Chapter 10 Part 2

(Narrator) Welp. I can't say he didn't deserve it. But did you have to go this far?

"He's lucky I didn't take his head off. We agreed our nicknames were private." Christopher says through gritted teeth. Brooding like a true manly man.

(Nebulon) Are you mocking him?

(Narrator) Laughing through your non-existent nose to suppress your laughter isn't healthy. I'm glad the joke landed though.

"Perhaps I should take away his armour for a while." Christopher thinks aloud, staring off into the distance.

"Master, you have His highness buried up to his head. With that much force pressing on his chest, he can't breathe properly. I think this is torture enough." Beerwolf comments, worried for Jasyn's safety.

"I guess you have a point. You can dig him out at dawn then." Christopher rationalises.

Christopher retires himself to a sizable tent at the back of the refugee camp. The Golem Commander follows, loyally protecting his King and Creator.

Beerwolf crouches down, waterskin in hand, offering it to Jasyn. "I wish I could let you free Your Majesty. But I cannot defy his orders."

Jasyn takes a large sip of the clear liquid, its cold effects soothing him. "No. He's right afterall. We were supposed to keep them quiet. I'll have to make it up to him at some point."

(Narrator) Does that mean what I think it does? Nah, no way.

"Really Sire. You're being punished yet you can still think that will happen?" Beerwolf says with an exhausted sigh.

"I have no idea what you are referring to." Jasyn says.

"Don't lie Your Highness. You're hoping that having sex with the master will excuse your transgression!" Beerwolf exposes.

"Shh! Keep it down." Jasyn pleads.

"It's not going to happen. You already know that he'll be upset for a while." Beerwolf crosses his arms disapprovingly.

"What else can I do? He already has everything he could ever want." Jasyn retorts.

"Ever think of just apologising? It's a simple concept to grasp. Not to mention it can go a long way." Beerwolf says, standing back up and joining Christopher in his tent.

Jasyn gets left on his own to stew in his own thoughts as four C.R.A.I.G Golems stand as guards around him.

"*Sigh* Of course that's the first thing he comes up with." Christopher says, leaning into his throne-esqe chair.

"At least we probably know what his wedding vows could be." Beerwolf says. His eyes open wide, Realising he said that out loud. "My apologies, Master. That was rude of me."

(Golem Commander) Does that mean yourself and His Majesty are only engaged?

"By law, yes. However, he is my husband by name. He will be King Consort when we marry." Christopher explains. "Lips tight about this information Commander. If word gets out I'll have you replaced." He sternly orders.

(Golem Commander) Nary a word shall leave my form for my life shall be forfeit.

"Good. Inform the other golems to prepare to return home. Any of them that ran out of mana must be recovered and restored. If a single piece is missing, I dread to think what someone would do with it." Christopher says, organising some paperwork on the desk between them.

(Golem Commander) What do you mean, ma Lord?

"You, are made from a substance only found within the grounds of Loreafan. It's a metal alloy infused with dimensional magic. It is the sole reason you are able to control the armour within your mist." Christopher explains, looking over the document before him. "I call it Ebony. Its black composition makes it difficult to find, that is if I didn't have Dime."

(Golem Commander) I never thought about it. But I am reminded of what one of my soldiers reported to me now. King Jasyn's Mythril armour.

"What about it?" Christopher asks, not paying full attention signing the bottom of the page.

(Golem Commander) It works similarly. I'm not sure how to describe it.

Christopher stops writing mid sentence to look up at the golem. He places the quill inside an inkwell. "Explain."

The golems' amber flame flickers, intimidated by his King.

(Golem Commander) It seems to have a special effect. We however cannot identify it. But I would ask that the metal its made out to be investigated.

(Dime) I believe I know what the Commander is referring to, Sir.

"Go on."

(Dime) When I took the ore out of the ground I of course inspected it like you asked. However, I never bothered to check the other metals. I just conducted a survey on a small chunk of Mythril Ore. It leaks magical power constantly, albeit slowly.

"Which would mean Mythril would have a magical property, like Magicore. What is the result of the leakage?" Christopher asks.

(Dime) Mythril weakens and softens as it leaks mana, theoretically it would create Magicore itself if it were still in the ground.

"That explains why there is so little of it, why it's so hard to find, and why you can only find trace amounts of it around Magicore. But what if it were crafted into weapons and armour, just like Jasyn's set?" Christopher asks.

(Dime) I do not have that information as of yet. No text has ever mentioned this. It's a brand new scientific discovery, Your Highness.

…

Christopher stands, a fist resting on his chin and the other on his elbow. Pacing back and forth, he says, "Hmm, we'll need to inform the GCC. They need to do some studies on this ASAP,"

January 5th 267, a couple months after the attack we witnessed. Trade and relations were quickly negotiated and the Citizens returned to Larterda, disease free. However it left Christopher immoble and unconscious for about three days. On the day, Dime sent a letter to Heather so she could deliver it to the College Chancellor regarding the Mythril research.

Christopher's political campaign now takes him to Tisk. A country split in two, like Stocaea. A Southeastern portion and a Northwestern portion. In the southeast are beautiful grasslands while the northwest is frozen tundra, separated by the split between the two continents between the two parts are dangerous frozen ocean ways populated by monsterous ice slates that flow down the pass.

Christopher had just met the country's Queen. Queen Elysia of Tisk, The Elven Goddess. A paragon of wisdom and grace, standing as the radiant ruler of her elven nation. With silver tresses cascading down her regal figure and eyes as deep and sparkling as ancient starlight, she embodies the timeless beauty and wisdom of her people. Having lived for an impressive 217 years, Queen Elysia carries the weight of her experience with a gentle grace that permeates her every word and action.

Benevolence is the very essence of Queen Elysia's reign. She governs Tisk with a compassionate heart, guided by a deep love for her subjects. Her kingdom flourishes under her wise leadership, as she ensures the well-being of her people and seeks harmony among all the races that inhabit her land. Known for her unwavering fairness and desire for justice, she has earned the respect and admiration of not only her subjects but also neighbouring kingdoms. It was her mind that created the world renowned Tisk Honey Ale.

Beyond her compassionate nature, Queen Elysia possesses a sharp wit that she employs with finesse. Her mind is as quick as a hummingbird's wings, and her words carry the weight of both wisdom and humour. In diplomatic circles, her ability to gracefully navigate through complex negotiations and engage in intellectual debates is renowned. She impressed Christopher on first contact, knowing about his research and telling her thoughts on his thesis'. Her eloquence is matched only by her astute observations and profound insights, which often leave her adversaries momentarily speechless.

Despite her advanced age, Queen Elysia remains an avid learner, always seeking to broaden her knowledge and understanding of the world. She spends hours poring over ancient tomes and scrolls, her mind an ever-burning furnace of curiosity. This thirst for knowledge, coupled with her innate wisdom, allows her to make informed decisions and see through the veils of deception that may cloud her path.

Yet, beneath her regal demeanour and intellectual prowess, Queen Elysia's heart beats with compassion and empathy. She carries the burdens of her people and takes solace in connecting with them on a personal level. Whether she is lending a listening ear to a troubled citizen or providing guidance to a young scholar, her presence exudes warmth and understanding.

In the halls of her opulent palace, Queen Elysia stands as a beacon of hope and inspiration. She is the embodiment of benevolence, wisdom, and wit, ensuring the prosperity of Tisk and weaving a tapestry of unity and harmony among her subjects. Her rule is one that cherishes the past, embraces the present, and illuminates the path toward a brighter future for all who call Tisk their home.

"Ok, we didn't need the logistical breakdown of her entire personality. Especially out loud Tari." Christopher says with a deep sigh.

(Narrator) Of course we do! Never have I met such an awe inspiring individual.

"Gee, thanks." Christopher says sarcastically.

(Narrator) She is a natural born leader…I'm still completely baffled by Shavik though. What made him think that a commoner could lead a nation?!

"I can't argue with that. But give me some credit here Tari. My self esteem is bad enough as it is." Christopher whines.

(Narrator) Come on! You gave her a Dime link. That above all else should tell the entire world how much an untrusting person like you took a liking to Elysia.

"I suppose so. She challenged everything I knew. I like that I can debate such things with someone. An intellectual equal." Christopher says, daydreaming.

"Can you stop? You're making me feel awful." Jasyn complains.

"Blame Tari. They're the one who went on a page long rant over her. And out loud too. What was I supposed to do? Ignore it?" Christopher sasses.

Jasyn grunts, a little annoyed. "I don't care. I know you're not into that but it still makes me feel inadequate."

"Are you jealous? Cmon. I only have eyes for you Sugarloaf. A sweet but dense dessert for me to eat. Alone. In bed." Christopher says with lust filled eyes.

Jasyn's eyes open wide in surprise. "Now? Really?" Christopher gets up and sits on Jasyn's lap. "We can't do it here." He blushes, his member growing more and more erect as the moving carriage forces Christopher to squirm and grind.

"Why not?" Christopher pulls his bicep under Jasyn's chin, holding the back of his head.

"Jill is 2ft away. I'm not gonna have sex with a spectator." Jasyn's blush deepens as his cock becomes more erect.