Chapter Eighty-Six: Heptarchis – Part One (Illustrations!)
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The following morning featured an emotional parting.   

Mom and Dad knew I would be fine attending the Heptarchis in Orchta, but they still hugged me tightly and said they loved me.   

“I’m…sorry I haven’t spent much time with you. Dad, I still have so much left to learn. When I return, can you teach me? It doesn’t matter what it’s about. I want to learn from you.”  

“Of course, sweetie.”  

“And Mom. My cooking ware in [Artificer’s Arsenal] has been upgraded. Maybe we can go to the market and get some stuff? I still wanna learn more of your recipes.”  

“That sounds like fun to me. Take care, dear. We love you.”  

“I love you, too.” Mom and Dad rubbed my back.   

Those blisters aren’t going away… It’s been so long… It’s making me uneasy…  

“Be safe, okay?” Irisa held my hands, and I told her I would.   

I ruffled Erin’s hair, kissed her head, and did the same to my loyal fairy.   

It didn’t look like Primrose had told Niva, but that would change soon. She probably wanted to wait for me to leave first so Niva would see me off with a smile. 

The two embraced me.    

Ginnie and Chax received hugs before I left with Tris and Surtr. We hopped on the lion’s back, and he took us to the ministry. We found two carriages, and only one was pulled by four green stallions.   

“Good morning, Lord Springfield.” Gretchen was just now coming out the door. Two handmaids were carrying her luggage to the carriage.   

“Morning, Lady Plymoise.” I nodded and started attaching Surtr to the carriage’s harness. I chatted with Gretchen for a bit. Orchta was in the heart of Parthina, so it would take a week or two to arrive. The plan was for Ayroix to meet with us during the trip with two additional wagons full of supplies.   

Yeah. He’s Lord Atrix, now. Naturally, he’d be invited to attend. It'd be a pain if he declined it.    

“The supplies leaving with us are scheduled to arrive within the hour. If I can be open with you, Lord Springfield, my heart feels fluttery.”  

“I don’t doubt it. With proof of Orchta’s collusion and breaking their neutrality, you stand to gain. However, I cannot help you with your negotiations. You must use your words and ensure Plymoise emerges for the better.”  

“Yes, you’re right.” The portly woman covered in so much green smiled. Her eyes were obscured slightly by her oversized traveling hat. I told her she had my vow that I would protect her during this trip. Nothing would come close to harming her. “And you have my biggest thanks. I shudder to think what would have happened to my little city-state had you not been here. You are truly a blessing.”  

“And I thank you for your kind words. However, if I see an opportunity to help, I may or may not have to lend a hand.” I gave her a wink, causing her to laugh like a stereotypical noble.    

The supply wagon arrived ahead of schedule, so it was time to depart, with it taking the lead. Ayroix and the other two were to meet us at nightfall.    

The driver of Gretchen’s carriage whipped his reins, the horses moved, and they followed behind the supplies. Surtr pulled up the rear, remaining third in this convoy. He laughed and said the drakes were easier to kill than pulling this.  

“Something’s on your mind, my lord.” Tris sat beside me, and we were alone in the carriage. The windows were slightly tinted, and I looked out at them to observe the rolling, dry plains.    

It’s all brown. Nothing. But. Brown.    

“You could say that.” 

I looked from the window and saw Tris resting her head on my lap. She took off her cowboy hat and put it on me. “Is it of the future?” she asked, looking up at me. 

I rubbed her head and scratched her ears. “Yeah. The situation with Prim is resolved, and Niva’s about to kick her training into high gear. I want to spy on them, but I also want to be surprised at their growth. But… I’m thinking about my family…and how… impossibly difficult it'll be for us to remain together. My life of violence is not made for her. Tilde’s warning is affecting me more and more. I feel like I’m just rambling.” 

“Ramble away, my lord. Keep talking” 

I didn’t know for how long, but I just talked about my worries.  

“… I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to help you.” 

“This is more than enough, Tris. Well, you have me to yourself on this trip, so what do you want me to do?” 

“Can...you fluff my ears?” 

I fondly smiled. “Of course. I won’t stop. Not even for a minute.” 

“Tilde told me that sometimes all it takes is being near someone,” purred Tris. She closed her eyes and showcased a beautiful expression. It made me want to love her more. 

“She wasn’t wrong,” I whispered.  I thought she would’ve suggested something lewd. Then again, the windows weren’t that tinted. I didn’t need the carriage to be rocking like crazy. Besides, last night... I probably had enough sex for two lifetimes, and Tris was still raring to go when the sun came up.  

When she was in the mood… 

She was…insatiable. 

Just like a lioness. 


We eventually stopped for the night when it was time to camp, but I remained awake atop our carriage. A handful of clone birds explored the surrounding area until they died, which helped me index more of Plymoise’s never-ending, desert-like brown plains.     

Two wagons and a carriage pulled up to our campfire after midnight, but I wasn’t alarmed.    

“Lord Springfield!” Ayroix said, emerging from an orange-clad carriage. He dressed to impress with an orange suit, a cloak, and an axe hanging off his hip. I jumped down and shook his hand.    

“It’s been too long,” I replied, watching Blackthorn and Captain Morgan emerge next. Verdant and Lysander must’ve remained behind to help handle things. “And you as well, friend. How’s your family?”   

“Better than ever, my lord.” Blackthorn nodded. He wasn’t much to be overly formal. “By the by, might I ask about that woman?”   

“That’s Tris. You can thank her for the reconstruction plans.”   

Ayroix couldn’t believe it, but Blackthorn said nothing could surprise him. Captain Morgan lightly chuckled and remarked he was also stunned silence after witnessing Tris’s incredible intellect.      

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Tris said. She didn’t bow or show any other kind of respect. Her voice was just kind. I doubt she’d ever lower her head for someone that wasn’t me. “If you have any questions or concerns about the plans, ask, and I shall answer them.”    

“And look behind you. But don’t scream. You’ll see my other partner.”   

“What other—” Ayroix turned around…and saw Surtr looking at him in the eye. To my surprise... He held himself steady and didn’t soil his breeches.     

“I’ve…heard stories, but to see him this close…” Blackthorn uncharacteristically flinched and gulped. But after they heard him speak, they calmed down once he shared a few conversations with them. Captain Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle once more. He said Lysander had told stories about Surtr after I had left, but they thought he was joking.  

“Lysander’s too serious to embellish about that,” I said.  

After Ayroix, Blackthorn, and Morgan constructed their tents, we sat around the campfire and spoke about Atrix. Verdant and Captain Morgan were instrumental. It took some convincing, but the people readily accepted Plymoise’s help after a rousing speech about the Spirit of Unity—something Tris had prepared as a precaution.    

The city was still months from being repaired, but life was as it should've been. A few nobles were reluctant to help, but their assets were seized by Ayroix since they were partly responsible for the corruption that led to the rebellion. But Ayroix pointed out that gross overuse of power wasn’t on his mind. The last thing he needed was for the High Elf of Liberation to come for his head.  He desired to be fair and just. And not for himself, but for his family…   

He was going to be father… Tris telepathically told me Beatrice was approximately two months pregnant. General Blackthorn was caught off guard, but the man hid it well.    

Ayroix wished he could tell Cid. “If it’s a boy, we agreed to name him that—with Dryke as a middle name. If it’s a girl? Beatrice likes the sound of Bella.”   

“They’re wonderful names, Ayroix,” I said.     

We couldn’t celebrate that loudly, but I took out some booze I had stashed and shared a toast.  

“Ah, but before I forget.” Ayroix scampered to his carriage and returned with three carefully packaged boxes.   

“What’s this?”  

“It’s a present from Ms. Verdant to wear at the Heptarchis. She pulled a few all-nighters to finish it.”  

“Care to try it on, my lord?” asked Tris.   

“Sure. Why not? Excuse me, gentlemen… Surtr, could you make me a flame curtain?”  

“As you wish.” Surtr raised his tail and fired a spark of black flames. An enclosed circle about ten feet tall appeared when it landed twenty feet away, and I effortlessly walked through the opaque fire to find myself entrapped in total privacy.   

A bit overkill, but it worked.   

“Now… What do we have here?”   

I was honestly excited and giddy. Verdant was a good woman. I liked her, and to receive a gift from her? It made my heart quiver—especially if she had made it with her two hands.    

And it was gorgeous… So tantalizingly beautiful that…I cried.  

Her precious present was a full-body costume adorned with various shades of green leaves and vines. The headpiece was a bit much, but it connected beautifully with the neck accessory. Lucious, thick leaves were layered onto the skirt that trailed behind, and the arm gauntlets were given the same loving attention.   

I…  

I felt like a princess…like an actual, genuine, true princess of the forest. I felt the cool, smooth wooden leggings and delicately carved heels, then…  

I cried.   

This…  

Was this me? It felt like I was meant to wear this.  

The curtain of flames went down, and jaws dropped.   

 

Spoiler

Mila - Arc 4 - Verdant Gift

[collapse]

 

“It looks stunning on you, Lord Springfield.”   

“Indeed. I say Ms. Verdant’s efforts bore fruit. You wear it well, Lord Springfield.”  

Surtr quietly roared his approval, and Tris remarked on my pulchritudinous beauty, likening me to the bright stars blanketing this gorgeous night.

Ask Tilde to send a letter to Verdant on my behalf thanking her for her present. I want her to know how much I love it.    

As you wish, my lord. Tilde wishes to see it, so I used waypoint imaging to recreate your appearance. She gives you two thumbs up! 

Well, I’m glad she approves, haha!  

 The only problem…was the chest. It was too small. I had to shrink my breasts to fit, but was that really a problem? Hell no. This outfit… It was possibly the best gift I didn’t know I wanted.    

“And Lysander? What has he been doing?” I asked, getting the discussion back on track.    

“Reorganizing the Citrine Reapers,” answered Ayroix. “They’re returning to their original purpose, but they only have 4 members—Lysander, Mikel, Rykla, and Donde.” I didn’t recall that last one, but Tris told me he was one of those archers who had aimed a bow at me.   

“A refocus on nature would do them good. But what about you? The reapers were Gregory’s personal bodyguards and assassins.”  

“Assassins? Do...I need them?”  

“Perhaps not, Lord Atrix,” replied Captain Morgan. "But I cannot deny the role that assassination plays in maintaining peace." 

“He’s right,” I added. “You’re always going to have dissidents. But frame the question around. Don’t ask about assassins, but inquire about a replacement for the reapers. However, frame them as bodyguards first. Think of them as...your secret service. A group of warriors dedicated to your well-being.”  

“Secret...service?”  

“The name isn’t important,” I said. “But I know little of ruling and needing specialized defenses.”  

“Because you’re so strong?”  

“That’s right. But it’s different. Surtr’s my guardian. And I have another close ally—his original summoner. I don’t require protection around the clock, but someone like you? It wouldn’t be the worst thing. Yet don’t let it get to your head. You’re not a god. You may hold the blood of a Vestige, but you still bleed like any other man. And that means you can die. No one... No one is truly immortal. Not a Dark Lord... And not a Holy Lord.”  

“...” Ayroix pondered my thoughts as he drank.   

“You’re a ruler now. You and your people have expectations.” I kept going. “Be sure to meet them, but don’t let them run all over you. You must balance on a line finer than a spider’s thread. But know that it’s impossible to make everyone happy. Every action you take will enrich one while another suffers. But I shouldn’t get off topic. Blackthorn?”  

“Yes?”  

“You’re aware of what I’m talking about, right? A defensive force? A unit that would give their lives for Ayroix.”  

“I am. The notion has crossed my mind, but the process will be rigorous and rough.”  

“Tryouts, then? I’m aware a large portion of the military has sworn an oath to Ayroix, but you cannot be sure their loyalties are legitimate.”  

“That is a concern of mine. I feel that it may be too soon. Some may see it as Lord Atrix exercising his power, so it may be better to wait until the fire has simmered.”  

“Those are my thoughts exactly. Returning home with excellent news from the Heptarchis will go a long way, Ayroix. Then again, perhaps not. You will make these decisions in the future, and the answer will not always be easy. Remember. You’re responsible for every life in your city-state.”  

“...” The young ruler was quiet and lost in thought, and Ayroix had much to ponder. After yawning, I suggested that it may be better for his mind to process everything while he slept.   

“Don’t worry. Surtr and I’ll take the night watch,” I said, seeing them to their tents. They thanked me once more, and I was alone with my lion, leaning against his warm fur, chatting about whether Ayroix had what it took to lead a city-state.   

The morning sun approached a few hours later, and during breakfast, Gretchen and Ayroix formally pledged to an agreement of trade and defense.  The two were now allies. They were before because both had signed the documents, but this was their first in-person meeting.  

“But I didn’t know Verdant had it in her,” said Gretchen. “She could make a very lucrative living designing clothing for elves. Oh, it looks absolutely dashing on you, Lord Springfield. Oh, I must ask her about her sewing process.”  

After we ate, it was time to continue. This time, Tris was greedy and wanted me to hold her hands while giving her a lap pillow.   

Well, who was I to deny her?  

She kept looking at me and said I was like a warm sun.   

We left Plymoise territory and passed by Indiko’s borders in the afternoon. Whereas Atrix had flowing plains of green and a lot of nature, Indiko seemed to be perpetually trapped in autumn—one partly dyed by a crimson tint. The many trees were blanketed by auburn leaves falling from the slightest gust.    

Indikoian guards on patrol stopped us, but they let us pass once Gretchen and Ayroix told them we were attending the Heptarchis. The soldiers even grabbed their horses and escorted us along the quickest path. Nothing horrific happened, so it wasn’t a ploy to take us out, but it felt weird.    

Surtr probably put a wrench in those ploys if they had any.    

And nothing of note happened when night fell upon the land—other than letting Surtr roam loose and hunt the nearby wildlife. He was back in the morning, yet his footsteps were so insanely quiet that I barely heard them.    


In the blink of an eye, the last day was upon us.    

It had taken us six days of travel.  

During that time, Gretchen had imparted some of her wisdom upon Ayroix whenever we stopped for breaks. She took it upon herself to act as his mentor, I guess. He wasn’t even 20 years old, but even though he was ‘pressured’ into doing this, he still chose to see it through. And he couldn’t back out now. The time for that was long, long, long gone.   

But if he had submitted to cowardice and disregarded Verdant and Cid... I would’ve had to take his spot. That plan was to manipulate Little Gregory’s journal to reveal a second bastard son and create a clone to turn into him rather than waste it on Cid. After killing Little Gregory, I'd assimilate him to have his blood running through the clone. Then, while participating in the forthcoming Heptarchis, the clone would convince the others that they would abdicate the city-state to install a democracy-driven council to look after it since, at that moment, the clone would ‘reveal’ a hidden and incurable disease.   

Yes, it had flaws, but it was enough to give Atrix a starting boost to hopefully change things around. Lysander would’ve helped a lot. And Blackthorn would’ve joined the council since he loved the city-state. So, Tris predicted things would’ve been fine for a few years, if not a decade, before tension or war threatened to crumble the fragile peace that had been constructed.   

You couldn't force democracy on a country that had never experienced it and expect it to work without issues or flaws.   

And at that point?  

Was it really my responsibility to step in and save things?  

I’d only do it if there was a risk of my family being harmed or killed due to the fallout, but other than that...and if I didn’t need the life force or SP...  

I wouldn’t join.   

But I’d be the biggest fool to give up so much free food and power. I wasn’t in a spot where I could ignore an easy chance to tremendously grow in strength—even considering where I’d be a decade from now. This world had taught me that you couldn’t be too powerful.  

So...  

I suppose I’d have to involve myself if I happened to be around the area, but I didn’t think I’d rush across countries or sail across the ocean to reach it.  

In the early morning, we left our campsite after putting out the fire and rode south through Riotic. The land was enchanting because all sources of water were lavender. The rain was purple. The streams looked like someone had melted and poured a trillion tons of amethyst into the lakes. Even the wind was tinted, and it felt so much like winter.    

But it never snowed.    

I summoned Clone!Sekh during this last leg of the journey.    

But it wasn’t to make love.   

It was to talk.    

“You should see Primrose. I fucked up with her, but things are better. She shouldn’t have any more nightmares about Aetos. But we’re almost at Orchta. Hopefully, this won’t take long… I’m sorry…it’s taking so--”   

“I love you, and I’ll always love you,” the clone said in her voice. “You’re doing your best. I’m proud of you. And I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. I’m waiting for you…”   

“Sekh… I’m…almost there. I just need to find someone to heal your wounds… But I swear… I’ll find someone. Just…remain strong…”   

“I shall wait for you...no matter how long it takes…” Sekh’s clone visibly shuddered. It was about to turn into slime and vanish…but even in its dying moments…it wanted to comfort me.     

After it did, Tris crawled into my lap and hugged my teary face. She whispered sweet nothings and allowed me to love her until we reached our destination. 

So... About Mila's new outfit... It's the first of two that she's going to get. The one the cover art is based off of will be given to her a few chapters from now, so don't worry. It's coming. 

A reader by the name of ivnatopa sent me the image below and thought Mila would look nice wearing it.

https://pin.it/3KoA3US6b

So, I threw that into Microsoft's Co-Pilot AI feature, asked it to put that outfit on an elf with long blond hair and brown eyes, and then change the background to a desert. It's not the best. There are many flaws, but it works. I do wish the chest was bigger. Mila's far bustier than the image would suggest, but we can chalk that up to her shrinking her chest to fit in the top.

And the ears. They should be angled slightly more upwards, but I couldn't get the AI to make those changes. But it's good enough. The baseline image is there. 

Also, there will be at least two more images throughout the rest of this Arc. 

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