Reborn From the Cosmos

Miniarc-Villains-03

Four days later, Samuel stood a few paces from the convoy of wagons, sweating profusely. He had rejected Ewan’s offer of training but found himself practicing on his own. There was little else to do besides watch the clouds and that got boring very quickly. The soldiers that weren’t watching the perimeter amused themselves with cards and board games, but there was no room for a prince in common games.

There was no reason not to practice his magic. Despite being a student of the Hall, Samuel wasn’t dedicated to the magical arts. Faced with true casters, his idle dreams of distinguishing himself through magical excellence quickly dissipated. Many underestimated the dedication it took to become a master caster. Simply learning the spells wasn’t enough. Being able to fight wasn’t enough. Reaching the greatest height of magic took imagination, the special intellect that could see something greater in the simple forces that governed the world. Obtaining the power to shape the world was straightforward, if time-consuming. What separated masters from the spell slingers of the army hurling magic at beasts was the vision to do something other than unilaterally spread destruction.

Samuel didn’t have that vision. If he did, he wouldn’t be floundering without a clear road to follow. What he could do was drill in the basics until they became second nature.

What the drills would accomplish, the prince didn’t know. He hoped that the detached focus doing routine actions inspired would spark a flash of genius. Or perhaps he would be better prepared the next time he tried to cut down a traitor aiming for his life. After his embarrassing display the previous year, Griffin Gale, the artifact his father had lent him for his protection, was taken away. He would have to rely on his own power to protect himself.

If only he could achieve power by snapping his fingers. Royal or not, he had to sweat like everyone else. Using his magic core, aside from being mentally taxing, strained the body in some indescribable way. He felt like he had done a full-body workout out but wouldn’t be getting any of the benefits. A misery that was still better than endless boredom.

“Some water, Your Highness?”

The glow faded from Samuel’s eyes as his shoulders slumped. He turned to find Orphelia standing an arm-length away, a mug in one hand and a towel over one shoulder. Somehow, the woman had no trouble ingratiating herself with the soldiers. He was glad that he didn’t have to suffer her company for long, but it was annoying that she was so easily accepted in a place barred from him.

They would let him play if he commanded it but there would be none of the  quiet conversation and mirthful laughter in the tension that followed.

Samuel motioned for the water, draining the small cup in three gulps. She tossed him the towel without prompting and he wiped his face before muttering his thanks.

“Just doing my duty as a loyal subject of the crown.”

“Of course. Did you need something?”

“I came to inform you that the scouts have returned.”

Samuel walked off and Orphelia fell in-step behind him. “You’re actually making yourself useful.”

“I aim to please.”

“I’ll never believe that.”

“I never said I aim to please you. Sir Reed looked upset when the scouts were reporting to him. If I had to guess, I’d say he wants to extend our delay and you are the only one who can talk him out of it.”

Samuel sped up. He understood the need for caution but if they were delayed any longer, he could kiss having a decent selection of classes goodbye. It was stupid to ride into danger but to avoid the possibility of danger out of fear would end with him never leaving the palace. What was the point of being escorted by a cadre of soldiers and three royal knights if a few saboteurs paralyzed them?

He found Ewan near the front of the convoy, speaking with two men seated on the driver’s bench of the first carriage. All three wore tight grimaces as they spoke in low whispers. There was an air about them that warned against interrupting. Samuel stepped right past it. He was a prince. Nothing could bar him, not even quiet expectations.

The men quieted as he approached, the scouts straightening up while Ewan bowed. “Your Highness. I was just about to—"

“Do you intend to delay us further?”

The knight glanced at Orphelia, who returned his stare with a smile. He didn’t sigh, that would be unbecoming, but Samuel was sure he saw reluctance in the man’s expressive eyes. “These two had ridden themselves to exhaustion. Would you give them leave to retire? I can brief you on the situation alone.”

Another favor. And perhaps an attempt to improve Samuel’s reputation among the soldiers. His strained relationship with the men had to be obvious over the last few days. Samuel hadn’t thought twice about the exhausted scouts. It would have been poor form for them to walk away from a royal without being dismissed. The soldiers’ opinion of him wouldn’t have been improved if he unintentionally forced men that had pushed themselves to the limit to complete a mission to attend him.

“Go on. Get some rest.”

“Thank you, highness,” one of them said quickly, nudging the second when the other man took too long.

Ewan waited until they were out of sight and subtly checked the surroundings for eavesdroppers before continuing. “I don’t plan on delaying us further, Your Highness.”

“Good. We—"

“I mean to turn us around.”

“…is that some kind of joke?”

“No. Those men you sent to rest? They entered the city and found that the damaged wall is the least of the damage. A large-scale battle took place and the damage is catastrophic. The city is a ruin.”

“Is the Hall alright?!”

Ewan frowned. “Prince Samuel, there are bigger concerns. One of the major cities of the kingdom has been attacked. Thousands are dead, thousands more displaced from their homes. The ramifications of this event will affect Harvest on every level. Do you understand how badly the economy will be affected by the loss of trade? The political ramifications of panicking nobles making rash decisions? There will be chaos.”

Samuel briefly felt chastised, but he rejected the feeling. Those were terrible things but nothing that affected him directly. He wasn’t the heir who would eventually have to concern himself with cleaning up everyone’s messes. He was an acolyte. Why shouldn’t the fate of the Hall concern him most? “Will that chaos extend to the Hall?”

“…no. The guilds were the target of the attack.”

“Then you know who’s responsible?”

“Everyone knows who’s responsible. Lourianne Tome.”

Samuel stared at the man, his mind slow to comprehend the information it was given.

Orphelia was much faster to respond. “Just her? Was any other group involved?”

“The scouts weren’t in the city for long, but they talked to multiple sources. Refugees, hunters, and acolytes. All said the conflict was just between the Tome clan under Lourianne Tome and the guilds. No one else was mentioned.”

“But to turn a city to rubble…succubi are meant to be subtle threats.”

“The witnesses say that a great, purple beast was the source of the destruction.”

“Another elemental? My, she’s really flexing her skill.”

“Wait!” Samuel interrupted. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Denying reality isn’t going to help,” Orphelia said chidingly.

“…for the sake of argument, I will set aside common sense and accept the premise that the Tome woman bested a city full of experienced fighters and decimated Quest and is still running amok. The Grand Hall is still standing. Clearly, she has enough sense not to challenge the Harvest Hero and the most elite casters in the kingdom. I don’t see why you object to going to the Hall.”

“It’s not the Hall I object to. It’s the danger of reaching it that worries me.”

“You think she will attempt to kill us?”

“It’s a possibility—"

“It’s ridiculous!” Samuel snapped. “Perhaps I have you confused for someone else. A royal knight would be eager to strike down a threat against the crown.”

Ewan’s frown turned into a scowl. “My duty—"

“Is to see me safely to the Hall. So far, the only thing preventing you from doing that is you.” Samuel straightened, a rare moment when he appreciated his large frame. “Don’t make me order you.”

The knight bowed his head. Samuel wondered if it was to hide his reaction. “Very well, your highness. We will set out first thing tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Samuel stomped away, eager to escape with his victory. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Orphelia’s spoke up, revealing that she had followed him. “A splendid tantrum.”

“You will not mock my decision,” he growled. “This is my life and I plan to live it. Ewan—Sir Reed is capable. There are two other royal knights accompanying us, along with a dozen soldiers. If all of that isn’t enough to keep me safe, I may as well never leave the capital. Or my bedroom. Saints, maybe I’m not even safe at the seat of my father’s power. Perhaps the monster under the bed will eat me.” He scoffed. “Besides, that woman has no interest in me.”

“Are you sure? The two of you didn’t part on good terms.”

“Hah! I’m sure she dislikes me but enough to go out of her way to target me? She went out of her way to avoid me before, practically begged me to stay away from her. When I refused, her wife beat me senseless. I’d say any grudge between us has been settled.”

“But what if it isn’t? Shall I tell you what the honorable and prideful Sir Reed hesitated to say? If she decides you still owe her a debt, he isn’t sure he can protect you. Why would he be? She took on a small army and emerged victorious. Royal knights or not, that kind of power is nothing to turn your nose up at. You play a dangerous game, prince.”

“Perhaps, but it is my game to play and I will not be ruled by fear. Stay here if you’re afraid. Tomorrow, I plan to get on with my life.”