Chapter Eleven #3
There was so much more to figure out, but this first giant hurdle had been passed.
Right or wrong, Tor had accepted the Fealty of thousands of people, including Pel, Beluna, Cavun, and Istila.
He was committed to this endeavor, and all he had to do now was try to make sure his family was safe…
and then convince his stubborn brother that this was the best thing that could have happened.
(Was this becoming the refrain of Tor’s life? Should he be worried?)
When he got back—he was going to say when, not if—there would be a lot to do, but he’d completed the one big task that was possible right now. And it would definitely help for what came next.
The magic of the Fealty was his and not-his at the same time.
It didn’t feel like it sat in quite the same place as his magic did, and he swore anew that he would be ever mindful about drawing from it.
He assumed that if he had to do so, he could spread it out over everyone and not take too much, too fast. That way, it should have time to replenish.
But he didn’t actually know the precise parameters.
If his brother ever spoke to him again, Tor had so many questions.
Because whether it felt like his magic or not, he couldn’t deny that it was coiling through him now, that he was full of energy, awake and alert and… ready to climb a mountain or something (and he still didn’t like mountains).
But was that just a side effect of the pledging? Or had he actually pulled from that magic after all, though he hadn’t been consciously aware of it? He couldn’t accidentally pull so much that he harmed any of them, could he?
He felt his breath catch. Had he injured or killed anyone when he’d borrowed Varex’s magic to save everyone up the mountain? He blew out a breath. No, they wouldn’t have hesitated to blame him if he’d caused injuries or deaths.
He felt the exact opposite of weak now, which was a good sign. He needed that energy to go help his family. And if it was possible to fill the exiles’ land with the feeling of having a ruler and of being stable and happy, then that was what Tor would try to do.
Unsure if it really worked like that, he nevertheless closed his eyes and tried to send a feeling of well-being back into his people—he had people now!
He concentrated on the feeling of the ground beneath his feet, knew that it wasn’t quite the exiles’ land, but close, and just…
thought about being stable and happy and safe for the people living and working on it.
I have no idea what I’m doing, but surely you must have dealt with rulers like this in the past, people who were surprised by the Fealty and everything that came with it.
I swear I’m going to do my best to protect everyone, to be worthy of this.
Please protect them and keep them safe. I have to go protect my family first, but I’ll be back, and I’ll work with you and the people and we’ll all be well, all right?
Probably, he wasn’t supposed to talk to the earth and the weather like it was alive, but he was trying it anyway.
He sidled over to Bavil. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
The man looked at him in surprise for a moment, and then his face creased into a grin. “Not a clue. I’m pretty sure my father was planning to live forever.”
Yeah, King Forex hadn’t struck Tor as the type of person who would carefully prepare his heir.
Tor’s mother had done more prep, and it was Tor’s own fault for not paying as much attention as he could have.
But it had never occurred to him when they were younger that something could actually happen to Varex, and he’d prioritized other things.
Of course, he’d known for a while now that his past self was a fool. He was trying to do better—and he had a good group of people who would help with that. He had a foundation, at least, and if he was lucky, he could figure things out with his brother and ask lots of questions.
Maybe this explained a little more the distance that had grown between them when Varex became High King.
If he’d been grappling with the reality of the Fealty and the responsibility of Alossa and the entirety of the United Realms, while Tor had been trying to grasp at what they’d used to have because it was something familiar…
It really hadn’t been conducive to their figuring things out.
Now Tor had his own Fealty, his own bonded, a family on the way, and a whole lot of responsibility.
Maybe Varex would see that as an improvement?
Would his brother think Tor was being positively challenged, or would he panic about Tor being given this responsibility, like he had when he’d removed Tor from the position of captain of the guard?
Well, Tor would fight for the exiles, regardless of whether he had their Fealty or not.
And he’d argue about why they’d picked him.
Many of the people he’d met today had thanked him for saving them—or saving a family member or a friend—and Tor hoped that even if Varex wouldn’t forgive the outcome, he could be convinced to take care of these people.
They deserved to have safety and hope.
Tor just had to find his family, make sure they were safe, and stop a plot to take over the United Realms, then he could focus on the exiles again.