Chapter 13: The Great Sage

For several seconds after Nemris left, neither Zeria nor I said anything.

The wooden doors settled shut behind the Lord Commander with a low, final thump.

Silence followed.

A very large silence.

The kind you only noticed when the room was big enough to have its own weather system.

I remained where I was, glancing toward the closed doors.

Zeria did the same.

Then her shoulders relaxed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough that I realized she had been behaving slightly differently while Nemris was present.

Less carefree.

Marginally.

Which, considering she had launched herself into Nemris's arms like an affectionate missile approximately two minutes ago, raised serious questions about what Zeria considered restraint.

She wandered toward one of the enormous windows.

Sunlight poured over her golden hair, turning the strands almost white at the edges.

Her bare feet made barely any sound against the polished floor.

I watched her tail sway gently behind her.

Then she spoke.

"Please don't misunderstand Nemris."

I raised an eyebrow.

"That's an interesting opening."

Zeria looked outside.

"The way she treated you might make her seem unpleasant."

"She did threaten me with her eyes several times."

"That's normal."

"Comforting."

Zeria smiled.

"She's actually the kindest person I know."

That made me look toward the door again.

"The armored woman who looked like she was deciding whether burying me required royal paperwork?"

"That one."

"Very warm personality."

Zeria laughed softly.

Then her expression became more thoughtful.

"Nemris isn't good at showing kindness to people she doesn't trust."

"Understandable."

"Especially strangers."

"Also understandable."

"Especially strange strangers."

I put a hand against my chest.

"Now we're profiling."

She turned toward me with an amused look.

"But once she cares about someone, she cares completely."

There was something sincere in her voice.

No teasing.

No childish energy.

Just affection.

I nodded slowly.

"I could tell."

Zeria blinked.

"You could?"

"The way she talks to you."

I walked toward one of the chairs.

"She treats everyone else like they're being inspected for structural weaknesses."

Zeria covered a laugh.

"But with you?"

I sat.

"She looks irritated, but the protective kind."

"The protective kind of irritated?"

"Very distinct category."

I crossed one ankle over the other.

"Like someone standing beside a toddler carrying a knife. They're angry, but mostly because they know someone has to remain responsible."

Zeria stared at me.

Then burst out laughing.

"I am not a toddler!"

"Nemris disagrees spiritually."

"I am older than you."

"Two years does not protect you from metaphor."

She walked over and sat in the chair across from me.

Her legs barely seemed to touch the floor.

Which did not help her argument.

"I like Nemris."

I shrugged.

"Give me enough time and she'll probably like me too."

Zeria's brows rose.

"You think so?"

"Eventually."

"She threatened you."

"Plenty of relationships begin with hostility."

She stared.

"Do they?"

"Healthy ones? Less often."

Her smile widened.

I leaned back.

"I've met women much more difficult than your Lord Commander."

"Nemris isn't difficult."

"She's wearing enough emotional armor to match the metal."

Zeria giggled.

Then her eyes sparkled with the unmistakable expression of someone preparing gossip.

"You know something funny?"

"Always interested."

"Nemris doesn't actually like fighting very much."

I looked at her.

Then at the door.

Then back at Zeria.

"The Lord Commander of the kingdom's knights."

"Yes."

"The woman wearing enough gold-plated combat equipment to bankrupt a medium-sized church."

"Yes."

"Doesn't enjoy fighting."

Zeria nodded enthusiastically.

I considered that.

"Huh."

"You don't believe me?"

"No, actually."

I rested my chin against one hand.

"I can."

That seemed to surprise her.

"Really?"

"People rarely look exactly like what they want."

I gestured toward myself.

"For example, I look like a respectable young man."

Zeria examined me.

"You do?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"That hesitation wounded me."

She laughed.

"So what does Nemris actually enjoy?"

Zeria leaned forward as if revealing state secrets.

"Books."

I blinked.

"Books."

"She loves reading."

"Lord Commander Nemris Goldmane."

"Yes."

"Would rather sit somewhere quietly with a book."

"Yes!"

I smiled.

"That is adorable."

Zeria's face brightened.

"I tell her that too."

"Does she like hearing it?"

"No."

"Even better."

Zeria adjusted herself in the chair.

"She wanted to become a librarian."

That got me.

I sat straighter.

"You're serious."

"Completely."

"Nemris wanted to spend her life organizing shelves."

"And reading."

"Instead she's commanding the entire Knights Order."

Zeria nodded.

"Her magical potential was too great."

"Ah."

There it was.

The fantasy-world equivalent of your parents discovering you were naturally gifted at mathematics and immediately deleting your dream of becoming a musician.

"The kingdom decided it would be wasteful to let someone that powerful become a librarian," Zeria continued.

I looked toward the door again.

That explained something about Nemris.

Not everything.

But something.

"So they decided her career for her."

Zeria's smile faded a little.

"More or less."

"That sounds terrible."

"It was."

"You didn't stop them?"

"I was younger."

A tiny seriousness entered her eyes.

"And even now, there are some decisions I cannot simply reverse."

Interesting.

Great Sage.

Second only to the king in importance.

Yet not free to fix everything she disliked.

Power remained annoyingly complicated regardless of universe.

Zeria brightened again before the mood could settle too deeply.

"But she still reads whenever she has time."

"What kind of books?"

Her grin became suspicious.

"Oh, she has one favorite."

"Go on."

"A collection of legends about the Unbound Race."

Something about the phrase caught my attention.

"Unbound Race?"

Zeria watched me.

"Humans."

My body went still.

Not visibly, I hoped.

But internally, every alarm bell had just been handed a hammer.

Zeria giggled.

"Nothing interests Nemris more."

I stared at her.

Her expression remained cheerful.

Too cheerful.

"She has read every old record she could find about humanity. Historical fragments, legends, excavated tablets, stories copied from older stories."

"That's quite a hobby."

"Obsession might be more accurate."

"That makes me feel extremely safe around her."

Zeria laughed.

Then she watched me.

Carefully.

There it was again.

That feeling.

Like she knew the punchline and was politely waiting for me to catch up.

I narrowed my eyes.

"You didn't bring me here to tell me your friend's embarrassing career ambitions."

"No."

"Or her reading preferences."

"No."

I leaned back.

"Thought so."

Zeria folded her hands on her lap.

For the first time since Nemris had left, something about her changed.

She was still smiling.

Still Zeria.

But the childish looseness faded around the edges.

Her posture straightened.

Her blue eyes sharpened.

Suddenly I understood why an entire kingdom called this barefoot woman in a flowered dress the Great Sage.

"Humanity disappeared thousands of years ago."

Her voice was quiet.

I said nothing.

"No one knows exactly why."

She continued.

"There are theories."

"Naturally."

"War. Divine punishment. Some great magical disaster. Self-destruction. Others believe humans simply left."

"Left where?"

"No one knows."

"Excellent theory."

A small smile touched her lips.

"The evidence is incomplete."

"History usually is."

Zeria studied me.

"But the surviving accounts agree on certain things."

My humor faded slightly.

"What things?"

"Humans were powerful."

That one I had gathered.

"A single human could change the fate of a kingdom."

She lifted one finger.

"Sometimes destroy one."

Another finger.

"Sometimes create one."

A third.

"In war, if a human openly supported one side, the opposing side often surrendered before the fighting properly began."

I stared at her.

"That seems dramatic."

"The old records are dramatic."

"Old historians loved marketing."

"Perhaps."

Zeria's eyes did not leave mine.

"But the consistency is interesting."

I thought about what Agrus had said.

Humans learn anything.

Humans were destruction.

Legends.

My own abilities.

The way my body had learned chopping, crafting, cooking, weapons, the Brown Boar's charge, Berserker Aura.

Maybe the legends were exaggerated.

Maybe not by much.

Zeria continued.

"Some writings describe humans defeating armies alone."

"That seems rude."

"Others claim humans could learn almost any skill they observed."

Ah.

There it was.

My smile thinned.

"Very convenient."

"Isn't it?"

"Depends on whether you're the human."

Zeria's smile became knowing.

She was enjoying this.

Not maliciously.

But absolutely enjoying it.

"Many scholars reject those records entirely."

"Smart people."

"They believe humans never existed."

"Even smarter."

"They argue humanity is simply a distorted Spriggan legend."

I tilted my head.

Zeria did the same.

"After all," she said, "Spriggans and humans supposedly looked almost identical."

There was enough meaning in that sentence to sink a ship.

"Supposedly."

"Yes."

"Funny coincidence."

"Very."

Zeria smiled.

I stared back.

Nobody spoke.

It became a game.

Whoever admitted it first lost.

I was excellent at stupid games.

Zeria was apparently better.

Her eyes moved briefly toward my back.

Still covered.

Then back to my face.

My mind replayed Silverclaw.

Agrus yelling about my lack of markings.

Every villager realizing what I was.

The knights arriving days later looking for a "Spriggan" dropped from the heavens on a giant hand.

Great Sage Zeria had seen me clearly in that vision.

Clearly enough to recognize my face.

Clearly enough to know my clothes had changed.

So...

She knew.

Of course she knew.

The little menace had known before I entered the room.

I slowly smiled.

"You don't actually think I'm a Spriggan."

Zeria's smile widened.

No denial.

No surprise.

Nothing.

She simply watched me.

I laughed once under my breath.

"There it is."

She placed one finger against her lips.

"Shhh."

That gesture answered everything.

For one absurd second, the Great Sage looked like a child hiding stolen sweets.

"Human," she whispered.

I stared at her.

She looked delighted.

"To think I would actually see one."

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"I had time to prepare."

"How much?"

"A few days."

"That's not enough time to emotionally prepare for an extinct species walking into your bedroom."

"I am unusually efficient."

I nodded.

"Finally. Something we have in common."

She giggled.

Then lowered her hand.

"I won't tell anyone."

"Nobody?"

"Not yet."

That interested me more than the discovery itself.

"Not even Nemris?"

Zeria smiled mischievously.

"Our secret."

I stared at her for another second.

Then laughed.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I understand the title now."

She tilted her head.

"Which title?"

"Great Sage."

Her face lit up.

"You finally recognize my magnificence?"

"Let's not injure ourselves with enthusiasm."

She laughed brightly.

And just like that, the intimidating intelligence disappeared back underneath the cheerful exterior.

Not gone.

Hidden.

Like a sword inside a stuffed animal.

Dangerously adorable packaging.

"You flatter me, Little Brother."

I pointed at her.

"We need boundaries around that title."

"No."

"I object."

"Denied."

"Can I appeal?"

"To me."

"Corrupt system."

Zeria smiled sweetly.

I leaned forward.

"So why keep it secret?"

Her expression became more serious again.

"Because revealing you now would create chaos."

"That seems dramatic."

"It isn't."

She folded her hands.

"Kings would hear."

"Kings hear a lot."

"Other kingdoms would send representatives."

"Annoying."

"Some would send assassins."

"Less annoying. More stabby."

"Religious groups would argue about what your arrival means."

"Oh, fantastic."

"Scholars would want to study you."

"Hard no."

"Military leaders would want your allegiance."

"Also no."

"Some nations might start wars simply because they believe another kingdom could gain control of you first."

I stopped joking.

Zeria watched me.

"Humanity is remembered as power, Caled."

That sentence carried weight.

"Not a person."

"Not always."

"That's reassuring."

"It shouldn't be."

She was right.

Annoying habit.

"If word spreads that a living human has returned after thousands of years, people will not agree on what you are."

She counted softly on her fingers.

"Weapon. Miracle. Threat. Opportunity. Divine messenger. Historical proof."

"Handsome traveler."

Zeria paused.

Then smiled.

"I forgot that one."

"Common oversight."

"But yes."

Her expression softened.

"They will want something from you before they even know you."

I stared toward the window.

That sounded unpleasantly familiar in a broader human sense.

"Then when does the secret come out?"

"It will."

"You sound confident."

"I am."

"When?"

"When you're ready."

I looked at her.

She shook her head.

"No."

"No?"

"I will not reveal you."

"Then who will?"

Zeria's entire body suddenly filled with energy.

She sprang from the chair.

Actually sprang.

One second she was sitting.

The next she was standing directly in front of me.

She pointed dramatically at my chest.

"You."

I looked down at her finger.

Then at her.

"Me."

"Yes."

"Your grand strategy is to make the walking political disaster announce himself."

"Exactly."

"Bold."

She clasped her hands behind her back.

"It's your existence."

"Strong argument."

"Your identity should belong to you."

That shut me up for half a second.

Which probably deserved documentation.

Zeria continued.

"I can advise you. I can protect your secret while it is practical. But I won't decide when the world gets to know what you are."

I stared at her.

There was more wisdom in that than I wanted to admit.

Then another question arrived.

"If announcing me could start wars, why bring me here?"

Zeria answered instantly.

"Because I'd rather be your ally."

I blinked.

"That's refreshingly direct."

"Thank you."

"Although sending armed knights to collect me at swordpoint was an unusual opening move for friendship."

Her cheerful confidence collapsed slightly.

"Yes."

"Very unusual."

"I apologize."

"Nemris called it a summons."

"That was my fault."

"Technically, your diplomacy began with kidnapping."

Zeria winced.

"When you say it like that, it sounds terrible."

"Words are magical."

"I wanted Nemris to bring you safely."

"She certainly emphasized the bring."

Zeria pressed her palms together.

"I'm sorry."

The apology sounded genuine.

I let her suffer for another two seconds.

Then shrugged.

"I've experienced worse first dates."

Zeria tilted her head.

"Date?"

"Never mind."

She looked suspiciously curious.

I redirected before explaining myself into trouble.

"So how exactly do you plan to make up for my royal abduction?"

Zeria brightened.

"I'll help you."

"Very broad."

"I can give you a good beginning here."

"In the capital?"

"Yes."

She walked back toward the chair.

"I know merchants, scholars, guild officials, nobles, military officers, healers, mages..."

"You collect important people?"

"Connections are useful."

"That sounded ominously political."

"I am the Great Sage."

"Sometimes I forget."

Her eyes narrowed playfully.

"I could help you find work if you wanted."

"Possible."

"Information."

"More interesting."

"Access to places ordinary travelers cannot enter."

"Very interesting."

"Introductions to people who might know something about ancient humanity."

There.

That was the important one.

I looked at her.

She noticed.

"Exactly."

I leaned back.

"Don't get too excited. I'm not planning to settle here permanently."

"I know."

No hesitation.

She smiled.

"I won't try to keep you."

"Good."

"But you should remain in the capital for a little while."

"Why?"

"Because leaving immediately would waste opportunities."

Fair.

Annoyingly fair.

"You have questions."

"Several thousand."

"Inizio's capital has libraries, archives, guilds, scholars, merchants from foreign kingdoms."

She leaned toward me.

"And privileges are useful."

"Privilege."

"Mine."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You keep offering useful things."

"Do you dislike useful things?"

"No."

"Then?"

"I'm starting to suspect you want something."

Zeria's smile grew.

"Everyone wants something."

"That's not a denial."

"No."

I pointed at her.

"There. That."

She giggled.

"You are interesting."

"That's what dangerous people say before assigning quests."

"I like you."

I stared at her.

"Careful."

She blinked.

"What?"

"The last woman who told me that eventually took me alone to a river."

Zeria's head tilted.

"In order to swim?"

I stared.

She stared back.

Completely innocent.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

She had no idea.

This woman could apparently understand the geopolitical consequences of a human reappearing after millennia, predict continent-level instability, manipulate royal resources, and read ancient history.

But sexual implication?

Empty room.

Lights off.

Nobody home.

A fascinating imbalance.

"Sure," I said.

"Swimming."

She smiled.

"That sounds nice."

"Extremely."

Maybe one day someone would explain it to her.

Preferably not me.

Actually...

My mind immediately began generating possibilities.

No.

Behave.

Or at least postpone not behaving.

Zeria clasped her hands.

"I will arrange for you to meet His Majesty."

"The king."

"Yes."

"I thought he was occupied."

"He is."

"Personally."

She gave me a strange look.

"Nemris told you that?"

"Very reluctantly."

Zeria covered a laugh.

"Then we'll wait."

"What would meeting the king accomplish?"

"Access."

"More privilege."

"Much more."

She began counting on her fingers.

"Recognition from His Majesty would open doors most people spend their entire lives begging outside."

"I've always preferred windows."

"Guilds would take you seriously."

"Useful."

"Nobles would hesitate before causing problems."

"Very useful."

"Officials would answer questions."

"Extremely useful."

Zeria smiled.

"And you could decide whether Inizio deserves your trust."

That phrasing caught me.

Not whether I deserved theirs.

Whether they deserved mine.

Smart.

Very smart.

"You're really trying to become my ally."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

"Better ally than enemy."

She nodded.

"Exactly."

"Practical."

"I prefer honest."

I smiled.

"I think we're going to get along."

"I think so too, Little Brother."

"Still rejecting that."

"Still denied."

I sighed.

"Fine."

Zeria looked delighted with her victory.

"For now," she said, "you don't need to worry about anything."

"Historically dangerous sentence."

"You should explore."

"The capital?"

"The city. Castle grounds. Markets. Wherever interests you."

"Can I simply wander around?"

"Mostly."

That mostly concerned me.

Before I could ask, Zeria reached into a small pocket hidden along the side of her dress.

She pulled something out.

A metal insignia.

Gold.

Small enough to fit comfortably in my palm.

She stepped closer and handed it to me.

I examined it.

The symbol depicted the same lion I had seen throughout the castle, but surrounded by an intricate circular pattern.

Magic shimmered faintly across its surface.

"This looks expensive."

"It probably is."

"Comforting financial awareness."

Zeria pointed toward it.

"That insignia proves you have my personal approval."

I looked up.

"Your approval?"

"Anyone familiar with royal authority will recognize it."

"What does it let me do?"

"Enter the castle without being treated as an intruder."

"Excellent. I dislike arrows."

"Access certain restricted areas."

"Better."

"Speak with officials who might otherwise ignore you."

"Useful."

"And visit me."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Whenever?"

"If I'm here."

"For anything?"

"Of course."

I slowly smiled.

Zeria blinked.

There it was again.

Innocence.

Pure, catastrophic innocence.

"Anything?"

I deliberately put a little extra meaning into the word.

Nothing obscene.

Nothing explicit.

Just enough that anyone with experience would have immediately understood the road I was suggesting.

Zeria's eyebrows drew together.

She looked genuinely confused about why I had emphasized it.

I almost felt guilty.

Almost.

She was brilliant.

Terrifyingly perceptive about history, politics, people, and probably magic.

Yet some entire category of human interaction had apparently been left out of her education like an optional school subject nobody remembered to schedule.

A wise little sage with absolutely no defense against innuendo.

That was dangerous.

For me.

Potentially for her.

Probably for civilization.

My imagination immediately tried opening several doors.

I closed them.

For now.

Zeria looked at me with that same innocent smile.

Then she nodded.

"Anything."