Stairway to Somewhere (Multicross SI?)
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5. Passing Time
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"Hello Sylvos," I nodded to my many-times cousin. He came from the line of Windrunners who descended from Talanas Windrunner's younger brother, so he was extended family. As an elf just passed his first hundredth year, Sylvos stood as a promising magister candidate from a traditionally ranger family—which meant he had little to do with the core family to begin with. "I understand, you have issues to speak to me about?"
Sylvos nodded as he seated himself across from me. He left his hair down below his shoulder blades with a topknot as it was the fashion within Silvermoon City this decade, and he wore a simple red robe trimmed with gold thread embroidery. "I would usually speak to the head of your house, but seeing as your mother is on duty and our patriarch is in attendance at court, you would suffice, Lirath."
I steepled my fingers and leaned back in my chair, with an eyebrow raised. "Oh? And how might I suffice, Sylvos?"
"Do not feel so offended, child. You are young yet, and I know whatever instructions Lireesa left you would not serve you in the long term." My distant relative chuckled to himself with great confidence. He was in line to becoming a magister within the next hundred years, so it was not wrong to say that he was gifted.
"My mother's instructions? I'm not sure I understand," I kept the smile on my face and played the fool.
He ran a hand through his hair as he threw his chin back. "Ah, youth. Really, Lirath, do you honestly believe anyone would accept that you were the one who recruited which ever disgraced master enchanter now in your employ? Lireesa is no merchant… she does not understand business. I know that you are having… difficulties… with getting traders to take your products outside of the village."
Sylvos had been snooping around the village for the past week, so I knew something was up with him to begin with. Only now did I realize that this was what that was all about. I had transitioned to making boutique products, such as enchanted belts that massaged the waist and enchanted bags or drinking flasks that were bigger on the inside, as a way to distance myself from the armaments I was providing Prince Nallorath. His right-hand man, Aertin Brighthand, turned out to be incredibly picky about what I supplied them, but that was another story entirely.
What my distant cousin was after, however, was that I had attempted to organize a caravan from Windrunner Village to Tranquillien. Tranquillien, while being called a village, had been bestowed with a grand mayor by Silvermoon and held around eight times the population of my village, making it a great first market as it was the trading crossroads and bazaar center for the southern most regions of the kingdom.
Most people thought that I had offended the Grand Mayor of Tranquillien by dumping my products into the settlement's market, but that was an oversimplification of what actually happened.
When I first tried to sell my products there, the Grand Mayor had already instilled a tariff on products not from Tranquillien that were of equal quality yet of significantly less cost. It was protectionism for his own village's artisans at the most fundamental. I couldn't begrudge him of this, but I did find that many of the competitors from nearby villages such as Suncrown Village did not pay such a tariff.
And then, I found that while no one actually talked about it, if someone did speak of paying bribes, that was considered taboo and an utter breakage from etiquette. Sure, all the older nobles in their damned 'old boys club' got in on their inner dealings, but anyone who inquired about joining that exclusive club would get ostracized.
Fuck me, right?
By asking if I could also pay the bribe, I found that I had offended two grand mayors and several neighboring lesser nobles. Most of them were just middling mages at best, though two of them were lower graded magisters—one of them being the Grand Mayor of Suncrown Village.
As it turned out, our kingdom was more entangled by this magocratic feudal parliamentarian system that ruled our society than I had originally imagined. Perhaps there was a reason why those who rose from the status of commoner were so proud of themselves after all, but I thought that I wasn't exactly a slouch either, looking at my character sheet…
Lirath Windrunner
Races: Quel'dorei/Nephalem
Class: Wizard (No Specialization), Tier 2
Class: Mage (Conjurer/Illusionist), Tier 3
Profession: Alchemy, Amateur
Profession: Blacksmithing, Amateur
Profession: Enchanting, Expert
Profession: Engineering, Apprentice
Profession: Inscription, Journeyman
Profession: Jewelcrafting, Amateur
Profession: Runeforging, Apprentice
Trait: Divine Intellect (Innate)
Trait: Divine Charisma (Innate)
Trait: Arcane Mastery (Innate)
Trait: Spatial Arcana Specialization
Trait: Interdimensional Industrialist
… ignoring the rather massive list of spells, the racial bonus traits from both races, nuances of skill ratings, and so on. I had already gotten my skill in the native arcane magic of Azeroth to a level higher than my skill with the magic of a wizard from Sanctuary. This might have had left some imbalances in what I was capable of, so I was holding back attempting another interdimensional summoning until I got my wizard abilities higher.
Basically, I had enough power to prove myself to be an adequate mage, probably. To my own estimates, I thought I could pass at least as a mage of moderate standing of Dalaran in Jaina Proudmoore's time. I was nowhere near the capabilities of an archmage, nor was I a capable battlemage, but if I went all out, I could gain some respect and standing within the kingdom. But the problem was that I couldn't show that side of me without many negative consequences.
I didn't want the attention anyway… however, within this society and this kingdom, the only two ways of gaining authority were either through sheer power or through advancement through the established hierarchy. If the first way was out, then if I wanted to start climbing the quel'dorei cursus honorum, then I would have to start from the very bottom.
Rigid governmental hierarchy aside, the social hierarchy within the kingdom went something like this: with the commoners at the lowest, and then merchants, and then the soldiers and rangers who had other career paths and were only levied during war times, and then the common mages who also were artisans or merchants, and then talented mages and professional rangers, and the magisters and nobles. As it were, those who viewed me in a positive light might have perceived me as a noble, but the vast majority of society saw me at best as a common mage who dabbled in trade. It was an unspoken rule, which was unlike how defined Confucian ideals of social hierarchy might have been, for example. There were many court advisors who wrote literature on the topic, but none were officially endorsed.
I liked to think that this was because those in power knew that with a little chaos in the social orders, there would be conflict among us and that made us easier to rule. Or else the magisters would have to start utilizing mind control, as they did every few centuries when discontent rose too high.
And that brought my thoughts back to my own discontent with my distant cousin, who sat before me. I couldn't act tough in front of him, or else my cover would be blown. It would eventually be anyway, but I wasn't ready just yet. So I made like a child, and complained. "Why is it that all of them are against me? Isn't this like making war on our clan, cousin?"
"Do not misinterpret their intentions, young Lirath." Sylvos chuckled to himself, almost as if he were clapping himself on the back. "We are not barbaric like the lesser races, such as the humans. The Quel'dorei understand racial unity—even if we wish it, none will break into open conflict with each other, cousin."
"More like because we have the trolls at our doorstep," I muttered angrily.
He shrugged, "There is that little problem as well, this is true. But Lirath, you should not worry about those matters so much… allow me to be your agent in the other holdings of the kingdom. I will find a market for your wares, do not worry. I can be a great merchant, trust me."
"But why would they be willing to buy from you if they won't be willing to buy directly from me?" I asked, more to indulge in his vanity than to actually assuage any of my own concerns.
"It is a matter of reputation, I'm afraid." Sylvos answered, "I am still in attendance at Falthrien Academy, which lends me the good repute needed for other nobles to trust me. Think about it, Lirath. You are neither using our Patriarch's name nor are you even using your mother's… your own reputation as a recluse is known only sparsely south of the Elrendar, and none at all in the north. People ask which Windrunner are you, even when there are so few of us remaining."
What he meant was that he wanted a cut of the profits, and if he lost goods or if he took a larger share, I would be unable to influence the matter because he would be at that time the only merchant who sold my wares.
But we were cousins, and I found that he did not ask for any exclusivity contract— and perhaps he did not even think of it. In the end, I thought back to the week of my cousin snooping around, and I realized that I didn't have much time left to be unbothered.
More and more people will come, sooner or later.
I sighed and acted as if my facade had been seen through. "Alright, cousin. Let us talk terms."
"I knew you'd see it my way, Lirath," Sylvos radiated satisfaction.
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After some deliberation, I decided to start delegating some of my work to Alleria. In the original timeline, she probably did some of the work herself, or she allowed some of our extended family members to take the brunt of the labor. If I remembered correctly, Alleria had become a ranger and participated in the climax of the Troll Wars which would have occurred in two hundred years' time.
Our kingdom, despite its many strengths, was on a social level at around the development of the late medieval era, while many of our technological understandings stood around the early to middle iron age. Whatever such development and technological lacked was made up by overwhelming magical power, which I supposed was our strength. It made sense, in a way, that if the focus our civilization had been diverted to magical understanding and slowed by the longevity of our people, that the other aspects of society would be lacking.
This meant that literacy levels weren't as great as modern Earth, though they weren't as poor as the abysmal one percent literacy levels that early medieval periods saw in some places of Earth either. I would have thought that Alleria would have been well-educated—and she was—but she didn't like her letters and liked more to focus on ranger stuff, or even something akin to nature magic that more advanced rangers practiced.
So if I wanted to start offloading all the labor, er, delegating to Alleria, I needed to teach her some of the more complex vocabulary, as well as some of the basic geographical and political knowledge that most of the firstborn children of noble houses learned in their youth. Which was what led me to sitting down with my little sister while she wasn't with her etiquette tutor or one of the veterans teaching her more tricks with the bow.
Alleria, on the other hand, had a different impression on the necessity of her learning this type of knowledge. She whined, she draped herself on me, she rolled around on my couch… in short, she threw miniature tantrums, and then quieted down every so often to give me a puppy-eyed look. "Lirath, can't we do something else now? I wanna go tame a unicorn…"
"Alleria… for what it's worth, I am sorry that I haven't been able to spend as much time with you as of late." I knew just demanding her to learn wasn't viable in the long term, and I really did regret it.
"… why are you talking so, so… so mushy now?" She squinted at me suspecting something or another.
I held my hands up in defeat, "It's not that. Well, let's not talk about studies, then. How has Sylvos been treating you?"
"Didn't he leave two days ago?" She blinked. "Is he still skulking around?"
"No, no. He should have been gone two days ago." I thought back to the wagon full of miscellaneous goods I had sent off with him. I didn't bother giving him anything high quality considering that no one would buy goods that were too good without verifying which master artisan made what. If nothing else, Cousin Sylvos was right that no one would think that 'Lirath Windrunner' was some master's name.
"Did you know he was asking around all sorts of questions around the village? He tried calling in favors from the other people he grew up with, and then he tried to scare them, like, like… 'Rawr! If you don't tell me where Lirath's enchanting master is, I'm gonna tell Lireesa on you!' He's so dumb." Alleria gossiped, badly mimicking the pompous, northern accent that Sylvos had.
I gave her a helpless smile. "He is still our family, no matter what, Alleria."
"If he just walked in…" She muttered. Then she patted her chest brimming with confidence, "You can trust me, big brother! I kept him from sneaking into your atelier!"
That wouldn't have worked, not that she knew it. I did have runes and inscriptions, and all sorts of alarms set up around my assembly line. No factory was any good if I couldn't keep my trade secrets from the hands of my rivals, or keep my laborers in line. I reached over and patted her on the head, and after a moment, Alleria leaned in against my hand and hummed softly. "You're a good girl, Alleria. How about this, I'll test you on what you remember from today's lessons. If you get at least eighty percent right, we'll go hunting for a unicorn."
"You promise?" Alleria bounced in her seat, eyes sparkling with delight.
I nodded. "On my name as Windrunner."
She took it as a challenge, "Let's start!"
"Let's start with something easy." I said. "How many legions are there in Silvermoon?"
"That's too easy. There's six!" Alleria huffed.
"List them, then," I replied. "And their numbers."
She counted them off her fingers, "There's the Elfshot with 1200, the Blades with 2000, the Flamestrike with 200, the Armored Saddles with 1000, the Spellbreakers with 200, and… uh… Healers… with 400?"
"The auxiliary legion. They don't just heal, they are also illusionists and support our warriors from behind, and they are only 200. I see you started dozing off around the end there," I smiled.
"It's not my fault that they all have four thousand years of history! It's so boring, who's the captain this decade, who's the quartermaster the next… I could just go jump in a lake!" Alleria pouted.
"Alright, alright, I'm not going to ask you about their histories. It'll bore me to tears too," I agreed. "So who do the Silvermoon Legions serve under?"
My little sister frowned, because this question didn't exactly have a clear answer. I had given her a complicated explanation of this, so it was up to her if she could remember it or infer knowledge from what I told her. "… They serve under the Convocation of Silvermoon, officially?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" I always wanted to say that.
"I'm telling you." Alleria affirmed. "But the legions also serve the king. So they serve the Seven and the king, but they can't go out of the city without the Seven first. The king can stop them, but he can't call on the legions themselves. He can ask the Convocation to vote on it though!"
"Let's talk about the Farstriders. They serve under the king directly unlike the legions, because the legions require the rest of the kingdom to fund their maintenance, whereas the Farstriders do not. Why is that?" I prodded.
"That's because the Farstriders have their own holdings around Elrendar Lake, but even though they report to the king, they serve the king in name only because they're too far away for the king's authority to be absolute. Right? Do I get an extra point for that?" She asked.
I nodded and returned her enthusiastic smile, "Not bad, not bad. So how many are in the Farstriders, and what are they called?"
"There's the Eastern Reserve and the Western Reserve, which train new recruits and they both number in one thousand rangers." She frowned for a moment, "And then the active Farstrider groups are the Second, the Eighth, the Eleventh, and the Twelfth, but they number in five hundred each."
"Ho? You got these right and very quickly too. Not so like the Silvermoon Legions, huh?" I muttered.
"Well, of course. I want to join them, after all." Alleria pouted and kicked her feet against her chair.
"Now, we know that each of the Seven are backed by a powerful family with one thousand warriors under each, but what about the other important aspects of the kingdom, hm?" I knew that she might not know this because it was around this time in the lesson that she started blinking off and looking like she wanted to nap. She even drew a doodle in the corner of her notes, and thought I wouldn't notice. Silly.
Alleria chewed on the tip of her quill for a moment and thought about it. "I… um… There's the magisters? With Grand Magister Belo'vir, they have a total of one thousand mages in their employ… the Reliquary employs two hundred elite mages to protect the Sunwell and our people's important artifacts… and, um…"
"Can't forget about us," I pointed out as she trailed off.
"Ah! Right! The villages!" She nodded, "There's… um… Tranquillien with eight hundred retired adventurers, Fairbreeze with four hundred retired legionaries, and Suncrown with another four hundred retired legionaries."
"… and Windrunner Village?" I chuckled.
"We have two hundred veterans from the Founding Era." She frowned and asked, "Lirath… are we weak?"
"Windrunner Village is sort of out of the way and inconsequential," I hedged.
"That's not what I mean… but I guess we're kind of unimportant, huh." Alleria sighed and sank into her seat. "I guess I thought if Old Man Talanas was so amazing, everyone would know about us. Lirath, do you think there will ever be a day when the whole world will know the name Windrunner?"
"Oh, I don't know. There is always the possibility," I answered. "Why, even if only the two hundred of our village's rangers deployed with, what, the two hundred neophytes living here too, then we could still make an impact on the borderlands."
"Why is that?" Alleria's eyes narrowed again, but in concentration. "That doesn't make any sense… our kingdom has so many, and that's not even taking into account for, uh, what was it you said? Hidden people?"
"Hidden forces," I corrected.
"Hidden forces." She nodded.
I raised a finger and said, "While our people care deeply about racial unity, that isn't to say that we are relaxed around others of our own standing. It is a form of posturing, this utterly feudal, medieval, barbaric practice… but 'looking tough' and 'not seeming weak' are integral parts of politics. In the end, only something like four thousand total elven rangers and mages combined are deployed on the borderlands right now. And that's how it will always be until several lines of defense are broken."
"Does that mean the trolls have to reach our village before the kingdom even thinks they're a problem?" She wondered.
"… It might." I shrugged, but stood. "Now, enough worrying your cute head about that. Come, didn't you say you wanted to tame a unicorn? Let's see if we can track one down today."
Relations
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I spied my little sister sneaking away to the outdoors more and more often over the month after we tamed for her a unicorn filly who was white of body and pink of mane.
Innocent though it was, I worried for her because she took her still immature steed out for strolls while she could not yet ride her. The filly herself didn't very much like me, though I wondered if it was because I tried to feed it arcane energies to… see what would happen. Few creatures on Azeroth were as mutable as elves; looking at ourselves, we could within a single generation become demonic through fel energies or eldritch through void energies. No other creatures were like us.
Truth to be told, I wanted the unicorn to be safe for Alleria. I had already experienced before several times the loss of a beloved family pet. It was no heartbreak that I wished for my little sister to suffer from, though I knew I could not stop her from it considering as a hunter that was something she would be taming pets no matter what.
Despite only being one decade younger than me, Alleria seemed rather clueless to the deeper elements of things happening around her. Considering that in the other timeline, she didn't even know who were the members of the Convocation of Silvermoon (though through no small lacking on the part of game developers, if I were to take that perspective), I thought perhaps this was just an innate part of who she was.
My cousin Sylvos had been sending me many missives on his… business ventures. He thought he could pass my products off as his own, not realizing that his name was not yet a magister's and as elves had such extensive families over the millennia, the family name sold little as well. Then he thought, perhaps selling at just an undercutting price instead of cheaply could bypass the tariffs in place for goods imported from these southern territories, but he ran smack into reality.
No matter how high or low he set the price, his goods were not sourced locally. So no matter what, he would face those taxes.
Looking for alternative vendors—by writing to my ancestor Talanas, for example—yielded better results over time, since we were not of kin, and thus a sort of formality had to be held on both parts. That was more professional, so I found that fine. No matter what, however, I was just too busy to spend much time with my little sister… leading me to often go after her and watch her from afar, in hopes that I would not intrude upon her own adventures. She needed to grow without me, now that I had my hooks within her.
"Oh, Muffintop," Alleria whispered into the ear of her pet unicorn, "I feel like I could just tell you anything."
Muffintop huffed, though not unhappily. She was of a magical nature after a time, thus an intellect greater than lesser beasts could be found behind those sparkling, opal eyes.
But my little sister nuzzled her face into the pink and teal mane, and reminded me of how I enjoyed the scent of her hair after a long day. "I know you're scared of big brother, Muffintop."
The creature neighed in denial, and if a filly could pout, it would have. It had that energy about it.
Alleria giggled, her voice chiming through the winds deliciously and ringing soothingly in my mind. She nudged the unicorn with her shoulder, before taking her paces, "Oh, Muffintop. You don't know… my big brother is everything to me. Big brother is the sweetest big brother in the kingdom, and he is the most handsome in the kingdom, and the kindest… and smartest…"
Muffintop reared to look at Alleria, more expressive than the average steed and showing a disbelief that ignited a slight indignation in me.
Still, I found my own cheeks growing flush—listening to this was embarrassing.
"He wants to help me be good at everything I do. He helped me find you. He is there when I cry, and he is there when I smile. He's there when no one else is." Yet Alleria went on, ignorant of her listeners' emotions, "… he is my hero."
Urk.
Was that guilt I felt?
"Big brother is wonderful… He is wonderful… but…" Alleria trailed off, her eyes growing distant and forlorn. Her tone grew frosty, "But my big brother is a liar."
My breathing hitched and my mouth felt dry.
Did she know…?
How…?
"He lies, Muffintop." She said to her unicorn, who followed her faithfully across the woodlands. Her voice seemed to echo through the foliage and carve themselves into the bark of trees.
My heart pounded, and I paused where I hid. My mind raced and I wondered why she never said anything to me to my face—but I knew the answer already. In the way our power dynamics worked, there was no possibility for her to confront me, to talk to me, to speak out about this emotion.
Did she hate me? Did she fear me?
But why then did she love me?
The greater the love, the greater the hate? I didn't believe that. I wanted none of that. This was my Alleria. This was our fluffy life. I would move earth and sky to keep our happiness isolated from all the evils in the world… and I had tried my best to keep that side of me hidden from her.
"He lies about our being safe." Alleria's long eyelashes fluttered as she muttered. "I see the numbers—every outpost of the Amani Empire holds double of the entire deployed borderlands forces. Sooner or later, our kingdom will be overrun…"
She walked so slowly that it seemed like her body blended into the shadows and became a part of the forest. Yet I held her visible still, and I recovered enough of my mentality to keep shadowing her. "He lies about his future. I talked to the elders—he isn't going to become a magister, or a ranger-general. Those who become Seekers of Wisdom have no future within the kingdom, and they only take the title because they have been defeated by their political rivals. An honorable exile."
"The elders talked about the mage who would be my big brother's master, the one that big brother boasted so much about. He is Kelen the Seeker, and he is… not part of any faction, or any group. Not even the rangers will want big brother after he has finished his apprenticeship," Alleria sighed.
Muffintop seemed to sense her mistress' emotions, and kept herself quiet though ever loyally beside her.
"Big brother lies… he lies about wealth. He is driving himself into debt to start his businesses. The elders are right; where does all of big brother's things come from? He must be paying for it somehow, if not now, then he will be paying much more in the future." Alleria stomped so, her emotions even overriding the training she had in forestwalking. "I see big brother working so late at night, whenever he thinks I'm not looking. The light within his workshop is always on. He is always training, when everyone else sleeps…"
"… big brother is such a liar. He always hurries to look so presentable when he meets me after I am done with the tutors. He always puts on such a smile. He lies about not being tired. He lies about being rich. He lies about being happy, here alone with me. He can be so much more." She sniffled.
Then she turned to her steed, "I hate him for lying to me. I hate me more. I hate that I keep him here… if it wasn't for me, he could become the greatest magister. He could do so much more. He lies, and he smiles, and he acts like everything is alright, when I know that nothing is right about our lives. Our… our love… is… I cannot help loving him…"
"… ah!" Alleria jumped, and I nearly fell from where I was perched, thinking she might have noticed me. But she just turned to Muffintop, "How long have we been wandering the forest? It's almost time for dinner, we should get back!"
I should have been beside her. I should have reached out and embraced her.
I was a coward.
I teleported away.
Faces
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The following year came and went rather abruptly. By the time that the red autumn leaves began to fall once more around Windrunner Village, I found that my relationship with Alleria had inexplicably reached an awkward stage where neither of us spoke our true feelings.
Sure, we still bathed together, and we still slept in the same bed pressed up against each other, and I often held her hand while going on walks, and I pat her head as much as I could, and I still sucked on her ears, but we didn't talk to each other as much as before.
Maybe this was the stage before we could understand each other without speaking. Maybe this was the moment before Alleria left me.
I didn't know! And that uncertainty was killing me inside.
So I threw myself into my other endeavors, while waiting for her to make the first move. Maybe that was the wrong choice, but I couldn't bring myself to find the initiative to take action… not now, at this stage of my life, and cornered as I was now by circumstances.
I was working hard on getting to raising my rank in the Nephalem Wizard up to the third, which was markedly equal in the system's rating as my current skill within arcane magic. As I found, it was not specialization in any single spell that raised my rating higher at this stage but an overall, general knowledge—I had the fundamentals to succeed in all forms of Azerothian arcane magic. So, I needed to learn every spell within the arsenal of the Wizard of Sanctuary.
After I sent Grandfather (though he was several generations more than just a grandfather, that was what I called him) a gold-plated Desert Eagle—as was proper—which had been enchanted with better aim, enhanced durability, and arcane bullet generation, he finally got around to helping me. He found a vendor, but it turned out to be more war armaments sales rather than anything spectacular like selling to consumers.
However, my gold-plated guns soon found their way into the hands of several selective buyers—the Farstriders and the nobles. Both were initially introduced by Grandfather, but Farstriders found utility in my war wares while the nobles of more distant houses seemed to find amusement in the innovation of ranged weaponry, because they were old houses so they didn't have something to prove like younger houses, nor did they need to uphold a manner of snobbery that the central nobles seemed to think was right.
It was steady stream of income in a year-on-year basis, but nothing that belied growth potential because both the Farstriders and the old, distant noble houses were rather stagnant in their behavior. I had contented myself with what I could sell however, since it was still better than nothing and it allowed me to increase the men-at-arms at Windrunner Village by training up a household guard for myself.
At just one hundred elves, this guard was provided with everything except for glory and honors that many elves so desperately craved. Furthermore, their contracts lasted for one thousand years, so it might as well have been for most of their lives. They were to be my core, and I didn't hold back on equipping them with the assortment of equipment that I had provided Prince Nallorath with, except my enchanting skill had increased since then, so the specific statistics were greater.
I didn't actually think I needed protection, here in the village.
Honestly, the household guard was more there for policing my workshop and its surroundings, or to function perhaps as a sort of anti-unionization force, if it came to it that I needed to resort to cheap labor rather than automation. In a word, they protected my interests, rather than my body.
But that increase in Windrunner Village's power didn't go unnoticed. It wasn't long until people came knocking at my door—the first of whom was Seeker Kelen, a magister and mage of some repute and once a former schoolmate and rival of the Grand Magister Belo'vir.
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"I didn't know what I was expecting when I heard from the royal house that I was required." An aristocratic elf whose personage and aura of charisma made him feel taller than he really was strolled into the courtyard before Windrunner Spire. He wore purple robes with several golden rings, though underneath laid a black leather tunic. On his head, he wore a silvery dome, which seemed to function as an intellect amplifying device not dissimilar to that which Antonidas would wear three thousand years in the future. "I am Kelen, the Seeker of Wisdom. My foes call me Kelen the Destroyer. You… I am not sure yet."
"I am Lirath Windrunner," I gave him a slight bow with the bend of my waist. We had not truly exchanged and undergone master-apprentice rituals yet, so there was little need for me to be overly respectful. Nevertheless, I felt slightly suffocated by the amount of power he radiated from his body. It seemed I had not made an incorrect choice after all. "Perhaps I could help clarify things."
"There is no need. I can see what I need to see. You are ambitious. It's almost as if you're trying to build a new state outside of the kingdom… but alas, even if I did care, child, the unity of the highborn elves is a core tenet of our people. Many would take up arms against you if you were to… make your move too early." An arcane symbol formed of clear blue light wrote itself above his brow and his eyes glowed with that similar blue light. He was looking around, and he was staring at me.
But I felt confident that he couldn't really see the complex machinery within my workshop, and even if he could, he would be unable to identify it all. Even I had problems with that—that was the problem with those types of building infrastructure games like Factorio. After a certain point where everything was automated, I couldn't tell how moving one piece of equipment could affect the whole.
So I stood there with my back straight, knowing that he pierced many barriers and saw many things, but he didn't see everything.
"If you are here to lecture me, Seeker Kelen, then does that mean I already passed your tests?" I eyed him carefully.
The corners of his lips twitched. "A cheeky child, aren't you? Perhaps after your first century, I might take you in as an apprentice. I already have one, but the world is large, and one day I won't need to be on the borderlands. Perhaps teaching you won't be such a hassle."
"Excuse me," My eyes narrowed. "Did you just say you were on the borderlands?"
"Oh? Did I not mention that?" He smiled. "As one of the few with authority above regular magisters, I have a duty to be part of the defenses of the kingdom… does that dampen your mood, Lirath Windrunner?"
"On the contrary, Seeker, that just makes this better." I spread my hands, "For you see, I had long since wished to be part of the defenses, though I knew little of the specifics. I only know that my mother is there and that I wish to be by her side and aid her how I can."
"You would do more for her if you stayed here. Surely you know how much your supplies have helped hold the lines? We have been able to strike out rather than hide behind shadows and ward stones for the first time in decades," He kept speaking in such a nonchalant tone, but there was a spark of something in his eyes.
He was planning something, and he knew I knew it.
I didn't actually look forward to going to the front lines… but committing a small genocide on the Amani Troll Empire would do wonders for my current progression in the Nephalem Wizard class. It wouldn't hurt to also make connections with people of actual experience and were jaded enough by the kingdom's policies.
Nevertheless, before my relationship troubles ended, I wouldn't leave this spire. I couldn't leave Alleria. The last thing I wanted was for her to forget me or move on and then some thousands of years later allow some grubby human hands to get on her milky bosom and pert backside. That was my territory!
Calming the irritation and raise of indignant fury that threatened to burst from the dam within my heart, I turned my attention back to the magister before me. "So then. A compromise. I can help you, if you can help me."
"And by helping you, I am making you into a more suitable apprentice. Yes, I can see how our interests could align." The powerful mage nodded to himself, "Very well. I shall give you a chance. I shall return every year to check your progress and give a few lessons… but it is on your shoulders if you can prove yourself an adequate mage, as well as an able player in the more dangerous games you seek to be a part of."
"I don't know what you mean by that." I shrugged innocently.
"The nobles of Silvermoon know your name, Lirath Windrunner." Kelen warned, but he didn't say anything more on the matter. "I shall leave some of my personal notes and studies to you. Let us see if you prove worthy."
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"And who are you?" I asked the pair of sexy elf women who barged into the spire.
"I am Apprentice Solarian, and this is Apprentice Lana'thel." The taller of the two introduced themselves, "And you are Lirath Windrunner."
Lana'thel, of darker hair tied up into an elegant knot and wearing a pair of dark robes, placed a hand on the first elf's shoulder. Her clothes were unbuttoned as to show a rather perky valley of flesh just enough to entice, whereas her companion's dress was impeccable. "Solarian, perhaps it is best that I do the talking."
"You are the one who supplied the Third Prince with his armaments. I am certain of this." Solarian stated, ignoring the hand on her shoulder.
"… just go right out and say it, why don't you?" Lana'thel buried her face in her free palm.
And if their surprise appearance didn't put me on guard, this exchange did. I brought myself up to my full height, which was more than enough to meet Solarian's eyes at the same level, and squared my jaw. There was no point in fighting the claim, but I needed to know why they were here. "Perhaps I had helped the Prince. That is between me and him."
"Incorrect," Apprentice Solarian pointedly spoke again, "That is between you and the Prince and the kingdom. Whatever payments the Prince had exchanged with you, you owe the kingdom taxes on that."
Tax collectors. Fucking tax collectors. What, were they like fantasy, elven IRS now? I thought our society wasn't even advanced enough to have a tax agency! "Apprentices like yourself do not have the authority to toll or to collect taxes on the behalf of the kingdom. So, are you threatening me?"
"We're already here…" Lana'thel sighed before speaking up, "We are not here to threaten you, Lirath Windrunner. I doubt you are even the one who orchestrated everything—we are here to sate our curiosity, and nothing more."
"That's not true!" Solarian exclaimed to her companion, now completely forgetting I was even here. "Direct apprentices of magisters have the authority to seek out the irregularities within the kingdom and audit them for the truth. And while we cannot collect the taxes that are due, our masters can. Furthermore, Lirath Windrunner, do you even know what you have gotten yourself into? The battles between the Seven Houses and the Royal Family are not for the faint of heart!"
… I really needed to hurry up and become more powerful. If nothing else than to have the ability to bend these uppity elf girls over on my lap and spank them for all they were worth.
And I had already reached equilibrium once again.
Perhaps it was time for another blind summoning to take place. Just the trade between my workshop and the few black markets within the Resident Evil universe was starting to be no longer enough to sustain my appetites.
As for these girls, I could get rid of them temporarily, but they were like Lois Lane. I wouldn't be able to completely get rid of them unless I either took extreme measures or I could convince them that they didn't need to look my way. At this time however, I had already gained a temporary shield for these inquiring eyes. Perhaps that was why he had shown up when he did.
He knew something… and this favor would have to be repaid at a latter date.
I eyed the girls. "Have either of you ladies heard of the name of Kelen the Seeker?"
Stairway to Somewhere (Multicross SI?)
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Interlude 2. The Princess of Colchis
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"As long as you remain useful, I'll break you in properly."
Hatred and acceptance went hand-in-hand. They called her a witch. They called her evil. They blamed their faults on her. Were their losses all because of her? Even if she was not the cause of their problems, the actions they took against her gave her no recourse. She was trapped in this cycle, and everything had been her fault.
So if they all blamed her, then why couldn't she embrace that evil within? Why not let loose on the hatred begotten by their hatred? The icy rage that burned within her heart became a bonfire.
Beneath this dark sky, battered by the harsh rain, she crawled and clawed within the mud.
Medea had fallen so low.
For what?
Why?
It was funny. Hilarious, in a fatalistic way, she thought as she collapsed into the soft, wet earth under her back. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed hysterically, even as her bleeding wounds hurt so much. "So in the end, I will die like this again?"
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
"Passed around from one man to the next. Used and then tossed away. Hated." Hated faded with time, as all emotions did. And now, hate faded as her life drained. And what had defined her in other people's minds had become a truth that she still refused to accept. "Hated as a witch. All I wanted, all I wanted was…"
Spacetime shattered. The jagged, red edge of reality tore away.
The rain stopped—no, it did not cease.
It did not exist.
All around her, the shadows stilled while the darkness remained. What happened to the forest, or the trees, or the night sky and the dreadful clouds? All around her were only white, marble walls, strumming with magic… the very earth pulsed with it, and the air was filled with it, and tasted of it. Yet the world did not react or change, or reply as it once had done.
Unseen chains fell from where they had been, while new ones came from nowhere. The repression of the world stilled—as if the very world itself stopped in its active pursuits and fell into slumber. The dark chamber was silent, save for the droplets that fell from her cloak.
Her breathing hitched as her eyes fell upon the glowing circle surrounding her. Such power it had that it bound her as tightly as the world once had bound lesser magus, but what brought fear to her heart was the pair of glowing blue eyes that watched her.
"What happened to you?" The man, no, her vision had been blurry at a distance, but as he knelt before her, she saw that he was but a boy. But he was no normal child, his features had abnormal beauty and charm that she might have thought it a magic that was drawing her attention to him… but his ears were so long…
… she didn't know what to make of him.
He ran a hand through his glistening golden locks of hair and sighed. "I must have summoned you at a bad time. I apologize. I am Lirath Windrunner."
Medea shivered as he reached for her. She had become distrustful of men who were too beautiful, too handsome. They all used her, before tossing her aside. That had been the tale of her life. What would make him any different, save for his youth?
"Too tired to talk, huh? What a strange looking elf you are. Well, an elf is an elf. No matter what, you're cute. But you seem… short on magic. Here, let me help you out a little." He overcome what feeble resistance she could have mounted as if it was tissue paper. His hands wrapped around hers. He was warm. He felt kind, and gentle, and caring.
For someone like her, she wondered? But before she could even question it, pure power poured through his touch and into her like the light of the sun from a new dawn. It chased away the shadows of pain and hate and doubt, and filled her with a raw emotional love that she knew was not her own. Was that what he was feeling, in order to provoke this magecraft to help her? The iceberg of her suspicions slowly melted away with the soothing warmth, before she hacked out a cough and found her voice. "… I am Medea of Colchis."
"Medea? That is a cute name too. Very unique." He nodded to himself, but he was not looking at her. He was studying her wounds—the wounds she endured from escaping the Lancer, from destroying the workshop, and from… from her betrayal. "Are you feeling better?"
"A slight reprieve." She scoffed sardonically, as her situation caught up to her. "I am cut off, and without a vessel. I will soon pass on."
He frowned at this, and it touched her that he felt so earnestly worried about her. "That's terrible. How did this happen?"
She had nothing left to lose.
So she told him.
He said nothing as she spoke, nodding and humming when ever she paused. It looked as if he believed her, but if the lack of surprise was any hint then she wondered if he already knew of her tale—which was simply impossible—or if he still harbored doubts.
That was fine. It was a difficult story to believe, and the power he poured into her circulated, she found herself wondering where she was. This clearly was no longer the same city she had been summoned into. He had called her from a great distance, which spoke of either great power or great experience, or something far more unique.
She wondered. Or she would have, had the exhaustion not bore down upon her. Now, she only wished to answer him and see if he could provide a shelter for her that she wished for. "… Do you believe me?"
"What is there to disbelieve?" He answered with a question. "Do you know where you are?"
"A different land?"
"A different world, Medea."
Now, it was her turn to find doubt. She shook her head; she had to admit that he looked strange enough. Did he meant to say that all men of his kind looked like so? Perhaps she had jumped to conclusions. "If you can believe me, then I can believe you. You have no reason to help me, Lirath. How was it that you have brought me here…? Why have you brought me to this land?"
"What I want is no longer important." He shook his head. "It is more important to help you now. Even if you had not said what you had, I don't know if you will survive the night, so covered in blood and wounds."
So that was it, wasn't it?
He was going to toss her aside, like all the others before him.
Medea… found she had come to accept it. It was her fate, damned as it was. There was no strength in her left to hate what the world had done to her, or to ask why she deserved this life.
"So, let's start." He crossed his legs and sat in front of her.
She felt a jolt of surprise.
The boy's head tilted to a side. "No? I speak honestly; I do not care for this Holy Grail War, but I want to help you. Is there some way to qualify as your master?"
Medea did not know she had been holding in a breath, until she had exhaled at moment. It was neither a sigh of relief nor was it resignation, but something in between and something that was neither.
She wanted to believe… but hope was a fickle thing. With every opportunity of hope having been crushed before, how could she trust this time would be different? But he was just a boy… a child. So young, yet so desirable, and tender, and gentle…
… she wanted to believe. She wanted to believe this was a chance. And she wanted to believe that he had potential to be someone different.
.
"This kingdom is corrupted from top to bottom. Not by vile magic, but by the greed and sloth. The common people toil away under the chess board that is the game of the nobles, who are deaf to their plight. It will fall one day. It will be a ruinous fall." She said to him as her arms slithered around his back and over his shoulders. She nested herself against him, pressing her chest against his back and savoring the taste of his favor on the tip of her tongue. She breathed him in, and intoned, "You could change all of that. You could be king."
The hours turned into days after Medea of Colchis sealed the pact with Lirath Windrunner. He never called himself her master, nor did he hold her at arms length. He did not even call her Caster. It seemed like foolish youthfulness, but he held strange yet strong ideals. "I'll never be king. I never want to be king. Not like him, and not to a kingdom like this."
If her previous masters, from Jason to Atrum, never had such strange ambitions, would she still have been the woman she was today? Could she have avoided tragedy? She looked away, "… yet you want to look back into that world."
"You don't like it? It's your home, Medea." He reached for her, and she allowed herself to be taken into his arms. It was comfortable here, with his arm around her waist and to sit on the arm of his seat of power.
"There is nothing left for me there, only bad memories. Yet… you treat this kingdom as I do that world." She chuckled to herself, "Don't we make an interesting pair."
"I think you still want the Grail." He pointed out without moving away.
She stroked his hair gently, as a lover might, and looked upon him fondly. So he wanted to go back to that world for her sake. She had not been mistaken about him. He could be shaped into something perfect. "I do think that there is potential… but there is also risk. Risk to your life. I don't think I can afford it."
"But if the portal isn't open, if I'm not on the other side, then our connection is severed. Such a connection cannot cross so many universes so easily…" He frowned. "But I think there can be gains to be made there too. Medea, I want to try it."
"I don't find the risks worthy." She restated more firmly.
"You've been to my workshop. Your magecraft doesn't work so well on Azeroth as it did on Gaia. Work of third-rate practitioners they may be, I think there's still some merit to the developments from your world." He hummed in thought. "Besides, the better half of my magics work fine on that world."
"That is true," Medea agreed. "If you run into trouble, you can just teleport away. You will be safe no matter what."
"There you go again," He huffed. He sounded annoyed.
"Oh?" She looked to him.
Lirath shook a finger at her, "Don't say something like that. I'm not leaving you behind. I'll… think of something if we run into that. But stop hating yourself so much. You're better than what other people think of you, Medea."
"Even what you think of me?" She smirked.
His cheeks grew pink. "T-That! What I think isn't important! Anyway, let's start preparing!"
.
She found a young maiden riding on a phantasmal beast shaped like a single horned horse outside of her master's spire. The maiden braided the sides of her hair and tied it all back, allowing for a blonde, knotted tail that reached her hips.
Medea wanted her the moment she saw her.
She wanted to dress her up in cute clothes, pink and white perhaps? Or teal and white? Or perhaps a low-cut back that showed off the maiden's shoulders? Who was she, and why was she here?
His sister? Medea wiped away at the corner of her lips. These lax, joyous days would soon end, she told herself. They would return to the Holy Grail War soon enough. She couldn't become so relaxed with this life… but she also couldn't help it. She wanted to dress them both up. They were so… so delicious. So beautiful. So perfect.
This was a kingdom of elves, of the fae. Yet out of all of them, it was this brother and sister pair that drew her baser instincts, and lit a fire in her loins and in her heart.
The outfits would be tasteful, of course. Looking at what they wore before hand, she found herself sighing. They were like diamonds in the rough, and the clothes they wore were incredibly rough. She would correct that. She would make them new clothes, with new materials, incorporating all the techniques of this new world and this new kingdom that she had learned.
Though Medea had only come to know him for a few days, she didn't regret this. She felt his honest love for her, when they touched. She knew he cared for her.
And so she would set the whole world on fire, if it meant bringing a moment of joy to him.
What promise he held?
Medea of Colchis swore to herself, this boy would make the perfect husband. She would raise him right, where he would not betray or be betrayed. He would become her perfect lover, such that she would love him even for all his faults… no, for his faults as well.
How did the Grail word it? A reverse Hikaru Genji?
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Notes: lmao blame Biigoh for this one if it's shit, okay?
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