Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Kalegrynten, as the Grand Premier of Mattarglos, has a rather prestigious seat in essentially a private opera box seat overlooking the audience hall for the Citadel. The Fievegal is rather open about the fact that they are an experiment in new leadership, and granting allies without immediate business a seat at the ‘show’ is a policy of ‘transparency’ for state affairs, which Daniel believes helps promote trust in the leaders. Naturally, that excludes actual secrets that fundamentally support the security of the country, but otherwise, the Fievegal will be charting a course through new terrain.

Even more impressive to the old gatonine is the magic plate at the front of the private box, spanning about arm’s width and positioned on the banister of the private box. It provides a much closer view of the deis where the thrones are, and can even project the sound of the voices as well. He knows that this same image, like the hatching of the dragon children, is displayed around the Citadel and in town as a trial run for the Fievegal’s plans to communicate information to the towns and cities of the Fievegal without the need for posted papers, which require literacy to begin with, let alone in the required language. If everything goes according to plan, the Fievegal will be able to broadcast information in any spoken language in turns, allowing any member of any race to understand the announcements.

Princess Erimaya walks in and curtsies, even though she’s wearing a hooded outfit to hide her identity for now. “Grand Premier Kalegrynten. A pleasure to see you. May I join you?”

Kalegrynten stands up out of time-polished respect, bowing to the young Princess. “Your Highness. You honor me with your company. Please, join us.”

With the aging, battle-scarred gatonine leader is Baron Goelselmo Honeydip, his second eldest son, Kuboen, Empress Sundenelle and her mother Byleathea, and the two Dragonslayers, Helbeit and Resken. These are major allies of the Fievegal, but not part of this first formal audience since Mattarglos, the Empire, and Mornistae have formally acknowledged the Fievegal as a sovereign state.

The others properly greet her, but because he doesn’t need to be undercover for any reason, Kalegrynten is treated as the highest ranking person present.

Sundenelle then muses as Erimaya takes a seat next to her, “I do wonder how our charming little friend will handle a more formal audience where she’s not putting on a complete spectacle.”

“I think she’s ready,” replies Erimaya. “She’s not shy talking in front of lots of people, she’s just… never needed to be refined.”

The others chuckle a little at the understatement.

A golem steps out from the back room behind the deis, and with a masculine voice, it announces, “All rise for her glorious Greatness, Empress Hekate fell Lawson, her Imperial Grace, Ryuogriar gur Lawson…” Everyone stands as the golem herald continues to announce everyone that exits following Hekate, and Kalegrynten can’t help but chuckle a little. His actual granddaughter, Veiranoei, wanted to keep working on planning and logistics, but seeing Hekate dressed up like small, but powerful sovereign perfectly encapsulates the Fievegal itself.

Hekate is tiny but mighty, and her broad cloak giving the heir of compensating for her size reminds everyone that she is easy to underestimate, but hides a great deal of strength in her compact form.

And, that ignores the most infamous name in the gossip circles to date; the Harbinger of Calamity.

Kalegrynten is thankfully allowed to remain in the know, so he knows Daniel isn’t present, and he knows why. But, he can’t help but feel a bit of grandfatherly adoration towards Hekate for standing tall on her own, showing no signs of actual insecurity with the women behind her all being beautiful, tall, and more obviously mature-looking.

And, that includes Zuzia, who the gatonine Grand Premier got to know a little better during their drive into the heart of the Fievegal.

Hekate stands in front of her throne, saying loudly, “Thank you all for attending. Please be seated.”

Everyone takes their seats, with the exception of the grey dragon known as Neith, who is dressed in a very handsome uniform of his own. He ascends the stairs with a scroll already unfurled, and he kneels at the last step before reaching the top, presenting the document to Hekate.

Hekate takes the scroll gratefully, saying, “Thank you, your Highness. Please take your seat.”

“You honor me, your Greatness, your Graces,” replies the dragon. He stands up and approaches the seat that is slightly off to the side and positioned one step lower than the level of the Empresses, with Aramellianna and Zuzia already seated there. Neith bows slightly at the two before taking his seat, which specifically accommodates his long tail. They’re positioned just enough out of the way that Hekate’s throne commands the most attention, such that they can speak to each other without disrupting the audience too much, but are also present to advocate or protest, if such things are to become needed.

Hekate reads the scroll, for a moment before setting it on the widened arm rest of her throne. “As you all know, I am the founding and Sovrain Empress of the Fievegal, Hekate fell Lawson, first of my name, and rightful descendant of the feldrok race. That said, I have never known my people personally. That right was taken away from me before I became the person you see before you today. I won’t waste time on a tale of woe about my history, nor will I proclaim my desire for revenge. My revenge shall be this; to become a symbol of peace through strength. The Fievegal is really strong with weapons, but strength is not simply about cutting down enemies and conquest. It takes the strong to carry lumber. The strong build houses and castles, roads and farms, mines and ships. The strong help people who need help, even if they were once enemies. That is why we will continue to help our friends and allies, and when it’s needed, we’ll even help our enemies if it means keeping the world as safe and peaceful as possible. That doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I know very well that there are many drooling fangs eagerly hoping to take advantage of the naive fool of an Empress of the Fievegal, who is nothing more than a dummy and a former slave. That’s why I have my friends and family…” Hekate gestures to both of her sides, where the other attending Empresses are seated, including the eldest Stalvaltan daughter, a regal and mature dragon who is holding her own son and a possible presumptive heir, and Doephluev the apparent half-elf or other rare race who made a name for herself as the ‘acting Sovereign Empress’ during the peace conference, which sparked many rumors and speculation on the Fievegal’s peculiar multi-Empress structure. And, merely extending her arms out to acknowledge her companions briefly shows her own beautiful dress and jewelry beneath the cloak, giving a style that is simultaneously cute, but elegant, and accentuates her childish charm and her combat-focused strength. She’s not armored like she’s expecting a battle, but even with the wealthiest materials on the market or ones not easily recognizable due to their new invention on Zenkon, her style speaks to her adventurous nature more than a master of the ballrooms and courtrooms.

The young raven-haired Empress continues regally as she withdraws her hands into cloak, closing off the sneak peak of her outfit beneath, as well as the large puffy black tail she is proud of, but only peaks out of the bottom of her mantle’s back at present. “The Fievegal will outlast the mountains, and those who stand beside us might just join us there. So, thank you all for attending. I shall begin hearing petitions, as it is my pleasure to answer my duty to speak to my people and our friends across our borders to strengthen this continent and this world so no more disasters ever need to be feared!” Hekate holds her fist up proudly, again giving a shaded glimpse of the mountain-moving wealth beneath once more. She smiles gently, holding her head high.

A strange sound breaks the momentary quiet; clothed flesh striking the same. Kalegrynten’s gaze is drawn to Hekate’s left as the sound repeats, growing in frequency. Even the dragon Neith is looking to his relative right.

Zuzia, who Kalegrynten only recognized because she was introduced as a Grand Princess and entered separately from Neith, helping solidify that she is not his wife, is slapping her palms together.

Being the fastest to pick up on it, Wenlianna starts doing the same.

Kalegrynten is over seventy years old, but prides himself on his excellent physical condition that could pass for a man half his age. And, his wits haven’t dulled in the slightest. He starts emulating the two human women, realizing quickly that it is a simple round of applause.

Naturally, applause is not a foreign concept to the denizens of Zenkon. It is simply not done during a formal Imperial audience. A typical audience with royalty of any rank is generally a subdued and extremely formal affair, while applause is something reserved for tournaments where energy is high.

But, Hekate just touched everyone with her sincerity, and Zuzia is setting the precedent that the Fievegal is a place of welcoming, especially in regards to sincerity and effort.

Hekate blushes a little as the applause rapidly spreads through the crowd. Aside from the members of the Fievegal, the Mattarglossian visitors make the gatonine Grand Premier proud, since they are the second-fastest to fully sweep the sound of clapping throughout the audience chamber as it becomes infectious, and the positive energy obviously swells.

Hekate raises her hands to gesture for the volume to be lowered, calling out, “Thank you! Thank you. Thank you all so much.” The applause slowly dies down, and Kalegrynten watches her regain control. “Thank you. I got a little carried away there, but I’m glad everyone here accepts my many flaws along with my many strengths. Now then, we shall begin with the delegation from Urflasdat. Lord Nortaer kos Ethuvere; the Fievegal welcomes you to take the stand and speak.”

The young heir to Urflasdat travelled to the Fievegal in order to represent the Ethuvere County, the Margravate that protects the border of Ahmpur, and the kingdom of Ahmpur itself. He rises to his feet from a comfortable chair on the ground floor of the audience chamber along either side, and he approaches the raised stand at the center front of the audience chamber, which primarily faces the Imperial deis, but makes the speaker visible to the whole audience chamber. Additionally, the vision panels shift to focus on him for his own petition or speech.

Nortaer bows politely once he’s in position, and he says, “You honor me, your Imperial Greatness. I am Lord Nortaer kos Ethuvere, heir to the Margravate and County of Ethuvere in the Kingdom of Ahmpur. In the wake of the mana fire, my esteemed Lord Father, Count Ethuvere, regrettably could not attend. I have come in his place to offer our sincerest gratitude to the Fievegal for assisting in stopping the mana fire, evacuating our citizens, and helping rebuild in the aftermath of this unprecedented tragedy.” The young scion gestures towards where he was seated, and his aide has a scroll, as well as a small chest. “As but a small token of our gratitude, as well as a gesture of our hopes to uphold an amicable coexistence with the Fievegal and prosperous trade, I have brought a small gift for the Fievegal.”

Hekate, who has since taken a seat on her throne, gestures for the aide to step forward. The young man approaches the scion of the Ethuvere house, handing over the gifts, and Nortaer takes them, before the aide returns.

Nortaer then shows the scroll, saying, “This is a Royal Charter of Safe Passage, which shall grant the Fievegal safe travels for their Imperial Delegation through the Kingdom of Ahmpur and its vassal territories.” He unfurls it carefully, demonstrating that it is safe to the whole hall, and then sets it down on the tray before him. He then opens the chest towards himself before demonstrating its contents as well. “This chest contains the Faerie’s Shield…” This revelation starts a stir of whispers and murmurs amidst the audience, and even Kalegrynten is surprised. It’s a rather legendary jewel in social circles, and Ahmpur has closely guarded its secret location for generations, but occasionally brings it out for major social events.

As Nortaer explains this, he carefully takes the large necklace out of the chest. The namesake of the piece, a massive, shield-shaped jewel with one of the highest clarity ratings of any jewel ever discovered, but with a slight caveat.

There are what those who have seen the jewel call ‘Rivers of Mana’ within the jewel, which are gently waved patterns that glow naturally and change colors on a regular basis, constantly shifting the hue and glimmer of the centerpiece of an intricately-crafted masterwork.

Hekate essentially unashamedly admitted the quiet, open secret about her; that she knows very little about elegant things. Even her own adornments at present were picked by everyone around her to make her look truly wealthy and eye-catching, outshining anyone and everything in the room.

The only thing that truly competes at present is the Faerie’s Shield.

And, consistent with her lack of knowledge on such topics, Hekate first looks to Ryuogriar on her right, but quickly turns her gaze to her left where Zuzia, Neith, and most specifically, Aramellianna.

The Grand Duchess is visibly surprised, which of course, Kalegrynten has an excellent view of for the whole audience chamber, in addition to his excellent eyesight.

Sundenelle whispers, “He can’t be serious, can he? Ahmpur has held the Faerie’s Shield for generations. It’s told to children as a bedtime story.”

Byleathea replies, “They wouldn’t dare attempt a counterfeit, though. Even if they believed the Fievegal would find out on their own, if Hekate wears it proudly, it will come up, and such a humiliation would be… straining, to put it mildly.”

Kuboen murmurs, “Is it really that big of a deal? I suppose I’ve heard of it, but the Fievegal… let’s just say, they have an unorthodox supply…”

“It is,” whispers Erimaya. “Forgive me for butting in, but I’ve studied the story out of curiosity. Supposedly, the first Count of Ethuvere had lost an entire troop of men, and when he was lost in a strange forest, he came across a group of fairies that gave him the shield as a bond of covenant.”

“That much is in the children’s story,” retorts Kuboen. “I’m not particularly versed in exotic races and species, but if fairies were as special and powerful as the stories always say, they’d be on the black market in cages.”

Goelselmo sighs. “My son… Please forgive him, Highness. He has spent too much time in the Fievegal.” Kuboen scoffs at this, but the Princess isn’t bothered at all.

“No offense taken, my Lord Goelselmo.” She smiles before explaining, “Respectfully, my Lord Kuboen, the rest of the story is… more grim. I did research on fairies a little further, and from what I could find, they are not charitable by nature. Far from. If the first Ethuvere accepted their help…” She looks at the gem as Nortaer tells the polished story that everyone knows about the gem and its beauty. “The first Nortaer may have been the last.”

Kuboen gives a confused and slightly frustrated look with a shake of his head, not understanding.

Sudnenelle fills in, “She means the fairies likely demanded his first born child in exchange for a changeling. Certain magic could hide their true nature forever. Though, that’s only a rumor of course.”

The young gatonine lord nods, “I see… Thank you, your Eminence.”

She puts a finger to her lips. “Remember, I’m just a young lady-friend of the Grand Premier.”

“Apologies. Of course, uh… m-ma’am…” Kuboen scratches his neck a little awkwardly. He’s a little rude, but he’s a good-natured young man.

After hearing the story and the explanation, Hekate stands up, walking to the edge of the deis. “From the story you just told me, Lord Nortaer, this is a precious and long-historied heirloom of your family and your kingdom. I can’t imagine a good reason for you to part with it for something that we all suffered from. It hardly seems a gift.” She scratches her cheek, glancing at Aramellianna. She doesn’t look long enough to actually gain any information, and instead, continues with what her heart tells her. “Your gift is very kind, though, and it would be rude of me to refuse right away, right? So, right now, I will pledge a gift of our own for the Kingdom of Ahmpur, and especially the Ethuvere County that should return these… mmm… mutual feelings of wishing for a fair and ally-y [pr.: ally-ee] relationship from this day forward. So,... um… look forward to my gift!”

Kalegrynten and Sundenelle both chuckle softly as they watch the others on the deis all die a little inside from Hekate’s extremely in-character way of speaking breaking the facade of the ‘Empress’ Hekate.

Regardless, Nortaer immediately kneels, and his aide does the same. “You honor the Kingdom of Ahmpur, your Imperial Greatness. While it is true that this gem has long been in my family’s care, in truth, it has always brought a great weight. If I may make but one humble request in regards to how you present the Faerie’s Shield, it is to include the history of the Ethuvere family.”

Ryuogriar stands up and approaches Hekate’s side. She makes a very astute observation that is more of a statement in its execution than a question. “Lord Nortaer, it would seem that your intention is almost equally to use the Fievegal as a more secure place to safekeep this treasure, as it is a gift of friendship.”

Nortaer bows his head. “You see through our intent, but I swear it is far from malicious. Preserving the history of this gem is as much our honor as our burden. It is yours to do with as you wish, but I ask that you keep my request in mind, if only to ensure the Ethuvere family’s name and the Kingdom of Ahmpur remain through history alongside the Fievegal.”

Hekate looks at Ryuogriar, and the dragon nods. Samael flops his tail and squirms a little, and she returns to her seat, since he seems to be agitated or excited by the height. Hekate then glances at Aramellianna, who gives her an approving, yet subtle nod.

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The feldrok Empress of the Fievegal holds her hand out, “Very well. Lord Nortaer kos Ethuvere, I accept your gift and your offer of friendship. So long as our ideals can coexist, the Fievegal will treat Ahmpur and the Ethuvere County as our friends.” She lowers her hand, asking sincerely, “Now then, have you any further business at this audience, honorable Lord Nortaer?”

“I do have one matter of importance to inquire about, if I may, your Imperial Greatness.”

“Please go ahead,” replies Hekate. “The Fievegal does not punish mere words, unless they are severe threats or credible… um… threats of imminent attack. Or something.” The young teen gets a little flustered as Sundenelle tries to whisper in futility from her box seat watching the show.

“Stay calm, Hekate… You’re fine…”

But, Hekate doesn’t hear her. “Listen! Insults, intentional or accidental, are meaningless to the state of the Fievegal, but if I punch you in the face, don’t be too mad. That’s all.”

Sundenelle palms her face and slumps over as Byleathea chuckles softly, patting her back. Kalegrynten can’t help but laugh. Hekate has the luxury of being foolish because she is an existential threat, whether everyone present realizes it or not. Anyone that didn’t get the message from the Imperial attack of tens of thousands being driven back with virtually no effort deserves whatever might happen to them.

Nortaer, nervous from the “punch you in the face” part, hesitates for only a moment longer. He then stands up, clearing his throat to make his request. “Presently, the Fievegal has no direct routes through the mountains, which makes it difficult for nations that do not possess the Fievegal’s unique modes of transportation to reasonably conduct trade with the Fievegal.”

“That is indeed a problem we will have to address in order to trade with the Empire,” replies Hekate. “There is a plan. A very plan-ly plan with lots of complicated steps that I’m sure this is probably not the time and place to say. But there is a plan. I assure you.” Hekate notices that everyone is quiet, and the most generous looks she’s getting are looks of nervousness. She thinks quickly, stating, “Railroad! Da-, er, um, my Darling Husband the Emperor… consort… Daniel kos Lawson has already started plans to build a railroad; a road of rails, upon which we shall transport goods even more fastly and cheaply than the strongest team of buckrokhs or the fastest iron buckrokhs! So, um, please be a little patient, since D-The Emperor is extremely indisposed with things. But, since I am the sovereign…”

“Hekate…” whispers Wenlianna when the raven-haired teen starts to spiral.

Hekate clears her throat and nods. “Yes, anyways, thank you for asking, Lord Nortaer. The Fievegal will revolutionize travel and trade soon enough. In the meantime, we can establish contracts with your merchants to make use of our iron buckrokhs to transport goods for now. Does that satisfy your question for now, my Lord?”

Nortaer bows politely. “Once more, you have bestowed your grace and wisdom upon the Ethuvere County, your Greatness. We shall eagerly await this railroad and the prosperity it shall hopefully bring.”

Hekate nods. “Very good. Anything else?”

“No, your Imperial Greatness. I have been graced with all I came for today.”

“Thank you. You may take your seat or be excused at your leisure. I know the journey to the Citadel can be long.”

“Thank you, your greatness. I shall continue to attend this audience so long as I am welcome.”

She nods, and he returns to his seat.

Hekate then glances at the scroll still resting on her throne’s armrest. “Now then… Viscount Calafrein of Mattarglos, the Fievegal welcomes you to take the stand.”

Kalegrynten watches in amusment. Hekate is clumsy as an Empress, since she has very limited formal training and some bad habits, but a strange sort of admiration seems to surround her. It’s not simply because she’s charming in her cute way of being somewhat childish. It’s more to do with her sincerity.

Those who grow up in modern noble societies can’t help but have a mask wherever they go, watching for daggers while carrying their own. They are wary of poison and always listening for the insult in even the sweetest of honeyed words.

Hekate fears no dagger, and she is so thick-skinned, that no insult nor humiliation can get to her. Even if she gets bashful with her mistakes or flustered with her lack of experience, she makes up for it in sheer sincerity backed with the bravado to take action.

She is a breath of fresh air needed on the global stage, even if she is putting herself at risk of vipers and spiders attempting to infest her land.

But, the dragon matriarch, the Ice Queen of Stalvaltan, and the knightly Dragon Grand Prince all fill in the gaps that Hekate leaves. The Fievegal feels impenetrable, even with its inexperienced, former slave-empress simply because they form a bulwark of loyal companionship with each other. Even Doephluev, who is the most overtly sinister of the group and least trustworthy has a reasonably good friendship with Hekate. And, if Kalegrynten read her right, that means Hekate has a cold-blooded assassin in her immediate friend circle; someone who will kill Hekate’s enemies before Hekate ever even realizes they are enemies.

“She’s doing better than I thought,” murmurs Helbeit, the Stalvaltan Guardsman and Dragonslayer, though he probably only intended to be heard by his partner, Resken.

Resken replies quietly, “She pretended to be a zombie necromancer. Even if she screws this all up, why the hell would it matter to us?”

“Hahaha, fair point. Speaking of, are you going to…?” Helbeit pauses and realizes that some of the people near him might be able to hear better than the humans. He leans even closer and whispers directly into Resken’s ear.

The aging gatonine Grand Premier smiles at this with amusement. Indeed. A man without a mouth or ears can still cut your head off. And, whatever you’re planning, I hope it’s something tasteful, at least.

Kalegrynten’s mind trails to Veiranoei. She has an excellent relationship with the other members of the Fievegal, and he can honestly say as a loving grandfather that she has never smiled more since she was a naive little child. The best case scenario, in an odd sort of way, is that Veiranoei actually does fall in love with Daniel, and in turn, he is able to genuinely share some of his affections with her. Or, even fall in love with her over all others.

But, Kalegrynten is a pragmatist in most situations. He prides logic over emotion, and seeking the best outcomes overall.

He knows that it’s an uphill battle for him as a grandfather that loves his granddaughter, since Daniel has distractions aplenty and affection in great abundance beyond what a person can handle, including him, it seems.

So long as Veiranoei can live comfortably and keep smiling, the Grand Premier is perfectly content with his decision to fling her into the Fievegal’s equally-surprised arms, since they are showing daily how much they care for their own, and how far they’ll go for those who aren’t.

If more of the world could manage to focus on prosperity of all, even if it still means negotiation, balance, and fairness, the world of Zenkon might just be able to catch up to the Earth the otherworlders came from.

He may not live to see that day, but he does hope to see his great grandchildren at the very least.

***

Daniel is a hostage in all but name. He certainly doesn’t loathe his captivity, because it is an imprisonment built on love. He can move around a bit so long as he has Doephluev’s laugur decoction, which she should have shared with Ryuogriar by now. But, he is currently watching Hekate, Doephluev, Ryuogriar, Wenlianna, Zuzia, Neith, and Aramellianna host a simple formal audience with the various factions that have come to petition them right away. Some are simply presenting gifts in order to strengthen their relationship with the Fievegal, others are making requests for relief or military support to stabilize trade routes, clear out monsters and bandits, or simply to reinforce the connections with the Fievegal.

Or, to thin out the Fievegal’s military in hopes of promoting another invasion attempt.

Daniel knows this is some tin-foil-hat level paranoia, in a sense, but given the issues they’ve had to deal with on Zenkon, he doesn’t want to simply ignore the possibilites that could be terrible.

Especially because he knows how the mana fire was started.

Yaulander obviously didn’t plan to start the mana fire, but he certainly didn’t provide any assistance in stopping it. From what Daniel has been appraised on since, the Grand Prince has been focused on trying to get more void artilleries made. One of the golems attempted to assassinate Count Baumalde in order to help prevent this on Doephluev’s rogue orders, but Daniel doesn’t really want to fault her. He doesn’t want his allies or family making such calls, but he also can’t really get upset because he has done the same.

The problem is the feeling of need to do so. Daniel decided he needed to keep some of his actions secret, and some of them have endangered his life.

Gwenesphia shoves herself against Daniel in such away to demand attention, having joined him on his bedrest while Treia and Baeka watch over them. Though she’s very much a person, the gatonines and dattakoriens can sometimes blur the line towards the cats Daniel knows; quirky, aloof personalities that will demand attention one moment and gnaw on your hand the next.

“Danielll… You’re ignoring me.” She snuggles against Daniel, pouting up at him. She has to be careful of her backside due to her tail, but her flesh has at least healed over, even if her posterior appendage ends after only a couple of inches.

“Sorry… Did you say something?” asks Daniel wearily. He has been staring at the panel, watching Hekate, but his mind has been all over the place.

“Hekate is doing fine. What are you so worried about? If anything, she’s handling it better than you. Hekate at least genuinely doesn’t care about anyone other than the Fievegal.” She touches the panel where Hekate is seated on her throne, hearing out the kobolds, who are making their formal appeal for land to start their village, as well as access to resources to build the first buildings. Hekate made an informal deal with them already, but the audience is a formal procedure to demonstrate that the Fievegal rewards the loyalty of their allies.

Baeka, who is seated next to the bed, remarks a little dryly, “We were trying to ask you if it’s safe to be having Zuzia so openly presented as an ally like this. She… didn’t exactly hide her distaste for what you had to do to stop the Mana Fire. What if… giving her this much authority allows her to…” The dattakorien Mikadresselle trails off softly.

“Ah…,” replies Daniel softly. They have a point, but after having read the letter that Doephluev handed him, there are far worse risks than the public knowledge centering on Daniel being the one to have unleashed a power that most people wish to accept as having come from far higher powers than mere mortals.

“There’s a piece of intel that we gained recently, and I’m not sure how to make use of it. On top of… what happened. I just…” Daniel gingerly touches his left temple, massaging the side of his head.

“Do you need more medicine, Mukori?” asks Reignleif as she watches Gyualen, Clover, and Willow crawl on Jeavana’s tail as the golden dragon playfully toys with them.

“No. And, if anything, I need to try to wean myself off sooner than later… I just…” Daniel sighs. “I am torn…”

Everyone is quiet for a moment. They weren’t happy with letting Zuzia near Daniel, but he was thankful for the conversation they shared. Zuzia was apparently reasonable in his eyes, since he regrets what he had to do.

“Tell us,” replies Gwenesphia softly. “We can’t help you if you don’t speak up. That was your worst trait at Peony. And, you’ve promised to try to be better about it, haven’t you?”

Daniel hesitates for a moment, and he replies with a small sigh, “On Earth… nukes were only ever used offensively two times three days apart, and that occurred fifty years before I was born. These weapons were used during a war against two rather large cities, wiping out a combined total of around two hundred thousand people instantly. Civilians…. But, they were the enemy of the country using them, my country.” Daniel shakes his head softly. “There were no human enemies that died with the ones I used. Only innocent people… I justified myself when I was launching the attack to stop the mana fire, because… because it had to be done…”

A tear slips from Daniel’s eye as he tries to remain strong, but fails. He closes his eyes and tilts his head down.

Gwenesphia gently wipes the tear away with her finger, saying, “Daniel…”

Reignleif reassures him softly, “It did have to be done.”

Daniel pinches his nose, careful of not agitating any part of the right side of his face. “The man who issued the orders for the attacks on Earth famously called the man who lead the design of the weapons a crybaby… but even he later had some reservations about the outcome.” The overwhelmed mechanic looks around at each of the women looking after him as his ‘wardens’. “The regret… the pain I feel in my heart right now… It’s… the doubt. The doubt that I might not have needed to act so soon, like Zuzia and Rikuto said. But, if anything went wrong…”

All three women in the room close in on Daniel, and they each touch his cheeks together.

Reignleif says softly, “The irony of your kind heart, Mukori, is that you came to a cruel world. Few in a leadership position such as yours would strain over this decision as much as you. They would think only about which target next to threaten with it.”

“The fact that the majority of people have so readily accepted it to be the work of deities should explain why it’s unthinkable for people to see such power and be more shocked that, if it were man-made, it would be used militarily,” explains Baeka. “That’s why everyone accepted what happened to Fort Twilight, but only Vaergraes, who spoke directly to you right before it happened, readily actually accepted what happened to the Devourer.”

Daniel is quiet as he takes this in. He’s hearing many versions of the same answer, but he doesn’t know how to alleviate what he’s feeling. He knew the fundamental terrors that are nuclear weapons long before he ever came to Zenkon, even though they were obviously never used offensively in his lifetime. And, as a nuclear operator, he got to see with his own eyes the massive disparity between what people believe about nuclear power and the facts that actually make nuclear power work.

Daniel scoffs at this realization. How often did I ponder the foolishness of the nuclear power industry continuing to use terms like ‘critical’ to describe a stable fission reaction, only to end up here…?

It was a curiosity at best; something untouchable to Daniel himself. He would never have the means to make a nuclear weapon, and he only saw the old man and his levers behind the curtain, so to speak. A taste of the truth to make his job work. Enough to be dangerous, but not enough to master any one thing.

He keeps looking for an answer that doesn’t exist. If it did, President Truman would have figured it out. He took both the credit and the blame for his decision; all authority and responsibility, because it was necessary to end a war.

But, it always circles back for Daniel.

The typical tests of morality.

If it takes the murder of a single child to cure all the world’s troubles, would you do it?

In the absence of better options, in the torrent of fear and doubt, Daniel answered ‘yes’.

But not because he would do it. But, because he chose to ignore the child’s existence in order to force the solution forward.

The only person who understands Daniel, who relates to the horror, is Zuzia. It’s not a romantic spark, of course. But, it is meaningful that Daniel knows his feelings aren’t disconnected. He is in a different world, and though he has generally been able to accept everything that happens and roll with the punches, he crossed a line that he didn’t want to cross. And, he did so because he was afraid, because he wasn’t strong enough, and because he had no way of knowing when the ‘last second’ truly was.

Daniel finally decides to confront it in the only way he knows how, at least at the moment.

“Listen… If there was… let’s say a speeding carriage, or even a rampaging gulpoxen rushing towards a crowd of people, and there was a single child in front of you. Pushing the child in front of the out-of-control gulpoxen or carriage would distract them, and only the child would die, while the crowd of people would live… Could you actually do it?”

Everyone is silent for a long time. The only noise comes from the dragon babies, who are playing with simple wooden blocks too large for them to eat, but light enough for them to play with. Clacking and cute little warbles definitively contrast with the tone of Daniel’s question.

He specifically asked it with the ‘child’ example because it adds that extra layer of emotional weight. For the modern Earth challenge, it’s typically a large man being pushed onto railroad tracks to stop a railway cart or something, ignoring the actual physics for the sake of the test. But, much of Daniel’s life is filled with background memories of various attempts to pass legislation, Orwellian or otherwise, behind the banner of “Think of the children”. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that children should be protected, but as the Nazis knew like anyone else, this same emotional response makes people easy to manipulate.

Daniel isn’t trying to manipulate anyone, of course. He just wants them to try to feel why he keeps circling around this particularly heart-crushing thought.

Because it is something he has already done at this point.

Reignleif, Baeka, and Gwenesphia are all silent. The dragons, particularly, aren’t very merciful to anyone they deem their enemies, and for a long time, they considered every other race their enemies or useful tools at best. Gwenesphia has always been kind by nature, and Baeka is protective of her own people, but also gets squeamish at the idea of harming innocents beyond what is reasonable, which generally means she likes the Fievegal because they aren’t out to conquer and consider the death of civilians a complete travesty.

The first and only one to speak up is Jeavana.

And what she says could seemingly crack the sea itself with how blunt and ridiculous it is.

“Daniel, let’s have sex.”

Everyone is speechless when she says this. It is so off-the-wall and in stark contrast to Daniel’s question, completely ignoring it and the point Daniel was trying to make in favor of utter shamelessness.

But, the golden dragon, laying on her belly and looking at Daniel with her hand on her chin, has a reason for saying so, even as her tail teases Willow, and the baby dragon pounces.

Jeavana states, “You keep circling around this issue like someone’s going to have a different answer for you. But, we’re not. We’re all thankful to be alive. We’re all thankful that the mana fire is over. We’re all thankful that you made a hard decision that the rest of us are terrified to even consider. Even that Zuzia girl would rather the world continue to exist rather than become a volcanic hellscape. You can ask the question a thousand more times, but other than those looking to condemn you to make themselves feel good, you’re not going to get a different answer. Make the families of the fallen nobles or ask for their forgiveness or something. The Harbinger of Calamity didn’t become so by half-measures and regrets. He fires first, fires again, and then figures everything out in the aftermath.” She then tugs at her comfortable, low-cut dress, stating almost as a matter of fact, rather than flirtatiously, “So, let’s do it. You and me. I’ll distract you from these thoughts and remind you that you’re still very much alive, and that the whole world is still alive thanks to it. If you need to do things to make yourself feel better, I’ll help you. But… please stop thinking you did something evil. It was unfortunate, but all the more reason to remember the people we couldn’t help, and help more people next time with an even better strategy. Who better to learn from the mistakes of the Harbinger of Calamity than the Harbinger of Calamity, huh?”

She smiles sincerely, and for once, it’s not her aloof, goofy grin, but instead, a heartfelt smile.

Everyone is as surprised as Daniel with Jeavana’s eloquent speech, since she made some good points and hit Daniel right where it mattered most.

He’s wallowing because he doesn’t know what to do, and he doesn’t feel like the words he has been receiving so far are helping all that much.

But, it does give him an idea of what he can do to at least offset some of the loathsome price he paid in order to protect the world. A price he inflicted upon others without warning.

Daniel takes a breath and sighs. “Thank you, Jeavana… I don’t feel all that much better, but… I guess I have an idea of something we can… that I can do to help make me feel… a little less… of this crushing feeling.” He manages to figure out the words.

He then looks at each of them for a moment in turn, and he asks, “Have I ever talked about the Statue of Liberty?”

***