingdom, so all they had to do was move themselves and their livestock to higher ground.”

“What about your towns and villages?”

“Depending on what they were built out of, they’re either still there or have floated away. Either way, towns affected by flooding in the Oriculon Reach have had their populations relocated along with those of their rural constituents.”

Liane couldn’t detect any sign of consternation or worry in the young nobleman’s voice. Most of what he said made sense. The Draconic Kingdom was no stranger to seasonal flooding and its recovery planning accounted for the many risks that came with living in the Oriculon Reach. Most of the country’s current efforts were made along its extensive coastline to take advantage of its near effortless logistics. According to Liane’s trade reports, this made for a shockingly rapid rebound from its previously dire state.

In hindsight, the way that things played out meant that their resistance to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s offerings was not an expression of arrogance, but confidence. Still, Liane was absolutely certain that they would have done even better if they weren’t so annoyingly methodical with their management.

Captain Scavo greeted them with a salute as they approached the entrance to the throne room. He went to announce their arrival, but then quickly closed the doors as opening them revealed the Black Scale Dragon Lord with her head tilted back, emptying the remaining drops of a dark bottle into her wide-open mouth. When the door was next opened, the Queen of the Draconic Kingdom sat primly upon her throne, awaiting their entrance with a dignified bearing. The bottle was nowhere to be seen.

“Countess Corelyn; Countess Wagner, welcome back to the Draconic Kingdom.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

As if to match her slightly more mature figure, Draudillon’s voice was a bit lower than when they had last spoken with her. Liane eyed the ‘young’ Queen’s developing curves critically, wondering how long it would be before they surpassed hers.

When I become a Heteromorph, I better be able to change my shape.

“Thank you for your warm welcome, Your Majesty,” Clara said as she and Liane curtseyed in return. “I hope we haven’t come at a bad time.”

“Not at all,” the Queen said. “We were just sitting here waiting for Oriculon to float off into the sea. And We doubt you would do anything to waste Our time.”

“Can it do that, Your Majesty?” Liane asked.

“We thought about making it so,” the Queen answered, “but We do not have enough power at the moment. So, what brings you to Us? We assume that you’re not here to escape your winter weather.”

“There has been a fortuitous turn of events,” Clara replied. “At least from the Sorcerous Kingdom’s perspective. The flooding of the Orciulon River has become a widespread crisis for the Beastmen of Rol’en’gorek. Earlier this week, a representative from one of their clans arrived at Castle Corelyn to see if we could do anything to help her people.”

Queen Oriculus sent a look to where Count Zorlu stood to one side. The newly minted Marshal shook his head in response.

“We haven’t received any reports of Beastmen travelling through our lands,” Count Zorlu said. “Did they arrive through the Empire?”

Liane briefly dwelt on the potential reactions that the imperials might have upon randomly coming across a Beastman. Demihumans were allowed to enter Baharuth, but only with the right paperwork. Without it, they were likely to be skewered by the lance of an Imperial Knight.

“It was a single representative, Your Excellency,” Clara said. “An Ocelo Lord from the central regions of Rol’en’gorek. She flew directly over from her home.”

“So they fly, now,” the Marshal muttered. “How comforting.”

“We take it that the Sorcerous Kingdom intends to use this opportunity to advance their foreign policy goals for the region?” Queen Oriculus said.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Clara replied. “For the time being, we intend to limit our interactions to trade and cultural exchange. If I understand it correctly, the Confederation of Rol’en’gorek is engaged in a major conflict with its eastern neighbours. The Sorcerous Kingdom does not intend to offer anything in direct support of that conflict until we learn more.”

“Our Kingdom only stands to gain from this venture,” the Queen said, “so you will hear no protests from Us.”

That was quick.

“Who are they fighting?” Marshal Zorlu asked.

“Another jungle confederation,” Clara answered. “One ruled by Green Dragons. According to the representative from Rol’en’gorek, the two confederations have been rivals since the time of the Demon Gods.”

When one thought about it rationally, the realities of the situation were terrifying. With Lady Xoc’s visit also came Dame Verilyn’s preliminary reports on Rol’en’gorek. The Oriculon River ran far further than anyone had expected, flowing through a jungle basin that was larger than every Human country in the region combined. Every clan and tribe in that basin was part of a single confederation, yet the powers on their borders were individually strong enough to keep them in check.

The fact that the region around the Sorcerous Kingdom was considered an unimportant backwater of the world was long known, yet it somehow always remained a ‘Merchant’ thing that was of no relevance to everyone else. Instead of pursuing the storied wealth and advancement of the world beyond, people were simply content to stick to the ruts worn into the road ahead of them by their ancestors.

As a result, affecting change was difficult. It wasn’t enough to show or tell people what to do. The world itself needed to change to such a degree that people had no choice but to accept their new reality. The expansion of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s hegemony would hopefully contribute to that process by expanding its citizens’ awareness of the bigger picture, but, even then, Liane suspected that many would stubbornly cling to the past.

I guess that doesn’t matter so long as they don’t stand in the way of progress.

“Out of curiosity,” Queen Oriculus asked, “does this conflict have anything to do with the flooding of the Oriculon?”

“We believe so, Your Majesty,” Clara answered. “A group of our citizens visiting Rol’en’gorek discovered that weather control magic was being used by potential allies of the opposing confederation. Vast swathes of territory were being rendered inhospitable to the Beastmen using this method. Fortunately, our people were able to convince them to stop.”

“That’s good to hear,” the Queen said. “Hopefully, the river fully recedes before the next Deluge. Do you know the nature of the weather control magic that was used?”

“The nature…?”

“Umu. Were those responsible for the weather control magic arcane casters? Priests? Druids? Or perhaps something else?”

Clara reached into the InfiniteHaversack on her right hip and pulled out a thin blue binder.

“From what we were able to gather, Your Majesty,” she said as she flipped to a certain page, “it was a group of Priests from a nation located deep in the Worldspine. They were using the magic to make conditions more favourable for their people, which also happened to have a catastrophic effect on Rol’en’gorek.”

“Hmm…”

They waited in silence as Queen Oriculus’ expression changed from its usual youthful innocence to…something else. Liane wondered if they were being offered a glimpse into the true Draudillon Oriculus. Several moments later, the woman on the throne let out a small sigh and seemed to shrug.

“May we know Your Majesty’s thoughts?” Clara asked.

“I was pondering the state of the World,” the Dragon Lord replied. “The interesting times that we live in have perhaps become even more so. For the indeterminate future, gauging the world using the superficial measures you are accustomed to may do you a disservice.”

Cryptic much?

Whenever Draudillon Oriculus spoke as a Dragon Lord, half of everything she said made little to no sense. Yet, it was common knowledge that Dragon Lords were beings who perceived and influenced the world in ways that were incomprehensible to pretty much everyone else. Even the most learned mages would do anything for their insights and the power of the Dragon Lords was universally feared.

The Black Scale Dragon Lord was the personification of this paradoxical existence. She had demonstrated the power to wipe out the Beastmen who preyed on her subjects at any point of her choosing, yet she had not done so for nonsensical reasons. Then, in the end, she did it under some equally nonsensical justification. A part of Liane suspected that she did it to temper the Sorcerous Kingdom’s ambitions when it came to her lands.

“The two of you look lost,” the Queen smiled slightly.

“That might be one way to put it, Your Majesty,” Liane replied.

Queen Oriculus hopped to her feet.

“Let’s take a walk,” she said.

“Your Majesty,” Marshal Zorlu said, “this is highly irregular…”

“My butt is becoming irregular from sitting all morning on this torture device everyone calls a throne,” the Dragon Lord snapped, then turned toward the open balcony behind the throne. “I heard that you brought a variety of representatives from the Sorcerous Kingdom with you.”

Without waiting for a response, the Queen made her way down a ramp that wasn’t there the last time Liane had been in Oriculon Palace. The wooden walkway hugged the sheer cliffs towering over the river, eventually leading to a set of platforms that disappeared into the swirling waters below. A set of chairs was arranged on the lowest platform that wasn’t submerged, forming a loose semicircle facing the river.

“What’s this place?” Liane asked.

“Our Water Court,” Queen Oriculus answered. “The temporary one, at any rate. The official one will be in the new city being constructed south of here.”

“Has the Draconic Kingdom already incorporated the aquatic tribes into its government?” Clara asked.

“It depends on what you mean by ‘incorporated’,” the Queen answered. “Practically speaking, Our longstanding relationship with the aquatic tribes has long helped us develop a mutual understanding while the treaties we held with them act as a legal foundation going forward. For the time being, they conduct themselves as they always have – what the Draconic Kingdom becomes in the future is a matter of time and careful cultivation.”

“Does Your Majesty mean to say that the Draconic Kingdom has been planning this all along?” Liane asked.

“If consistently acting in good faith and treating people with basic decency is a ‘plan’, then We suppose so. The fact that We have disassociated ourselves from the Slane Theocracy also makes things a bit easier.”

The latter part, at least, was perfectly understandable. Liane imagined that any Demihuman tribe familiar with the Theocracy would be wary about getting too close to a country under its thumb. She glanced at Clara to see how she reacted to the Queen’s words, but her friend seemed unbothered.

“Have any Merchants from the Theocracy appeared since the end of the invasion?” Clara asked.

“No,” the Queen said, “but their ships will no doubt appear at some point, complete with government spies amongst their crews. It will be interesting to see how they react to the sight of Undead guarding the ports.”

They continued on their way, following the boardwalk to where it ended atop the wall of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s exclave. From their vantage, Liane spotted Florine, Ludmila, and Nemel standing at the hilltop grove with Zu Chiru and a handful of the delegation’s representatives. The three noblewomen turned to make their greetings as the Queen approached, then froze when she closed far faster than expected. When Queen Oriculus took the Nar cub’s paws in her hands, Marshal Zorlu, Captain Scavo, and the pack of guards that had followed them from the throne room exploded into a panic. Zu Chiru let out a frightened squeak and curled tightly into a ball.

“They’re so cute when they’re not yet big enough to eat your face,” the Queen cooed as her fingers squished the pads of the cub’s paws. “Is he a Beastman from the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Florine answered. “He was left behind when we drove the invaders out of Corrin-on-the-Lake.”

“So you mean to return him to his people as a gesture of goodwill,” Queen Oriculus gave Florine an appraising look. “We always thought you were a shrewd diplomat.”

“Th-That wasn’t the intention at all, Your Majesty!” Florine put on a scandalised look, “I just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him uncared for.”

“This is also a good attitude to have,” the Queen told her. “Many races care for their young, so it can be a point of common empathy that one may leverage to build friendly relations.”

The Nar cub yawned. Marshal Zorlu yanked Queen Oriculus away. Clara cleared her throat.

“Your Majesty,” she said, “I don’t believe you’ve met Miss Gran before. She’s a scion from the Empire who recently moved to the Sorcerous Kingdom to work as a seneschal.”

Nemel lowered herself into a curtsey.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.”

“Umu. And who is this fellow curtseying beside you?”

“Um…this is Nob,” Nemel replied. “He’s a part of the Goblin company that came with me. I have no idea why he’s curtseying.”

“Nob,” Nob said.

“This is Zu Chiru,” Clara gestured to the ball of fur on the dirt beside Nob. “I’m not sure if you’ve met him before, but he is a Quagoa Merchant from E-Rantel who has been trading with the Draconic Kingdom for a few months now.”

They waited in awkward silence for several moments, but the ball of fur didn’t stir. It took a few more minutes to introduce the rest of the delegation members present, after which Queen Oriculus made a beeline back to the Nar cub cradled in Florine’s arms. Marshal Zorlu intercepted the Queen and guided her to a nearby boulder.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Clara said, “Your Majesty meant to share something with us. Something about gauging the world using superficial measures…?”

“Ah, yes,” Queen Oriculus said. “Keep in mind that this is not a recommendation that We make as a Queen, but something that I deem appropriate to inform you of as a Dragon Lord. Those fellows that you mentioned who are responsible for the flooding of the Oriculon may be more than they seem to be.”

“Our information suggests that they control territory that may be even more expansive than Rol’en’gorek,” Clara said.

“That wasn’t what I meant. Hmm…this may sound strange, but the Priests that you mentioned may be doing the bidding of a god.”

“Aren’t all Priests agents of the divine?”

“Not necessarily,” Queen Oriculus said. “Trying to explain this to mortals is rather difficult…perhaps being more vague would help. In our world, there is magic, then there is magic, and then there is magic.

“I’m already lost,” Liane said.

Clara elbowed her in the ribs. The Black Scale Dragon Lord scratched her head.

“The ‘magic’ that the people of the present are most familiar with is Tier Magic,” Queen Oriculus said. “It is highly structured and well-defined, making it expedient and efficient to use. However, this also makes it inflexible and simplistic. None of that matters to most, however, as Tier Magic is the only magic that they have access to anyway. Older than Tier Magic is something we only see the vestiges of today. They function more like Abilities than conventionally cast magic, and there is always a cost associated with their use. A sacrifice. Blood in exchange for power. Bits of this and that for good fortune. That sort of thing.

“Finally, there is the magic that has existed since the birth of the World. It would be more accurate to call it ‘primaeval mana’ and its purposeful manipulation by certain beings as ‘magic’. Dragon Lords like myself are the prominent examples of beings who exist in this category: we are Primal Sorcerers who manipulate the primaeval mana that is commonly referred to as ‘souls’.”

Liane swallowed as the Dragon Lord’s lecture took a discomforting turn. She didn’t at all fancy the idea that there were beings out there who could manipulate her soul on a whim and Queen Oriculus had demonstrated that ability in grand fashion by ripping out the souls of countless Beastmen at the end of the Draconic Kingdom campaign.

“What does this have to do with these Priests and their ‘god’?” Clara asked.

“Souls are not the only ‘mana’,” Queen Oriculus replied. “There is also elemental mana, as well as the mana of life and death that can be felt as concentrations of positive and negative energy in various places. You see, the centuries-long chain of processes and events that led to the state of our present reality had some side effects. Depending on how one looks at it, certain barriers were weakened or various connections were strengthened or created, giving ways for the primaeval mana of our world to exert itself in ways that weren’t possible before. For instance, Elementals and Undead only started appearing relatively recently.”

“So what Your Majesty is describing has also resulted in the manifestation of a ‘god’?” Ludmila asked, “And this god is, in reality, the manifestation of a phenomenal concentration of primaeval mana?”

“So, like, a big Elemental?” Liane said.

The Black Scale Dragon Lord nodded.

“Umu. Though it might seem special, it is actually inevitable given the current state of the World. What is interesting here is that this particular being has mortal agents doing its bidding: an entire nation, if your information is accurate. You will be able to figure out what you are facing – assuming that you plan on doing something about it – well in advance by observing the activities of the Priests working for it.”

“In other words,” Nemel murmured, “if this country is freezing everything as it expands, it’s doing the work of an Ice Elemental?”

“Exactly,” the Dragon Lord smiled. “You catch on quickly for an imperial. They usually try to force everything to conform to what they think the world should be like.”

Nemel’s gaze fastened to the toes of her boots.

“It’s mostly because something like that is happening close to my home, Your Majesty. The Frost Dragon that I work for froze half of the mountain and now all sorts of ‘icy’ things are popping up that weren’t there before. It wouldn’t make any sense to the average imperial citizen. Wait, does that mean Dame Verilyn is a ‘god’?”

“A Dragon is a Dragon,” the Dragon Lord said. “In fact, most powerful Dragons consider themselves to be above these ‘gods’. They are usually not wrong.”

“Oh.”

Liane couldn’t tell whether the young noblewoman was relieved or terrified by Queen Oriculus’ answer. For her part, Liane was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that there were gods and gods and things above gods.

Standing on her boulder, Queen Oriculous put on a satisfied look.

“Well, now that I have left everyone thoroughly confused,” she said as she hopped back onto the ground, “I will leave you to ponder your place in existence. Don’t think too hard about it.”

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