“Where is your brother? I sent for him ages ago.” The King said to his daughter Alia.

“Probably trying to sneak a drink in that excuse for a tavern the Startemplars have set up.” She replied while idly flipping the page of an old leather-bound book. The book was about a small nation of cannibalistic Elves that was brought to Salae’s attention nearly a century ago. It described Alia’s father’s decision making in the matter as the Elven nation was argued to be destroyed by many of his peers.

The nation was small, only a few dozen members, but each member was sacred in the eyes of the God of Rebirth, Ssawp. While the citizens killed and ate any unfortunate soul that happened to be marooned on their white sandy beaches, nothing could be done. The island was under the protection of one of the Three, meaning any attack would be met with the fervor of a Divine entity. The book outlined the King’s decisions spanning over many decades until a plan was officially enacted. A small party of powerful individuals were ordered to live within the island, making peace and coercing the citizens to stop their tradition of cannibalism. It did not work, and the team was killed and eaten. The title of the book was ‘Nonperformance of a Monarchy: Volume four’.

“You never did tell me how you ended the conflict with the Nation of Fenten.” Alia said.

The King made a tired sigh, one that conveyed himself as being uncomfortable. “I didn’t. After the failed attempted to retain an [Ambassador], Salae put up defenses around the entire island. Our people could no longer accidentally enter their lands. But eventually the entire Nation of Fenten died out. No one is sure why, most likely something to do with their God.”

“Rebirth and Change, the most ambiguous of the Three.”

“Indeed… I’m glad you are finding such a book interesting. I personally do not appreciate the tone but studying the failing of leadership is a great way to bolster future leaders.”

“You think I will be a leader?”

“The way your brother is heading, yes.” The King stood, venturing to the door of his tent. It was large and spacious, no larger than his personal bedroom, but lacking the same furnishing thus creating the illusion of more room. His arrival to the Startemplars’ camping ground was met with open arms. The Centauri tribe was one of his favorites, even though in recent years he had seen a decline in their socialness. Once they were prominent in the Plains, but after multiple suicides from their leadership, the tribe was in a decline. The King hoped volunteering to host the Coalition was their way of saying they were looking to take back their rightful spot.

Peering through the door flap, the King looked out into an open camp. Centaurs ran to and from, moving boxes and setting up tents. It was night, and a few centuries were seen stalking the perimeter, looking for hostile beasts or monsters. It was cool and dry, something the King was enjoying as it was not the normal warm moist weather Salae was known for. Two [Royal Guardsmen] were stationed on either side of the door, watching for hidden threats. The King always admired his personal bodyguards for their professionalism. Even in a foreign land, they acted with grace and poise, something he could not say the same for his son.

“Does this place even have a tavern?” Tobyn Salae asked his daughter after returning to his lacy seat.

“Yes, if you do not mind the smell of horse dung.”

Tobyn snorted, “I wish Eden would take responsibility for his position. His time as [King] is drawing near.”

“Please do not speak like that, you are in perfect health.” Alia replied, closing her book with a snap.

“Healer Phlin says differently. Fifty more years he says I have left. Fifty more, thirty of those will be bedridden.”

“Father, I did not know. Is there-“

The King held up a tired wrinkled hand. “No, there is not. I am old. Very old. Your mother may have a few years longer than I, but she is also quite old. We are in our final march, but it was expected. After all, this is not a sudden acknowledgment. We have been old for some time now.”

“A potion or Elixir? Something to fight off Peneil? Anything?” Alia’s voice quivered for a moment.

“No and stop with the silly theatrics. We both know you are smart enough to have realized such things.”

“You know me quite well, father.” Alia’s scared expression turned sly.

“Yes, I know you and Eden very well, but my other children not so much.” Tobyn laid back, his feet finding surface on a propped-up pillow. “Did you know Anja is a [Fire Mage] of some sort? I had no idea…”

“Yes, her second class, [Flame Whisperer] if I recall correctly. An Epic level class, might I add.”

“See, that right there is my problem. I was too focused on you, Eden, and all of Salae to even notice amazing things happening inside the very castle I lived in…”

Alia sighed loudly and with exaggerated movements, “Father, speak plainly, I am too tired to read between the lines.”

“I am worried about Eden. I fear he neither wants nor is able to claim the throne. Between the two of you, I would choose you. But it is his birthright as eldest.”

“Yes, I gathered as much, what else?” Alia gestured to speed up.

“I-I want you to help me in his training. Become his teacher, alongside your mother and I, as well as the [Scholars] we have set up for him back in the castle.”

“Fine. But that’s not it, is it?”

The King shifted from his prone position to a slouched hunched over seated position. The posture made the [King] small, as if he was a child once again. “I want you to take his birthright if he does not measure up to the task.”

“You want me to become heiress? Over Eden, the crowned prince? You do know what that implies, right?”

“I very well know.” The King hissed. “But I am thinking about the future of Salae. You were not born when Vast Empire was at their height. The terror the kingdom felt, the lives lost, the dread of every morning sunrise… The Empire is back, and we need someone strong to lead, not a drunkard that spends his money on cheap wine to fill his belly and cheap women to fill his bed. We need someone who studies the failures of Salae, and someone with enough brains to see the bigger picture. We need someone like you…”

“And you do not think Eden is such a person?” Alia whispered.

“No. Not yet at least. I gave the boy one single, simple rule, no alcohol while at the Coalition. And what does he do the first night we are here?”

“Father… I don’t know what to say…”

The King locked eyes with his daughter. “Do not say anything. We still have time for Eden to come around, I do not think you to be a [Saboteur], so I ask you to be my confidant. When I die, I want you to decide if he is ready. I will most likely not be within the right state of mind… to decide before my death…”

“I-I understand. But father, why do you not think me to be a [Saboteur]?”

“When Bella went missing, do you remember what you said to me?” Tobyn asked, receiving a soft head shake from his eldest daughter. “You said that ‘the kingdom does not need a sixth in line princess, but a King needs all of his daughters.’ In a single sentence you expelled my feeling about Bella’s situation. I am a mortal man. A broken and flawed man. I have one brother who I love dearly, a wife, who I love more than anything, and six children, four of which I know hardly anything about. The kingdom comes before all of them, that is true, but a King does not. I do not… In that single sentence you proved to me that you understand the importance of the bigger picture, but you also showed me the need for loved ones. Salae does not need a sixth in line, but a King needs all of the support he can get.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I’m saying that you know the difference between Salae and family. If push came to shove, you would prioritize the kingdom. It’s a harsh truth to be told and one that will cause many hardships down the line, but it is a quality a [Monarch] needs.”

Alia didn’t say anything to continue the conversation and a few minutes later, Eden arrived with a very tired looking guard behind him. The King started rattling off information the crowned prince needed to understand the politics behind the Coalition. Who the leaders were, how they came into power, why they are important. But Eden wasn’t truly listening, in fact he was forcing himself to hide his disgust. He had heard all of his father’s and sister’s conversation. He had heard his father’s fears and his sister’s praise. He was a laughingstock, someone that could be assassinated by his very own sister if he did not rise to the occasion.

“[Arch Mage] Veline of Lesterwood is a name you should remember. She…” The King continued, but Eden had to look away. He couldn’t focus on anything. Guilt, anger, and embarrassment bubbled in his stomach, bulging at his temper. He wanted to yell, he wanted to hide. He wanted to defend himself, but most importantly, he wanted to prove them wrong. He swallowed his pride and stood, silencing his father’s lesson.

“Wha-“

“Just getting some paper for notes.” Eden said, shocking his family members.

Tobyn and Alia shared a surprised look. Eden stifled a deep frown; one he hid before returning to his seat.

The residents of the centralized mansion of Lesterwood, minus Vel, stood in the training hall. Before them was a flickering rounded diamond of manipulated space that twisted reality and bent light. A small rock flew through the air, coming into contact with the anomaly before appearing across the room by a second portal. A hushed silence overcame the room as each resident slowly came to their own conclusions. The less magically inclined thought how movement between areas could be made simple with such a spell. The more militaristic of the residents thought through battle strategy. The single master of magic watched with heightened senses trying to find trace problems with the spell, while trying not to get his hopes up about the ramifications of such a unique ability. Lastly, a lone Elemental bond thought through matters only he and his partner understood, and how portals could affect the world.

Max, the caster of the subject matter, walked slowly through the affected area, appearing harmlessly at the other end. Likewise, Emi appeared moments later, with her the water she used to hover in mid-air. Next was a potted plant, slabs of meat, and piles of nearby soil. All entered and exited the portal without a hitch, thus causing Max to speak.

“Everything can go through the portal, even living matter. But for some reason, captain Ism wasn’t able to. The Spell Book is telling me others should be able to enter, but in practice…”

“Ism said he was cold.” Emi added.

“Do either of you feel cold when you enter?” Bishop asked.

“No.” “Nope” They both said at the same time.

“Interesting… I have an idea, let me do some research and get back to you.”

“Thank you, Bishop.”

The scaly leathery Drake waved his apprentice off, stepping closer to the portal. As he neared, he felt the cold. It was unlike normal cold, which started on one’s skin and instead radiated outwards from inside. His mana core was shivering he realized, something he had never experienced before. Small streaks of space bent around Bishop’s wafting arm as he disrupted the whole in reality, acting as if nothing was wrong with the space. Small zaps of electricity sparked along his fingertips, in hopes of some sort of reaction, but the portal remained unimpeded and unharmed.

“Very interesting spell…” Bishop said to no one in particular.

Only Belopi stood near him, as the others had just left for their various duties. “If this spell worked as intended, could you imagine the money Max could make and the people he could help? Esmel’s dome would be nothing but an annoyance and places far from the Gate Systems could potentially have resources from anywhere on Nava.”

“It makes you wonder though…”

“Wonder what, hun?”

“Hun?” Bishop chuckled. “That beats Bishy, at least… It makes me wonder just who made the spell, especially since it was turned into a Spell Book.”

“Someone strong.” Belopi whispered in realization. Her eyes turned to the portals with a newfound look.

Morning was always busy in Lesterwood. Between the markets and shops, the city had a daily rush to setup and start selling before the contractors began their work for the day. Vocen drawn wagons flooded the streets this particular morning as a fresh, and large, shipment of Picidilly Pumpkins were brought in from Salae. A famous and easy to make warm drink was being sold in almost any stall, adding to the morning crowd. The Drink was dark red orange in color and had a sweet almost buttery taste, despite not actually having butter within the mixture. It was brewed in large vats or cauldrons and stewed for hours before it thickened to a custard like consistency.

[Food Venders] weren’t the only ones to see the positive effects of the pumpkins. [Street Performers] bundled up for the morning cold and played flutes which sang bright beautiful songs into the air. Others danced, urging the bystanders to join and in turn drop coins into a small out-of-place bucket. Healers stood at a small tent, speaking to anyone who passed by. Since the dawn of the Age of Healing, the Church of Healing has seen record numbers for their services and tutelage. Having a stall out in the middle of the market only helped those numbers. A trio of young men, no older than eight or nine, talked with a bearded Healer about schooling and residency after class selection. Subuntu’s practices and morals were discussed as well, but by then the kids were already hooked.

A woman shook a hand-held bell, asking for donations for the guards up-in-coming goblin raid. She accepted coin, weapons, travel rations, potions, anything really. As long as she felt she could use an item as a persuasion tool for adventurers or mages, she accepted. A small sign-up sheet was neatly folded in her pocket, it was nearly blank, but the woman knew that a similar sheet hung up in the Guilds would be nearing capacity soon.

A low bang sounded from a nearby building, shaking the ground around it and causing many heads to turn. Before anyone deemed the sound to be an attack, a door swung open and a dizzy looking Elf swayed out. Black smoke poured out of his shop, fading into the clear sky without a trace. A few seconds later, a younger Elf found her position next to her elder.

“I told you not to mix Yogeren Leaf and Frensnail Mucus… It causes an explosion!” The older of the two Elves yelled.

“S-sorry master… It won’t happen again…” The younger said.

“It’s alright, you can’t become an [Alchemist] without scorching a few pots.”

The little things in Lesterwood amazed Max. A community so small and homely, but also towering into the thousands. Everyone was connected with simple things such as a pumpkin drink or preparing for a guard raid. Community was rare where Max was from, people tended to keep to themselves or within small private groups. No one cared about each other like they do on Nava, emphasizing the homeliness of Lesterwood. But not all cities were like this, however, Salae was similar to an overpopulated major city from Earth. Someone could be robbed in the streets, and no one would bat an eye. While better, Esmel still had a sense of disconnect.

“Celenia, we’re going to have to miss Intro to Magic today. We have a… Tea party to attend.” Max told the Elf as they neared the Guild.

“A… Tea party? Aren’t you a little old?”

“I’m mainly attending to speak with the host’s centuries old spirit from another Dimension.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s more like it.” Celenia said before her face flushed red like a particularly bad sunburn. “W-would you like to have dinner tonight, just us two? Or us three, Emi-“

“No, go without me.” Emi interrupted, causing the Elf’s face to burn even more.

Max eyed his partner suspiciously. “I’d love to. Any place in mind? How about a fish restaurant?”

Emi’s mouth gaped with betrayal. Picking up on the joke, Celenia continued, “Sure, I know a restaurant that sells all different types in all different styles. Steamed, fried, grilled, spiced, sweet, you name it.”

Emi’s mouth watered thinking of such a holy place. “It’s a shame Emi isn’t coming. I think she’d love it.” Max said.

“Agreed. Maybe next time, as this will just be the two of us…”

Both Max and Celenia’s faces reddened, and they both looked away. “Right, uhhh, we don’t want to be late. I’ll see you later.”

Max scooped up Emi and abruptly teleported away. Ignoring the awkward departure, both the Elf and Human had great smiles. Celenia arrived in the classroom a few minutes later, her mind flooding with emotions. She could hardly stand by the time she reached her seat, nerves turning them into popsicle sticks.