Changeling-(101): The Heavenly Court

Changeling-(101): The Heavenly Court

Makihel collapsed against a tree, her fingers brushing the ruddy bark with shaky excitement. Nestra had carried them to a nearby world of temperate forest and fields of distant pink grass. A light breeze cooled them despite the warm rays of a summer sun, in stark contrast to the midnight vista they’d left behind not five minutes before. Makihel took a few shambling steps to the side before sitting down, arms around her knees. She was hyperventilating. Grook shrugged, then walked to the side so it was up to Nestra to sort things out. Maybe the noblewoman was more fragile than she’d expected.
“How long were you stuck in that manor?” Nestra casually asked.
Makihel’s face glazed over until annoyance surged to the surface. This was, in Nestra’s experience, a good sign that she was recovering. She had dragged quite a few people out of their funk by annoying them. Camille, especially.
“You can create World Portals,” Makihel stated.
Nestra froze. World Portals, not portal worlds. The Heavenly Empire governed several worlds, each with its own client race. The space elf would know what it meant.
“You can create World Portals
at will
. Do you have any idea what this implies? For logistics? Conquest? Can all reavers… but no. The Book of Threats mentioned that reavers push through existing portals. But they’re males, so —”
Makihel’s eyes widened in realization.
“It would be best not to pursue that train of thought,” Nestra advised. “Some knowledge isn’t worth possessing.”
Makihel breathed hard again. She grabbed her forehead, eyes closed. She looked tired.
“By the Throne…”
She was having a moment. Nestra let her be. They were safe for now anyway.
A herd of quadrupeds crossed the grass in the far distance. Nestra wondered how they tasted.
“By the Throne. That means you can… No place is safe from you. And you are only of the third ascension… And there are several female reavers, at least. By the Throne.”
“Alright, alright, what did I just say?” Nestra interrupted.
“Excuse me while I contemplate an entire species of apex raiders who can teleport
anywhere they damn please
.”
“If it’s any comfort, your species will probably never do anything egregious enough to warrant us teleporting where we please,” Nestra offered with a smile.
Makihel paled again, which Nestra didn’t think was possible unless someone could have a negative amount of blood in their veins.
“You imply it has happened before.”
Nestra shrugged. That one had been intentional on her part. Makihel might be a little more cooperative if she were a little more afraid. But the canny courtier was over 300. She breathed hard a few times and then the emotions just washed away, the shaken captive replaced by a statuesque princess standing in a forest clearing as if it were her very own ballroom. She exuded supreme confidence in a way that would have fooled Nestra if she hadn’t seen the earlier turmoil. Only her slightly bloody nose ruined the impression.
Makihel followed Nestra’s gaze. She rubbed her nostrils.
“That was uncalled for, by the way.”
“Let’s be honest here for a moment,” Nestra replied. “You heard me threaten violence, yet you judged that I wouldn’t commit it because I love Sereth and he loves you. Your provocation was a deliberate maneuver to test my boundaries based on the correct assumption I would rather not hurt you, yet on the incorrect guess that I wouldn’t do it at all. You gambled to find more about me. It was all a game to you.”
“It was a play,” Makihel admitted. “but it is no game. You saved me from my exile with conditions. I will naturally test my new constraints… and new companion.”
“If you want us to stay allied, don’t push me.”
“I have now gathered that it might be a bad idea.”
Makihel smiled. She seemed amused.
“And don’t play games with Grook. I will hurt you,” Nestra continued.
“What do I call you?”
Nestra hesitated, but her name didn’t mean anything to the heavenlies anyway, and lying brought her nothing.
“Nezhra.”
“Very well. Nezhra. I am not a complete fool despite unfortunate evidence to the contrary. I can tell Grook is still on the path to adulthood despite what her size and martial prowess indicate. I am no savage.”
Nestra would take it.
“And now that the most shocking revelations are out of the way, I would hear the plan if you have any.”
Nestra hesitated.
“There is no plan,” Makihel summarized.
“My focus was on getting you out,” Nestra began, but the tall space elf interrupted her with a polite wave of the hand, a space elf dismissal.
“You have no need to defend yourself. That was not a criticism. Our little escape went without a hitch and barely any blood spilled and for this I congratulate you. I was merely wondering if you had any more resources I could use. Apparently, you do not. Difficult, but not insurmountable.”
She paced the clearing, eyes growing distant. An intense expression came over her august features in a way that reminded Nestra more and more of Sereth which was decidedly annoying as it might foster some protective instincts, dammit.
“Your goal is to guarantee the liberation of Serethion. In order to achieve this goal, you must prove that I call for him, I assume, in what passes as a court for reavers.”
Nestra didn’t miss the casual racism but she was a Thresholder and casual racism was as common as an overpriced latte. Nestra would pick her battles.
“That or prove I’m in danger.”
The space elf paused, mouth twitching.
“There must be a reason why you wouldn’t be the danger yourself.”
The question hung in the air between the two. Nestra had the feeling she was being played by a keen negotiator. The issue was, she had already committed to working with her so…
“Reason one, those who hold Serethion might decide to remove the danger instead.”
“That is what I would do as well just to teach you a lesson. And reason number two?”
Nestra breathed. Makihel certainly knew the answer, which made answering her even more of a frustration.
“As you said, Sereth still loves you. If I hurt you he will be sad. The vase doesn’t count. I was just making the sort of point that a third ascension like you would shrug off in a few seconds.”
“The point was indeed made,” Makihel huffed. “To summarize, you seek undeniable proof that I desire Sereth’s coming. What I desire is to regain my former glory. Now, with this out of the way, I have a proposal that would suit us both. As you know, I lost the courtly dance some time ago.”
“Is it because Sereth left?” Nestra interrupted, curious.
It was obviously still a sore spot. Makihel made no effort to hide her frustration. Her long ears stood high from the sheer outrage.
“If you will recall, Sereth left our world a very long time ago while I have only been exiled for twenty-one seasons.”
Nestra frowned.
“There are four of them for you as well?”
“How can you speak so perfectly and not know something a child… nevermind. Yes. What I am implying —”
“Is that you’ve survived a long time without him, got it.”
“More than survived,” Makihel insisted. “Thrived. I have encountered many setbacks in my long career, most of which I turned to my advantage. The latest setback was… unfortunate, to say the least. I was betrayed by one of my most valuable assets, with the consequences you know, however, there is yet a way to turn the situation on its head. In order to do so, I will require help. In return, I can grant you something that will show, without a doubt, that I desire Sereth’s assistance.”
“And what would that be?” Nestra asked, a little uncertain.
“His majority gift.”
Nestra blinked.
“It is a precious ring that I offered him on his twenty-fifth birthday celebration as a mark of my unwavering love and support. It bears both our initials and personal crests. That oaf left it behind when he ran away…”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, the violation.
Makihel frowned.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have repudiated him when he came to you in his hour of despair?” Nestra helpfully suggested.
“Yes, yes, I was young and foolish. You do not understand the reputation monochrome reavers have, for those who are even familiar with the species. But no matter.”
“Where is the gift?” Nestra asked, not sure how she should feel about a quest to steal a ring if she had to be honest.
“In my archrival’s trophy room alongside my personal blade and most of my jewelry.”
“Big oof.”
“Aptly put. Now, I don’t suppose you can use your mighty space magic to teleport us near the capital?” Makihel asked with a half smile.
“... actually I can?”
“You can?”
“Yes. But near, as you said, not in. I won’t risk it.”
“That would be best, yes. Thank you.”
***
Nestra opened a portal some distance away from the Imperial Capital, not just by choice but because she simply wasn't good enough to get a precise landing just yet. And then, she only recognized the general area because she’d visited the vicinity with Karamahel.
Her fellow Aszhii had been very clear about one thing: do not mess around in the capital. It was a nest of vipers unsuitable for young Aszhii, populated by old monsters who knew about her kind. Fortunately, Nestra had her own pet snake this time. Leaving a clearing of golden and red leaves, the three of them followed tracks towards the battered stone of an imperial highway. They ran as fast as Grook could manage.
In Zurich, Aunt Claire had been a special guest monitored from afar because of the threat she represented. In Threshold, B-class were strong enough to warrant attention yet common enough not to stop traffic. Here, she was just one among many. With Makihel’s ratty clothes and her own makeshift gear, Nestra wasn’t even a successful one. On three separate occasions they had to stand aside to let a carriage pass by, its A-class passenger hidden from view but not from perception behind the elegant liveries of their enchanted doors. The carriages had been pulled by magical elks that were B-class themselves. The sun was rising on a sunny, windy autumn day when Nestra crossed a bend in the forest to see the capital in all its glory.
It was such a sight that she stopped alongside Grook. Other heavenlies sat in stone-carved bleachers downhill while enterprising sellers moved from group to group, offering mulled wine and buttery pastries. Makihel guided them to the side with a hint of amusement on her aristocratic features.
“We can take a few moments,” she smiled.
The capital must have started as a hamlet by the lake, its back protected by a gentle slope leading up to a mountain range. The river must have existed back then as would the island in the middle of that large lake, but that would have been millenia ago. Now overgrown docks sprawled towards a ringed city split into nine sections so large it must host millions. Remnants of segregated architecture still hinted at each section’s original purpose, but the styles had long since blended together. Only one district still maintained perfect harmony: the one nearest to the mountain range and by far the most protected. Beyond its monumental walls waited a complex of exquisitely decorated white stone spires large enough to house tens of thousands of people, and that was just the visible part.
“The Imperial Palace,” Makihel said with a whisper. “The dream of every aspiring prince and princess, though I am still far from joining.”
“Oh yes,” Nestra replied. “It’s Princess Makihel and Prince Serethion, right?”
“Yes, in line for the throne even. I believe my position might be at twelve-hundredth or so? Unless I was demoted following my fall from grace.”
Makihel chuckled.
“Only the best of the best, those with the connection, cunning, resources, skill, and might to challenge the crown princess may one day hope to sit on the throne. Even Serethion would not have been selected for he lacked the drive and political acumen. Although, I believed, at some point…”
Makihel smiled bitterly.
“The capital was the project of the previous Emperor Korellian. I assume this is your first time here?”
Nestra nodded, her elf ears twitching treacherously. She took one second to close Grook’s hanging jaw before the poor girl swallowed a bug. Some of the other visitors caught her expression and smiled.
“It was originally separated into the nine sacred directions of our compass, with the palace at the zenith, of course. Warehouses and barracks were to occupy the two nadirs though that was a long time ago. Those strict distinctions were eroded by time and necessity, to accommodate for the growth of the population and people’s general preference not to have to travel for half a day in order to buy nails.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Nestra commented.
“The palace’s two nearby sections managed to retain their opulence through careful curation. Only the most noble of houses and imperial offshoots may enter.”
“Incentivized guards and outrageous real estate prices,” Nestra commented.
“I see you’re familiar with the way the world works. I will also mention barriers that require possession of pricey tokens to the list of measures, a luxury permitted by the presence of many powerful mages.”
“If there is immovable property, what’s movable property?” Grook asked, using the heavenly translation to real estate.
“Land and buildings are immovable property. Furniture and stuff like weapons are movable,” Nestra explained.
“But…”
Grook hesitated.
“But our homes move?”
“Well here they use stones and fixed spots so it can’t be moved easily,” Nestra explained.
Makihel pretended not to have heard. The original plan clearly hadn’t accounted for the stellar growth in population the city had undergone. Poorer districts had developed alongside the roads leading into the capital with distant fields barely visible from their vantage point. The island in the lake had been turned into some sort of resort if the curated shore was any indication, while countless white sails bobbed in the winds like the feathers of so many small birds. Above the capital, distant manors spoke of privilege and seclusion.
“The emperor’s father lives there,” Makihel whispered with reverence. “There are many portals in the mountains for those who can negotiate access. We are not far from the original World Portal so raiding worlds are plenty, yet raiders are still more numerous. Few people come to the capital to cultivate their strength. They come here for political influence or training. Some of the many worlds’ best centers of learning can be found there if you have the means to open their gates. It is said that some of the training was even bestowed by star people…”
Makihel shook her head.
“But enough of this. We could spend an entire day here drinking wine and composing odes to that painted harlot of a city, accomplishing nothing. Time is of the essence. It will not take long for dear old Naila to learn of my escape. We should move quickly before she realizes that I am coming for her.”
“I assume Naila is your arch-nemesis?” Nestra asked.
“And previous best friend, yes.”
“You had friends?” Nestra deadpanned.
Makihel sighed like a patient overtaxed grandma which she might as well be given the age difference. She was right though, they had to get going. The path moved down the hill then alongside the far edge of the lake towards one of the city’s nine gates. Nestra had to admit, she hadn’t expected it to be so big. Ancient Earth cities were comparatively small because of food constraints. The Imperial city must be larger than Threshold and there wasn’t a single drone in sight. They’d done all of this with only mana.
It occurred to her she was the first ‘human’ to visit the place. Food, friends and fights gave her joy but there was certainly something to say about the spectacle in front of her. All those cultures that had picked a path to civilization had chosen differently. They had faced the portals their own way, suffered, triumphed or fallen, or merely survived. There were surely hidden ruins and forgotten, poignant artwork scattered across all realities, heroes and villains, champions and scourges. And she had the free key to reach them all, in time. It was… inspiring and humbling. She just had to stop herself from getting speared in the chest like a dumbass again.
“Ah, this reminds me,” Makihel complained.
She pushed her brown locks behind one of those long ears. Those things took some getting used to. Last night, Nestra had accidentally caught an ear on a door frame and that had been really embarrassing.
“I must teach you your roles. First, as my guards, you should walk half a step behind me, and only speak when spoken to. I do not mean any harm by this, I am merely stating what will be expected of us. On second thought, perhaps it would be best if you didn’t talk at all.”
Makihel gave Nestra and Grook a crash course on being a space elf face breaker for hire over the next hour. Although Nestra listened with all her attention, she couldn’t help but think that someone from Earth looking at her right now would wonder how the fuck learning about that could possibly help with race relations. And she would be really miffed answering that obviously she was on the case. Etiquette was required to coax Makihel into getting her the ring she needed to get Sereth out of captivity so she could safely return to helping Tigress convince the covens to establish official diplomatic ties with Threshold and, possibly, the United Nations so humans couldn’t be turned into free range core feeders. Wasn’t it obvious? Was saving Sereth that important? It mattered, because the covens would scrutinize her behavior for signs of disloyalty. The more she proved she could be relied on, the more they would be inclined to trust her, and humans by extension.
Now guilt free, Nestra returned her attention to the road and her pleasure of discovery. More and more people joined them, many on foot but most on or by large carriages drawn by animals, strong people, or in the case of the wealthy, mana engines. The mix of artisanal and magical high tech was fascinating although she wished she could use her true form which had superior mana perception. Nestra almost did a double take when they were passed by a group of shorter, stout humanoids with goat legs and thick horns. She recognized the species Mithran must have come from and gritted her teeth thinking about Sereth again. It looked like her ‘father’ didn’t mind sleeping with the space elf’s client races as well. Besides the goat-like beings, she also came across a trade caravan of what appeared to be bipedal amphibians of such short size, she thought they were children at first. The heavenlies didn’t seem to treat their client races with any sort of contempt that she could see, but she had spent long enough in Threshold to know prejudice could run bone-deep. Shaking her head, she turned to Makihel in front of her.
“Will it create issues if I stare around?”
“No, it reinforces your persona as a complete bumpkin coming to the big city for the first time,” the tall woman replied without looking back.
It didn’t even sound like she meant it as an insult.
“One more talented yet penniless raider to feed the princelings’ constant squabbles. Possibly get a royal-blooded child as well.”
“Not happening,” Nestra replied.
“Not you,” Makihel said, waving her hand and still looking forward. “You just present as one of those talented rookies. The more you fit into archetypes people are familiar with, the fewer questions they ask themselves and the easier it is to blend in. Do not hesitate to act shy in front of other nobles. You too, Grook.”
Grook mumbled something.
“That’s the spirit.”
It didn’t take long for them to race to the gate. The monumental, heavily enchanted piece of gear waited wide open to the point Nestra wondered if it ever closed. A steady stream of people moved in and out following well-defined lanes under the watchful gaze of powerful guards in blue armor. Nestra felt the presence of an A-class in a nearby gatehouse, their core pulsing steadily to remind people to behave. The slowest lane was dedicated to caravans laden with food and goods, mostly raw material. The guards stopped and checked some of them. The left lane was reserved for important people which Nestra was definitely not as she wasn’t wearing the yearly GDP of a small enclave in enchanted jewelry. That left them the middle lane. One of the guards did stop them but Makihel drowned him under a deluge of tall claims about asking what was rightfully hers to her aunt, that vixen who had stolen Makihel’s rightful inheritance. The guard wisely kept quiet before asking her about her ‘bodyguards’ which prompted another round of tall claims about paying them ‘as soon as that sorry matter was resolved’. The guard gave Nestra and Grook a look of pure pity before waving them in. Nestra could only assume the enlightened empire had yet failed to ban Karens. As for getting paid, the guards must have thought some things could only be learned the hard way.
The main road led to a massive square surrounded by anything travelers might need from inns to banks and specialized stores. Old trees provided shade, unneeded in this crisp autumn morning. Some of the traveling dresses on display were just really nice, and enchanted against a bunch of things. Nestra vowed to return later for a bit of a shopping spree. The question of money was raised when Makihel casually entered a large hall before freezing in her tracks.
“I do not have ticket money,” she finally realized.
Fortunately, Nestra and Grook had ‘liberated’ quite a bit of it during the pillow hunt, something that would help their cause. They bought the tickets from a bored booth attendant, then navigated their ways through a throng of citizens towards what Nestra recognized were rails. It was weird how similar this station felt to Earth’s own systems. It was mid-morning by now, so the rush had died down. Workers, mothers with their children and the elderly walked up and down stairs, not bothering to give Nestra a wide berth. It was strange seeing old space elves but Nestra assumed most of the ‘many worlds’ denizens actually never reached B-rank. Their clothes were nice too. They all felt carefully handmade rather than the mass-produced slop Nestra could get drone-shipped for twenty creds per item back home. She liked it.
Grook didn’t look like she was having that much fun. Nestra discreetly held the large woman’s hand which helped a bit.
“Do you need a moment?” she asked.
“No! No, I must get used to this.”
Nestra would need to keep an eye out. In any case, they soon got into a mix between an elevated subway and a Renaissance carriage. The seats were simple but clean, and when the thing took off, Nestra realized it was also mana-powered. An elevated way gave them a commanding view of the district, displaying massive warehouses, their red-tiled roofs extending for kilometers.
“How do they carry everything around?” Nestra asked herself.
“Underground waterways, dear,” an old woman said, a bright smile on her face. “Many ships travel day and night. Some say there are secret and forgotten paths filled with smugglers and portal beasts… and teenagers looking for a nook. Hah!”
“There are access points then?”
“Everywhere! Most of the entrances are indoors, but I do recommend the Imperial canal if this is your first time here. One must see the Undermarket before they leave.”
Nestra nodded with enthusiasm, then asked the chatty lady a few more questions. It turned out that she had been working in logistics and knew quite a few stories. Nestra still kept a lookout but this place was peaceful, or at least the violence was contained elsewhere, Grook was looking out and Makihel grumbled to herself moving fingers around, eyes glazed. Probably scheming. They came across other tracks and stations on their way north east. Slowly, the city changed to residential areas, bustling markets and administrative centers then to a magical district overlooked by a massive tree, its branches laden with bridges and hanging buildings. Trails of mana crystals led to the inside of the trunk. Makihel signaled for them to exit near a seedier spot at the eastern end of the city, the spires of the noble quarter visible in the distance. By then, it was almost noon.
“I have a plan,” the woman claimed.
“Can the plan be told over a plate of that huge stuffed tuber that restaurant is serving over there?” Nestra asked.
“Are you fronting the bill?”
“Yes, in fact.”
“It would be rude of me to refuse such a kind invitation.”
One thing about capital cities was that the food tended to be good. They sat down in a secluded alcove among other secluded alcoves occupied by shifty people eating their plates of stuffed tubers. Some black-haired elf gave Nestra’s purse a look, so Nestra also showed him her knife and he lost interest. Having ordered and finally being settled, Makihel gave both her bodyguards a calculating glance.
“Here is what I intend to do next. Although my credit is spent at the moment, I still retain allies in the, shall we say, less savory stratum of the population.”
“Criminals,” Nestra summarized.
“They would prefer to see themselves as free-thinking individuals and I will ask you to refer to them as such while we’re trying to get their help. One such individual is an extremely talented forger who goes by Fennek. We will seek this individual, as his help is absolutely required for the success of my current plan. After that, we will be collecting a few more people. Speaking of, Nezhra, would you accept to act as a guard?”
Nestra paused. Wasn’t this what she was doing right now?
“Oh, you mean law enforcement, right?”
“Law en —”
Makihel’s eyes widened.
“Why yes, that is the technical term. The police. The gendarmes. You sound quite familiar with the concept. Do your kind even need…”
Before the noblewoman could lose herself in conjectures, Nestra changed her behavior. From bored but alert, she straightened her stance and took a single step around the table so she could be right into Makihel’s face. Maybe it was the sudden change, or just the result of long captivity but Makihel flinched while their neighbors’ eyes widened. So Nestra leaned forward just a little more.
“I ask the questions here,
exile
.”
Makihel opened and closed her mouth like a floundering fish so Nestra gave her best cop glare. She could almost see the duplicitous gears of courtly backstabbery grinding behind Makihel’s haughty brow.
“Why yes, yes… I can work with that.”
And then her mouth spread in a sinister grin.
“I can absolutely work with that.”
Now Nestra just needed a truncheon. Medieval guards always needed a truncheon.

.
!
(101): The Heavenly Court