Path of the King - Chapter 15 (Patreon)

The inside of the helicopter cabin was early silent. The usual roar of the engine and whir of the blades was muted by magecraft until only a

The inside of the helicopter cabin was early silent. The usual roar of the engine and whir of the blades was muted by magecraft until only a dull hum could be felt through the seats, and the other three occupants sat as still as statues, barely daring to breathe as though they hoped I wouldn’t notice them if they didn’t move. 

I was happy to let them stew; this was hilarious. Senior Director Sarialita Edelfelt sat across from me, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world than here. She was a stately, middle-aged woman (though it was often hard to tell with magi––she could have easily passed for mid-twenties), her blonde curls bound back in a no-nonsense bun and dressed in a uniform much like those of her agents. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and she sat straight-backed and expressionless, but I could see the tiny tremors she was trying and failing to suppress, taste the stench of fear rolling off her in constant waves like heat from a bonfire. 

She was the woman who’d called Nora to update her, the one who’d disrespected me and my…siblings. She was also the owner of this lovely helicopter she’d rushed over to pick me up in, along with the fine, if somewhat ill-fitting, clothing I was now wearing. 

It was a good start at an apology, but only that. A start.

I did respect that she’d shown up herself, enough that I didn’t feel too much need to show her the error of her ways. She was punishing herself plenty well with only minimal help from me. Her attitude was understandable, and if I didn’t have a personal reputation to build and an assumed one to uphold, I might have laughed it off entirely. As it was, I appreciated the balls it took to personally fly out alongside a fire-suppression team to transport me back to civilization. She could have just as easily run and hid, but she hadn’t.

Beside me sat Nora Aaberg, who’d made such a valiant attempt to bring me in. The bench seat I’d claimed didn’t really have room for both of us so she was squished tightly against my side and her face had frozen in an adorable, big-eyed deer-in-headlights expression when I’d gestured for her to join me.

She was doing a much better job of pretending she wasn’t actively contemplating the merits of jumping out of the helicopter right now than her boss, but not by much. Not that she would get far if she tried. I’d grown rather fond of the blonde agent in the past few hours. She was ambitious, a talented magus, a gorgeous young woman, and had both a spine and a firm understanding of her place in the world—a rare and precious combination of factors.

I was rather considering poaching her. I’d have need of capable agents soon, and there were aspects of the Authority I could feel lying dormant in the back of my mind that would need testing. I doubted the Society would make a fuss about it. More than likely they would be eager for me to take her off their hands, happy to pay such a light price to get away with attacking a Campione. My eldest sister had destroyed entire organizations for looking at her wrong, much less actually acting against her august self. 

And then there was Jacapo, sitting as far from me as he could without escaping to the cockpit. The man had said perhaps a dozen total words since he’d surrendered and that didn’t seem likely to change anytime soon. He had his eyes downcast and was clutching the trio of bangles he’d used to focus his magic in both hands. Whenever I looked at him he recoiled, an instinctive reaction that made me wonder if he was acquainted with one of my new siblings. 

I wasn’t idle as we flew. I’d co-opted the director’s cell phone—she clearly wasn’t putting it to good use and it had a full keyboard unlike Nora’s cheaper model—and my fingers flew across the tiny analog keyboard as I reached out to some of the unwitting servants I’d built up over the past few years. I made sure to avoid saying anything overly private––I was pretty confident that Edelfelt was about as tech literate as a trained monkey, but most mage associations employed at least a handful of people who kept up to date with modern technology––but I wasn’t overly worried about the Society moving against my assets anytime in the near future. 

Their value had dropped considerably now that I’d soon be able to properly call upon my family’s resources, and would only continue to fall once I had time to properly establish myself, but as long as they had remained loyal I was most certainly not going to just throw them away. Dalia had been right. There were plenty of uses for loyal, well-educated mundanes. 

(It felt like a lead weight off my chest to think that I no longer counted myself among them.)

Some, those who had truly proven their worth and devotion, I might even bring with me back home. Revealing the existence of the moonlit world to mundanes was strictly forbidden by most associations, but like all laws such concerns fell away in the face of true strength. My peers would likely stop me if I tried to go fully public—not that I would—but no one would raise a fuss about a handful of trusted retainers. 

And if it turned out that they were like Sarah, deceiving me with sweet words and actions while harboring rebellion in their hearts? There were always uses for such traitors as well.

We touched down in a small, private airfield a short distance outside of Oslo. I didn’t have to look out through the helicopter’s windows to know we weren’t alone. It had been roughly six hours since my rebirth; plenty of time for the news to travel. 

I met Edelfelt’s eyes and jerked my head towards the door. She hurriedly tore away the five-point harness fastening her to her seat and rose, brushing the wrinkles from her uniform as she began to make her way towards the door. 

I’d already put her out of my mind, closing my eyes and drawing in a slow, measured breath. The air was cool and dry, carrying a note of artificial staleness that mixed with the stench of fear and the tang of sweat new and old. 

I could feel them now, outside, two-dozen sparks of varying intensity, sharp and controlled, yet flavoring the world around them with their presence. So far I’d met agents and a single mid-level administrator, but outside waited men and women who’d dwarfed me authority just hours before like I’d dwarfed the lowliest scullery maids. Their power and poise reflected that; instead of fear I tasted apprehensions and, in a few cases, curiosity mixed with absolute confidence. 

There would be representatives of the Society of Sidhr of course, but enough time had passed that there would no doubt be others as well. I’d read that the rebirth of a new Campione could be felt all around the world if you knew what you were looking for. Certainly there would be at least one representative of the Witenagemot—they maintained constant diplomatic contact with all the other associations in Europe—but perhaps also someone from the Clock Tower, the Greenwich Assembly (who had been fully pushed from England itself decades ago but maintained a great deal of influence on the continent), one of Italy’s too-many Sisters, and whatever other representatives from further afield happened to already be in the region on other business.

I knew with bone-deep certainty that none outside were my peers, nor my siblings. Not unless they were veiled with Authority or Mystery beyond the ken of normal magi. That was…good. I was certainly looking forward to meeting some of my new siblings, but not yet. Meetings between two Campiones ended in violence almost as often as meetings between a Campione and a heretic god, and I was not too proud to admit that I needed time before I was ready to compete on such a level. Time to establish myself. Time to familiarize myself with my new abilities. Time to prepare.

But first, it was time to make a proper first impression on the world. I would have preferred to be wearing something a tad more appropriate, but that was a small matter. No one truly judged a Campione on appearance. Gáe Bolg was all the ornamentation I needed—simultaneously a show of force and a powerful symbol of wealth and resources. And the rest?

My lips moved without conscious direction, words rising to the surface at my silent request. They felt as much a part of me as my name, though I’d never spoken or heard them spoken before in full.

They started off much as Baldr’s had, but the flavor of them felt different on my tongue and lips, colder and sharper than the god’s hot fury. I spoke quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper, but the whole world seemed to hold its breath. 

“I am the sun!”

Beside me, Nora flinched, tightening the strap she’d been trying to pull loose. The director tripped over her own feet and nearly fell, yelping as she caught herself against the wall. Jacapo just froze, both hands trembling as they held the two halves of his own harness. Only Nora was close enough to truly hear me speak, but anyone with a wit of magical training would be able to sense what I was doing in a small, enclosed space like the cabin.

“I am the unending heat that burns away the unworthy and bakes the earth!”

My heartbeat began to quicken and in my lap Gáe Bolg seemed to come alive, an imperceptible shiver running down the shaft of blood red wood. Power—magic, my magic, not strength drawn from the world, but drawn from within me like a geyser boiling up from the depths of the earth—rose in my chest and I felt a phantom electric tingle as it ran through my once-malformed circuits. There was so much of it, more than every spark I could feel surrounding the helicopter put together, more than I could have ever imagined. It felt utterly endless and was so bright it was like the sun had risen behind my irises.

“I am the blinding light that beguiles the unwary and bleaches bones!”

A bright, fractal-ember emerged from that power, a facet of the divine bound to my command. It asked a wordless question, an impression of myself, my spear resting across my lap, and Nora pressed against my side. I answered it with a feather-light touch, guiding it with a cupped hand into my heart. 

“Gaze upon my divine splendor and weep!”

The ember burst within my chest like a star going supernova, filling me from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair with brilliant rays of sunlight. It pressed against my skin like I was a balloon ready to burst and for a breath it seemed like my body was simply too small to contain such a volume of power. Then the moment passed and the sunlight melted into me, coiling snakelike through bone and muscle and fat to become one with my flesh. 

It was like I had been born anew…again. The sensation of power was utterly indescribable. I felt invincible, my body impossibly strong and brimming with vigor. I was the center of the solar system, the most splendid jewel in all of the worlds. I could do anything, fight anyone!

I basked in the beautiful lie, letting it wash through me for several long moments. At the back of my mind I could feel something like a new limb and I carefully flexed it. The light within me flared and I felt my lungs and cheeks tingle as impurities in the air were burned away. 

I relaxed, the light within me dimming back to its original brilliance, and opened my eyes. The inside of the cabin felt brighter. Much brighter. I looked down and realized that my hand was glowing, a pale flicker of sunlight pouring out from within my dark skin and making it seem even darker in contrast. It wasn’t just my hand either, all of my skin was glowing, filling the helicopter with as much light as the noonday sun. 

I turned to Nora and she flinched back when our eyes met. Her eyes were watering, and she had to squint just to look at me, but her cheeks were flushed and her mouth hung slightly open. I glanced at my reflection in the polished metal of a door and found two points of light like high beams peering back at me.

I frowned and focused, turning the Authority over in my mind until abruptly the glow dropped down to something still clearly supernatural, but not quite blinding. The strength and vitality radiating through me faded slightly, as did a faint breeze I hadn’t even noticed tickling the inside of my skull. I made a mental note to practice. I thought I mostly understood what it could do, but that knowledge was purely instinctive, with no true experience to back it up. That was unacceptable.

For now however, it would have to do. I removed my own harness and stood up. I had to hunch my back slightly and still my hair brushed the ceiling, and I had to carefully angle Gáe Bolg to avoid putting a hole in anything or anyone. I caught Edelfelt watching me out of the corner of her eye from where she stood by the door and gestured for her to get on with things.

She startled as though I’d jumped out at her, then calmed herself, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pushed the door fully open. A cool breeze blew into the cabin, carrying with it just a hint of gasoline, and she glanced briefly at the gathered throng, then carefully dropped down onto the tarmac. Stepping away from the door, she half turned and gestured towards the opening. Her voice was loud and controlled, solemn. “Presenting his majesty Keon Hephaestius, the Seventh Campione.”

I paused for a long moment in the doorway, framing myself against the dimly lit interior of the helicopter. Sunlight danced across my skin and cast my features in stark lines, Gáe Bolg leaned casually against my shoulder and my hand wrapped loosely around its haft. 

There were twenty-three people waiting for us out on the tarmac. Three were clearly menials just waiting for the helicopter itself and looking painfully aware that they did not belong as they stood off to the side. The rest were all mages—at a glance a pretty even split between magi and other spell casters, though it wasn’t always easy to tell. They stood in clusters, forming a loose arc facing the landing pad and surrounding a trio of mages dressed in blue and white and bearing the Society of Sedhr’s crest—a raven clutching four rings in its talons.

I recognized just under half of them by name, and several others looked familiar from my long ago lessons which spoke to the caliber of individuals who had come out to witness my first semi-public appearance as a Campione. There were also a few faces that I didn’t just recognize, but knew well, and despite the events of the day I felt an electric thrill of excitement shivered down my spine. 

I scanned the crowd, mentally cataloguing the mages and the organizations they represented. Two of the three Society representatives at the front of the group were members of the organization’s nine-man ruling council—Orinis Gelberbrook, a middle aged magus with striking red hair and a matching goatee worthy of a grand vizier, and Anastasia Anavovina, a witch of indeterminate age in the guise of a green-eyed pre-teen—while the third was a heavyset man in a uniform much like Edelfelt’s. 

The rest came from further afield. The Clock Tower had sent three, all magi, including one of their Lords. That he was the lowest ranking member to hold such a title might have been construed as an insult, but it was nice to see a familiar face. Waver Velvet looked much as I remembered from the first time I’d seen his face a lifetime ago, and he was joined by his young apprentice and what I took to be one of the Clock Tower’s infamous Sealing Designation Enforcers. I forced myself not to stare at the slight, cloaked and hooded girl standing behind the Lord. 

The Wizard Marshal was said to be protective of his charges, and that was not a board I was ready to kick just yet.

The Witenagamot had only one representative, and I recognized him as their semi-permanent envoy to the Society—a relatively unremarkable magus but one known to be unusually skilled in hermetic magic as well. Beside him stood a final magus from the British Isles, representing the third major power that called the territory home. I didn’t recognize the man himself, but he wore the symbol of the Royal Arsenal emblazoned proudly on his chest.

My eyes passed over the next cluster, only lingering briefly on what I thought might be an Einzbern homunculus escorting one of the magi. Central Europe was broken up into more than a dozen territories that only loosely aligned with mundane borders, each controlled by a different mage association. They bickered and fought constantly, jockeying for members, resources, and territory. They were not weak by any means, but none were powerful enough to dominate the rest, nor did they have a single power like a Campione, True Magician, or similar anchor to rally around. I recognized several faces, but no one was truly worth paying attention to.

Then there were the Italians. To my surprise, I could see representatives of three of the peninsula’s ‘Seven Sisters’, a collective of seven fiercely competitive mage organizations that always seemed to put aside their differences when outside rivals came calling. There were five of them in total—two from Olden Dame, two from the Bronze-Black Cross, and one from the Clear-Sky Eagles.

I only recognized one of the mages, but that was more than enough to draw my attention. A waifish, almost fae-like girl with long silver hair pulled back into a high ponytail and big blue eyes stood near the middle of the group of Italians. A sheathed saber hung at her hip and, though she looked to be at least a decade younger than the other mages around her, they were the ones who looked ready to defer to her.

Who else could it be other than Liliana Kranjcar, great knight of the Bronze-Black Cross? She looked slightly different than I remembered her, more muscular and with a handful of faded scars and imperfections visible on her body, but that was only to be expected. There was only so much of a real person’s essence that could be captured in a highly stylized art form. I rather liked it.

I wonder how different the real Liliana would act compared to the character. I looked forward to finding out.

I pulled my gaze away and brushed over most of the remaining members of the crowd. There didn’t seem to be anyone from the Greenwitch Assembly, nor any of the Western European associations. There was however a single Chinese mage wearing a pristine white gi who I guessed represented my new eldest sister’s Holy Cult of Five Mountains. He watched my every move with sharp eyes, assessing me even as I looked back at him. 

Finally, at the end of the line, an elderly woman with skin even darker than mine stood alone. Her lips had stretched into a broad grin the moment I’d been announced, showing off a row of slightly yellowed teeth. I recognized her of course, though not from a screen or a book. It had been a long time since I’d seen her face-to-face, but she hadn’t changed much in the past two decades or so. I wasn’t sure what had brought her all the way here, thousands of miles away from her homeland, but I wasn’t unhappy about it.

She was the only one showing any strong emotion and was getting some odd looks from the mages around her because of it, but I didn’t begrudge her her enjoyment of the situation. I’d probably have been pretty excited as well were I standing in her shoes. It had been a long time since I’d spoken to any of them, but my mother’s family had always been at least cordial. I met my great aunt’s eyes and Desta’s grin widened to split her face as she inclined her head.

I stepped down onto the tarmac, my longer legs turning what had been a drop for the director into an easy step. Almost as one, twenty mages bowed or curtsied, and a dozen voices called out respectful greetings in nearly as many tongues. 

Orinis Gelberbrook straightened. “Your majesty, you honor and humble us with your presence. My name is Orinis Gelnerbrook, vice chairman of the Society of Sedhr High Council. If there is anything I or my people can do to make your stay in our humble territory more comfortable, you need only to ask and we shall see your will done.”

I regarded him cooly for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, Orinis.” The thrill of calling a man like him by his first name to his face nearly broke my mask. “There are a number of things I must do in Oslo before I depart.”

“I shall arrange for transport and an escort immediately, Campione.”

“Your magus Nora has proven herself to be adequate company so far. She will escort me.” 

Orinis clearly had no idea who Nora was, but he wasn’t about to disagree with me. His eyes flickered past me, glancing towards the open door of the helicopter. “Of course, Campione.” He fidgeted, “I must––“

“Go.” 

He went, followed a moment later by his two fellows, though I noticed the witch stopped after a few steps to join the rest of the waiting mages. 

There was a brief jockeying of positions, and then the introductions began. It was somewhat curious to see who came forward and who initially hung back to get a better read on my character before they spoke with me for the first time. 

It wasn’t much of a surprise when the Chinese man approached me first, slipping nimbly past the other mages and bowing deeply over a martial salute when he stood before me. The Holy Cult of the Five Mountains was almost as well known for their arrogance as their leader herself. “This one greats the god slayer on behalf of his mistress, Her Eminence Luo Hao, the Ruler of the Martial Realm. This one is Zhou Zhiqiang.”

Someday, I looked forward to meeting Luo Hao. I dearly hoped the distance between Egypt and China would mean that day did not come until I had another Authority or two under my belt. 

I inclined my head. “Pass along my greetings and give my respect to your mistress. I have heard great things of my eldest sister. Perhaps someday we shall have the opportunity to meet face to face.”

He bowed again. “I shall see it done,” he intoned, and wordlessly retreated back to his spot near the edge of the landing field without raising his head. 

Lord El-Melloi II and his escort stepped in to replace him a moment later and I briefly glanced past the trio of Clock Tower Magi to count the remaining mages. That was…rather a lot of people, actually. And I doubted every conversation would be as quick as the first two had been. 

I’d never much liked exchanging pleasantries with people I didn’t know nor care about, though my mother had made sure I knew how to so I wouldn’t embarrass her any more than I already did just by existing. I could just walk away. I was a Campione. No one would stop me. 

But that was not the face I wanted to show the world. 

I smiled charmingly at Waver Velvet and the prize of a girl half-hidden behind him in her gray cloak, then winked at the female enforcer wearily watching me from behind his other shoulder. He bowed crisply, then straightened. “Your majesty, I am Lord El-Melloi II of the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory. On behalf of the Clock Tower, I must congratulate you on your ascension. It pleases us to see a magus of such a vaunted lineage take such strides, and we hope you will be amenable to mutually beneficial relations in the future.”

Nora stepped silently out of the helicopter behind me and tried to use my distraction to slip away, but I caught her shoulder without looking and steered her over to stand just behind me. 

I couldn’t have my saber face just yet, nor my great knights, but this prize wasn’t going anywhere. 

I inclined my head, making sure to tilt it a fraction less than I had when speaking with the Chinese mage. I doubted Waver would notice the difference, but a member of the Five Mountain Cult very well could, and might consider it an insult. I really wanted to avoid giving Luo Hao to seek me out anytime soon. “Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard great things about your work to integrate new-age magi into the Clock Tower.”

Waver looked slightly surprised by my comment, but quickly schooled his features. “It is something of a passion project of mine. It means a great deal to hear that a man of your standing has heard of it. I would be happy to discuss the topic in greater detail if that would please your majesty?”

“It would, but at a later date. I have further business to attend to today.”

“Of course, as your majesty wills it.” He bowed again, and I waved for him to go.

I looked again at the remaining mages waiting to speak with me and suppressed a sigh. I had a theory that presenting myself as the most reasonable and grounded of my siblings would eventually pay dividends, but actually doing so sounded…exhusting.