The phoenix flies over the walls heading toward distant horizons, and the firebird is soon joined by several dozen carrier pigeons, forming a flock where the creatures shield themselves in the protection granted by plurality.
Those too impatient to settle for sending missives by bird hired the services of mages, specifically the center of telepathy and clairvoyance. During the invasion, the dark elves obstructed these communication methods with noxious magic, but now that the conflict was over, the ether channels were open again, albeit somewhat congested, causing the telepaths to further reduce their already brief margin of content. Instead of ten words, they transmitted five, each with fewer than four syllables.
The oracles of King Marc, that is, the intelligence agency of the kingdom of Stoicus, had to overexert themselves to decipher and study each telepathic broadcast, all to detect potential traitors or messages detrimental to humanity. After the dark elves had overcome, at least temporarily, the absolute natural barrier that was sunlight, caution and suspicion were at an all-time high.
For King Marc, the crown felt especially heavy that morning, hence he decided to remove that fused chunk of 12 precious metals and place it on the circular table occupying the center of the war room. The table features a carved map of the United Kingdoms, a territory that forms a great circle in the upper half of Aria, the principal of the three great continents, its siblings being Celtia and Eularia.
The belt of humanity, as it is colloquially known, has 13 key points, 13 kingdoms, twelve forming the outline of the circle, and one in the center: The Magic Kingdom. It was the Mage King who ended humanity's wars and unified them into a single faction, at least on the continent of Aria. Although, rather than perfect harmony, the United Kingdoms exist due to the fear all rulers feel toward the Mage King. If for some strange reason the supreme sorcerer were to disappear, humanity would most likely fall back into a spiral of violence and ambitions.
"Of course, that is impossible," Marc mutters with a bitter smile. "The Mage King cannot die."
"Can one who disobeys death be considered part of humanity?" A sweet voice interrupts from a corner whose shadows are deeper than normal.
Marc frowns in a severe expression, annoyed at being surprised when he considered himself in private. He doesn't need to turn around; he recognizes who it is.
"Laikara... I imagine you bring more than vague gossip about affairs between stable boys and maids."
From the shadows emerges a woman with slanted green eyes, a shaved head, and clad in a tight black tunic, a golden eye embroidered near her heart. The woman's smile is so subtle she barely seems to have one.
"Not at all, Your Majesty, I bring you much dirtier and more boring gossip: political whispers. I am here to warn you that the queen has already sent her bird to sing."
Marc lets out a grunt, barely a word, his eyes fixed on the map. Laikara continues speaking.
"If the queen's father finds out, the other kings will know too, and they will want to meet the new power factor in our world. And even if the queen's phoenix were to suffer a tragic accident, it would be impossible to hide such an astonishing phenomenon for long."
"You speak of the crystal." Marc brings a hand to his beard and scratches it. Its softness and the scent of perfume annoy him, leading to a feeling of self-contempt. "The Mage King will most likely order the Dungeon Core destroyed to maintain the balance."
"And you, of course, will obey," Laikara says with a mocking tone.
Marc turns to look at her and straightens his back. The ruler's nearly two meters of height make the witch look much thinner and more fragile. Even so, Laikara does not hesitate to hold his gaze.
"I am not a true king, nor do I possess the ambitions of one. I am here out of duty and responsibility."
"But what about those who were born to rule? Won't they want to keep a power capable of changing the outcome of a war?"
"You're saying the kings will want Arrax's research..."
"It wouldn't be the first time powerful people try to keep secrets away from the Mage King's eyes."
"That would be suicide. Destruction."
Laikara shrugs.
"In truth, how do we know if the Mage King still cares about us? Most likely, he is one step away from transcendence, and the true overseers of our fragile system are a masquerade of the old sorcerers."
"You speak like a traitor, Laikara."
"I speak the truth, Marc," Laikara says, dropping her smile. "Like you, I am here out of responsibility. We are children of the old wars between brothers; no one wishes to return to that... At least not you, and not I."
"What do you advise me to do?"
"Destroy the crystal, destroy Arrax's research, and destroy Arrax himself and his disciples."
Marc slams a fist on the table, making it shudder.
"Pay for my subjects' efforts with blood? Is that your plan?" Marc questions, baring and grinding his teeth.
"It is merely a suggestion, Your Majesty."
Laikara says, stepping back into the shadows. The only thing standing out in the deep darkness are the woman's green eyes.
"At the end of the day, you bear the crown."
The oracle closes her eyes and disappears.
Marc remains in silence, finally alone, head bowed and deep in thought for several minutes, until someone knocks on the wooden door.
"Who is at the door?"
"It is your captains, Your Majesty," Hilda says.
"Come in." Marc tries to soften his tone but fails; he remains irritated by the conversation with Laikara.
The door opens and the woman steps in, equipped in her armor, as are Lynel and Claus. The three captains line up and kneel. Seeing his knights bearing the weight of their duties, Marc decides to don the crown again before giving the captains permission to raise their heads and stand. The king's gaze sweeps over the group from left to right.
"Claus, I heard you fought with the same courage as always."
"Facing evil is always a pleasure for me, Your Majesty," replies the strongest man in the kingdom with a tranquil smile, adjusting his brown bangs; his messy hair usually sticks out from under his golden helm.
"Lynel, how does your new arm feel?"
"Better than the last one, Your Majesty!" Lynel exclaims, flexing the arm that was severed during the invasion, now healthy and strong thanks to the clerics' healing magic.
"Hilda, how are the kingdom's repairs coming along?"
"Everyone is giving their best effort. In the poorer districts, a few groups of looters sprang up, but the soldiers quickly imprisoned them. As for the invaders' corpses... I personally oversaw that they were thrown back into the great chasm to prevent plagues of the undead or diseases."
Hilda also clarifies that the great chasm is clear, but just in case, she posted patrols to watch the border should the elves think of attacking again. Marc nods and congratulates all his captains, though his demeanor seems somewhat distant.
"Is something troubling you, Your Majesty?" Hilda asks.
"Tell me, did you inform Claus and Lynel about what really happened?"
Hilda frowns and shakes her head.
"You forbade us from speaking of the matter..."
"And it's a good thing I did," the king says, letting out a sigh. "This whole situation might be more complicated than I initially imagined."
Claus and Lynel exchange glances. The man with the mustache raises a hand.
"Your Majesty, may I ask what you are talking about?"
"Sir Lynel, I suspect they are speaking of the walls," Claus interrupts, his eyes closed.
Lynel shudders and nods repeatedly, getting excited again at the memory of what happened.
"A true miracle! The red priests who treated my arm swore it was the work of Mitras, and honestly, I believe them. Mitras is the divinity most attuned to honorable warriors like us."
Hilda's lips curl into a grimace hearing Lynel speak with such respect and illusion. King Marc frowns.
"Did I say something wrong?" Lynel asks upon catching Hilda's displeased expression.
"The walls were not the work of any god, but of sorcery," King Marc says.
Lynel's eyes widen. Claus places a hand under his chin, starting to look much more interested.
"Is there a mage in the kingdom with enough power to do what we saw yesterday?" the first captain questions. "I would like to meet someone of such a caliber."
"It was Arrax," Hilda replies bluntly, averting her gaze.
"Hilda, are you sure of what you're saying?" Lynel asks in disbelief. "I won't say I underestimate Sir Arrax's abilities, but what we saw yesterday is completely beyond his magic."
"It is best that you see it for yourselves," King Marc asserts.
The ruler thinks that, perhaps with Lynel's opinion, and especially Claus's, he can wisely decide what to do with the Dungeon Core before the rest of the kingdoms find out about the crystal and want to steal it, or worse, try to create their own.