“You know, Lith, back when I crafted Ruin, there was a reason for its name. Wherever you go, shit happens and people die, yet you always thrive. The Kingdom almost gets destroyed by a plague and you get rich.
“The academies almost fall because of Balkor first and Nalear later, yet you survive and everyone makes a hero out of you. No matter if the shit rains or pours, you always come on top, fresh like a daisy.
“Back then, I considered you a scourge, someone who destroys everything he touches, the harbinger of Ruin. Hence the sword.” Orion sat back on his chair, his voice was now calm.
“How dare you say such cruel things to my son? I thought we were friends!” Raaz stood up in outrage. Orion could probably break him in half with only one hand, but what stopped Raaz from jumping at his throat was their bond, not fear.
“We are, Raaz. I’m sorry, but those were my thoughts back then. I was angry about what had happened to my baby girls and I was looking for someone to blame. It took me a while to realize that no one is at fault but the goddamn Odi and the twice goddamned power games of the Royal Court.
“Lith isn’t bad luck. Whoever says that is envious, scared, or both. Your son is neither a monster or a hero, just a survivor. Living for too long in peaceful times makes people forget how the lives of those like me and Lith are akin to war.
“War does not determine who is right. Only who is left. Your new sword will ensure that no matter the situation you are in, Lith, you’ll be the last man standing.” Orion pushed War toward Lith, who hesitated for a second before imprinting it with his mana.
The grip of the blade reacted to the imprint by shapeshifting its surface into small spikes that prickled even Lith’s hardened skin and made him bleed. The grip sucked the blood along with the mana and then the entire sword started to change.
The red droplets flowed through the metal, activating the pseudo core and revealing the runes hidden under the silvery surface. The blade turned crimson while the hilt blackened and the guard shapeshifted from a simple cross into upward hooks.
The round pommel turned into a spike while the blade became wider and the runes rearranged themselves along its surface before becoming invisible again.
The entire process lasted barely a second, yet once it was over, the only thing unchanged about War’s appearance was the position of the mana crystals aligned on its fuller.
“What the heck?” Lith said after noticing that the wounds on his hand were already healed.
“War is not like any other sword.” Orion said. “It changes its appearance to match its user and doesn’t tolerate being wielded by anyone else. The enchantments I’ve imbued it with and the Adamant of the blade allow War to always find both its marks and its master, but beware.
“Never leave it around because the safety protocols don’t discriminate between friends and foes. Never unsheathe War unless you plan on using it, because it will refuse to return to its scabbard until it draws blood.”
“What scabbard?” Raaz stared at the blade in awe, yet his feelings turned into horror when he noticed that War was exuding a red liquid that engulfed the blade before turning solid.
“Are you sure you’re not going to get in trouble for this?” Lith asked.
“Damn sure. Not even I knew what War would look like after you imprinted it. Only three people know about its existence and all of them are in this room right now. Now let’s go back to the Ballroom before my missus starts to wonder what the heck we are plotting.” Orion said.
***
The following day, City of Valeron, inside the Royal castle.
The King’s Council Chamber was part of his private apartments and it was located inside a heavily guarded tower. The room was about 6 meters (20 feet) long and 4 meters (13 feet) wide with only a round table and several wooden chairs as furniture.
The round table didn’t mean that every opinion held the same importance, it was simply the only way to be heard from every side of the room without the need for shouting non-stop.
Aside from the furniture, the room was bare, with no windows and only one entrance. Both the floor and the walls were of a pale grey, there was no color outside that of the magical stones the room was made of.
The whole place was enchanted to prevent eavesdropping, either by conventional or magical means. It was also equipped with all the necessary protections to avoid the entirety of its occupants from getting killed in one fell swoop.
Normally, either the King or the Queen would use it to discuss important matters with their respective subjects, the army and the Mage Association. This time, however, the rulers of the Kingdom were presiding over the meeting together.
The upper echelons of both the most powerful and important institutions of the Griffon Kingdom had been summoned to deliberate about the situation at hand.
“I think you are just overreacting.” Archmage Kwart, the Chairman of the Association said. “Who cares if Verhen quits the army? As long as his family lives here, we have leverage above him.
“Manipulating someone through the people they held dear is the basic of the basics. He’s gotten too conceited because the Queen’s Corps has always protected that shithole he calls home.
“Leave Lutia without detail for one week and Verhen will be the one coming to us, begging for help. Only the gods know how many enemies he’s made over the years among the members of all the four races.”
“My not so much esteemed colleague is forgetting that Lith Verhen made himself those enemies while serving the Kingdom.” Mirim Distar, the Supreme Commander of the Queen’s Corps said.
“If we follow his advice, what message are we sending to our loyal subjects? Thanks for your service, but we’ll discard you the moment you’re no longer needed?” Her voice was oozing sarcasm. “Hasn’t the Ernas’s situation already done enough damage?”
“What the Commander is forgetting, probably due to her age, is that’s exactly the purpose of this meeting.” Kwart’s voice was as sweet as an unripe lemon. “Sending the message that people serve the Kingdom and not the other way around.
“The Ernas are just like Verhen. They think to be above the law, to be special. It’s time to remind them that personal success doesn’t grant special treatment. In this time of turmoil, using double standards can only backfire.
“Think of what happened with Acala. You have showered Verhen with so much glory that a good man who had honorably served the Kingdom all his life fell prey to the Bright Day just because he felt unappreciated.”
“I couldn’t disagree more.” Brigadier General Berion said. “It’s not a matter of double standards so much as to reward merit. Back in his day, Ranger Acala did a decent job, sure, but Ranger Verhen destroyed the Black Star, got us two ancient Odi ruins, and I could go on for hours.
“If we treat them the same way, then why should the next Verhen put his life on the line if excellency is rewarded the same as mediocrity?”
