Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

Before, Alaric had assumed Rail'ak was fanning the flames of hate that already existed, but Corv'ak's revelation changed everything. To be honest, he was a little bit impressed. Fabricating an entire emotion out of nothing was no easy feat.

[ Not from nothing. ] WorldHammer's voice filtered into his mind.

[ Hate this strong does not come from nothing. ] Sabre supplemented.

The guardians had a point, and it made Alaric's mind spin. He mentally groaned, 'Of course, there is more to this story.'

Corv'ak took a deep breath in the tense silence that followed. The human visitors were all staring at him expectantly, with their demihuman escorts doing their best to stay quiet and invisible. Now that he'd hinted at a deeper problem, it was only fair that he divulged this information fully. "Let's speak in my office in a moment."

He then proceeded to retrieve a pale blue glowing vial from somewhere inside the sleeves of his flowing robes and handed it to Troy, "Take this. It will replenish your strength. You still have more of those to go, and the more of them you make, the more your accuracy will plummet. Aim for twelve good vials, and we can pick up from there tomorrow. Making a High-tier Stone Pill is a two-step process, so you'll have to get working on refining the component pills first before merging them."

"Does it have to be that complicated?" Kair'ak suddenly intervened, "I know what a Stone Pill is, and it was never that difficult to make mine."

"That's because you used the average Stone Pill," Corv'ak explained as he gently rubbed Troy's back, the young boy drinking the elixir slowly, "He wants to craft the best Stone Pill there is to terminate all chances of the Guardian Emperor hitting a bottleneck in the future. So, we decided to take a route alchemists normally wouldn't take and make something a bit more unique."

When Troy had wiped down the sweat on his face and his ingredients had all been checked for impurities, Alaric and his group left with the master Alchemist, whose office was in the only solid building at the plaza.

Inside, they found rows of elixirs and pills stacked in no particular order. It was nothing like Old Thai's shop, and most of these looked more like essentials and keepsakes than commercial commodities.

The man's work desk was even messier than Elder Gregory's, and rather than documents, he had moving picture frames of his former students all around. The walls were also filled with them, hanging everywhere. Higher ones of the Heaven Crested eagles, all of different ages, holding glowing pills or elixirs of some sort in celebration with their master.

"Moving pictures?" Lucy mused.

"Yes. You don't see those everywhere," the man answered absentmindedly while going through a few papers at his desk, putting away a few and stacking others, "We have a Mogul in the demiplane."

"What's… a Mogul?" Alaric wondered.

"Memory Masters," Scarlett whispered, "They study the art of recreating memories in various forms."

"Right you are, girl," Corv'ak responded, pulling a glass ball out of his drawer. He held it up, and inside it, hundreds of heaven-crested eagles were jumping up in bright golden robes with red sashes. "This was the year when I graduated the largest number of students. So many prodigies among them. Prince Rail'ak was one of them, too. I think you can find his tiny face in there if you squint, right beside that girl with the red cheeks. He was so popular among them."

Curiosity clawed at Alaric's mind as he inched closer, "Rail'ak studied Alchemy?"

"Almost everyone has. The adults, anyway. We live such long lives that alchemy becomes interesting at some point, and many take it up for a few decades before either becoming true masters or leaving with the skills to get them anywhere they would like. Usually, an alchemist who can craft a Three-Star Pill or a Four-Star Pill is good enough."

Alaric's sharp eyes easily spotted Rail'ak among the hundreds of jumping students. His hair wasn't blue in the moving image. Instead, it was the same as the other, a bit messy even, and he lacked the scar on his face, and yet even then, he stood out, "His smile was… fuller back then."

"Sharp eyes," Corv'ak chuckled, "But I think you mean innocent."

"What's the difference?" Alaric asked.

"Well, he can still smile now, can't he? I hear his laughter in the night when he fancies a game of Featherbowl. He was a much more decent demihuman back then. Not the featherbrained warmonger you see today." The old man went on rambling, a sad tinge in his voice as he stared into the glass orb, "You know he used to play with my beard, back when he was still a child. Before his father taught him to fight like a Sentinel."

"He knows the Dance of the Sentinel?" LionHeart tensed.

"He tries," Corv'ak shrugged, "He bested his father once and grew a big head. Stopped improving afterwards. Neither I nor the other Higher Ones who'd seen Ungv'ak at his prime dared to utter the truth to the prince. The High Sentinel had let him win as a test, and the prince failed miserably.

Started spouting all this nonsense about how the High Sentinel was no longer fit to rule and that he was an old man struggling in a new world. Since then, he's challenged his father multiple times to one final duel."

"And he's been losing," Alaric thought aloud.

"I would have liked it better that way, but no," the old man answered, "Rather than show the prince his true strength, our leader continues to deny him the satisfaction of a challenge. Call me crazy, but I think that worked against us because it didn't slow the prince down one bit.

Ever since that brat started pushing to take Ungv'ak's place as the leader of the demiplane, everything's been going haywire. He's taken a mere dislike for humans and turned it into rage. He spreads word of invading the human nations and taking the continent, then ending the demons. He preaches war, adventure, treasure and prosperity without the humans. He claims that without them, the demon scourge will come to an end."

"How does that logic work?" LionHeart wondered.

"Humans are too weak to wipe out the demons, and because of that, the demons grow in number," Par'al interjected with an explanation. Alaric had heard a similar idea implied back at the amphitheatre.

At this point, the Master chuckled, "He has a vivid imagination. I'll give you that. I don't know where he comes up with those ideas. His father only allowed him to become a Stormrunner to allow the demiplane some peace in his absence, but even that backfired.

Now he returns like a war hero to his followers and spreads word of the things he found in the land of the humans. Twisted or not, he paints the worst picture imaginable and fans the flames of a senseless revolution."

"Rail'ak hasn't suffered any consequences, has he?" Alaric observed.

"Now that you're here, I think Ungv'ak will make a move. Heck, most of us have just been waiting for this to happen. Did you have to take a thousand years to be reborn?" Corv'ak laughed.

"What happens now that he's here?" LionHeart cut in. The same air of discomfort Alaric had felt back when Grun'am had asked him the same questions returned. Rail'ak might have been a warmonger, but he was fanning the flames of a fire that had always been there. They still craved a war with the demons, and while Alaric also wanted to put an end to them, this was not his way of doing it.

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"There will most likely be a gathering one of these days to discuss the way forward," Corv'ak answered.

Alaric took a deep breath, mimicking someone in deep thought while he allowed his thoughts to flow again.

Scarlett's voice cut through the awkward silence that nearly formed, buying Alaric time to breathe, "So, you're saying the people who hate us are all just followers of Rail'ak?"

"Yes, they are," the man responded, momentarily distracted from Alaric, "What's your name again?"

"Scarlett."

"Oh, the former assassin," he answered. Sensing the girl's shock, he added, "Troy talks a lot when he's having fun."

"Is that so?" she smiled gently, "I'll talk with him later then."

"The ones who hate us? That makes a lot of followers," Alaric cut them off.

"You sensed something?" Scarlett asked. Having hunted with him before, she was familiar with Alaric's hyperactive senses.

"Didn't need to. I heard a lot of things I tried to ignore. From what I could tell, most of the younger demihumans hate us, though a few don't share that hatred," Alaric responded, his mind finally thawing, "I take it not everyone's a fan of the prince."

"You're friends with Kair'ak and Grun'am," Par'al interrupted, "What do you think?"

Alaric didn't say it, but the standards of age in the demiplane were starting to get to him. He already knew it took Grun'am a century to make Stone Rank, but to call him young just rattled his perspective as a human, "Point taken."

"Don't mind him, Alaric," Corvak leaned forward, "He's a 'loose' supporter of Rail'ak. Conflicted, even though he denies it."

"I don't deny anything. Rail'ak's not the best leader, but he makes solid points," Par'al growled at the old man, "What's to say the demons won't come for us next once they're done with the humans?"

"Humans aren't so weak as to fall to them," Alaric argued, "Earl's Hollow might have fallen to that stampede, but the demons in that attack were all killed, and I recently witnessed a human city pushing back another stampede."

"If the Higher Ones hadn't been hiding all these years, it wouldn't have come to this," Par'al crossed the distance and stared down at Alaric. LionHeart was at Alaric's side instantly, barring Par'al's path while Grun'am grabbed the demihuman's shoulder, pulling him back.

[ Moody human needs a break. Let me get some action with him. ] WorldHammer growled from the In-Between.

[ Calm down, WorldHammer. ] Sabre sighed, [ It's not yet time. ]

"Umm… Can I say something?" Lucy's voice broke the tension.

Everyone turned to her, their intense expressions threatening to swallow her whole. She gulped, but steeled herself, "What if there was a way to prove that Alaric is the Guardian Emperor? Perhaps then, the stories of the elder Higher Ones would feel more… real."

Corv'ak pursed his lips before his eyes went wide with glee, "Perhaps a Seance."

"Those are folktales, old man," Grun'am snapped.

"No, no, Grun'am," Par'al intervened, a devilish smirk on his lips, "Let the man finish."

Corv'ak either failed to notice the malice in his voice or didn't care, "You're a Favoured of the Constellation Delphi, so a Seance through which you channel the words of a Constellation directly could prove beyond doubt that you're the Guardian Emperor. I mean… the very concept of a Seance is believed to be a myth."

"Constellations don't speak to mortals anymore, Master Corvak," Kair'ak yelled at the top of his voice, "It won't work, and when it fails, everyone will start to think he's a fraud."

"A Seance cannot be made over matters as trivial as this. Even if it was to work, it would only work to anger Delphi," Grun'am added.

Par'al chuckled deeply, "But if it did work, then Rail'ak and all his people would have to bow to the High Sentinel and his little Guardian Emperor. High Risk. High Reward."

"I agree with Grun'am," LionHeart jumped in, "This matter is trivial."

[ Alia? ] Alaric breathed, trying to maintain his calm in the tense environment of the office.

The guardian's voice whispered back into his mind, [ I think a Seance would prove useful, but the Constellations don't answer to manipulation. You should either do it for a different reason or not at all. ]

[ ARE YOU BACK OR NOT? ]

[ Baby steps, Little Prince. ] The guardian answered. Alaric didn't know what that was supposed to mean. He didn't like that she was there one moment and gone another, but he was grateful that in this one, she was around.

"It's a good thing this decision is not yours to make," Par'al smirked at everyone opposing him and turned to Alaric, "What do you say, Guardian Emperor?"

"I won't do it," Alaric answered calmly.

Master Corv'ak gasped, "What? Why?"

"Because if I were a Constellation, I wouldn't want a human calling me for a reason as petty as this, Favoured or not," Alaric responded, "That said, I do want to know how to perform a Seance, or at least, the method your people know of so I might do it on my own some other time."

Master Corv'ak wiped the beads of sweat off his brow and nodded, "That's fine. I'll speak to Ungv'ak, and we'll see what we can do. If it does work, however, you could ask her how to solve this problem. She is the Constellation of Knowledge and Revelation after all."

Just like that, the conversation came to an end. Alaric and his friends bid the master alchemist their farewell and left, a wide smirk plastered on Par'al's face. When they were out, he couldn't contain himself, "Ha! I knew you were a fake. Just admit it and leave the demiplane already. If you do so quickly, Prince Rail'ak might just let you live."

"Can you get any more childish, Par'al?" Alaric suddenly snapped, shocking everyone around. His heart beat like a drum, and blood rushed to his head, but he'd had it with this demihuman's attitude, "You love fighting like it's the only thing that brings you joy. You follow a man who thinks war means prosperity when all it brings is death and destruction."

Par'al inched back, thunder cracking above the Storm Pagoda as Alaric let his frustrations be known, "We've toured your beautiful demiplane, and I have seen so much for you to be happy and grateful for. The textiles you treat like nothing important would be luxuries where I come from. Out there, children eat just enough to stay alive. People live inside holy barriers built to hold off demons while adventurers die every other day just by venturing out into the wild, but they have to anyway, because how else can they make a living?

You don't have that here. You don't get to look over your shoulder when you go out to the fields because you are safe. Your home is not out there in the ravaged lands of the humans you hate so much. It's right here, and you're ready to follow a man who doesn't see it."

"You're right," Par'al countered, "My home is here, and it is beautiful. Don't mistake me for Rail'ak. I am not blind to my blessings, but I would be a fool to let the humans who let the continent go to ruin set foot on this demiplane so freely. Everywhere your kind goes, destruction follows. That's what Rail'ak wants to protect us from."

"Protect you from what?" Alaric yelled, "A race that can barely protect itself? I could understand if you'd gone out there and seen this all for yourself rather than listen to what Rail'ak says, but when in your life have you ever felt threatened by humans, Par'al? Other than when that self-serving prince brings back stories of human suffering twisted to make them look like villains."

"Today. Right Now," Par'al yelled, his face contorting with rage, "Yesterday! The evening when the skies rumbled and I looked up to see humans riding on top of the backs of my friends. If our land is so beautiful and safe, then why are you here?"

"He is here for my protection," a voice boomed through the plaza. High in the sky, Ungv'ak, the High Sentinel approached, his wings flapping gently as he came down to meet Alaric and his friends, "And you are doing the opposite of that, Par'al. I am disappointed."

The demihumans in the plaza all bowed at the sight of their leader. He landed and shifted in a burst of golden light, emerging in elegant white and golden robes, similar to the ones Alaric had seen him wearing on the first day. He approached Alaric and started checking his body, "Are you hurt?"

"I am fine," Alaric answered, only to freeze when the High Sentinel's hand touched his stomach.

"It was…"

"Rail'ak," he finished, "I recognise my son's aether," the man responded firmly.

"A far bigger crime than Par'al's…"

The High Sentinel was not having it, "No, Soren. I don't want to hear whatever excuse you have for him. I assigned Par'al to this tour so that he could see that you are not all that my son makes you out to be. I watched from time to time as your group enjoyed the bounties of our demiplane, and yet, I saw next to nothing on Par'al's face. His wings still beat to the winds of war called on us by my son."

Par'al, still bowing, asked, "But, why me?"

"You, like Kair'ak and Grun'am, are old friends of my son. Perhaps the best he's ever had. Before he became a Stormrunner, you were the ones who kept him sane. I might not be able to change what's in his heart, but there are some I do not wish to see go down the wrong path," the High Sentinel responded.

Par'al kept his head to the paved ground, "It was the human who snapped at me, sir."

"And do you feign ignorance of your involvement in his outburst?" The High Sentinel's voice had a dangerous edge to it. Par'al remained quiet, "Go. You are dismissed."

When Par'al was gone, Alaric opened his mouth to speak, only to be silenced with a hand, "Relax, Alaric. The war in this demiplane is mine to fight. Not yours. I will deal with my son, now that you have returned, Soren. I will train the Eagles of the demiplane to answer your call whenever you need them."

"But I'm not going to war," Alaric responded.

The old man only shook his head, "You said the same thing a thousand years ago, and died because of it. I won't let you believe in that foolish notion again. Even as I watch you draw your last breath a thousand years ago, you wept. You lamented. You wanted peace. That is all you've ever wanted, but this continent is a cruel one, Soren."