==[[ System Interlude by Naron ]]==

A History of the Kingdom of Adriang, written by Cralev Sildan, in her 50th year.

Before I get into more of the important details of the middle-period of Adriang, I must first talk about something that not too many people have much knowledge about, that being wishes. Most people often have stories attached to that utterly powerful concept, which are often told amongst their culture. Someone prays hard enough, or perhaps, gotten such a big important quest reward, that they've received the opportunity to have and use one. However, not all is as it seems.

Wishes are, in fact, powerful. They can do almost anything with your time here on Sel. You can get any amount of title, monetary value, or even change an event from the past. With wishes all are possible. Except that's usually, not how it goes. You are projecting what you've heard onto a concept which doesn't exist. Sure, wishes are real, but they are often not as powerful as some people say.

When you first get a wish, you are also given an amount it can wish for. No matter what, they always have a hard limit. The exact cost it takes for a wish to fully deplete, is variable. More often than not, wishes accomplish the same task in different ways for different people. For example, if someone wishes that they would have received the title of [Lord], the wish can do anything it wants to make that occur. Trial by combat, or even them having the title for their entire lives. However, wishes can only do one thing with the amount of power they originally possess, so if someone would have wished for, let's say, a quill, then, depending on the power of the wish, the quill could've been hand-stakingly crafted out of thin air, or taken from across the world to get to their hands. It all depends on the amount of power the wish has.

What does this have to do with the history of Adriang, you may ask? Well, the whole middle period of the kingdom was, essentially a major turning point in its history. Originally, that was when the kingdom would've fallen. That was when the Bast would've taken over the corruption of the state at the time. However, because of the third prince, Galendor, that didn't happen. You see, somehow, he obtained a wish. And he wished that the fall of his kingdom had never happened. You might think that this could happen more times than we can count, but unfortunately, or rather fortunately, this is the only case where the wisher remembers making the wish. He, of course, made a little autobiography early in his life, to better get the details of what exactly happened to cause his kingdom's downfall before he lost it to time and memory, but we can know from context clues based on that work, as well as, some gods vouching for this mythical other time period occurring.

Originally, there were 12 royal births, those having nine princes, and three princesses. Galendor was supposed to be the ninth. Now, there are only 5 royals, that being three princes, and two princesses. Along with an assortment of other issues, like the mis-gendered daughter of a local merchant noble, that was supposed to be a son, as well as, the case of an entire cabal of gangs in the lower slums that directly rebelled during the civil war, to have been brought up the path of the straight and narrow, and making a name for themselves in various business ventures.

Now, we will not be going into the alternative history that did indeed take place. If you want that, I would try looking into that prince's autobiography, which the title I have pinned in the glossary near the back of the book. We will though, of course, have to keep in mind the decisions that the third prince made in his rise to power, due to his experiences in that time period, as well as, the fact he was brought back to being a 3-year old child due to his wish, with all of the status he had in that alternate time period. Assumedly, this was because that was when the events all started to unfold into the destruction of the kingdom, but we can not, and could not, know. Gods aren't really talkative about wishes, after all.

So, keeping that in mind, as we head into his first appearance in court, we can gleam that----

==[[ ]]==

"Sir! There's smoke on the horizon!" Instantly, Feldur stood up from his chair. He glanced away from the dining room table towards the man who stepped through the curtain archway. He couldn't quite tell who it was at first, but the beard coming from underneath the helmet made the issue very clear.

"Jukrom, is that all? Is you coming in here, disturbing the dinner I'm having, worth it?" He angrily strode towards the shivering man. Jukrom was right to be scared though. Feldur was an elf, with an [Earth] affinity, so he could accidentally kill someone if he squeezed someone's throat too hard. There was also the fact that he had let down his [Lord] many a time before. It was under his jurisdiction that the desert tower had fallen while the [Lord] was dealing with upper nobility closer to the country's center. It was him that had said yes towards the one person whose experiment he should not have approved. It was only through his sister's graces that he was able to continue being employed. However, as time went on, the job was not a matter of income, but a matter of life and death. His [Lord] had become severely dangerous over the years hence. He couldn't exactly tell what had caused it, but he was sure it had to deal with his routine visits towards the church. Each time he seemed to only get more and more angry.

"I just thought you'd want to know that it's all coming from the desert." Jukrom let out quickly. His words put an immediate stop to Feldur's coming rant. The fireF, in and of itself, wasn't necessarily something to be concerned about. Many people often camped outside the city walls and waited to head inside, either to sell wares, sight see, anything they might want to do really, especially if they were to make sure no [Bandits] had taken anything in their travels. There were to even touch upon the underground markets held by Erranid's main lord, Feldur himself, located beneath the main hold. However, no one came along the desert path, not since he had abandoned his outpost. That could only mean one of three things.

"Did you see signs of monsters on the road coming?" The little bast could only shake his head as he stared up at the cragged face of his boss, the wrinkles of his face seemingly being lined in steadily growing iron.

"No sir. No one on the towers did either, but there was too much smoke in the air. It was like a dark cloud growing." This made Feldur frown. It wasn't uncommon for fire monsters to be born occasionally in the desert, that was where that type of affinity were to most naturally occur besides, of course, lava mountains whether active or dead. However, a plume of smoke made him wary. If they hadn't seen any monsters coming now, that most likely meant it was a bigger monster than the usual 4 [meter] tall ones, or perhaps a group that were actively working together. Feldur also connected another thought in his head. It could've been that building, but it had been too long now. Anything that might've reacted poorly with anything else, should've had its mana dissipated by now. Or it could've been something else. Something that was held underneath the tower. He wasn't sure whether or not it was still alive, but he figured if no one had managed to kill it before they left or control it towards the stable below his hold, it had either starved of emotion or it was sick of being stuck under there. Either way, he knew he had to do something.

"Prepare our men. Have them assemble on the walls. I feel like something big is coming." Feldur spoke towards the bast, eyeing him to make sure he actively listened to his command. Jakrom held up a paw in salute before going back through the curtains. Feldur sighed as he looked back towards his dining table. There, sitting atop it, was a particularly rare delicacy he hadn't had in weeks. It's tail had been cut off, of course. That was the most delicious part of the thing, at least in Feldur's opinion. Unfortunately, his [chef] might have to cast some ice magic to better keep this chilled.

"Jaloo! Get some ice mages! I'm going to have to postpone dinner!!" His shout echoed across the room, as a door opened up on the other side of the room, revealing a rather young ev, one who had only barely delved into their natural affinity.

"Alright sir! Anything else?" Feldur thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. That's it...Wait! No. Prepare me some of that chocolate wine I've been saving. I think after we beat back the beast, I might celebrate my 10 years here." The ev nodded its slightly leafy head as it headed back in towards the kitchen, while yelling for ice. Feldur chuckled. He always liked his subordinates. Especially the [chefs]. They catered to his specific...diet particularly well. As he headed towards the curtained exit, he stared back at the table. He thought to himself he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He went, stuffed his mouth with a couple fingers of the dead kobolt, and left. As he crunched through the bone and scale, his legs took him through the hallway towards the stairway up.

'Why did I have to build all this below ground?', he thought to himself. 'It's not like anyone actually cares what I do out here.' He passed by a couple doorways, with some containing the tests he had done in the Tower, while others contained successful tests. He could tell which were successful, based on the sounds they made in their prison. Those that were silent had succeeded. Those that hadn't, were still screaming.

'Well...I suppose it was to keep the illusion of control. If noone can see my...breakdowns and particular habits, the people above would not want to...do something unfavorable. Even if I hold power over their lives, there's still a chance that they might manage to end mine.' He nodded to himself, glad in his conclusions. He reminisced about his past actions as lord as he headed up the worn stone stairway, with moss covering some of the steps, offering a natural spring into his step as he headed upwards. He could still remember his first task as a [Lord] when his father had died. Of course, he attacked it incessantly as much as any other newborn [Lord] would, but it was simply impossible. He had made some progress, but the talented people he had hired had all died in the fire. No one would be willing to work for him with all that blood upon his conscience. He had, of course, been given other tasks by the central governance, but those paled in importance and simple reach. If he had accomplished his first task, he would've definitely been promoted towards the frontlines against the Victrona Empire. There wouldn't have been any war though. What kind of empire would fight for useless territory, especially within the gray zones that the two countries shared? However, his concentration upon the past was for naught, as he noticed the symbol he had left behind, etched into the stone.

Without any prior warning, it looked like he went to immediately ram his head into the leftmost wall, but as his head met the stonework, the reality of the situation came to light. He had headed off into an illusioned wall. His underground network headed throughout all the important buildings within the city he was lord of. Thankfully, he had remembered the symbols correctly, as he was worried he had mixed up the symbols for north and south again. He walked quickly before he noticed yet another symbol, that being a sigil of the baracks. He headed rightwards from the lamp-lit corridor down the dim path, as the next wall came in front of him. He pressed his hand against the side into a groove fitted towards his senses and powers, and it slid open for him, revealing a dimly lit storage closet. He walked through, sealed off the entrance behind him, and sent out his senses.

When he received nothing of notice in either direction of the hallway outwards, he stepped through the closet door and headed towards the walls, passing through corridors, before reaching the training square. He had to reach the walls to give a rousing speech, of course, but there was something he had to do first. That was to actually see the darkness for himself. He steadied himself, before he jumped off the cobble towards the highest tower in his land. As the wind whipped past his face, cutting grooves along his rocky eyes, he prepared his legs to receive such a hard landing. Getting up, was easy for him, but falling down, was insanely harder without breaking anything.

As he fell towards the tower's top, he cast [Absorption] and [Slow] until he hit his target. Thankfully, for him, he had managed to cast enough instances to not damage the tower in his fast descent. There was no one else manning these particular ramparts too, so no damage was done to any of his men. Unfortunately, now that the wind was out of his face, he could finally clearly see why his commander had come down in such a rush.

There, seemingly sitting upon the horizon, meeting the meadows leading to the desert sands, was smoke as pitch black as the night. Seeing it...made him remember something from a long time ago.

"So...you're still alive Credonz. Well...sorry I put off your execution so long. On the bright side, your meat will definitely taste better now that its aged. Who knows, maybe goddess Belun will finally give me that wish I need, once I eat you."

=/|=

"Hey Marwall? Is a dark cloud usually considered bad around here?"

'Yes. Yes it is.'