Ukila Local Time: Late night. (January 14, 1512)

We don’t stay in the castle much longer, and I manually destabilize it as we’re leaving, trying to get it to break down slowly. Which I fail at, causing the mountain-sized castle of lighting to break apart in an impressive display of violence.

Also known as an explosion.

One might think I was the one who didn’t like water with the amount of ocean that’s caught in the blast. Smoulder’s approval is almost as strong as my embarrassment. Midnight is as amused as Uthica, judging by how his own huffing matches her laughter.

Definitely glad I didn’t try to experiment with it. And it’s enough to make me hesitate. Maybe I’ll start with inanimate objects instead of insanely complicated spell workings bound to thousands of points of mana.

Instead, we fly south, towards the next objective as I peek in on the Eldinsworn. It seems their team’s finally given up on tracking us, and instead they’re holding drills outside. There are several of their fliers in the background, and thanks to the commands, I’m able to expand my lexicon even further.

At this rate, I’ll be able to hold a poor conversation with them by the time we finish Uthica’s sixth objective.

When we get close to the fifth, we decide to rest for the day. The constant teleporting would make keeping track of when we slept last difficult if not for our Systems. And my unerring sense of time.

We set up camp in an abandoned temple overgrown by jungle a short distance from the fifth beast swarm summoning, the smell of breakfast filling our camp. Redstone and Midnight are huffing at each other outside, once more wrestling to settle a disagreement. Smoulder is refereeing, as though it were a game of Desh’mersa.

While they’re doing that, I scour the nearby jungle for fruit, using my detailed scan to expand our diet. Cause as much as I enjoy a good kebab or steak, I’m missing fruits and veggies. Uthica’s even using the juice as an additive for her mostly meat dinner.

“To be clear, I’m not complaining,” Uthica says, pulling a piece of meat off her kebob before popping it into her mouth.

“No, you’re right. Your quest still feels too easy. But then again, how many monsters have we killed now? Must by in the tens of thousands?”

“Do we count the swarms as individuals? Because then I believe it would be in the millions,” Uthica says, holding up her fingers less than a centimeter apart.

Shuddering, I shake my head, setting my suddenly unappetizing fruit to the side. “No. Anything smaller than my finger doesn’t count.”

“Hmm. Then I’d guess it’s closer to a hundred thousand.”

We sit there for a few seconds in silence.

“That’s a lot,” I say.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Uthica agrees. “Perhaps we are just particularly suited for this quest.”

“Or the fact we’re able to absorb mana from food has been making it easier.”

Uthica holds up the last piece of meat on her kebob, picking it off with a smile. “That is most certainly a factor in our favour.”

The fifth objective is a ruined colosseum that shares the same architectural style as the temple, simple stone block sealed together with mortar that’s turned pale with age. The possible historical significance does mean that we delay the activation, erecting protective walls that should funnel the beast wave towards a kill zone. Assuming that any survive Lesser Cataclysm.

The nature of the defence means no experiments for the time being. However, the fifth beast-swarm is no more challenging than the prior four. In fact, there are less monsters than the last three.

As Smoulder smacks down the last flying whale-snake, a soft buzzing fills the air.

A moment later several K’tharn appear in a flash of yellow light, standing in a tight circle. These clearly aren’t the Eldinsworn we’ve encountered so far, their outfits a tight fit with a mottled green pattern much like earth’s military uniforms. Though these are designed to match the patterns of the jungle around us. Our uninvited guests are also wielding rifles, though the design is completely different from the ones carried by the Eldinsworn.

They spot us immediately, calling out in Letonga’s language.

It’s not a typical greeting, at least from what I’ve learned. Closer to a warning to their fellow squad members if I’m not mistaken.

Also, what is it with the people on this planet? Do they all travel around in mobile kill-squads.

I respond to them with what is basically the local equivalent of hi. At least, I’m hoping it is.

My response causes the one that called out to spit a sentence at me that I’m barely able to catch. Something about crossing into… something. Suppose I should’ve put a bit more effort into learning the language.

Shaking my head, I call out with the only line I’m mostly certain of, “Me no speak Ulthean.”

Unfortunately, instead of calming them, my words have the opposite effect. Rifles are raised, half of them pointed in our direction while the rest start scanning the sky.

“What did you say?” Uthica hisses, though I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

“I thought I told them I don’t speak their language,” I inform her as Smoulder hops up from where she was desecrating a defeated bird-thing.

The soldier who first called up to us lowers their rifle. Then she elbows one of the soldiers next to her, telling her something while laughing. The other soldier joins in the laughter.

“I feel like they’re laughing at us,” I say to Uthica.

“Hmm. Seems that way.”

“They do know we’re both queens, right?”

“Why would they know that?” Uthica asks.

“I don’t know. It just feels like they should.”

“What exactly would mark us as queens?”

“Other than our majestic selves, Redstone and Midnight and the thousands of dead monsters surrounding us?” I try, gesturing at the frankly ludicrous number of monster corpses.

“Yes. Other than those.”

“Uh. My throne?”

“What throne?” Uthica asks, raising her eyebrow and giving the area a cursory look.

“Smoulder?”

“Ah yes. The mana-hare who they’ve seen urinating on half of the monsters is definitely a sign of our esteemed status.”

Glancing down at my outfit, I try to think of something else. But I shrug instead, giving up. “I guess you’re right. There’s not much that would mark us as queens.”

“Ah. You did miss one thing,” Uthica objects, raising a single finger.

“Oh? What did I forget?”

“We have presence.” And in that moment Uthica imposes her attention on the laughing K’tharn. Who stop laughing as her gaze rests on them. I study her posture. It’s imposing, but I can’t do the four hands on my hips thing. Hell, I can only do one fleshy hand on my hip.

Yet it’s not the pose itself. It’s her bearing. The assurance.

And she’s right. It’s about presence. I join my presence to hers, staring down at the gathered squad, watching a shiver pass through them as I survey them with my sole remaining eye.

Fun!

The shiver turns into a full body shudder in the case of one squad member when Midnight and Redstone stand up behind us. Ah, good ol’ dragon-fear.

The one who’d started the laughter clears her throat, glancing at her companions before returning her attention to us. “Apologies, your majesterials.”

Did she just… in Vausian too. But… what’s a majesterial? Wait, that means the jerk heard our entire conversation. Before I can curse out her manners, Uthica responds, “I believe there’s been some misunderstanding. We are not the warrior queens of old.”

The soldier looks at all the monster corpses scattered across the hill, then to Midnight and Redstone behind us crossing over me before finally returning to Uthica. “If you say so… your majesties?” she tries. I can’t help but note that the poor squad member behind her looks ready to turn and run as their leader ends the sentence in a questioning tone.

Maybe we should dial down the displeased queen vibes a smidge.

“You may address me as Lore-Queen Uthica. And this is my companion Arch-Queen Pandora,” Uthica states, not dialing back one iota.

Also, Arch-queen, huh? That’s kinda cool. I shall humbly accept the upgrade.

“As you wish Lore-Queen Uthica. May I ask-” she turns away, exchanging words rapidly in their language with one of her companions. “May I ask why two Akilo queens have come to Mestril.” She gets an elbow from that same companion, then adds. “And why the Arch-Queen Pandora is wearing the robes of the Eldinsworn.”

Knew I should’ve created replacements for the rest of my missing clothes instead of staying in Eldinsworn swag.

Uthica scans the gathered soldiers, several of whom are still watching the sky. Then she turns to me, and with obvious deliberation asks, “Shall we allow them to take us to their leaders. I do not believe they are qualified to address us directly.”

I consider Uthica’s question.

Not loving the idea of dealing with politicians. But it could be a great learning experience. On the other hand, we’re close to completing Uthica’s quest.

Doing my best Uthica impression, I reply, “Perhaps we could arrange to visit once we’ve completed our original task. These ones have extended us some courtesy, but our quest is important.”

After gifting me with a tiny twitch of her lips, Uthica turns back to the soldier, who clearly heard ever word, if I’m reading the flicking of her ears correctly. “Arch-Queen Pandora is correct. We dare not take the time to meet your superiors. So, in answer to your questions. I’m here to cleanse Ukila of mutant mana-beasts. And Arch-Queen Pandora fancied the Eldinsworn’s robes. So, she wears them.”

The soldier does some apologizing, then produces a device that looks similar to a radio except attached to a large backpack. Uthica studies it with interest as the soldier explains how to use it to contact them when we’re finished with our business. When Uthica stores the radio in the pouch on her waist, several of the watching K’tharn start babbling.

At this point, Uthica and I give formal goodbyes, then fly away, going the opposite direction of her next objective. Once we’re out of sight, we land amongst a grove of trees with a break that allows me to teleport us to a distant ridge.

“Well, that was fun,” Uthica states, stretching her arms out in all directions, flexing her hands.

“Interesting, at least,” I acknowledge, disabling my Channelled Facet before making the next jump, so we’ll be ready if anything demands it.

The evening sun forces me to modify my Twilight-enhanced vision and reminds me I need to upgrade the spell to make such adjustments automatically. Adding it to my list, I pick a spot located next to a barren mountain for our next teleport.

Uthica pushes a frond to the side, gazing back in the direction we came from. “I don’t get to interact with people who aren’t part of the Aetherium who treat me with respect very often these days. The M’tari are… well, the M’tari. And there hasn’t been any other real power on Akilo in over a decade.”

Halting my spell, I ask, “Did you want to visit?”

Uthica smiles, the frond rustling as she releases it. “Hmm. No. I need to complete my quest first. Then… maybe. It would be good to establish diplomatic ties, if I’m able. Trade with another planet would surely be worth a great deal to my people.”

“Yeah, probably,” I agree. I didn’t even think about trade. Is that something I’m going to have to set up when I get back? Or does that take care of itself. I’ll need to ask Wyonna. And Tipan.

I miss Rufka.

The thought hits me like a punch in the gut. I try not to think of the others. Most days, I tell myself that if everything works out, they won’t even notice I’m gone. I mean, what’s the point of time-travel if you can’t take the time to grow and learn and then return to when you left better than ever without missing anything important?

It’s great having Smoulder back. And Uthica’s a great companion. And mentor. I’ve learned a lot from her in the last week.

But I still miss Rufka.

A reminder to ask about trade goes on my mental list. Along with another note to remind Rufka of how awesome she is. There are a lot of those.

Shaking my head, I teleport us to the distant ridge.

But when we arrive, I discover it’s not just another distant ridge.

Standing on the sloped roof of a row of townhouses, I gaze out over an entire city carved into the side of the barren mountainside. The streets are full of life, bustling with enough activity to make New York feel slow.

Or so I assume. Never actually been. Maybe I can visit when we get back to Earth. Travel’d be cheap.

With a tap on my shoulder, Uthica directs my attention to a nearby tower. The sentinels standing at the top wear the familiar uniform of the soldiers we were just talking to. I nod as she mumbles, “I suppose we can visit them now.”

I nod in response. It seems the semi-invisible city needs to upgrade its anti-teleportation wards.

After our visit, of course.