Ruinous Return

B2 – Chapter 14

Misty heard a loud 'ding' noise and looked to a small plate that sat on her desk. Under the glass dome, a rolled up bit of parchment appeared. She took the dome off and unfurled the paper, reading the message.

To the Mage hero,

I'm Maria, James' wife (dictation note: current Queen of Khrelardia). My husband has been acting in a way that seems unwise. He refuses to even attempt dialogue with this so-called Destroyer. I'm sure you've heard of them, since you are so powerful and, I would guess, have a good grasp on all the going-ons across Ghomar.

I was doing some research on heroes, and I found a bit that is very concerning, and I wanted to see if you knew of any way to fix it. His hero core is changing his personality, and I am afraid that he may go the way that Kor Khreld did, where he becomes a…(benevolent) tyrant.

Is there any way to remove his mana core without hurting him? Please, I don't want to lose my husband.

Thank you for reading this. Aelor's blessings to you.

Misty let out a deep sigh and set the paper down. "Damnit." Removing mana cores was easy enough; a complex spell that required the target to be incapacitated and unconscious. But aside from that? Easily doable. The hard part was she would need someone else who could utilize any spell type – like Thomas – who also had enough mana to pull off the spell. "Simultaneously casting it," she muttered. "That's the only way to do it. Perfect synchronization of the removal and implantation."

Grabbing some ink and a slip of parchment, she scrawled out a response.

To Queen Maria,

There is a way. But I am no friend of James. If he really wants to give up his hero core, have him bring a dungeon core, and himself to the Valley of the Volcano.

She paused and took a deep breath as she held the quill, trembling, over the parchment. She was already going to join Lyn, solely to have a more centrally located mage school that could then be the premier center of magical learning on Ghomar. If she wanted that new vision to come to fruition, she had to fully side with Lyn. She put quill to parchment once more.

He will have to submit the kingdom of Khrelardia to Lady Rivers.

Misty Misery, Mage hero

Misty blew on the ink to dry it before setting it under the dome. She channeled mana into the plate and it vanished, sent back to the sender. The paper itself was inscribed, so they would not be able to communicate with her again.

She looked around her chambers which were bare. The academy was packing up and preparing to be relocated. Misty planned on using an inscription that would only affect the structure itself; all the furniture, people, and the like had to be out of it. Placing her hands on the desk, she amplified her voice through the complex. "One hour remains until we gather in front of the school. If you are still inside, you will be crushed. Get a move on!"

Maria paced around the room for several minutes, fretting over the message.

"Calm down," the archmage said as he relaxed in his chair and grabbed a book from a desk. "It could be days before we hear back. I'll have servants fetc-" The plate with the covered dome flashed white as a slip of parchment appeared. "Well, we must have caught her at a good time." He lifted the dome and handed the parchment to Maria.

She opened it and read it. "Oh…" she looked up at the archmage who stared at her expectantly. "Thank you," she muttered. She grabbed the book she had brought and left the room. Her guards flanked her as she left the tower and descended, pacing down the stairs as she contemplated what she would do. The best option would be to just have a calm conversation. Sit him down, show him proof- She made for the archive, and found the same archivist that she had previously spoken to. "I want everything that tells me about Kor Khreld. Can you write up…I don't know…a summary? His life, accomplishments, but with a lot of focus on what happened after he beat Raevan?"

"Oh, I can do that."

Maria nodded, handed her the book, and went to her chambers. I'll wait until that is ready, she thought. Once I show him evidence that he's behaving this way because of his mana core…he'll agree to giving peace a chance. She didn't want war – the mere thought of it terrified her. She wasn't just some lowly peasant girl scraping by on the city streets. She was a queen, with twin princes. All of them would be targets in a conflict. Most of all, she feared for her husband. I can't lose him to this madness brought on by no fault of his own.

Rashanna and her entourage were gifted mounts by Diplomat Naskowitz to facilitate their journey to Dornsk. They were a day out from their destination, and just starting to set up camp. She had her full retinue of escorts, and the cagey Shadestalker Bolvon who had avoided conversation with her.

They had left Skir's Retreat a week prior, rushed out by the Diplomat as there was internal strife involving a coup attempt. Bolvon had told her what happened, and what he did, and whilst she did not feel comfortable with his nonchalant behavior towards death, she had to admit he had made a very smart move. Removing the crown prince who was against his father's plans for vassalization was a stroke of genius. And, according to Bolvon, there was no way to trace the act back to Rashanna's liege. The crown prince seemingly died during his coup attempt, during the tumult of combat.

In fact, as she set up her bedroll and patted down the ground to ensure a nice, flat surface, she couldn't help but wonder if Bolvon had received some type of hidden message from Lyn regarding King Skir's hesitation towards his children and future grandchildren not inheriting the throne after him.

She grabbed the emblem that Lady Rivers had given her and ran her fingers around the outside of the image. Flipping it over, she thumbed the inscription that she couldn't read and sighed.

"You sound sad," a voice said from her left.

She jumped slightly, "Stop doing that Bolvon," she reprimanded. "You make me jump every time."

He sat down next to her, "Sorry, habits." He picked up a blade of grass and twisted it between his palms, "Are you nervous?"

"No, no." Rashanna finished setting up her bedroll before crossing her legs and facing Bolvon. "Diplomat Naskowitz and I already hashed out the details. King Skir will become Lady Rivers' vassal. All that remains is for her to formally meet with him and make it official."

Bolvon nodded, "I figured as much. You seemed pleased in those meetings with that Diplomat. I had no clue what you two were saying, but the body language led me to believe you had the upper hand in the conversation."

Rashanna smiled, "One thing I learned in the merchant business – you always hammer home your point when you have the upper hand. As soon as he verified my claims of the walls along The Rill and the changes to the mountains around the Valley of the Volcano, he knew that his kingdom could not stand against Lady Rivers' power if she chose to bring it to bear." She stood up and made her way to the campfire, which some of the Duskari were cooking over.

Bolvon walked with her and crossed his arms as he stared into the flickering flames, "What of Vharthos, Raptol, and Fosk? They are technically not a part of Trisk."

She nodded and took an offered bowl of stew. Taking a seat on one of the stumps around the campfire, she blew on the food before taking a bite. "Well," she said in between bites. "If Lady Rivers attends the meeting, I expect those three miniature kingdoms will be my next task."

Bolvon grabbed a bowl of stew and sat next to her, "You believe she will have you stay up here?"

Rashanna nodded, "She indicated that she intends to allow Valagonia and Khrelardia go to war whilst reinforcing her own forces and securing Trisk. Once their war is underway, she will act on those two-thirds of the world." She looked over at Bolvon who was just stirring his stew, staring down into the brown, chunky liquid. "Why?"

"I anticipate that she will have a new assignment for me soon enough," he said softly. "You will still have your guard here to protect you, but…well, I suppose I'm restless, is all." He leaned back as he let the stew sit in his lap. "I am a skilled assassin. I should be used to take out the rulers of those two kingdoms, so that she can impose her will. Instead, I imagine I'll be tasked with staying with your entourage."

Rashanna reached a hand over and squeezed his shoulder. "Just talk to her. Ask her if she can send you off to kill some people that deserve it."

Bolvon smirked and picked up his spoon, "Who decides who deserves it?"

"I-" Rashanna paused as she saw all the Duskari looking up to the sky. "What is it?"

Bolvon stood up and grabbed her, pulling her behind the pack animals. "Something flies above."

Rashanna looked up where he pointed, and felt terror fill her heart. An enormous, winged creature descended towards the camp, barely visible in the dwindling light of the two moons. And she heard a tremendous roar that shook her to her core. "What…is it?"

Bolvon smirked and stood up, "I do believe that is our goddess." The other Duskari looked at ease, also, as the black dragon descended to the campsite. The horses and pack animals threatened to pull up their tethers, but the Duskari were quick to hold the ropes tight. The dragon was easily the size of a large building, and mounted on the back were three figures. Rashanna couldn't make them out in the darkness, but the shape of the dragon shrank away, and Lyn Rivers walked into the edge of the firelight, accompanied by her bodyguards and a human she didn't recognize.

"Alright, let's make camp nice and proper for Lady Rivers!" Vael shouted as the Duskari began setting to make the campsite cleaner and more spacious.

Bolvon walked forward and knelt in front of Lady Rivers, "My goddess, we are blessed by your appearance."

She nodded and sat at the edge of the campfire. "I spied Rashanna from up high. Where is she?"

Okay, be brave. You did your job. Rashanna took a deep breath and came out from her hiding place, approaching the firelight and curtsying, "My Lady."

"Report."

Rashanna nodded and forced herself into her merchant-mode. "They have agreed to all demands. All that remains is the formal acceptance."

She nodded and grabbed a bowl of stew, "What's the timeline look like?"

"The meeting is in four days' time, and we are due to arrive tomorrow."

Lady Rivers nodded and put her hand to the ground. She whispered something that Rashanna couldn't make out, and a surge of energy went down her palm and into the ground. Thirty feet away, a walled structure appeared. "There's a caravanserai. Eat up, then move everyone and everything inside." She stood up and took her bowl to the walled structure. There were more flashes of blue light, and Rashanna saw the tops of buildings appear inside.

Bolvon hugged and gave a kiss to the male Duskari bodyguard accompanying Lady Rivers. "Hey honey. Did you stay safe?"

The bodyguard nodded and picked up the slimmer man, "Yes, we're all fine. And we learned a whole lot of stuff." The two chatted with each other, the Shadowstalker sitting on the bodyguard's lap.

That's cute, Rashanna thought as the human grabbed a bowl of stew and sat nearby. She looked at him and dipped her head. "I don't think we've met. I'm Rashanna, Lady Rivers' Diplomat."

"Thomas, Knowledge hero and court Scholar." He looked at her and his eyes seemed to bore into her.

"Yes?"

"You're not Duskari, which is surprising. Why did Lady Rivers entrust you with being her Diplomat?"

"I speak every language on Ghomar," Rashanna replied confidently. "And I was a skilled merchant."

He nodded, "Then I hope you sold the idea of submitting to an empire to King Skir."

Rashanna smiled, "Oh yes. I think Lady Rivers' will be quite pleased."

Lyn traveled with the Duskari escort and her companions. After discussing at length with Rashanna, she knew that Chancellor Vehenna had done her work extremely well. She chose the perfect woman for the job; she thought as she really appreciated the work her Diplomat had done. She had been able to ensure that all of Lyn's demands were met, and the vassalization was all but a guarantee.

Just the formality of the ceremony. Then, Skir will bend the knee. She had already discussed Rashanna's next goal as well – she was to go to each of the miniature kingdoms within Trisk's borders; Raptol, Fosk, and Vharthos, to ensure they bent the knee as well. The Diplomat was quite happy with the task.

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As Lyn walked alongside the mounts – Bolvon rode up next to her. "My goddess… a moment if I may."

"Of course, Shadowstalker," Lyn replied as she took in a deep breath of the clear air.

"I feel that my skills are not being used to their fullest potential."

"I agree," Lyn replied as she looked into his eyes. "I have plans for your talents."

He leaned down from his horse, "Whom shall I be going after?"

"You will be in the Valley of the Volcano. I want you to try and infiltrate from every conceivable angle, trying to find any weaknesses in our defenses. Your task will be to prepare us for a hostile force, by finding those flaws."

"Of course, my goddess." He gestured to Gael, "May I request to do such a task in intervals, so I may spend time with my beloved?"

Lyn smiled, "Of course. There will be some time before I have need of your more…volatile talents. I will need you to improve your mana core, and I plan on outfitting you with a variety of inscribed items."

Bolvon smiled, "I thank you for entrusting me to such an extent."

"It's because you'll need them. Once Trisk is fully in the fold, along with the race-specific kingdoms within its borders…and we have ensured the Valley of the Volcano is well defended…you will have a difficult target laid out before you."

Bolvon smirked, "I await the day I serve your will with my blades."

The entourage arrived at Dornsk late in the evening. It was a medium-sized city that sat in the middle of Trisk's farming lands. At one time, it was the capital of the region, before King Skir the first created Skir's Retreat and moved the capital there. The large fortification that loomed above the town was imposing, a monument to a simpler era of architecture.

Gael led Lyn's group who traveled without cloaks. The Humans, Vharthons, and Foskor who populated the city had apparently been informed of the Duskari visitors, and the entourage was shown respect. Vael rode alongside Gael, and she had a banner in the crux of her stirrup. A black banner with a blue flame outlining the trio of triangles that intersected and forked off of each other. The symbol of the new empire.

"What will we call it?" Gael had asked the night prior as Lyn was using a transmutation external spell to craft the banner from some spare overclothes.

"The Eternal Empire," she had replied with a smirk. "Since it will go on for eternity as I helm us to prosperity."

Gael eyed the citizens they passed with a judging eye, trying to discern any ill-will amongst them. All he was able to gather was that they were afraid. That made sense to him, as the Duskari were thought of as fanatical servants to the Demonic Dragon, who sought the destruction of the world. Someone will have a lot of work to do, trying to change people's minds, he thought.

The castle welcomed them, and a steward who was sent ahead by King Skir ensured that Lyn and her cohort were provided chambers within the stronghold. Gael and Bolvon were in a room adjoining Lyn's, and Vael was across the hall with Rashanna.

After getting settled in, Lyn looked at the two men with a mischievous expression, "You both may do what you wish this evening. I'm going to be up late, inscribing some items."

As soon as he heard that, Bolvon dragged Gael back into their chamber and engaged the bodyguard in a passionate embrace. Gael returned the amorous display, and soon the two were tumbling into the bed, heaving with passion.

Hours passed, and Gael ran his hand through Bolvon's hair as the slighter man rested his head on his chest. "I heard you talking with Lyn earlier," Gael gently said.

"Mhmm. I'll be around home more often."

"Did she tell you about her plans for the fortress?"

"Mhmm. She's going to be moving her throne room to the actual throne room in the fortress, and the Conclave interior is going to be for her chambers, council…our quarters," he said the last with a grin as he nuzzled into Gael's chest.

"Right…did you hear her plans for the expansion to her chambers? That she's going to put our room next to hers with a hidden entrance?"

"Mhmm."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Well, you are her bodyguard. Makes sense she wants you close by." He sat up and looked at Gael, "I don't mind her calling on your services now and again, but it's reassuring that she trusts us both so much."

Gael nodded, "Yes…it is."

The castle loomed up ahead. King Skir the twenty-fifth was not a nervous man by nature. But the changes he saw wrought upon the castle exterior were startling, to say the least. Enormous towers ascended skyward, and several buttresses which allowed for travel from the central citadel to the walls surrounding the city had been added onto the structure. There was an enormous moat surrounding the walls, with a large drawbridge.

"Who authorized these changes?" His Seneschal asked one of the courtiers.

"Not my department," The courtier replied as he looked up with awe at the structure that soared skyward. "But it is marvelous. An exemplary defensive fortification, wouldn't you agree, sire?"

"Yes," King Skir said, his deep, bass voice seemingly shaking the surrounding air. He rolled back his shoulders and looked at one of the guards bearing the kingdom's colors at the drawbridge, "You, soldier. Tell your king what happened?"

The soldier knelt and bowed his head, "My Lord, the Lady Rivers arrived with her entourage of Duskari yesterday." He reached into a pouch and pulled out a slip of paper, "From her own hand, my liege."

Skir dismounted and walked over to the man, snatching the paper out of his hand and unfurling it to find a well-written letter in perfect, courtly Triskol.

To King Skir and his representatives,

I, Lyn Rivers, empress of The Eternal Empire, found the fortifications for my temporary lodging lacking. I utilized spells to reinforce the structure and add additional defensive fortifications. I will revert these changes, should you desire, upon my departure. But, should you choose to keep them, consider it a gift.

I look forward to our meeting.

He handed the slip of paper to his Seneschal, who read it and went pale. "She…did all of this in a day?"

King Skir felt a twist of emotions within him. Anxiety at meeting such a powerful figure who could change a whole city in under a day, relief that she had sought him to bend the knee rather than conquering him, and trepidation for his impending meeting with the woman. Going back to his horse, he clambered atop the mount and rode into the city.

The people showed him appropriate deference, and he went into the castle proper. Dismounting, he was joined by his guards and retinue as they went to the Eastern wing. A Vharthon woman was standing in the main hall, where the passages to the other wings were located. She curtsied, "King Skir, twenty-fifth of his name," she said in Triskol. "My name is Rashanna Selenya, Diplomat of Lady Rivers. On behalf of Lady Rivers, I thank you for the hospitality of providing Dornsk as the safe haven for our formal engagement." She stood up and smiled, "I trust the gate guard advised you of the reasoning behind Lady Rivers' enhancements?"

"The King-" his Seneschal began to answer for him, but Skir cut him off.

"Yes. Please convey my thanks to Lady Rivers for her generous changes to my lands. I look forward to our meeting on the morrow."

Rashanna nodded and reached into her pocket. She produced a sheet of paper and handed it to the Seneschal, "My Lady has offered to create an inscribed item at your behest, as an additional gift. She will present it at the formal meeting tomorrow."

King Skir smiled, "Ah, well, I would appreciate a bracelet that could protect me from poisons."

Rashanna curtsied again, "I will pass the request along to Lady Rivers. Until we meet tomorrow." She left down the corridor to the Western wing.

"She is already buttering you up," his Chancellor commented with a wry grin. "This Lady Rivers must be desperate to secure her Northern border."

King Skir looked at the man, "Or, more likely, she is planning on imbuing such an item with a means to control my mind." He looked to his court mage, a Vharthon man with eight tails – one of the most powerful magi he could acquire for his court. "Ensure you check it over thoroughly after I receive it." The man nodded, and King Skir led his group to the wing.

The evening passed uneventfully, and the next morning the King rose with the sun and made his way outside with four of his crown guard, planning his morning exercise. He was dressed in light clothing and had his blade along his hip. Outside, in the courtyard of the keep, he saw a sight that he was shocked and in awe of, rooting him to the spot.

A Duskari woman who was heavily muscled, wearing very revealing metal armor, fought against ten Duskari men and women dressed in scale mail. The woman was wielding two enormous practice swords with grace and ease, fighting against the group in a practice bout. She danced with a grace that belied the weight of the weaponry that danced in her hands as she twirled and struck at the defenses of the surrounding combatants. But more than that, what stood out most to King Skir, was the horns atop her head, the clawed hands and feet, and the black scales.

In that moment, he knew that he was looking upon the Destroyer. Empress Lyn Rivers, the woman who sought to conquer the world. And what a woman she was. King Skir was a happily married man. But he had an appreciation for beauty; and even though she was Duskari…she was gorgeous.

The woman must have noticed him staring, as she signaled to the warriors around her to stop the practice bout. They were all panting with exertion, and yet the empress appeared to have barely broken a sweat. She walked over to King Skir and tipped her head slightly in a nod of respect, "I apologize that our first meeting is so informal," she said, her entrancing, lilting voice speaking perfectly the language of King Skir's birth.

He smiled and held out a hand, "You must be this Lady Rivers I have heard so much about."

She planted the practice blades in the ground and gripped his forearm, "And you are the mighty King Skir the twenty-fifth of his name. Ruler of Trisk and guardian of the lesser kingdoms of Raptol, Fosk, and Vharthos."

He looked down at her arm and saw the sheer mass of muscle, feeling the grip she exerted. Not hostile in the squeeze, but firm and resolute. He smiled, "Yes, those are my titles." They released and he gestured to her guard that were training alongside her moments before, "It appears as if you are quite the skilled combatant, in addition to being a skilled user of spells."

She nodded and crossed her arms, "I am. Are you interested in a bout? I see you're dressed for exercise."

He chuckled and shook his head, "I believe one of your skill, who can hold off ten trained warriors at once, would overwhelm me."

"Then perhaps a simple walk is more your preference?"

"I would enjoy a stroll about the city. If you wish to accompany me, then by all means."

The woman in front of him shrank slightly – her muscles contracting as she became petite, and the armor that was barely girding her figure seemingly grew along her skin to fully encase her body, save for the head. "I would be delighted." She turned to the Duskari and shouted a command in Arinol, "Vael, Gael, escort us." She turned back to him and swapped to Triskol, "Shall we?" she extended her elbow.

King Skir did the gentlemanly thing and interlaced his arm with hers as they walked out of the central castle complex and entered the town; her Duskari guards in front of them, and his four guards behind. "I trust your travel was safe and secure?"

"When one can turn into a dragon and fly across the land, they always travel in safety."

This took the King aback, and he was struck dumb for a moment before quickly recovering his wits. "I have never experienced flight before. What an incredible experience it must be."

"I don't mind taking you up for a ride if you wish," she said. "Later this evening after the festivities. Flying at night is much more thrilling than during the day. You feel as if you can touch the stars themselves."

"I would be thrilled to accept," he replied. "If I may be so bold to inquire, why are you only seeking my vassalization and not that of Khrelardia or Valagonia?"

"Those are ruled by heroes," she stated as she fixed her eyes forward. He couldn't read her expression, but the slight tension in her face told him that the Destroyer he now held by the arm had some grudge against heroes. "James Marshall, the Paragon, and Cecily Valagonia, the Ruler."

"You speak as if you know them."

"They did kill me," she stated. "But I returned. I will bring them ruin." This last statement sent a chill through King Skir. He could feel the hatred that intertwined between the words, knowing that she would keep to her word. And, that the Destroyer did indeed die, but came back.

"That explains the ten-year absence," he said softly. "My condolences for your demise."

"I appreciate it," she said as her tone softened. She reached her hand to her side, and seemingly drew a bracelet from thin air, "A gift. You requested an inscribed bracelet that would protect you from poison. Sadly, protection in and of itself is rather pointless, as you would protect yourself after learning you had been subjected to it."

She handed it to him and he held up the iron band in front of his eyes, looking at the Elenthir verses that he did not know the meaning of. "Instead, I have inscribed simple healing spells that will cleanse your body of poison, disease, and other physical maladies. This includes injuries." She smiled, "I am unsure of the amount of mana you have within, and thus I had to also ensure that there was a limiter to make certain any person could use it. The limiter is that you must activate the item within a ten-minute time frame. It cannot reverse effects that happened in a longer time before then."

"My thanks, Lady Rivers. I regret to say I have no equivalent gift for you."

"This walk and your company is enough, King Skir."

The night came and Lyn went through all the decorum that was insisted upon by Thomas. He had scripted the entire affair, pulling from various stories he had read, and his own experiences which were cemented in his mind. First was dinner, which was an excellent feast with many, many delicious items.

After, there was a formal signing of agreements. To her delight, Lyn discovered that Rashanna had negotiated for every single change that she required. King Skir was more than happy to agree, with the only stipulation being that his grandchild would inherit the throne after his time had passed, before it would then revert to her meritocracy-based system.

Then came the final moment. She stood up and King Skir knelt before her. "I, King Skir the twenty-fifth of my name, do swear fealty to Empress Lyn Rivers, of The Eternal Empire. May it last until the end of everything."

She drew Cataclysm and channeled her mana into the blade, willing only the earth elementalism subtype of metal to course down the blade, so it appeared as a regular blade. She tapped it to his shoulders before dismissing the blade and socketing it into her armor once more. "Rise, King Skir of Trisk, first vassal-king, and rule your kingdom with my blessing, keeping to the codes and treatises we have signed."

He stood, and she went to her side of the table where, to King Skir's eyes, a prominent white throne sat. She had spent the evening sitting in that chair, and it stood out to him in this moment as he saw a hue of blue light limning the seat. "Empress Rivers, you are glowing."

She smiled and nodded, "Yes. I am fortifying Trisk. Please, a moment for me to concentrate." She closed her eyes, and the blue light turned into an aura of flame that surrounded her. No heat emanated from her, but King Skir looked at his court mage and saw his eyes go wide in shock. A few minutes passed as everyone paused their conversation to look at the incredible display. The flames died down, and she sagged slightly in her chair, opening her eyes. "I have erected a wall along the Flontar River, just as I had done with The Rill. Additionally, every twenty-five miles along the coast of Trisk, I have erected stone fortifications with gated quays. Lastly, on the coast off Skir's Retreat, I have raised a large cove to enable the erection of mighty shipyards."

King Skir was in shock, "Thank you," he muttered, just barely able to remember decorum at the sudden notification that his kingdom, which he had not been fortifying as he saw no need, was suddenly the most defensive kingdom of the three greater ones.

She clapped her hands, and Rashanna stood up, walked over to the wall, and with the assistance of two Duskari, brought over a chest, setting it down next to King Skir. "I reward those who serve, and whilst I do not anticipate you being attacked by those that I will most assuredly come into conflict with, I would be remiss in not preparing you and your council."

Rashanna opened the chest, and King Skir saw hundreds of metal rings with inscriptions. He waved over his court mage, who walked over and grabbed one of the metal bands, inspecting it. The mage's eyes went wide, and he leaned into King Skir's ear, "These rings are just like your bracelet, sire. However, they are more limited, and can only revert injury, disease, or poison within five minutes of it occurring or being contracted."

King Skir stood up and bowed deeply, "You honor me, Empress Rivers."

"Oh, that is not all, I assure you." She snapped her fingers, and the male bodyguard that had joined them on the walk earlier in the morning walked up and presented a hand-mirror made of silver, with Elenthir inscriptions upon the back and around the exterior, wrapped in a silk cloth. "This mirror will allow you to communicate with me directly, and it will shake when I seek to speak to you." She reached into empty air next to her and produced a golden version of what he now held in his hand, "I ask that you keep this with you at all times, so that, if need be, I can communicate rapidly with you. My Chancellor also has one for less immediate matters that do not require my direct intervention."

King Skir handed it to his court mage, who checked it over before nodding and handing it back. He found that a small chain dangled from the mirror, and that it could easily be fastened to his belt. "I am gracious that you have chosen to gift me with these wonderous items, my Lady."

She stood up and the throne vanished from behind her. "I believe you had wanted to experience flight? Do any others in your entourage wish to try it?"

King Skir smiled and stood up, "I'll let them decide for themselves, but the privilege of riding a dragon is something I cannot pass up."