“There are far too many people here watching me get naked. I refuse.”
“Are you sure it’s not that you think that Zhaphra and I are hot and you’re just embarrassed?” Larida chuckles and I turn a deep purple in an instant.
“LARIDA!” I shout in protest.
“Zaphra is your cousin dear, there will be none of that. Larida would be a fine match, however. A very respectable Leopard.”
“I have so many respectable bolts with her name on them.” I glare at the woman laughing at my expense.
“High Shaman, just let her change in your room, then we can pick apart her choices when she comes out,” says the indigo-adjacent troll with a mean-girl smile.
“I suppose that will do, thank you, cousin,” I spit the last word out with as much venom as I can muster before I march my grumpy blue butt into the bedroom, foisting my trunk along with me.
I sigh. I hate being on the spot, but the feeling of a room full of sisters is nice? Frustrating, maddening, and nice? Whatever that feeling is.
I dress up in the ice blue and lavender Imperial style vest and coat, chains draped appropriately across the gap in the jacket. I tighten up my braid and head out in the shiny black boots, clopping my way into the sitting room like a fancy horse.
“That’s certainly made by a human.” Vitara says, judging, but not wholly disapproving. “You look quite handsome in it. Which is odd with your cute features. Not sure how I feel about it.”
Larida is staring at me, while Zaphra is making a face that she can somehow smell the cut of my clothing, and it smells swampy socks.
“Larida? Nothing to say after goading me into this?” I tease.
“Very regal. Though perhaps without the jacket?” She walks over to help me disengage the chains, and holding the jacket as I walk out of it.
“A sleeveless vest? That is much better. Are you not hot in that?” Vitara asks.
“I have heat resistance, and I assumed I would not have to wear the jacket for long.”
“Or we can ditch the jacket entirely. Being a foreign dignitary has some perks.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. I take the jacket from Larida and walk back into the room to change into my tribal-deco outfit, complete with feather coat and sandals.
“I like this very much. The sandals I could do without, but they look nice enough.” She walks up and touches the fabric. “Oh dear, this is very fine, woven in this pattern and no seam? This human knows quality. The feather coat is the style of the Earthen Empire, but it is also of fine make.”
“The clothes are nice, but they can only do so much for you.” Zaphra, you are a bitch and I want to claw your face off.
“You look regal, befitting of a potential Shaman.”
“Thank you Larida, that is a very nice complement.” I look toward the actual Shaman in the room, “I have one more. My tailor insisted that I have a ball gown-like garment to ‘wow’.”
I retreat once more, step into the gown, lacing myself up with considerable effort, and taking the time to re-do my braid in a crown as soon as I’m done, I begin sending aether to the crystals, stopping just before they are about to glow. I’m a little nervous as to what they’ll say, because I know how this dress makes me feel, and if they tear it down it will crush me.
When I finally walk out, I can see the critiques in their eyes, and they aren’t ‘wow’. I take a breath, start filling the remaining aether and start spinning. The lights cascade down my dress again, sparking along with my laughter as I twirl and shine in delight at the masterwork that I am wearing.
I stop spinning, Joy in my heart as I look up to see everyone’s expression’s changed, but I can’t read a single one. Nerves start creeping in and I start fiddling with a whisp of hair while I wait for a response.
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking please say something?”
“Wow.” Larida adds, perfect expression if a little late.
“I think it’s wasted on you, why . . .” Vitara covers the entirety of Zaphra’s face with her palm and shuts her up.
“That dress makes you shine inside and out, whatever style it is in, it is perfect on you.”
I rush to hug the large woman, my eyes turning into fountains, yet again.
“Larida, dear, open the doors to the hall for me please.” The woman jumps to the task and as soon as the door is open, Vitara throws Zaphra through it. Larida shuts the door quickly and latches it.
I’m only slightly ashamed that the squawk I hear through the door filled me with satisfaction.
“Now, am I correct that those are what humans call aether crystals?”
“Yeah, small ones polished like beads. I would normally grind these into sand, but my friend must have taken a bucket full to make this dress. My entire stock of electrum too.”
“I am certain I did not send you enough money to pay for this dress. What promises have you made?” She pinches my face so that I look into her eyes.
“None? I own the mine where I found that stuff.” Larida starts cackling.
“Vitara, you wanted proof that she is a Traveler? That, that was it.” And more cackling. I would scoff, but she’s not the first person to say that.
“Perhaps you should show me what else you brought in that trunk?”
I huff, “Yes mom. Ugh.” I meant it as a sass and a half tone, but the giant goober just beams that I said the ‘M’ word.
I change into my travel tunic and pants and bring the trunk out.
She opens it and pulls out each item. “Magic Flux, Mana stones, Platinum? Dear, me. Mushrooms?”
“Poisonous to advanced rank, used to make pancea potions, and one of the tastier non-meat foods I’ve eaten.”
Woman doesn’t even question my word and pops one in her mouth. Her eyes brighten, and then she starts coughing. Oh no! I rush over and pull a potion out of my storage and hand it to her.
“No, no. The spiciness caught me by surprise. That poison brings some heat to the nostrils. Whoo! By the Sky, the Ancients would love these. You should bring me some fresh stalks so we can cultivate them. Any other rare delights in your care?”
“Uh, yeah, so, I found this grotto.”
“This is a show, not a tell, dear.”
I grumble and summon some grass, the berries I found and the bottle of spring water. As soon as the water comes out, Vitara grabs it and makes it disappear, likely into her storage.
“Why? Humans go to war for that. I will not say more in the land of Man. As for the aether-rich grass and the Goodberries, this all makes sense. The grass is just delicious as far as I know, but the berries are a minor rejuvenator with a mild antidote effect.
“This does, however, inform me that your property will be a Sky Troll settlement. I would hope to arrange it diplomatically. But we have other options if necessary.”
“Okay, that face is scary.”
“Sorry, I was remembering the last war and how utterly stupid it was. It was not only a waste of troll life, but humans taste bad.”
Uh, what? As a former human . . . hm, as a part-time human I would not do that, but I guess it’s not taboo for Trolls? Still gross.
“How receptive would you be if I found a Shaman and a small tribe to travel to you?”
“Fine if they didn’t want to take over what I’ve already built or mess with my humans. I have plenty of land that they could occupy.”
“I will keep it open as an option then. We have tea to attend this afternoon, and it will be the first time you will talk to the Duke. Despite your message about noble eligibility in the Human Empire, as my daughter you are their equivalent of a princess. Tribal leaders are Kings and Queens, and non-leading Shaman and potential Shaman our the closest thing we have to nobility. But do not make the mistake of using such metrics in Troll society. I will teach further on this at a later time.”
I step out of my room hoping to find either Liam or Mary, and Liam is sitting primly on a chair reading a book, standing as he hears me emerge.
“May I help you, Lady Zhantsa?”
“Some meats and cheeses for three perhaps? And is it too much to ask for a barrel of ale for the week?”
“The first is easily done, the second will take our head man to arrange. By your leave, Lady.” He heads down the hall and down the stairs.
“Why are you better at this than I am? You have no chamber maid, and you’re getting a barrel of ale delivered? Larida! You have failed me in your advisory capacity!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Then I shall have to escape my failings by fleeing to your daughter’s arms, I mean lands.” I scoff and swat her as she tries to hug me.
“The way you don’t mind her attention to me, makes me think that women liking women isn’t a problem?”
“Dear, if you think that after thousands of years, that I haven’t explored sexuality, you need to experience more of the world. Plus, you can’t be a fully fledged Shaman without a bit of life-weaving. It’s a spiritual and magical ritual that can be used to regrow limbs or give two women or men a viable embryo. The men one is a bit more complicated, but that’s not the point.”
“Oh, well, I guess the guild of not being able to reproduce is non existent then.”
“Not a lot of male Shaman, so there will be a bunch of eligible women looking to court you for a few decades.” Larida states while she makes eyes at me.
“Is she always like this?” I ask Vitara.
“Yes. She is twice a mother, and it would be a dozen more if she weren’t more open with her opinions and her legs.”
“It is not my problem if I think the Ancients have the right of it. We are not meant to be with one person forever. Even Vitara’s longest relationship ended.”
“He died you twat, I was with him for a thousand years. Though he was infertile, so I would have had to stray eventually. Obligations are hard to meet sometimes.”
“Baby quota?” I ask.
They both scoff. “No, but at least one offspring for the magically inclined is expected. After Norinth, I had three daughters over as many millenia. You were my first pairing with another woman, by the way, no interest in being a mother, but lovely and the daughter of a Shaman from the Fox clan.”
“How do we feel about Elves?” I couldn’t help myself.
“Fine, they know where they came from and we might be the only race they truly respect as a people. If you want to have a daughter with one, you’d have to do the life-weaving yourself.”
“But what if I was madly in love after a century and asked my dearest mother?”
“You fulfill that condition and we’ll talk about it again. Until then, put that pout away.”
***
“Duke and Duchess Rivayne, thank you for accommodating us in the garden. The heated parlor is quite trying on young Sky Trolls.”
Ham up your power-play Vitara. Just lean into that acting role. I am of course comfortable in my sleeveless tribal outfit with accompanying shoeless skirt in the middle of a southern winter.
“I will admit, your resilience in the face of cold is more impressive than I was led to believe. That said, we thank you for the aether crystals to power our heating runes for both the tea and our chairs.”
She asked me to charge swap their crystals with my charged ones, a master stroke of informing the Duke he was out of excuses.
“Of course, Duke, exchanges like these are how we have been amicable neighbors for centuries. Shall we talk business? Or will there be food as well as tea?”
Oof, challenging hospitality.
“I daresay that if we are to discuss business outside, then we will need to switch to wine to keep our blood warm.”
Do you compromise or let them squirm. She defers to me.
“Perhaps there is a higher floor parlor where I may sit near a door while the rest remain comfortable?” Relief shows in both humans sitting across from us.
After the customary pot of tea and regional gossip, which informed me that the Marches were due to be incorporated fully into the Empire in the following year, we move to an observation room on the top floor of the palace.
The pair of humans keep their coats while hot drinks are provided for them, and cold for us.
“To business then. There have been issues in the south that that is our main motivation for this meeting, besides re-uniting a Troll with her people of course,” way to tack that one on, Barnaby. Nice after thought. “The Guild Ambassador filed a grievance about a copper member denying critical resources with unreasonable demands. I will spare you the . . . colorful wording of the report but coming from an influential member of the Adventurer’s Guild I am urged to address this directly.”
Vitara waits for me to answer first. “This I beleive the same person that as Rivayne’s chapter of the guild’s Deputy Guildmaster urged a seasoned adventurer to go against Imperial Law to detain the founders or Marcrest? I believe she then charged said adventurer for crimes against the crown for disobeying the unlawful command. This would lead me to believe that the . . . colorful report is merely an aggrandized account in an attempt to steal my property. She certainly attempted to bully me into taking a deal that included the Guild imposing their people on my land and compensating me poorly for it.”
The Duchess grumbles beside her husband, who pats her hand urging temperance. Or I assume that’s why she took a breath and schooled her features.
“I was not aware of the connection. I regret I did not delve more deeply into the issue. Perhaps after the following topic, we may discuss what resources were identified, and how we may help each other in the future.”
“I would welcome that, thank you.” A massive hand envelops mine and squeezes lightly.
\Well said, daughter\
Warm cozies wrap around my heart.
“The second topic I would like to clear up, is your eligibility for a barony within the Empire. What are your aims in the Southern Marches and with the land that you purchased. Please include dealings with Marcrest and its citizens.”
I chuckle, “I suddenly feel as though I’m sitting for exams.” The corner of his lip raises, but nothing so poignant as levity. “Well, I have ideas of fostering an environment for trades people. A community of crafters and some merchants to help get supplies and distribute goods without having to deal with three or more organizations.”
“We have skill-oriented organizations, such as the Miner’s Union, Carpenter’s Guild, etcetera, but not something collected and joined like this house of trades and mercantile. Seems an excellent aim, and only slightly disruptive.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up, indicating he has more to say. “But far less troublesome than you owning land in the Empire, through no fault of your own. Do you have any aims for peerage within the Empire?”
“I think my daughter may find that difficult with her new status as a Shaman candidate for the Spirehawk Clan.”
“Daughter and Shaman? Congratulations are in order, High Shaman. It also appears that I have several letters to write, including to his Imperial Highness. This conversation when much differently than I was prepared for.”
Silence follows briefly before the Duchess motions for more tea. A woman comes over with a cart and exchanges our pot and serves us around. Barnaby then motions for a butler to attend him, whispering to him before the servant rushes off.
“I have sent for an assessor for our next topic. What resources do you wish to disclose, and do you have examples for quality purposes?”
“A receptionist at the Marcrest branch of the Adventurer’s Guild told me that one would need documentation to sell aether dust or platinum ore within or to the Empire. I also have access to Glow Mushrooms and electrum, but I primarily use those for my own purposes.”
“A veritable bounty that would make you quite wealthy. I can see why someone would be tempted to take advantage of that. Would you be amenable to miners contracting to obtain those resources?”
“Not at this time. If I have the opportunity to sell or exchange these goods, I might be more inclined to trust people’s intentions for my property.”
“If that doesn’t work out dear, Skyreach would be happy to send a trader down. However, I’d bet that Rivayne already has traders that are able to deal in a wide variety of foreign goods.”
“Well identified, and we do. It may be the most appropriate solution for the near term, as the Emperor and his council will likely want to weigh in on this international situation.”
Vitara nods, clearly having dealt with interracial negotiations before.
Shuffling and a thud against the chamber door alerts us before the door opens to a red-faced man in fine clothes and spectacles and the butler that was sent to fetch an assessor.
“Archibald! Thank you for coming at short notice. Please join us.” The Duke snaps and the butler rushes to grab a chair at the edge of the room and brings it to the table.”
“Lady Spirehawk, the examples if you please.”
I proffer the bottle with a half-liter of dust in it, and a few chunks of aggregate with pale grey ribbons speckled with white. Archibald scurries over, puts his head at table level and messes with the diopters hanging off of his glasses. Several gasps and withdrawn attempts to touch the samples he looks over to Vitara.
“May I handle them?” the poor man is practically quivering with excitement.
“You may,” I respond and he immediately takes out a piece of paper, folds it, and pours a small measure of dust in the ‘V’ that was formed.
“I couldn’t be sure if the imbuement was with the bottle or the dust, but it is both! The grains are coarser than our standard suppliers, but the aether levels are fifteen to twenty percent higher. An artificer or similar class must have made this. Likely processed the crystals themselves. The signatures on the Mana Glass bottle indicate that the same artificer is a glass maker of middling skill.”
He grabs the chunks of platinum ore and studies them for a minute before speaking again. “high-grade ore, and by the similarities between these two samples, they resemble the type of ore that comes from a dungeon node. Perhaps a minae worth of pure platinum in each of these.
“For the dust, a half-liter of this quality would fetch perhaps thirty drachma and fifty? The bottle, perhaps ten drachma, but as Mana Glass is beyond rare it would vary heavily based on desire. If you have access to the recipe for said glass, that might fetch ten talents or more.”
The Duchess coughs into her tea and the Duke’s mouth opens slightly and the absurd assessment. “The glass is that impressive, is it?”
“It’s as durable as a castle wall. Imbued as it is, both swords and spells would break against it. Aether dust stores would suffer fewer losses in energy, and moving said dust would be a dream in these nye indestructible containers.”
/I have a horse stall full of vials and potion bottles made of this. Do you think his head would explode if he knew?/
\Likely. But you would also likely be abducted for your knowledge dear. Let’s not start wars we can prevent.\
/Yes mother./ I text sarcastically, wanting to stick my tongue out at her. I’m enjoying the level of banter Vitara wants to engage in, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to calling her Mom non-sarcastically, but this is a fun dynamic.
Archibald replaces the dust on the paper into the bottle before stuffing the paper back into a pocket. “Was there anything else, your grace?”
“Ah, perhaps. If you know a broker that deals in both ore and aether dust that would be willing to travel to the Southern Marches I believe the younger Spirehawk may have a lucrative opportunity for them.”
“I believe I know a fellow, your Grace. Miss Spirehawk, may I share my contact ID?”
>> Archibald Sandoval has shared his message ID.
Please do.
“I appreciate the opportunity, your Grace. I am unsure of the proper etiquette here Ladies Spirehawk, but it is a pleasure to meet you.” He bows and scampers off.
The next ten minutes finds the Duchess spouting idle gossip before inviting me to a young ladies’ luncheon two days before the party being held in Vitara’s honor. The High Shaman tells them that I would be delighted to attend. I can think of nothing I’d rather do less, but Melody would love to be there. Mmm, maybe I should ask her about topics to bring up.
Vitara follows me into my rooms, where Larida is sitting in a lounger reading something on her menus.
“Was there nothing you wanted to address with the Duke?”
“I’ve been here for a few weeks. Anything I could want involves you, and I’ve already expressed my displeasure with the way Rivayne dealt with my request to visit these lands to see you. The more I think about it, the more I like offering the opportunity for a Shaman that wants to branch out a place to start a new tribe on your lands, should you agree.”
“I’m interested in having our people nearby, but we don’t have much in the way of mountains, or cold save the cave network that I claimed.”
“Sky Trolls have not lived in caves since we left them after our initial split from the Earthen Empire. I dare say the Shaman I send would much rather tend the grasses and berries you found and build a tribe in that area.”
“Oh! That’s an excellent idea! I would like that very much.” Someone to tend that resource and perhaps grow some more aether rich items? Sold.
“Larida, how do you feel about a scouting mission?”
“I have some heat resistance, how warm we talking?” The woman stares at me.
“Five degrees warmer than here right now, maybe fifteen degrees warmer in the summer.”
“Not so bad then. Fifteen is doable.”
“Oh, no. Larida, fifteen degrees warmer than here in the summer. So . . . fifty degrees warmer than now at a minimum?”
“I do not appreciate you trying to kill me Vitara. Fifty degrees? Are you part Volcano Tribe, child?”
“Have you not been here for a year or more?” I ask, incredulous at her complaining.
“I sat in the river or stayed inside while the sun was up!”
“I'll set out a cot for you in the cave. It has a lovely pool in it. The poisonous mushrooms will keep you fed. What more could you ask for?”
“I guess crazy is tied with pretty.” Vitalia swats her, causing the smaller troll to stumble.
I blush, because naturally I’m a mess to flattery. Ugh, there are so many pretty women!