132. Peacetime Blues

One week into her new life in Kronvakt, Serac's patience had nearly run its course.

Now that she'd peeled back the layers and glimpsed into what palace life was really like, she saw it for the bland drudgery it was. Three meals a day—and all of them delicious—yet they only served to bracket rotework that quickly lost their charm once the novelty wore off.

'Patrols' around the palace perimeters that turned up nothing but the occasional vermin outbreak, if that. Supervised 'sparring sessions' that often amounted to not much more than glorified warm-up routines. While these activities did allow Serac to suss out the fighting prowess of fellow Kronvakt members, they couldn't hold a candle to the thrill of hunting murderous Aberrants nor the fulfillment that came with helping to rebuild a community. Perhaps the most unbelievable part of all this was that she hadn't seen a single drop of Karmic reward all week—not even one measly क!

On Serac's frustrations, Trippy was in full agreement:

"It saddens me to see the state of these Wayfarers, Wayfarer. It's clear that peace and stability have bred complacency and predictability. These Kronvakt chase not the furtherance of their Path but the securement of their livelihood. They're a mere few steps away from [Anchoring] themselves, and they don't even realize it!"

As always, Trippy's endorsement made Serac stop and question her own beliefs. 'Peace and stability' sounded pretty good on their own—something she might wish for many of the Anchored souls she'd befriended on her journey. But did she want it for herself?

No. At least not yet. There's still so much for me to explore, understand, and challenge—both of the world and within myself.

And that, in essence, was what Trippy was getting at. Serac's Path didn't end here, and nor should it end here. She couldn't allow herself to be dragged under by complacency and predictability… even if it meant she had to make waves where peace and stability otherwise reigned.

As was the wont of the peaceful and predictable, the Kronvakt's mornings began with a meeting in the mess hall—a spacious hollow inside the girthiest portion of the Northern Bough. This morning was no exception, and Serac sat up to listen as soon as she'd put away her plates.

Despite the meetings often containing little to no useful information, Serac made it a point to give them her full attention. The way she saw it, these were her only source of news about the Realm outside the ivory tower that was Krongard. On this occasion, her diligence paid off, as the very first item of discussion turned out to be—

"—skirmishes around the Stamgard-Rotgard border," this according to Hilde Vindsdatter, who ran the meetings as Kronvakt's second-in-command. In contrast, Rathor the Captain sat behind her with a languid posture, offering nothing but a vacuous smile. "As you know, tensions between the two segments have been rising since the Realmhunt. And it seems the Rotters have grown bold enough to escalate to real violence. No casualties as yet, but it may be a matter of time before—"

"What are the Kronheer doing?" This courtesy of a [SKJAL SORENSEN], the erstwhile barracuda with the sword-and-buckler. "These are Anchored souls, barely recuperated from a years-long withering. Surely, they'd be no trouble for our trained soldiers to handle?"

"That might have been true," Hilde answered with a glare of warning, obviously displeased by the interruption, "if it were only the Anchored souls the soldiers had to deal with. According to their reports, the Rotters have renegade Wayfarers working with them behind the scenes, which… complicates matters, to put it mildly. If tensions really were to boil over into armed conflict, there's no telling which 'side' has the upper hand."

Serac exchanged the briefest of glances with Zacko, even as she resisted her urge to break out in a broad smile. For she knew that the newly unemployed Tomasen twins had picked up where the outrealmers had left off, lending their powerful magic and considerable weight behind Rotgard's restoration. She wasn't too sure about this 'armed conflict' they seemed to be driving towards, but at the very least, she was glad that her Roots-dwelling friends had someone in their corner who could stand up to their bullies.

"Do we intervene then?" Skjal the barracuda again. "Nip the rebellion in the bud, and capture these renegades while we're at it? My team is ready—just say the word, and we'll take care of it. No need to trouble the Prince."

Skjal was one of the few Kronvakt members Serac had grown to respect and maybe even like. He had a rough manner about him, but he also seemed to be just as bored of palace life as she—and just as itching for action. She wasn't too sure about his eagerness to butt heads against the Tomasens, but at the very least, she was glad someone in Krongard seemed to have their priorities straight.

However, Skjal's suggestion landed to mixed reception from the rest of the room. Silence from most of the fellow Kronvakt, and apparent hesitancy on the part of Hilde. The manta ray looked over her shoulder at Rathor, perhaps hoping for the Captain to provide some direction. But the half-blood prince merely widened his smile, as if in encouragement.

Encouragement to do what? Serac felt a prick of irritation, as was becoming a regular occurrence whenever she had to watch Rathor go about his princely duties. And not for the first time, she wondered: does this guy care about anything other than what he catches with the end of his stick?

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Hilde turned back to the group and opened her mouth to speak. But she was interrupted again, this time by a much quieter voice than Skjal's.

"There's no need for us to fret."

All eyes turned to the corner of the room—to Eddur Lokksen. The barreleye stood by his lonesome, despite the many empty seats that separated him and his peers. His eyes, as always, pointed directly to the ceiling—though that didn't stop Serac from feeling as though she was being watched the whole time.

"If four centuries of King Tyr's reign have taught us anything, it's that the Crown oughtn't meddle in the trifles of the Trunk and Roots." Eddur's lips barely moved as he spoke, and his speech came out in a garbled murmur. Even so, Serac heard every word as though they'd been whispered directly into her ear. "Grievances and injustices, imagined or otherwise. They all pale in urgency to the one force that drives and unifies our Realm. Soon, spring will arrive, and the people's thoughts will turn to sating their renewed appetite. Why fight a rebellion when there are seeds to be sown and homes to be built? Mark my words. 'These things' have a way of working themselves out."

But the Crown has meddled, Serac wanted to shout. The people had to fight to claw back everything they'd lost, and they're still fighting. How can you be so sure things will just 'work out'? Unless—

Serac narrowed her eyes at Eddur, uncaring whether he noticed her open suspicion. Was the barreleye man just a very odd individual, or did he know something others didn't? But whether the rest of the room shared her concern or not, it became a moot matter as soon as the prince finally deigned to speak—for his was the only opinion that mattered.

"I like where your head's at, Lokksen," Rathor sang, his smile as bright as it was impenetrable. "We all have spring to look forward to, so why the doom and gloom, hey? And you, Sorensen. If you're so desperate to test your mettle, let me be your sparring partner today. I'll even take on your whole team, if you wish. Come! To the Yard with the lot of you."

That was that. Rathor up and left without another word, leaving Skjal and his team to scramble after him—and Hilde to stare in resigned disbelief.

As for the rest, Eddur was the first to get up from his corner and glide across the room to the exit. His fellow Kronvakt followed, one by one, until Hilde and the outrealmers were the only ones left in the mess hall. The manta ray then dropped her shoulders and mumbled, "Meeting dismissed," before herself turning and exiting the room.

Serac glanced at Zacko, and was met by a what're-you-gonna-do smirk. The Rakshasa didn't know much, but she thought she understood what had just happened, at least from the Kronvakt Captain's perspective.

In one stroke, Rathor had pleased nearly everyone in the room. First, he agreed with Eddur and the majority of the Kronvakt, who seemed reluctant to get involved in the affairs lower down in the Realm. Second, he redirected Skjal's gung-ho energy onto himself, in the form of an invitation the latter couldn't refuse.

The only one left in the lurch had been Hilde, but Serac sensed this too was strategic on Rathor's part. Such was the manta-ray woman's devotion to her prince that she would back him no matter what. In fact, if Serac had the right read on things, Rathor's open disregard for Hilde only made the latter's 'love' for him burn hotter.

Serac let out an involuntary shudder. As if it weren't enough for palace life to be so regimented and tedious, did it also have to be so messy beneath the surface? At any rate, it was time for her and Zacko to start their day.

"What do you reckon?" the Manusya asked as the two of them left the mess hall behind. "The Pasture again? Stock up on more 'ammo' for your new spell?"

"I think so." Serac had since made peace with her mixed feelings about 'farming' the Calmspawns. She did, however, limit herself to one smite per Aberrant species as a personal rule. "Our schedule's free until lunch; we might as well make use of it. But what's more important is to figure what we're doing tonight. I think aimless sneaking can only get us so far, and it's time we changed our approach."

"I agree, but what options do we have? At this point, we've explored pretty much every corner of the palace and still no dice. The only place we haven't looked into is the Apical Bough. If we haven't roused any suspicion yet, that'll definitely change once we start sneaking into the royal family's bedrooms. The one potential lead we had was Pete, but then he's gone AWOL on us ever since his transmutation."

Serac dropped her shoulders and sighed. It'd been a week since the scare at the brig, a week that passed with no further sign of Petter anywhere in the palace. She was even starting to doubt her and Zacko's conclusion—that their mackerel friend had escaped captivity using his newfound Wayfaring powers. Perhaps he really had perished inside that dark, lonely cell…

Speaking of dark, lonely places, the outrealmers were now back in the Pasture—also known as the Royal Hunting Grounds. More specifically, they'd entered an artificial 'cave' built entirely of layered amber, home to the Tamped versions of cave-dwelling Wildspawns.

Chiefly, these consisted of your Slangespytts and Rumpetrolls, but Serac was only interested in the latter so she could [Harvest] some tadpole goop. Ideally, she wanted to 'Untamp' a whole swarm of them and get them to combine into a Rumpejette—bigger bang for her Cartridge buck. But so far, everything she'd come across were individual cubes—perfectly 'Calm' and ready for the taking, but not fit for her purpose.

Serac and Zacko decided to go further. Deeper into the cave, the layers of petrified sap thickened, thus shutting out outside light and turning the color of amber into the gloomy dark of burnt resin. Perhaps no real obstacle for seasoned ripple-readers, but the outrealmers were thankful for the dim jade-green emitted by their [Abyssal Plates].

And it was in this near-total darkness that Serac's horns did pick up on a signal. A region of attenuation straight ahead on the footpath. Something—no, someone solid and Yaksha-sized where the ripples bounced and settled.

Serac tensed as she realized that the figure was labeled by Pathsight. Kronvakt then? What were they doing here and how much had they heard of her and Zacko's conversation? But then the figure drew closer, and so too did their label—until the words filtered through the turmoil in Serac's mind:

[Designation: PETTER SVENSEN]

[Wayfarer Race: YAKSHA]

[Karmic Level: 1]

[Liminal Karma: 0 क]

[ZEALOUS Instrument: MATCHSTICK]

[Auxiliary: SHAKER]

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.