Equimancer's Realm

  “Hmmm… Do you think Liona is…?”

  “Is what?”

  “Pregnant?” Gloria shrugged.

  “What? Of course not! If anything, she complained that Sylvain hasn’t even kissed her properly. It’s all very innocent,”

  “Interesting,” Gloria muttered.

  Royal Palace of Sunflare, Realm’s Heart Island

  Sister Nocturnia stood at the gilded window and looked at the sleeping city.

  She was an Equimancer, a protector of the Balance and the Structure.

  An upholder of Equality and Equilibrium, like every single member of the Academy.

  What set them apart from the rest of the Realm, was their ability to unlock and make use of powers that were dormant in everybody.

  Unbeknownst to most; she wore an Equimancer’s Crown.

  The unmistakable indication of an Apt - someone possessing Aptitudes and abilities - that was only visible for the ones who possessed the same powers; the faint, halo-like shimmer surrounding the person, strongest above the top of the head, hence the name.

  Its colour depended on the Aptitudes one possessed.

 

  Nocturnia enjoyed the calmness and the silence of the night. It was the best time to think. Usually, the sight of the dark sky and sparkling stars gave her peace. Even though last night she had allowed herself some distraction, the dark thoughts that occasionally troubled her since the news about the suicide of the Covaxian governor, surfaced again.

  “Why did you get up?” Octarian stirred under the luxurious covers of his bed.

  “Firstly, because you turned over and started to snore. Secondly, shhh, go back to sleep.”

  “If by that you mean to gather more energy for later, yes Professor.

  Just prod me when you’re done… whatever it is that you’re doing,” he murmured.

 

  Octarian was very proud of himself. He had been trying for years to succeed with her. In the first three years of his studies, it was absolutely out of the question to have any romantic relationships with an Academy member. When it became possible, he had never found the right occasion to approach her. What a stroke of luck it was, that Nocturnia was in Winterhaven when he arrived there. She was exactly as he liked his women; independent with no claims on his freedom.

  His last encounter with Gloria worried him somewhat though. Surely, for a woman of her stature he was but an innocent fling.

  ‘Maybe not that innocent, but still. T’s all good.’ With that happy thought he fell asleep again.

  Nocturnia poured herself a glass of Cadentian sparkle and went back to the window. She frowned and took a sip of her wine.

  Like her fellow Professors, she couldn’t get the note that the Covaxian Mayor had left behind, and the dagger which he had taken his life with, out of her mind. They gave ground to the wildest speculations. She didn’t like the situation. She didn’t like it at all.

  Nevertheless, there was nothing she could do about it now.

  What she did like on the other hand, was Octarian’s chivalrous act of cutting his holidays short to travel back to the Island. Just to make sure she was alright. Even though she had been adamant that their intimate relationship couldn’t continue on the Island, such a noble gesture had to be rewarded.

  Nocturnia smiled, finished her glass, went back to bed and prodded Octarian.

  Bowman Mansion, Stingray Harbour, Pyonia

  Lord Tolzan Bowman, Mayor of Stingray Harbour and Governor of Pyonia sat at his desk in his lavishly decorated study. He nodded at the pile of papers in front of him and then carefully placed them into a folder.

  ‘That should do,’ he thought, ‘once Reedheart becomes Mayor-Governor, he can always consult those.’

  He leant back, and stared at the darkness beyond the window.

  He remembered Arpya’s hysterical tantrums and the fear in her eyes while she begged him repeatedly not to accept the title of Lord, and not to become the Mayor of Stingray Harbour.

  “When they find out you’re an unregistered Apt, they will take you away. And they will find out! You can’t live in the public eye. Please don’t do it, please… I will die if they take you away,” she used to sob and either sink to the floor or throw herself on the bed.

  Back then, ten years ago, it used to be torture to see her in agony.

  Back then, if he didn’t touch her for a few weeks, desire used to take over his whole body and mind.

  He had already known back then that the tie between them was fading, but at least it scared him.

  Tolzan closed his eyes and tried to relive the feelings; the pain, the desire and the fear.

  ‘Nice try,’ he shook his head at his foolishness.

  As expected, – the only thing he found was Emptiness.

  Ten years ago he was adamant. The First One agreed and had his election arranged.

  Tolzan had become the second most important person in Pyonia after Empress Sidonia.

  Now it would come to an end.

  Tauntall was dead and there was nobody else who could take over his task. Within a year, he would have to resign and have Vice Mayor Reedheart elected as the new Mayor-Governor.

  He sat next to the fireplace and read the Stingray Harbour News from cover to cover. Then, he picked up a copy of the Island Journal; he had always made sure to be informed about the events of the Capital.

  Royal Engagement

  A report by our Royal Correspondent Lufticus Quabblepeek

  The Realm is in upheaval; an event we’ve all been waiting for has happened! An event that is unparalleled by any other event in decades!

  The most fabulous engagement since Princess Eldorine and Emperor Donis!

  Her Majesty, the Royal Princess Liona Sunflare has accepted the marriage proposal of his Majesty, Crown Prince Sylvain Wintersky.

  The excitement about the impending nuptials that is rippling through our great Continent is palpable.

  Our beloved Nation will rejoice at the greatest of celebrations; the Royal Wedding, that will define the very nature of our future by reinforcing the bond between the two of the most influential Houses of the Realm.

  We will keep our readers up-to-date on the impending festivities.

  “You talentless scribbler,” Tolzan shook his head.

  ‘Won’t happen,’ he thought. It wasn’t part of the Plan.

  “It is time, my Lord,” his manservant, Nay appeared at the door of Tolzan’s study.

  “Very well, let’s go,” he said.

  He got into his carriage and let Nay, his most loyal subject, take him to the industrial part of Stingray Harbour. Tolzan’s carriage stopped at the back of a warehouse. Nay got out, and disappeared for a few minutes into the warehouse. He returned in the company of another man. They both got into the carriage.

  “Was everything alright during your passage?” he asked the man.

  “Yes, my Lord, everything went according to plan. The refugees have reached their destination. The embermoss is loaded and ready to ship.

  Here’s the list,” he handed over a piece of paper.

  Tolzan took it and read through it. Twenty crates. A hundred vials per crate. As usual.

  “Good.”

  The man nodded and made his way back into the warehouse with Nay.

  Once Nay reappeared, he placed a crate next to Tolzan.

  The Mayor opened it. A hundred vials.

  He randomly picked one, uncorked it and gave it a little sniff.

  Tolzan nodded.

  There was really no need for him to be here; Nay knew exactly what to do, but Tolzan couldn’t help it; he had a task, therefore he had to make sure that it was carried out flawlessly.

  Fegilovíxit, Areshadia

  Matriarch Vipra surveyed the men lined up in front of her.

  It was the Day of Selection for the Gathering.

  The candidates were on their hands and knees, their heads pressed to the floor of her throne room.

 
Their desperate thoughts and prayers were clearly audible in her mind.

  “Úlmá, tiyirniss.”

  “Ezkimin, zipíkz.”

  “Tílrit, mi impin fóroxx, Úlmán.”

  “Yoyezkimin, yoyezkimmán…”

  Suddenly, she stopped in front a man. She couldn’t hear any of his thoughts.

  She looked into his mind.

  Nothing.

  She raised her eyebrows and thought for a second.

  “Tevirí! Nembimte!” She ordered everybody out.

  “Except you,” she stepped on the hand of the candidate, who had no thoughts.

  “Úlmá, are the men you just dismissed the selected ones?” the overseer of the candidates asked.

  “Have I said a single word about the Selection?”

  “No, Úlmán.”

  “Do you want to be skinned alive in front of them all?”

  The overseer shook his head, and hastily herded the men out of the throne room, cracking his whip at them.

  “Close the door. I don’t want to be disturbed,” Vipra ordered the guards at the door.

  The man in front of her hadn’t moved. There was still not a single thought escaping his mind.

  “How do you do it?”

  He still didn’t move.

  “Oh for Gods’ sake, stand up and start talking. Who are you?”

  “I’m Nay, your Chief Librarian, the Keeper of the Tomes, Úlmán.”

  “Didn’t you know that I forbade everybody from reading them? On the pain of death? A very slow and painful death at that.”

  “Yes, I was aware of your decree, Úlmá.”

  “Yet you did it anyway.”

  The Librarian said nothing and thought nothing.

  “Open your mind when you talk to me, if you don’t want me to cut off the top of your head. Why did you do it?”

  “To get your attention. I hoped one day you’d notice, Úlmán,” he looked at her boldly, his mind open now. She saw he said the truth.

  “You opposed me, risking your life? Why?”

  “Because you could use someone like me. I would do anything for you. I would die for you.”

  “You would be not much use to me if you were dead. Can you hear my thoughts?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is there anything you learnt from the tomes apart from apparently having perfectly mastered closing your mind?”

  “Unfortunately not, Úlmán. I didn’t succeed in unlocking any Aptitudes or the ability to see minds. Naturally, I do know that you have shamanistic abilities, but your litch-light isn’t visible to me.”

  “Do you speak the Ancient Tongue?”

  “Perfectly, I like to think, though I’m not sure what my pronunciation is like.”

  “Get in there and don’t talk. I need to think,” Vipra indicated towards the shallow pool filled with orchid-scented, warm water.

  Vipra took a seat on her throne, drumming her fingers on the arm-rest, gazing into space.

  After a while she stood up, undressed and slid into the pool, next to the man.

  The Librarian hesitated only for the fracture of a second; he knew he was more likely to be killed for asking stupid questions than for taking the initiative.

  ‘If I’m wrong, at least I’ll die a happy man,’ he thought.

  The next two hours proved to the Librarian that taking a risk had paid off. He experienced ecstasy he never thought possible.

  “You have performed a Binding Ritual on me. One that will tie us together for life,” he stated once he regained the strength and cerebral ability to talk again.

  “So you’ve read that tome as well then.”

  “I’ve read them all, Úlmán.”

  “Yes, I did perform the ritual. Does that make you angry?”

  “No. It makes me proud. It means that you have a use for me.”

  “I do indeed. You will go to the Realm.”

  “Any particular orders?”

  “No, you seem to be smart enough to know what to do. You will come back in two years.”

  “As you command, Úlmán… Will this happen again?”

  “Why not? If you deliver, so will I.”

  ***

  Vipra woke with a start. The recurring dream of the Ritual always did that to her.

  ‘It seems my Librarian had a bad day,’ she thought, lay back and fell asleep.

  ***

  Nay opened his eyes.

  As always, when he had what he called the ‘Ritual Dream,’ he found himself in his bed, on a wet patch. He got up to get a dry sheet.

  He smiled to himself.

  The Matriarch was rarely wrong, but this she didn’t get right.

  He knew that this particular dream was the by-product of the Ritual; he was meant to receive it when his dedication was about to wane.

  It never did.

  When he got his second assignment, Vipra promised him riches and a position once he was recalled to Areshadia.

  He didn’t need it, he didn’t want it. He got it anyway.

  “I doubt that my appeal will remain once I’m shrivelled and old,” she told him when he tried to convince her about his dedication.

  “Even without the Ritual, you couldn’t be too shrivelled or too old for me to want you, Úlmán.”

  “Don’t be disgusting. Whether you want it or not, you will be paid twice the amount anybody else could offer you.”

  Not that it mattered, but he knew he was one of the richest men in the whole of Sarea.

  The Academy, Realm’s Heart Island

  “You’re wasting your time, Sunflare. No amount of training can save your hopeless excuse of a team from being squashed,” Princess Ariessa Warhorn of Covax grinned at Octarian, as he passed the Falcon Stables of the Training Grounds on his way to the Shark Pools.

  “It will be an honour to be squashed by you,” Octarian squinted at her.

  “You wish! You’ll never make it that far in the Championship.”

  He knew she was right, but he tried to come up with a clever retort, when they heard flapping of wings from above.

  Two Realm Guards touched down on the ground next to them. They got off their falcons and politely greeted them.

  “Princess Ariessa, we would like to ask you a few questions,” one of the guards said.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Octarian looked at the man, and then at Ariessa.

  “I’d rather you stayed if the officers have no objections,” she said.

  “Yes. I mean, no. No objections, Princess.

  According to our information you had been visited by Lord Mayor Tauntall quite frequently in the past months,” one of the guards said.

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said with a shrug.

  “Could you please tell us what had happened or been said during your last encounter?”

  “I’m no expert, but shouldn’t this conversation take place in the presence of the Warhorns’ lawyers?” Octarian looked at the guards.

  “No, no, you misunderstand, Prince Sunflare. Princess Ariessa is not and will not be accused of anything, but she might have some valuable information for us.”

  “Besides, you are here,” she grimaced at Octarian and then turned to the guards.

  “Yes, I can tell you.

  As Tauntall is the Governor of our country, he’s coming to our palace every month to discuss different matters with my father. In the past year he started to pay me a visit whenever he came to the Island. Which was fine. Boring, but fine.”

  Octarian snorted.

  “Shut up, smartarse,” Ariessa hissed at him and continued.

  “Over the summer, he came to the palace and to the Academy more and more frequently. I don’t think my father even knew that he spent most of his time in the city instead of doing his work in Irontown. At some point I realised that was trying to court me.”

  “So he had started to have romantic feelings for you, Princess?”

  “Not really. I had the feeling that all he wanted wa
s to get himself a Royal wife. He said that he would raise high and had a grand future ahead of him.”

  “Marrying an Emperor’s daughter would do that for you,” Octarian remarked.

  “Anyway, it got so bad that I asked the Academy servants to tell him that I wasn’t around whenever he came here. As he used to be a former student of the Academy, he unfortunately had every right to be here whenever he wanted.

  The other day I ran into him and decided to have a chat with him after all.”

  She took a deep breath.

  “I told him that I would never, ever marry him.

  I said to him that I wasn’t being coy.

  I said something along the lines of:

  ‘Even if you were the last man on Earth I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.

  The thought of you makes me sick to my stomach, and the idea of you touching me, makes me recoil with disgust.

  Don’t ever talk to me again.

  Do you understand?

  Do… you… understand?’

  He said he did and left.”

  “Ouch,” Octarian winced. Ariessa elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Thank you, Princess. I think it’s safe to say that he won’t bother you again,” stated one of the guards.

  “Yes. One of the reasons being that he’s dead,” the other guard said.

  “What do you mean dead? How did he die?” Ariessa demanded.

  “All the signs point towards suicide.”

  “But you’re not sure?” Octarian asked.

  “Oh no, we are certain. He left a will and a suicide note.”

  “So why the investigation?”

  The guards looked at each other for a few seconds.

  “Presently we are not at liberty to share this piece of information.”

  After the guards had left, Octarian turned to Ariessa.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Sunflare, I appreciate your moral support. I mean it. I’ll be off,” she said and walked away.

  The Sweet Pain, Realm’s Heart Island