Inexorable Chaos

Most cities have their farmland beyond their walls. The area needed to grow enough food is too big to put a wall around- even with high-level [Farmers] increasing crop yields. There are a few notable exceptions to this rule. Those being the kingdoms of Weren and Runia. Weren, known as the kingdom of light, excavated a large cavern that they use as farmland. With mirrors and enchantments, the city redirects sunlight onto the subterranean crops. As for Runia, it can be said that the [Harvest Queen’s] class makes even a small garden capable of producing an entire acre’s worth of food.

The city of Kurzix is arguably an exception as well, though not at the same level as the other two. Their farmland is located above the city, on the terraced slopes of the mountain into which the city is built. From the highest terraces, gleaming steel aqueducts bring fresh water into the city. From the low terraces, scaffolds hold forth gardens, watered from the troughs above. Glimmering water, glittering steel, and verdant gardens, the city is a living machine... It is, in any case, an impressive feat of engineering, one that Enderan takes pride in.

“It was my ancestor, Veratach, the founder of Kurzix, who implemented the construction of these scaffolds. Veratach built his city to withstand the test of time, including the actions of hostile nations,” the [Iron King] explains as he travels the iron steps upward. Jessica keeps up with him, listening intently as he shows off the glories of his kingdom.

“So that’s why you are not worried about a siege. Your kingdom has an unlimited food supply.”

“That is an aspect of it,” he says.

Jessica gazes at the [Farmers] busy tilling fields. Many of them wave to the [King] with smiles on their sweaty faces. To her, it seems like Enderan is quite loved as a monarch. The people look happy and even the thought of an encroaching army doesn’t break their good cheer, a far-cry from the citizens down south, where every [King], [Queen], or [Lord] wages constant, violent war.

“And you think your walls will hold?”

Enderan smiles. “So long as I live, my walls shall not be breached.”

“Ummm,” Jessica stops, unsure if she should ask the question.

But Enderan is amused.

“Yes, it is a skill,” he answers as he continues to climb the stairs.

“I see.”

The [Iron King] waves to a group of [Farmers] sitting, in the midst of lunch.

“You were hired to defend my life. I believe knowing the reasons why it may be endangered is useful, no?”

“Maybe?” she blurts out, unsure how to answer.

Enderan looks at her now, realizing the girl’s tender age and inexperience.

“You are so young… but powerful,” he says as he probes with his aura, only to be rebuffed without her thought or notice. He frowns. “Who are you?”

Jessica gulps. “I am just an [Archpriestess] of Eir,” she answers simply while shifting her masked face away from him, so very similar to someone attempting to avoid eye contact.

Thankfully, Enderan can take the hint.

“Your partner, the one named Bone. His actions yesterday have left me some annoying political problems. I merely asked him to show me respect within my own home, and he instead mocked me,” he changes the subject.

Jessica tilts her head up. “Bone doesn’t like being ordered around. He’s too prideful for that.”

Enderan raises an eyebrow. “He bowed to a little girl because she needed to pee.”

“She said please.”

Enderan shakes his head. “It’s always the strong ones that are oddities…” he grumbles as they reach the peak of the mountain’s top. There, a picnic table is set up beneath a towering metal column. Jessica tips her head back, eyes following the pillar up till the smooth exterior ends and its twisted core uncurls and frays into a canopy of shining brass. Delicate drops of water, glimmering like iridescent jewels under the midday sun, trickle slowly down the curving branches.

A man and a woman are already seated, but upon seeing their [King]’s approach, politely stand. [Maids] stand nearby, holding trays of food.

“I do apologize for having you accompany me up to the top, but I enjoy having lunch with a view of my city.” Enderan tells Jess moments before the duo at the table bow.

“Your majesty,” the woman intones. She wears a clean brown and gray tunic with black leggings. Her dirty blonde hair is streaked with grey and pulled back into a ponytail.

The man bows, but says nothing. He wears a disheveled Kurzix uniform, as though he’s been wearing it for several days. His youthful appearance and black hair mark a strong contrast with the woman’s aged look.

“Rise, Mila, Haldred,” the [King] tells his subjects. They do so. Enderan sits, and the two follow suit shortly after.

Enderan blinks, and turns to Jessica. “Come, sit. Join us.”

Jessica nods and takes the proffered seat. As she does, the [Maids] scurry. They arrange plates, cups, utensils, and food before her. When finished, one of the [Maids] arrives with a teapot. She pours hot tea smelling of fresh lavender and mint into the teacups. Enderan smiles happily as he inhales the aroma.

“My ancestors used to do this frequently,” he says happily as he lifts the cup. “A [King] drinks to his kingdom,” he waves his hand forward, gesturing to an amazing view of Kurzix. The sprawling metal city below shines under the light, though not harshly. Pumps three stories tall litter the farmland, dredging up water from deep within the mountain. Like capillaries pumping blood, steel tubes transport water from the aquifer up to the farmland; across the fields, water mains unravel into smaller pipes like rope into twine. It’s a uniquely gorgeous city.

Enderan takes a long sip and sighs as he looks further out, past the walls of Kurzix, towards the army making camp.

“Haldred, how are our plans for the siege coming?”

The man starts out of a doze. “It’s…” He rapidly blinks. “Yes, the siege plans. As we’ve discussed previously, our food stores are satisfactory. We could last for months even without the farms. All our soldiers are armed and armored, we have enough arrows to turn the army into pincushions, and the oil is being prepared.”

“I am aware. You told me that at our last meeting. How is your plan with the caltrops?”

“Ah, right!” Haldreds tired face breaks into a grin. “That. Production has fallen behind schedule. We should only need another day to have enough to cover the area around the walls.”

Mila snorts. Enderan frowns. Haldred’s plan was to leave caltrops around the walls, to slow the enemy [Soldiers]’ advance. The traps would also harry them should they try to leave. They hadn’t had any caltrops at the time, but the [Strategist] had immediately ordered their production. Unfortunately, they were supposed to be finished yesterday so that they could sow them in preparation for the enemy army.

“They’re late.” Enderan states.

“Yes, but not by too much! We need only toss them around the wall before the battle breaks out. We should still have enough time, though it will be a close thing.”

“Mila,” Enderan turns to the [Historian], “what were your complaints with the plan at the time?”

“We didn’t have enough time and they were an inefficient use of resources. It would have been more effective to just throw ingots at the enemy.” She pulls a notebook out from a pouch. “It was done in a siege eighteen decades ago, though admittedly…” she rapidly flips through the pages before stopping at a specific page, “there was a shortage of smiths at the time with which to make them into weapons.”

Haldred smiles across the table at Mila. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, we don’t have that problem, so I’ve tried to prepare more effective weapons we can use.”

Mila shakes her head. “I told you, production before sieges is always slower than normal. Too many people have rush orders to fulfill. We were never going to finish on time.”

“And I told you, the benefits outweighed the risks. Slowing the army’s advance to the wall grants us more time to pepper them with arrows and spells from a safe position. They will also slow future troop advances, since they won’t be able to get rid of all the caltrops.”

Jessica listens intently to the discussion. The matters of production or what the plan with the caltrops is elude her, but it seems apparent that there were disagreements on how to prepare for the siege.

“Haldred, Mila. Enough,” Enderan commands. “This was not an invitation for you both to squabble. You’ve already done that more than enough.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” Mila bows in her seat.

Haldred winces and follows suit. “My apologies.”

Enderan sighs. “I brought you both here not to complain about the plan, but rather to discuss what we should do now.”

“Well, that’s simple,” Haldred tells him. “We’ve already come this far with the caltrops, we may as well finish. Right Mila?”

Mila frowns, but nods. “Changing our plans at this point is unwise. It would only sow confusion among our [Soldiers] if we suddenly switch.”

Enderan nods. “Very well then. Haldred, continue with the plan. We’ll see how well it works soon enough. Have any unseen problems arisen?”

Haldred rubs his chin. “No… Well, Edwir was missing for part of last night, but reappeared sometime in the morning. Other than that, no.”

Enderan considers this, but shakes his head. No, Edwir is fine. He probably accidentally fell asleep somewhere again.”

“Then, if that is everything your majesty, I should really be getting back to the walls.” Haldred stands up, having not touched his food or tea. “Thank you very much for inviting me here, but every second is crucial.”

Enderan merely waves his hand. Haldred jogs down the hill.

Mila, sensing that their meeting has come to a close, stands up and bows to the [King], before beginning her own departure. Enderan, Jessica, and the [Maids] remain.

Enderan looks back out across his kingdom to the army beyond.

“Tell me Jess, what are your thoughts on war?”

Jessica, staring into the distance as well, turns her head to the [King], a man who bears the weight of his people on his shoulders. She can tell something is bothering him.

“I hate war. I hate death and killing. I’ve… I’ve seen too much of it already. War makes monsters of us all.”

He nods slowly. “I agree, but I also think it is unavoidable. War will always occur so long as humans make kingdoms.”

Jessica frowns. The statement seems reasonable, until she remembers some of the things that Quasi says.

“Human nature is conflictive, but only ignorance that makes human nature violent.”

Enderan leans back in his chair, a rather unkingly pose, but few will see him so high up.

“That… Hmmm.” he goes silent.

“Your words make sense,” he says after a while, “You’re quite wise.”

“Um, those words aren’t mine.”

“Oh? Whose are they then?”

“Bone’s.”

Enderan sighs. “Of course they are.”

_________________________________________

Like a statue, Trinity stands with shield and spear ready, her eyes darting constantly to the entry points of the room, tense and vigilant, ready for anything. Anything is unlikely though, as the room, the tea lounge as the [Queen] calls it, is high on the upper floors of the castle.

Trinity shifts her gaze back to the couches and table where the [Ladies] chatter and gossip. They speak of children, of politics, of war, and above all else, they talk about yesterday. Apparently, what Bone did, dismissing the [King]’s command , was extremely scandalous.

The way that he ignored the potent aura and mocked the [King]… was exactly the thing that the Amazon elders would do. They wouldn’t bow to a king. They would beat the man down, rendering him powerless while they ripped his clothes and mask off with-

She quickly releases a breath and stops her thoughts. With a bit of will, she slows her heartbeat, subduing the fear and excitement which had boiled up. She feels her blood slow and her cheeks returning to their normal color. She resumes her focus, looking for any intruders, while trying to ignore her newly soaked panties.

____________________________________________

“That army is your brother’s?” Deflon asks Abernick as he looks out the castle window. The enemy army is making camp in the distance, far away from the defensive emplacements on Kurzix’s walls. They are organized with [Scouts] watching the surrounding area. They aren’t allowing anyone to come near.

“Yes, that bastard is here,” Abernick states as he sits with eyes closed on the bed.

Deflon looks at the skies above the army and watches a dozen undead crows fly around, controlled by Abernick. Bone has allowed the [Prince] to control undead, but only simple ones.

“Are they really ignoring your crows?” the big man asks.

“They’re not paying attention. Out of practice. The kingdom of Shival has not waged war in a while. The country was too destabilized from the endless stream of assassinations by my brother,” Abernick frowns, “he’s a [Tyrant] in all but class.”

Deflon looks at the piece of metal in his hands, slowly scribing a rune with a graver.

“You really hate him, don’t you? Are you after his crown?”

Abernick shakes his head. “No, I care little for the crown. Not anymore. All I want is revenge for my love.”

Deflon brushes off the rune on the metal and then begins another one on the other side. “What was she like, your love that is?”

Abernick smiles, a soft and nostalgic look on his gaunt face as he remembers…

“Alexis was the love of my life. She always looked for the best in every new day. She saved me from myself.”

“How did you meet her?”

Abernick chuckles. “In the woods. We were both running away from a [Paladin] that was hunting us. We both somehow found ourselves hiding in the same cave.”

“So it was love at first sight?”

Abernick shakes his head. “No, no. Just friendship born in shared misfortune. We were kindred spirits, she a [Plague Mage] and I a [Necromancer]. I raised undead and leveled while she helped eradicate pests in nearby villages. Our friendship only blossomed into love later when she unveiled that she was actually a woman.”

“Oh?” Devlon stops scraping, now very interested in the story.

“Yes. Apparently, Alexis had been hunted before by [Paladins]. They knew her face and class, so when she got far enough away from the churches, she made herself look like a man and shifted her class from [Plague Mage] to [Plaguespreader Mage]. Granted, anyone with an [Advanced Analyze] would know she was lying about her class, but for a time, the church was left clueless. Alex, the [Plaguespreader Mage] was too far south and unimportant to be hunted.”

“Wow,” Devlon voices, “Alex and Alexis aren’t that hard to tell apart. Neither are the two classes. I’m surprised the church didn’t figure it out immediately.

Abernick snorts. “The church is dogmatic. Their members tend to have one-track minds. The few that are able to think wouldn’t be hunting down a [Plague Mage] that hasn’t even killed anyone.”

Devlon stays quiet, agreeing with the [Grand Necromancer] to an extent. He has been with the thieves guild for a while, and they have quite a large following of people who worship gods, mostly Laverna or Hermes. He has learned [Thieves] don’t live long without being able to think on their feet.

“Shit,” Abernick exclaims, interrupting Devlons’s musings.

“What’s wrong?”

Abernick frowns. “A carriage of Odin. A large one too. I can see several [War Priests] preparing a ritual of some kind. This could be bad. Why are they even helping Shival? Doesn’t Kurzix have a treaty?”

“We should tell Bone,” Devlon tells him.

“Maybe,” Abernick says slowly, trying to understand what even the point is. Sure, a single carriage of [War Priests] is dangerous, but it’s not like a [Greater Angel] is that much a threat to an entire city.

“I’ll keep an eye on it, but I don’t think it warrants a need to inform him.”

Devlon grunts and then continues to scrape on his metal.

_______________________________________

“I’M BOOOOORRRRRREEEEEEDDDDDD,” Amber moans on her bed. “I want to go outside! Why can’t I go outside?”

The [Maid] in the room bows. “My apologies [Princess], but your father and mother have forbidden you from leaving the castle.”

“Whyyy?”

“Because it is dangerous.”

“Whyyy?”

“Because they don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Whyyy?”

“‘Because they love you.”

“Whyyy?”

The [Maid] sighs, wrinkles cropping up on her forehead from the whining [Princess]. She turns her head and looks at the mercenary sprawled on the plush couch, relaxing as though his job weren’t to defend her mistress’s very life.

She frowns as she continues staring at him. She is here, in the same room, dealing with a tantrum while he just relaxes. He annoys her, far more than he ever should. At least the [Royal Iron Guards] look like they’re ready to do their jobs.

“Bone, correct? Can you please explain to [Princess] Amber why it is imperative that she stay within the confines of the castle?”

“Huh? Why does she need to stay in the castle? She has me to guard her, so she is,” he makes an okay sign with his hand, “super safe.”

Amber, listening, jumps up from her bed. “See! I’m safe! So let’s go outside,” she demands.

“What? No! That is against orders!” the [Maid] exclaims, outraged. She glares at the masked mercenary. “Don’t encourage her! She could be killed.

The masked mercenary sits up on the couch. He extends his hands up in the air and stretches as though he had napped. Which, now that she thinks about it, he could have since she can’t see his face.

He turns to Amber. “So, you want to go outside?”

She nods.

The masked man stands up.

“What are yo-,” she pauses as dizziness takes her. Her body feels weak. She falls forward, but for the man’s hands catching her. She didn’t see him move, but she can feel him lift her up.

She feels so sleepy and tired. Then, he puts her on the bed. Her head sinks into a pillow and soft covers are pulled over her.

Before she falls asleep, she hears the bending of the window’s bars.