332 Remian's disappearance

Alani was making fast friends with the winged horses in the Neutral Zone.

"Ponies!" the little girl was thrilled. "With wings!"

"Uh…" the dignified Lord of the Wilds representing the Pegasus King found himself abruptly hugged by a giggling child and fawned over despite his best efforts.

She immediately tried to decorate him with a crown of flowers, and then while he was seriously discussing matters of state and territory with the Emperor, she painted his hooves pink.

[Where did that nail polish even come from?!] spluttered Summer Rain, Prince of the Pegasi, second son of the Storm Pegasus King, and Lord over the southern region of the Neutral Zone.

It was NOT dignified! But what could he do? Standing before the Deep Emperor on behalf of his father, Summer Rain could only bemoan his poor timing and having gained the unfortunate attentions of the Emperor's new Comrade.

[One last thing.] The floating little avatar of the Deep Emperor instructed. [Bring these children safely through to Ashdale.]

[These children?] Summer Rain blinked. [B-but they already have an airship!]

[So?]

Mournfully, Summer Rain lowered his head and resigned himself to his fate.

From somewhere, a giggling Alani found a white shell cone and tied it on his head, proclaiming, "Unicorn!"

***

Of course, Carrie reported all this to Remian. Including the soon-to-be-popular image of Pegasus Prince Summer Rain sporting a seashell 'unicorn horn' with his hooves painted pink and a little flower sticker on his face.

"A winged escort? That would help." Remian said, absently considering the plumbing systems of the whole city. "Give me an update in two hours."

Carrie snorted at him and went off by herself to do something more fun meanwhile.

When she returned, Remian was gone.

***

Remian wasn't actually sure what happened. One minute he was pondering over city plans, the next, he had a sack over his head, a gag in his mouth, and both his arms bound behind his back.

A throbbing pain in the back of his head suggested that there might have in fact been several minutes in between that he was unaware of thanks to a sharp, skilled blow to the head, but that hardly mattered.

The point was, out of nowhere and without any warning, Remian had been captured.

Who? Why? Remian had no clue. He couldn't even ask anyone around him what was going on. He couldn't even say 'oh crap'. He would love to scan around with Psionic senses and read the thoughts of those around him for answers… just as soon as the throbbing in his head subsided a bit.

Slowly, the pain faded. As it did, Remian began to realize one glaring flaw in his grand plans.

It was himself. Remian suddenly realized he was a 'soft target', easy prey for any mischief maker, evil-doer and greedy opportunist who would seek to take advantage of his weakness for their own gain.

He would be fine while he was surrounded by friends and Wilds. As long as he stayed at Craggy Falls or Three Pines, he should be safe enough. At Kara-Goth, he would likely be even safer. But out here in Fal'Herim, or elsewhere around the world? That was a different story.

Somehow, he had to find some way to protect himself. Build up enough personal strength that at the very least he wouldn't become a burden to his own vision due to his physical weaknesses.

Maybe Mal'thor-dras would like a new Comrade? Hmm. Remian had his doubts though. Knowing his usual physical condition, attempting to squeeze that much power into his weak body might cause him to explode outright, withered meridians and all. No, no, too risky. Maybe he could try it with Vigil first and see if it would help or kill him. After all, it's not like he was particularly close to Mal'thor-dras or any of the Emperors in the first place.

Thinking back to his time in Xiao Yan's world it looked like the martial way was no good for him. Not without some extreme alchemist pills far beyond the capability of his world.

He could rely on technology. That was the best part of mechanical and electrical power. It was always reliable for even the weakest person to employ. A personal Frame, a hidden gun or so… it would be troublesome, but feasible. Availability was subject to permission, though. There were countries with border controls that simply wouldn't let weapons or powered exoskeletons through.

Magic was already dying out. In a matter of months, by his calculation, everything reliant on mana would fail entirely.

That left only one option.

Psionic power. Remian felt it keenly. When it came to Psionics, he seemed to have a rare gift for it. It would take time and effort away from his main agenda, but in order to alleviate the risks his personal vulnerability posed, he felt it would be worth the cost.

Certainly, it would be worth being able to avoid being stuffed into a smelly sack in the future! On that note, having actual guards around would help, even if they were lynxmice.

And then a somewhat familiar voice sounded that answered all Remian's questions.

"Send a message to that George boy. Have him tell his king that we have his brother. If they want him back, they will give us the oil."

***

"The oil…?" George grimaced. "Remian already said no. What are they thinking?"

"They're holding him hostage. They're probably thinking that since we don't use it, we don't value it, and so Remian would be worth more to us than some old rot." Darian rolled his eyes.

"Isn't he?" George pointed out. "We weren't planning on use it ourselves. Why not let them?"

"Because I don't like being threatened." Darian growled, a dangerous glint lighting up in his eyes. "I don't care if they're holding the world hostage for a peanut. Whoever threatens me will regret it!"

George gaped. To his memory, he couldn't recall Darian being so bad-tempered.

Then again, he had shown a whole lot of ferocity in battle during the Spectre Wars. Maybe going through too many fights caused this sort of fierce demeanor? Or did it have to do with his bond with Kor'ag-dras? Even with Kor'ag-dras asleep?

"At the very least, let's try to talk to them and find out where he is." George suggested. "Maybe we can rescue him and catch them while we're at it."

"Fine. Call them." Darian's eyes narrowed. "I want to talk to him personally."

***

Remian's head was nearly cleared when at last they took the sack off his head and ungagged him.

There in front of him was Steiner, holding a comms crystal. "Say something. Your brother wants to speak to you."

"Steiner, huh." Remian grimaced. Psionic power flared. "Oh crap."

Abruptly, there was a high pitched sound, like certain gasses passing through a narrow, confined location.

"Uggh…" someone behind and to Remian's left grunted.

"M-my stomach…" someone behind and to the right said.

"Remian? Is that you?" Darian's voice asked over the crystal.

"Yes, it's me. I'll be fine, don't worry." Remian told Darian.

More pitched sounds erupted from three different guys behind Remian at the same time.

"Quiet down." A guy directly behind Remian said.

"But… my stomach!" An even more disgusting sound emerged from the left.

"Uaah! I have to GO!" someone ran out.

"Me too!"

Three of Steiner's goons ran out. Steiner himself hesitated but for a moment before passing the crystal to his fourth goon and said, "Handle it!"

Then, he, too, was running off to a toilet.

Meanwhile, the fourth goon turned off the comms crystal and put it down on the table to the right.

Remian frowned. That guy didn't seem affected by his Psionic efforts…

Again, he said, "Oh, crap."

This time, he focused directly on the fourth goon…

But it didn't work. And a quick scan of that guy's thoughts told him why.

This man was hungry. He hadn't eaten all day. He was taking money to aid a kidnapping out of desperation.

In other words… there was nothing in his stomach to purge in the first place. This particular little trick of Remian's worked best on the well-fed. It didn't work so much on the hungry and least of all on the starving.

For his Psionic tricks to work, he needed something to work on. Scanning the fourth goon's condition, Remian frowned.

This guy was alert to an edge, nervous and hungry and on the verge of violence, even lethal violence. Messing around with his mind could be outright dangerous.

It was at this point that Remian really began to regret not properly training and practicing his Psionic abilities.

[That's it. I'm going to start training.] Remian decided, and closed his eyes. [I'm going to start training right now!]