Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Sundenelle is doing what she can to tidy up her desk when the door opens quickly and a figure swoops in before closing it. It’s her loyal Knight Commander, Ecklevon. He says quietly, “It’s done. The rest is up to them.”
“Good,” whispers Sundenelle. She sent the primary person she can fully rely on to make sure Zuzia was delivered to the right place without issues. Ecklevon is not an unquestioning stooge, which is why she can count on him when he does question her plans, or when he seems to go along with the craziness.
Now is the latter.
“Xyreko, I know you’re there, and I’m sure you’ve been monitoring me,” whispers Sundenelle as Ecklevon guards the door. “Please swap me out with an illusion. Sir Larven is indisposed, and I think I’m in danger here.”
Without toying with her, an apparent knight appears in the corner of the room armed with one of the Fievegal’s advanced rapid-fire rifles. This knight is more like a suit of armor that can move on its own, though it is loyal and protective.
The golem switches out with a smaller one, and though it shares appearance traits with Xyreko, the voice that comes out of it is male. “I am Ucahote. Minister Xyreko is indisposed.” Three more golems appear, each taking the form of Sundenelle, Larven, and Ecklevon respectively. “I’ll run these golems briefly myself using what I’ve observed. To keep you both connected continuously will be mana-intensive, and we’re still scraping by at the moment. Do you have anything you need to take with you?”
“All here,” replies Sundenelle, patting her bag. “But, you can do Sir Ecklevon as well?”
“Yes, that is no problem. The most challenging would actually be your mother, since she has very little voice when she’s in audience, so I don’t have a profile on how she might behave in situations that crop up. I think it may be better to keep her ‘absent’ for now. Sir Ecklevon, are you prepared as well?”
The gatonine knight ponders the offer for a moment. He remarks quietly, “There are some things I need to stay on top of to be able to do my job as your guard, your Majesty.”
“Not worth it,” states Sundenelle bluntly.
“Wh-What?”
“I have two people in my life that I’ve been able to put my full trust in, and I wouldn’t be Empress without them; Mother and you. Others helped, but it’s no secret that you are one of my greatest pieces in the Empire.” She sighs. “Take us both, Ucahote. If something happens to Ecklevon, or if someone approaches him, please let us know immediately.”
“Understood. We’ll give the original Sir Ecklevon a crash course on firearms as well, so that the golem can act defensively if need be.”
Sundenelle nods. “Please do. Let’s go, Ecklevon. I’m not leaving you here. Think of it this way. If you let me go by myself, who will protect me from my lecherous fiance?”
Both the golem and the gatonine scoff together, and Ecklevon reluctantly admits as he approaches the group, “I’m more worried about the rumors that will go around about your fidelity if you keep me around so often, your Majesty.”
She smirks. “Something tells me if I told Daniel I intend to keep you as a lover, he wouldn’t object.” She looks at Ucahote, and the golem is quiet for a moment.
“I’m not the gossip that Xyreko is, but his Grace would not stand between true love. He’d probably make the marriage political-only in that case.”
“Hear that Ecklevon? I’m afraid if I want to have a lawful heir…”
“Yes, yes,” replies the gatonine warmly. “Let’s get this over with. I want everything to go back to normal.”
Ucahote teleports the two back to the Citadel, and they arrive in the remote receiving station at the perimeter fortress. Ucahote declares loudly, “Iron Three, Iron Three! Code Violet. All hands at ease.”
“Code violet confirmed!” replies the higher-pitched voice of a goblin male, and Sundenelle’s vision clears of the teleportation light in time to see a small troop of goblin soldiers armored like otherworldly specialists lowering their weapons and relaxing their posture.
“Empress Sundenelle, Grendel Four welcomes return.”
“I’m home,” replies Sundenelle warmly. She’s certain, like many other systematic methods being implemented in the Fievegal, that the code has something to do with alerting the troops to stand down about the arrival.
“Please follow me, your Majesty,” states Ucahote as he leaves the small containment area for the teleportation spell arrival, and he escorts them through a section where some horizontal paint lines cut the walkway into a few sections. Once they’re past the last paint section, Ucahote stops and turns around. “One moment, please.”
With that, they teleport to the control room, where most of the Fievegal’s Empresses and other high ranking members have gathered. Displayed on the wall that most of them are facing is an image that could pass as a window, but it depicts the four most senior dragons in terms of rank speaking to one Sundenelle doesn’t recognize due to her green tones, which extends to her hair. It makes her touch her own snow-white hair to study the semi-glassy color.
That said, the discussion the dragons are having is quiet, and the Empresses are discussing the hatchlings, which are adorable little reptilian babies cradled in the human-form arms of their mothers.
“Your Grace,” greets Aramellianna as Sundenelle and Ecklevon approach, and Byleathea, who is also seated nearby, smiles and greets her as well.
“Please excuse me if I’m intruding,” states Sundenelle. It’s rare that she gets to say that anymore, since the Emperor or Empress of the GZE is the Empire itself, as far as Imperial Law is concerned. Any room, any place, and any conversation are hers if she so chooses to be present.
In the Fievegal, she’s back to being more akin to a Princess; she can go and do anything she wants, but others carry the true responsibility.
“Empress Sundenelle,” greets Hekate as she walks in. “Welcome back!”
Somewhat surprisingly, Hekate is the one carrying the small feldrok child that was recovered from the last away mission that Sundenelle knows about. Even in just a few days since, Fal’s complexion, fur coat, and limbs are starting to show more definition, such that he almost looks like a small wolf or fox pup now instead of some sort of tiny demon spawn. And, not in the general ‘demon-kin’ sense, but an actual nightmare demon.
“Thank you, your Greatness,” replies Sundenelle. There are no other Empires on the continent that the GZE interacts with, but Sundenelle has always known that she is but a human being with a powerful position, in spite of the nearly-divine status that is often granted to her to the masses. As such, she readily accepts those who are her equal or higher rank, such as Hekate, who has been the one most specifically referred to as ‘her Greatness’ because she is the founding Empress of the Fievegal, regardless of the reckless changing of sovereign that occurs without warning.
“I assume you were able to get the Imperial nobles to ask for our help?” asks Hekate, since that was the goal with sending the albino Empress away.
“There is some resistance, but everyone has agreed to have an audience with the Fievegal. There… are advantages to having a remote audience with an ambassador, as well as with the full Fievegal sovereignty, as far as how the nobles will perceive our relationship.”
Hekate stares at her with a serious expression, but her ears shift in a way that Sundenelle believes means the feldrok teen has no idea what she means.
“You want us to send the full sovereignty to show the Fievegal respects the Empire as equals,” states Aramellianna bluntly.
The young red-eyed empress smiles softly. Byleathea tries to come to her defense, since it is exactly what she hopes the Fievegal will agree to. “The Empire’s aristocracy is storied and possesses long, unbroken bloodlines. Many of them may not respect the Fievegal’s unknown bloodlines, with exception of the Stalvaltan family.”
“Then, they don’t appreciate how much they need us,” states Doephluev coldly.
Baeka, who isn’t presently an Empress, but she seems to be quite familiar enough that she could be if she asked, speaks up this time, “If I may, what if we use Grand Duchess Senior Aramellianna, then? She has the bloodline, her rank is high within the Fievegal, and she knows how to navigate the eastern aristocracy.”
“They may view it as weakness,” offers Gwenesphia. “Though not as prevalent in Mattarglos, I know that when my family was interacting with other countries, Father had to be mindful of the rank of person he was dealing with, and would often go himself because Baron is the lowest titled-rank in most kingdoms.”
“Then, should I go?” asks Hekate. Officially, she is reported as the Empress of the Fievegal, even if the Peace Summit displayed their wanton changing of the crown on near literal whims. “No offense, but I don’t really care at all about the East, especially anything that isn’t the Stalvaltan territory or Eri’s kingdom. If your people don’t want to listen to me, then I have nothing to lose if I wait until it becomes a problem for me.” Her ears flatten a little, and she adds with a bitter smile, “Daniel would be sad, since he doesn’t want innocent people to die, but innocent people have never cared if I die, so… I still need to develop that feeling, I guess…”
“I’m sure I would be effective as well,” adds Doephluev. “I genuinely don’t care about anyone but myself and Darling, so they can take it or leave it.”
Sundenelle sighs. She can understand both of their viewpoints. Neither of them grew up as even a princess, let alone in any capacity to ever believe they would rule a nation. The Fievegal keeps its citizens alive, but they are few in number, and they haven’t really had to deal with the true challenges of governing, such as famine, over-supply, pestilence, and full-scale war. Because their borders are still ambiguously weak from their small size, the only real battles the Fievegal has had to face were right at their castle door-steps, and they brutally drove back all attacks so far.
If the rumors and what Sundenelle herself has gathered are true, Hekate was a slave for her entire life until Daniel freed her by slaying her master, and Doephluev was some sort of mercenary or soldier-slave, since she doesn’t have the refinement of formal military, but she does seem to be able to emulate higher-etiquette behaviors when necessary.
Sundenelle thinks for a moment. If this was merely her normal self, with no attachment to the Fievegal, she would request as many of the Empresses as she can. She can handle their numbers, for the most part, and even if they bully her or act magnanimous, Sundenelle could use it strategically to show how their authority is divided and chaotic, or she could emphasize how the Fievegal acknowledges the true divine strength of the Grand Zenkon Empire’s sovereign.
But, these women are her allies, and soon enough, her co-consorts. But, since Daniel himself insists that the Empresses all outrank him in terms of authority, even if he makes many of the calls, it needs to be an Empress if it’s the ‘true sovereign ruler of the Fievegal’.
Likewise, having Aramellianna handle it would somewhat demonstrate that Sundenelle will be ‘stepping up’ into the Fievegal, rather than moving laterally when she marries into their ranks.
Sundenelle replies, “If you would, I believe Hekate will present the best possible impression for both sides.” Everyone looks to her for clarification, and the slightly older sovereign explains, “The Fievegal, and specifically you and Daniel, are known to go against convention on a regular basis. But, your power is one that can hardly be ignored, as is your inexperience.”
Hekate’s ears match her eyes when she turns a scowl on Sundenelle, and the snow-haired Empress adds with a gentle smile, “I mean no offense, but it means no one will be surprised if you don’t realize the power balance implications by showing up yourself, even if it’s via an illusion. The rest of…
will be sufficient to restore the ‘swing’, so to speak.”
“I agree with her Grace,” replies Aramellianna. “Leave your wardrobe to me, and it won’t matter what you say or do, for better or worse. I advise that we see how the conversation goes, but no one will be surprised if you take a completely mercenary stance on the matter, an arrogant stance, or a humanitarian stance.”
“Mm…” hums Hekate as her ears perk up. “Mercenary sounds…”
A small, somewhat whining noise starts from Hekate’s arms, and it seems that Fal is waking up. Her attention drawn to him, Hekate’s own expression becomes distant, and her eyes soften.
Sundenelle watches the melting of Hekate’s apathy as she makes some sort of connection from seeing the baby feldrok, which she has been holding carefully and securely, in spite of where he seems to have spit up on her shoulder, which she ignored.
“I’ll do it,” replies Hekate softly. “Aramellianna, please make me look beautiful and powerful like the Empress of the whole world. No! Even better,...” She grins brightly. “Since I plan to help, I want to keep everyone guessing.” She puffs her androgynously flat chest up as much as she can, holding Fal affectionately. “Please turn me into the Empress of… Evil. Mwahahahaha!”
Fal starts fussing, and Hekate immediately abandons her facade to coo, “Shh, it’s okay, Fal. Mama Hekate will protect you…”
The brunette Grand Duchess Senior clears her throat. “I and my maids will do what we can, your Greatness. Empress Sundenelle, when will the audience be?”
“I will gather the aristocracy in the morning, since my fastest scouts should hopefully return by then to report on the ongoing damage.”
“Good. Then we’ll…” starts Hekate before a sudden event interrupts her rather violently.
Without any warning, as if waking from a nightmare, Fal starts squirming and thrashing violently in Hekate’s arms. Before she can try to calm him, an ear-splitting sound erupts out of the deceptively tiny being. For the moment, it is only crying, but it’s painful for Sundenelle, driving her back and away from both feldroks as everyone else who was close is forced away from her as well.
Hekate screams, “Run! Everyone run!”
Sundenelle’s heart skips a beat when Hekate nearly tosses the baby, but the teen halts herself, bracing against her own apparent fear-driven instincts to hug the infant feldrok as tears form in her eyes. She stumbles backwards, but obviously can’t escape the shrill sound the infant is producing as the one holding him. She can only sink to her knees, unable to do anything but insist, “Run away!”
Everyone retreats away from Hekate and Sundenelle. Even the human empress can feel her own heart racing and instincts screaming at her to flee far away, and Ecklevon groans in pain as he flops to the ground near the edge of the lounge area.
Hekate starts to set Fal down on the ground gently, but the moment his body touches the floor, the screaming wails of an unbelievably powerful baby become an indescribable sound that seems to penetrate the entire being of everyone present. A visible wave of energy sweeps out away from Fal, hitting Sundenelle like a hot wind and swirling almost tangible mana around everything that serves as an obstacle to the wave. Hekate’s black hair and fur flutter as she braces her ears back as far as they can go, the best she can do to protect her big sensitive ears while her hands are occupied.
She cries out in pain, trying to stay conscious, by all appearances.
From her perspective at a range that gives some reduction to the horrifying sensations of piercing sound, sickening mana ‘wind’, and a near vertigo-inducing nausea, the young woman can see her counterpart’s normally pitch-black hair and fur start to color-shift to a shade of blue before her very eyes.
Sundenelle is still quite uneducated about feldroks, but given several of the events that have occurred, she is certain that they are capable of absorbing mana more actively than any other living being the human knows of.
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The sheer scope of mana that Hekate can absorb is what’s worrying, but not nearly as concerning as the tiny creature producing that mana.
The albino human searches around herself desperately as she keeps her ears covered. It does little good, but it’s the best she can do to even
to reduce the terrifying volume of the pint-sized banshee.
Sundenelle glances around. Everyone is being repulsed by the mana, while those with child have evacuated entirely. This leaves Baeka, Sundenelle, Ecklevon, Byleathea, Aramellianna, Kera’tai, Aoloan, Vaergraes, and Arachne as the only ones lingering. And, Ecklevon is moving to evacuate Sundenelle, but the immense pain on his sensitive gatonine ears is even more profound, keeping him several yards away from him.
Sundenelle signals with her hand towards Byleathea, and Ecklevon glances. He shakes his head, but it’s clear the pain will drive him unconscious soon, if not into shock and possible death.
Sundenelle shakes her head in disappointment, but she pushes herself towards Hekate. She doesn’t have time to dawdle, and Hekate is unable to commit to either picking Fal up or putting him down, since putting him down seems to have sparked the even worse crying, making him dangerous, and reclaiming him, which she can barely do, has done nothing to reverse it.
Sundenelle can only recite this as a mantra, focusing solely on reaching Hekate. The closer she gets, the more nauseous she feels, and the more she feels like her skin is crawling. It’s not quite the same as a sunburn, which Sundenelle has to actively avoid. But, this mana wave is intense, and it definitely leaves her feeling awful.
Sundenelle’s knees are shaking by the time she reaches Hekate, and she knows if she falls to a kneel like Hekate, neither of them will get up again.
It doesn’t seem like it has gotten much worse volume wise, though that could be because the sound seems to ignore her ears and drill straight into her mind. She probably couldn’t hear it if a gunshot were to go off next to her.
The snow-haired teen pulls Hekate up by the bicep, feeling a sort of warm tingle coming off of the smaller teen. It’s similar to the amber effect that can generate small lightning bolts without magic, but slightly different.
Still, Hekate manages to follow, stumbling almost completely blindly as her watering eyes obscure her vision. Sundenelle has to all but guide her, doing her best to keep her own pain-watering eyes clear as she makes her way to the secure area of the control room, which effectively behaves like an open area when authorized members of the Citadel are present, which thankfully includes Sundenelle now.
She notices that Aramellianna is clearing the way with Ecklevon and Byleathea, making sure everyone else is clear of the path to the control room’s donation altar. She feels relief, since she can’t let her own nor Hekate’s momentum falter.
She can feel and see the mana swirling off of her own body. She feels like she’ll soon be sweating liquid mana itself. It’s extremely uncomfortable; a full swing to the opposite spectrum from depleting her mana. Overloading one’s magical energy is rare, especially in humans, but it does happen to soldiers occasionally who use too many mana potions, have certain spells cast on them, or get hit with certain after-effects of incoming attacks can sometimes experience it.
It’s not true, of course, but it helps to at least distract herself from it.
The trio reach the altar, and Sundenelle places Hekate’s hand on the pedestal itself. She screams words, though she can’t hear her own voice. Only her breath leaving her lungs and the burning in her throat tell the young Empress that she’s calling out.
Nothing happens right away, and Sundenelle all but falls onto the altar as her strength is giving out. Fal is still wailing, since his cries are piercing into her mind like glass. She likely won’t stop hearing it for hours, or even days.
Thankfully, the altar begins to glow, and the sweeping mana rolling off of Hekate, Sundenelle, and most obviously, Fal all starts to fade quickly, and Hekate’s knees give out as she collapses against the altar. She flops her head against it, seeming to take relief from the cool metal of the pedestal. Sundenelle can’t help but do the same, and she can feel the heat of the mana that was sickening her being pulled away.
The next thing that Sundenelle feels is her own body jolting awake to soft singing from a male voice. Her head is throbbing, and her heart feels exhausted. Her skin tingles, though it’s not painful like a sunburn on her abnormally fair complexion. Her eyes fall upon a pair of legs when she opens them ending with boots that are still somewhat alien to her because of their otherworldly design.
Her head is resting on a human thigh, and she rolls over to look at her rescuer as he continues to sing.
The albino empress flinches when her melanistic counterpart’s broad, fox-like ear flicks reflexively, batting Sundenelle unwittingly in the face. Hekate is lying on Daniel’s other thigh, still unconscious from the looks of it.
“Hey,” whispers Daniel. When he isn’t talking, he keeps humming the song he was singing until a moment ago. The language he was singing in is alien to Sundenelle, meaning it’s likely Daniel’s mother-tongue, since he is said to only know Eastern Imperial Trade out of Zenkon’s languages, with words from Gruyen of the goblins and a few even more select phrases from the dragons.
“What happened?” whispers Sundenelle, since Daniel is cradling Fal, who is chewing on his finger.
“I’m not sure… I was hoping you two could tell me…” Fal squeaks, and Daniel begins singing again. The song is soft and peaceful, and it has a sort of captivating quality to it, in spite of his voice being rather simplistic. He can’t project his voice like an opera singer, nor is he reaching range and emotion that Sundenelle has heard in plays.
Yet, his singing seems to have a sort of sincerity behind it that even the best plays and operas aspire to capture. Fal immediately quiets down, continuing to nibble on Daniel’s finger.
“I-... Is he… hungry?” asks Sundenelle softly. It was so sudden and without warning that the infant suddenly went off.
“I tried, but he refused the milk. He wouldn’t stop until I let him chew on my finger…”
“D… Does it hurt?”
“No. He doesn’t have any teeth yet, thankfully.”
Hekate groans as she shifts. “Mrrm… D-Daniel?”
“I’m here, Sweetpea.” The Emperor shifts his grip carefully on Fal so he can pet the fox-eared Empress’s head, and rather than roll over or sit up, she shifts more comfortably onto Daniel’s lap, clinging to his thigh.
“Daniel… Fal… I… couldn’t calm him… I’m sorry…”
“You both did well,” replies Daniel softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”
The feldrok teen’s ears perk up, and she asks rather seriously and with a tone of surprise, “Am I not dreaming right now?”
Daniel chuckles. “No.” He pinches the tip of Hekate’s ear, and she growls. The younger Empress finally rolls over, realizing Sundenelle is observing her as well. Hekate scowls slightly for a moment, but her expressive ears tilt and turn a few directions as she pieces it all together.
“I’m fairly confident what we went through wasn’t a dream, Hekate…”
“That’s right…” whispers the ravenette. “It was so loud… and painful.” She sits up, looking at Daniel urgently. “I didn’t do anything! I was just holding him, and he suddenly started crying! And, before I could do anything else, it was the pain noise again!”
“Quiet down!” hisses Daniel. Fal’s own ears start to flick, and his tail squirms in Daniel’s arms. “Shhh, Fal.” The tone of the song changes as Daniel starts a new one, which is another song whose words Sundenelle doesn’t recognize.
Hekate’s ears flatten down, and she apologizes, “Sorry…” She then explains in a softer tone, “I really was just holding him. He was so well behaved at the time.”
Sundenelle sits up as well, and she notices that the others haven’t entered the donation room. “Is… everyone else alright?”
“Yes,” replies Daniel softly. “I asked them to wait outside to minimize the crowding, in case that’s what set him off.”
The albino empress observes the small pup-like babe. She notices
he’s chewing on the otherworlder’s finger. He’s not suckling. He’s specifically chewing.
“It got worse when Hekate tried to set him down,” remarks Sundenelle thoughtfully.
“I-I had to!” whispers the feldrok teen defensively. “I almost… I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t… It hurt… s-s-so much…”
“Shh, Hekate. It’s alright. You did everything right. I’m proud of you.” He then looks at Sundenelle. “But, the floor, hm? Did he get cold?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” replies the snow-haired teen. “He was bundled up the whole time.”
“And it started for no reason, and ended pretty easily…”
“He’s really chewing on your hand. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” asks Hekate as she leans over the baby.
“You’re welcome to try it,” jokes Daniel.
The ravenette shakes her head, earning her a chuckle from both Daniel and Sundenelle.
“Xyreko, please send in Aramellianna or Byleathea. Or both of them, if they’re willing.”
“As you wish, Daniel,” comes back Xyreko’s disembodied voice.
A moment later, the two matrons enter the room cautiously. Byleathea asks after Sundenelle immediately, “Sun, are you alright?”
“I am, Mother. We made it, somehow.”
“Do either of you have any insight about Fal’s sudden tantrum?”
“Infants can suddenly become agitated,” replies Byleathea. “Sun… Her Majesty would…”
“Just speak casually, please,” interrupts Daniel softly. “I want the answers more than formalities.”
She dips her head respectfully. “She would cry quite frequently without being hungry, thirsty, or… soiled.”
Sundenelle groans softly, “Motherrr…”
“The sun was a tricky one to recognize, but a doctor from the far east explained to his Majesty and I what her condition was, since he had experienced it where others in our local territories and nations had not.”
“Is he teething?” asks Aramellianna curiously.
“Teething?” asks Hekate.
“Yes. Five daughters, I would say so.” She approaches and studies Daniel, who is still seated against the altar. “Fal is a bit small to be starting his teeth, I think, but it can be irritating or even painful for small children.”
“Yes… Sun also did chew… quite a bit.” Byleathea gives a light scowl at her Imperial daughter that is lightened further by her sarcastic smirk. She massages her chest subtly, reminiscing on days long past.
“Ah, and growing pains. Yanidere and Bunnrimae sprouted like little nightcotes. Complained for more than a day each time they experienced it.”
“Yes, Sundenelle’s wetnurse mentioned that regarding her son. Overall, Sun was an easygoing child.”
“You’re embarrassing me, Mother…” murmurs the young sovereign.
This seems to click for Daniel, though. “Growing pains… So, Fal starts hurting, and he has no way of stopping it… The best remedy is distraction. That does make enough sense…”
Byleathea offers, “The wetnurse mentioned that massages can help.”
“More importantly, Mother,” starts Daniel. “I’m going to need your eldest daughter to design a cradle for Fal.”
“I can relay the message, your Grace,” teases the Grand Duchess Senior. “But, she specializes in magic devices, as you know, not carpentry.”
“I think that’s what he wants,” replies Hekate wearily. “A cradle that is a magic device. R-Right?” She looks at Daniel innocently, and he smiles and nods.
“Specifically, one that’s tied into the Citadel’s mana channels.”
“Y-... You don’t intend to use him as a battery for the Citadel, do you?” asks Byleathea. She quickly adds, “Y-Your Grace…”
“I’d be lying if I gave you a hard ‘no’, but I don’t intend to leave him unattended in a cradle while he cries.” Daniel switches his finger that Fal is chewing on, since the little feldrok’s nibbling is getting slightly raw on his fingertip. “Mostly, I want an interception method and a place to put him if he goes out of control when I’m not present. And, if we’re lucky, the lead-golems can get close and give him a massage or a teething ring.”
“I see… That does make sense…” murmurs the Imperial Mother.
“Daniel, if you don’t mind my asking…” starts Sundenelle. He gives her a quick nod, and she asks her question, “What took you so long to arrive this time? You were already in the Citadel, yes?” She places her hands on his arm gently, adding softly, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, nor accusatory. I just… was worried if we didn’t make it, what would have happened…”
The otherworlder sighs. “Sorry about that… Xyreko informed me immediately, but when we tried to move to the control room, the mana Fal was emitting was interfering with the teleportation. The closest I could get was the floor below us. And, as you know, the Citadel is rather large.”
She smiles. “I understand. Thank you for rushing to our rescue…”
“Ah-heh-HEM!” blurts out Hekate as she feigns clearing her throat in a dramatic way. She shuffles onto Daniel’s lap to try to crowd out Sundenelle from getting any friendlier with him.
Hekate holds up her hand, showing a ring with an amber stone on it. “Do you have one of
No?”
Sundenelle is caught off-guard, and Hekate makes a ‘shoo’ motion as she cuddles with Daniel. “I accept your betrothal. But, Daniel is mine first.”
“Please don’t agitate Fal, Hekate,” warns Daniel with a dry smirk. “Serrentuk should have deployed by now. We can’t screw around for much longer.”
“Tell that to Fal,” complains the feldrok girl softly.
Sundenelle explains, “We landed on a plan for Hekate to ‘visit’ the Empire, and hopefully, our nobles will agree to ask her for help. Neith is likely already engaged in battle with Zuzia.”
Daniel nods. “Problem is, Neith and Serrentuk are probably the only ones who can fight her on her terms. We’ll focus on the fire unless they call for help.”
The group nods, and Aramellianna says, “I’ll inform Wenlie about the cradle for Fal, though it may take time.”
“Tell her she can use whatever she needs. Fal appears to have dumped a ton of mana through Hekate into the Citadel, so I will even be able to use a couple of Fiendbreakers again if we need to.”
Daniel’s “bright side” brings an awkward silence. He just casually brought up one of his superweapons as a joke, though it’s also a grim reality. The power consumed by the Fiendbreaker attacks on the monster known as ‘Kernuules’ depleted the Citadel almost completely for a short time.
And Fal singlehandedly restored it.
“How… does Fal have so much mana?” asks Sundenelle softly.
“As far as I can tell,” starts Daniel in explanation. He glances only briefly at Hekate. “Feldroks do expand their mana pool naturally over the course of their lifetimes, but they more rapidly expand it in the presence of… unneeded mana from… other sources.”
Sundenelle is confused briefly by his wording, since it feels like he’s intentionally dancing around the subject.
“You mean… death?” asks Sundenelle.
Daniel is silent, but Hekate confirms. “Yes. When Daniel and I killed monsters, I got noticeably stronger really quickly. After the Devourer, though, I don’t really notice it as much.”
“My guess is that Fal… has been present for a great many deaths over a great many years,” continues Daniel. “I think he’s far older than he appears, but only because he was trapped in his petrified state for so long. I don’t know if mana will promote his growth, but either way, he is finally being fed and taken care of. Growing pains will likely be common and aggressive.”
“Could it be related to the derelict egg you found in Mattarglos, Daniel?” asks Aramellianna.
“I’m not sure, but that’s another factor. The egg never seems to give off strange mana the way Fal does, but Fal may have a biological defense mechanism that he learned or mutated over his lifetime, which weaponizes it. Or, his body simply has no control over governing his mana pool. My current hypothesis is the Fievegal’s current hypothesis; the derelict egg, as well as other possibly unknown variables, create ‘mana cesspools’, I guess is the best way to describe it. They concentrate mana intensely enough that it can cause monsters.”
“And, strange mana is even more potent, right?” asks Hekate.
“Yes. All the more reason to do everything we can to be able to capture Fal’s mana as quickly as possible and prevent exposing multiple people to it. At least until he gains some control over his magical energy.” Daniel climbs to his feet carefully, and everyone joins him. “If living things in this world work as converters for raw mana from Zenkon itself and convert it into refined mana as we normally know it, then a feldrok capable of converting it further into strange mana and even sorceranium is an even more deep cut into ‘refinement’. Whenever he’s…” Daniel sighs, seeming to know no other way to describe it, “throwing a tantrum, he may be more actively pulling in mana from the world around him, concentrating it, and then spewing it out, like heat from a flame. It explains why he can sustain it for so long without draining himself.”
Everyone absorbs the information seriously, but Sundenelle decides to lighten the mood a little. She looks directly at Hekate, asking, “Are you certain you wish to have Daniel, your Greatness? It seems feldrok children are quite the unique challenge.”
She gets the rise she wanted, since Hekate immediately folds her ears back with a devious and competitive smirk. “I will have three times as many as you, your Imperial Majesty, just because I can. And, because Daniel is making me wait, I’ll be even stronger than I am now, so of course I’ll be able to handle it! And,
to Fal, we’ll know all of the stumbling blocks.” She proudly stands up as straight and tall as she can, and the only reason she ‘matches’ Sundenelle’s height is from the tips of her tall ears as she triumphantly and defiantly stares up at the human Empress.
Sundenelle smiles, and Daniel adds, “One more thing. Sundenelle, if you would, I’d like you to handle or delegate as you see fit getting in touch with manufacturing to see if we can get some teething toys made for Fal. We might eventually need them for the other children as well.”
“I’ll see to it personally, as long as you don’t mind me focusing on getting the Empire and Fievegal’s united front against the fire moving first.”
“Of course,” replies Daniel.
“With your permission, your Graces, I’ll handle it,” states Byleathea.
“Granted,” replies Hekate, and Daniel nods in agreement with his fluffy-tailed companion.
“Agreed. I’ll make sure some sketches get to you before I fly out. Main thing is the chewing part needs to be durable, non-toxic, and not break apart so that he doesn’t choke. The design should make sense when you see it.”
She nods, and the group leaves the altar-room to find soldiers armored in lead prepared to try and assist. They are relieved, in spite of the preparatory work, since everyone is safe and Fal is calmed down.
Daniel is wearing down fast, and the pile of problems hasn’t gone down by any meaningful amount.
Sundenelle can sympathize, since she felt like someone dropped a basket of boulders onto her shoulders when she became Empress, and every now and then a boulder is added, while rarely does it ever feel like any come out of the basket.
Such is the curse of power, and often the greatest burden for those least willing but most fit to rule.
Sundenelle doesn’t know if she or Daniel are the most fit, since they do both take advantage of their power in various ways, but it also feels plenty burdensome when it comes time for work.
As it stands, they’ll just have to keep chipping away at their boulders one at a time.
***