Victor of Tucson

“…and so, with another few weeks of pressure, I’m confident we can force a duel. I don’t know how the rumors are spreading, but the fact that you’ve been sequestered for the better part of two weeks is working in our favor. Even in Gloria, there are whispers that Thorn badly injured you, and my agents in Lovania seem to think that Queen Fabaj is overconfident in her champion’s abilities; I’m hopeful that she’ll accept a duel so long as the terms are even slightly favorable for her.” Lovania was Xan’s—Gloria’s now—eastern neighbor.

Victor nodded, mulling over his thoughts. Kynna had spent close to an hour bringing him up to speed on all that had occurred while he was processing the wyrm egg. The information was interesting on an academic level, but he’d had a hard time staying focused, his mind constantly drifting toward the mountain. Was it worse than before he’d eaten the egg? Back then, he’d certainly found the mountain intriguing, even felt some kind of kinship with it, but he hadn’t felt such a pull. Was it his bloodline feat? Maybe it wasn’t a pull; maybe the instincts of his ancestors were pushing him.

“Victor?”

“I’m sorry, Queen Kynna. My mind is swollen with thoughts after my experience with the egg. To your point, would it be helpful if I remained…absent?”

She arched an eyebrow, lifting a polished, violet nail to her lower lip, gently stroking the plump, pink flesh. Not for the first time, Victor felt she was being seductive, and he shifted, clearing his throat and forcing his eyes to stare into hers. “Did you have something in mind?”

“As I mentioned before, I need to visit that mountain.” He tilted his head toward the window. “My…experience has left me even more sure of it. I feel it pulling, and unless there’s some objection, I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

Kynna clasped her hands atop the table, fidgeting with her thumbs as she closed her eyes briefly, clearly considering her words. “Victor, I hope you understand the far-reaching repercussions to Gloria and its citizens should you fail to return.”

“I won’t abandon you, Kynna. Your magus is coming, right? The guy who can make portals?”

She nodded, unclasping her hands and turning her gaze toward the window. “Yes. Florent has been briefed and stands ready.”

“What is it, do you think? What draws you to that peak? Are there creatures you wish to slay in its depths? I’ve had my historians look into the mountain and this duchy, and there have been times when it was seen as a destination for adventurers more than a source of mineral wealth.”

“I…” Victor stopped, considering his words, and then, more carefully, started again. “I’ve had a connection to a volcano before. A kinship with the rage that can cling to the fiery magma. You’ve seen me fight; you know I can…lose myself.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m just speculating now, but maybe this mountain senses me and the kinship I’ve shared with that other volcano.” He didn’t want to mention his former Class—Dar had drilled into him all too well the benefits of being an unknown quantity when it came to politics.

“Is it true then? Does the mountain have a spirit? Is it alive?”

“I don’t know. I only know that at least one other mountain was. When I felt its spirit and made that connection, it was like—well, imagine I was a candle flame, and the mountain was the sun. I had a lot to learn from the depths of its wrath.”

“Why was it angry?”

Victor chuckled, shrugging. “Maybe it’s because it became a volcano—all that magma flowing through it. Or maybe it became a volcano because it was angry.” Again, he barked a laugh. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to ask this one.”

“You think it’s angry too? Victor, if this mountain were to erupt, most of Gloria would be made into a wasteland. The Elementalists in their temple keep it calm; you mustn’t—”

Victor held up his hands, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about that! I have no intention to go in there and rile things up. I’m going to see where my instincts lead me and then go from there.”

“Following your instincts? That’s your argument for why I should trust you?”

“No, My Queen, you should trust me because I’ve put my life on the line for you a few times now, and your ancestor, Ranish Dar, sent me here to help you.” �

Kynna nodded, her crystal crown tilting precariously. “Very well, Victor. I shall trust you. Please stay in touch, and please return in the event I need you. If you are delving deep and the need arises, rest assured that Florent will be able to mark your location, allowing him to create a portal through which you can return to your explorations.”

“Seriously? That’s pretty damn awesome.”

“Florent is a steel seeker, though his talents lie well outside the realm of combat. If things grow violent, his first instinct will be flight. Please, Victor, do not let him be slain; he’s a good, kind man and a boon to our nation.”

Her voice softened as she spoke about Florent, and a certain light entered her eyes, making Victor wonder if his suspicions about her intentions toward him had been misplaced. He decided to press the conversation into more personal territory, if only to satisfy a question that had been itching to be asked since he first met the queen. “Kynna, may I ask a personal question?”

“I wish you would! I tire of these matters of state.”

“What happened to Tomorran’s father?”

“Ah!” She smiled and chuckled softly. “It’s not as personal as you thought, Victor. Anyone in Gloria could tell you that my former husband passed through his test of steel shortly after Tomorran was born. As you know, the council of veil walkers who watch over Ruhn do not allow members of that tier of society to live among us. Galentine was given a choice: join the council of veil walkers as an apprentice or leave the world. He’d already decided before we became lovers, fully intending to leave and continue his journey of enlightenment, so no one was surprised when he moved on.”

“And you’re good with that?”

“Ah, now it becomes a bit more personal!” She shook her head, smiling as she leaned a little closer. “Do I wish he’d put off his ascension for a decade or three and spent some time with Tomorran? I’d be a liar if I denied it. He made himself very clear, though, when we became entwined. It was a condition of our love—his desire to chase his breakthroughs would not be diminished.”

“He must have been quite a guy.” Victor left the other half of his opinion unspoken—that he thought Galentine sounded like an asshole. Of course, part of him acknowledged some parallels between himself and Valla, only that she’d been the one to make the decision for him, whereas Galentine had simply been honest about his pursuits.

“He is a fascinating and impressive individual, a peerless artisan, and a kind, gentle soul. I thought that Tomorran’s birth would change him, make him want to work less and spend more time with us, but I was wrong. As he puts it, his passion for creation isn’t something he can control; he’s driven by his muses, unable to live without pursuing their demands.” She reached up and gently ran her fingers along the crystalline surface of her crown. “He created this for me as a parting gift.”

Victor could hear some genuine sorrow tinging her words, and, of course, those words evoked more comparisons to himself and Valla in his mind. “It’s beautiful, Kynna. I want to call him a fool for leaving you both, but I’ve had my own troubles of a…similar nature, and I’m no one to judge.”

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“Driven, are you?” She chuckled as he shrugged and nodded. “Well, your pursuits certainly seem different from Galentine’s. Still, I wish you luck and hope you find something to help you in your quest for advancement in yonder mountain. When shall I have Florent report for duty?”

“If it’s okay with you, immediately.”

“Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll maintain close communication with him. Meanwhile, I have much to do. To start, I have meetings with my cousins for the next three days. Everyone’s still quite upset about the coup attempt and my sudden relocation. I’m rather enjoying keeping people at arm’s length! It’s driving the nobles of Gloria mad that I’m only allowing five visitors through the portal chamber daily. More than that, I’m only giving them day passes!”

“Hah! I guess that keeps security easy.”

“Indeed!” Kynna stood, smiling, and turned toward the door. “It was nice to get to know you a little more, Victor. I hope we’ll sit together again when you return from the mountain.”

“Yeah.” Victor also stood and, feeling awkward, reached up to scratch his fingers through his short, stiff hair. “I feel the same way.”

“Travel safely. I’ll look forward to our next meeting.”

“Um, yes, My Queen. Until next time.” She stood by the door, hesitating, and Victor’s mind raced with possible reasons. Was she expecting some show of affection? They’d never hugged or anything like that. When she glanced at the door and cleared her throat, Victor’s mind stopped racing, and he slapped himself on the head. “I’m sorry!” He hurried over and opened it for her, holding it wide. “Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.”

She smiled a little crookedly, her eyes amused, as she passed through. When her guards and retainers formed around her, Victor heard her say, “Larassa, find Magus Florent and have him report to Victor’s chambers immediately.” Then they were in the elevator, and Victor couldn’t hear anything more.

He looked at Bryn. “Anyone else?”

“No, sir.”

“Okay, get your shit together; we’re heading up the mountain. Don’t mention that to anyone.”

Bryn jerked upright, her armor clanking as she turned to stare at him. “My shit, sir?”

“Get all your stuff! I mean anything you want to bring. We’ll be hiking around the mountain and probably going deep into the mines or tunnels or whatever’s up there.”

“Should I bring Feist?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about him. Yeah, I need to meet him, and you might as well have some help.”

She gestured to the elevator. There were no stairs to his suite, which likely wouldn’t pass any safety regulations, but Victor didn’t think there were any regulations, especially when the duke’s palace was the building in question. “Is it all right to leave for a few minutes? I need to go wake him.”

“Yeah, go for it. I’ll be alert.” While she waited for the elevator, Victor went back into his quarters and took Arona’s phylactery from his container. As soon as it touched the open air, foggy mist began to seep from the bone, slowly coalescing into the translucent likeness of Arona’s long-gone physical form.

In her usual raspy, deadpan tone, she said, “I was beginning to think I’d been forgotten.”

“Nah, not forgotten.” Victor smiled and gestured toward the sitting area near the balcony. “Let me fill you in on what’s happening.” She followed him over and “sat” on a couch near him while Victor reviewed everything Trobban had told him. He also spent some time going over the events of the previous days, including a vague summary of his experience with the egg and his intention to visit Iron Mountain.

“Did you gain much from the natural treasure?” She eyed him speculatively, and Victor shrugged.

“I got a few ranks to my bloodline and learned a lot more about it.”

“Ever so mysterious, Victor. Some sort of titan, yes?”

“I told you that?”

“Come! You were shouting it in the challenge dungeon.” She frowned, shaking her head. “Or maybe it was afterward, at your party? In any event, either you or someone else mentioned to me that you had a titanic bloodline.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Victor looked at her, watching the realistic expressions traverse her ghostly face, wondering why a spirit would need to look like a person’s dead body. He knew that he could alter his appearance on the spirit plane. Could Arona alter hers on this one?

Her thoughts weren’t in line with his, it seemed. “Some cultures believe that the spirits of mountains are closely related to titans. Some cultures believe that mountains were titans.”

Victor’s eyes bulged at the idea. He peered out the window at the darkening slopes of the enormous mountain on the horizon. “That would be a big, pinché titan!” He looked back at Arona. “If that were the case, wouldn’t people know? I mean, if their spirits are in there, couldn’t they communicate?”

“They certainly could, but they’re called ‘sleeping’ gods or giants or titans for a reason. The ones who speak are mad with rage—volcanos.” She made a dry, raspy sigh and shrugged. “I speak only of legends and myths, but, Victor, there are people on my homeworld who think titans, themselves, are naught but myth. I think you’d take exception to that.”

“So you think the pull I feel might have more to do with my bloodline than my, uh, rage affinity?” Victor wanted to tell her about his “Herald of the Mountain’s Wrath” Class but wasn’t sure it was relevant, seeing as he’d already taken a different one.

“I don’t know. Perhaps the pull is strong because they’re both a factor.”

“I had a, uh, experience with another volcano.”

“Oh?”

Victor nodded, then related some of the story about his encounter with Hector atop his then-dormant volcano. When he finished, Arona looked pensive. “What is it?”

“What if this volcano seeks your aid in freeing it—waking it? You mentioned Elementalist monks, yes? What if the volcano doesn’t like being calmed? What if it has fury it wants to vent?”

“I don’t think a volcano that damn big and powerful would be held down by a handful of iron rankers. I don’t care what Class or affinity they have. If that thing wanted to blow its top, it would. I mean, maybe those guys are good at soothing it, but it’s definitely not captive.”

“I appreciate your respect for the mountain’s power, but Victor, how do you know it’s only a handful of iron rankers? What if it’s a hundred? What if some of them are steel seekers?”

Victor shook his head. “Arona, I felt the power of a volcano a tenth of Iron Mountain’s size. It was a force—something that made Ronkerz feel puny.”

“Well.” Arona pressed her dark lips together, shaking her head in defeat. “I hope you’re right, and I hope you’d do the right thing in any case. You wouldn’t trade a great spirit’s freedom for the lives of countless people, would you? You wouldn’t destroy the nation you’re supposed to be championing.” Her words were statements, but Victor could feel the questions behind them.

“I’m not a monster, Arona. I’m not like Vesavo.”

She leaned toward him, and Victor felt the air around him noticeably drop in temperature. “I believe you, Victor. Still, what if the mountain is a sleeping titan? What if it does want your help to free it? What if it promises you secrets and artifacts and natural treasures? What if—”

“Arona!” Victor stood, feeling agitated. He couldn’t help but raise his voice as he gesticulated, pacing toward the window and back. “You’re panicking about fucking ideas. You’re also worried because you’ve never had to depend on someone who wasn’t a power-mad nutcase. Listen to me: I’m not going to help that volcano explode. If it wants help with something, I’ll find a way to do it that won’t kill everyone and ruin Dar’s kingdom.” Victor laughed, shaking his head, but Arona didn’t seem to share his amusement. She looked chastened, and it made Victor feel guilty. How often had Vesavo cussed her out? How often had he yelled at her?

“Understood.”

“Oh, don’t do that now! Come on, Arona. You know what? I appreciate you mentioning all this. I appreciate you looking out for me. Because of what you said, I’m going to be a lot more careful when I go in there. If that pinché mountain used to be a titan or maybe only part of that myth is true and it’s somehow related to titans, then I need to be careful, but I also need to listen to my instincts, okay? There’s a reason I feel this pull, and it doesn’t feel bad.”

“Will you bring my phylactery or leave it here?”

Victor had intended to bring it, but did she not want him to? “What would you prefer?”

“Bring it! I may be able to offer you advice at a pivotal moment.”

“And if the volcano erupts and I’m killed? You’ll be trapped under a billion tons of rock and lava.”

“Do you think that will happen?”

“No.” Victor smiled.

“Then I will trust you.” Almost as if on cue, a knock sounded at his door, and Arona began to disperse. “I hope we speak again soon, Victor.”

“We will.” Victor watched her flow into her phylactery, picked up the bone, and sent it into storage. “Come in,” he called.

Bryn opened the door, and she and two men entered. She and one of the men wore dark leather armor with metallic breastplates, both embossed with golden roses. The other fellow wore black robes and carried a smooth black staff shod in rune-inscribed silver. Both men were young-looking, though Feist, the soldier—or squire, as Bryn had styled him—was far swarthier in appearance. His brown hair was long, his skin well-tanned, and his light-brown eyes peered about with curiosity. The other man, Florent, was pale with strange yellow eyes and bore a strained expression as though simply walking into the room was a chore.

“Your Grace, might I introduce my squire, Feist, and the esteemed Spatial Magus, Florent.” Bryn bowed, swooping her arm to indicate the two men. They bowed in turn, Feist far more gracefully than Florent.

“Good to meet you, men.” Victor turned to the window, pointing to the mountain in the distance. “Florent, can you make us a portal to that mountain, or do we need to travel there?”

“Milord, last week the queen bade me travel to the foothills of that mountain to learn a portal site. I did so, and now, if you wish, I can open one at your command.”

Victor’s eyes widened. He’d expected the man to say no. “She did that? That was pretty damn thoughtful, wasn’t it?”

“It was, Your Grace,” Bryn chimed in.

“I’d say so, milord.” Feist grinned, putting his fists on his hips.

“Well, it was I who made the journey…” Florent sighed, letting his protestation die on his lips. He stepped further into the room. “Shall I commence?”

Victor nodded. “Commence.”