Sheela Vorthe

  “You said what?!”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Thousands of years of Dark Ones, and she had to deal with the most unpredictable of them all? None of them did a tiny fraction of what this one did. Yet none of them came close to being as dangerous as Jerome — well, maybe except for one but that was after he became the Dark One.

  “Reverse it!” she yelled. “What excuse do you think I can give to her mother to justify this?!”

  The culprit in question stood in front of the fireplace, glaring at the fire with those eerie, silver-swirling eyes of his.

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “There may have been something I didn’t account for when I made the gem.”

  “Well, Vorthe is paying you to find solutions and not create more problems, so you better find a solution to this before Milena finds out! Else she would have your head for binding her daughter to yourself, or she will damn near try!”

  She walked towards the door, wanting to leave as his presence was irritating her. She was unwilling to hear whatever else he had to say. This was a total mess. A mess that could very well cost Vorthe. No matter what, she had to make sure that news of this didn’t get out.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, just before she stepped out of the door.

  “What?!” she snapped.

  He threw her a sigil. “That’s a key.”

  “Crude,” she said as she examined it. “What does it do?”

  “The horses are behind the lock it opens; a thousand of them!”

  That got her attention. A thousand? How was that even possible? Where had he been keeping a thousand draft horses with no sign of them? He would’ve needed to feed them daily. Thankfully, the Church’s horses weren’t raised on ascended energy.

  “So where is the location of this lock?”

  “Well, as it is, draft horses are quite rare in Vorthe. What with the Principality being the only ones on the continent that knows how to rear them.”

  He smiled at her, giving her a knowing look. If he wasn’t so damn handsome to look at, she would have considered caving his face in, which would soil her reputation, so no outbursts of rage.

  “I have some other clients willing to take them off my hands so it seems an auction is underway. But again, you need to qualify to enter.”

  “How much?”

  “Now we’re talking!” His smirk grew into a toothy grin. He even had beautiful teeth. “Since Vorthe is my first client for this transaction, I’m willing to sell at cost.”

  Sheela scowled at him. “We’re your only client as far as I know. You think the Itakar’s can hold their heads high when our royal name is proclaimed?”

  He shrugged. His nonchalance was beginning to get on her nerves. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m willing to take a loss for you, my most consistent clients.”

  “Let’s get this over with! It’s not like draft horses cost more than twenty mids a stallion.”

  “Twenty mids, really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Well, a little birdie of mine told me it can cost more.”

  “Well your little birdie lied.”

  “In an auction, of course.”

  She glowered at him. “How much does it cost to enter this auction?”

  “1200 mids… small change for the First Matron of the Academia of Sanctum.”

  Her frown deepened. If he thought a few choice words of praise was enough to blow her ego out of proportion, he was in for a rude awakening! But she would play along.

  “Hmph!” she humphed. “You call that an entrance fee?”

  With a wave of her hand, water-attributed mid grade coins materialised in a small heap at his feet, twinkling like blue stars in the sky. He looked down, a little surprised.

  “What, have you never seen someone use their storage rings from a distance before? Hmph!”

  He smiled at her. And then the mids by his feet vanished, like they were never there.

  “I’ve never transacted in water-essence crystal coins before. They feel… soothing to the senses.”

  The sigil in her hand grew warm the next moment and she looked down to see it glowing mutely.

  “Congratulations, Matron. You are now an official participant in the auction. The time’s sun down on the morrow. Don’t be late.”

  She looked up to find that he vanished after his short congratulatory speech — which sounded quite formal; she had never thought of him as someone who could handle something like that. He was too rough around the edges for something so gentlemanly.

  Sheela walked out of the room, angry she didn’t get the last word. By right, and as the First Matron of the Academia, she was his superior. But he acted like they were of the same status!

  “You know this can’t be kept a secret for long, do you not?” Ivar said, appearing beside her and walking alongside her. “The boy is proving to be extremely dangerous. I can already see factions forming in the Curia Regis. Some will call for his head, soon enough. After all, it is much safer to raise a new fated Dark One than to keep a dangerously unpredictable one.”

  “Dangerously unpredictable is an understatement, Ivar. But we cannot get rid of him. Only the Sovereign has that power. And something tells me he would be unwilling to do so. Plus he has become extremely invaluable to Vorthe, to our growth, and to the war efforts.”

  “I need to inform Damien. The Master of Shadows would want to know of this.”

  “Which means Milena would be here soon enough. I need to inform the Princess.”

  Ivar vanished when she reached her quarters. She quickly stepped in and activated the soundproofing scripts she had carved everywhere. She took out her projector and activated the blue palm-sized gem with a strand of her essence. It hit her that Jerome was the one who named the damn thing a ‘projector’, albeit a different variant of it. She couldn’t help but think how he was steadily ingraining himself in Vorthe’s political and structural systems.

  The boomsticks had done a great good since he began making them. They had recorded no death or injury on this side of the war since he armed their Sprouts and Blanks with those contraptions. Soon the Nediti would help transport thousands of them west to the deadlands, and then this war could be practically over in a matter of days.

  “Matron?” The Princess’ voice brought her out of her musings.

  “Oh, sorry Princess, I was… thinking.” She looked at the projected image of the Princess, standing beside her and at the changes that had occurred to her chambers. It didn’t quite look like her chambers but a mixture of hers and the Princess’. The Princess looked as stunning as always, noble in appearance, yet of a humble demeanor.

  “It is alright, Matron. How is the south?”

  “It is going as expected. But there have been some… unexpected developments.” She went on to narrate all that had happened in detail.

  “So you mean to tell me that Jerome…”

  “Yes, Princess,” she said. “And he doesn’t have a clue how to reverse it.”

  Princess Aeldra stood in thought for a while before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “Do you think this is like the Church’s bond between Judges and Messengers?”

  Sheela didn’t want to believe it was but she couldn’t help herself. Her mind filled in all the details she wanted to avoid at all cost.

  “If it is, then it is much worse than it seems,” she said. “The bond between Judges and Messengers can only be broken through the death of one or the other. Our people will resist such a bond, Princess, with all of their being. Even if it means going against the Empire. It’s a shame really. The gem is the key to making our sacred artists truly on par with Messengers — whether Sprouts or Blank.”

  “Really? It can make them that powerful?”

  “Yes, Princess. You should see Ash, a Blank. Her core grew denser within a few days and now she can go toe to toe with any Sprout in Vorthe.” The shock on the Princess’ face didn’t go unnoticed. “And also, the gem in their rings are what makes it impossible to detect the fire essence being used when they pull the trigger of the boomsticks.”

  “Explain.”

  “I only noticed when Layla got her gem. Her boomstick glowed like theirs just before their aerial battle with the Messengers. And this was only possible because she got that gem.”

  “Is there a qualitative difference between the gem and the ring? Because you sound like there is.”

  “Oh, I’m absolutely sure there is, Princess, but we cannot demand it of him.”

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  The Princess’ eyes narrowed on her. “Don’t.”

  “I was not going to. And I’m assuming the gems are in short supply. Layla’s gem was the purest thing I’ve ever seen. It is hard to imagine it was grown by a Sprout. The level of skill and knowledge — not to talk, foundation — that it would take to do that is… beyond us, I’m afraid.”

  Princess Aeldra sighed. “I’ll have to report this to the Sovereign. But it is quite interesting. Chances are he already knows he can create better gems so let’s assume so. But you say this gem made Layla… more?”

  Sheela frowned. “Yes, Princess. She’s a lot more powerful than she was before. I bet she’s even as powerful as she was wearing the Sovereign’s aura.”

  “What is it?” Princess Aeldra asked.

  “Huh? Ahem. Nothing,” she said.

  “It’s not ‘nothing’, Matron. You were frowning. You don’t agree with me, do you?”

  “Well, it’s just… the Sovereign is…”

  “He’s a lot more lenient with Jerome, unlike with his predecessors?”

  Sheela nodded her head. “I’m not judging. It is only an observation, Princess. I get that Jerome is special and all. In fact, he is the first ever Fated Dark One with a true name. That in and of itself is a wonder to the initiated.”

  “That’s fair. But there are things only the Sovereign knows, and sees. And only he can decide whether this Fated is worth keeping or not. Nevertheless, your views are well noted and will not be used against you. I’m sure many in the Curia Regis will have similar opinions…”

  Sheela bowed. “That is good to know, Princess.”

  “In the meantime, try to prevent Milena from beheading him. We still need his help to win the war the way the Sovereign has planned it out. If he could correct the… ‘flaw’?” — the Princess shrugged — “in his gems, even better.”

  “Yes, Princess.” Sheela didn’t believe the instant bond was a flaw though. It seemed to be purposeful, working as intended. And she was sure the Princess knew this as well.

  The projection winked out and her room returned to normal. The gem in her hand cooled going from a soft golden colour back to the blue it was before activation. Sheela sighed, walking to her bed and slumping on it. She materialized Jerome’s sigil in her hand, turning it every which way to find a way into its core.

  The thing was air tight. The brat had made a piece of flat stone into one of the most valuable artifacts someone of her status could ever hope to craft. She was not a crafter by any means; she was a knowledge seeker. But in all her years of seeking and discovering knowledge, she had never come across a sigil so well made before. She couldn’t even locate the core, talk more, use her mental energy to find cracks she could use to get to it.

  The sigil kept her all night and late into the morning as she tried and failed again and again to crack it open without destroying it. She gave up once it came time to go for the auction. The sigil guided her to the field where the Fated had tested the flying boots.

  “Couldn’t you find somewhere better to have an auction?” she grumbled. She was used to auction houses in big cities, where the organizers lavished comfort on her like she was the Princess of Vorthe herself. And here she was coming for an auction in a forest.

  The moment she crossed the boundary between the forest and the field, her surroundings changed. A behemoth stood before her, dwarfing everything around. She almost fell on her butt out of fear, almost screamed as well but she held her tongue. That would have been embarrassing. On focusing her vision, she found it was an obstacle course.

  “Welcome, esteemed Lady Sheela Vorthe. I’m glad you could make it,” a young female voice reached her from everywhere. It sounded like Ash’s voice. “Please take your right toward the seating area.”

  She looked around her, noticing a seating area. The whole place was like a humongous amphitheatre, but with very few seats to make up the seating area. The earthy tone of the whole structure gave the place an ancient feel as she walked in the direction given. She reached the seating area, appreciating what she saw.

  At least the brat knew how to treat people.

  Plush high-backed chairs upholstered with fine red velvet and adorned with gold, greeted her. She took a seat, noticing the side table beside her. It was decorated with treats on a golden tray and those treats called to her.

  “Are these chocolate?” she asked the brat sitting on her right. He was smiling at her, almost mockingly. Her face must have shown her surprise. Why did that remind her so much about the Sovereign?

  “Among other sweets, yes,” he replied. He snapped his fingers and a woman in a maid’s outfit approached with a bottle in hand, raised above her head in a ceremonious manner of some kind. The maid served her the wine in a clear glass cup. She took a sniff of the wine, appreciating its scent.

  “It seems you are a man of many talents, Jerome,” someone said. Sheela opened her eyes to see the Matriarch of the Itakar seated on the other side of Jerome. Those long silver-white tresses and steel-blue eyes were unmistakable. She was also dressed for the occasion — in leather pants and riding boots. Was she hoping to ride one of the horses? When… how did she even get an invite? “My name is Arwen Itakar and I have heard so much about you.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Esteemed Matriarch.” He bowed a little in his seat. “Your children have been a joy to work with.”

  Sheela didn’t like the fact that he was comporting himself with this much elegance, winning a smile from the Matriarch. She took in his attire. A long dark blue coat, like that of the Elite Judges of the Church but it seemed tailored for the occasion and not for battle. He looked good — and smelled good — if she was to admit to herself.

  “Matron, you must know the Matriarch?” he asked.

  She calmed herself before saying, “Light be with you, Matriarch. It’s an honor to be graced with your presence.”

  “And you too, Matron. My daughter here” — she gestured toward the others in the theatre that had come with her — “ and her friend were insistent on my coming for this auction, and I must say, I am glad I came. This” — she looked around — “is something some never see in their lifetime.”

  “Hmm,” Sheela responded. “To think a Sprout could create a void space. What else can you do, Jerome?”

  He gave her that winning smile of his but didn’t answer. “Why don’t we focus on the show, esteemed guests? There is much to see tonight. Help yourself to some treats, drink some wine. The night is going to be long and fun.”

  The Matriarch helped herself to some treats while they talked. But the moment Jerome motioned toward the obstacle course, the thing began moving. Parts made out of stone and wood groaned from the weight of their size, a gate opened on one side and the draft horses began trooping out.

  They were massive things!

  “Incredible!” the Matriarch said, impressed. “I’ve only ever seen one of these from afar. The Church never sells their horses.”

  The horses began going through the obstacles. Sheela noticed they had been groomed quite well and their hooves trimmed. Wherever did he find the knowledge to do that? She suspected from his previous life but she couldn’t confront him about it. That was one thing she had been forbidden to ask about.

  “I must say I’m impressed,” the Matriarch went on. “My daughter said you’ve had the horses with you since before the Battle of Black Gate. How have you been grooming them?”

  “I have my means, Esteemed. I’m not all that knowledgeable about horses but I had to learn, so I can put on this show for you.” He gestured with his hands.

  The Matriarch rolled her eyes, smiling. Sheela gnashed her teeth, reeling in anger. The brat was laying it on thick. She had never met someone who could act as well as Jerome. He was a two-faced bastard!

  “Really?” the Matriarch said, excitement bubbling in her eyes. “Well, let me educate you!”

  “Mother do you have to?” her daughter complained beside her. She was also seated in one of the high-backed chairs, munching on a cake. Her companions sat behind her and her twin brother sat by her side.

  “Of course, I have to.” She waved off her daughter and faced Jerome. “Draft horses come in different breeds. These are the Therrican Draught. Bred by the once great Empire of Therrica, the very land the Principality of Light now occupies. They breed them with essence I believe, which makes them more than normal horses. They can weigh up to 3,000 pounds and eat a lot, at least one hundred and eighty pounds of feed a day! It takes a lot to care for one, which is surprising since you said you know nothing about them.”

  She gave him a suspicious look, to which he shrugged. He was looking too relaxed under the stare of the Matriarch. Another Sprout would have wet his pants.

  “What have you been feeding them?”

  “Oh, I started with grass but after a while they refused to eat it — they drink lots of water though. I then started making my own feed: fruits, legumes — lots of legumes, some roots, and grasses. The exact ratio of the mixtures they prefer took some time to figure out. But I did figure it out. It was an experimental success, if you ask me.”

  “For a thousand horses?” Sheela blurted out. She was the First Matron of Academia, damnit! And a Sage! She shouldn’t be so confused in the presence of a Sprout. But how could he have cared for a thousand draft horses all by himself if he was crafting boomsticks at the same time?

  “Well, it’s more than that. I intend to keep some for myself.”

  The Matriarch snorted. “And when will you find the time to ride them? You are a Sprout, Jerome, living in the south where the air in your lungs is warm and soothing, and travel is safe. If you ever lived in the north, you’d understand what I’m talking about. In addition to that, I’ve heard you need lessons.”

  Did the Matriarch just get over the fact that the brat had more than a thousand draft horses? Sheela looked between them trying to figure out how much the Matriarch knew of Jerome more than she did.

  “I assure you, Matriarch, the horses I don’t sell will be put to good use. Whether I ride them or not should be no concern of yours.” He glared at the Matriarch’s daughter. “Selene?”

  “Jerome,” she greeted back.

  “I see you are unable to keep a secret.”

  “Why, I never heard a secret. It was news to me that you couldn’t ride, but I wasn’t the only one who heard it.” She smiled sweetly at him before popping a chocolate candy into her mouth.

  Jerome growled low and sat back. “And when am I getting those lessons?”

  “About that?” the Matriarch said, and Sheela knew she was ready to fleece him dry. Serves him right. “I would love to invite you to Iss Valor—”

  “I already have plans to come, Matriarch.”

  “I know, I know. But I would love you to come spend some time in the city, to take in the sights and relax a little. I can tell you have been working nonstop. The riding lessons can be taken there, and instead of it being a chore, it will be fun. You like having fun, don’t you?”

  What?! Sheela couldn’t believe her ears. An open invitation to go to the City of Ice?!

  The brat in question nodded in thought. “That’s a great idea. When I come, I’ll spend some time there.”

  The Matriarch beamed, even her daughter looked like her spirits were lifted. “It’s settled then! Let’s see what more your horses can do!”

  As they enjoyed the show the horses put on, Sheela couldn’t help but wonder how much the Matriarch knew. She recalled that Jerome had spent time with the Itakars in Terra Praeta. That must have been where they learned he was a daemon. Even at that, he wasn’t famous and hadn’t been truly tried and tested. But the Matriarch was choosing not to question the authenticity of everything around them, choosing instead to have faith in the skills of a Sprout. Where did such stable belief come from?

  The night wore on. The horses pulled heavy objects, showcasing their strength, stumped on other objects, kicked, and raced up sloped terrain. They even jumped over chasms of wide pits. They were truly remarkable creatures. They did all of this in sets of hundreds until all one thousand of them had gone through all available obstacle courses.

  At long last, the bidding game was about to begin. Sheela had identified many of them she wanted to buy for the royal family but the Matriarch would have her eyes on her prizes as well. The exception was that she had Vorthe’s treasury backing her and the Matriarch’s resources couldn’t go up against the vastness and depth of Vorthe’s.

  Life-sized projections of the first hundred horses were put on display before them and grouped in twenties, according to their strengths. Each herd was numbered for easy bidding. They had grouped the more powerful ones together with the average ones so bidders would purchase them all. It didn’t matter who won at the end of the day, the auction house incurred no losses.

  Typical, she thought. It seemed Jerome had some experience in this department as well.

  Sheela had the image of each and every individual horse memorized now, including those she wished to buy. The golden-eyed woman from Jerome’s team walked onto a large stone platform that lifted itself to hover a foot above the ground — another marvel of artifact refining.

  “Ahem!” the strange woman coughed to get their attention. Sheela realized she had been staring too long at the platform. She hadn’t sensed essence from it. And she would have loved to study it as well. Damnit! Everything the brat did was a marvel and a distraction wrapped up in a gift bag that was kept out of arm’s reach!

  “You choose your people well, Jerome,” the Matriarch said, eyeing the tall woman wearily. Sheela could understand. Nyx gave her goosebumps and sent her senses into alarm. The golden-eyed beauty was like an apex predator that looked at people as though she was eyeing her next meal.

  “We’ll be starting off with the rules,” Nyx began.