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Parting Ways

  I quietly returned to the castle, contemplating my options and the days to come. The Count’s death was announced to the city by Ygvarge at dawn, as well as his succession to his father’s position. I only really listened in from the edge of my awareness, as I sat at Calden’s bedside waiting for him to wake, while the finely dressed ghost that had been watching over him, quite creepily, kissed my feet through my boots.

  I’ve asked her to stop at least ten times now, in just as many different ways, but to no avail… Her reaction couldn’t get any weirder either, as if the very notion of stopping is doing her harm… Doesn’t help that Uriel told me that she’s Calden’s departed mother.

  I glanced at the window Uriel provided.

  Uggh. Why do dead people keep making things complicated?

  I endured a few more kisses from the lithe soul before I cleared my throat. “Ester?”

  She answered between smooches, free to do so as her long hair was restrained in an intricate updo. “Yes? Lord?”

  “What do you intend to do after your son wakes?”

  She paused, then smiled so brightly I felt it a shame that she directed it at the floor. “I will do as I always have. What any mother would.”

  Well that’s about what I expected. A little vague, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  I flicked my eyes over to gaze directly at her, and she shuddered. “And how long have you been here? I don’t recall bringing you back when I reached out to him, so what happened?”

  Her ethereally warm kisses resumed in frantic fashion, and she even clutched my leg for good measure before she blurted out. “Forgive him! My son didn’t mean to! He used the power you gave without thinking and then–then I found myself here. I–I–.”

  “Shh.” I placed a hand atop her head, which I found surprisingly solid, and said. “It’s alright. I just wanted to make sure no further complications had arisen on your end.”

  Her trembling lessened, and her voice broke as if she were holding back tears. “Y–your generosity is boundless! T–that you’d allow me to remain here. T–that you’d bless us so!” She swallowed hard, though I wasn’t sure what a ghost had to swallow in the first place. “It is a shame that so little of the Empire believes in you. That our faith has degraded to be considered nothing more than fable and legend. But you live! You are here! You bless us still! And we will right these wrongs in accordance with your will!”

  I blinked. Okay, let’s not go overboard here. A little restraint goes a long way so I should stop this before she gets the wrong idea.

  And just as I was about to open my mouth, Calden deeply inhaled, rubbed his bleary eyes, and slowly sat up. “Anon? L–lord Anon?”

  I winked at him. “Hey kid. Did you have a nice nap?”

  He sat bolt upright, and nodded vigorously. “Yes! I feel so refreshed I don’t even remember how I fell asleep.”

  I scratched my cheek. “What do you remember then?”

  He tilted his head, and looked around the room. “Umm… I remember the big fight with Gretkarn. The reconstruction effort…” He snapped his head back to me. “I was so worried about you! But you’re okay! I never should’ve doubted!”

  I gave a gentle smile and brushed aside a stray lock of his hair. “I appreciate that, but do you remember anything else?”

  He glanced down at his covered feet. “Uh…” He narrowed his eyes. “I… I think I saw some gates at a peaceful place. I saw my mother…” He sniffled a little, I checked Ester’s reaction, but it didn’t look like she’d move without permission, and he didn’t appear to know she was here. “I–I chose to come back. To leave her again. But–but I wanted her to stay with me… I wanted it so much.” He froze, and peeked up at me with sheepish eyes. “I’m sorry. I got a little stuck on the way back because of that. I should have woken up sooner.”

  I patted his head, and shook my own. “Your well being was my only concern. What you use your strength on is your decision.” I then wiped his glistening eyes, and asked. “But you don’t remember being stabbed?”

  His pupils dilated and the blood drained from his face. It took a minute, but he slowly blinked, and slouched a little. “Oh.”

  I shifted to lean against the backboard, pulled him into a side hug, and rubbed his shoulder. “Sorry to bring back painful memories, but unfortunately there’s more you need to know.”

  He sniffled again. “Uncle Linus is dead. He said goodbye…” He pawed at the fat tears oozing from his eyes and whimpered. “I–if I hadn’t been so selfish… If I had woken up when I was supposed to… H–he–.”

  I made a face and lightly chopped him on the forehead. “That’s enough of that. I refuse to hear victims blame themselves for the actions of criminals. You are not at fault, and I will not hear otherwise.”

  He timidly nodded his acceptance of my verdict, and took a minute to recompose himself. Then asked. “Where are Ysdra, Ygvarge, Ymir, and Carmella? Are they alright?”

  “That’s more like it.” I pointed out his window at the nascent light of the new day. “They’re out front, making the needed announcements from the castle walls. They’re all a bit shaken, just like you, but that’s only natural.”

  His eyes followed the direction of my finger and they sparkled both with tears and from the steadily growing light. They skipped straight past Ester though, so even though he’d brought her here, and was tethered to her, he still couldn’t see her. “I–I see. And the people?”

  “Hmm.” I cast my senses out their way and swept as much of the city as I could reach. “They got a little unruly after you were poisoned, but I set them straight, and they look to be taking the morning’s news in stride. After all, Ygvarge appears to be quite the competent leader, and they were just told the imminent and ongoing threats have been resolved.”

  He nodded, slouched a little, and muttered. “W–when is the funeral?”

  I sighed, subtly ushered Ester to hug her son, and echoed what was being announced within the city. “In accordance with the doctrines of his faith, Count Linus Kalsynth will be cremated upon a pyre this evening, at twilight.”

  His lip quivered, and he looked like he was about to object to something, but then he bit it back as Ester embraced him, instead asking. “W–will you go with me? W–will you be at my side?”

  “Of course.”

  His face brightened a little, and he leaned on me a bit more. In a small voice, less than even a whisper, he said. “Thank you.”

  I combed my fingers through his hair, and smiled. No kid. Thank you.

  #

  The day went by quietly. Countless servants hustled to and fro, determined to finish the needed preparations before twilight’s inevitable arrival, while the rest of the Count’s coterie returned to the seemingly endless amount of administration work Linus left behind.

  Calden resumed his outings in the city, raising morale amidst the sombre atmosphere, all while being fussed over by Carmella and several knights, and secretly guarded by the ghost of his mother, who beamed the entire time.

  I was out and about as a pudgy pigeon too, but kept periodic tabs on Linus’ kids, ensuring that none of the aggrieved took the loss too hard, while also scanning the city, both to ensure no further curve balls would strike the freshly recovered Calden, and to monitor the people in general and make sure they were doing alright.

  And they mostly were.

  The change in leadership was a relatively small wave in comparison to the repeated upheavals they’ve been dealing with over the last week, so the emotionally exhausted middle class respected the fallen Count with a few flowers and kind words, but their focus remained on repairing their damaged homes, and healing their own ravaged hearts.

  The high born took it in stride. For them Linus’ death was an opportunity to ingratiate themselves with the new lord, so while they acted heartbroken they were plotting to gain more influence in the newly opened power vacuum. They naturally sent lavish gifts, or as lavish as they could get given the state of the city, and made preparations to ‘comfort’ the grieving family at the funeral.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Surprisingly, those who dwelled in the slums were doing better than those in either of the wealthier districts. I guess not having much to start with and being used to tough times allowed them to take this trial in stride. Old Iskel’s presence helped in no small part too. His healing abilities had really flourished with all the practice he’d been getting, and his little church was now overflowing each time he went to preach.

  It’s good that nobody is too overwhelmed with everything that’s been happening. I’m forever amazed at the resilience of the heart and how even when things get so bleak for so long people will continue to carry on. Now… Let’s go check on Linus.

  His body wasn’t in the castle. As per his will, which Griswold apparently had tucked away somewhere, he was laid out at the city center, cleaned and dressed in his fine military style uniform, for all the people to see. There were four honor guards standing at the corners of the palanquin that they’d used to transport him, and just behind that, a near continual procession of grim-faced castle servants stacked the logs that would become his pyre.

  It’d gotten pretty tall by this point in the day, but instead of a heap that they were intending to place him atop of, it looked more like a furnace that they would stick him inside of.

  I also spotted the elderly head priest of Matweirden’s temple coming and going periodically in a gaudy carriage. He wore some pretty fancy orange and black vestments today, the gold trim and crown-like pontiff’s hat were especially sparkly in the midday sun, and his wild eyes were eager rather than sad and I could guess why.

  I don’t like to think about it, but my presence has impacted the faith in the city. Calden and Iskel especially have made it their mission to inform the masses that I’m connected to the Creator God, so this old dude probably sees this as a chance to reestablish his patron’s foothold in the city.

  My disappointment in the priest and nobles aside, nothing major really happened today, and night soon approached.

  Though now that I think about it, I haven’t seen Soaria at all. I know she was headed back to the city, and given how fast she is she should’ve arrived by now. So where is she? Don’t tell me that dangerous lady got into trouble she couldn’t handle. Or is she actually just taking her time and walking the whole way?

  People slowly gathered from every district until the spacious square, made even larger thanks to the damage, was filled. Even the ruins of nearby buildings were climbed by the more agile and adventurous in order to get a better view, and once all the dignitaries and family members were present the torathan priest began the ceremony.

  “Good people of Kalsynthholm! We are gathered this eve to remember the unyielding sacrifice of our illustrious and pious liege lord, Count Linus Kalsyth. He lived a life dedicated to you, both protecting and guiding in the righteous paths permitted by the Emperor and divine!” He made a broad statement, but swept his eyes to the large banner depicting the half-lady half-tiger that he revered. “Even in these dark times he lived dutifully fighting both with sword and quill to ensure that we could all live and prosper in a better tomorrow.”

  He continued to ramble on about Linus’ many achievements and contributions to the temple, the empire, and the county at large, making every effort to attribute it all to his faith in Matweirden. The Count’s family, Calden, and Carmella listened respectfully, though I could see that Calden, Ysdra, and even Carmella were battling growing consternation and worry. There was even a good chunk of the crowd who appeared to be looking for something that apparently wasn’t around.

  Well, I don’t really know how this ritual is supposed to commence, so I guess I should head down and keep my promise.

  As the eulogy continued, Ymir and Ygvarge were called up in turn to say their piece about their father, so I took the opportunity to flutter down and return to being myself next to Calden.

  I tried to be subtle about it, but I still caught more than a few gasps, excited cheers, and even hushed prayers from the crowd. The high priest shot me a dirty look, but since I didn’t intend to create such a disturbance I ignored him and focused on consoling the teary eyed kids.

  A few more nobles came up to speak about Linus, and then all eyes turned to Ymir. The high priest beckoned him toward Linus’ body. “Honored one, you who have been blessed from among the faithful by lottery, step forward and usher your father into Matweirden’s embrace.”

  I arched an eyebrow. I know that pallbearers are typically family, but to have to do it alone, especially for such an emotional boy, is just too much.

  Ymir hesitated, then proceeded over to his father’s corpse. He knelt for a blessing, but struggled to find the strength to stand.

  I heard Ysdra break down sobbing, watched Ygvarge grimace, and Calden squeeze his fists tight. Nobody else could see or hear her, but Ester was somehow holding him down.

  Is that her protector ability?

  I didn’t even need to ask for an explanation before she turned to me and bowed. “Forgive me, but I can’t allow this. He’s too young. If it must be done, if you are content to allow the tradition to continue, then please lord I beg you to select another.”

  Without needing any more prompting, I stepped up beside Ymir, laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled gently. “Let me take this from here.”

  A gasp rolled through the crowd, the high priest gained a dangerous gleam in his eye, and Ymir stammered. “B–but… I was selected! For his soul… I–!”

  I shook my head and whispered. “I’ve already taken care of that personally. This is just his body, so let me send that off too.”

  Ymir gulped hard, and blubbered at my feet. I took up Linus and got going toward the pyre’s entrance before he could start kissing my feet too, and ignored the shock that spread behind me.

  Oh come on! I’m just carrying him inside! Is this really such a big deal? Wait… don’t tell me they heard what I said to Ymir! I know it got real quiet when I was talking but is that why that cat priest is fuming now?

  I walked slowly inside the wooden structure and laid Linus’ remains down on the platform at the center. I took a second to straighten his hair and outfit, but when I was done I found the entrance closed up with more logs.

  “Hold up. What’s–”

  As if in answer to my question the pyre was assailed with fire magic from all sides and quickly ignited. The kindling all across the floor spread the flames to me and Linus, but a quick application of barrier prevented me or my clothes from catching.

  I guess this whole setup was supposed to be some sorta sacrifice, but that just makes it all the more messed up that Ymir was chosen to accompany his father in death. I could see it making sense from a political standpoint that removing the other viable heir would ease the transition and remove the possibility of dissent, but they said it was a lottery so– Oh man that could’ve been rigged from the start!

  I sat around for a bit, just to watch over the process since my barrier and fire resistance made me only a little uncomfortable, but in spite of the flames spreading over the whole pyre and it looking rather impressive from outside, the actual burning of the count wasn’t very efficient.

  Guess I can help out a bit once I get outta here.

  I didn’t feel like making much more of a scene so I used shifted steps to pop back out behind Calden and co, then cast incinerate to really get things going.

  The already impressive blaze towered up into the now completely dark sky to the hushed awe of the spectators. The high priest started going on about how Matweirden was pleased, but we both noticed too late that everyone was watching me now.

  Embarrassed and fully enraged he stormed away, fleeing the scene in his gaudy carriage.

  Calden and Ysdra both took one of my hands, and she whispered. “Thank you.”

  I held back a chuckle. “Anytime.”

  And together we watched the fire burn into the night.

  #

  Soaria an’Selm stood amidst the crowd gathered at the funerary pyre, and from the shadows of a rooftop Silvia sat and intently observed her. Master Boss spared her. Ordered change. But Silvia knows, Silvia can feel it, she broke free… Silvia cocked her head. So why does she still obey? She made contact with the male, the one beside her… He’s full of faith. Has been helped by Master Boss too. A… Priest? Must protect if she tries something… But she shows no hostility. She even spotted Silvia and… smiled?

  Silvia huffed. “Humans are strange. Danger still possible.”

  Determined to be of use to her Master, Silvia remained vigilant through the night, though Soaria never hurt anyone.

  #

  I remained outside even after everyone else had said their farewells and retired for the evening. Obviously, Calden, Ysdra, and Carmella stuck around after the crowd had dispersed, but even they left at around eleven thirty. Ymir held out until midnight kneeling beside me like some sorta knight, while Ygvarge lingered at my other flank wistfully watching the embers rise. We were silent in our vigil as the flames burned low, and the pyre’s grand structure caved and collapsed into a smouldering lump. But he never said anything to me, and he returned to the castle after one o’clock came and went.

  My magic made sure that there wasn’t anything discernable left of Linus’ body, and even now a steady supply of mana made sure that the whole of the pyre would be reduced to ash, before I’d scatter it all on the wind with a quick hurricane spell.

  “The only thing left to decide is where to go next. Am I off to deal with that malevolent marquis? Or should I take a look into this Matweirden creature and try to find out why she’s been so distant when her followers are faithful and desperate?”

  Uriel buzzed.

  “Huh. Guess there’s that too.”

  #

  Deep within his private study, surrounded by innumerable shelves of ancient, forgotten, and forbidden knowledge Gregorious Durdenhal sat upon a lavish throne, unbound by his plain vestments, deep in contemplation.

  He was human once, but he now looked anything but. Dozens of differently colored eyes combed the pages of just as many books held aloft by his even more numerous appendages. Some were thin and dexterous, others quite the opposite. Some lacked defining structure, while others were so bony that barbs jutted from his discolored and misshapen flesh to form fierce barbs and spines.

  This was the price he paid for power. This was the path he proudly walked in search of the Creator God. This was the way to heaven. To perfection. To ascend. Of this he had no doubt. But what he did doubt were his subordinates.

  “Benedict failed?” A voice that sounded like cancer being squeezed from atrophied vocal chords and ground between jagged and maligned teeth broke the relative silence of this secret place. “I guess that’s all he amounted to. Pathetic, really.”

  Gregorious pondered how easily he’d subdued Matweirden. Supposedly, she was one of the stronger terrestrial deities within the empire’s borders, but he hadn’t even needed to reveal his form to take her down. However, his spies reported something far more exciting to him than reveling in past victories.

  “Anon was it? It intrigues me. My agents couldn’t figure out where it came from. If it can elude them, and escape control, I do wonder how it will fare against the new and improved Matweirden? Shall I arrange a meeting? Perhaps I’ll even invite that stingy Josephene to watch?”

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