Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

Hey There! 1900 days in, and so on the centennial is my little bit of extra haranguing for the readers!

If you're reading here, well, it's been nine months since this particular story started, and nearly 300 chapters in. I hope you are enjoying the change of pace for the video game setting I have here.

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“May we get on to more… political business, if I may?” King Borelean asked Kris, who just waved at him to continue. “The news that an Aluvian overran and mauled Viamont, then seized an Imperial throne is startling enough in its own way. That a princess of the Imperial Family that seems to have conquered most of Ispar has made it to Dereth is… somewhat disconcerting.”

“You’re worried if I have designs on your throne, conquest, and similar red-handed treacherous thoughts and ambitions,” Princess Kristie Rantha of said Imperial Family paraphrased for him, not at all offended.

“The matter had occurred to me,” he admitted, trying to read her and finding no hostility there.

“I’m not a ruler and will never be, Your Majesty,” Kristie replied easily. “My dad and my brothers are the ones who like being on top and getting things done. However, none of them like to rule just to rule. Ruling helps them get stuff done. If they couldn’t get stuff done, either they’d step down, or they’d react really badly to the ones in the way of getting stuff done, which,” she coughed into her hand, “happens more than anyone would like.

“There’s a huge difference between wanting power and being able to wield power well. My parents can both do the latter. Most of those people who want the same amount of power… can’t.”

The king could only nod to that. “I am far from the only paramount on these islands, and I have… issues.” He waved at the empty sleeve at his side. “Loss of my arm makes me weak and vulnerable in the eyes of many paramounts. However, they can’t muster any of the popular support to take the throne from me, as what did they sacrifice to succor the people here?” His smile was thin. “However, it makes them a rebellious and cantankerous lot, with little respect for the throne and what I do.”

“Power without responsibility,” Kris snickered. She gestured at me, and I popped up another bottle of pink wine and five delicate glasses. The cork popped as I handed it over, and she poured a glass for everyone, one by one, to precisely the same level, standing up to hand them over. “A toast, then: to Duty, to Loyalty, and arsehats who don’t know the meaning of either!”

“Hear, hear!” all three royals smiled in grim agreement, taking sips of the wine. It cleared away the coffee aftertaste nicely, mild and pleasant.

The beers poured out to the two guards were actually higher QL, but we weren’t going to tell the royals that.

“What are your intentions? Do you plan on taking service under the crown?” the Queen Mother asked calmly, studying the formidable young woman in front of her.

“If you’re asking for a fealty arrangement from me… no, that won’t happen. I’m psychologically unable to subordinate myself to you, Your Majesty. Force the issue, and I’ll force it right back.” Kris shook her head meaningfully, pale violet eyes hard and intense. “That said, I’m totally willing to work with you towards mutual goals, and I daresay you will find me the finest of allies to associate with. I’ve no ambitions on your throne. By everything I’ve seen, you’re doing a wonderful job for the people and you haven’t let your position get to your head.” Her gaze traveled over to the Princess, who flushed under the direct, hard stare of a woman who didn’t look any older than she did… and at the same time gave the impression of having waded through rivers of blood to stand where she did. “Hereditary royalty is extremely susceptible to arrogance of position, but you’ve a lot of very powerful people who are forcing you to stay on your toes and focus on what the core of leadership truly is.

“This state of affairs is likely to continue, and there is precious little you can do about it. In effect, you have two strata of people you have to deal with, and you are king of only one of them. Lose the support of the civilian population, and you will fall very quickly, indeed, and no hereditary bloodline is going to save you.”

The Queen Mother was first to speak up. “We are not so far removed from being adventurers ourselves, you realize?” she stated firmly, being the progenitor of said inherited bloodline.

“Well, that’s better than the robber barons and bandit kings who started most of the noble bloodlines in Aluvia and beyond, right?” Kris grinned, giving her a wink, which earned a snort of laughter from the elder matron. The Queen Mother was close to seventy years old now, and while youthful for her age, was definitely showing it, despite being a Paramount herself. Age simply was not kind, even with a superhuman stat line.

“I… have been required to Level up and improve myself ever since I could string a bow,” Princess Fan finally spoke up under Kristie’s stare. “The idea of being a flower on someone else’s arm while they took my father’s throne… does not sit well with me.”

Kris nodded slowly. “And yet, if someone capable of doing the job comes along and does take it when it is time, are you willing to let that go?”

Her fists clenched as she stared at Kris. She had her mother’s beauty, fairer skin than most Sho, and bright blue eyes the Sho also didn’t have, along with much paler hair, a brown so light it was almost dirty blonde. She also had an archer’s wide shoulders, arms, and hands, so she was no delicate persimmon.

“I…I do not know. I have trained all my life to succeed my father and do the job required of a monarch properly. If they were truly capable… I suppose I could swallow my pride and let it pass, but I would feel as if I had failed my family.”

“I am not denigrating that training, either,” Kris told her calmly. “It is a huge amount of stress, having to learn everything a warrior needs to learn, and then everything a ruler needs to learn on the side. Without those Levels, you will not gain respect. Without that education, you will not truly keep it. Rulership by the strongest fist only lasts until the next stronger or more clever fist comes around, a fact most paramounts don’t really realize. Levels do not mean leadership.”

“How did you handle it? It could be maddening, always being hurried from one set of lessons to the next!” Her exasperation showed through, although she wasn’t denying it was effective.

“Ranthas are perversely chronic workaholics and overachievers,” I supplied before Kris could reply. “The Imperial tutors were infamously overworked and barely able to keep up with their charges. It can be very difficult teaching children who are smarter than you are, and they all learned that the hard way.” I raised an eyebrow in thought and turned to her. “That’s why you went into genealogy. You must have been bored out of your skull and wanted something that would suck up endless amounts of time!”

“Shhhhh!” Kris put her finger to her lips. “Everyone thinks it is because I was being as merciless as my mom and doing it so I could track tax evaders better!”

“Her tax audits were legendary. Ah, the red… ink that flowed when she and her accountants went to visit someone…” My eyes glazed over at some of the stories Shamira had heard.

“Conversely, the people who paid their taxes never regretted it. Mother was very good at generating business opportunities for those wise enough to believe in what they were trying to do,” Kris smiled smugly.

“All that money flying around and multiplying itself once she cracked enough heads so that they stopped hoarding it for themselves,” I nodded. “But! The difference there is no paramounts. I imagine the paramounts pay jack-all in taxes, Your Majesty.”

“They are loud in acclaims of their wealth and miserly in parting with it, yes,” the king agreed with a sigh. “It is as you say. They sit on what wealth they squirrel away and do little to create more, only moving if there is money to be made for themselves and otherwise withholding their strength and influence. The only thing which seems to motivate them is new paths to power, shame, or guilt.”

“Save a rare few with a knot of vengeance burning deep in their gut that they won’t let go,” Kristie agreed firmly. “Those are the fellows I’ve been roping in, like Lord Mick. They don’t want your throne. They want back what they lost, and if they can’t have it, justice for those they lost, in one form or another.”

“And your intentions?” the king asked her archly.

“I intend to reclaim the lands of Dereth for Isparians and their allies, and punish all those who thought their deeds during the Fall were perfectly justified and reasonable. I’m going to strengthen the Artificing, spiritual, and mundane foundation of the people here, while Ryin works on the spellcasting side of things Then I'll start pressing back the creatures who thought we’d run into a hole and were going to hide forever.”

The royals considered her expression and demeanor, and could not help but be impressed. The determination in her voice and icy resolution in her pale violet eyes were hard to speak out against.

She was a Null who’d just said where she was going to take a stand, and fuck the whole world if it tried to sway her!

“How qualified are you to undertake such a large task?” he asked, and I had to look away not to laugh to myself. The royals did notice it, while Kris just smiled thinly.

“I am likely the most skilled Warlord among the Isparian peoples here, extremely experienced in actions tactical, operational, strategic, and logistical. I can run an entire army, train them, command them with a proficiency and skill you’re going to be no more familiar with than the Viamontians are, and build them into a force the other species on this island aren’t going to be able to stand against.

“On a personal level… I am a Null Forsaken. Do you know what that is?” she asked them bluntly.

The royals looked at one another. “It sounds… burdensome?” the Queen Mother finally ventured. “Forsaken is a very… judgmental term?”

“It means I have a rigid soul, and cannot wield any form of magic without a tool interface,” Kris stated firmly. “So, I cannot Cast any spells of any kind, or any school. I can, however, wield magic items designed to work for Forsaken. Most importantly,” she smiled, and they stared at her eight canines, and the sudden, dangerous impression of a beast ready to spring, “I am extremely resistant to magic. Considerably more than your own spell resistance is likely to give. I can enforce that resistance to magic upon the world in various ways.

“However, that lack of magical ability means that I focus on mastery of mundane skills to a level you Casters do not. That is especially true in regards to profound fighting styles.

“I can and have beaten Lord Mick at swordplay, despite his being a paramount and specialist in the claymore, and he has little chance of besting me in return. He simply does not have the skills in profound martial combat to defeat me.”

“That… sounds extremely interesting,” King Borelean murmured, placing his arm on the table and leaning forward. “What does it entail?”

“Power systems.” They were startled when I broke in, their eyes snapping over to me. “There are four known systems of power mortals can tap.”