Chapter 26: A Royal Pain in the Neck

I self-edit and admit editing isn’t my greatest skill. I apologize in advance for anything I missed.

Selene considered her options and frowned.

She was standing at a four-way intersection of dirt roads in the forest. She looked at the ground, trying to determine which direction the men who’d kidnapped her had come from, but it was hopeless. There were horse tracks going in every direction and it was impossible to tell which ones belonged to her now-deceased kidnappers.

She looked at the sky and grimaced. It was late afternoon and the sun had dipped low enough that it was just visible through the tree canopy. It was still quite light out, but wouldn’t be for long and she had no idea what kind of predators were in these woods.

From a tree branch that overhung the intersection, someone had hung a wooden sign with a slightly crude picture of a food-covered plate with heat waves coming from it, and a bed next to it. An arrow at the bottom of the sign pointed in one direction, and she thought she could make out some smoke in the far distance. A hot meal and a bed sounded really good, but she didn’t have a lot of money to pay for them

She checked the coin purse and found two silver coins and a half dozen copper ones. She didn’t want to spend the little money that she had, but it would be better than starving or sleeping out in the elements. That went double because there could be woodland predators nearby. The last thing she wanted to meet was this world’s version of a bobcat or bear.

She also couldn’t see much difference between the roads, so she figured why shouldn’t she try the one with an inn?

Ethan followed Delabor up the impressive wooden steps toward the wood elven palace, absolutely amazed at the level of craftsmanship. Like the room that his wives were probably still marveling at, the stairs had subtle carvings all over them. He assumed they were made from enchanted boards because otherwise the intricate carvings would’ve worn off ages ago.

If the steps were impressive, the carvings once inside the palace were even more so.

It seemed like every inch of the walls inside were covered with the most ornate carvings that he could’ve imagined. Some were so lifelike and intricate that he would’ve thought they were real if they weren’t the color of wood. Some were even made from different types of wood with different colors, giving them even more depth and texture. It was impressive that a craftsman could fit them together so well and he found himself staring at them as he walked.

He wasn’t the only one staring either.

He was used to blending in because the disguise gem concealed his draconic body. However, he had it turned off now and there was definitely a difference. Curiously, none seemed to be afraid of him. It seemed more like awe than anything else. There was a small army of guards in the palace, lining every wall. They looked at him with the same awe and curiosity he saw from everyone else, though being guards there was wariness in their gaze too.

“Is everyone staring because I’m a dragon, or some other reason?” He asked the Herald.

“Word of your fame has spread throughout the land.” Delabor replied. “They most assuredly feel honored to be in the presence of a prophet of Illuminar — blessed be He.”

“I’m not a prophet of Illuminar.” Ethan said with a resigned sigh. He somehow got the feeling that no matter how many times he said it, it wouldn’t sink in.

Problems? Alana though to him.

*Yes master, you seem ... annoyed?”

They won’t stop calling me a prophet. He replied shaking his head. He could feel their amusement over his bonds with them as he continued. I feel like I’m going to stick my foot in my mouth in less than ten seconds; I wish I could’ve brought you all.

Yes, that is odd. Beth thought back. Its customary to receive a man with his wife, and I think it’s tradition among the wood elves too.

Wait, they broke with tradition? He frowned. Isn’t that a sin for them or something?

I’ll ask Rachel about it, she might have some insight. Alana replied.

Ethan was struck by a vague sense of annoyance that Rachel wasn’t part of their mental group chat. He didn’t have time to consider that though because Delabor had just stopped in front of two massive doors. The carvings on it were so lifelike that he would’ve sworn he was looking at two people with wood-colored skin.

“The entrance to the throne room.” Delabor announced proudly. “Now, I must make sure you know the proper protocols to honor the king of the wood elves. Have you been so instructed?”

“Uh, no.”

“First and most importantly, you must never do anything that could possibly be construed as disrespectful. You must also bow reverently, as befits one of his high status.”

“Okay, bowing I can do.”

“Second, you must never contradict the king, nor even disagree with him.”

Ethan raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“He is the king.” The herald said as if that explained everything. “To disagree with him in his own palace would be a terrible slight.”

“What if I think he’s wrong about something?”

Delabor looked at him like a nobleman might look at a rube from the sticks. “He is the king, anointed by Illuminar Himself — blessed be He — how could he be wrong?”

Ethan blinked.

“Third, you must never turn your back on him; to do so would be an insult, and no one may insult the king.”

“Okay.” He nodded, trying to figure out how to prevent this from being a total disaster.

This is not going to go well. He thought to his wives.

Rachel and I were talking. Alana replied. We both agree that it would probably be safer if you didn’t make any statements, but phrased everything as a question instead.

I’ll try. He shook his head, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Delabor bowed to the two guards in ornate uniforms who were standing by the two handles to the double doors. The guards each grabbed a door handle and pulled, opening the door to the throne room so he could meet this mysterious king.

Selene had probably walked a couple miles down the road when it opened onto what looked like a trade station or outpost, which was set at another four-way intersection of two roads. The outpost had a blacksmith’s shop, an inn, a tavern, a store of some kind, and about a dozen other buildings; all of wattle and daub construction, and some of which looked abandoned.

The place had a slightly run-down look to it; like a city past its prime. It didn’t look seedy or dirty, but it did look like it had seen better days. There was another road going through the outpost which was perpendicular to the one that she was on. It was wider, and seemed like it had seen a lot of traffic at one time. However, there were a few small weeds sprouting on the path, so she guessed traffic had dwindled in recent years.

By now, the sun was getting a bit low so she headed towards the inn, which had a sign identical to the one back at the crossroads.

Opening the door, she walked inside.

The inn looked much like the rest of the outpost. It wasn’t dirty, unkempt, or seedy, but it certainly had seen better days. The fire in the hearth was a bit small for the room, the rugs were a bit threadbare, and everything looked like it was being kept in service slightly past its prime. There were some men in the inn sitting at various tables, mostly eating and talking amongst themselves.

“Welcome stranger.” A pleasant female voice said from her right.

Selene turned to see a girl in her teens pause sweeping the floor to welcome her. Her clothes and shoes matched the rest of the inn and town at large: nice, but well-worn and past their prime. Her hair was brown and long, but it wasn’t the usual healthy, vibrant hair you might expect on a girl her age.

“Hi.” Selene replied. “What’s a bed and a meal cost?”

“One silver.” She replied cheerfully. “And that includes breakfast for your husband as well.”

“I don’t have a husband.”

“You travel these roads all by yourself?” The girl’s eyes got huge and she glanced at Selene’s sword. “You must be invincible with a blade.” She seemed excited at the prospect.

Selene shrugged. “How much for just me?”

“Ten coppers.” The girl replied, clearly impressed.

The ex-FBI agent considered for a minute.

She had two silver coins and six copper ones. Simple math said that ten coppers was half a silver, so she had enough for four nights. She definitely didn’t want to spend all her money on food and a place to sleep, but she was very hungry, tired, and it would be dark soon. She sighed, fished a silver coin out of her bag, and extended it towards the girl.

The girl took a step back and waved her hands. “No, father doesn’t let me handle the money.” Something in her eyes looked slightly hurt as she said that.

“Where can I find your father then?”

The girl pointed to a slightly overweight man sitting in a rocking chair by the fire. “That’s him.”

“Thank you.” Selene said to the girl, and then walked over to the man. “I’d like a bed and meal.”

The man looked at her like he was undressing her with his eyes, and only took his eyes off her body when he saw the silver coin in her hand. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“That’ll be one silver for you and your husband.” He replied.

“Just me.” Selene corrected him.

“Then it’ll be ten coppers ... unless you want to pay another way.” His eyes raked over her body again.

“Ten coppers it is.” She said firmly.

He looked disappointed, but shrugged, produced a small coin pouch and fished out ten coppers, which he traded for her silver coin.

“Sarah, get this wench a meal.” The man called to his daughter over his shoulder.

Selene suppressed a grimace; this was the first time she’d been called a ‘wench’ before and she certainly didn’t enjoy it.

“Yes father.” The girl who’d greeted her replied instantly, and then scampered off towards what Selene assumed was the kitchen.

Her father looked bored and world-weary as he looked back at Selene. “Make yourself at home; she’ll be out in a bit.”

Selene walked to the only unoccupied table in the room. Thankfully, she could put her back to the wall while sitting in it, which she preferred ever since her training at the academy. Barely a minute later, the girl came out carrying a crude bowl made of pottery and a flagon of something, both of which she set down in front of the Brazilian woman.

“I do hope you enjoy it.” Sarah said. “I tried a slightly different mix of herbs from my garden this time.”

The stew wasn’t bad. Not incredible, though that wasn’t because of the seasoning. The meat was overcooked to a leathery texture and the vegetables were mush, but Selene suspected that was because of the girl’s father and not the girl herself. The seasoning was excellent, even if the solid bits left something to be desired.

“It’s good.” Selene said honestly.

“So what’s the news?” Sarah asked after making sure her father wasn’t paying attention. Selene remembered from Smithbond’s briefing that visitors to inns and taverns were often asked to share the news from where they were from. It was how news often spread among the common folk before modern communications.

“Same old, same old.” Selene sighed. “Governments are corrupt, common folk work hard, and life is full of surprises.”

The girl nodded, but looked excited about something that she was nervous to ask about.

“What’s on your mind?” Selene asked.

“Is there any news of the dragon?” She whispered excitedly.

“What dragon?”

Sarah looked at her in disbelief. “The dragon; the prophet of Illuminar — blessed be He — the one who raised the dead and summoned lightning.”

Selene had heard most of what Hailey had explained about this world, but none of this sounded familiar. The willowy woman had steadfastly refused to say anything about Ethan to their captors, so she knew nothing of his exploits here. She did know that Ethan had somehow used electricity to shock her, but the girl couldn’t be talking about Ethan, could she? I mean, he hadn’t exactly used lightning, though it had definitely been something electrical.

In the end, Selene decided to dodge the question. “I’ve been out in the wilderness for a while and missed the news.”

Sarah looked excited all of a sudden. “Everyone’s talking about it! This dragon fought against a hundred men in the arena and beat them all. He struck down the final enemy with a lightning bolt from heaven, and then raised her from the dead!”

“Wow, that’s ... that sounds impressive.” Selene admitted.

“But that’s not all. He helped some gold miners by defeating a dragon twice his size, then he killed a necromancer and his army. No one’s sure how big the necromancer’s army was, but I’ll bet it was huge!” She then lowered her voice. “I’ve even heard rumors lately that he killed a Drago to defend those same miners.”

That caught Selene’s attention.

Hailey had explained about both dragons and Dragos and how powerful the latter were. The way she described them, it sounded like they were basically this word’s version of Superman; ultra-fast, super-strong, and damn near invincible.

“He seems ... impressive.” She finally said.

“He is!” The girl gushed. “The whole countryside is talking about him. He’s done such wonderful things and there hasn’t been a prophet of Illuminar since ... well, since long before I was born. And for Him to choose a dragon? That’s just ... just wow.”

“Does this dragon have a name?”

“Ethan.” Sarah nodded in awe. “His name is Ethan Ejder.”

Selene felt her jaw drop.

It was Ethan?

The man — err, dragon — who’d beaten her like she was a child? He was a prophet? A slayer of Dragos and powerful enough to slay one hundred men? She suspected that some parts of the tale might’ve grown in the retelling, but even so it was still impressive.

As she remembered her last encounter with him, her body began to remember too. Something about the way he had looked at her had lit a fire in her loins that she hadn’t been able to forget. Being as beautiful as she was, she’d never had someone look at her with such ... such ... disdain; like she was beneath him and he was trying to decide if she was worth his time. She hated it, and hated how it made her feel, but for some reason it also made her horny whenever she thought of it.

Sarah eyed her curiously. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“Once.” Selene nodded before she thought to stop herself.

The girl looked like Christmas had come early as her eyes grew wide. “What’s he like?”

“He’s ... he’s hard to describe.”

“Please try?”

She considered for a moment, trying to decide what to say. He had been supremely confident in the clearing by the portal, but caring too. The stories that Sarah told made him sound like a hero. Then she remembered that the portals were powered by death magic and frowned.

She really wasn’t sure what to make of him.

Ethan wasn’t really sure what to make of the throne room. It was very large; probably fifty feet wide and half that again long. There was an isle down the center which was lined with what he initially though were columns, but then realize were actually trees or vertical tree branches; he wasn’t sure which. They came up from beneath the wooden floor, which was as intricately carved as anything he’d seen, maybe more so.

The walls were similarly adorned with carvings, plus many magnificent stained glass windows that depicted both great battles and Illuminar in equal measure. The ceiling curved inward and was clearly made from living trees that had been made to grow together.

There were a lot of wood elves in the room, all with very fine clothing and superior looks on their faces. Standing out from the rest was an elf in robes of the purest white and adorned with a golden sun made from gold thread and gold adornments. He was standing near the throne and looked like a priest of some kind, but had a calculating look that Ethan found odd given his obviously religious affiliation.

At the far end of the room was the king, sitting on a wooden throne of such incredible artwork, he thought Alana might cry at its beauty if she ever saw it.

“Oh great king, live forever.” Delabor said with a deep bow when they had approached the throne. “I bring you Ethan Ejder, called Illuminar’s Prophet.”

Ethan suppressed a grimace at being called a prophet again, but resisted the urge to correct the elf and then imitated the Herald’s bow as best he could.

“Approach, Ethan Illuminar’s prophet.” The king said as he stood.

The king was very tall for a wood elf, which meant he was about as tall as Rachel, who was an inch shorter than he himself was. He looked very regal, wearing robes of deep brown that resembled a tree trunk. On his upper torso they became green and resembled the canopy of a tree. He had a short, well-groomed beard and a short hair; both of which were a light brown color. His face reminded Ethan of Pierce Brosnan in his early days of playing James Bond, though with a short beard.

“Welcome honored dragon.” The king said in a deep, confident voice. “You do us great honor by gracing our palace with the presence of a prophet of Illuminar — blessed be He.”

Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but then remember he wasn’t supposed to disagree with the king.

How the hell do I tell the king I’m not a prophet of Illuminar without telling he was wrong by calling me one? He asked his wives.

Try asking why he thinks you’re a prophet? Alana suggested.

“Um, your majesty, why do you think I’m a prophet?”

The king looked almost confused. “No one but a prophet of Illuminar — blessed be He – can raise the dead or call forth lightning. Lightning is the pure weapon of the God of Light, which was forged so no evil one could ever wield it.”

Ethan frowned.

He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but their culture seemed to think it was wrong to tell the king he was wrong. How the hell did you get around that?

“Look, I know you think I’m a prophet, but is it possible you’ve been misinformed?” He finally said, trying to phrase it as a question.

Almost instantly, the entire hall erupted in gasps. The men began to whisper to each other in an almost agitated manner.

Shit.

“You dare to correct the king?” The priestly elf said, sounding incensed.

“I didn’t correct him, I just asked if it was possible that he’d been misinformed.”

More gasps and more whispering.

“Peace.” The king said, and instantly the whispering died down. Once it had, the king turned to Ethan. “Dragon, you say that you are not a prophet of Illuminar — blessed be He.”

“No, I’m not.”

You could hear a pin drop.

Not a single person in the hall made a sound.

“Hmm.” The king mused. “Much depends on our terms then. Define a prophet.”

“I don’t know? Someone who God talks to directly, who is then supposed to tell other people about the message?” He shrugged.

The wood elf king sat back down on this throne and steepled his fingertips together. Ethan got the impression that he was a clever, shrewd man. Not ‘shrewd’ in a bad sense, but that he was sharp and perceptive.

The king spoke after several seconds. “You claim that Illuminar — blessed be He — has never spoken directly to you, yet you have wielded His lightning. This is a wondrous puzzle indeed.”

“Pardon me my king, but does he not blaspheme Illuminar — blessed be He?” The elf in priestly robes asked while giving Ethan a scorching look.

“Perhaps.” The king mused dismissively, but didn’t look convinced. While his eyes never left Ethan, his next sentence wasn’t addressed to him. “Plesius, in the Book of Light there is a hero to whom Illuminar — blessed be He — gave miraculous powers yet never spoke to him.”

“You are wise my king.” Plesius the priest replied. “There is Eluzai, to whom Illuminar — blessed be He — granted miraculous strength, although The God of Light never communicated directly with him, as you yourself already know my king.”

“Honored dragon, this might be the case the case with you.” The king stated, all but ignoring the priest.

Plesius did not look happy. He wasn’t sure why, but guessed it was because the king — whose name he still didn’t know — had directly contradicted him.

Yes, the high priest looked very unhappy indeed.

“But my king.” Plesius said with a sinister smile while looking directly at Ethan. “Would the all-righteous God of Light chose someone as His prophet who travels with — and has wed — such disgraceful women?”

Ethan wasn’t even aware of letting his claws out, nor crouching in a clearly predatory stance as he growled. “What?”

Plesius took a step back so he was slightly behind the guards surrounding the throne before he spoke again. “You wed a Fey and travel with a disowned lord’s daughter, bringing dishonor on yourself. Why do you think only you were invited to the palace?”

Ethan flexed his hands, trying to keep the urge to disembowel the man at bay. He looked towards the king. “Is this true?”

The king looked almost sad, but nodded somberly and added almost apologetically: “I had no wish to offend you, so I extended the invitation only to you when I learned that some of your wives could not be allowed to cross the threshold of the palace.”

“They would dishonor our ancestors by their mere presence.” Plesius added with a smirk as he half-hid behind the guards.

Ethan could feel a dragon’s rage bubbling up in his soul, and so applied a not insignificant amount of willpower to restrain himself from attacking them. No one spoke about his wives that way; no one. He growled low in his throat, baring his teeth and showing his displeasure.

Everyone in the room — even the guards — took a collective step backwards at the fuming dragon.

Ethan fought an internal war with himself for a moment before realizing that the longer he stayed here, the more likely it was that he would be to do something he would probably live to regret ... if he lived, given that the guards were armed and he wasn’t. The king hadn’t provoke his ire near as much, but that priest...

He looked at Plesius and snarled. “Fuck you.”

Then he locked eyes with the king, pointedly planted his foot in front of him, and then after giving the king a look of disdain, pointedly turned his back on him and marched out of the throne room, no one daring to stop him.

“So he let you live?”

Selene sighed, realizing that Sarah wasn’t wrong. “I suppose he did.”

“Wow.” The girl breathed.

Selene had spent the last few minutes recounting an edited version of her previous dealings with Ethan. The girl seemed entranced by anything that happened outside of her little outpost, especially if it concerned the dragon.

“I wish something exciting would happen to me.” The girl sighed wistfully.

“You have plenty of time.” Selene said observing that the girl wasn’t very old yet; probably late teens or maybe early twenties. “How old are you?”

Her face saddened a bit as she replied. “Of the age to be married.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Um, no ... but--”

“Sarah, stop lollygagging and refill out guests’ ale.” Her father called from his chair.

The girl instantly leapt up and ran to see to the men that her father had indicated.

When Selene looked up at them, they all hastily busied themselves with their food or drink instead of looking at her. She didn’t get a creepy vibe, but they were certainly checking her out. Not for the first time in her life, she wished she wasn’t nearly as good looking as she was. She had intentionally dressed down for this mission, putting her hair in a simple ponytail and wearing no makeup whatsoever. However, it didn’t seem to make a difference. Men still stared where ever she went, often undressing her with their eyes in a most unwelcome way.

The only time she had ever welcomed it was when Ethan had done it.

But even that was...

She shook her head, putting it out of her mind and resolving to finish her food. The flagon of ale wasn’t bad, but wasn’t exactly amazing either. Fortunately the alcohol content seemed quite low and she could hold her liquor even if had been higher. The whole time she was planning her next move.

She really only had two options: First, she could ask around to see if anyone knew about the portal through which she’d come. Second, she could try to find Ethan and hope he was willing to open a portal back to earth for her.

Neither seemed like a good option.

The portal through which she’d come was far back from the road; over one hundred yards and it looked like no one had been there for a long time. Given the thick forest and abundance of pine trees, the odds of a traveler seeing it were tiny. She had no idea which direction it was in, or even how far away it was. She could probably spend months trying to find it on the ground and still be no closer to home.

It seemed even less likely that she could find Ethan, or that he would help her even if she could. He could probably open a portal — he’d done it before — but where was he? Would he even want to help her? Given their adversarial interactions on Earth, she doubted it very much.

That left her in a real conundrum: what was she going to do?

“My lord the king?”

“Enter Delabor.” The king said. He was sitting in a small room just off the throne room where he had retired after the dragon had left. It was such a short meeting, and the dragon had behaved in a scandalously uncouth manner, bringing dishonor on his ancestors and arguably to the hallowed halls of the palace itself.

And yet...

And yet he felt a smile creep onto his face.

There was something about that dragon that he liked. It was hard to place, and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Something about his manner perhaps. Something about the way he spoke, utterly honestly and without guile. It had been a long time since he’d heard words uttered in the throne room and not wondered about their truthfulness.

“Speak Delabor.” The king said, which of course was code for the herald to present his news. The king was growing tired of constantly phrasing his questions as statements, and everyone else phrasing their statements to him as questions.

“What would you have done about the dragon?”

The king closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He wanted the dragon to stay. He wanted a chance to meet with him without the court around; without anyone else around, especially Plesius. However, he wanted the dragon to want to stay. That was the problem. He wasn’t sure he had anything that the dragon wanted. However, he might have something that one of his wives wanted...

He considered.

The dragon certainly did seem to care about his wives, despite their dishonor. The King found that intriguing too, and wondered if perhaps making one of the dragon’s wives happy would be enough to get the dragon himself to stay; or at least feel indebted enough to take a meeting with him. Perhaps the best way to go about this was sideways?

He cocked his head to one side and addressed Delabor. “Bring the oldest son of Lord Nalfigar to me as soon as possible; he was present in the throne room when I left and should still be nearby. Also, prep our fastest intra-city airship.”

“Of course my king.” His faithful herald bowed, and then backed out of the room and rushed to fulfill the command.

The king hoped his plan would be enough to convince the dragon to stay.

Alana had felt the surge in Ethan’s temper, but had also felt that he was in control of it and so decided not to say anything to snap him out of it. The moment his anger had spiked, she, Beth, and Taloni had all looked at each other.

“Ethan’s temper?” Rachel asked.

They all nodded.

“I wonder what happened with master.” Taloni said looking sad.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad he isn’t losing it.” Beth said with a half-smile.

Alana looked around the room. They had made their way into the living area, which was also richly carved. Its many chairs, tables, and decorations probably cost about as much as the average commoner made in a year. It was all made of wood, which made the wood elf feel incredibly at home.

Several servants had offered them refreshments and food, which they’d gratefully accepted. She did notice that none had directly addressed Rachel or Taloni directly, nor met their yes. When Taloni thanked them, they had said “we are honored to serve.” which wasn’t exactly a personal response. She was sure the redhead had noticed, but the Fey was clearly oblivious. For that she was glad; she didn’t want to see her sad.

A few minutes later, the front door to the foyer banged opened and Ethan stalked in fuming. They could all tell that he wasn’t mad at them, but he certainly was mad. It was quite intimidating.