Loopbreaker

Having dried off and dressed as quickly as possible, Francis found himself gathered with King Baxter and his advisors.

“Sage, do you have an answer to Captain Vella’s question?” Baxter asked.

He nodded.

“While I do not yet have an answer from the gods, the ability to delay the attack would provide us more time to burn down a larger section of the forest. Are you certain the other army will not attack if we do that?”

“They have only lined up when we form an offensive attack against them for the last few months,” Stenson said. “We first received reports from our nearest towns about the sudden appearance of strange creatures, and the scouts we sent informed us of a growing army. At about the same time, we received a message from the other three kingdoms stating that they, too, had an unusual army invading their lands.

“At first, we thought one of the other Kingdoms might be invading. That hadn’t happened in over six hundred years, but we quickly realized that this army wasn’t from the nearby countries at all. We’re still unsure where it comes from but most believe they are not from our world.”

Spits and curses came from a few of the advisors, and Francis nodded.

“As we all know, there are other gods, and if they have the ability to invade our world, we pray that ours would assist us in driving them back,” Baxter said, shifting slightly atop his chair. “No answers have come from any of the priests or priestesses, and until you arrived, we were beginning to wonder if our deities had abandoned us altogether.”

“My King, they would never–” a man Francis had never seen before started.

Baxter held up a hand and cut off the man.

“Still, as Stenson has said,” Baxter continued, “they have not initiated a battle in a while. There has been discussion that they are suffering just as we are. Perhaps we could delay our attack by about a week.”

“So we’re betting on how long they might be willing to wait?” Francis asked. “And there is no knowledge about how much rest they need between casting spells?”

“It’s impossible for us to answer,” Priscilla stated. “Occasionally, they have used different spells. Yet you say they have one we haven’t seen yet. That makes it even harder for us to decide on the best course of action. While at first I found it hard to believe you could see the future, the description of the combination of spells and how the anti-magic field works isn’t something…”

“A ninth son would know?” Francis finished.

Chuckles came from a few as she grimaced.

“Yes… so that was just another reason for me to believe you,” Priscilla said. “With everything you described, down to the smallest detail, you have to speak the truth. Because of that, the discussion we have had is… different than most of the others that have taken place. Even more so, the fact that Vella’s simple question creates a situation you don’t know the outcome of makes taking a risk like this slightly better.”

He wanted to lie and say that some grand scheme would reveal itself and allow them to win, but Francis knew they would probably get crushed again by some random or unknown variable.

Each moment seemed impossible to overcome. They did something, the other side reacted, and it led to a defeat. But getting a week to train and perhaps learn more about those in the camp would help him the next time he died.

Maybe the enemy will tip their hand in some way.

“General Stenson told me that it is better to know as much information about an enemy you face,” Francis said. “Right now, you all know that they are far more prepared than you imagined. We hope for now that they slip up or show something they don’t want us to know. Perhaps the gods will reveal to me what happens next in the coming week.”

She nodded and gave him a slight bend of her neck; the first time she had done that of her own accord.

“So it’s settled, then?” Vella asked. “We wait to attack?”

“It appears so,” Baxter replied, rising from his chair. “Make sure the commanders know we aren’t attacking tomorrow. Have them keep the men ready in case the enemy does make a move. For the next seven days, I want extra guards and wards around the battlefield. I also want every inch of that forest we can burn away, turned to ash.”

“It will be done,” Stenson said.

“Dismissed.”

Francis started to move, though he stopped when he saw Baxter walking toward him.

“Wait. After everyone is gone, you and I need to chat.”

It didn’t take but a minute for those present to leave.

When the last one was gone, Baxter motioned to the chair he had been sitting on while retrieving another.

“Please join me for a moment,” the king said. “I need to ask some questions, and I hate to admit it, but I am exhausted.”

Francis sat and noticed that the fire that usually burned in Baxter’s eyes was dim, almost out. The king’s face seemed slack, and thankfully, the chair he plopped into didn’t break under his immense stature.

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“Every day, I do everything that I can, yet none of it seems to work. So many lives have been sacrificed, men like yourself. I… I told myself it was for the good of the kingdom. What else could we expect those of your birth order to offer? And yet… you, Sage Francis, sit here before me, the ninth son of a noble, offering me hope for the first time in so long.”

“Just call me Francis… It’s only fair, since I don’t want to say king every time I speak your name. Besides, I’d like to think you and I might find a way to converse as just men--not a king or the ninth son.”

Baxter smiled and then chuckled, slapping his massive palm on his knee.

“A conversation where I don’t have to worry about offending someone? How will I ever know what to say?” Baxter asked, smiling.

“That’s the thing about a conversation like this,” Francis said. “You can talk about your wife, children, how terrible your food is, or how much you wish to go hunting. If I’m being honest, the only person I’ve ever really had real conversations with is Michael. The last few years… all I had was him to talk to.”

Pain flared in his chest, not from the physical kind, but the truth that in all this world, with everything he could demand at this moment and knowing that the kingdom would give it, all he cared about was his brother.

A small smile, a real one, stayed on Baxter’s lips as he nodded slowly. “I can see the pain of the truth you just spoke written across your face. I… I know that most of what you feel and have endured is because of my family and the system we have in place. Unlike your family, the King does not allow any more children to be born after three boys. Some never allow more than two sons if the test they faced to become king was difficult enough. In the royal family, each son creates a moment of stress and potential problems as the desire for the throne grows.”

“The rumors?” Francis asked. “About how each son of the king tries to kill the other?

Baxter frowned.

“No rumors. I killed my brother. He tried to take what was mine by birth. We never had conversations like you talk about with your brother. Early on, I learned that he would be a rival and was taught that one day I would most likely have to take his life. When that day came, I didn’t hesitate.”

Francis never imagined he would feel sorry for the man who ruled the kingdom and had all of this power, but in that moment, he did.

Both sat there silently for a moment, and then Baxter let out a forced laugh.

“You know, in the kingdom of Tules, they do not care about birth order. In that harsh land, they see every life born there as a treasure. If nine sons were born to a man, each of these lives would be celebrated.”

“Why is that?” Francis asked.

“Because in that place there is no room for the weak. Only those who are strong survive. Anyone can become something if they work towards it. They don’t believe in bloodlines nor in the limited power of one's seed like we do. Even their gods are different. More… basic? Primal? I am glad they rarely invade our land like they once did. The barbarians there are some of the fiercest warriors I have ever seen. If they had the magic power like we or the Kingdom of Shenzen do, they would have destroyed every kingdom long ago.”

Francis sat there, learning more truth about the other nations in this one moment than he had in his entire life. With no real schooling or education, no one he ever met spoke about the other kingdoms beyond a curse. Even then, that was limited by older individuals.

“Just how powerful are the mages of Shenzen?” Francis asked.

Baxter laughed and put his hands together, pulling them apart about a foot.

“If our mages are considered this strong, then their mages are this powerful.”

Francis stared at the space between those massive hands, 50% farther apart than they had been a moment before.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a handful of their mages, real ones, to stand beside us. With them, we could wipe the enemy off this land in a moment.”

“But… If our mages are decently powerful, and if theirs are that strong, why haven’t they defeated the enemy they face?”

Baxter tapped his temple.

“You’re a smart one, Francis. In contrast to their mages, their warriors are weak. They are agile, preferring a hit-and-run type of fight. Those tactics don’t kill the creatures they face. Their magical power helps to overcome some of that, but if they face an enemy that isn’t affected by magic, they are basically useless.”

Francis sat there for a few moments, considering what he had just heard.

So if they haven’t defeated their enemy yet, and their magic is that strong… He just mentioned that there are enemies that aren’t affected by magic. So that means…

“Are you saying the enemy Shenzen faces is immune to their style of fighting?” Francis asked.

“Yes, I am saying that it appears each enemy the four kingdoms face seems to be tailored to fight that one. We’re more balanced, similar to the Kingdom of Baour. The reports we have shared detail how the north struggles against a foe with powerful magic and a frontline that can withstand the abuse of its warriors.

“Likewise, to the west, they are plagued by an enemy that resists their magic, able to negate whatever spells they use and thus make their warriors worthless. We face… a combination of both. Those minotaur-like ones that charge first die easily to magic, but if we use spells to kill them, we find ourselves weaker against what comes next. The wolf-kin and tiger-kin are not powerful warriors, but their numbers chew through our men. That is why we have… men like you in the early waves.

“What lies beyond,” Baxter continued, “are painful conflicts. However, the knowledge you have shared today helps us to understand that we are facing an enemy that seems designed to face us.”

“How?” Francis asked. “I mean… how can every kingdom be faced with an enemy not from here and yet knows exactly how to–”

Francis stopped talking, his mind working on what suddenly made sense.

If the lizard I killed could do what I am doing, repeating loops each death, are they able to replay each battle over and over? But if that was the case, how could we ever win? Would they not simply see the changes that occur because of what I do? Or is that…

“Francis? What is it?”

He shook his head and blinked, seeing the King leaning forward, eyes narrowed.

“I’m just wondering something, and the question I have seems… hard to describe.”

“Just say it. After all, aren’t we just two men talking?”

Laughing, Francis shrugged.

“We are but… you, Pricilla, even Stenson has said that the enemy reacts and responds to your actions. It’s like they somehow knew what was going to happen sometimes. Right?”

“Correct,” Baxter said, drawing out the word.

“What if… their gods somehow can do what our gods did for me? What if… they can see a little bit of the future?”

Slowly, Baxter’s red eyes widened, and the thought Francis had spoken seemed to hit home.

“If that is the case… then how can we ever win?”

“Let’s see what the gods reveal in the coming week,” Francis replied, trying to find some way not to cause the King any more panic. “Whatever happens, let’s trust that I’m here because our gods knew I needed to be.”

The man’s face relaxed just a little and then he clenched his jaw, nodding.

“Yes. You are right. Tomorrow, I shall visit the shrines and offer a gift for their kindness. Tell me, Francis, will you join me?”

Francis’ stomach started to form a knot, but he knew there was no way he could say no.

“I would be honored.”

“Good!” Baxter exclaimed. “Now let us turn in. There is much to do, and I must tell my wife everything!”

As the King departed, leaving Francis alone in the tent, he glanced at the table where the battlefield model sat.

Many new pieces were scattered across it, indicating areas that would be changed in the coming days.

Yet he couldn’t help but wonder… how screwed were they if his fear was correct?