Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Daniel’s gaze is three days past having glazed over like a frosted window.

It’s not literally true, of course, but it feels that way since he requested some work to keep him distracted. Zuzia’s conversation with him earlier was more tempered than he expected. He trusted that she wouldn’t start a rampage and destroy the Citadel or anything, but he did expect her to cling to her emotions for a lot longer.

Sad as it is to say, though, neither of them knew anyone in Urflasdat. It doesn’t make it okay, and Daniel was already thinking of it constantly, but Zuzia’s stance comes from the bare bones morals of the situation, rather than an attachment to any specific life that was lost that day.

What he’s holding in his hands and doing his best to review are documents explaining the logistics of what the Fievegal is offering in aid to Ahmpur and the Empire to clean up and stabilize Urflasdat. Prices have gone up on grain and salt, specifically, because of the increased hazards inflicted upon merchants due to displaced people of the area, some of whom have started to turn to banditry, and the monsters that were being drawn in force towards the mana fire, only to lose the bait and begin to wander and attack.

Sundenelle, Aramellianna, Vaergraes, Hekate, and Erimaya are seated at their own desks that were brought into Daniel’s new room, since his old one was destroyed. The Grand Duchess senior is reviewing anything to hand to Daniel, and anything he reviews and finds satisfactory goes to Hekate for final signature. Erimaya is helping Hekate read and write in between signatures, since the feldrok teen can read well enough for most circumstances, but there are many words she’s still not familiar with that appear in official requests and documents, which are now flooding in at rates that they didn’t expect.

Sundenelle says as she’s reviewing a document of her own, “Daniel, Hekate, I’d like to adjust the amount of lumber we’re sending. It seems we have some individuals buying up the Imperial supply in order to boost paper production.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” asks Hekate honestly. “I can’t count this high, but I feel like I’ve been signing for a loooot of money being spent right now. Do we even have this much money?” She looks at Aramellianna, and the brunette matron smiles softly.

“Our finances are stable for now, your Greatness. Between the enhanced magic crystals, Jeavana’s work with the pearls, and the exports of various hand tools, we are still steadily increasing our coffers faster than we are spending right now.”

Sundenelle then explains, “The problem with paper prices being driven down is a rise in misinformation, as unauthorized news sources will be able to more easily produce fake newspapers. Because the price of our printing paper is usually fairly high, relatively speaking, it lends the illusion of legitimacy to these sources that can be difficult to squeeze out of the information market.”

“State run media will always end up a failure,” replies Daniel as he massages his temple. He has to set the sheet that he was studying down, having been pulled out of his reading numbness for a moment by the conversation.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” replies Sundenelle. “The trusted news sources must be verified by government officials, or there will be no control over their lies.”

“The truth is more sincere than fiction,” retorts Daniel politely, trying to give her a smile not of condescension, but that he’s speaking from a thousand years in the future, in a loose sense.

“What would you suggest in alternative?” asks Aramellianna curiously. “The Empire is famous the world over for its production of printing methods, and though the Imperial Ministers don’t directly mandate the publisher’s statements, they must hold certifications of authenticity.”

“I am able to answer that,” replies Daniel. “But, are there any other reasons the price of paper might be problematic? It’s likely only going to bounce back until a more efficient method of production is achieved anyways, which I’d like for us to get ahead of if we can, but I don’t know much about paper-making in the first place.”

“Well… Counterfeiting and forgeries will likely see a rise… I’ve also read that deforestation can cause issues if done too drastically, but my grandfather implemented lumber limits. If the Fievegal continues to flood Imperial territories, or otherwise pushes the lumber towards other uses, we may see a downturn in our industrial capacity.”

Daniel nods. “You’re probably talking about a dust bowl. Because forests tend to have minimal ground cover plants and shrubs, due to the trees shading anything below them, once the trees are gone, the soil is vulnerable to the wind, becoming long-range dust storms.” Daniel looks around briefly, which takes larger motions than it used to since he no longer has the right side of his vision. He grumbles dryly, “Where are the elves and dragons when we need them…?”

“I… believe you are telling the truth,” remarks Vaergraes, the oldest person present. “I wasn’t sure of the cause, other than the Devourer itself, but even the regions that hadn’t been fully covered by the Devourer’s tendrils would become dry, and during windstorms, major clouds of dirt or dust would make evacuations or attacks far more difficult. I… I indirectly assumed this was some power of the Devourer, and didn’t have the time or focus to study it more deeply…”

Daniel nods. “It was cows that did it on Earth, specifically.” Everyone is surprised by this, and Daniel explains, “Cows and other livestock grazed on the grasses of a large open plain so thoroughly, that the winds that swept through the relatively flat lands eventually became a breathing hazard, and ended up killing a lot of the cows and livestock. Not to mention the people who starved because their farm pretty much died.”

The group is grimly silent, and the mechanic chuckles softly. “Sorry, this was long before I was ever born, but it is a history lesson for my country.” Daniel then says to Sundenelle, “I plan to make paper almost as cheap as grass. I won’t divulge my plan just yet, but you bring up a decent point about tabloids gaining traction if it becomes easy for them to print their stories, as well as the counterfeits. Still, you’d be surprised what the value of authenticity is. So, we’ll shift the means by which people receive news.” Daniel smirks, adding, “They won’t even need to be literate. That said, cheapening paper is one of the steps I intend to fix that problem if we can.” He then looks at the document in his hands once more, noticing Bellphine when she pours a cup of tea for him. She smiles and offers it to him, even though he’s seated in his bed still.

The mechanic accepts it and takes a sip while Hekate asks, “So… Should we… reduce lumber?”

Daniel nods once, still sipping his tea. Hekate looks at Sundenelle, who is thankful. “Yes. The stockpiling isn’t illegal, of course, but because of the Fievegal’s sudden spike in supply hitting the Imperial markets, I’d like to try to keep the Empire’s own lumber supply stable, or the price could become erratic once the Fievegal’s support is no longer needed.”

“If that’s the case,” starts Vaergraes. “Could we divert the lumberjacks, those who are willing to take the jobs of course, towards our mining efforts? We were successful in capturing an old mine that was in the most recent evacuation zone, and now that the Devourer’s remains are decaying, we should be able to safely mine large supplies of iron and silver ores. One of the mithril mines that I know about is still buried, but I suspect we’ll have more use for iron right now.”

Hekate flops her head onto her desk, groaning out, “Yesss… That sounds… reasonable to me…”. The dramatic reaction gets a giggle from Erimaya, and the young Princess pets her raven-haired friend’s head. Hekate groans with her tail and ears drooped as lifelessly as they’ll go. “Danielll… Why do I have to do this? Can’t I go kill monsters and stuff?” She perks up, saying, “Actually, what about that Yaulaster guy? Don’t we need to stop him from using the void artillery again? Let’s go catch him.” Hekate jumps up as if the adventure is going to start right this second, and the eldest three women all sigh together.

Vaergraes grumbles, “Hekate… It’s ‘Yaulander’. Yaulander kos Strylaph, Grand Prince of the Empire. You need to remember the names of at least the highest ranking members of other nations. Especially your allies.”

“But…!” exclaims Hekate, her ears drooping down to the sides. She glances at Daniel worriedly, more concerned with the void artillery than aristocratic etiquette.

Daniel explains, “The problem is evidence, Sweetpea. He has as much evidence to claim we did it as we have to claim he did it.”

“As in, none,” clarifies Aramellianna directly.

“The men and women of the Grand Principality make up about one sixth of the Empire’s total military forces,” adds Sundenelle. “Even if I wanted to try to capture him, he can likely muster a nearly-impenetrable defense. And, that’s assuming these actions don’t lead to civil war.”

Hekate saddens, and Erimaya pets her forearm. With this, the feldrok sovereign sits back down and slumps back in her chair. “I hate this… What good is being the strongest if I can’t do anything anyways?”

“The right way is rarely the easy way,” replies Vaergraes sympathetically.

There’s a knock on the door, and Captain Muindis checks the door. He volunteered for guard duty alongside Sir Helbeit, and his own promotion to Dragonslayer is in the works. Of course, Helbeit and Resken, as the first two official ‘Dragonslayers’ in title will challenge him to a test, but it’s doubtful any veteran Stalvaltan Guardsman would fail the basic physical parts of the test.

As Muindis is answering the door, Hekate grumbles, “Why can’t someone else do this stuff. I’m just signing paperwork, anyways!”

“You’re supposed to be reading it,” replies Daniel.

“So!? I’m obviously bad at it. Ryuo! Where’s Ryuo? Let’s make her do the paperwork!”

Aramellianna replies as she taps a few papers on the desk to stack them neatly together, and then she stands up to walk them to Daniel. “Your Greatness, it is the highest duty and responsibility of the Empress to have final say on all matters of her Empire. For the Fievegal, that privilege falls to you.”

As she’s signing another document carefully and slowly, Hekate grumbles in retort, “Some ‘privilege’. I’d rather be punched in the chest by Zuzia again.” She then perks up as she finishes the sheet, and Erimaya reviews it simply to critique Hekate’s handwriting. “Daniel! I’m too young for this. Let’s make someone else the Soveregian Empress. Or you! You’re smart, Daniel! We’ll just make you the Soveregian. Everyone seems to think you’re in charge anyways, and I’m perfectly happy with that.”

Erimaya giggles and whispers, “Sovereign, Hekate. Sovereign.”

“What’d I say?” replies the feldrok teen.

Before that question is addressed, though, Daniel retorts, “It’s too late, Hekate. You’re officially the Sovereign Founding Empress of the Fievegal, the highest ruler in the land.”

“What? Says who!?”

“Says you, you little dummy.”

“Wha-!?” blurts out Hekate. She looks at Erimaya, and Daniel sighs. “Four documents ago. You just signed your formal Declaration of Sovereignty and Imperial Authority over the Fievegal.”

Hekate’s mouth hangs open for a long moment. She suddenly scrambles through the documents she just finished signing, and Erimaya presents the one in question with ease. The feldrok girl snatches it and reads over it carefully. It’s several pages, but includes things definitively laying out the structure of the Fievegal’s Empresses, their authority and rank, and Hekate’s unilateral power to add or subtract Empresses formally and at will.

Aramellianna, Vaergraes, and Sundenelle chuckle at each other. The document is essentially unprecedented in all of their lifetimes, since the Grand Zenkon Empire has been around for generations, Vaergraes was only ever a de facto ‘Queen’ of the Demon Covenant, and Mornistae was well established and has several generations of history under its current Royal Dynasty before Aramellianna married Yaandrestarr kos Stalvaltan.

Muindis approaches, saying politely, “Pardon me, your Greatness, your Graces. There are two visitors at the door requesting entry. The first is Empress Doephluev, and the other is an Imperial messenger. His identification and paperwork checks out.”

“Doephluev didn’t just walk in?” asks Vaergraes skeptically.

Daniel replies, “She’s being a good girl to avoid drawing Ryuo’s attention again. Let them both in.”

Muindis nods, and Helbeit opens the door, informing the two as the Captain returns to his post.

Doephluev approaches Daniel, specifically, and her belly is noticeable as she walks with a slightly cautious pace. She seems to be having some complications, but she claims to be checking in with the medical staff regularly.

The messenger approaches the group of Empresses, but Bellphine receives the message, taking it to a pedestal nearby where it can be scanned for any sort of spells through the golems of the Citadel.

Doephluev greets everyone, saying, “Good morning, everyone. Hekate. Congratulations on your position becoming official.”

“You knew about this!?” asks Hekate with shock.

“Of course. I was warned at length not to try any funny business about the hierarchy of Empresses when it comes to legalities.” She cups her cheek, adding in a feigned ‘forlorn’ voice, “I am only allowed to serve my rightful place temporarily, and I can’t make formal changes without your signature.” Vaergraes scoffs, and Doephluev finishes approaching Daniel, leaning close to kiss him. “Darling. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, thank you,” replies Daniel with a gentle smile. She has more of the laugur decoction, and she sets it on the counter. But, she also pulls a small piece of parchment from between her breasts. She explains softly, “Daniel, I still have my cover, thanks to Ryuo, but it’s very dangerous. You should only read this when you know it isn’t watching.”

Daniel’s eyes momentarily narrow. Now that he thinks about it, his dreams have been relatively ‘normal’. But, if what she’s handing him is tied to the Abyssal Feldrok, then it’s likely something to do with Thymeria. He only has the peripherals of his left eye now, but he notices Hekate’s ears perk up as she stares at them, listening intently.

Doephluev looks only slightly, not making it obvious to anyone else, but essentially confirming she realizes it as well.

The mechanic asks, “Are you or we in danger?”

The archoneldwyn Empress, which seems to have been made official without protest by Hekate’s many signatures recently, grins. “When are we not, Darling?” She stands up straight, saying, “Ryuogriar is running me ragged with administrative duties, so I should return. If you need anything,...”

“Wait,” replies Daniel as he catches her forearm. She stops, smiling at him.

“Darling! I’m happy to, but with all of them watching?”

“Ugh…” groans Aramellianna with faint disgust, and Vaergraes shakes her head as she continues her own review of logistical documents from the western side of things. Shek and Skloe primarily run domestic affairs around the Citadel, since the population is dominated by goblins and growing. Sundenelle is reading the message from the Empire, and Hekate scowls at the pseudo-elf.

“Very funny, Doephluev.”

“I wasn’t joking,” replies the archoneldwyn. She asks ‘curiously’ as she looks around, “Where’s Yaulwembor, by the way?”

Daniel is quiet for a moment, and everyone looks up to then look at him when they notice the pause. He clears his throat, saying, “She’s probably napping in the sun.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Hmm. Interesting…” muses the devious woman with a smirk. But, Daniel has something more important to ask her anyways, so he leaves it be.

“Let me ask you, though… Is there any way to… determine if it’s still there?”

Doephluev cocks her head. She tries to figure out what he means, since he wouldn’t refer to Yaulwembor as ‘it’, and he’s usually not vague about anything for no reason.

Her eyes widen as she connects the dots, and she nods. “Ah… Well… I can make a suggestion, though…” She looks over her shoulder at no one in particular this time.

Hekate, sensing that there’s something wrong, immediately sits up and asks with her big ears rigid, “What?”

Doephluev doesn’t respond right away, which prompts Hekate to stand up and ask again, “What? What is it?”

The archoneldwyn looks down for a moment, and she replies, “We… could use the monster repellant Senn used…”

Daniel nods, knowing the implications. If the Abyssal Feldrok is still attached to him via the curse, then Senn’s warding spell known as ‘Holy Ground’ will cause the human immense pain as it tries to force the curse off of him, or otherwise reacts violently with the eldritch lurker’s magic.

The unorthodox Emperor thinks for a moment, and Hekate asks, “Wait… If you’re talking about the lurker thing, can’t we just have Yaulwembor check?”

Daniel and Doephluev both slump their shoulders with defeated smiles that they share before Daniel answers. “She didn’t mention it when she was helping me avoid the pain, but I didn’t think to ask. I don’t know if she’ll know what I’m talking about, though.”

“Well, it’s better than blasting you with Senn’s magic!” complains the feldrok Empress. “Right?” She looks at the others for support.

Vaergraes nods in agreement, “It is the safer option, especially with your own stamina drained by Doephluev’s concoction.”

“I’ve carefully controlled the doses,” retorts the archoneldwyn defensively. “I can’t help it that it’s keeping him lethargic, but when he does finally get to rest peacefully without it, he’ll probably… Well…” She rubs her belly as she looks away with a smug smirk on her face.

“I think that’ll have to wait,” states Sundenelle as she speaks up, having just finished reading the message she received. She looks around herself at each person before looking at Daniel.

“An assassination attempt was made on Grand Prince Yaulander. It appears to have been made on the final day of the mana fire, right before… the nuke. It sounds like a golem was disguised using illusion magic, and it was able to engage a handful of knights, nearly killing Yaulander, but was disabled. If it was on that day, and it truly was a golem…”

“It must have lost power during the anti-magic waves,” murmurs Vaergraes as she thinks.

“If all of that is true, what manner of concern is it of ours?” asks Aramellianna. “Other than the attempt failed, I doubt anyone would have attempted such a thing…” The Grand Duchess Senior trails off for a moment, and everyone looks at Doephluev.

The archoneldwyn gasps. “M-Me!? Why do you think I did it!?”

“You were an assassin,” retorts Vaergraes instantly.

“Your morals are… questionable at times, your Grace,” adds Aramellianna.

Daniel asks seriously, “Doephluev…?”

She whirls nervously. “D-Darling?”

The mechanic studies her with his surviving eye, and he asks carefully, so as to not sound threatening. “Did you send a golem?”

Doephluev maintains her innocent-looking facade for a moment longer, and she straightens up. She says seriously and coldly, “I will explain what happened if Xyreko promises no retaliation.”

Summoned by her name, the chief golem appears in a flicker of light. “I am aware of the assassination attempt, as the Zuzia decoy was attacked and separated from Yaulander for a time. However, the collaborator who would dare defy my orders remains unknown at present. I have a very short list of individuals who it could have been, your Grace. I will have answers in time.”

Doephluev says nothing, since Xyreko made her stance clear.

But, Daniel asks, “Doephluev… If you sent assets to the Grand Principality… You know how precarious it is.”

She holds her tongue even still, though her eyes do seem to be holding back tears.

Daniel takes a breath and sighs. “Xyreko, whoever conspired with Doephluev, you’re not to harm them.”

“Daniel! I explicitly forbade…”

“I know. But, what’s done is done. I’m not going to lie, I was secretly hoping Neith would have found an opportunity, since the aftermath would potentially be easier to deal with. Though… I don’t really want to martyr him either…” Daniel slumps back against his pillows, letting out a frustrated sigh that echoes what Hekate was grumbling about earlier.

I’m in way over my head…

Xyreko is silent and unmoving for a moment, and Dopehluev keeps her head held high.

“Fine…” agrees the golem Prime Minister. “I will not dismiss whoever it was. So, tell me, who disobeyed my orders?”

Doephluev shakes her head. “No. I said I would explain what happened, not who was involved.”

“Doephluev…” warns Daniel.

“My co-conspirator is loyal to the feldroks, which includes Hekate, and to that end, provided assistance. The goal was not to kill the Grand Prince, but instead, Count Sharnach kos Baumalde, in order to prevent his Majesty from being able to construct more void artilleries.”

“He’s the one who worked with Ahok, isn’t he?” asks Daniel.

“Correct,” replies Doephluev.

Aramellianna further explains, “The Baumalde family excels at producing skilled mages in their aristocratic bloodline, but their land has always been rather restricted in resources, leaving them rather limited overall. I don’t know enough about it, since it was the Stalvaltan name that helped Wenlianna, though her talent made any other choice questionable when her mentor personally recommended her appointment to the Court Magic Artisan. I didn’t dig into it any further, but I assumed upon learning of her appointment, Lady Ahok had an important backer that was able to get her appointed, being… the half-goblin that she is. I mean no offense, of course, but my own acceptance does not reflect the majority of the nobility on this continent, let alone in Mornistae.”

“The void attack spell isn’t well known on the continent as a whole,” explains Vaergraes. “The only one I’ve ever known to be capable of it, before Ahok and Yaulwembor, was Senn. She used it to destroy a stronghold that was a staging area for attacks on a major city where refugees were being sheltered. One more step on the chain…” She strokes her chin with her left hand. “For a human to be knowledgeable…”

“I thought Ahok said she made the void artillery, though,” points out Hekate.

“Either way, he worked on it with her,” explains Doephluev. “The chance that he could achieve the same results eventually was unacceptable to me.” She pouts quietly, “But, it seems the mission was a failure.”

Sundenelle scans the letter again, saying as she does, “Yaulander seems to be convinced he was the target, and the message I received makes no mention of Baumalde.”

“If Baumalde was with the Grand Prince, he likely defected,” suggests Aramellianna. “I had the political strength and financial capital to break away from Mornistae, and the Fievegal further reinforced the Stalvaltan position. The Baulmaude Countship does not have such leeway.”

“So, the Grand Prince is… what…? Hiding a foreign noble?” asks Sundenelle. She thinks about it, and it seems to make sense that Yaulander, of all people, might be capable of it. The problem is, how did he intend to keep Baumalde’s associates quiet? His family? Anyone who might recognize him?

Daniel sighs. “Anything else you need to share, Doephluev?”

She gasps, placing a hand on her chest. “You act as if I am some clandestine rogue, Darling! I apologize for taking matters into my own hands, but…”

“War crime aside,” grumbles Daniel. “What’s the Grand Prince doing with this information?” He looks at Sundenelle.

“From what my informants have gathered, it sounds like he’s trying to confirm the golem’s origins, as well as trying to control it. To no avail, so far, but he brought in the Imperial Archmagus, one of the highest ranking scholars in the Empire, and aside from our two elven companions, possibly one of the most knowledgeable mages in the world.”

Daniel nods at this information. “So, he doesn’t have enough evidence yet to condemn the Fievegal. What about Zuzia’s decoy?”

“It seems her cover is still holding,” replies Xyreko. “Though, with the heightened state of alert that the Grand Principality is under now…” Even though the golem’s robot-like body can’t emote, it’s clear she turns a fiery glare at Doephluev just from the movement and posture she uses. “It will be difficult to launch a successful attack on the Grand Prince for the foreseeable future.”

“The smarter thing is still to get him to destroy himself,” replies Daniel. “But, that will be difficult as well, if what Zuzia has mentioned is true, and that he can and will weaponize his own apparent incompetence to make his enemies lower their guard.”

“I’ll keep tabs on Yaulander,” replies Sundenelle. “But… please don’t try to assassinate any more of my vassals…” She massages her own temples, adding grumpily, “Even if you weren’t targeting Yaulander, it was going to be enough of a headache preparing for the wedding before he had an excuse. He will not remain quiet now.”

“Then, we just have to show them why it’s a good idea to be our friends instead of our enemies!” replies Hekate proudly.

“You can’t just attack and invade everyone,” retorts Erimaya from behind her.

The feldrok Empress’s tail twitches, and her expressive ears move a few times before straightening back up.

Hekate whirls and points at her best friend, saying confidently, “Not with conquest! I meant we’ll show them how much happier and wealthier they can be if they side with us! And everyone else can just keep their stinky butts… um… stinky.”

Everyone else chuckles, but Daniel replies with his tea cup held high, “Hear, hear.”

“Hee hee hee!” giggles Hekate happily with a big grin, her tail swishing giddily back and forth.

It’s easy to say, of course.

But, it’s a solid first step to take towards a simple goal they all share.

***

Archmagus Baelok has studied magic for generations. His forebears were gifted with a great deal of magical potential, but as the pure-blooded elves faded from society, only the mixed descendants remained, such as his mother, who ended up in slavery after incurring a massive debt.

Baelok has no meaningful memories of his mother, since she was a slave, and, for better or worse, he was the son of a high ranking aristocrat. He only knows about his mother at all because of the wife of the man who sired him, who constantly reminded him of his heritage in order to hurt him. She loved to remind Baelok that he would never be her real son.

The sage massages his eyes for a moment as he smirks at that random thought. When she needed healing from a terrible, skin-rotting disease, Baelok’s father had already passed away, and they had no contacts.

Of course, Baelok got to enjoy watching her die, knowing that he could have saved her at any time.

And, he told her as much right at the end. He still savors the pitiful begging and cries of his half-siblings as they pleaded for their mother’s life, offering him wealth and all the land they had to give.

He has no idea what became of them or their descendants after that. He was already well on his way to becoming a mage at the Imperial Institute of Magery, and he worked his way up on a long journey that brought him back to become the Archmagus of the Institute.

Of course, with Grand Prince Yaulander holding so much political sway within the Empire, he is sometimes subject to the whims of royalty.

In spite of that, it does afford him the opportunity to study magical devices and apparatuses that require skillful applications of magic to deconstruct, lest the spell components be destroyed and lost forever.

In this case, it’s a golem that seems to have been self-powered, but he can’t identify a single spell that actually holds it together. It’s either using a type of magic that Baelok is unfamiliar with, or it has some sort of powerful concealment on it that he can’t break through, in spite of casting every form of dispel, drain, illusion break, and clairvoyance spell he knows.

It truly does appear to be nothing more than a suit of armor no living being could wear, because there is no space within for a body to fit, let alone openings for their arms and legs to connect the limbs. The armor is an archaic alloy that is no longer used due to the scarcity of the primary metal, which is described as a blue-grey element in its natural form, which only ever went to auction once in Baelok’s long lifetime, when the feldroks were still present in the world’s economy.

As he continues to think with his eyes closed, massaging the bridge of his nose, Baelok murmurs, “I could argue that this metal alone means it has to be associated with the feldroks, but I don’t know how many people today know that much about them…” The half-elf scoffs, pondering the decline of his own people. He says humorously, “If it weren’t for Hekate, the Citadel’s mysteries would almost certainly be forgotten entirely… At least by the human-kin.”

He opens his eyes, ready to tackle his next strategy, and he freezes. A work bench is behind him, and the exit is far away.

And, in front of Baelok, there stands a mana-powered, machine-like being that managed to kill several highly-trained Grand Principality knights, more soldiers, and nearly assassinated the Grand Prince himself. Or, so the story goes.

The golem stands a head taller than a typical human, and its faintly-bronzed-looking alloy armor is illuminated by a glow that follows every line and seam in the armor that Baelok couldn’t identify. Faintly-glowing mana streams between the joints of every segment, such as the shoulders, elbows, and knees, like a ghost wearing un-wearable armor. The half-elven sorcerer can feel the raw power of the mana giving life to little more than metal and spellcraft Baelok can scarcely comprehend. Even if the spell circles are somehow hidden within the solid-seeming pieces of metal, he should have been able to detect them with some of the methods he used. And, even if not, the various dispelling techniques should have prevented reactivation in the first place.

Baelok has always known himself to be one of the smartest people he knows. He has had his phases of unfounded arrogance, righteous indignation at being doubted, and ultimately, a polite confidence in his wisdom as he became the foremost expert on magic theory and scholarly pursuits for the Empire.

In the face of the known killing machine staring him down, Baelok feels like he is sent back to his childhood, facing down his sire’s wife. She only legally met the definition of ‘stepmother’ in Baelok’s eyes due to everything else she did behind the closed doors of his mother’s owner.

The Archmagus of the Imperial Institute of Magery feels like he is a defenseless child, and absolute terror grips his heart as his body starts to tremble. He manages to stammer a single syllable “Uh…” as his quaking hands try to grip the work bench he’s leaning on. He couldn’t grip a weapon if he could even find one of the tools to improvise with. His throat feels dry and his heartbeat pounds in his ears, yet feels eerily silent as he desperately waits for some sign from the golem of what his fate is to be, like staring down the Ruler of Death that his stepmother seemed to be aware of in the truly last moments.

The golem finally cocks its head, scanning around the room with its expressionless head. The features look somewhat like it could pass as a shenwulf’s head, like the ancient artwork of certain shenwulf tribes that have since been absorbed into the larger countries around them. Some of these works still float around and appear in high-end aristocratic auctions, but Baelok has not yet achieved the wealth he needs to collect the historical artifacts he wishes he could.

“Your efforts have certainly gone unrewarded…” remarks the male-toned, somewhat ethereal and ‘spooky’ voice that comes from the golem. It’s hard to say how it speaks, but it speaks with such a clarity and freedom of thought, that there’s almost no way it is an automated function. It could be remotely controlled, but Baelok has the ability to summon and control a golem. He can hold the summon and command its movements directly within one hundred yards or so, but only for about an hour at most. If he must pilot it through its own eyes at range, not only is he vulnerable because he must close his eyes to manage the golem from its first-person view, but it burns through his mana that much more.

The golem ‘looks’ directly at Baelok again, taking another step closer. The half-elf tenses as he tries to move backwards, but is still exactly as cornered against the work bench as he was a moment earlier. “You have an impressive arsenal of magic. I thought for certain I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Well done, Archmagus Baelok.”

This statement shocks the Archmagus as he stares in terror at the killing machine as it stops directly in front of him. He couldn’t escape if he wanted to, and he is a mage, not a soldier. He can unleash devastating or highly technical magic, but his physical stamina and acrobatics are comparatively limited.

“W-... Wait… You… You were… controlling this golem… the whole time?”

The golem seems to give an impressed tilt of its head, though it’s a little condescending, since it did essentially tell him exactly that. He just can’t believe it.

“I was,” replies the golem’s voice plainly.

“But… No, that’s… How can that be? If… If you were controlling it… I didn’t detect any spells in active use.”

The golem chuckles as it paces slightly to the side to step up to the work bench, and Baelok fearfully scrambles to his left to get as far away as possible, which only puts him in the actual corner formed by the shelving unit with the workbench. The golem picks up a divining fork designed by Baelok himself to help illuminate individual glyphs in a spell circle to safely identify each one and the amount of mana required to actually activate it.

“I’m a little disappointed, Lord Archmagus.”

With this prompting, the half-elf searches his thoughts, momentarily looking away from the golem. Though his eyes are darting around, it’s not to search for a weapon.

The realization hits the centuries-old sorcerer who could pass for an older student in the Institute.

“Nooo… You were actively combatting my magic? You… You were using dispel on me?”

“Among other things,” replies the golem as he sets the device down gently. “Which is why I want to make you a deal.”

Just as his footing is starting to become steady enough to flee while the golem is seemingly distracted, Baelok freezes in place once more. It feels like his neck might make creaking noises in the way an old door hinge does when he stiffly turns his head to look at the mana-powered puppet. His heart is still pounding, so he still feels like he should run. But, his curiosity stays his feet.

He certainly doesn’t want to die, and he doubts he can escape if he runs. He could try to scream, but he’d be dead before anyone could help.

There are lines he refuses to cross, but Archmagus Baelok knows the Fievegal is in talks to unite with the Empire by one means or another. Even if the Grand Prince is a high-ranking noble of the Empire that far-surpasses the ennobled half-elf, he is the Archmagus of the Imperial Institute of Magery.

Baelok knows there are great risks involved, but for a moment, it’s not the fear of the golem he thinks about, but Yaulander, who not-so-subtly threatened him and his position as the head of magic research and instruction in the Grand Zenkon Empire.

“Whaaat… deal would that be?” asks the Archmagus with a clash occurring between his scholarly curiosity and his instinctive fear.

His fate might just be sealed by that one question, but it is a question to which he might literally die to know the answer.

***