BTIV - Chapter 8

“As I said earlier,” Micah replied, “I have the ability to see the future somewhat.”

They were in a conference room at one of the royal family’s summer palaces.  It wasn’t as big as the governor’s manor, but at the same time, representatives of the royal family rarely visited Red Sands for more than a month at a time.  The building was large and well appointed enough to make a point about the Empress’ wealth and power, but it didn’t see enough use to warrant a stupendous investment of energy and capital.

Most of the room was filled with a dinner table large enough to seat fifty people.  Micah sat halfway down the table while Gwendolyn occupied its head.  Further down the table, her guards, Luci and Kyle, were watching Drekt, Trevor, Leeka, Eris, and Esther uncertainly.  Eris was staring at the large oil paintings that covered the wall with wide eyes while Trevor and Esther chattered happily, picking up candlesticks and pieces of silverware while openly guessing how much they thought the expertly crafted items cost.  The entire time, Leeka sat perfectly still, both of her hands in her lap with white knuckles as her eyes darted nervously about the chamber.

As for Drekt?  He had long since given up trying to control Trevor and Esther.  Instead, he sat half slumped in one of the chairs, forehead in his right hand as he massaged his temples.

“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” The princess asked.  “Are you talking about fragmented and cryptic prophecies, flashes of images from the future, or the gods themselves descending on a ray of sunshine to tell you what is coming to pass?”

Micah lapsed into thought, pondering how he would answer her question.  They hadn’t exactly been close friends in his previous life.  He had met and interacted with Gwen on a number of occasions after earning her trust, and in all likelihood their relationship had risen to the level of a friendship, but at the end of each day she had been a member of the royal family while he had been an immigrant.  They were cordial and enjoyed each other’s company, but a secret like the nature of his blessing wasn’t the sort of thing he would share with someone on that level, especially someone with the ears of those who controlled a whole country.

He chewed his lower lip.  As much as Micah’s instinct was to make up a lie in order to protect his secrets, he also needed the princess to trust him.  Every fabrication he made was yet another chance where he could lose all credibility with the woman he would need for the apocalyptic battle that was to come.

“I can travel back in time.”  He practically blurted the words out, saying them as quickly as possible before he could second guess himself and come up with an excuse to twist or obscure the truth.  “That’s how I know what’s going to happen.”

“Yes,” Gwen replied impatiently.  “You already said that after the attack.  I need to know more.  Are we talking like a couple of minutes, a day, a month, a year, or ten years?  Hells, for all I know you’re actually from a hundred years in the future trying to change history entirely.”

“Oh right,” he said, scratching his chin.  “The actual time travel varies depending on how I use it, but the important factor is that a new power is going to arise in Pereston in the next year or two and invade Sandrovok.  Even with the help of surrounding countries, when the time comes, Sandrovok won’t be able to defend itself.”

She frowned, tapping her index finger on the tabletop in a steady, insistent beat.  Finally, she let out a sigh.

“Do you have any actionable intelligence I can take to my mother?”  She asked.  “You know, troop movements and numbers, locations, strategic assets, anything of that nature.  Something I can bring to her to prove that she should trust you.”

Micah shrugged, shooting her a sheepish smile as he answered.

“I can tell you what happened last time, but things have already changed.  All of my predictions regarding Pereston are up in the air.  I can tell you the major actors and roughly what they’re able to do, but unfortunately one of those powers lets it adapt to my time travel.”

“So you don’t have anything I can use,” Gwen replied in frustration.  “I’m grateful that you saved my life, but for all I know, it was you that set up the attempt.  If you want me to try and convince my mother to move armies and prepare for unseen threats, I am going to need to prove two things.  First, that you actually know what you’re talking about.  Second, that you have Sandrovok’s best interests at heart.  At this point, I want to believe you, but I can’t act without solid information on both fronts.”

“I can certainly help with the country’s development,” Micah responded.  “If you have any difficult dungeons, I’d be happy to clear them.  As strong as I am, I need as many levels as I can get before the attack happens.  More importantly, the last time Pereston had double agents in Sandrovok that undermined the royal family and weakened the army in anticipation of an assault.  I know their names, and I would suspect that most of the bigger players are active by now, spreading their feelers out amongst the military and civil service as they wait for their chance to strike.”

“And what do you want us to do?” The princess asked.  “Imprison them without warning?  Search their manors and seize their weapons?  Without proper evidence, we would risk a civil war.  The nobles would interpret our actions as a pretext for the royal family expanding its power, and the entire nation would fall apart.  If Pereston were to truly attack, there wouldn’t be anyone left to defend after a civil war ripped us apart.”

He glanced back at the other end of the table.  Trevor was holding up a porcelain vase, closely inspecting the delicate painting on its side while both of the bodyguards stiffened, watching the rambunctious young man closely.

Micah chewed on his lower lip again, looking for a way to answer the princess’ questions.  She had a point.  He had saved her life and used a pass-phrase that she wasn’t supposed to know.  Ritual magicians had confirmed that the teleportation formation was sabotaged shortly after they arrived at the palace, but that didn’t change much.

He had been too naive.  Rush in, save the princess, ask for her to attack a neighboring country.  It all sounded like something that a protagonist in a bard’s tale would try.  In the real world, political considerations and machinations took months if not years to work out.  In truth, Micah was lucky that he had only been met with skepticism rather than an ill advised attempt to put him in a jail cell.

“Good point,” Micah replied, biting back a sigh.  “I’m not really a strategic thinker.  Hells, half of the day to day operation of my guild is my father and the other half is Drekt.  My job was always to grow strong enough and produce enough enchanted items that we can destroy anything we run into, and so far that’s worked out just fine.  Better yet, it will continue to work just fine for about two years.  The only problem with that strategy is that in years, Baron Hurdon will have taken over Pereston and they will attack with everything they have, and that doesn’t just mean people.  Strange magic and scores of daemons like the ones you saw today will be in the vanguard.”

“We lose Princess,” he continued grimly.  “And it isn’t the sort of loss where Sandrovok cedes some territory and pays a little tribute.  Everyone dies, and most of their souls are used to power the Baron’s war machines and fuel his conquest.  By the time of the final battle, there weren’t any humans left supporting him.  Just enchantments supercharged with sacrifices and daemons.”

“But how can I know.”  Her voice was a whisper, but its volume didn’t do anything to hide its intensity.  “My mother deals with at least a courtier a week trying to drum up one threat or another so that they can benefit.  The court and imperial bureaucracy are cloaked in plots and counter schemes.  I need something solid.”

Micah leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair.  Finally, he shrugged.

“First, I stopped a dungeon outbreak on the exact day it was going to happen,” Micah said slowly, holding up one finger.  “Second, I stopped an attack on your life and used a pass-phrase that I shouldn’t have known.  I understand that the two events could theoretically be explained through some combination of blessings and spy networks, but at the same time I am perfectly willing to give you answers that you can test.  Even if you refuse to settle for a list of names, without some foreknowledge, how could I predict which horse will win a race?  Maybe you’d prefer some sort of market trend?  It should be clear from the way my guild rocketed to financial prominence that I have some ability on that front as well.”

“And if all of that isn’t enough,” he continued, opening his hands, as if laying all of his arguments on the table, “I’d ask you to have faith.  Specifically, contact your priests.  The Churches of Luxos, Mursa and Ankros will likely be able to verify that I am working on their gods behalves.”

“I don’t really trust the gods,” Gwen replied, sinking back into her own seat, eyes distant and thoughtful.  “They always seem to have their own goals that don’t necessarily align with Sarovok or humanity as a whole.”

“Absolutely,” Micah agreed, drawing a surprised look from the princess.  “Half of them are assholes to begin with.  We’re really only in this mess because Luxos made a huge mistake and left a path open to a place that no one from Karell should touch.  As for Ankros and Mursa?  I won’t betray their trust, but their goals don’t align with any one nation.  I think it's safe to say that they support humanity as a whole, but their scope is so different from yours and mine that it's fundamentally alien.  Trusting any one or two of them isn’t a good idea, but if all three of them agree?  You’re probably onto something.”

“Except you shouldn’t talk to…” Micah trailed off, summoning the ageless folio and paging through it, “Bishop Lee.  The Church of Luxos in Red Sands is largely under the control of the enemy.  Frankly, that’s probably how they were able to get close enough to the parade to make an attempt on your life.”

“Baron Hurdon…” She mused, staring past Micah.  “We’ve heard some troubling things about the Baron.  His recent rise to prominence is strange enough on its own.  A country noble like him shouldn’t have been able to make much of a stir in the capital, but…”

Gwen thought for a moment, fingers drumming on the table.  On the other end of the room, Trevor and Esther were out of their seats pointing out details in the oil paintings lining the hall.

“Fine,” she replied.  “Get me your list of traitors and I will consult with the churches.  If they tell us to trust you, I will speak with my mother.  That still doesn’t mean that you will have the Empire’s unquestioning support.  Even if you can see the future, you will need to prove that you are using that gift for our benefit, but at the very minimum we can start building that bond of trust.”

Micah stood up, extending a hand to the woman.  A second later she joined him, clasping her hand in his.

“That’s all I can ask really,” he said, face shifting into a relieved smile.  “I honestly don’t really care much about the fights between political powers and nations.  Pereston and Baron Hurdon represent a threat to all life.  If I could have lived out a quiet life as a mid-level guildmaster in a border province, I would have preferred that.  Unfortunately, circumstance has a tendency to shred any plans that I try to make.”

Gwen nodded back, her smile polite and eyes troubled.  Micah didn’t bother to push the issue any further.  The royalty had their own troubles, and trying to forcefully sidestep their concerns would only raise more red flags and slow his progress.  Plus, he wasn’t lying about the traitors.  The princess was right.  If they moved too fast, those men and women would circle like vultures, tearing apart their defenses before Sandrovok even had a chance to fight back.

He walked toward the conference room’s door.  It opened a couple steps before his arrival, a smiling man in a suit waiting with his hand on the knob to lead Micah’s party out of the manor.  Unsurprisingly, Trevor and Esther took up the rear, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at gilded pillars and marble statues on their way out.

As soon as they stepped onto the street, Leeka let out a deep sigh of relief.  The streets leading to and from the manor were empty, likely periodically cleared by the city guards after the attack on the princess.

“That was intense,” the tall orange woman said shakily.  “I think I’d rather face a dozen monsters than deal with that sort of environment again.  I don’t know if I could beat that lady in a fight or not, but she gave off an aura stronger than the Obsidian Striker.”

“Dealing with nobility is never pleasant,” Drekt cut in.  “Although the last time we ran into a problem of this magnitude, Micah simply killed everyone involved and fled the country.”

“Not an option this time,” Micah replied.  “I doubt I can beat the Third Prince in a one on one fight, and the fight won’t be one on one.  Even with all of Sandrovok’s help, Pereston’s army will be entirely too much.  The guild needs to be stronger.  There will be at least a dozen of those daemons I fought today.  Unless we have the people to hold the daemons off, this war is as good as done, even with Sandrovok’s help.”

“Do you think that I have the ability to fight one of those daemons?” Leeka asked.  “I practically froze when I saw them.  The lesser ones seemed like jungle predators except twisted and wrong.  I could fight and damage them without a serious problem, but the big-people-”

“Luocas,” Micah supplied.  “And yes.  Every member of the guild’s inner circle has the potential to bring one down.  It’s just that none of you are quite there yet.  Trevor and Drekt together can fight one to a standstill, but that’s far from killing one outright.  Let Drekt, my father and I handle the political side of things.  In the coming months, you’ll be training like your life depends upon it because it does.  As long as you do what we tell you too, you will be strong enough.  It won’t be a pleasant or painless road to get there, but rest assured, I will make sure you reach your goal, even if I have to drag your unconscious body past the finish line.”

“Good,” Leeka said, fire in her eyes as she clenched an orange fist.  “I felt so powerless in that last fight, just like I did in those caves.  I’m not part of your family the way Eris, Drekt and Esther are, but at the same time, I don’t want to let you down.”

“If I have to suffer some pain,” she continued, “so be it.  If I have to sacrifice some sleep, that’s fine.  Do what you need to make me strong enough to help you.  I’m tired of being a burden.  I care about you and your friends Micah Silver.  I want to be a true companion.  An asset to your cause.”