Eric dreamed that he was on a fishing boat, but not in Ahya. He knew he was on Earth because, in addition to the boat being an aluminum craft that his father had owned, he also recognized where he was. While the ocean stretched out further than he could see on one end, on the other, he could just make out the coastline of Alaska, and he realized where he was just from that. It was an old fishing spot he and his father would frequent in the boat, fishing for halibut. They were about a mile outside Cook Inlet, off the Kenai Peninsula.
The waters around him were peaceful, so he didn’t mind the dramatic change in scenery. But it did intrigue him. Why would he be dreaming of his childhood back on Earth, and not of his wife and daughter, who he’d fallen asleep to only moments ago? He didn’t bother wasting any thoughts on it, instead focusing on the fishing rod in his hands, which had just twitched violently, indicating that a halibut was on the end of the line.
He braced himself, anchoring the pole at his hip as he’d learned, and began to heave the pole up, rowing as he lowered it. It felt even easier than he’d remembered, and he reveled in the quiet joy of hauling the fish up from the depths below. In a minute, he’d pulled it to the surface. It was a pretty big one. Not the largest he’d caught, but definitely substantial. Gleeful, he snatched up the big metal hook laying off to the side and used it to heave the fish into the boat. It flailed around as soon as it landed, and he whacked it over the head with a small wooden bat. Immediately, it went still.
“Nice catch,” his father said, helping him slide it into the compartment under their feet, where it would stay until they got back home. “Pretty big.”
“Yeah,” Eric said, satisfied. He stuck another herring onto the end of the hook and threw the line back in. “Probably the biggest we’ll catch today.”
His father chuckled at the implied challenge and boast, but there was something different about the sound. Curious, Eric looked up. His father was gone, but he wasn’t alone on the boat. Instead, there was a woman sitting on the bench across from him, holding a fishing rod in her hands. She wore a light green dress in spite of the chilly air around them, and her hair, a deep red in color, was flowing freely in the wind, not kept under a cap.
“Hello, Eric,” the woman said, smiling warmly at him. “This is a beautiful place. A perfect memory for our meeting.”
In spite of the fact that Eric had only ever seen the woman once, and that had barely been a glimpse, he knew at once who she was. He felt as though this meeting had been planned for months, and he’d forgotten about it until that exact moment. In spite of the ancient power that she radiated, he felt completely at ease in her presence, like he was sitting with his own mother. Well, she wasn’t called “The Mother” for nothing, he reasoned.
“H-Hi,” he said, stammering slightly. How was he able to see her so clearly, let alone speak to her? “It’s, err… It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she said. “Well, this is only the first time for you. I’ve watched you ever since Samuel summoned you the first time.”
Eric felt a shiver run down his spine. In another being, the words would set off alarms in his mind, and put him on guard. But coming from Ahya, the words were soothing and encouraging. Of course she knew him. She probably knew him as well as he knew himself, if not better. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”
She only smiled wider, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I think after all that you’ve done for me, it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask anything else. But I can, or rather I should say thank you.”
Eric had felt awkward in the extreme at Samuel’s gratitude, even if it had clearly been genuine. But as Ahya said the words, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride fill him. His chest swelled, and he sat up a little straighter, smiling almost as widely. But the surprise wasn’t over.
“I believe that one of my children still had one request to ask of you,” she said. “It is not necessary for you to accept, but if you do, I believe I can grant you a valuable reward.”
“What kind of request?” He asked. Strange that his mind had focused on the task, rather than the reward. Or perhaps not that strange, he thought. Just sitting a few feet away from Ahya made him want to help her with any problem she could have. If she asked him to jump into the ocean, some part of him would want to obey in an instant.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise,” she said, rising to her feet. The fishing pole had vanished completely. So did the ocean scene around them. Eric found himself sitting cross-legged beside the sleeping forms of his wife and daughter. All at once, he felt a wave of exhaustion coming over him, dragging him back to sleep. He laid down, and she knelt beside him.
“We ask this one last great thing of you, Eric. If you’d be so kind, you could find this life to be a permanent one.”
-
The throne room of the newly constructed palace was packed with people, standing shoulder-to-shoulder along the sides, leaving only the walkway in the center clear. There was a line of Royal Guard members with shining armor, clean uniforms, and pikes to hold them at bay, but they maintained the respectful space out of respect. Today was a momentous day, they all knew. The palace had finished its reconstruction only a week before, and now that things had more or less stabilized in the country, it was time to recognize and honor everyone that was responsible for the safe return of their own.
All fell silent as the new Queen, Mira Ciayol, head of the bloodline of Bora Bora’s human descendants, rose to her feet. With all the members of the main branch of the family dead, she’d suddenly found herself as the heir apparent to the most influential family in the world, and catapulted to the highest power in the nation. She was young, no more than seventeen or eighteen years of age. There were more than a few in the crowd who felt uneasy with this fresh-faced monarch in charge, but their faith in her advisors was strong as ever.
Samuel Bragg, the Champion of the God of Knowledge and the court’s Prime Magus, not to mention the temporary Speaker of the Court as the last one had been killed in the palace explosion, stepped forward, clearing his throat. At the tiny gesture, the crowd shivered excitedly, eager to hear what he had to say and to experience what they were sure would be a historic day.
“Welcome, fine people of Milagre,” he said. They were interested to note that he didn’t distinguish between the noble and common folk. It wasn’t his way, after all. “Today is a fortuitous day for us all. As you know, a mere eight months ago, this palace was destroyed, and our city was taken by enemy hands.”
A dark muttering ran through the crowd at that. Many of its members were still grieving over the lives lost in that event. Samuel lifted one hand to quiet them, his face empathetic. “Our enemy was strong, perhaps stronger than any we’d faced before. I will not lie to you or attempt to claim that routing them from the city was easy. It was no small feat to retake our home and remove those that had stolen it.”
More than a few heads nodded in fervent agreement, particularly those of the fighting men and women, who had witnessed the battle for themselves. More than eighty percent of the attacking force they’d summoned had been killed. Those that survived were more lucky than they were strong or skilled, and they knew it. Still, there had been no lack of honors placed upon them for their service, and they’d been rewarded handsomely for their efforts. Today, it was about honoring the key participants.
As if he could read their minds, Samuel allowed himself a wide smile, and raised his hand again, this time gesturing towards the large double doors. “Today, we honor the finest of our heroes, those that returned to us our home, our sanctuary, our miracle. Come in, our honored heroes, and be witnessed!”
With a sufficiently impressive grinding sound, the doors were pulled open, and the crowd let out a loud murmur of interest and intrigue as they saw the four figures that entered. A tall young man with brownish blond hair, clad in a long dark blue coat stamped with a golden raven crest. A woman with a pale face and brunette hair, wearing elaborate robes of dark blue trimmed in gold. Beside her, a young man with a shock of untidy black hair, bright green eyes, and also sporting a master mage’s robe, though carrying a sheathed jade-green sword. And behind them, an elegant man in his mid-forties, wearing the time-honored white robe of an Issho-Ni Grandmaster.
Samuel lifted both arms now as he introduced them. “Eric Breeden, Chevalier, and Master of Raven Hall. Megan Richards, Master of Alchemy. Michael Ciayol, Master of Evocation and Acolyte of Arcana. Ehran Tokugawa, Champion of Shigeru Tokugawa, and Grandmaster of Issho-Ni. Look upon them, and witness them. They are our stalwart defenders, great avengers, and honored heroes.”
The applause began with one noble’s wife, who clapped her hands together enthusiastically. Next, a fat trader. Then their entire row was applauding, and it quickly swept through the room. Even the elder members among them rose in a standing ovation, clapping and cheering, calling out their gratitude and appreciation to the four. Eric grimaced against the embarrassing display, but managed to hide it well. He glanced sideways at Megan, admiring how calm she was. He had no way of knowing that she was just better at masking her unease.
“I feel like a cut of meat, put on display,” she said, out of the corner of her mouth to him. “Why can’t Samuel’s thanks be enough?”
“I know how you feel,” Eric hissed back, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably under the heavy and regal coat. He’d much rather have walked in wearing his plain work clothes, or even the anonymous white robe of Issho-Ni.
“If you didn’t want their adoration, you shouldn’t have done such a good job,” Ehran told them. His face was serious as ever, but they could hear the mirth in his words. “Now shut up, and act like proper heroes.”
Eric wanted to throw another comment back, but held himself in, realizing that his mentor had a point. This ceremony, even if it was to honor them, was really for the people around them, to put their minds at ease. It was important, he knew, for the people to see who had fought so hard for them, and to thank them. After this, their confidence and sense of security would only get better. Clever bastard, he thought, looking up at Samuel now. He had to respect the mage’s attention to the finer points of public interest.
“Kneel before your Queen, heroes,” Samuel advised them. He stepped back to allow the young woman to approach them as they all dropped to one knee. Was it just his imagination, or did the Queen look even more self-conscious than he felt? Eric couldn’t blame her. It couldn’t be easy, finding that you were to be Queen so quickly. “Please address us, Your Majesty.”
Queen Mira glanced sideways at Samuel, who nodded encouragingly, then swallowed nervously, looking down at the strangers in front of her. She knew Ehran, but that was only from her time studying at Issho-Ni. She’d never wanted to be Queen. It was her hope to join Issho-Ni as a Master one day, and enjoy an exciting life hunting criminals, not drowning in paperwork and making decisions that would affect an entire kingdom. Queendom, corrected herself mentally, not for the first time.
“I thank you for your tireless service, and your spirit, for defending and reclaiming our home,” she said. At least she sounded like a Queen, she thought, feeling a little more confident. “Without your efforts, we would have faced more than the eight months of dark times that we did. From me, my advisors, my nobles, and all my people, I thank you for our lives.”
