Wake of the Ravager

Freeform mode is dangerous. One day Goob was testing it while we were still working out the kinks, and his concentration slipped for just a second, creating a horrific monster that was half attractive yandere next door, half grilled cheese sandwich.

The girlfriend/sandwich monster was born.

Now it seeks to finish what it started, suffocating Goob in an avalanche of scalding hot cheese and kisses. Unfortunately for us, it wised up after the first couple times we nearly killed it, so it’s learned to be more stealthy and judicious about when it strikes.

“And that’s why Goob isn’t invited to the wedding,” Calvin said with a shrug.

“That tracks,” Kala said, nodding as she sat beside him on the bed. “Wouldn’t want it to be interrupted by a giant cheese monster.”

“At this point,” Calvin said with a wave of his hand. “We should probably focus more on a wedding capable of recovering from interruptions. Everybody knows there’s going to be some kind of huge distruption, like an assassination attempt or kidnapping. Which is why we should have plainclothes ministers standing by in case the one at the podium gets vaporized.”

“How about body doubles? Sign the paperwork the night before and have stand-ins.”

“That could work…” Calvin said, rubbing his chin. Was it something worth the existential dread of ceasing to exist over? Maybe not. Effective for dodging the bureaucracy of the wedding and inevitable disruption, though.

“We would have a lot of free time,” Kala said, tapping her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder what we would do with it all.”

“Yep, let’s do it.”

Kala whooped, spinning around in her golden robe, causing a miniature cyclone to manifest around her, scattering Calvin’s letters from Uleis.

“You seem to be wearing that a lot.”

“It’s my favorite present,” Kala said with a wicked grin.

“Whaaat? I thought I was the winner.”

“How on Marconen does being able to summon a measly squad of terminally ill veterans desperate for a last stand compare to the joy of being able to fly?” she asked, her feet floating up and off the ground as she leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead.

“You try convincing people to get into a bottle that renders you down into sludge.” Calvin said with a snort.

Prefab objects were mostly limited to simple inanimate objects. Even castles were simple, as they were just stone organized into a repetitive shape. Living things…well, the accuracy of Calvin’s prefabs weren’t high enough to create something living, or particularly molecularly complex for that matter.

Then there were the ethical questions of having prefab human soldiers. What would happen if Calvin took Steve the Soldier, brother of Paul, husband of Amy and supporter of his children, staunch supporter of XYZ, and gooped down a forest and made several thousand more Steves?

The way Calvin had managed to store living things at all was by piggybacking on his own mutation that allowed blade storage, using Abyssal Alchemy to extract the Warped Mutation from his blood.

You’re Warped, Too: User’s Mutations may be (correction) more easily be distilled from the User’s own flesh and blood.

They’d gotten it to work on things other than knives, but the problem was the manner it stored the blueprint was such that reading the blueprint effectively destroyed it, and any attempt to change that to allow re-using a blueprint led to a drastic drop in fidelity. Not enough to bother a simple sword or building, but it only took tiny, imperceptible changes to make a living creature into a corpse.

“I literally bled to make you that present, and you’re scorning it. I feel scorned.”

“D’aww,” Kala said, pinching his cheek.

Calvin glanced at the robe again, then back up to Kala.

“That reminds me, what’s going to happen to Tzen? The guy was a bit of a prick and I want to indulge in some schadenfreude.”

“That’s a Bolesian noble for you. They’re pricks by default,” Kala said, rolling her eyes. “But no, he’s probably not going to get more than a slap on the wrist. It obviously wasn’t his intention to try to kill me. More likely it was a brother of his who arranged the whole thing to remove his brother from consideration as heir. The servant already killed himself, so we’re left with nothing. We can’t afford to make enemies of Boles, so we’re keeping him in house arrest.”

“House arrest?” Calvin asked with a frown. “I assume in some palatial estate surrounded by maids.”

“Pretty much.”

“Boo. That’s more like a vacation,” Calvin said, kicking his heels as Kala floated up to the ceiling, cloak fluttering around her naked body like an aura. “What about Dorian? I hope I didn’t crush his expectations too hard. He seemed alright.”

“He moved into the diplomat’s mansion and hasn’t been seen since.” Kala said. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully. “Although I will admit that the shipment of raw materials from Iletha has been helpful in easing shortages around the city, gaining him a lot of public approval.”

Nadia? What do you make of it? Calvin thought.

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Dorian growing up, but I’d bet you damn near anything the nice-guy act is just that.

Well, of course it is, this is politics, after all. Calvin reminded himself to not get reeled in by the prince’s easygoing ways. Calvin hadn’t felt anything untoward from the young man’s gaze, but he knew his mutations weren’t infallible.

We’ll figure it out sooner or later. Preferably sooner.

Calvin mentally checked his itinerary.

“Am I going to have to take on any administration duties after we get married?” The gods knew Calvin wasn’t well suited to it.

“No, you’ll be my consort, not my king. I’ll technically be your wife…and your boss.”

“Why don’t you float down here and say that to my face?” Calvin asked, making Kala’s mischievous smile break into a wide grin. She did not, however, float down and say that to his face. Ever since his Strength had begun to match hers, she’d enjoyed baiting him into tussles.

The minor issue of Kala dangling in midair wasn’t too much of an impediment.

Shifting.

40/44 Bent remaining.

Calvin leapt up and plucked a squawking Kala out of the air, pinning the wriggling princess up against the ceiling, his fingers digging into the wooden support beams as he felt her warmth radiate through the clothes between them.

“Say that again.” Calvin said, feeling a smile growing on his face.

“I’m your boss,” Kala said, her breath tickling Calvin’s face, brown eyes locked with his, radiating desire like a red-hot furnace.

“On paper.” Calvin said, smothering her retort with a kiss.

***

Oddly enough, the wedding went on without incident. Calvin had long since learned to expect high-stress, high drama situations, but strangely, there was no man in black swooping in from the rafters to liberate the princess, nor was there a peasant rebellion, or monster attack, sudden declaration of war, death in the family or ill-omened eclipse.

Nothing other than the stress of a pompous ceremony, followed by sitting at a table being silently judged by distant relatives and offered awkward conversation.

Most awkward being the conversation between Calvin and his new Father-in-law.

Calvin was halfway through lifting his cup into the air when it stopped, something seizing it and holding it in place with irresistible strength.

That’s odd, Calvin thought as he glanced at his locked-in-place cup, giving it an experimental tug. That was when he noticed the silence, glancing up to take in the sight of the room around him.

Everyone else in the room was similarly frozen in place. A few people were even locked into positions impossible to support. The light in the room seemed to have dimmed as well, dropping the light level from a brilliant banquet hall to a gloomy shadow of its former self.

Calvin eyed the chandeliers, which were still burning just as lively as they had been a while ago, just…darker.

Motion attracted Calvin’s attention to Kala’s father, who delicately slid out of his seat and literally swam through the air towards Calvin. The Hash’maje’s arms worked like paddles as he pulled himself through the air, his eyes narrowed, face deforming as though he were moving against a hurricane wind.

That’s interesting. Calvin thought to himself, not particularly worried. If the man wanted to kill him, he’d probably be frozen too.

“Don’t move,” The Hash’Maje said as he glided to a halt in front of Calvin. “You might hurt someone.” He glanced at Calvin’s cup suspended in midair with a hint of amusement before locking his gaze on Calvin’s face.

“I wanted to make some time to have an unchaperoned talk with you. Tell you a few things and give you some advice.”

“First off,” The Hash’Maje said, picking up a spoon and scooping out a ball of wine from the cup next to Calvin’s and biting down on it. “If you ever betray my daughter I’ll snuff you out like a candle.”

“As is tradition,” Calvin said with a nod.

“Indeed. Second. if Kala wasn’t in your corner I would have let Andra kill you a long time ago. There are people out there who could take you down if they had to.”

“I see.”

“Now the advice.” The Hash’Maje turned in midair and pointed at the prince of Boles, who sat by himself in the corner, looking incredibly bored and frustrated.

“Do you know why we didn’t kill him?”

“Fallout from his country.” Calvin said.

“Exactly. If prince Tzen dies, his kingdom continues to function, and they take punitive action.”

“And?” Calvin asked,

“What happens if you die?”  The Hash’Maje asked, turning back to him.

“I come back to life as an undead and terrorize the living.” Calvin said.

“I’m not kidding.”

Me neither.

“When you die,” The Hash’maje said, swimming closer until they were inches apart. “Everything you’ve built unravels. Uleis is held together by shoestring and a song. Two of your most capable advisors, the ones administrating over half of the city’s affairs literally die when you do, another is a corrupt businessman who will use the opportunity to seize as much control as he can during the confusion. Kala has to focus on succeeding me, she doesn’t have time to seek vengeance.

That leaves those willing to avenge you a genosian savage and an archer. Maybe you have an army, but with the support of Uleis gone, they’d gradually be forced to seek answers to more practical concerns, such as feeding themselves and their families. Life trumps lofty goals, almost every time.”

“So is your advice ‘don’t die’?” Calvin asked. “Because I’ll be honest, that’s pretty good advice.”

“Plan on dying, so that you can avoid it.” he said, his brown eyes boring into Calvin’s with a turbulent mix of emotions.

“That seems counter intuitive.”

“If the result of your death is that your threat goes away, that’s incentive. If the result is retribution on a national level, then it’s armor.

He grabbed Calvin’s face.

“Armor. Do you understand?”

“There are dozens of people who want to see you dead, Andra included, for rising so far above your station.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Well, Andra wants you dead because she thinks you’re an unstable, chaotic liability. Not so much the station thing.”

“It warms my hear to know it’s not for a petty reason,” Calvin said.

“Until you establish a legacy, there will be no reason for these people not to seek your death. After this wedding is over, I want you to immediately go to your lands and make something that will last long after your death. That’s the best way for you to stay alive.”

“I think I understand,” Calvin said, nodding.

“Good. I can tell people to lay off you, but what I say and what people do are never the same thing.”

“I thought you were the Hash’Maje. Don’t people have to do what you say?” Calvin asked.

Kala’s father scoffed, floating backwards as he broke into guffaws, laughing until he began to cry, wiping tears out of his eyes.

“When they’re in eyeshot, sure. But don’t think for a moment that people don’t do whatever the Abyss they want when they’re in private.”

Calvin considered the advice and boiled it down into the key elements.

Make insurance policy. Remove target on back.

“Thank you for your kind advice.” Calvin said, nodding.

“You better treat my daughter well.”

After that the leader of Gadvera swam back through the air, carefully gliding into place in his chair, straightening his rumpled clothes.

Without warning, everything unfroze. The lights brightened again, the chatter flooded in. Calvin’s wineglass flew upward, shattering on the ceiling along with a gust of wind that that slammed through the room, blowing ladies skirts up, causing a commotion.

“My apologies,” Calvin said to the staring nobles, wiping his face. “I was unable to keep the sneeze in check.”

What the hell just happened? Elliot asked.

Kala’s dad can stop time. Calvin thought.

Cool.

“No worries, I understand how difficult it is to get used to high Strength,” Kala’s father said jovially. “I remember when I first broke twenty and kept tearing off my buttons.”

Through the murmur of polite laughter, Calvin noticed Kala giving her father a suspicious look. So, it looks like Kala knows about her dad’s Ability.

“So, Marquis Gadsint, Or I suppose I should call you Prince Consort, What do you plan on doing after this?” the withered Duchess, Lady Estaine asked, her neck wobbling under her chin like a waddle as she spoke.

“Now that the situation in Gadvera is beginning to calm down, I’ll be visiting my lands for the first time. I intend to return to them for the forseeable future and throw myself into developing them.”

Calvin leaned forward, matching the Duchess’s gaze. “I understand that part of that territory belonged to your husband, and forgive me if this is tactless, but I think I can provide more value to your remaining lands than letting them lie fallow.”

“More direct than tactless,” The duchess said, gently sawing at the slab of Grik larvae steak on her plate. Nothing was more tender than grik larvae, but they provided a lot more meat if they were allowed to grow, so larvae was a food for the nobility. “Common for your age, really.”

“Kala painted a promising picture of the opportunity for trade between your new land and Sevela, my town.”

“Barges,” Calvin said, nodding. “I intend to follow the Garavel river to the southeast until it meets with Juntai land and establish a three way trade route between Juntai to the east, Uleis to the north, and Gadvera to the west.”

“And these goods you intend to get from Juntai, what exactly are they?”

“I guess I’ll have to go find out.”

The duchess chuckled and gave him a conspiratorial whisper.

“Something tells me the price of copper is going to skyrocket. Iletha is going to be very happy with you.”

“What?”

****

Calvin spent the next half hour talking trade with the duchess, surprised by the insight she had into the interconnectedness of all things. While Calvin wasn’t directly establishing a connection to Iletha, the enemy nation produced the most copper on this continent, meaning that if Calvin Calvin established a solid trade route between Juntai and Uleis, Iletha would profit indirectly through demand on their copper rising drastically.

The reception didn’t wind down so much as it was declared over by Kala’s father and everyone was excused in order of importance, leaving Kala and Calvin there by themselves, listening to the soft clattering of servants cleaning up the banquet hall.

“So…” Calvin said, glancing around the empty room (save for the servants)

“So…” Kala said, biting her lip.

“Right here or your room?” Calvin asked.

The servants stopped picking up dishes, freezing in place and eyeing the two of them sidelong.

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Calvin.” Kala said. “We should discuss this further in my chambers.”

“Sounds good to me,” Calvin said, pushing himself to his feet and taking Kala’s delicate-seeming hand as she stood, guiding her around the chair, like a gentleman.

Tomorrow Calvin had to leave for the mosquito-riddled jungle, but tonight it was his solemn duty to do unspeakable things to his childhood crush.

Macronomicon