Lives That Come and Go

“Abolishing slavery is quite an accomplishment,” Nythana said to Basil.

Far from any reactions she would have expected, he gave her a sad smile.

“You give me too much credit,” he said in soft melancholy. “It was one of the tributes that brought it about.”

Why does he seem so sad about that?

“A tribute?” Nythana asked to goad him into talking.

“Yes,” Basil said. “One of the tributes in the fifth year was sent to die here because she was making waves in Titarium with her anti-slavery campaign. At the time, we were already considering bringing in slaves to cover the massive shortage in our workforce left by the massacres. That’s when she burst into the audience chamber and gave everyone an unrequested lecture about the long-term damage and stagnation that slavery brings to nations.”

Basil chuckled wistfully, and Nythana tilted her head. Was he disappointed in himself for how he responded? Did he oppose her at first? She looked at his eyes through the magic-blocking veil. What is going through his head?

“She convinced us to trade our goods for slaves from other countries, but instead of forcing them to work as slaves, we would remove their slave contracts and educate them in whatever fields they were suited for or interested in. She even convinced us to use spies and informants to find lost family members and reunite them within our free market.”

“Ooh,” Mycelium said. “Efficient. Inciting loyalty while gaining specialized manpower in exchange for simple material goods is clever. This woman was very smart.”

“It didn’t take long for her ways to be proven right,” Basil continued. “One of the slaves turned out to be a genius at agricultural magic; another became a legendary trauma councilor; Daromir’s mother and grandmother were slaves that were freed here. With the accomplishments of former slaves and the rippling effects of those accomplishments, we had already overcome the economic setbacks of the war within ten years of its end.”

“Ten years?!” Mycelium demanded so intensely that Nythana’s eye twitched. “The dark mages’ journals showed that Prarius’ economy didn’t recover until twenty to thirty years ago, and he’s saying that Basileus’ economy was back to normal was back to normal fifty years ago?”

“She sounds amazing,” Nythana said, trying to ignore Mycelium’s banter. “So, why do you seem so sad to talk about her?”

Basil stared off into space without responding.

“She passed away two years ago,” Daromir said after a time.

“Oh…” Nythana said.

I see, she thought. This is what it is to live an extended life surrounded by people. My hundred years were spent alone hunting dark mages with Mycelium. Basil has had to watch people come and go this whole time while he stayed in place. And with his supply of life energy, he has thousands of years left to watch it happen over and over again.

“Perhaps watching so many lives come and go is why he hesitated to dodge that assassin’s attack,” Mycelium suggested.

“That reminds me,” Nythana thought. “I still need to make sure he doesn’t do that again.”

After another long silence, Daromir spoke again.

“I will go inform Rayhona of her new duties,” he said. “Good evening to you both, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness.”

Daromir bowed respectfully and left out the door with a swift gait.

“Is he running away or is this a test?” Mycelium asked. “This has to be some sort of a test, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nythana thought. “His presence wouldn’t deter me from doing what I need to do.”

She watched the door close, and she turned to Basil.

“Now that he’s gone, it’s my turn to nag,” she said, rising to her feet.

Basil looked at her with concern and perhaps even a shred of fear.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Basil Basileus,” she said as she advanced on him. “You were thinking about letting that dark mage’s attack hit you yesterday, weren’t you?”

He glanced away, confirming her suspicions. She flipped his veil up away from his face and grabbed his head between her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes. The magnificent, glowing amber-topaz of his eyes with their magic-borne opalescence bored into her, filling her with life energy.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “You’re mine now. Don’t even think about dying until I live to be at least five hundred years old.”

“When did you become so territorial?” Mycelium asked, but Nythana ignored the question.

A small smile tugged at the edges of Basil’s lips.

“Any other demands, my queen-to-be?” he asked with an amused smirk.

“Just that you take care of yourself,” she said. “I will be by your side, undead and unchanging, until the day your life energy runs dry. You don’t need to worry about standing alone while the world passes you by. Even during the times that we’re apart, you can trust me to come back to you. I will destroy anything that would dare to stand in my way to make sure of that.”

Though it wasn’t easy to see with his darker skin, Basil’s cheeks took on color, and she felt the warmth spreading beneath her hands.

“Because you need my life energy?” he probed.

“Because you’re someone worth supporting,” she said. “Your life energy was going to be mine no matter what. Were you a dark mage that preyed upon your tributes like I thought you were, I would have locked you in a tower and had you fed through a tube, only coming to looking at you to recharge my power.”

A shudder ran up his spine even as his cheeks took on an even deeper red.

“Isn’t that a tad ruthless?” he asked.

“It’s no less than a dark mage deserves,” she said. “Any support I give you, I give it to you because you deserve it for who you are and what you’ve done.”

Basil tucked his lips, attempting to hide a smile.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked. “I’m in the middle of threatening you. It’s rude to smile while someone’s threatening you.”

“I think you and Daromir would get along quite well if you didn’t use dark magic,” he said, his smile winning over his face.

Nythana scrunched her eyebrows.

“Is that a backwards compliment?” she asked.

“No,” Basil said. “It’s a very straightforward compliment.”

“Uh-huh…”

Basil’s smile widened. “Contrary to what you’ve seen, Daromir is an incredibly competent and caring person that despises anyone that would take advantage of those that can’t defend themselves.”

“Is that so…?”

“It is,” Basil said. “He can’t bring himself to tolerate people that would hurt others for their personal gain, so he’ll warm up to you once he realizes that you’re a good person that wouldn’t do what he fears you’ve done.”

Nythana released her hold on his head. His confidence in her goodness seemed absolute.

“How do you know I’m not that sort of person?” she asked. “We’ve only met yesterday.”

“Yes, but The Witch of the Northern Wastes has been around for a century, yet I’ve never heard a credible story about her attacking innocents. If anything, I think it’s you who has the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” Nythana asked. “About what?”

“I’m not some grand ruler that rebuilt his kingdom from the ground up. It was my advisors that deserve your praise, not me.”

Hmm… Nythana thought. “Is this a healthy level of humility or does he have self-image issues?”

“Considering that he didn’t try to dodge a dark magic spell…”

“Yeah,” Nythana agreed. “We’ll have to work on that lack of self-worth.”

“Were you not the one who had final say in every policy implemented in this kingdom?” she asked aloud.

Basil glanced away sheepishly.

“I was, but…”

“But nothing,” Nythana said with a solid poke to his forehead. “Your advisors wouldn’t have been your advisors if you hadn’t been a king worth following. The abolition of slavery is the perfect example. The woman that persuaded you to adopt those policies wouldn’t have been able to do that if you were treating the women that were tributed as little more than child-bearing tools meant to mass produce babies. A human broodmare would never have been able to enter the castle, let alone gain audience with the king and share her ideas with him. But that isn’t how you treated them, and that is what allowed her to share her opinions and advise you on your policies.”

Basil’s eyes widened a little.

“Don’t you see? It was the foundation that you, King Basil of Basileus, laid that has supported everything else that has happened in your kingdom.”

Basil slowly nodded.

“I see,” he said. “Yes, indeed. I still believe you give me too much credit, but I can’t deny your point.”

There was a knock on the door.

Basil flipped his hood back over his eyes, looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said, “Enter.”

The door opened, and Daromir stepped in.

“Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty, but we still have much work to do.”

Basil nodded and looked at the papers on the desk.

“Is there any way I can help?” Nythana asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Daromir said. “Since you aren’t trained in the ways we do our paperwork, there isn’t anything for you to do.”

“Somehow that feels like an excuse to get me out of his hair,” Nythana thought.

“It likely is,” Mycelium chimed in.

No use fighting it.

“I suppose I’ll be taking my leave, then,” she said.

As she curtseyed with the tails of her cloak, Basil spoke.

“Before you go, I believe this is yours now,” he said.

Basil fished a ring from his coat, got onto one knee, and slipped it onto her left ring finger.

My husband is certainly suave, Nythana thought as Basil stood again and kissed the back of her hand.

“Goodnight, my Queen,” he said.

“Goodnight, my King,” she replied.

Nythana slipped out the door and retired to her chambers where she found Rayhona as well as Luo-Lei, Pahiri, Horapha, Manjeri, and Vacalfa waiting for her.

“Welcome back, Your Royal Highness,” Rayhona said with a deep curtsey that the others mirrored.

“Thank you, Rayhona.”

“It is we who should be thanking you, my lady,” Rayhona said in earnest.

The others behind her nodded their agreement.

“There’s no need for thanks,” Nythana said. “You earned my recognition with your professionalism. You didn’t comment or make a scene even though my body resembles a cadaver used for surgical practice.”

“You honor us, my lady.”

“I won’t be needing anything tonight,” Nythana said. “We can discuss plans going forward tomorrow, so get some rest in the meantime.”

“As you wish, Your Royal Highness.”

Rayhona and the other five bowed to her and left her alone in the spacious bedroom.

“A Queen Consort,” Nythana mused, looking at the ring on her finger. “They slip a ring on my finger and suddenly I’m royalty.”

“Royalty bleeds the same color as everyone else except for you, since you’re bloodless. Royals and nobles are just as human as commoners and even slaves. Everything that makes one royal or noble is superficial. Status is an entirely social construct.”

“You really love your philosophy, don’t you?”

Mycelium ignored her comment and asked, “Will you actually sleep tonight?”

“Not likely,” Nythana said, striding over to where her travel trunk rested against the wall. “There’s far too much to think about and prepare for. I need to decipher whether there’s a steady enough environmental mana supply for the spacial magic circuits or if I’m going to need to properly enchant this system on a regular basis.”

“No rest for the researcher, it would seem,” Mycelium said.

“Never.”