244 Interlude: Aftermath
Clifford stared out his window at the pillar of fire that had appeared in the middle of the city over the last few days. Never would he have guessed it would come to this. He had retired, picked up a casual hobby, and sold his little statues in the market purely to make some coin on the side.
Now, after a fateful encounter, everything had changed, and he didn't know how he felt about it all, nor had he fully comprehended just what it all meant. He thought his class evolving to Sculptor of Rebirth would be the extent of things, and was still coming to terms with that, but the meeting he just had with the Queen, of all people, had really thrown his life into turmoil.
His wife entered the room, sitting next to him and taking his hand in her own.
"How did it go?" Valorie asked.
"I don't know," Clifford answered honestly.
Valorie patiently waited for her husband to tell her what had happened. She knew him well enough that if she were patient, he'd explain it all.
With a sigh, Clifford began. "It started simply enough. The queen has requested a new statue when Crisplet returns, this time in the centre of the capital."
Valorie nodded. "That was expected. We both knew more statues were coming after the reception."
"It's what followed, though, that has me shaken. We've been given a new residence, a new position in the capital, as our family has been moved to noble status. The first of the new Mason house, we've not even told the kids what has happened, and they'll see it on the system first," Clifford explained.
Valorie nodded again. She had suspected this outcome would arrive and had even told him it would be a real possibility.
"But that's not the part that is really bothering me. It's what's in the book I was given," he said, pulling it from the side table next to him.
It was a large, leather-bound, old tome. It had clearly seen some use.
"This is the history of the royal family and their bloodline, starting with the first, the individual who received a feather just the same as I have," he said, clearly struggling.
Valorie again decided to just be patient and let him take his time.
"It's said the feather he was given not only protected the king's life but extended it, and this was then passed down to his direct descendants to a lesser effect," Clifford explained.
It only took Valorie a second to see what was bothering him in this situation, as she held his hand tighter.
"We still have many years together. We can't worry about this now," Valorie tried to reassure him.
"He lived to four hundred and sixty," Clifford said, looking into her eyes now.
She couldn't hide the wince. Even if she lived her best life, she'd maybe get just past one hundred.
They sat in silence before a smile came across her face, an idea clearly forming.
Clifford spotted it instantly and knew that look. "What are you scheming?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking maybe now would be a good time to share my painting with the world. That nice man from the manor, Archie, is visiting later this afternoon. Do you think perhaps he would like some art for the house?" she asked happily.
Clifford couldn't help but smile. He'd been telling her forever to share her paintings. He even wanted to sell them at the market next to the statues, but Valorie had always refused.
"That's a great idea," Clifford said happily.
He'd need to really think about how he could solve this problem; he wasn't about to spend three hundred years without his wife by his side.
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***
It had been close to a week since the demons retreated. Roland had been one of the first scout groups to inspect what had happened, and seeing the giant tears leading to the demonic plane was something else.
The entire army had moved back inside those tears, except what looked to be a small elite force who were standing guard. Only one commander attempted to assault the rift itself. He and his squad were cut down so quickly, it looked like toddlers fighting warriors.
If they had such powerful individuals, why didn't they use them before? What were we fighting for?
It wasn't the only major event to occur either. One evening, when he was sitting on the rocks observing the demonic forces at the tear, the sky lit up in burning orange as a pillar of fire erupted far in the distance.
This was the only time in nearly a week the demonic forces standing guard moved. Outside of the one fight, they had been motionless, standing guard, never changing shift, never eating, just standing there like deadly statues.
Until the fire came, a giant pillar of flame that lit up the night sky; for how far away it was, it looked incredibly powerful.
All the demons raised a shield and took a tight perimeter around the tear itself, clearly trying to protect it from something.
But what?
What was happening back at home?
***
Marcus moved across the countryside at a blistering speed. He had the best Drakhal the palace had access to, and it was built for one thing: speed.
Just before he left, he got the reports stating that the war had stopped, that the demons had retreated. It was one thing to hear it from an old monster at the dinner party, but to hear it from his own messenger made it very real.
It made no sense.
If they were truly our allies, then why has there never been any attempt at peace? How would he even convince them now if they had retreated?
His trip nearly came to an abrupt end, however, when the sky lit up like daylight as a burning column of fire erupted from where the capital should have been.
He pulled a pendant out of his pocket. If the city were under attack or his wife needed assistance, it would flash, and all the royal family would know to return.
But as he stared at it, it never lit up.
The fire didn’t subside either, leaving him with a dilemma. Did he return anyway, just in case something was wrong, or continue with his journey where he knows there might be a window to settle the demonic conflict that had been running for centuries?
He had read that book he was given cover to cover, and it was a hard pill to swallow. Then Sylverith requested… no, demanded a meeting to discuss it, where she went over the history of her species and what the demons and humans combined had managed.
It was an eye-opening experience.
He never realised how skewed his own history actually was, but he was committed to not repeating the same mistakes.
Letting out a deep breath, Marcus steeled himself.
Muttering, “I trust Amber. If she needed my help, she would call.”
He pushed forward to Portland.
***
Archie thought he could finally relax when the Lord left for his trip, but how wrong he'd been. Ever since the tree exploded in fire, the crowd that had gathered outside the house was immense, and no matter what the guards did, they could only keep them back so far.
Queen Amber floated the idea of sealing the upper noble district, but it could be seen as gatekeeping the phoenix from the people. In the end, even Archie had to admit it wasn't an ideal situation.
Liam had done his best to help by having a permanent detachment of royal guards here, but it did not stop someone attempting to enter daily. Luckily, Sylverith's wards were doing their job perfectly, though he doubted she made them with the intention of them being tested several times a day, so hopefully they would hold up.
With Micca, George and Darren staying at the shop now to avoid the crowd daily, he had also sent the house staff to their homes for now if they wanted to, and only Cameron and Tony decided to stay behind, both just increasing their martial training with the guards.
Archie himself had taken to leaving the house when he could after completing his daily chores, enjoying some respite from the chaos, and in doing so found he enjoyed chatting to the sculptor Clifford. It was nice to have someone his own age whom he wasn't there to serve. Unfortunately, though, he was going through just as much chaos as Archie.
Though it was far more manageable and allowed Archie to focus his attention and skills on helping someone rather than worrying about the house.
Clifford was lucky in some regard, though. If the nobles found out the real reason he was being promoted, he'd be swamped by visitors, but Queen Amber had allowed him to address it in his own time, and Alira had made sure everyone's focus was elsewhere.
In good news, though, the class evolution he got was truly amazing and entirely unexpected.
Mythic Seneschal. The most notable change that came with it, outside of receiving an extra two points of charisma every level, was being able to maintain his composure through any aura. He had noticed, which made him wonder if the Lord had something like this? The auras never seemed to affect him.