Shattered Sovereign

The time to depart arrived too quickly. I stood in Weath's central square, surrounded by faces that had become precious to me over the years. Garrett's calloused hands gripped mine with unexpected strength. Lily dabbed at her eyes with her apron. Even the children who'd once feared my broken appearance now tugged at my robes, reluctant to let go.

"But you only just got back!" protested Clarik, the blacksmith whose forge had once sheltered me. "Can't whatever business you have wait another few days?"

"Aye," chimed in Emma. "We've hardly had time to catch up proper. You've been gone two whole years, Vardiel."

Their complaints warmed something deep within my chest, yet duty pressed against my consciousness like a physical weight. I raised my hands for silence, watching as the crowd settled.

I understand your disappointment, truly. But I must travel to Further Vale to pay Duke Redflight a visit.

The mention of that name sent ripples of tension through the gathered villagers. Faces hardened. Fists clenched. Willem stepped forward from the crowd, his mayoral authority lending weight to his words.

"You mean to bring Antos home," he said, not quite a question.

If possible, yes. The Duke's family has taken much from this village. Perhaps it's time they gave something back.

A cheer erupted from the crowd. Voices overlapped in eager encouragement:

"Give those nobles what for!"

"Show 'em what Weath folk are made of!"

"Bring our Antos back where he belongs!"

Old Henrik, whose arthritis kept him mostly housebound these days, raised his walking stick in salute.

"You give that Duke hell! And you come back home quick-like, you hear?"

I nodded solemnly, touched by their faith in me. Each face in the crowd held decades of shared struggle, small kindnesses, and quiet understanding. These people had seen me at my most broken and never turned away.

I will return, I promised. Weath is my home. Nothing will change that.

With final embraces and shouted well-wishes, I walked toward the forest road. My shadow stretched long behind me as morning light filtered through the canopy ahead. Once the village sounds faded and tree trunks blocked sight of the buildings, I allowed my true form to emerge.

My nine dragon-headed tendrils unfurled from beneath my robes, lifting me to my full twelve-foot height. The weapons embedded in my spine slid outward like dark wings, their edges catching dappled sunlight. Power coursed through my form, no longer constrained by the need to appear human.

Satisfied that no eyes could witness what came next, I focused on the familiar sensation of tearing reality. My tendrils lashed forward, their maws biting deep into the fabric of space itself. The world split open with a sound like breaking glass, revealing the dimensional rift beyond.

I stepped through the tear, emerging beside another road lined with golden wheat fields. The walls of Cobb Town rose in the distance, their familiar stone battlements confirming my location. This marked the limit of my Tunnel ability; I could only travel to places I'd previously visited, and my journeys had never carried me to Further Vale itself.

The northwestern horizon beckoned, two weeks of travel by conventional means. I stepped off the cobbled road onto soft grass, planning to cut directly across farmland and forest rather than follow the winding trade routes. Speed mattered more than comfort now.

For hours I ran through endless fields, my enhanced form covering ground at inhuman pace. Wheat gave way to pastureland, then dense woodland that gradually thickened into proper forest. Willem's directions echoed in my memory as I navigated by sun and instinct, hoping his information would prove accurate. Getting lost would serve no one, least of all Antos rotting in some dungeon cell.

By my calculations, even at this supernatural pace, the journey would consume several days. Frustration gnawed at me as I considered alternatives. Perhaps I could construct some flying machine using Assembly? My mind began sketching designs: wing configurations, propulsion methods, materials needed-

Then Kaldos's memory surfaced unbidden.

I saw myself soaring above cloud layers, arms spread wide, wind streaming past my face in exhilarating freedom. The perspective was wrong, the sensation foreign yet familiar. This wasn't my experience, it belonged to the God of War whose mantle I'd inherited.

My feet stopped moving as the vision clarified. Kaldos had possessed the power of flight. Which meant...

I stared at the system notification, then experimentally focused on lifting my body. After several moments of concentration, my tendrils rose from the forest floor. I hovered inches above the moss and fallen leaves, marveling at the sensation of weightlessness.

I scowled, mildly annoyed that this capability had eluded me until now. Just how many additional powers lay dormant within me, unused simply because I remained unaware of their existence?

Willing myself higher, I ascended past low-hanging branches, then beyond the treeline itself. The forest canopy spread below me like a green ocean, and still I climbed. Just as with Tunnel and Arsenal, Flight felt natural, an extension of my will made manifest.

I pushed myself northwest, slowly at first, then with increasing velocity. Wind rushed past my tendrils as I accelerated beyond any earthbound creature's pace. The sensation was intoxicating. The freedom from gravity's constraints; mastery over three dimensions instead of two.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Delight bubbled up from somewhere deep within my chest. I climbed higher still, piercing the cloud layer until moisture clung to my skin in tiny droplets. A laugh escaped me, ringing like musical chimes across the empty sky. For precious moments I forgot everything except the wonder of soaring above the world.

From this height, the earth looked peaceful. Serene. Rivers traced silver lines through green tapestry, and distant settlements appeared as mere dots of civilization. No suffering was visible from here, no injustice or cruelty marring the pastoral beauty below.

But I knew better. Down among those trees and towns, corruption festered. Nobles like Duke Redflight ground common folk beneath their heels while hiding behind titles and wealth. Innocent men like Antos paid for the crimes of their betters.

My smile faded as purpose reasserted itself. I set my expression in grim determination and arrowed northwest through the sky, toward Further Vale and whatever reckoning awaited there.

What would have taken me days on foot had taken mere hours when flying. The journey that should have stretched across multiple sunrises compressed into a single afternoon's flight. I arrived in the sky above Further Vale as night settled over the land, the moon hanging full and bright while stars pierced the darkness like scattered diamonds.

The city sprawled directly below me, a vast collection of stone buildings and winding streets that spoke of wealth and importance. Lanterns flickered along the busier avenues, casting pools of golden light that revealed late-night merchants closing their stalls and guards making their rounds. From this height, Further Vale appeared almost peaceful, its citizens unaware of the divine predator circling overhead.

Willem had told me that the Redflight estate lay outside the town proper, distinguishable as the largest plot of land for miles around. My Mind Sight swept outward from the city gates, scouring the properties that dotted the countryside beyond the walls. Modest manors and farmsteads passed beneath my supernatural perception until I found one that matched Willem's description perfectly.

Old Willem had served as a guard for Barson Redflight's father in his younger days, and his directions proved flawlessly accurate. The estate dominated the landscape like a feudal kingdom unto itself, with manicured gardens, training yards, and outbuildings spreading across acres of carefully maintained grounds.

I flew in the direction of the estate, then hovered directly over the main building. The mansion rose three stories into the night sky, its red-shingled roof gleaming dully under moonlight. Elaborate stonework decorated every surface, while stained glass windows caught and scattered the illumination from within. Wealth radiated from every architectural detail, from the carved gargoyles perched on corner eaves to the golden weather vanes crowning each tower.

Armored guards patrolled the courtyard in systematic patterns, their mail and weapons marking them as professional soldiers rather than simple watchmen. More sentries stood at attention beside the wrought-iron gates leading into the estate, their vigilant postures suggesting they took their duties seriously. Security was tight, but thankfully none of the sentries bothered to look up. If they had, they would have witnessed the intruder floating silently above their employer's mansion like some avenging specter.

At this hour, Duke Barson Redflight would be sleeping comfortably in his bed, secure in the belief that walls and guards could protect him from consequences. I would disabuse him of that notion personally, appearing in his chambers like a grim demon stalking him through his dreams.

I floated nearer to the mansion, studying its upper floors as I tried to determine which room housed the Duke. Logic suggested one of the more lavish chambers on the top floor, but the building boasted what must have been a hundred windows! Each one glowed with warm lamplight, revealing glimpses of opulence that made my jaw clench in disgust.

I sneered at the luxury displayed before me. Even my temple, a shrine built for a god and constructed from the bones of dragons, wasn't this ostentatiously lavish. The Redflight mansion reeked of excess, of wealth accumulated through the suffering of others.

Sighing in resignation, I extended my Mind Sight to peer through each window individually. This tedious process would consume time, but thoroughness would ensure I found my target rather than stumbling into some unfortunate servant's quarters.

I scanned each room on the top floor methodically, looking through one opulent chamber after another. A spacious study revealed wood paneling that probably cost more than most villages saw in a year, while heavy furniture crafted from exotic hardwoods occupied strategic positions. Another room housed a massive library with shelves filled to the brim with leather-bound books, their gilt lettering catching lamplight as if the very knowledge within had been purchased rather than earned.

A bathroom featured a marble tub large enough for three people, complete with gold fixtures and mirrors framed in what appeared to be actual silver. Guest rooms that would shame the most expensive inn accommodations followed, each decorated with tapestries and furniture fit for visiting royalty.

Finally, on the eastern side of the manor, I discovered a room with open windows that allowed night air to circulate freely. Inside lay a large bedroom dominated by a four-poster bed carved from dark oak and hung with midnight blue curtains. Upon that bed rested an old, dignified-looking man tucked beneath fur blankets that probably came from some exotic predator.

Despite being dressed in nightclothes and apparently prepared for sleep, the old man seemed engaged in animated conversation with someone. His lips moved constantly, occasionally pausing as if listening to responses, then continuing with renewed enthusiasm.

My Mind Sight probed deeper into the room but found no other occupants. Could he be using some sort of magical communication spell? I had never encountered such magic during my time at the Academy, though perhaps the wealthy possessed access to abilities beyond common knowledge.

I hovered closer to the room until I positioned myself just outside the open windows. Inside, the man laughed heartily at some unheard jest, then gradually fell silent. His eyes closed peacefully, and his breathing settled into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Carefully, I maneuvered my twelve-foot form through the large casement windows, grateful that the Duke's taste for grandeur extended to oversized openings. My tendrils brushed against plush carpeting thick enough to muffle footsteps, while tapestries depicting hunting scenes watched from the walls with embroidered eyes.

I approached the bed slowly, my shadow falling across the sleeping form until I loomed directly over the old man. Activating Analyze confirmed what I already suspected: this was indeed Barson Redflight, Duke of Further Vale and architect of so much suffering.

I sneered down at him, noting how he appeared much older than his sixty years would suggest. Deep wrinkles carved valleys across his face, while dark bags beneath his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. Liver spots mottled his skin like stains on parchment, and his breathing carried the wheeze of advancing age.

As I studied my target, the old man's eyes suddenly opened wide. Instead of terror or confusion, his face broke into a delighted smile as he gazed up at my monstrous form.

"Kolin!" he exclaimed with genuine joy. "You finally came to visit!"

I stared down in confusion, wondering what delusion had seized the Duke's mind. Kolin Redflight lay dead by my hand years ago, what was left of his body fed to the earth.

The Duke continued speaking as if addressing a beloved son rather than the creature responsible for that son's death.

"I was just telling your mother that you never visit. Not like your brothers Neik and Lyman. Lyman just visited me yesterday, and he told me all sorts of stories about the War Academy. He's a student there, you know."

My confusion deepened into horrified understanding. Why was he addressing me as Kolin? And how could Lyman have visited yesterday when I had killed him months ago at the Academy? The pieces clicked together with sickening clarity as I realized what this meant.

My gut clenched as the truth became undeniable. Duke Barson Redflight was lost in the grip of dementia, his mind fractured by age and grief into a fantasy where his dead sons still lived.

Before I could process this revelation fully, a sharp knock echoed from the chamber door. The sound froze me in place as footsteps approached from the hallway beyond.

The door swung open to reveal a pretty young woman with chestnut brown hair and matching eyes. She wore a simple nightgown and carried herself with the confident bearing of nobility.

"Father, are you still awake?" she called softly before stepping into the room.

Her gaze found me immediately. Her eyes widened in absolute terror as she took in my towering form, the dragon-headed tendrils, and the weapons embedded in my spine. Her mouth opened wide, preparing to unleash a scream that would bring every guard in the estate running.