Of Kings and Scholars

The feast was glorious. White meat, red meat, potatoes and gravy that was out of this world, with perfectly soft buns. All the fruits and vegetables were clearly fresh, and the drink was delightful, but alas as much as this bounty would have usually made his heart soar, it was all soured for Renji. He was still coming to terms with the fact that his previous life was over, and the glares from Princess Illya didn’t help. Such hateful looks felt like they drilled into him, accusing him of a million things without ever knowing who he was. There were others who joined them at their table, of course. Hutch, the court wizard. Balam, the strongest royal knight. A young woman who seemed to be an apprentice to Hutch. Finally, the King himself sat at the head of the table, slowly enjoying the food set before him and ignoring the fire behind his daughter’s eyes.

“Perhaps now it is time to tell you just what you were brought here for. Hutch, please explain the matter to our esteemed guest. Do not leave out any details.” The King’s words carried weight. While various knights and servants were in this room, standing guard or working, Hutch had to speak freely. There would be no secrets held in this room. “As you wish, your majesty. Renji Naoki, you said your name was? It’s a good name, a strong name. There is much I’d love to ask you about your world, but please, listen to what we have to say first.”

Standing up, Hutch closed his eyes and focused. Within a moment, a blue light briefly surrounded his hand, before that same blue light formed a map upon the table. “This is Velgrath. It’s a big place, though much of it is, thus far, untamed. In this realm, nature holds a lot of strength, for this world runs on aether. We breathe it in, turn it into natural mana, and that’s how we are able to master the mystical arts. Raw aether can be used as a fuel for magic, but it’s dangerous and wild. You’ll only ever see it done in nature through natural causes. It’s my personal hope that you take well to the mystical arts, Renji. I have an apprentice already, but I’m sure she’s quite eager to share her thoughts with you.”

Gesturing to the short girl sitting opposite to him, she stands, her floppy, pointed hat swiftly removed as she bows in greeting. “I’m Nemi. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Her excitement is clear for all to see. Looking about a year or two younger than Illya, she has deep emerald-colored hair, and matching eyes. “It’s my first time meeting an Outworlder. Gosh, there’s so much I want to ask, but I’ll save it for later.” Her barely contained restraint is evident. Renji wasn’t sure if he should remain on his toes around her or not, it’s such a rarity to see such naked enthusiasm, so much so that it was almost infectious. He was curious as to what she wanted to know, though assumed it had to do with how he got here.

However, as Nemi straightened up to sit back down, Renji noticed something he hadn’t expected to see. Sharp, fluffy, feline ears stuck out atop her head, flicking momentarily at his gaze. He shouldn’t be surprised, but it was still a momentary shock to see it for real. As her hat slips back on, her ears are swiftly hidden once more, causing Renji to wonder if there was any reason Nemi was hiding them. “Surely not,” he thought to himself. “If she was hiding them, revealing it here with so much company would be foolish. There has to be another reason.”

“Thank you, Nemi. Now, continuing on.” Small movements with his fingers cause the illusion to change, zooming in to different locations, reminding Renji of smart devices from his world. “The Dark Lord has returned, a powerful demon with plans to take over the world. Every time he is slain, he will resurrect a thousand years later with a new body. However, whether or not he tries to hide his resurrection, one thing is always constant. The black keep, Barathûn, will always stir, grow again no matter how barren it is. Our scryers witnessed this phenomenon begin about a year ago. Something is different this time, though. They’ve been strangely…” *Hutch’s hands move in circles around him as he tries to find the right word.* “Open. Ordinarily, Barathûn never trades with outsiders, but now they’re openly trading with neighbouring lands. Food, metals, they’ve even begun exporting materials of their own. Nothing conspicuous, but this shatters all previous patterns. As such, we’ve been far more careful than we ordinarily would have.”

King Roland stands up, his eyes narrowing with mild annoyance. “I will take it from here, Hutch. I shall get straight to the point.” His left hand gestures slowly to his daughter. “Every time The Dark Lord returns, a hero is forged to defeat The Dark Lord. More often than not, the hero is one of royal blood due to our heritage. This is no different. My daughter awoke to incredible strength, granting her the necessary might, but she lacks training and refinement. My most trusted knight, Balam, has trained her diligently for the past few years, but she is still lacking something critical, something I believe none of us could provide. We sought your help, Renji Naoki, to seek that gap and fill it with your knowledge and experience. My daughter is mighty, but she is arrogant. It is evident she will not accept you unless you prove yourself. I had hoped to avoid such a farce, but time is of the essence. Would you be willing to humour us?”

Renji’s eyes darted back and forth, absorbing the information the King had given him, but one solid truth rested at the back of his mind. “If I say no, you won’t be able to send me back anyway, right?” He asked, unable to meet the King’s gaze.

“That is correct.” No hesitation, just a grim finality with an oddly warm and soft tone.

“Fine. I’ll do what I can because I don’t have any real choice here. What sort of test do I need to endure?” Renji’s jaw was tense. He was set. There was no going back, and saying no just meant that they were all doomed anyway, if everything that was told to him was true. He had to accept that he had to go all-in on this, even if he hated to.

“Well, I suppose that is where your talents will come into play. Could you please tell us a bit about yourself? Where do you think your talents—”
Illya shot up, standing haughty and proud. “Don’t bother, Father; we both know where this is going. Renji, I challenge you to a duel. Pick your weapon and we shall meet in the training grounds. If you beat me, only then will I accept defeat.”

The room was silent for a moment, even King Roland himself seemed stunned by her sheer hubris, but it was Balam clearing his throat that finally severed the tension. “My lady, are you sure that is wise? By all accounts, Renji appears to be an ordinary man. Strength like yours could split the gate of this very castle with one swing of your mighty axe, so why don’t you choose another form of contest, or—”

“Ah, fine. You’re right. Okay, I promise I’ll hold back my strength enough not to kill you, but I still want that duel! I won’t accept being taught by anyone that is weaker than me.” There was a determination in Illya’s eyes that Renji recognised. This wasn’t a behavior she seemed to choose, this was one she was taught to take. She had heard so often about how great and powerful she was that she had begun to buy into it entirely. It was obvious now why King Roland straightaway cited her arrogance as a problem, she needed to be humbled, but could he really stand up to her?

“Very well, I shall try. Forgive me, your majesty, but I shall accept your daughter’s request for a duel. Is that acceptable?” Renji steeled himself, and Roland clearly saw that. “The lad was brave, but he was in over his head.” The King thought to himself. Still, he saw something in Renji, he knew there was talent somewhere, he just didn’t know where. He had hoped to use Hutch and Nemi’s magic to try and find it before his daughter inevitably challenged Renji to a duel, but it was out of his hands now. “Yes, very well.” He finally responded, taking a long drink of his red wine. “After dinner, though. It’d be rude to ask our guest to do battle on an empty stomach, wouldn't it?” Having gotten what she wanted, Illya smiled softly and sat back down. “Yes, Father!” Like a child bribed with candy, she had become sweet and courteous. It reminded Renji of the very brats he’d often deal with at work, and it sparked a low anger in him that he tried to ignore as he ate, planning just how he would try and win a duel over the superhuman princess.