The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Nine: The Dead Don't Love

By the next day, Thepa received orders for the new mission. The Archduke had informed her that one of the outposts in Clayborn controlled territory had been overrun by orcs. King Starmoon was requesting help reclaiming it. She nodded and told the Archduke it would take a day or two to get her team together, but she would do what she needed to begin preparation. He gave her three.

This time, Thepa was sure it would be different. Of the three ionic crystals scattered throughout the land, Clayborn was the only nation to have established an outpost near its crystal. This meant there was no need to worry about teleporting into an enemy ambush.

For the next two days Thepa stayed up late into the night, preparing for every possible scenario. She coordinated a plan that included teleporting to the ionic crystal, gathering intelligence, and making the six-hour journey to the outpost on foot, or in her case hooves. She couldn't afford to make any mistakes, not with the Archduke's trust in her leadership wanning.

Therefore, it was to her utter shock, when the Archduke summoned her to a meeting late in the night.

"Are you sure, Thepa asked looking at the request. The gold lettering across the white page could have only come from the Archduke, but the missive said very little. Other than a short, "Follow the page" with a loopy 'A' as a signature, the note was blank.

The page stared back at her wide-eyed, quaking in his boots. "Y-yes ma'am. The Archduke says you're to come immediately and talk to no one. My job is to escort you to the castle."

"Alright then," she said ill at ease. She stuck the small note into her pocket and gestured forward. "Lead the way."

The trip from the council meeting room to the Archduke's chamber was short, but it was enough time for Thepa to turn into a nervous wreck. Every possible scenario of what was about to happen ran through her mind ranging from another dressing down to a report about her mother. Given the events of the previous week, both seemed likely. The fear inside her only grew when the page led her pass the chamber down to a room she had never seen before.

I'm being let go, she thought.

The page smiled, gesturing towards the room. "They're waiting inside."

"They're?" she asked, but the page said nothing. Instead, he gave a small pop and disappeared, leaving behind no trace he was even there. Confused she checked her pocket to find even the letter gone.

"A phantasm?" she whispered, opening the door, but she wasn't sure. Phantasms were illusions often used to entertain younglings or fool beasts, not that either one was hard to fool. Most wizards thought them not worth the effort or energy, due to the fact they were rarely good. The problem with phantasms is they came across as caricatures, something drawn up by a street performer to earn a few copper pieces. To pass it off as a real people required a high magical intelligence and creativity wizards often lacked.

Thepa stepped into the small room, closing the door behind her. For a brief moment, the room was dark, but as she turned around, she found a reddish hue washing the walls. More to the point, she wasn't alone.

Five Saintians stood before her, their skin warm and washed, diffused by the reddish hue now cascading over their bodies. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she began to recognize the familiar faces: the Archduke with his commanding presence, President Skydane with his ever-growing scowl, Mistress Verola, the Ministry of Wizardry leader of the city of Wildehaven, and, much to her delight and joy, the newly married Foxes.

"Hey girl," Einkidi said with a smile.

Thepa smiled back at her halfling friend, giving her a once-over. It was hard to tell in the red light, but it seemed that Einkidi had changed quite a bit in the completion since they'd last seen each other. Her brown hair was now tied up in a bun, a departure from the sleek, down style she used to favor. Her youthful face had matured, taking on a more womanly appearance with a slight narrowing of her features. Even her red spectacles, which had once seemed too large for her eyes, now sat more comfortably on the bridge of her nose.