Bonus Chapter #2
“And let’s not forget about the true threat,” Duchess Yasmine insisted. “How many soldiers has Khordan pledged to send to our defense should Nalax attack?”
“Our defensive pact remains in place,” Haldric assured her. “But we haven’t discussed any specifics such as—”
Haggerty cut him off with a loud snort. “Mutual exchanges are one thing, but it’s foolish to make ourselves reliant on another nation with their own agenda.
Accepting aid would place us squarely in Khordan’s debt.
What if they come to collect, or demand concessions from us, such as a greater say in our affairs? ”
Before King Haldric could muster a response, Duke Westley finally spoke. The sniveling weasel wore his usual colorful silks over his thin frame, his crimson eye patch glinting dangerously.
“Duke Haggerty raises a valid point. While King Haldric’s plan to seek aid from Khordan is no doubt well-intentioned and will certainly help ease the initial burden of our lost crops, it is naively optimistic to believe it will be enough in the long-term to solve our woes.”
Janelle’s mistrustful scowl matched Benjin’s own. “Do you have another suggestion, Cullford?”
After Duke Westley’s myriad crimes, Benjin wished he could wipe the smug smile from his face…
or perhaps set it on fire. “As a matter of fact, I do,” Westley said.
“My own trade connections in Sanjarka are perfectly positioned to negotiate contracts for delivery of whatever goods or food we may require.”
A frown pinched Haldric’s brow. “And what would such an endeavor cost?”
Duke Westley proffered his hands in a shrug. “Your Majesty, can you truly put a price on security and self-reliance? I’m certain that we can work out the details and come up with the required funds. All it would require is a proper realignment of priorities.”
Benjin squirmed at that. No doubt away from other desperately needed initiatives like improving the roads or providing better conditions for the lowborn, all while enriching Westley’s own pockets.
King Haldric’s reluctance was palpable. “Thank you for the suggestion, Duke Westley. An option worth considering, to be sure.”
“All of this is well and good,” Duchess Iliana insisted. “But what of curing the blight itself?” She glanced toward Benjin’s mirror, staring at him through its surface. Her lip curled slightly. “Have we made any progress at all?”
A jolt of inadequacy curdled Benjin’s gut as he glanced over at his latest failed experiment.
Haldric jumped instantly to his defense. “Despite the Grand Magus’s continued and noble efforts, so far, a breakthrough has eluded us. The affected crops have resisted every effort to purify them, and while fire destroys the blight, it doesn’t seem to halt the spread.”
Much like Benjin’s latest experiments. No matter how well he cleansed the effects of the blight, the seed at its heart endured, keeping the curse alive.
Yet as he studied his arrayed equipment and prepared runes, the mention of fire sparked something in his mind. Tuning out the meeting, he turned away from the mirror and began setting up a new test.
Thus far, he’d been relying on dawnflame to supplement Restoration magic forged from his own runeflame. But dawnflame wasn’t only associated with healing and priests. Paladins from Khordan’s Order of the Radiant Dawn routinely used it to scour and burn their enemies in holy flame as well.
Could that be the missing ingredient?
Benjin hurriedly added several new runes to his existing configuration, mixing an element of Evocation into the existing Restoration. The runes came easily to him—fire was, after all, his specialty. Once he was finished, he took a moment to survey his handiwork.
Enhanced by dawnflame, this new spell of purifying flame should sear away the rot even while mending the damage. In theory, at least.
Holding his breath, Benjin activated the runes, watching as the spell took effect. Like before, the blight faded from the stalk of wheat. Yet this time, a deep glow suffused the wheat afterward.
Wisps of steam began to rise from its length, and Benjin briefly feared he’d miscalculated the balance between Evocation and Restoration. Yet in the end, the glow faded and the smoke cleared, leaving the stalk unharmed.
Now came the real test. Gathering his equipment to him, he examined the wheat, searching for any lingering signs of the curse. What he saw had him leaping to his feet with a loud, whooping cheer.
He had done it! For the first time, the wheat was completely cleansed of the blight. All he’d needed was a little more fire. A good lesson for the future, perhaps.
He was so lost in his triumph that it took him a moment to realize that Haldric and the governors were all staring at him through the mirror. Right…they could see and hear everything he did.
Muffling his embarrassment, Benjin cleared his throat and tried to conjure a veneer of gravitas suitable for a Grand Magus. Meeting Haldric’s questioning gaze, he couldn’t hold back a small grin. “Good news, Your Majesty. I believe I may have a solution to offer after all.”
Haldric blinked, appearing momentarily stunned. Then, a broad grin split his face. “I had every faith that you would, Grand Magus. Excellent work, as always.”
A disbelieving snort rose from Duke Westley. “Our best and brightest have all struggled in vain to derive a solution for months. No offense to our fledgling Grand Magus, but what makes you think that someone with your lack of experience can succeed where they have failed?”
Once, Westley’s words might’ve cut too close to home, conjuring a specter of doubt.
But Benjin was no longer the uncertain apprentice he’d once been.
Years of training, both with Haldric and on his own, had lent him a newfound confidence in his magical prowess.
He didn’t fear the governors. Especially not Duke Westley.
“Your skepticism is well-warranted, Duke Westley,” Benjin said with feigned politeness. “Please, allow me to allay your concerns with a demonstration. One moment.”
Uttering a silent prayer to the Goddess that his success hadn’t been a fluke, Benjin gathered up the equipment he’d need to repeat his experiment.
Then, he canceled out the enchantment on the mirror and channeled runeflame to activate another, far more complex set of runes carved into the mirror’s frame.
He’d never had occasion to use this particular spell before, but he’d tested it extensively, and it should work… in theory.
The surface of the mirror shimmered like a silver pool of mercury. He took a breath and stepped into it. Azure flames engulfed him. He had a moment of panic where he worried that he’d accidentally disintegrated himself. Then, he exited the linked mirror into the banquet hall.
The feat earned him startled gasps from the others assembled there. Duchess Yasmine shouted in alarm and drew her sword, while Duke Westley toppled from his chair in surprise. Haldric stared at Benjin in open-mouthed shock.
Duchess Janelle eyed Benjin and just shook her head. Mages, he thought he heard her mutter under her breath. Louder, she said, “Was that really necessary, Grand Magus? A warning would have been nice.”
Benjin grinned, his smile widening at the sight of an indignant Westley huffing and picking himself up from the floor, brushing off his expensive suit. “You know how we mages love to make an entrance.”
Janelle rolled her eyes. Benjin met Haldric’s gaze and saw the king’s surprise morphing into wry amusement. Playing into the bit, Haldric gave a sweeping bow.
“Well, go on then, Grand Magus. I’m certain you wouldn’t have made such a magnificent entrance if you didn’t have something equally magnificent to show us.”
Benjin inclined his head. “It would be my honor, Your Majesty.”
He set about preparing his experiment on the table before the governors with the supplies he’d hastily gathered from his workshop. By the time he was ready, the governors had all recomposed themselves.
Duke Westley watched with a scowl and crossed arms while Iliana stared at the stalk of blighted wheat as if desperate for a miracle. The others watched with a mix of vague interest and slight boredom.
Haldric gave Benjin an encouraging nod. Benjin steeled himself and activated the ritual.
Doubt scrabbled once more at his thoughts while he waited for the ritual to run its course.
What if he’d acted too rashly? What if he failed to repeat the result in front of all these important people? What if he let Haldric down?
Relief buzzed along his skin when everything went according to plan.
His array of runes interwoven with runeflame and dawnflame once again engulfed the blighted stalk of wheat with their combined magic.
Thin wisps of black smoke curled in the air.
As the smoke cleared, the wheat stalk was left whole and hearty, any hint of corruption seared away.
Iliana scooped the cleansed stalk up, cradling it to her bosom like a newborn babe. “It’s really gone? Just like that?”
Benjin nodded. “It is, Your Grace. Neither runeflame nor dawnflame on their own were sufficient to permanently suppress the curse. But drawing upon experiments by a scholar in Khordan, I was able to infuse the runeflame with dawnflame in order to—”
“An impressive display,” Westley said with a barely concealed sneer. “Certainly very...theatrical. But what proof do you have that the blight is truly gone for good?”
“You mean besides the proof of your own eyes and my word?” Benjin asked with a raised brow.
He kept his voice calm, removing any trace of the anger pulsing through his veins.
His time in the palace had taught him that people like Westley relished provoking a reaction.
Deny them that, and you deprived them of a vaunted weapon.
Sure enough, Westley’s face grew blotchy with embarrassment as a handful of the other governors chuckled.