Trapped in Another World With No Magic

For once, Daniel has exhausted himself to the point of sleeping well before dinner time. Hekate checked on him, and Gwenesphia, Treia, and Veiranoei are watching over him for the time being, talking quietly nearby. Veiranoei starts to jump up when she spots Hekate, but the young feldrok Empress waves her hands for her to relax. She approaches the table where the three gatonine women are cleaning their swords, with exception of Gwenesphia, who is cleaning the Dragonslayer. Daniel let her use it against the surviving mantaroucks and to finish off Rohgattabor, so she chose to clean it after everything was settled. She’s one of the few who have been taught how to properly disassemble Daniel’s firearms to maintain them.

Hekate takes a seat, speaking softly, “Excuse me for interrupting.”

“Not at all,” replies Treia. “We were just talking about visiting our families when everything settles down. I asked Grand Duchess Aramellianna to reach out to my family and offer my sister and mother to interview for service positions. I don’t know if they’ll accept, but my brothers will be more likely to take interest in the family business.”

Hekate nods, and Gwenesphia explains, “My parents have sent letters to my eldest brother to begin repairing the apiaries and replanting the flower fields. Honey should be our main export again in no time.”

“That’s good. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Is… everything alright, your Greatness?” asks Veiranoei cautiously.

“Yes. Just wanted to check…” She looks at Daniel for a moment. He looks noticeably weary, even asleep, and she sighs. “I’m sure, now, more than ever, we need to come up with something…”

“Will the teleporter not work?” asks Treia. She isn’t especially talented in magic equipment, so she can’t help as much on the teleportation pack as the ones who are working on it. 

Hekate shakes her head. “It will do its job, and I’m sure Wenlianna, Reignleif, and Ahok can make it work. But, what I mean is…” The young ravenette squeezes her fists tightly. “The Devourer is bound to some kind of crystal until he can be revived… If we can, that is.”

“Th-The Devourer?” asks Veiranoei nervously, mindful of her volume.

“We weren't there for it either, but it was a humongous monster Hekate, Daniel, and the dragons killed,” replies Treia.

The feldrok girl in question snickers quietly. “It was mostly Daniel. But, it's a secret.”

“Where did the crystal come from?” asks Gwenesphia. “Are there more?”

“Xyreko gave it to Daniel. Sh-She hasn't said I have to marry him, but…”

“Daniel?” asks Veiranoei, to which Hekate shakes her head, her big triangular ears laying out in disappointment. The three gatonines’ ears also lay flat in sympathy.

But, Treia points out as she looks at Daniel, “Daniel won't allow you of all people to be forced into anything.”

“The fate of the feldroks isn't your fault,” adds Gwenesphia, “Nor your burden to bear.”

Treia adds in the same vein, “I’m not entirely convinced a race can be brought back from a single pair, even if there was a male feldrok. I worry about the dragons… Though, they don’t seem too concerned.”

“Do you… worry about the feldroks becoming extinct, though?” asks Veiranoei.

Hekate is quiet for a moment. “Truth be told… I would be fine if my children were human. Daniel says he likes my ears and tail, but… I wonder if he’d like me more…” She trails off, and Gwenesphia hugs the feldrok girl, surprising her a little.

“Please don’t say that, Hekate,” replies Gwenesphia gently. She adds playfully at a near whisper, “I have it on good authority that Daniel likes to nibble…”

Hekate blushes furiously, going rigid. She may not know entirely what Gwenesphia means, but she knows the situation for which she’s implying it.

Veiranoei’s expression goes flat, and she retorts with a fair hint of sarcasm, “I wonder who ‘nibbled’ on his shoulders.”

Both Gwenesphia and Treia blush, twitching guiltily in response. They glance at each other, and then quickly away at various points of the wall and ceiling. 

The gatonine knight sighs. She pouts as she puts her hand on her chin. “I assume it was enjoyable…”

“Uh…” murmurs Gwenesphia as both hers and Treia’s expressions soften. Veiranoei hasn’t had good fortune in the intimacy or romance departments, which is how she came to be one of Daniel’s consorts in name only, in order to raise her honor through someone who fears no gossip or damage to his own reputation, because he commands the rumored most powerful military in the world.

“So, your Greatness, are you hoping to get another one of the crystals you mentioned?”

Caught a little off-guard, Hekate doesn’t press on the other topic, which could only disparage Veiranoei if she doesn’t want to talk about it. “Well, that type of crystal needs to be actively used, which is how Daniel retrieved the Devourer’s soul at the end. S-So… I was hoping… to come up with something that can capture Daniel’s if… he’s ever in danger…”

“I-Is such a thing possible?” asks Gwenesphia, her own curiosity piqued along with the others.

“I don’t know… I… I don’t want to ask her, but…” She looks down and to the side.

The others know immediately, and it’s a shared sentiment. “Doephluev…” murmurs Treia.

“Shhh!” hisses Hekate. “She’ll appear if you say her name.” She slumps, mumbling in disappointment, “She’s… too useful…”

The three gatonines are respectfully quiet for a moment. Treia remarks, “She certainly doesn’t hide her ambitions, either. But, as long as she helps,... I guess it’s alright…”

“A-Anyways, I’m afraid she’ll know what to do, and… I don’t want to ask her.”

“But,...” starts Veiranoei. “If she has the knowledge you need, won’t it be better to make use of it? Isn’t the goal more important than any feelings you have about her?”

Hekate frowns, pouting a little petulantly. “Yes, but… what if she asks me for a favor? She’s shameless…”

“If it’s too much, you’ll have to find another way…” answers the gatonine knight bluntly. She has the least interaction with Doephluev, so she’s the least invested in how such a compromise would turn out.

The feldrok girl whines softly, and she stands up. “I… I’ll think about it… I’m going for a walk.”

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” replies Gwenesphia.

“I’ll alert you if Daniel wakes up or has any troubles,” replies Treia. 

“Thank you.” Hekate stops at the door. “Oh… Um… Have any of you seen Wenlianna?”

The three gatonines smile, but Treia jokes, “Let me check my Wenlianna-tracker.” She makes a gesture of pulling something out of her pocket, but there’s nothing in her hand. “Boop. Boop. Boop.” Hekate hums in irritation, and her big ears fold back as she frowns.

“She’s definitely not in this room,” finishes Treia while Gwenesphia and Veiranoei laugh softly, with the latter-most trying not to.

The feldrok empress scowls at them dryly. “You clearly have been spending too much time with Daniel. I can fix that.”

This only prompts the three women to laugh even more, and Hekate leaves with rosy cheeks, embarrassed by the gatonines. She makes her way through the airship, checking the places that Wenlianna can usually be found. It turns out, she’s actually in one of the engine rooms, recharging the magic crystals that power the engines and provide lift.

Hekate calls out as she enters, “Wenlianna?” The engine room is noisy with the central air unit that maintains comfortable temperatures in every room on the massive vessel. 

The magic artisan-turned empress consort perks up, looking over her shoulder. “Oh! One moment! I’ll finish quickly.”

“Take your time,” replies Hekate, waiting at the door, since the high amount of noise is even more pronounced to the fox-eared girl, and even Wenlianna is wearing hearing protection inside the room.

After finishing one of the crystals, she returns it to its standby harness, which allows the technicians to quickly swap them while airborne as the loaded crystals run low on power.

The two head to a small break room, which Wenlianna added to the original design after she and Daniel discussed common labor practices on Earth, in case any of the enginemen need to rest. It has seating for about five people, a storage cabinet with water and rations, and a simple first aid kit and a couple of eastern healing potions. Similarly to Magic Artisans, the alchemists that specialize in brewing potions command a premium salary, though to a lesser extent. Regardless, even a wealthy family like the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy will typically only have a couple of alchemists on payroll in their domains, and neither of them accompanied the airship due to motion-sickness.

After they take a seat in the small lounge, Wenlianna wipes her hands on a rag as she asks, “Did you need something? Is… Is Daniel alright?”

“He’s still sleeping,” replies Hekate. “Gwen, Treia, and Veira are watching over him for now.” The young feldrok girl fidgets with her hands, and the brunette takes notice. She is patient and kind to Hekate, even after it could be argued that Wenlianna was Daniel’s first friend in this world, as well as a sort of protector. If things had only gone a little differently, Hekate would never have met Daniel, as Wenlianna was already in love with him before he left, and he cared about her, to the point that they could have become lovers if he hadn’t been banished first.

“Are… you… happy with Daniel?” asks the Empress of the Fievegal, surprising Wenlianna a little. “O-Or, rather,... um… Are you… Is there something stressing you out? Is it…? Are we…?” Even Hekate herself knows that she normally has an unfaltering confidence when she speaks, even when she’s saying something foolish, because she’s not afraid of being wrong. She’s only afraid of causing pain to people she cares about.

Wenlianna, surprised by Hekate’s struggle to formulate solid questions to get her real concerns out, cocks her head a little as she tries to run through what Hekate could be searching for. It’s obvious that the little fox-eared teen knows Wenlianna’s feelings, but she’s after something else.

“I… am quite happy,” replies Wenlianna, still unsure of what Hekate is looking for. “As… we’ve talked about before, I have reasons to kick myself. But, I’m happy that I’ve been welcomed so warmly. I don’t want to share, but… I don’t hate it.” She looks aside, blushing a little. “D-Daniel… is very respectful about it, as well.”

“H-How so?” asks Hekate. She’s probably the only one of Daniel’s innermost circle and family -as well as self-proclaimed consort that she is- who hasn’t been intimate with Daniel because of her age.

Wenlianna squirms sheepishly. It couldn’t be more obvious that Daniel is her first love, and she feels immensely awkward about what happens in private. “He, um… He takes special care to ensure… that I feel like the only one on his mind… wh-when we’re together.”

Hekate nods with a gentle smile. “Mm… I agree.”

“Y-You do?”

The feldrok girl nods. “Mm-hmm! When he cuddles with me, I feel like the queen of the whole world!”

Wenlianna giggles. “Indeed.”

The triangular ears of the expressive young woman flatten out as she deflates a little. “But… Y-Y-You’ve… You’ve been trying for… w-weeks, now, haven’t you?”

“Trying?” asks Wenlianna innocently. “What are we try-...” She halts, and her cheeks completely fill with color. Hekate looks even more worried, even though the eldest Stalvaltan daughter is only embarrassed.

Still, Hekate’s saddened and worried expression makes it connect for Wenlianna. She turns serious, realizing what the Empress is worried about.

“Oh…” The brunette puts her hand on Hekate’s, smiling gently. “Thank you for the concern, Hekate. Truly. But, humans don’t always succeed. Mother says Yani took almost a year, and she was worried that I would be her and Father’s only heir.”

Hekate wraps both hands around Wenlianna’s, holding it desperately. “Y-You’re… It’s not stress, is it? D-Do you need a break? V-Vacation time? I can ask the others if there’s…”

The senior of the two young women places her free hand on top of Hekate’s, reassuring her warmly. “It’s very sweet of you to worry about me, Hekate. I’m very thankful to have a friend like you. But, I am very happy, and… um… D-Daniel spares no effort. S-So long as… no one objects,...” The magic artisan smiles sheepishly.

Hekate nods with a gentle smile. “If there is anything I can do, please let me know.” She does her best to straighten her posture and restore her usual confidence. “After all, I’ll expect you to spare no effort for the crown princess when she is born.”

“C-Crown Princess?” asks Wenlianna bashfully, surprised by the confidence of Hekate’s statement.

The feldrok nods proudly. “Mm-hmm! My first child is going to be a girl.”

“H-How do you know?”

“Because I'm going to cast a spell on him to ensure it. Heeheehee!”

They both laugh together. Afterwards, Hekate adds sincerely, “I asked Vae to check the future for me, and she said that she saw me with a baby girl with my hair and eyes.” Hekate blushes softly. “A-And, I know it’s not set in stone or anything, but it makes me happy to know…” She turns serious, adding, “I want to make sure that no one is sad. Wh-Which is why I want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I have time, anyways, so please wish me good fortune, but don’t worry yet.”

Hekate nods. “Good luck, Wenlianna.” She leans close and places her hand on the artisan’s chest, which surprises the brunette a little, but she doesn’t resist. The feldrok empress adds sincerely, “I wish I could give actual blessings, but if you’re listening, Ryukana, please bless this woman with great success in all of her endeavors. All of them.” She smiles, and Wenlianna giggles softly. “Thank you, your Imperial Greatness. You truly honor me.”

“Heeheehee! Do the same for me on my eighteenth birthday, and we’ll be even.”

“You have a deal.”

“Now then, do you need any help on the engines?”

“Hmm? Oh! I… won’t object to assistance. I’m mainly inspecting and recharging crystals. Only a handful of the crewmembers for the airship have enough mana to recharge crystals, and I can only do a couple a day. There’s… obviously a lot of them.”

“Then, let’s get to work! I’ve got mana to spare, now that I’ve had some rest since fighting Yaulwembor.”

“Speaking of,” starts Wenlianna as the two put their ear protection on. “What will happen to… her?”

“Yes, her. She had a nest with unfertilized eggs. We’re going to keep her in storage for now until we return to the Citadel. From there… I don’t really know. She’s really powerful, and if she can break out of the Citadel…”

“It’s a shame… She can’t talk, can she?”

“We don’t think so, but she seems capable of understanding… It may be that she just never learned, but… I don’t know.”

“I see…” The two enter the engine room, and Wenlianna finishes her thought. “I hope everything works out. If it’s true that her scales are sharmelkolle, I think we might be able to make some unique new magic equipment.”

“Remind me to tell you about my new plan,” calls out Hekate over the noise.

The magic artisan nods, withdrawing her notepad and pencil. They both grin at each other as Wenlianna winks cheekily.

***

Neith escorts Aramellianna at her request, alongside Sir Helbeit and Sir Resken, the two knights that accompanied the assault team that fought Rohgattabor and Yaulwembor. Daniel is being protected by Magnir and Roeta alongside several of the empresses, including specifically Reignleif, who was least upset by the danger he put himself in. Reignleif and Daniel have each said they have similar outlooks to each other, and while she was also disappointed, she accepted Daniel’s answer the easiest. He truly does make difficult decisions in hopes of protecting the people he cares about, even if it is intended to protect them from him making darker decisions than he usually does. This time, he nearly paid the price in full.

Now, the Grand Duchess has taken charge of her own endeavor, and she invited Neith to accompany her.

“I’m certain you’re fully aware, Sir Neith, that I am not Daniel.”

“I would be shocked if anyone would even joke that you’re related, your Grace,” replies the Dragon civilly. It prompts a giggle out of the matriarch of the Grand Duchy.

“Yes, well, I would consider it my own great fortune to have given birth to such a resourceful young man. Thankfully, that was not the case, as Wenlianna would be quite lonely otherwise.” She then turns serious. “I do not take my blunders lightly, and I have a great deal less mercy for my enemies.”

Two knights guarding a door to a small building in the town, to where they have walked, open the door to allow the Grand Duchess and her small entourage to enter. They both greet her, “We greet her Majesty, the Grand Duchess.”

“Greetings, gentlemen. We’ll only be a moment.”

“As you wish, your Grace.”

The two knights close the door behind them, standing guard to ensure no one else enters.

In the center of the room, tied to a chair, is a bruised and battered person. A shenwulf is cleaning tools nearby, bowing his head reverently at the group. “Your Grace. It is my sincere honor to host you.”

“Have you had any issues, Sir Samvinez?”

“A rat came snooping. He’s in the back room if you’d like to question him next. Paid by some nouveau riche, but I haven’t taken the time to get the name yet.”

“How did you determine that much, then?” asks Helbeit.

The shenwulf, who is dressed down compared to his knight counterparts, gives a toothy grin. “I’m an expert in these affairs, Sir Helbeit.” He tosses a bag to the human knight, which rattles like a bag of stones. Helbeit pours some of the stones out for the others to see, and it turns out to be tiny diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies, in addition to ‘sealed plates’, small, thin ingots of silver that carry a fairly high fixed value of gold, but are stamped with a seal that can only be exchanged at certain locations; namely a merchant company’s approved vendors and sellers. This reduces the effective loss of a theft, as well as the weight of the gold that it takes the place of.

And, the seals are all stamped with a specific company’s trade emblem.

“I don’t believe the traders are related, but those seals are extremely common for new nobles to deal in, especially when on the rise, when they can’t afford a full guard detachment.”

Aramellianna agrees as she studies the collection. “Indeed. I remember my grandfather speaking of the idea before it was ratified in the Empire. He was neutral on the policy, since it has advantages and disadvantages.”

“Yes, your Grace. Not least of which is the fact that they are worth only the weight of their own silver content if our friend in the back is not the one to trade them in.”

The Grand Duchess hands the one seal she picked up back to Helbeit, and he returns the treasures to the bag. “No matter. Restoring my honor is more important.” She faces the bound human, who has been watching her for a long time. “I had great faith in your word, since we have shared business in the past, Lord Joenn.”

He coughs and struggles to breathe. “I… I had no… idea…”

“No idea?” She paces around him as the knights stand watch. “You sold her to me most fervently. She was impressive, I’ll admit, but it was your words that carried weight.”

She stands behind him, saying menacingly, “Do you see the man in the grey mantle right there? The one lurking behind my knights?”

Neith shifts, unsure how to respond.

Aramellianna continues without an answer, “That man is the right hand knight to his Grace and my son, Emperor Daniel kos Lawson. Your recommendation nearly placed an assassin at my Imperial Son’s side. More importantly,...” She places a hand on his shoulder to intimidate him. “Your recommendation nearly placed an assassin in arm’s reach of my grandchildren.” She squeezes his collarbone, which is admittedly not very painful coming from a rather pampered noblewoman.

She steps away from him finally, saying calmly, “Sir Neith; I grant you leave to take over.” She steps between Resken and Helbeit, and the dragon steps forward, a little confused. He agreed to accompany the Grand Duchess thinking he was going to be protecting her.

She gestures her hand out towards the prisoner, saying, “I believe there was some mention of a person in charge? I do not know the full details, but someone put this man in contact, and he is obviously a skilled liar, as you can see.”

“All men break in time,” replies Samvinez confidently. “How useful they are is all that differs.”

Neith studies the beaten human. While he looks defeated, something is off about his “ignorant” appearance.

“Have you taken anything off of his person?” asks Neith, looking at Samvinez.

“No, Sir Neith. He was retrieved… in a state of vulnerability.”

“You kidnapped me… from my home…” grunts out the man, coughing afterwards.

Samvinez shrugs. “If he is related to the spy, he may have a cursed artifact in his home. Something that looks like jewelry.”

Joenn keeps coughing, not seeming to be disturbed by the revelation of the cursed artifact.

“Hmm…” thinks the shenwulf interrogator out loud. “I was part of the retrieval team, but I didn’t take much notice of the trinkets. Our first priority was getting his lordship out unnoticed. Evidence will be collected later.”

“Were there any casualties?” asks the dragon.

“No, Sir. As I said, we mainly focused on our task.”

“Her Imperial Grace will hear of this…” grumbles the prisoner.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” replies Aramellianna, feigning concern. “I didn’t tell you. You no longer exist. I only wanted my draconic companion here to question you in case we miss something. It seems there is indeed something to look for.”

“You can’t do this! I am a law-abiding citizen of the Empire, and a noble lord!”

“You’re not the first petty lord that has disappeared after betraying me, ‘Lord’ Joenn. You won’t be the last. When your body is found mangled by monsters after you foolishly tried to claim your own sliver of the Fievegal’s glory following the defeat of the Three Terrors, you’ll be nothing more than one more soon-to-be forgotten corpse of the wilderness.”

“Pardon me, your Grace,” speaks up Sir Resken, the shenwulf knight that accompanied them. “You waste your breath on this spy.”

“I won’t,” declares Neith as he steps forward. He makes a sound like he’s sucking his teeth, but in actuality, a flame ignites in his mouth, glowing a violet purple color. The entrancing flame immediately ensnares Joenn’s gaze, startling him. Neith keeps his lips curled enough to allow air to feed the pilot flame, and he asks, “Who would the spy have contacted?”

“I-I don’t know! I told you, you people have the wrong man!”

Neith says confidently, “There is an artifact in his house, likely near his bed, which he puts on every day and takes off. It’s possible it’s nothing more than a ring for a finger or a cravat. It cannot be touched, however. It’s cursed, and only the proper words can deactivate the curse temporarily.”

“You’re speaking nonsense! I’m innocent! And, when the Empress and Grand Premier hear of this…!”

Neith spits, and a small flame darts from his mouth to the man’s right hand. Joenn immediately begins huffing and squirming, writhing against his restraints and trying not to scream. The purple flame continues to burn, dancing just above the skin like tea-leaves in a pot. However, it is not a harmless flame. The man’s hand is noticeably melting, rather than burning.

Neith watches the man as he begins to scream, quickly losing breath as he bucks and pulls, trying to escape the flames, but to no avail. The others in the room back away, as the heat is noticeable even from the small fire melting a human hand.

The grey dragon asks mockingly to no one in particular, “Do you know how hot dragon’s fire burns? Flesh doesn’t easily melt without burning. Of course, it helps that the oxygen is pulled away by the flame, and its own heat causes the flame to rise and fall in the presence of matter it is melting.”

“Make it stop!” screams the prisoner. “Please! Make it stop!”

“Worry not,” states Neith. “You’ll lose most sensation in your hand before long, once the nerves are burned away. Amazing what you can learn from an otherworlder, even as a dragon of seven hundred years like myself.”

Neith licks his teeth, and he makes the same clicking sound again, igniting a new pilot flame.

Lord Joenn screams in agony. “Mercy! Please! Mercy your Grace! Make him stop!”

“You think I can stop an actual dragon?” retorts the Grand Duchess mockingly. “I’m flattered, but there aren’t enough Stalvaltan Guards in the world to defeat Sir Neith.”

The knights chuckle uneasily, though it’s a little disappointing to hear it for all of them. That said, all three of the knights present had to retreat from the heat of a tiny, effortless flame. If Neith was actually fighting them, the three of them wouldn’t last long. Helbeit had the luxury of using the Dragonslayer during the battle with Yaulwembor, but he also had the protection of titans like Neith, Magnir, Roeta, Vaergraes, Doephluev, and Hekate holding back Yaulwembor’s attacks. While they were holding back to protect the forest and the lake, Yaulwembor proved to be a relatively even match for a large group of the Fievegal’s strongest fighters.

“V-V-Viscount Telgabe! Viscountess Telgabe put me in contact with her! I s-s-swear! I knew nothing about Veuthene before that! Please! Mercy! I-I’ll tell you all I know! GAHHHH!”

Joenn’s arm suddenly comes free of his wrist restraint, and he screams.

His hand was left behind, continuing to melt before everyone’s eyes, and liquid flesh drips from his wrist. No longer exposed to the ignityal flame, it quickly flares in a puff of orange fire, and the flesh is quickly charred before the flame puts itself out. 

All the while, Joenn continues to wail in pain and agony, trying to put the flames out himself, only to strike pain through every nerve ending. Nothing will make the pain stop, and staring at it only makes it worse as his horrid eyes remain locked on.

“Tell me about the cursed items.”

“I know nothing about that! I swear it! Please!”

“Perhaps he was left-handed after all,” remarks Aramellianna.

The first flame finally falls leisurely to the floor after melting through the arm of the chair. Neith spits another flame that intercepts the first, and they snuff each other out. He puts the pilot flame out. “Yes, I suppose you are right, your Grace. I should have figured out which was his dominant hand.”

“I’m telling the truth! The closest to information that I have is Viscountess Telgabe!”

“What interest do you have in the Fievegal’s serving staff? Why would you have recommended a prospective maid?”

“The Grand Duchess asked me!”

“More accurately, I put out a request via my serving staff,” replies Aramellianna. “Though, I obviously reached out to many former trusted contacts.”

“This isn’t my fault!”

“The final fault lies with me,” replies Aramellianna. “But, I will correct my mistakes.”

Neith states sincerely, “Forgive me, Sir Samvinez. You’ll have to restrain his arm differently now.”

“No matter, Sir Neith. You got more in three minutes than I got all morning.”

“I’ll return at your request, my brother in arms. For now, I would like to investigate this man’s home.”

“Speak to Dame Peltuos, if you would. She can explain her role to you in the absence of… our friends, here.”

Neith nods. 

“I’ll take you to her,” replies Aramellianna. “Sir Samvinez, I trust you will use our friend’s newfound cooperation wisely. Lord Joenn, I have heard my dear son is even more effective than a dragon at getting answers. It may be wise to answer Sir Samvinez’s questions now, rather than later.”

The agonizing lord trembles, pain and terror equally fighting for dominion over his expression. Samvinez bows his head. “Until next time, your magnificent Majesty. Sirs Neith, Resken, and Helbeit.”

The knights give their farewells, following Aramellianna out of the room. 

“Daniel tried to protect my daughter and the others from the truth when he wanted to handle Veuthene himself,” remarks the Stalvaltan matriarch. “It’s probably only fair that we return the favor.”

“Your Grace, if he asks…”

“You may tell him and lose no faith with me, Sir Neith. I know you swore yourself to the Emperor.”

“No… I swore myself to a human from a far away world called Earth. I don’t care what his title is here.”

Aramellianna smiles. “You and me both.” She then adds seriously, “Regardless, from what I understand, and from what I have seen, he is not cold enough for this sort of work. His world was very safe. Very comfortable. Very warm.” She trails off as she imagines Earth to the best of her ability.

“I agree with you,” replies the grey dragon softly.

She gives a gentle nod, adding, “I don’t want to keep secrets from him, but if he is unwilling to handle the darker sides of this world, then I will. I hope you will assist me when needed.”

Neith is quiet for a moment. He already did, just now. And, while his first duty is to Daniel and the Imperial Family of the Fievegal, he has no objections to serving them from the shadows when need be.

“I must prioritize the Imperial Family, your Grace.” He smiles, adding softly, “My understanding is that it includes the Empress Mother.”

It’s not often that Aramellianna blushes, and she comes admittedly close just now. “You flatter me, Sir Neith.”

Just as he’s about to respond, something feels off. Neith is one of the most powerful beings in the world, though there are a fair number above him. Regardless, he is standing next to someone who might as well be among the weakest; a normal human for all intents and purposes.

The grey dragon doesn’t usually have to rely solely on his instincts. He normally has all the time in the world to respond and plan, since he doesn’t have to worry about being attacked.

It’s different now that he’s a defender. Someone who can’t withstand the attacks he would easily survive is directly dependent on his actions to survive.

Neith whirls around in front of Aramellianna, shoving her into Helbeit. A crackling clap of thunder explodes, and the dragon is stumbled by a powerful blow to his spine. The other four knights, including the two guarding the hideout for the interrogation team, are blasted away from him by a concussive blast, and the door is blown inwards. 

Neith drops to a knee as he tries to orient himself. Were he anyone else, including many of the warriors more powerful in magic than he is, it’s possible they would have perished.

But, he is a greater dragon, as well as the First Jomsviking; a warrior recognized by the great and powerful Harbinger of Calamity.

Ryuogriar, Roeta, Geirahoel, and Magnir were all taken down by Brosjak through magic. Neith is not any of those four. He would never intend disrespect, but such are the facts.

Another fact is; someone is trying to kill either himself or Aramellianna.

He whirls and breathes tainted fire; dragon flames where he intentionally mixes his venom into the blend, which causes heavy black smoke to fill the air. He sweeps short-range flames around them to obscure their positions while he retrieves smoke grenades from his bag. He pulls their pins and throws them around them, hiding the group to prevent a follow-up attack.  He’s not as strong in defensive magic as the likes of Vaergraes, Illianna, or Doephluev, so he has to fight defensively with his offensive might.

Incinerating the town block would be an option, but his priority is Aramellianna’s safety while minimizing collateral.

The Jomsviking of the Fievegal quickly darts to Aramellianna to check on her, keeping himself between her and the direction the attack came from. He can sense the strong source of mana moving beyond the smoke, so incinerating everything in that direction would be rather easy. But, the potential innocents caught in the flames and the destruction of property would not be forgiven by Mattarglos, whom the Fievegal has come to ally with.

Instead, he has to evacuate Aramellianna at all costs. 

Assuming that goes according to plan, he’ll then have to explain to Daniel and Wenlianna.

It’s not a conversation he’s looking forward to, but he prays he gets to have that conversation under the right conditions.

***