T. A. Star
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1 - Willing to Pay
🕑 Added 2024-02-27 01:00:02 +0000 UTC
Things were not progressing well in this reality for Roimeldor. After losing almost half of his forces to the opposition they discovered on the planet Erythrós, he was not happy about some of the resource losses they were receiving on its sister planet, Makera. Even more frustrating was the fact that the initial Erythrós force wasn’t even in a retrievable state. At least if they had died he could have used their tech to retrieve and reconstruct but not as they now were.
“I may need to destroy the entire planet,” he murmured to himself as he stared out the window looking down upon the source of his current concerns; a red desert planet that lacked any moons and was currently shrouded in a haze of magic.
“I’m sorry, sir?” his secondary source of concerns asked in response to his spoken thoughts and he turned to look at the woman who served as his Second-in-command. Asyamil was currently at the max of Rose Caste, or what the locals called Ruby, and had been struggling to gain her Epiphanies since he had first met her and brought her into the ranks of the Soul Reapers. How many years that equated to depended on the reality they were in but he hadn’t kept track anyway, not bothered by such a trivial detail.
“What’s the cost for us to just destroy Erythrós?” he asked, turning to look at the taller elven woman.
She blinked at him for a moment before stating, “Sir, I know you want to speed things up but we’ve discussed this at length. You can’t just-”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “We wouldn’t escape the backlash and be able to reap the souls properly but is there nothing we can do about that?” Roimeldor asked, gesturing out the window towards the seemingly cursed planet, “That was not part of our plans.”
The Second glanced at the pane of glowing glass in her hands and touched at it while speaking, “You listed the Primordials as a viable secondary target for the sowing process and-”
“I know!” he growled in further frustration, “You don’t have to tell me something I did, Asyamil. I may be human but I’m also a Hollyhock Caster, we have perfect memories, remember?”
She seemed to flush slightly as she continued to stare at the thin glass tech in her hands, “Right. Well, we don’t currently have a solution but our Research Division is working on it. That’s not why I’m here, though.”
Roimeldor groaned as he walked over to sit at his desk near the center of the small room and gestured in front of a drawer that opened for him to pull out the glass and bottle that waited within.
“Sir, can Hollyhocks even get intoxicated?” the elf asked him with a raised brow.
“We can try,” he replied wryly and poured himself a glass. The locals called Hollyhock “Obsidian” and he thought the stones sounded better than their flowers but there had definitely been worse naming conventions he had heard around the colors given to the magic at each Caste level. The most basic realities just called them White, Blue, Green, Red, and Black but he had always preferred the more fanciful names.
“I haven’t even told you why I’m here.”
“You’re here and it’s not about that,” he gestured again to the window with the glass in his hand now filled with a dark purple liquid, “Which means I’m going to need a drink for the next round of bad news you’ve come to deliver. Unless you’ve come to inform me that Haldambar was caught up in that mess down there; in which case, this will be a celebratory drink.”
She shook her shoulder-length orange hair in disapproval as she reported, “No, sir. He’s currently in the lounge with his mate, I believe.”
“Of course he is,” the man grumbled, taking a drink of the burning liquid, “I swear they’re all slacking now that they have their-”
“We did manage to detonate a handful of Reality Rifts on Makera,” his Second stated, interrupting his griping to continue the report, “But the reaping was unfruitful. We’ve also gotten word that some of our targeted Reality Rifts on Makera were intercepted and no longer have capture teams available. A few were sealed for the foreseeable future but one had our allied forces discovered and captured or killed before they were able to detonate.”
The Commander of the Soul Reapers contemplated his glass for a moment before glancing out the window, opposite of the one which was still displaying his previous orbital view of Erythrós, to observe its sister Makera, a mostly blue and green planet with a blue and red moon currently orbiting it. This planet had a bit more magic overall than the previous and wasn’t currently cut off to them. This meant that it was the only viable source of souls at the moment, so he inquired, “Expected reaping from that one?”
“Around a million souls, sir.”
Roimeldor gave a low whistle, “That would be a decent haul. Looks like getting them to group up with this blood moon thing was a good idea after all. Location and Caste?”
“This one is in the northeastern quadrant in a zone currently reading at low Bluebell.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult then. Are any of our nearby forces available? I’m not keen on using these unreliable allies,” he grumbled, glancing at the rainbow of runes tattooed around his wrist. He hadn’t been aware of the quirky magical rule this reality had in place when he made his vow of alliance with the locals, called an Oathbond, and was only glad that he hadn’t accidentally promised more than he planned on delivering.
“They were the ones that helped us locate this reality in the first place, sir,” the elf pointed out, “And coordinated said blood moon into being prolonged for us.”
“Yes, and now their usefulness seems to have reached its end. Back to my question,” he commanded, taking another swig from his glass and wishing it was stronger.
“We have a unit that has been met with unexpectedly strong defenses and no foothold for our allies. They have reported reaching a stalemate currently in their mid-Ivy zone and the expected reaping from there is only around a hundred thousand as it’s a small island city-state.”
He nodded, glad that once more his Second was displaying that she was on the same page as him, already having answers to the questions she knew he would ask, “You already moved them to a staging point?”
“And gave them a trio of Reality Seeds as a backup,” she replied with a hint of a smirk.
“Why do you even bother telling me the bad news if you’re already taking care of it?”
“So you believe you’re actually the one steering this ship, Commander,” Asyamil replied with her usual quip and he gave a weary smile to her in return. The exhaustion was apparent in his eyes despite his immortality and her eyes finally met his as she said consolingly, “Just one more left, sir.”
“Just one more and I’ll gladly let you publicly steer us instead,” he replied and leaned back in his seat.
“No, thank you, sir,” she retorted and then added, “There is one more note of concern I feel… prudent to report.”
He simply nodded for her to continue and she hesitated before saying, “Some of our contacts in the southwestern quadrant have reported interference from a person that seems extremely focused on intercepting our people… an Ivy Abyssal Dragoon.”
Roimeldor’s head snapped up to stare at Asyamil and he clarified, “The one from Erythrós? They escaped the Primordial?”
“It appears so…”
The glass in his hand shattered as he stood and growled, “Find them. If they know how to escape, then they have information we need.”
“Sir, capture will likely be much more costly than-”
“That’s a price I’m willing to pay to get the souls of our people back first. Then we can reap theirs, along with the rest on these planets. Now bring me that jumped-up Ivy Caster!”
“Soooo… were you serious about that grounding?” Phoenix asked a bit nervously as she glanced up at Paul who had finally managed to shoo her party out of his home and was leading her toward his study, despite her knowing the way, and she assumed it was to talk privately.
Gold eyes glanced back at her as the corner of his mouth twitched and replied, “Well, seeing as we haven’t signed the papers yet to make things official I don’t think I can legally enforce that.”
“You’re the strongest Caster in like a bajillion miles, plus a Paladin of Avenger, I doubt legal actually matters to you at the moment,” she pointed out with a roll of her eyes.
He raised a brow at her as he opened the door to his study for her to enter ahead of him, “Are you arguing for or against the grounding?”
She paused for a moment on her way towards her usual seat, replaying her words before slowly admitting, “Good point. Ignore me, I’m still recovering from being totally awesome and taking out that Emerald Caster.”
“Pretty sure it was my Execute ability that actually took her out and you died, remember?” he countered after snapping the door to his secured room shut and making his way to the opposite side of the desk from her.
“Semantics,” she waved a dismissive hand in the air at those minor details.
“Though, you did win by stealing all the loot,” he said with a flat look.
“Uh… Did I mention I have presents for you?” she replied with a grin, recognizing that he had moved from scolding to teasing.
The Paladin proved her right the next moment when he returned her smile, “Let me guess, it’s Emerald Caste and you can’t use it?”
“It’s definitely Emerald Caste and there’s no way I can possibly use it,” she confirmed, then they both broke out into laughter and she brought forth the items from her collection and placed them on the desk between them.
He glared briefly at the [Robes of the Purifier] and [Pure Wrap] and stated, “Go ahead and sell those. I’m sure there’s a tinker or tailor out there that can repurpose those into something more useful and ideally not bearing the Purifier’s markings.”
Then he picked up the [Wings of Zeal] and seemed to stare at it for a moment and she brought out her book to display the information for the item, asking, “What’s an Augment exactly? I can kinda guess from context but wanted to make sure I’m assuming right.”
“You probably are assuming correctly,” her mentor stated before expounding, “They’re basically magic items you directly bond to your body. Not many allow for separation after the fact as this one states. Usually, they get burned off in the process of ascending to the next Caste.”
“Like tattoos?” she clarified.
“Exactly so,” he confirmed with a nod, “Just like tattoos, they can’t increase in Caste with you; so the body rejects them and they get purged during the transition. They’re usually fairly nice to have, though. Working with the body more directly than a magic item but you lose the benefit of swapping them out like you can with gear.”
“So if I want my own wings, I’ll need to be choosy about which kind 'cause I can’t just swap them out with a better pair I find later?”
Paul chuckled, “Most magical flight abilities don’t happen till later Castes but you might be able to find a glider or something. There’s a wide variety of Augments out there, though. Spendy, especially since they're basically long-lasting consumables, but that’s actually one of the perks that can come with being part of my House.”
It was her turn to raise a brow at him, “Are you trying to bribe me into signing those papers?”
He laughed at that, “I’m just pointing out that we can get you some items if you want them. I already consider you part of my House just by being my Protégé and will see you taken care of. I just hope that your protests of my spending money on you will lessen once you’re seen as a Daughter of House Wayland instead of an apprentice.”
She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as the humor died down, “I just… my mom had to pay so much for my hospital care and she worked so much to take care of me… I don’t want to be a burden to you too.”
Paul leaned forward slightly as he said, “Phoenix, I know I’ve told you before but you’re not a burden. It’s my honor, as well as my duty, to assist you in growing and cultivating your skills. I want to help you and I’m more than willing to pay for some equipment or augments or tattoos if it means keeping you and the others safe and happy.”
“Kinda hard to be happy when there’s crazy zealots, murderous nobles, chaotic evil invaders, and monsters swarming the tundra every night,” she said with a grimace.
“I know it’s been a lot of doom and gloom but I want you to remember that there have also been many happy times already. Those were almost non-existent for me in the last seven years till you dropped into my life,” he gave her a warm smile, “You gave me that happiness and I just want to help return a bit of it.”
She flushed slightly at the praise and murmured, “You’ve made me happy too,” before she would let the emotions overwhelm her, she sat up a bit straighter and cleared her throat, “Maybe, instead of buying me things, you could show me how to do some more rituals? Or we could go somewhere? Does Tulimeir have a museum? There’s still a lot I have to learn.”
Paul grinned at her and asked, “Actually, how much have you learned about flowers?”
“Flowers?” she repeated.
He lifted a green leather book emblazoned with the symbol of a sword wrapped by what looked somewhat like a thorned rose and said, “The Wayland House is a bit partial to them.”
She laughed, “Are we going to the Cultivator’s Citadel then?”
“No,” her mentor replied with a smirk, “We’re going to the roof.”
Comments
Custus
Thanks for the chapter!
T. A. Star
Quick note: new book cover is shown in the Table of Contents pinned at the top
