The Great War: Chapter 51
A great speech for a great king
Mathew is roused early by a sharp knock on his new bedroom door. Still groggy and aching, he sits up in his oh-so-comfortable bed - which, dare he say, is even warmer than his old bed on Gardall - and does a quick stretch.
Having received no answer to its call, the knock sounds again, this time much louder and much harsher.
“Aye, I’m up!” Mathew calls, jumping in his skin. Skin that’s no longer bright blue, though the chill still lingers in its absence. He can’t help but stare at his hand momentarily, wondering to himself how and why it went away so quickly. A mystery to be solved some other time.
He slides out of bed as he hears the muffled voice of Devin on the other side, saying, “Be ready soon. The speech will begin shortly.”
Mathew rolls his eyes. He slept in his clothes. He runs his hand through his hair a couple times to tame it. He hasn’t bathed in quite some time, nor does he have the time to do so now. The only thing he’s not wearing that he might need any sort of time to collect is his empty scabbard, it having been tossed on the ground the night prior. Why wear it if it has no purpose?
He makes the trek from the bed to the bedroom door, kicking his scabbard carelessly aside. The furniture is lavish, but aside from that the room is pretty bare compared to its size. He feels small in here. Out of place. It’s hard to think that not too long ago he had been crammed into a space many times larger than this, still sleeping shoulder to shoulder with his fellow sailor. Harder yet to believe he once grew up in a cabin that was honestly far too small for the size of his family, him and Ingum having needed to share a room that could barely even fit both their beds and a set of shelves.
Though there are two positives about the room. One is the bed. The other is the view. He left his balcony doors open just for the ocean breeze to drift its way inside. Now his room stinks of the salt water down below. And fish. But mostly the water.
He opens the door. At the same time, the door across from him swings open, too, revealing a very tired-looking Ezra. The Creationist is still rubbing his eyes, trying to get them to open. Mathew, on the other hand, feels wide awake and alert. And between them, Devin stands with his arms folded and a cold frown.
“Come,” he orders, briskly walking down the hallway. Ezra lets out a yawn and trudges after him, Mathew bringing up the rear.
“Why is it so early?” Ezra asks.
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re a farming island,” Devin answers. “Most citizens are awake by now, if not earlier.”
The Creationist shakes his head and lightly slaps his cheeks, attempting to wake himself up. Clearly, he’s never had to deal with waking this early to do anything.
Despite paying close attention to the twists and turns they take, Mathew still somehow looses all sense of where they are after a while. Stairs and halls appear and disappear at random, doorways scattered about with little rhyme or reason. He never thought that a royal castle could make less sense than the inside of a ship. It all feels like patchwork stitched together without regard for how it all should ultimately fit with one another.
Finally, Devin leads the two of them through what feels to be a random doorway, yet on the other side they are greeted by a lavish study. A large pane of glass fills the entire back wall behind a sturdy wooden desk covered with books and papers, with a small doorway leading outside hidden behind the desk’s chair. The left and right walls are brimming with all sorts of tomes arranged neatly on their shelves by size, color, and title. Such an impressive feat of organization must have taken at least a year of hard labor to complete. Sitting at the desk is Samuel scanning a piece of paper with precise focus. He doesn’t appear to be nervous at all over giving a speech to an entire island of beings; Mathew knows he certainly would if he were in the royal’s position. And yet his eyes barely even flicker up from the page as he, Devin, and Ezra enter the room.
“Are you ready?” Devin asks.
Upon hearing his voice, Samuel stands, the paper falling from his hand. “I believe so.” He turns his attention to the two other beings in the room. “Mathew, Ezra, you two can stand at the far ends. And try not to speak; the whole island will hear you.”
Mathew frowns in confusion yet nods along. Ezra, however, is slowly nodding off next to him.
He gives the boy a sharp jab in the arm with his elbow. “Now’s not the time to be sleepin’.”
“Ah, yes!” Ezra exclaims, perking up in an instant. “Right. Sorry.”
With a flourish of his cape, Samuel steps from the chair and makes his way to the balcony doors, the other three wizards in quiet tow. The chill of the early cycle air batters Mathew’s face as he steps out onto the balcony’s stony ledge. A low stone banister rings the edge, the only thing keeping any being from simply walking to their doom. Powerful magic presses against his skin, vibrating against his bristled hairs with its hum. As Samuel said for him to do, Mathew steps off to his right, standing at the far end of the balcony like some sort of guard. Out of the corner of his left eye, he can see Ezra do all he can not to shiver and fidget, uncomfortable with the chill that batters his body.
Samuel steps up to the very front of the balcony, Devin lingering just off to his right. The two of them appear to take a moment to survey the island laid out perfectly before them, with rolling hills full of green and golden squares, each one lined with trees brimming with fruits of all sorts of colors. Mathew can see specks of beings moving about, wandering the dirt roads that connect each of the towns or toiling away in the fields of the island, preparing for harvest. From all the way up here, the island of Korodon feel extremely small and isolated, not a speck of land or single boat to be seen on the horizon over the blue ocean waves.
This is the place he is to help defend? An island full of wizard farmers, whom most likely have never had to fight a true battle in their long lives until now. Whom work with the land more than the sea, harvesting, baking, and bartering over fishing and exploration. Mathew can only speculate about all the hardships he’ll soon be facing…
“Citizens of Korodon,” Samuel speaks, raising his arms high in the air. His voice booms like thunder, shaking Mathew to the core of his very being with each word. He can’t help but briefly glance at his surroundings to try and find what may be amplifying the royal’s voice. All the while, Samuel continues, “Beings blessed by the Spirit of Shadow, whom our beloved island is named after. I, Samuel, stand before you all this cycle as not only the new king of Korodon, but also as the General of Storm magic.
“I am not deaf to the whispers, and it’s with a heavy heart I must say that my father, King Cero, was felled in battle against the Guardians not long ago. He was a great king who cared for all the beings in his care, who pushed past his own hardships to give his citizens the attention they needed and deserved.
“As his only son, I will dutifully follow in his footsteps and ascend the throne of Korodon to secure for us all a better and brighter future. That first starts with combating the Guardians.
“I have seen first-hand the destructive power they wield against our settlements. I am fully aware of their might compared to ours. They sink islands and execute those sympathetic to our cause. But they still underestimate us. They believe that these grand displays are enough to scare us into submission. They send declarations of peace after pillaging homes and stranding families. They call away our nation’s king to have him quietly murdered.
“They dare not come and fight us. They dare not even show their faces here on Korodon, relying on our beings to deliver their messages for them. The Guardians are cowards through and through. This is self evident. We wizards have fought since the cycle we were first given the blessing of magic for our place in Astria. We toil for food and resources. We trade for whatever we can. And yet we have been able to come this far on nothing but hard labor and dreams, dreams of one cycle never needing to worry about survival or perceptions.
“I am searching for a group of advisors, told to me by the Great Spirit Himself, to help guide us through this turbulent time of conflict. Generals, leaders of magic and battle, to help bring together our many branches of magic. Already, this group consists of myself and three others; three still remain to be found. But when all is said and done, we will transform this nation into a force to be reckoned with, and we will bring the Guardians down to their knees and make them recognize our importance and power.
“Korodon will never stop being a beacon of magic and sanctuary for as long as wizards remain in Astria. I and my Generals will fight until the bitter end to see to it that our beloved island will remain this way for generations to come. I dare the Guardians to come and try to take this place from us.”
The royal lowers his arms, and for a moment he stands at the head of the balcony completely still. Devin doesn’t move, either. Feeling uneasy, Mathew looks over to Ezra to see the poor Creationist staring back at him. His eyes are tired and the hairs on his arms and legs are doing all they can to keep him warm. He’s probably wondering the same thing Mathew is: is the speech over?
And then, in the distance, a roar rises before them. It echoes over the land, a faint noise that grows as time passes. And as this roar travels, more voices rise to join it. From the left and the right now, the citizens of Korodon respond to their new ruler. Their combined shout is one of passion, determination, rage, and sorrow. They grieve for what has already been lost, yet eager all the same to fight back against those that brought them such tragedy in the first place.
The Guardians.
Samuel turns back to the castle, revealing a relieved smile stretched across his face. As he passes Mathew and Ezra, he motions for them to come inside as well.
“Korodon has spoken,” the king says.
Ezra lets out a heavy breath he remembered he was probably holding through the entire speech. “Wow…” Mathew nods in agreement, lost for words. He’s never heard an island’s citizens so unified before. It’s probably something he’ll never get to experience again.
“Moved?” Samuel asks. He stares at the two with a dull gaze, removed from the room and reality as a whole. He’s happy he got the response he most likely wanted, not comprehending what the others are feeling.
“Wow,” Ezra can only breathe back.
“Don’t linger on it too long,” Devin pipes up, swiftly moving the moment along. “There’s work to do. I have a theory on who the next General might be.”
“Already?” Samuel hums.
“I was waiting until you gave you speech,” Devin nods. “I didn’t want to distract you. How aware are you of Korodon’s criminal underworld?”
The king frowns and folds his arms. “The basics. Why?”
“It is said that Korodon has two royal families that run the island. One would be you, the King of Eros, and the other is the Queen of the Underworld, Cassie the Demon Dealer. She’s the supposed head of most of the crime committed here in Korodon.”
“And she hasn’t been arrested because…?”
“There’s no hard evidence against her. Only theories, rumors, and speculation. Which is why I said ‘supposed head’.”
Samuel shifts from one foot to the other, clearly agitated by Devin’s proposed theory. The king taking advice from a crime lord - or lady, in this case - isn’t the best look to have.
Mathew can’t help but feel offended. The king is more worried about working with an organized crime leader than he is trusting a being who came directly from a Guardian ship. The only thing protecting Mathew is his magic. Even so, Lorn decided to work for the Guardians anyway.
“An’ yet yer comfortable with me bein’ around?” Mathew speaks up in anger. “Get yer priorities straight. Asandra can recruit all the wizards She wants to an’ the mob is yer line? You could be in the presence of a Guardian sympathizer right now.”
The other Generals stare at Mathew with wildly different expressions. A bewildered Ezra decides to shuffle a few steps away from the sailor as Devin puts a protective foot forward, his expression grim.
“I know what I said,” Mathew adds with a huff. “Be careful who you trust. You never know who might bear the mark, an’ that’s including wizards.”
“Indeed,” Devin cautiously agrees.
“I don’t believe Korodon would have spoken with him if he were with the Guardians,” Samuel says, placing a reassuring hand on his guard’s shoulder. “But, yes, that’s something we all must keep in mind.” He pauses a moment, saddened by such a realization that any being that is every being could be working against them. But then he shakes his head and turns back to the topic of conversation at hand. “Do you know where Cassie is?”
“There are places I know she frequents,” Devin answers.
“Good. Go get her, then.”
Devin’s eyes widen, real shock catching him off guard. “Sam?”
“Mathew and Ezra are hardly fit to hunt down a citizen of Korodon, let alone handle a criminal such as her. And me being seen with her now wouldn’t be the best look. Though I think you already know that.”
Devin lets out a heavy sigh. “As you wish.”
“And you two,” Samuel addresses Mathew and Ezra, “let’s do some training in the meantime.”
“Yes, your Majesty!” Ezra agrees instantly.
“Aye,” Mathew half-nods. Training, probably combat training, with a royal - a king. His father would probably be proud of him, wizards or not. Maybe he should write him a letter…
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