Chapter 392: A Uniting Force

“Hey, congratulations on third-tier spells, but uh…no offence, that’s a little light compared to ‘hey, there might be a conspiracy set up by my own god.” Thundar rubbed the side of his face, groaning like he’d aged a decade. “Also, you pissed off the biggest, nastiest demon you’ve ever seen. Like…what the hell happened, I thought you were just popping over for a quick chat with Drestra’s friend?”

“Things…got out of hand.” Alex admitted, placing plates of steaming pancakes on his dining table. His Wizard’s Hands added pats of butter and jars of honey. “You know, like they often do.”

“Indeed,” Prince Khalik took a pancake, slathered it in butter and licked his lips. “Like they often do is true…this is a heavy revelation, and—as you said—we do not know the whole truth of it yet.”

“This is most ominous and odious.” Isolde sipped her tea. “But you said Baelin was going to cage this demon, no? Ah, and congratulations on reaching third-tier.”

“Thanks, and yeah, he should be taking care of it later on,” Alex said, sitting down with his own stack of deliciousness. “But we’ll see how that goes.”

“What the hell,” Thundar chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at his cabal-mates. “Can you believe this shit?”

“What do you mean?” Isolde asked.

“I mean it feels like we’re running around in a damned legend,” he snorted. “Come on, we’ve stumbled onto something that scholars will probably write about for a thousand years. And, did that battle ever sound like a tale bards tell late at night by some fireside. And look at that thing!”

He gestured to Claygon’s new spear leaning against the wall.

“You guys literally took a super powerful war-spear away from a greater demon. How many people can say that?” He shook his head. “And all of us—” His arms arced toward everyone at the table. “—are involved too. I mean, come on, did any of us think we’d be doing stuff like this when we got to Generasi? I know I sure as hell didn’t!”

“To be honest…it did cross my mind,” Prince Khalik said. “That my name might one day join those spoken of in whispers and written about with awe: not for their bloodline, but for their deeds. But, I thought it would happen in the full breadth of my power, when I am an older, more experienced, far wiser and much greyer man.”

“That would make more sense.” Isolde stirred more honey into her tea. It was her third spoonful. “At this stage…we are hardly better than fledglings, yet here we are making enemies of demons and gods.”

“Well to be fair,” Alex said. “Zonon-In’s not your enemy: she didn’t see you. And this whole Uldar thing only involves my homeland. Like, seriously, you could all walk away anytime you wanted.”

“Hah!” Thundar scoffed, clapping Alex on the shoulder. “And that’s why you’re not the leader of the cabal, my foolish friend. We forged a cabal to support each other through thick and thin. It uh, kinda defeats the purpose, if we abandon each other the moment one of us lands in trouble.”

“Truly,” Isolde agreed.

“We would be no better than cowards,” Prince Khalik said.

“Thanks guys,” Alex felt himself choking up. “That means a lot to—”

“But is anyone else getting a little ‘buyer’s remorse’?” The prince flashed a mischievous grin and a wink at Thundar and Isolde. “I mean, no one told us that helping each other might mean ‘staring down the wrath of a secretive and possibly angry god’.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” the minotaur’s grip on Alex’s shoulder tightened. “I mean the most we three ever ask is for help with studying or getting into a party or a hangover cure experiment, but this bastard man—” He shook Alex’s shoulder. “—forgot to mention, ‘oh hey, you guys might be fighting demons and gods and shit because of the fifty billion skeletons my kingdom has in its closet—”

“That is a big closet,” Isolde commented.

“—so just be prepared and maybe have a will written up when you join a cabal with me’,” Thundar finished. “Cuz, y’know, I might get all of you tangled up in divine conspiracies and demonic wrath.”

“Okay, to be fair, if we’re talking about the demons and cultists, I was barely involved…” Alex paused. “…at the beginning.”

“That makes it worse, in a sense.” Isolde drained her tea. “After all, what that means is you—and thus we—have stumbled into the wrath of a greater demon not by purpose, but by a line of random chance that led us here. My goodness, I almost want to start a small war back home and pull you into my problems for a change.”

“Now that’s an idea,” Khalik mused. “Perhaps I can return to Tekezash and unearth some sleeping dragon-god or something that I can throw at him.”

“You guys are the worst friends.” Alex glared at them. “Here I am—in my time of need—and this is the treatment I’m getting.”

“No, no, you see, we’re the best of friends.” Thundar shoved an entire pancake in his mouth, chewed it three times, then gulped it down. “If we were the worst, we would’ve cut you loose around the time you mentioned ‘angry god conspiracy’.”

“That isn’t how I put it.”

“But that’s exactly what it is.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Look at our luck, man,” the minotaur snorted. “At the rate things escalate for us, there'll probably be multiple angry gods involved, and they'll all hate us, specifically.”

Alex snorted. “Maybe, but just remember, the moment one of your homelands meets some horrible apocalypse that you get dragged into, I am never letting you hear the end of it. But, speaking of horrible things happening in someone’s homeland…I know this is coming out of nowhere, Isolde, but I just remembered this story Hart told us about when he was in the Rhinean Empire. Do you know a young noble whose father had this one-of-a-kind super invincible armour made for him? Then he took an arrow to the face—not the father’s face, the son’s—anyway, all of his eating, or maybe drinking would be a better word, is done through a straw now?”

“Ah, that calamity does ring a bell, actually. The poor boy’s name was on everyone’s tongue when it happened.” She frowned. “But, it escapes me now…it seems that the father had a bit of a conflict with the neighbouring lord, but his name also escapes me at the moment.” She shook her head. “Territorial squabbles are not uncommon in my homeland. Part of my grandfather’s duties involve advising the Imperial throne on strategies to preserve unity between dozens of proud—often arrogant—ancient families and keep them that way for the good of themselves, and the empire. It…can often be quite difficult.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Alex said, a wave of nerves passing over him. “That occurred to me since this whole Uldar thing: Thameland is pretty much united around three things: the throne, fighting the Ravener, and the church. If people have a reason to start thinking there’s a lie behind fighting the Ravener, and that the church is involved in it…hells, I have to worry about what that’ll mean for my country.”

“Your concern is far from unreasonable,” Isolde said grimly. “Realms require a uniting force to stay together, whether that be a strong power on the throne, a mighty deity, an ideal, a common enemy, or something else. The Rhinean Empire is strong, to be sure, but we worship four elements, not a single deity like Thameland does. To offer devotion to more than one of anything can be a source of conflict. But, we work it out—we are civilised, after all—but…some of our political philosophers look at the Irtyshenan Empire with admiration.”

“Truly?” Prince Khalik’s eyebrow rose. “The Irtyshenans and the Rhineans are the two largest of the northern realms, and from common knowledge of how most empires view others, I would have thought there’d be no love lost between your two countries.”

“You would be right for the most part.” Isolde conjured a set of electric-blue Wizard’s Hands to fetch her a pancake. “But—as distasteful as the practice is—some Rhinean philosophers look at the Irtyshenan belief that those outside their borders are ‘uncivilised barbarians,’ as having a uniting effect on the people. After all, it makes the world their enemy, so they are less inclined to fight among each other, at least in theory. In truth, there have been more than a few Irtyshenan civil wars of succession that have been fought regardless of this so-called ‘unifying force’ but, such inconvenient ‘facts’ are often ignored.”

“I could see the allure to some philosophers.” Prince Khalik stroked his beard. “My own teachers taught that war can be a double edged blade for a sitting ruler. A king or queen who goes to war—if it is the right war at the right time—usually enjoys greater support from their court. After all, war can mean spoils for the kingdom, prizes, new lands to rule and other boons. But an unpopular war can see the people rise against the rulers as a way to get their dying children back from the battlefield. When any state defines all outside of their borders as lesser, it ensures that almost any war is popular, as long as the state is winning.”

He looked at Alex. “Now, to bring the point back to your kingdom, you’ve had generation upon generation of battles against near-mindless hordes of monsters that seem to want nothing more than your peoples’ destruction. Every battle against your Ravener is a war of survival against the truly vilest of opponents. Even when soldiers fall, they give their lives for the ultimate cause. How can such a war be anything but popular?”

“Yeah. But what happens if that premise all goes away?” Thundar asked. “Reminds me of an old story about the five tribes. About five hundred years ago, the five biggest minotaur tribes in my homeland united to form a single herd against this rampaging necromancer and this skeletal army he was leading. By uniting, they had the power and numbers to successfully put the threat down. And so peace reigned…for about a week. Once the outside enemy was gone, the chiefs remembered that they’d been fighting each other for generations and reverted to trying to wipe their old rivals out. The event is called: The Chiefs’ Folly, for good reason.”

“Ugh, I hope that doesn’t happen in Thameland,” Alex groaned. “Wouldn’t that be bloody miserable? We manage to get rid of the Ravener forever, use the dungeon core remains to usher in a golden age of magic, and then my kingdom falls apart because some dukes let their grudges take over since the Ravener’s gone?”

“Indeed.” Isolde nibbled the edge of her pancake. “The possibility that some might even suggest leaving the Ravener in place to keep your people united, would be a very real possibility in a situation like that. There is something else to consider. If the Ravener is gone, would that not mean that the source of dungeon cores would disappear as well? I am sure others would want such lucrative materials to be produced forever, no matter how many lives were lost.”

“Ah, jeez,” Alex grunted. “I never even thought of that.”

“Though in my opinion, considering such options would be nothing but pure intellectual cowardice,” Isolde continued, her blue eyes flashing. “We are wizards: it is in our nature to master and create cosmic forces, bending them to our will and not bending our knees to them. Were this not the case, we would still be engaging in blood sacrifices and begging demons and devils for scraps of power. We have analysed the dungeon core substance and I have no doubt we will find ways to reproduce it without a need for those evil orbs of darkness.”

“Here’s to that!” Thundar lifted his fork as though it were a sword. “Besides, I’m sure Cedric, Hart and Drestra would be kinda pissed to let all this effort go to waste. I can hear it now: ‘Oh, sorry, the Ravener needs to stay to keep the kingdom from falling apart and keep nobles’ coffers full’.”

“Oh, by the Traveller!” Alex nearly choked on his pancake. “Hart…I’m pretty sure Hart would be completely done with Thameland, right after he killed everyone who made that decision. Cedric would curse everybody and everything, and Drestra might declare open war on the church and crown. There’s too many dead over too many centuries for them to accept any kind of compromise—if you could even call that a compromise.”

“That actually leads to another topic.” The minotaur licked his fork clean and laid it across his empty plate. “I took point with planning some stuff for the Festival of Ghosts this year. Alex, I’ll need you for some cooking, but I’ve got most of the organising taken care of. We’ve got a table booked at the event on Oreca’s Fall, which seemed pretty appropriate, considering how many were lost out there—” Thundar paused. “…and I guess it’s even more appropriate with the threat from that demon hanging over us. By all my ancestors, it makes you wonder just how long you got, all things considered. Maybe you gotta act on things while you still got the chance, y’know? …just in case…”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Alex said. “Baelin and I are meeting up tonight and he’s going to summon that demon, Zonon-In…maybe after a little chat with him, we’ll see how eager she is to come after anybody.”