Bonus Short Stories
A Fallen Princess’s Request
“I would ask for your aid in restoring Faerzen,” Scáthach said.
Both Liz’s and Aura’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” Liz asked.
Scáthach nodded. It was only natural that she would be taken aback. “I have no reason to remain in the empire. My purpose was to ensure the Resistance and the empire did not come to blows, but now that Faerzen has fallen to Six Kingdoms, that purpose is no more.”
She had also sworn an oath with Hiro, but she thought better of mentioning that. In any case, she had little value as a hostage anymore. Six Kingdoms was the conqueror of Faerzen now. Indeed, skirmishes were already breaking out across the nation in defiance of their rule. However, she did not want to plunge her people into war a second time, so she had ordered the Resistance to refrain from antagonizing them unduly. The force had taken refuge underground where they continued to work toward the liberation of their homeland, although so far they had accomplished little; if anything, they had grown weaker with time.
“Some of my subordinates disagreed with my approach and took matters into their own hands,” Scáthach explained. “They tried to start uprisings of their own, only for Six Kingdoms to crush them one by one. It has left our strength woefully depleted.”
Her subordinates had begun petitioning the empire to let her return home if she served no more purpose. They seemed intent on casting out Faerzen’s oppressors once and for all; no doubt they hoped that with her as a figurehead and liberation as their call to arms, the people would flock to their cause. Scáthach, however, knew they had no chance of victory with or without her. The scales were tilted far enough in Six Kingdoms’ favor that one Spiritblade would not tip them back.
“My people have known too much war already. They have no strength left to resist Six Kingdoms. I would not send them to the battlefield again. I understand that I ask a great deal, but please, would you help me in this?”
Liz made to reply, but Aura’s hand interrupted her. “That wouldn’t be wise,” the silver-haired girl said. “The empire is a conqueror too. Your people won’t welcome us. You might only hurt your standing at home.”
It would be far better for the people to rise up on their own behalf and drive out their oppressors themselves. Another nation’s intercession would skew the balance of power, inevitably sowing more discord. And aside from anything else, the empire had no casus belli. The people of Faerzen would not want the aid of their former conquerors. It had no excuse to intervene. Aura’s eyes told the truth, plain and frank: there was little to be done.
Scáthach bowed her head. “It is for restoration that I mean to fight, not liberation. Again, I know the weight of what I ask. I will not deny there may be no profit in it for the empire at all. I can only beg your assistance.”
For a long time, she had advocated for the liberation of Faerzen. To now pivot to calling it a “restoration” was only a semantic distinction—except in one important respect. While the people of Faerzen would certainly rejoice to see their nation rebuilt, there was little in it for the empire, unless...
“Once my nation is whole again, I will relinquish my claim to the throne. The empire may select the next monarch of Faerzen. That should make for suitable recompense.”
“But then your people won’t be free,” Liz said.
Scáthach shook her head. “It would be easy enough to claim your choice has royal blood. My family was scattered during the battle with the empire. It would not be unthinkable for another to have survived. Besides, my people will accept a male ruler more easily than me.”
Both Liz’s and Aura’s breath caught as they saw the extent of her resolve. She meant to relinquish her birthright to see her nation restored. It was the act of a knight, but also the act of a martyr.
“If that’s what you want...” Liz said finally, “we’ll think of a way.” She looked at Aura.
Aura sighed in defeat. “I’ll do what I can.”
“You have my gratitude.” Scáthach bowed her head once more.
A single tear splattered on the floor. In her heart, she whispered an apology to her siblings, her father, her mother. She had condemned the royal line to extinction, and she prayed for their forgiveness. Still, that was a small price to pay to see Faerzen flourish once more. She fought not to restore the crown, but to reclaim the nation that she loved.
She looked out of the window as she raised her head again.
Besides, my spear is pledged to another.
Its Lord was gone now, but the connection still held. They had sworn an oath, and as such, they were tied by an unbreakable bond—an unbreakable curse.
When will the day come, my Lord, when the heavens have need of my spear?
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