When Heroes Die

“When deciding to accompany a hero on their journey, think carefully about which Role you wish to take. Princesses have happy endings, mentors, and childhood friends do not.”

– A Stranger’s Guide to Names in Calernia, Author Unknown

The wind travels over a wall, past armies of maddened rats. Plains of tall grass sway from side to side. Lone trees jut out, breaking up the otherwise featureless horizon. A rustle, a crack, the sound of twigs underfoot. The wind continues over mountains and between valleys. Past desolate landscapes, long since abandoned by man. At long last, the breeze reaches its destination, whispering softly among the fallen remnants of a once great race. Ruins, jutting out from otherwise an empty hill. Tall spires that glinted like silver in the moonlight, encased in a bed of stone.

The carcass of a once great civilization. Hundreds of mirrors spun around the silver spires, wonders of magic still functioning long past the empire’s fall. Grand enchantments traced out in the shape of a city, an arcane working on such a scale that the sheer brilliance could not be truly grasped.

I watched my body walk forward slowly.

The place was a maze of reflections. Panes of glass, spiralling in dizzying patterns, decorating every street and thoroughfare. Then, I entered one of the buildings. It must have been important, since it looked to be located near the heart of the ruins. The interior was sparse, just a circular room with a raised platform in the middle.

Broken fragments littered the floor.

My body came to a stop.

An urge came to me. A desire to find all the fragments. Find them and piece them back together. I wanted to see this monument restored. I didn’t know why or how, but in doing so, I sensed I would discover something significant. Something that I needed to know.

It was a quest.

The vision repeated. I watched it over and over again, the path burned into my mind. Time seemed to blend. All that mattered was the journey.

And then I woke up.

I was lying on something warm and fluffy. It was the most comfortable I had felt since leaving Earth. Whatever I was on, I just seemed to float. Vaguely, I heard the echo of footfalls on a wooden floor somewhere close.

I slowly opened my eyes.

And then everything that had happened crashed back into me. Max’s death. Fighting the Warlock. Fleeing the Warlock. Being transported to Arcadia and killing the Artist. I didn’t know where I was or if Roland was still alive. I didn’t know how long it had been.

Memories of having control over my body stripped from me like layers from an onion surfaced. I had to shove down the instinctive panic it evoked.

Don’t think about that right now.

Reaching up slowly, I felt the side of my cheeks. They were slick with tear-drops. It took me a moment to realize it, but I had touched my face using my previously missing hand.

Right, I had that again.

No, you can think about all of this later Taylor, first you need to find out what’s going on.

I scanned the room. Aside from a few minor pieces of decoration, it was austere. Stone brick walls, a wooden floor and green curtains on the left. The bed itself was a proper four-poster bed with a fluffy duvet that was likely stuffed with down. Wherever I was, it was somewhere important.

Opposite the bed, there was a red haired girl dressed in a servant’s livery. She was busy dusting down a porcelain vase that had been carefully balanced atop a dressing table.

“Where am I?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“Eeeep!” The girl exclaimed, jumping almost a foot off the ground. She dropped the feather duster as she did so. The vase teetered, before she caught it and carefully set it back.

What?…

“I’m so, so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you please hold it against me Chosen I promise I was just cleaning the room,” she turned my way, blue eyes meeting my own as she blabbered on.

This was…bizarre.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I admitted.

She gulped, then breathed in deeply. The girl took a moment to calm down, then bowed low.

“I apologize Chosen for disturbing your sleep, how may I assist you?”

Being bowed to while lying in bed was just one part of many that was making this entire conversation feel surreal. I had known in abstract that heroes known as heroes were revered in some parts of the world. Keeping as low-key as Roland, Max and I had, that hadn’t entirely sunk in.

From what she had already said, I could infer that I was somewhere aligned with good. Probably the Principate, judging from both her language and accent. Considering she didn’t talk like a stage performer, I’d guess I was either in one of the northern or southern principalities.

It also appeared that wherever I had woken up, they had somehow determined that I was a hero.

“Can you tell me where I am?” I repeated.

“You’re in Rhenia, currently resting in one of the guest rooms on offer by her grace, Cordelia Hasenbach.”

“The Prince of Rhenia?”

“That is correct. You’ve been sleeping here for a long time.”

Great. I had managed to walk all the way from Liesse to Rhenia.

That was half the length of the continent.

I felt uneasy. I didn’t know where Roland was, or if he was even still alive, or even how long I had been sleeping for. Right now, I needed time to properly collect myself.

Pull yourself together, Taylor. You’re not fine, but you can cope.

“What year is it?”

“Right now, it is early Summer of the year eight hundred and four,” the girl informed me. I could see the sweat trickling from her brow. I wasn’t sure why she was so scared of me.

That meant two years had passed since my fight.

“Where is Roland?”

“I apologize, I do not know who that is.”

“The Rogue sorcerer,” I clarified. A sense of foreboding took me then.

Nervously, she repeated her denial.

“Have there been any letters left for me at all?”

A third negative. The girl was now visibly distressed.

For now, I would assume that Roland was still alive. There was nothing to substantiate that belief, but it felt…right. As if I would know if he were dead.

I had come to care for him deeply over the years.

Then the realization hit me. If he hadn’t found me after two years, either he wasn’t looking for me, he was in trouble in some way, or I was well hidden.

… I swear, if he’s gone gallivanting off on adventures and just left me somewhere without even sparing the time to write me a note, I am going to be so angry at him when I find him.

I didn’t know where he was, but I needed to find out. Unfortunately, with how much time had passed, he could be anywhere on the continent. Searching for him myself wouldn’t be feasible, but there was nothing stopping me from asking people to help out.

“Why has Cordelia Hasenbach kept me here instead of sending me somewhere else?” I changed the topic.

She looked at me oddly for a moment, as if she expected me to know the answer myself.

“Your arrival was anticipated. Why wouldn’t you be housed here?”

Expected how?

That was a…non explanation. And it set off alarm bells. I couldn’t think of a good reason for why a Prince would expect me, or just decide to keep me around.

“Forgive me, but may I inform someone of a higher station that you are awake so that they may treat with you? They would be better served to answer your questions.”

“Go on ahead,” I saw no reason to deny her.

She made her exit swiftly, leaving the room.

Climbing out of bed, I looked over my clothing. I was dressed in lacy lavender nightclothes. The thought of someone undressing me without my permission unsettled me. I pushed the feeling aside. Considering I had been asleep for over a year, I acknowledged that it was a necessity for whoever took care of me.

Why they took care of me was an open question, but I expected to learn that soon.

I ran my hands through my hair. To my surprise, it was in much better condition than I expected. I wondered if it was due to my otherworldly nature, or something else.

I could feel the faint presence of seven ghosts hovering behind me. The price I had paid for burning through all of them was far higher than I wanted to pay again.

Time, that was the cost of using them.

As an imposition, it made sense. That didn’t make it hurt any less. I didn’t really fully understand what not ageing meant. I imagined that I would not until my first friend passed away because of old age, while I remained unchanged. Even if I lived forever, time with the people I cared about was the most valuable resource I had.

And I had just lost over a year of it.

Suffice to say, I wouldn’t be consuming all seven ghosts again, except in the most severe of circumstances.

That didn’t mean not using them at all, it just meant being more conservative with the number of ghosts I utilized.

Chilly air clung to my skin, and the cool of the wooden floor was uncomfortable underfoot as I searched for a change of clothes. To my annoyance, there wasn’t one.

I don’t want to meet people in pyjamas!

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in my room to transmute into something I could wear. I was tempted to go ahead with it regardless and damn the consequences, but decided against it. I could sit through a little indignity for now.

But there was nothing preventing me from pushing back the cold. A gentle aura of warmth exuded from my skin. It likely made the air cooler for everyone else, but unlike me, they had proper clothes.

With nothing else to do, I padded my way over to the curtains and pushed them aside. Unornamented windows were hidden behind them. I peered down at a fortress city. Steep walls and a tense atmosphere seemed to hang around the place. Even in what I guessed to be early pre-dawn, people were on high alert.

The dream came back to me and with it, a muted urge to mend the worlds’ many faults. In my mind’s eye, the shattered mosaic dangled. I turned away from it.

The dream came back to me. It was significant, I knew that. A story that was tied deeply to my Name. I didn’t know why that was the case, but if I wanted to progress with my goals, then one day I would need to investigate.

I suspected the pull came from deep within the Chain of Hunger.

Despite having been given what seemed like a heroic quest, I did not consider it to be an urgent task. The challenge that I wanted to take on, wasn’t one that I could do alone. I wasn’t willing to rely entirely on a silver arrow to solve it.

I took a moment to look over Rhenia. The place was grim. Beset by Ratling raids during the Spring, it had fought a protracted defensive war for hundreds of years. It was hard to make out the figures below in the light, but even this early, the place was a hive of activity.

Right now, I had two immediate concerns. The first was figuring out my own circumstances. I needed to determine what Cordelia Hasenbach wanted. The second was starting to search for Roland.

Starting work on removing villains was a distant third.

In my mind, the first step for the third could include the second. If I wanted to change the world, I would need influence with the people who shaped it. Finding one person across an entire continent wasn’t something I could expect to achieve alone, but it was something I could do with the backing of a Prince.

Convenient how it seemed that there was one of those nearby.

At least Cordelia didn’t try to kiss me awake.

Calernia was the type of place where that story would actually work.

Now I just needed to work out how to earn her trust.

I heard the clip-clop of boots against hard stone coming from outside the door.

The door opened and admitted an armoured soldier, accompanied by a man in servant’s livery.

“Good morning, Chosen,” the servant greeted me, bowing subserviently. He looked utterly mortified at the tear tracks marring my face.

“Good morning,” I replied.

“Her Highness, Cordelia Hasenbach wishes to know the correct manner of address when speaking with you.”

… What?

“Just Chosen, or Taylor I guess. My Name is Aspirant, if she means that.”

Dazed, I endured an extended series of courtesies from the nauseatingly obsequious man. I was given assurances that the person who woke me wouldn’t be bothering me again. After informing him that she hadn’t been a bother and that it was in fact a personal matter, he handed me a robe, then directed me to follow the manservant. I put it on and followed behind.

What were the chances I was housed in the highest room of the tallest tower as well?

Despite not really having the faintest idea where I was, I felt safe. I was in the Principate. Somehow they had discovered that I was a hero, and that was viewed positively here. There weren’t any diabolists who would try to chain me down, and I doubted that other heroes or priests would try to kill me.

It didn’t mean I was perfectly secure or that I could lower my guard entirely, but it was the safest I had been in a long time.

For once, I could let my hair down.

I was guided down a stairwell and into a dressing room a few corridors away. There, I was asked if I would need assistance in order to make myself presentable.

From his choice of words, I felt like I was being called some sort of country bumpkin. It wasn’t said offensively, the man was servile to a fault, but that didn’t stop it from feeling demeaning. Refusing the assistance, I pushed down the indignation that rose up at the implication and reminded myself that I wasn’t an aristocrat.

Browsing what was on display, I found to my amusement that every item of clothing was marked with the emblem of a wolf. I had no intention of wearing the livery of the Lycaonese unless I was actually aligned with them. I did take a moment to clear my own face, before thinking over what I wanted to look like.

If my appearance mattered, then it followed that I was going to be meeting someone important. The trouble was, I didn’t have the right context to interpret the meanings that would be implied from different choices of clothing. The only Proceran politics I knew was what I had learned through arguing with Roland and Max. Among the rest of Calernia, the place had a reputation for being a nest of snakes. I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot, or else the vipers would bite me.

If I wanted to play it safe, I needed to go with choices that were obvious.

What did I know about my host? They knew I was a hero, and they had been respectful of that. That meant that playing into heroism was a safe decision here. Heroes stereotypically wore whites and golds, right? I would go with that.

It was unlikely anything fit me properly, but I would just reshape whatever I settled on to fit regardless.

Looking through the available choices, I started to undress, then started to put on an elegant white princess dress. The flared hemline came down to my knees, and the dress itself was decorated with more than the bare minimum in the way of adornment. There was some golden lace ornamenting the sleeves and neckline.

… Fortunately, there weren’t any crystal slippers here, I wasn’t prepared to go that far. I’d just suffer with some matching gloves and boots that looked made from the pelt of some white rabbit instead. The fur tickled against my ankles as I put the boots on.

In combat, it would be completely impractical, but talking to a Prince would be an entirely different kind of fight.

Much like everything else, the dress featured the typical Lycaonese crest. Frowning, I considered the wolf. I hadn’t actually thought up a symbol for myself. As far as I knew, heroes in Calernia didn’t really have much in the way of awareness of their own image. In future, it was something I might need to decide on. For now, I simply had the symbol fade away. It may not be my dress, but if the person I was meeting wanted me to put on airs, then they would have to live with that.

Besides, I could always recreate the wolf later.

I examined myself in the mirror.

In spite of my scarring, the dress did look good on me. I had the appearance of the most stereotypical storybook heroine you could possibly imagine, but it was the angle I was trying to play.

Do I airbrush myself?

I could do it. In fact, I knew it would be easy. My mind rebelled at the thought. I liked who I was, and my scars were proof of what I had been through.

I wasn’t prepared to change myself that way just to impress a Prince.

It meant that I would probably be viewed as either a hard labourer or soldier. Someone who wasn’t properly “refined,” but that was fine. Being underestimated would not be a bad thing. Let them think that I was hopelessly out of my depth.

In some ways it was true, even if in others it was not.

So I would play into the naive heroine story. Hero’s stories worked here, and the more you leaned into them, the more effectively they did work. If I was going to be acting up the heroine angle, I may as well lean into all the existing clichés.

I’m going to have to practice making sappy speeches about love and the power of teamwork, aren’t I?

My heart sunk at the thought.

Once I was done changing, I was taken to a walled in garden. I didn’t recognize most of the plants and flowers. Something told me that many of them were out of season and specifically cultivated here. The floral scent was overpowering.

In the middle of the room, a girl sat at a table. Short and slim, she wore a conservative blue dress and looked to be about seventeen to eighteen years of age. She was drinking tea out of a cup, and I noticed that hovering in the background were a series of bodyguards. At a guess, I assumed that she would be the Prince.

Who has tea outdoors at this hour?

“Her Most Serene Highness Cordelia Hasenbach, Prince of Rhenia,” the functionary beside me whispered to me.

The moment I laid my eyes upon her, I could feel the tug from my Name. The urge to mend slowly began to well up within me. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was supposed to fix here, but something about her was important, even if I didn’t know what it was.

This meeting was almost certainly the start of another story.

Was it bad that my first thoughts upon seeing her was a pang of jealousy that her golden locks of hair were better taken care of than my hair was? She looked up my way, then raised an eyebrow at me. I didn’t know the proper terms of address here, and there certainly would be correct ones. The people of Calernia cared deeply about their rulers.

But… did that actually matter?

I was a heroine, and evidently she knew that I was a heroine. If I was aware of how I was supposed to engage with her, I would have, purely because it would help make a good first impression. But I didn’t, and I didn’t want to offend her. I was more likely to offend by failing at an incorrect greeting than by just admitting ignorance entirely.

“Your most Serene Highness,” I said, nodding my head slightly.

“A year and a day after all, just like the owls told her.” Cordelia said under her breath.

… The what told who?

“Welcome to Rhenia, Chosen. I trust you have found our hospitality agreeable?”

There was too much I didn’t know here. I had been brought here when I was more or less in the dark, and I didn’t know any of the rules. How she found out I had a Name and what she wanted from me were both very important questions.

I didn’t like admitting that I wanted help, but I had promised myself I would do so. If she wasn’t willing to help me look for Roland, then I would go to the House of Light instead. I would be surprised if they wouldn’t offer to assist a hero.

“It hasn’t left anything to be desired so far, but I have been asleep for a long time. I also need help to look for someone, and I don’t really know what you want with me.” I finished bluntly.

“Do take a seat,” she said in Chantant, inclining her head slightly towards the opposing chair.

To my amusement, the chair she pointed at had shorter legs. I sat. One of the servants poured me a cup of tea.

“It has been so long since I have had a good cup of tea.” I couldn’t help myself, I sighed in contentment.

“There has been some debate among the wise regarding your nature.” Cordelia mused.

“My nature?” I couldn’t help it, I tensed up as I spoke.

“When you first arrived, the local priests attempted to wake you but were met with little success. They were able to determine that you are under the auspices of Compassion, but little else.”

“What happened next?” I asked woodenly.

I hadn’t woken up caged in wards, so I wouldn’t panic just yet. If Cordelia had hostile intentions for me, she wouldn’t be sitting across from me at a table drinking tea. Obviously, she wasn’t bothered by my origins for some reason.

“Rhenia’s finest wizards were called upon next. The only additional inferences that were made, were to your otherworldly nature. Despite this, they were not able to determine what you actually are. Speculation ranged as far as claiming you are a member of a previously unknown Fae court, given the manner of your arrival.” the Prince explained.

That meant they knew far more about me than I would have liked.

“What else did they discover?”

“There was some debate about whether you were more or less dangerous than a Fae Prince. They suggested containing you, but Agnes advised against it.”

Whoever Agnes was, it sounded like I owed her. If I had woken up chained down by wards… I wasn’t sure what I would have tried to do.

“Which brings us to the question of what manner of address is correct for one of your station,” Cordelia finished.

Oh.

They thought I was an important figure in an otherworldly court of some kind. That… Probably explained the stark terror the poor servant had been struck by. It would be funny how much I had completely misread this entire situation, were it not for the fact that now I needed to decide what to make of it.

How do I answer this?

I could pretend to be somebody of significance, but then I’d actually have to act that way. I didn’t believe for one moment I could pull that off for long. It was better for me to just remain sparse on details, but be truthful in what I do disclose.

“Where I come from, I’m nobody important.”

I couldn’t read her expression, but something told me she didn’t believe me. It didn’t really matter. Right now, I was more worried about Roland. If anyone knew something about him around here, it would be her.

“Have there been any letters for me from a man named Roland? He’s also known as the Rogue Sorcerer.”

“No attempts to communicate with you have made their way to Rhenia,” she denied. “What is the last date that you can recall?”

That… wasn’t good news. She could be lying to me, but I doubted it. If she had ill intentions for me, the year I had spent asleep was plenty of time to see them through.

I hoped Roland wasn’t trapped somewhere.

Turning my attention back to her question, I considered what to say. I wasn’t sure how much Cordelia knew. Being evasive would be playing it safe, but if I earned her enmity, I wasn’t sure how much it would set back my long term goals. Best to give her the broad details of what happened, but not disclose too much about what I could actually do.

“It was sometime in the year thirteen-seventeen, and I was fighting with a villain called the Arcadian Artist in Liesse. Then the Warlock, the Princess of the High Noon and the Prince of Nightfall arrived. As I was making my escape, I was thrown into Arcadia. After killing the Artist, I walked for a long time. And now I have awoken here,” I summarized.

“That confirms you are the fourth figure at the battle in Liesse,” she mused.

“I was noticed?”

“Indeed. Your efforts to contain the conflict, direct the evacuation, and modulate the city’s emotions made quite the impact. There is a substantial amount of goodwill for you in Callow, you know.” Cordelia finished.

“Why?”

“Were it not for you, most of the people living in Liesse would be dead. Your warning was sufficient for many to evacuate. The city is in the process of being reconstructed as a result.”

I knew I should feel happy about the people I saved, but all I could think of was the sheer scale of the tragedy that had occurred. How many people had died. How an entire city had basically been written off.

No, Taylor, focus on the positives here.

There weren’t really any.

But… I would treat the people that escaped as a positive. I would focus on the fact that I was able to make a difference, because if I only looked at the negatives, I would drown myself in misery. It likely wasn’t a healthy outlook, but in a world like Calernia, it was one I would need to maintain.

I turned my mind back to the conversation. I was about to ask why they would want to live in the aftermath of a disaster zone, when I realized what a stupid question it was. After Leviathan arrived, I hadn’t left Brockton Bay. The residents of Liesse would have the same attachment to their homes.

“What’s happened since then? I was in Arcadia, so I would have missed anything important.”

It surprised me that she was doing as much as taking even a moment of time out of her day to talk to me. But I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“You have missed much, then. In the two years that have passed…”

She continued to talk, filling in the details that I had since missed. The Artist had visited Rhenia a few years past and left a portrait tainted with blood behind as a permanent exit. It was safely stored away in a long abandoned warehouse.

A hero called the Augur had informed Cordelia about my arrival, and people she trusted had been dispatched to collect me. The painting had since been burned and the entrance was gone.

My escape from Arcadia was frankly ridiculous. It was the kind of utterly implausible bullshit luck that only ever happens to heroes in stories. But just because it seemed silly to me, didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to rely on it as a last ditch plan.

The war in the Principate had continued. More and more people bled, and Aisne had almost fallen apart entirely. There had been two failed uprisings in Callow since the catastrophe in Liesse. All the Princes were calling for a crusade against Praes, but none of them were willing to put aside their own ambitions and allow someone else to lead.

One fact bothered me. I had been within Rhenia for a year. The Eyes of the Empire almost certainly knew I was here, and I’d be willing to bet the Warlock knew what I was. The fact that it hadn’t been used in an attempt to slander me already only meant that they had deeper schemes afoot.

Calling me out as a demon was an easy way to see that I was killed.

“Not to be rude, but I would like to know what you want from me and if you can help me out,” I asked bluntly.

“In the interest of being somewhat transparent, in a few days hence Rhenia will declare for the throne of First Prince. Having the support of a heroine would help tie the House of Light to my cause.”

Her face was a mask and I couldn’t read it at all, but it didn’t really matter here.

I was certain there was more to it than what she had asked for. Surely there were better reasons to keep me around than the potential influence with the clergy? Her wizards had allegedly compared me to a Fae Prince, although I certainly didn’t feel that strong. Maybe that was part of the motivation? Either way, I would find out what she wanted me for as the discussion dragged on.

“Have you asked other heroes before me for their support?”

There was no way that she wouldn’t have.

“Others among the Chosen have all been approached. They have all abjured involving themselves in the squabbling of mortal affairs,” she admitted.

“Why ask me then?”

“The Augur assured me that your assistance will prove pivotal in the coming years.”

So she was approaching me on the words of an oracle, not only because I was her last option. I had also thrown away my world on the words of a prophet, so it shouldn’t surprise me that someone else would do the same.

I wasn’t sure how capable this Augur was, or how much trust I should put in their words. It was better for me to find out more before I warned Cordelia off them, I didn’t want to give offence.

The question I found myself asking was why should I support her over anyone else? Actually, what I needed to know is why I should consider involving myself in the civil war at all. Before making a decision, I would need answers, and there were very few people better positioned to give me them than she was. They would likely be presented in a way to appeal to me, but unless she was offering to help me find my friend, there was no pressing reason to accept immediately.

“There is more you aren’t saying,” I began.

“And you believe that, without knowing the finer details, you cannot accept my offer?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

She eyed me for a moment, saying nothing as she did.

“How much do you know about the civil war?” she asked eventually.

I shrugged, “About as much as anyone else who lives as a traveller on the road.”

“Procer has been at war for itself now for fourteen years,” she began. “It is a war that has become increasingly bitter with time. If the conflict continues for much longer, the Principate will splinter entirely and become a series of unconnected provinces.”

“Are you certain of this?”

“Every Summer, the warring Princes field armies against each other. They do not give battle at each other homes directly. It would be considered uncouth. Instead, they burn fields and slaughter peasants, making a mockery of the oaths they claim to uphold. With each year, the hatred grows more entrenched, and soon it will reach a breaking point.”

I wasn’t aware of the specifics involved in funding a war. It wasn’t like I had ever had to pay for one. For a brief period of time, though, I had tried to organize disaster relief in a city ravaged by Leviathan. It was a nightmare of a task. Ensuring that the right goods reached the right people was both costly and time-consuming. That was in a world with much better logistics networks. Which left me with a question I wanted to know the answer to.

“How can the Princes keep fighting like this, surely they can’t afford to?”

“They are funded by Malicia through the Pravus bank in Mercantis.”

“And the Princes know this?” I took another sip of tea, waiting for her to respond.

“They are aware of it.” Cordelia was caustic in her delivery, “Their enmity for each other simply trumps their willingness to stop fighting.”

So the Princes of Procer were willing to take money from their alleged enemy. The enemy that they were claiming they wanted to start a crusade against. Truly, Calernia never failed to surprise me. From the sounds of things, none of them were deserving of a position of leadership at all.

Cordelia was right. If the situation was not alleviated, the Principate probably wouldn’t survive.

I wasn’t entirely sure whether its existence was necessary for my goals or not. No matter what she told me, it was unlikely I would be coming to a decision on this any time soon.

“Does it matter if they are independent provinces or a unified polity?” I challenged.

She didn’t look particularly pleased at the question.

“If this happens,” she stressed, “it means that Levant will likely gobble up Orense and Segovia, and Tenerife will become one of the Free Cities. Then the Dread Empire will take Bayeux and Orne before a decade has passed.”

I didn’t know where she was going with this. So I kept quiet and waited for her to continue.

“If the Principate splinters, it means that the next time the Dead King rouses his armies and crosses the lakes, Rhenia will have nobody to come to us in support. It means that when the Chain of Hunger gathers might for an invasion, there is nobody to bolster our strength and push them back.” She finished.

“So you feel a unified Principate is necessary to drive off the larger evils.” I summarized.

If the only common thread between the different principalities was a need to band together against enemies, I didn’t see why they couldn’t simply maintain a defensive pact instead. They acted like completely different countries. Trying to bind them together in the current system clearly wasn’t working.

Ideally, people would work together, but just forcing them together in an arrangement nobody agreed with wasn’t the way to do that.

“It is,” she affirmed. “I know that the Chosen often consider matters of state like this to be worthy of contempt. But if there isn’t a unified Procer, the next time Evil rises up, Evil will win.”

It was a pretty speech, but I wasn’t convinced.

“And what makes you better than any of the others?”

“I am the only one not taking loans.”

“If you don’t have the deepest pockets, then how do you think you can win?” I pressed.

“The Augur is my cousin, she is a heroine with oracular abilities. She can sift through patterns and make sense of the future.”

Well then.

I had known that there was a prophet involved in this somehow, but not just how closely Cordelia and the oracle were entwined. It changed things, but I wasn’t sure if it was for the better. I finally understood where the tugging came from. It was obvious, really. It should have occurred to me much sooner.

“– Calamity did strike;

With the theft of the Owl”

Haunting words came back to me. Words spoken right before I had found the Artist. Clarity. It was like being dunked in a frozen lake.

The Bard had spoken those words. How she learned them, I did not know. I had more than a few questions for her if she was still alive. I wouldn’t judge yet, maybe knowing stories was just a part of what made her a Bard. There was a chance it was just coincidence. I had relied on providence to guide me. If she was a hero, perhaps she was doing the same? It would explain why she helped me later on. It all depended on how those questions were answered, and it was a moot point if she was dead.

But ultimately, the meaning behind the song were more important than whom sung it.

At the back of my mind, the tune continued to play.

“And in destruction's wake;

Declared the beast most feared

A contest held by man;

That no animal cheered.”

“They banded together;

And then called for a truce

Driving terror away;

But faith had been cut loose”

“For lo, the Owl hooted;

Soon the end, it doth come

At the hands of the man;

But keep hope, don't be glum”

I turned my attention away from the song.

Step by step, Creation had been walking me through my own narrative. From the painted dragon all the way to the kraken. It had a different spin on it and didn’t hit all the same notes. Almost as if it were telling a heroine’s version of my tale. Regardless, the truth remained the same.

I already knew how my story ended, and that terrified me.

“Is something the matter?” Cordelia asked.

“Has the Augur predicted the end of the world soon?”

Everyone called the people from Procer snakes. If Cordelia was to one day lead them, that would make her the biggest snake of them all. She would be Creation’s stand in for Coil. Was I destined to kill her one day? How much could I trust her?

It seemed like she already wanted me to help her secure territory. I suppressed the urge to laugh.

“Is that something to be concerned about?” Cordelia replied. She looked surprised at the question. It was the first time her mask had broken.

That also meant the Augur was Creation’s stand-in for Dinah Alcott. Should I ask if I could meet with the Augur for later? No, no need. If the girl was Cordelia’s cousin, it was unlikely she was being mistreated. In the event that Cordelia and I worked together, sooner or later I would meet with her and I could judge then.

Learn more before you act, Taylor.

Creation’s retelling of my story had not matched exactly. If I operated under the impression that I should expect the same chain of events, I would start making dangerous mistakes.

“This…sequence of events. I have seen one like it play out before. It ended badly. Really, really badly.”

I thought about my story for one moment. About whether I should follow it deliberately to try to force change that way, then I dismissed the thought. No, I wasn’t willing to walk the same path once more. Furthermore, forcing events of that magnitude to occur just for the weight of the narrative wouldn’t be ethical at all.

That was the road a villain would walk. A hero would look for a better one.

“To date, she has not. Inquiries will be made on the subject,” she said perfunctorily, as if she didn’t expect it to matter. That didn’t really surprise me. If someone who wasn’t an oracle told me the world was about to end, I wouldn’t believe them, either.

Get a grip, Taylor.

Shaking myself mentally, I shoved my internal panic aside. I had followed the words of a prophet once and lived to regret it. I wouldn’t be following them again. While I was certain Creation had world ending threats, I suspected it wouldn’t pull one out unless it were required.

Which meant that I needed to do my best to change the nature of the story.

The easiest way would be to just break off any relations with Cordelia. But…were there other options?

No, think it through.

Coil had been exceptional at what he did. If this was supposed to be his heroic counterpart, she would almost certainly be talented as well. But… just because Cordelia Hasenbach was able to fill the role of Coil, did not make her Coil. I shouldn’t treat her like Coil. That would be unfair to her.

I would give her a chance to prove herself one way or the other.

Could I manipulate this story? Twist it into the shape I wanted. If there was any story I could deliberately interfere with, this would be the one. This story belonged to me. Now that I had identified it, I wondered what I could do with the different elements.

The Nine would likely come next, or something just like them. Whatever the local version of them was, I wasn’t opposed to seeing them gone.

“To clarify, you want me to help you secure the Principate?” I brought the conversation back on track.

“That is essentially correct.”

I didn’t like the idea of fighting for a ruler. The idea of killing people didn’t bother me. I had long since come to terms with that. But there was a difference between killing someone in self-defence or to make the world a better place, and killing people to work out who sat in a fancy chair.

With time, I had come to regret almost everything I had done when working for Coil.

This wasn’t a fight for survival. It wasn’t even a fight to determine what’s right. It was purely about power and power alone.

For me, that was the biggest hole in Cordelia’s speech. She had built her argument around her impressions of a hero, she had not built it around me. In most cases, a hero’s first concern was fighting against the Dead King or the next crusade against Praes. Those were important, I acknowledged as much, but to me, they were only stepping stones. They weren’t the battle I was trying to fight.

As it stood right now, if the Dead King were to disappear, there would always be another one. I wanted to make sure that he stayed gone.

I needed to know if Cordelia Hasenbach was the right person for grander tasks. Was she capable of helping me build the landscape of the future? I needed to know if she could help me come up with the right kinds of policies to prevent the birth of new villains. All she had done is tell me why she believed she is the least wrong person to rule the Principate.

The easiest way to find out was to simply ask her, and I intended to do so, after I had more time to think over everything else. I wanted time to process my own emotions before I gave this more thought.

But having the option to progress my own goals through manipulating my own story was tempting. I would need someone like her for my plans to work. Regulating stories meant shaping cultures. That meant I needed to be involved with the governing of the continent at some level. If I were to spend my time running an empire, I wouldn’t have time for anything else.

I didn’t want to run an empire, either.

That meant I would need to come to know whoever I wanted for the role exceedingly well, and that person could possibly be Cordelia. So it was important for me to determine whether she was the kind of person I could trust.

Fate seemed to think she was. After all, Rhenia was the furthest Principality I possibly could have ended up in.

If I did decide to work with her, it would be markedly different from my relationship with Coil. I didn’t know if she truly understood what I could do, but I did know that I had a lot more to offer her than I had to offer Coil. Unlike Coil, Cordelia didn’t have much leverage.

If there was to be a long term alliance here, it would be one that was far more equal.

And the kind of relationship I would need with someone like Cordelia would have to be based on trust and a tight friendship. It couldn’t be based on anything else. I was trusting someone to help me build my dream. That wasn’t the kind of role you delegated to someone you didn’t consider a close friend.

“I have my own problems. If I were to assist you with the civil war, would you be able to help with mine?”

It was best to find out if there was any room to negotiate with her first, before I started considering the finer details. Ultimately, this wasn’t even a big concession for her. I required someone with many connections to help me find Roland, but that could be anyone. I was certain the House of Light would help me out, even if she wouldn’t.

If she wasn’t willing to do this much, then it was best I abandoned any idea of working with her entirely.

“That depends on the nature of what you seek assistance with,” Cordelia stated.

“Would you be able to help me find someone?” I asked. “There was another hero with me at the time of my fight. The Rogue Sorcerer. I want to know where he went.”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“What makes you certain that he is not dead.”

“Part of my Name.”

“It can be investigated,” she acquiesced.

She seemed dubious at my explanation, but didn’t try to contest it.

That was a start.

“For personal reasons, I need to journey deep into the Chain of Hunger. To do so, I will need support along the way.” I continued to lay down my cards.

I suspected that I could journey there alone, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. The cost of being wrong wasn’t worth it when there was nothing stopping me from simply finding people to help me.

Cordelia grimaced, “We are already risking too much with the people we will be pulling from the defence of Rhenia. I cannot afford to help you with this.”

“I don’t need you to help me right now, or even any time soon. I can find others who are willing to assist me. I am simply explaining my position.” I stated.

There was no harm in laying the groundwork for the journey in advance, even if I had no short term plans for setting out on the quest.

“After the civil war is brought to an end, I could possibly spare soldiers for an expedition,” she offered.

There it was. She was willing to at least budge a little. Enough that I would consider entertaining her offer.

“Do you mind if I think this over? I would like some time to consider the matter first.”

If I did decide to help her, my assistance would come with many strings attached. I would need to take time to define exactly what those strings were.

“This is acceptable. The guards are already aware that you have permission to enter and leave the fortress at your own discretion.”

It went unsaid that there were areas I couldn’t visit, but I that was to be expected.

“How will they identify me.”

She gestured to an attendant behind her and muttered a few words. Moments later, they brought forward a lapel badge showing a wolf chewing on a rat.

“Put this on, it marks you as a guest.”

“Thank you.”

Taking the badge, I pinned it to my dress.

We passed a few more courtesies before I left the table. Whatever decision I made here, wouldn’t be one made in haste. I would talk to the people around the keep and learn what I could about its ruler.

What kind of woman was Cordelia Hasenbach. Could I trust her to help me build the world I wanted?

This decision was pivotal, and was not one that I wished to regret.