A Silvergate story (Chapter 11/11) - Dreams

Story by AnotherGuest on SoFurry

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#16 of Silvergate

The people of the Southern Kingdom have always suffered raids from their aggressive, barbaric neighbors in the Lowlands. When the raids brutally turn into a full-scale invasion, the overwhelmed kingdom turns to its greatest hero: the Silver Warrior.

The silver-furred canine is confident; a prophecy has announced the venue of this threat, and has proclaimed him the victor. He boldly challenges the barbarian king to a one-on-one duel, but the tides of fate turn against him.

The captive hero watches dismayed as he is exhibited wearing nothing but shackles, and brought back to the occupied Quiet Palace as entertainment. As he gets to know the price of his defeat, he wonders. Will he be saved? Or will he be made to know his place in this new order?A Silvergate story is an 83,000 words pornographic novel in eleven chapters centered on a hero-breaking theme. This is the final chapter - Dreams. It is also available on my Patreon in PDF format. I also want to mention my Patreon supporters Stonxag and Garth Z for contributing to the AnotherGuest project, which helps me create entire novels for free. Thanks a lot!

Summary

In this chapter, the Black King opens up to his slave. The Quiet Palace is shaken by a diplomatic visit of the utmost importance. The Silver Warrior demonstrates his training. Conflicts are settled, and new ones arise. The room is set for one more ball. The Silvergate awaits...What to expect from this novel:

  • Male on male kinky nonconsensual sex. Mostly.

  • A dark tone. This story can get very mean spirited and brutal. Not all scenes are aestheticized in a way that is meant to comfort the reader. In fact, most aren't. If descriptions of abuse in a fictional setting make you uncomfortable, or if you tend to empathize strongly with POV characters, some parts of this story will make you squeamish almost without a doubt. Please approach the novel carefully.

  • An exploration of power differentials, and how this relates to sex and identity.

  • A sprawling story arc, intensely focused on the psychological development of the protagonist, and how he deals with his difficult situation. There are many characters and events in few locations.

  • Fittingly, expect less humor than in other stories such as ESF. There might still be one or two things to make you laugh here and there.

  • A first-person point of view.

Note that the numerous tags are for the entire novel, and won't necessarily all be contained in every chapter.


-- How do you plan to rule?

I talked slowly. I gazed at the Outsider. I desired a real answer. The reptile became quiet. His arousing touches persisted. The hand that abandoned my collar began to squeeze my nipples. The tremors in my rigid sex augmented in frequency as I responded to the anal teasing. I caught myself aspiring to be made his soon. Damn. That was rather eager of me, but it didn't bother me as much as it should've. Contradictorily, I also found myself pleased to notice that my owner dropped no hints of being about to change anything about our respective positions. I enjoyed having him be gentle with my displayed body, and letting my open leg rest against him. I wished it to last.

-- What is the most important thing in life? he whispered.

That was something I'd thought about. I could really only see one answer. It was obvious and sappy.

-- Happiness, but I don't imagine that's what you wanted me to say.

-- No, you are not wrong. Happiness is fickle though. It comes and goes. I am looking for a more tangible thing that is certainly related to it. It enables it.

-- I don't know, owner. What do you think it is?

-- To belong. I think it is to belong. To fit with your context, if you will. To know it, to feel safe in it, to be able to interact with it to obtain what you need, and to believe that it will stay there for you, stable, enduring.

It appeared sensible enough to me. I let the Outsider continue. I wagged my tail a bit to encourage him.

"I caught a glimpse, once, of a world like a flawless tapestry, where everything and everyone belonged. I lost something that day, and perhaps this is my way of making it all worth it. I want to give us that world. No. I want to give myself that world. The fact that everyone else would benefit from it is incidental."

I pushed myself up on my elbows, to see my owner better. He let me.

"Long story short, I wish to rule over an empire of justice, of devoted people who chant my name. It is ambitious, I know, but, in the end, there is only room for one king. This world can only be fair if power is unnecessary for happiness. Do you believe that? Can a slave belong as well as a king, or a hero?"

I focused on what I'd just heard. Could I really be as happy in slavery as I was as a hero? It was a critical interrogation, a direct formulation of a problem that I'd been indirectly grappling with ever since I'd accepted my fate as a slave. I was tempted to say no. The old me, the warrior that challenged the Lowlands Demon to a duel was screaming at me to say no, but I didn't. With my abdominal muscles and my hips, I began to undulate softly, grinding my ass into my owner's possessive touches. He liked it, and he nuzzled my upright leg.

-- I honestly don't know.

-- I have to believe it. I choose to believe it. I refuse to consider that so many might be born to suffer alone, helpless, lost like children on a nightly road.

My owner sank us both into a deep melancholic torpor. I was all too knowledgeable about the pain and worry of having no path and no home.

-- Why do you care if you're not the one who suffers?

-- Because it is ugly. It offends me.

The reptile shook his head, flourishing his horns dramatically to remove the sticky grief from his mind. He gave my rump a tiny smack, and he fondled my body more firmly again.

"I think I will rule well. It is not so hard. When I led troops for the Blood Masks, the soldiers loved me. Many volunteered to be transferred under my command. I found it strange, because I did not care for them at all. I managed them. They were a limited resource, to me. I simply considered the objectives within my reach, and I calculated the least costly way to accomplish them with my resources. They loved me for that. They even thought I loved them! I tried to be an efficient commander, but all they saw was an altruistic one. This is merely because I treated my command as a duty, not a reward. You were right. I was a slave. A slave commander. It taught me how to lead. It taught me that power well-handled grows. All that is necessary is to be lucid, humble, and bold enough to seize the opportunities that present themselves. Morality has nothing to do with it. Leading wisely is the path to power."

I had to be straightforward with myself: none of this sounded to me like I was being deceived, but I knew the Black King. I was fully aware that his true strength, his very best weapon, was his ability to manipulate. He didn't hide or lie to assuage his guilt -- I wasn't even sure that he knew what guilt was -- but he read people, and he masterfully presented himself as what they wanted to see. I didn't know if he was playing me. Then again, why would he bother? I was his simple property, a prize, a part of his spoils from the war with the Southern Kingdom. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to tell myself that I could leave the last of my responsibilities toward my people to him, and peacefully accept to be his loyal slave. I wanted to shed what was left of the hero. It was burdensome to carry. I tried to challenge his view a bit more.

-- Can't you stop here, then? Why plunge the nation into war after war? Rule the South. There's no need for conquest.

-- I wish that was true, but no. It is insufficient. I do not lead alone. I need my lords to follow my example. When I die, I need the next king to abide by the same principles, lest my legacy will crumble. Sadly, people are unwise. They do not know what they want. They believe they want power, and so they seek it. A caring king will not impress them, but if the legendary Black King forms the greatest empire anyone has ever laid eyes on, they will gape in awe, and they will think that this is how they should do it. They will discover what they always truly wanted. Their people will be happy, and because of that, they too will belong, as rulers.

-- Your plan is to teach the powerful to care for the weak?

-- They already do. Some just forget. Besides, it is the combined strength of the weak that makes power.

-- Are you sure about all of this?

-- No. We will find out if I was right.

-- We? What do you mean?

My owner finally moved. He stretched my leg open to the limit of my flexibility. It stung. I gasped in surprise when he pushed two fingers up my hole.

-- Maybe it means that I will ask for your help one day. Maybe you can be a respectable force again, committed to your owner, enforcing his order. Or...

The Outsider sat on top of my chest. His knees flanked my armpits. He grabbed my ears with one hand and unlaced his pants with the other. I barely had time to understand before my head was pulled up, and I was silenced by his robust cock.

"Maybe it means that you will watch my ascension from your place crawling at my heel, without significance or dignity. Maybe your only contribution will be as a passive spunk receptacle, pleading for a tad of affection after you are done licking off the seed covering your nose."

I polished the lizard shaft. My ears were rubbed and pinched as encouragement. My owner smiled faintly; he wasn't angry at all. After a minute or two, he let me take a short break so that I could adopt a less strenuous posture. He lounged back, and I lay down over his sprawled legs to service him. I encircled his waist with my arms. For quite a spell, I was the only one to make noises as I licked and sucked.

"It unsettled me."

Whoa. I stopped. He sounded in pain for a mirage of a moment.

"I thought they would welcome me after the initial shock."

I absolutely didn't know what to do with that. I remained petrified.

"Meleth says I am not ready to come back. I wonder if he is right, but someone important is coming. I must be there. It is important for me. I do not know why I am telling you this."

I resumed very carefully. I was stopped without delay.

"No. You did very good, but stop. Some other time."

The Outsider sat up at the edge of his bed. He massaged his forehead. I'd never seen him like that. Not once. He was beyond drained. He was disheartened. I moved next to him on my knees. I touched his horns, trying comfort him. He stared at me.

"Thank you for trying to warn me that day."

Upon hearing this, some highly concentrated guilt must have crystallized in my flesh, because it hurt physically. He would never know. I buried my secret deep in a hole within my soul. I smiled and he smiled back. The moment passed. He seemed better.

"Tag along, slave. I want you to meet her."

The Black King dressed up. I observed quietly while he slapped on layer after layer of black decorative elements: leather bracers and armor, belt, shoulder pads, shin guards, fingerless gloves, fur-trimmed waistcoat... It was interesting to learn how long it took him to put on his ceremonial armor. Eventually, he wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, and he was done. He even took his crown, which he hadn't worn since the coronation, but apparently he decided it would be too much. He placed it back on his desk.

"Come."

We left his room. Meleth ambushed us.

-- What were you doing? She could arrive at any moment! She entered the capital hours ago.

I saw my owner shift his balance and discreetly form a loose fist, but Meleth didn't.

-- There is still time. There is even time for us to discuss something.

-- What's wrong? asked a wary Meleth.

The Outsider slugged him in the face. The captain staggered into a reflexive battle stance. He grasped his jaw and saw the blood covering his palm.

"Fuck! Sir, what-"

The Black King swung for his jaw again, but this time Meleth moved with the blow to absorb it. When I saw his face, I witnessed yet another thing that I'd never seen before: Meleth enraged. It was scary. My owner raised his fists and jabbed at him. When the captain blocked and struck back, I drew the unavoidable conclusion that Meleth was about twenty times the fighter that the king was. From the very instant that Meleth fought back, he proceeded to destroy the king. In a flurry of continuous strikes, he pummeled the king's abdomen and head, switching his target as soon as his victim awkwardly attempted to protect himself. I was completely taken aback. What could I do? My owner spat blood and laughed as the assault continued. He jumped at his friend to claw him but Meleth flattened him with a single palm strike. He fell over Meleth's legs and grappled them, succeeding in tripping him over while the warrior rained hits on his -- luckily -- lightly armored back. The manacharians rolled on the floor. The king was all-claws-out, possessed, biting and kicking, while Meleth resorted to his fists only to block and strike. When he had enough, he shoved my owner under him, and headbutted him down to the floor. Meleth rose and stepped back, still in fighting stance. My owner twisted in pain and laughter. One of his horns at the back of his head had broken. The entire thing was bonkers, and I didn't know what to do.

-- Stop! I shouted. He's wounded!

Meleth was seized by the violent realization of what he was doing. His arms dropped loosely to his sides.

-- Ah, shit. Sir...

The captain bowed to pick up his friend, lifting him by the arm. The king wavered to his feet.

-- What? the Outsider spat. Is this it? Are you done already? Have you caused enough damage? Otherwise, maybe you can get my pet killed again.

Understanding began to flicker in Meleth's eyes, and I knew without a doubt that my owner had been right. His expression crumbled into a mask of shame. He gazed at me with despaired puppy eyes.

"Oran drowned him... in a bucket. It is pure dumb luck that he is still alive."

My owner could scarcely stand, bloodied and beaten, but he managed to point his claw accusingly. He spat some blood.

"Next time I give you a task, you will do it."

Meleth seemed to shrink. His head hung so low that I couldn't see any part of his face.

-- Yes, sir.

-- Get me something to wash the blood.

Meleth left, and soon returned with a wet towel. The Black King washed up. Parts of his face were already beginning to swell. Manacharians didn't tumefy easily, on account of their scales, but this fight would show for a while. Entirely unbothered by that fact, my owner threw the towel back to his subordinate.

"Any mess on my armor?"

Meleth wiped a bit of additional blood here and there.

-- It's fine, I think. I apologize to you both.

Meleth didn't look either of us in the eyes.

-- Go away.

Meleth was gone. The king patted my shoulder.

"Go and make yourself presentable. At least one of us has to look good. Use the royal bathing room. If anyone gets in your way, tell them I sent you, and that it is the wrong day to piss me off. Join me in the throne room when you are done."

I poured myself a bath. Alone. It'd been a while since I last cleaned my fur without a public. I soaked in the cool water. I hurried, so there was no time to heat the water, but I promised myself that, next time, I'd have an authentic warm bath.

I dried my body, and I ran to the throne room. No one paid attention to me. Servants ran into circles. The palace was thoroughly excited about the king's visitor. A rich purple carpet was getting rolled out and straightened in the middle of the throne room. The braziers were lit despite the fact that it was noon. Many of the most important lords of the kingdom accumulated around the throne until the Black King chased them off toward the benches for the public. The king desired an atmosphere of privacy. The lords pouted, but they went and sat. Einar was there as well as most other captains that weren't in the field, including Meleth. Some Southern lords were there too, notably Baron Jan, whom I avoided to grace with even a look.

The ambient unrest infected me. I knelt at the base of the throne with a submissive hands-behind-my-back posture that I assumed the Outsider would like. He tapped on his armrest to attract my attention. With a hand gesture of his palm flattening down, he indicated that I should get comfortable and relaxed, but he was pretty excited himself. He did contain it, though.

"Patience," he said.

I didn't get it at that moment. Why was he telling me to be patient? I wasn't even totally certain of who was coming. I had a decent idea, yes, but I didn't personally care all that much. We waited. After that, we waited some more. It was boring as hell, but it was also nice to have some time to process the extreme events of that day. After all, I'd drowned, and my owner had returned. The hectic activity in the room, however, died with no hope of revival. Some of the public got tired of waiting, and left. We waited. The Black King ordered some servants to bring him supper on a platter, and to fetch and fill my bowl from his room. He made me stand by while he ate, and then, after everyone got to contemplate lengthily that I required permission to eat the food in front of me, everyone got to watch me eat from my bowl at his feet. I presumed that I could look forward to a few days of that sort of thing, as blowback for my period of increased independence. Following this, we waited. Most of the public left. My owner paced around to stretch his legs, and then, inexplicably, he went and sat next to me by the throne. While we waited, I progressively leaned into him until I was completely laid over his knees, and I received a lot of belly rubs. By then, all of the public had given up on anything interesting happening, and had disappeared, save for Meleth, who sheepishly joined us. He sat beside me. I glared at him until he got up, and sat next to the king. He and the Outsider made up, presumably by being close together in silence. They ended up singing a manacharian song, and it was pleasant to see them being cheerful. They translated it for me. It was the story of a manacharian who wanders the desert in search of his lost second wife. He struggles a lot, doesn't find her, gives up, and returns home to his first wife. I thought it was a stupid song, and they agreed. Being bored with my owner was sort of fun.

And then we fucking waited.

-- She might've decided to postpone, proposed Meleth.

-- She will come when she is ready. It is her way. You know that.

-- Frankly, she could hurry up for the king. She did request an audience.

-- And I am surprised she even bothered. Let her have her way.

-- As you say.

Matriarch Asnor of the Blood Mask Clan, unifier of the Boneheads and de facto queen of the Lowlands arrived at the same time as the night did, nine hours after we'd begun to wait for her. When she let herself into the throne room, entirely unannounced, Meleth was lying onto his back, directly on the floor next to the steps, I was sitting in the Black King's lap, sideways across the throne with my knees folded over one of the armrests, and the king had fallen asleep holding me. Needless to say, we looked like damn fools.

-- Pretty much what I expected from you two.

The startled king almost dropped me, and Meleth got to his feet so fast that I never saw him move. The captain crossed his arms with defiance.

-- Really, Asnor? Nine hours late. And why didn't the servant announce you?

-- I threatened him.

-- Great.

The lioness marched in from the entrance, her tan body covered with crude plates of heavy iron, and bones hanging from her chain belt and shoulders. The fur of her face was dyed in red and white. She was the perfect image of the strong barbarian clan matriarch. Yet, when she spoke, it was with a controlled hint of humor in her tone. It was like seeing a female, larger, rawer version of the Black King. She walked directly to him, ignoring Meleth without hesitation. He shrugged and let her walk all over him. She appraised me. It was intense. I lowered my eyes. Satisfied, she set to defy her last remaining opponent, the one that was stroking my head.

-- Someone had a bad day, she said.

-- It shows what you know. I am actually having a terrific day.

-- What happened to your face?

-- I fought with Meleth.

-- Again. Did he kick your ass?

-- Of course not. I messed him up until he apologized. Is that not true?

-- Yes, sir, confirmed Meleth.

-- You lost a horn.

-- I did not like that one.

-- It'll regrow.

-- And I shall break it again.

They smiled.

-- Did you miss me? the matriarch asked.

-- If only I could say no.

The Outsider gave up and bowed his head. Asnor was on top of this room.

"Let me get you a seat."

-- Oh, no, please. I'll get one myself.

Asnor turned her head to the side.

"Meleth! Bring me a seat."

The captain grumbled, but he went and fetched a chair from the banquet table.

-- You know, commented the Black King, this is why we got away from you.

-- I was a jerk?

The dark reptile nodded.

"Sounds reasonable."

Meleth arrived with the chair. She grabbed one of his horns.

"Thank you, Meleth. Go get yourself a treat."

Holy shit! There was no more possible doubt. She was the one, and she'd owned not only the Outsider, but also Meleth. The latter gloomily took his usual spot beside and a step or two behind the throne, in support of his friend against their former mistress. Asnor sat down, and only then did I grasp the situation. The formal attires; the interest the meeting had engendered; this wasn't a mere visit from an acquaintance, it was a diplomatic meeting between the two most powerful sovereign leaders in the known world. Meetings like this didn't happen at random. Something was up. The barbarian queen pointed to me, and it brutally brought me down to the reality of the moment.

"I can see you've taken to your new plaything."

The king was strangely mellow, completely letting his guest take charge of the encounter. He stopped patting me, and pushed me forward by my collar to exhibit me. He placed me to my knees between the two of them. Utterly intimidated, I nonetheless took up a decent display pose, with my back straight and my hands joined behind me.

-- Indeed. We are making good progress with his training.

-- I'm surprised. I always knew you had a thing for other races, but I thought women were your style. I thought I was your style.

My owner chuckled.

-- So did I, but I like him. There is no point in denying it. He pleases me.

-- Ha! You've been hanging around Meleth for too long.

-- Maybe that is it. Hero! Present!

That was it. That was the part of my life that I still struggled with. It made me doubt that I would ever fully get used to being a slave. My owner wanted to show off how beaten I was, how spiritless I'd become. I didn't mind so much doing the most degrading things imaginable for him in private; he knew me, I knew him, and his opinion of me wouldn't change. When others were involved, it was different. It hurt. It would affect how the world interacted with me. Still, I was a slave, and I'd received an order. I obeyed. I turned around, lowered my head, raised my rear, spread open my cheeks, and lifted my tail. I presented my anus for consideration or use, perfectly illustrating the thorough removal of my dignity. There was a stillness during which my total obedience was evaluated, as well as my most personal physical attributes.

-- To think this wretched thing is the same creature that destroyed the sapphire golem in Blackpatch. How was it in battle? Was it tough?

-- He was ill-prepared. I crushed him with magic. He came at me with two swords.

-- No way!

They had a good laugh at my immense stupidity while I kept the stance like an object. The worst of all was that they were right. I was_ill-prepared, it _was dumb to use two swords, and I was an object, now. I was only temporarily allowed to be a person now and then because my owner was lenient. Worthless.

Meleth cut in.

-- What would've happened if you'd fought him without magic?

Meleth knew the answer; he merely wanted to make my owner say it out loud. The king looked at Meleth as if he'd just asked for the color of the sky.

-- What do you think? He would have dismantled me.

Asnor sounded genuinely surprised.

-- Really? With two swords?

-- Even without swords. When will you get it through your head that I do not fight?

-- But I saw you fight! protested the matriarch.

-- No, you saw me get into heavy armor, and pick a heavy weapon that requires no skill whatsoever, and use magic to animate them while I was inside.

-- It's true, corroborated Meleth. He sucks at every imaginable form of combat.

-- Do not be so eager to mock me, Meleth. You would have been obliterated too.

Meleth didn't seem convinced, but he didn't argue the point. Asnor, however, demonstrated her disbelief. She put her finger on top of my open bum.

-- You think this can take on Meleth? Intriguing.

In this moment, down on the floor in abject subservience, being praised about anything was so soothing that, for a few seconds, I loved Meleth for orienting the conversation this way. The reluctant, skeptical respect in Asnor's voice was sweet nectar that helped me endure the humiliation.

-- Roll over.

I rolled to my back, more than willing to leave the presenting stance. I raised my knees and wrists like a mindless dog. Asnor curved forward to look at me.

-- He seems docile. What did you do to him?

My owner smirked. He didn't answer that, and it seemed to annoy Asnor a lot.

-- Amazing how the fiercest warrior of the South can be made into a loyal pet within this short a period, is it not?

He was rubbing it in, but curiously the provocation wasn't destined for me. It was for Asnor.

-- You beat it into him.

My owner walked to me from his throne, and lifted me to my knees. He placed his chin over my shoulder, and made us both look at Asnor.

-- Are you a boring, damaged empty shell, slave?

-- No, my owner.

-- What do you think about our current situation?

-- You want to make the matriarch jealous. I should demonstrate how well-trained I am, while remaining capable to think independently to maximize my value to you, my owner.

-- What were you before our duel?

I could easily figure out what the Black King needed from me. It was strangely satisfying to back him up so efficiently, despite the disgrace. At least, I could be a highly desirable, impressive slave. I laid it on thick.

-- The renowned Silver Warrior, Guardian of the Silvergate, my owner.

-- What are you now?

-- Your personal property, my owner, to be treated and put to use however you desire.

-- Are you happy about it?

I got stuck. I had to say yes, but there was a risk that it was true, and it was too daunting to admit because of that. I found a way out of it.

-- My feelings are irrelevant, my owner. I submit unquestioningly.

The show ended, and the Black King returned to his throne. Matriarch Asnor was livid with envy.

-- How? she demanded.

-- I know what works. Look at him.

He addressed me.

"Asnor is an old friend of mine. Be welcoming."

I crawled to the visitor's paws, wagging my tail, and I rubbed my head against the iron plate covering her thigh.

-- Yeah, he's cute alright.

The matriarch gave in. She hoisted me up on her lap in exactly the same way that my owner often did. I figured the sitting of slaves in laps was either a time-honored Northwestern tradition, or he'd gotten it from her. She petted my folded leg, greedily, and squished me against her breastplate. She wanted a whirl with the conquered hero. I could tell. I pondered what it would be like to have her strong body riding mine like a good mount. It didn't attract me at all, and my mind instead defaulted to Kherada's kind smile in a split second. Yes. I'd let her ride me all night. I'd even beg for it. But she was interested in Cane. I was almost certain of that. Life was dumb, sometimes. Not that I could've had her anyway. I was restricted Black King booty.

-- I assume you did not travel all the way from Rousridge to check out my new toys.

The Outsider wasn't his usual self, his sharp wit blunted by the rock-hard difficulty of facing such an intimate part of his past. He wasn't fully neutered either. He'd managed to fluster the queen of the Northwest by making her want something from him, so he seized the opportunity to strike, and to engage in politics while he had momentum. Asnor instantly let me go. When I hesitated, she pushed me down. No distractions for her. My owner made a disappointed face, and called me back with a gesture. Good try.

-- You're right. I didn't.

The atmosphere abruptly got very solemn. We all tensed up. Asnor continued:

"I came to warn you that trouble is brewing back home. An important chief is spreading dissent among the clans. Many have already forsaken you, and are planning to recall their soldiers."

-- What? Impossible. Who does?

-- Me.

My owner was bewildered. He struggled to maintain his composure. His air of confused disbelief was near infantile.

"When you proposed to unite our armies, we assumed the point was to attack the Southerners, not become them."

The Black King absorbed the shock. He waved his hand.

-- Wait up. Did you miss the war? Last time I checked, I had come in here as a conqueror.

-- You settled in.

-- What was I supposed to do? Burn the place?

-- Yes! You should've burned the cities, taken everything you could carry, and then you should've brought your soldiers back. An entire nation's worth of slaves waiting right next to our borders to be picked up whenever we needed them. Imagine that. Instead, you nestled here like a weak fool, dealing with those puffed up nobles instead of taking their heads off. And then what? You took the capital, and gave a speech! You told them not to worry. Well, _I_am worrying.

-- I cannot believe what I am hearing. I took the South. It is mine! I am proposing to add these lands, all of these rich lands to our control, and you would spit on that?

-- I would. I do. You would have us adopt their ways. You would have us become feeble and pampered. We won't accept this.

-- Who said anything about adopting their ways? And weakness? Do you really want us to live on winter raids forever? For the first time, the Lowlands and the Midlands will be united under Northwestern rule: my rule. Do you truly fail to see the empire-building possibilities in that? We can stake our claim on the entire known world!

-- We don't need the entire world. We need our greatest son to be one of us, Malriel.

Malriel. He had a name. The Outsider had a real name. It was beautiful. It was also obviously Southern. What the hell did that mean? Was he born here? Asnor had spit his name like an insult. The reptilian king changed. His spirit blackened. His gaze offered nothing less than pure undiluted rage. He stood.

-- This is it, then? I was raised on the wrong side of the border, so I am not good enough. Were you always disgusted by me? Were you simply waiting for me to leave with my armies in order to strike? You may be better at underhanded politics than you give yourself credit for. Why even help me in the first place?

Asnor got animated as well. She pushed herself up so violently that her chair fell back. I discreetly slid out of their way. Meleth hung back as well.

-- You challenged me! she yelled. I needed you! I needed your help, and you challenged me! Even now, you still challenge me, Mal! What did you expect?

The Black King roared.

-- That you would trust your own! That you would trust me to take over! I am the better leader. I deserve it!

The energy died down. They locked stares.

-- Oh, Malriel. You live in a dream. You were such a good boy. Why did you have to get all of these ideas? You? King of the Southern Kingdom? Wake up.

Malriel gritted his teeth.

-- You betray me.

-- Don't start with me. I'm here, no? Did I come here to taunt you? I was always on your side. I still am, but you went mad! Whatever happened up there with the Diviners, it changed you. Enough! Today, I deliver my one and only warning. Raze the Quiet Palace. Let your army have the cities. Take your pet with you along with whatever other prize you want, and then bring everyone home. Leave the South, and leave the Silvergate for the idiots who think they need it. If you don't disband your troops within a month, we'll be at war. Make up your mind. Come home.

Malriel fell into his throne, limp.

-- It was you. You tried to have me killed. It did not work, so now you are here to negotiate.

-- To be honest, I didn't think you would listen to reason. I still don't, and I never tip my hand.

-- You tried to murder me!

-- Get a clue! Me? Everyone did! The Fair King, the Tsam! Everybody chipped in! No one wants you here! You threaten all!

It'd been so obvious. How could I miss it? Of course, she was right. It was over. Much of the Black King's armies would turn against him. The Lowlanders would attack from the Northwest. The Tsam would invade the unprotected border from the East, and liberate the besieged Southern army at Cierra. The Midland defectors would switch sides again and rejoin their old liege. Backed by the Wizards Guild, they would retake the cities, and their forces would grow even more. Malriel's reign was finished. He'd never form an empire. He'd never change the dynamics of power. I was afraid of the pain it'd cause me to watch him collapse. I saw one thing. Hatred. He spoke slowly, ominously. The ground fucking trembled as he did... something. He channeled so much magic that he began to glow.

-- I see the future, Asnor of the Blood Mask Clan. Listen, and mark my words. I will unlock the Silvergate. Cierra will lighten the night sky when she burns, and the Fair King will die screaming with her. The Tsam will stab, but they will be the ones to bleed from the wound. The Eminents will weep and bend to the black wind. As for you, matriarch, you will fail. Your clan will drown in its own blood. Iron will shatter your mind and body, and you will fade from this world forgotten and rotting. I swear that as I witness it will be.

My owner panted. The quake stopped.

-- Cute.

The inhabitants of the palace were coming out of their rooms, panicked and dressed for bed, when Matriarch Asnor, with her warning delivered, departed. The commotion caused by Malriel's spell quickly spread around, reinforcing itself as servants, guards and nobles witnessed each other's agitation. My owner lingered on his throne, as tense as he'd ever be. Wrathful. I wondered if I was supposed to do something. I cautiously tried to touch him under the knee. I was shoved away with a kick. It wasn't enough to hurt me, but it was definitely enough to make me keep my distance. I'd tried. Meleth emerged from his dark corner, prepared to advise his king, or to take his orders. After a while, he broke the silence.

-- I'll prepare for the campaign Northwest. I suspect the Black Guards and the auxiliaries will be sufficient to quash the rebellion.

The witch king swept that proposition away with his hand.

-- Can you imagine it, though?

-- Sir?

-- Disbanding the armies. Returning to the Lowlands. Can you see me taking up a farm with a couple of slaves?

Meleth giggled.

"I would put on a straw hat and sit on my porch all day long, watching my crops grow with the Silver Warrior sleeping lazily in the shade next to me."

-- Ha! Ha! Ha! I'd come over every two days from the next farm for an afternoon of cards!

-- Yes, something like that. We would eat vegetable stew and cheese, and take long, boring forest walks everyday to check our traps. Can you picture that?

-- Ha! Fuck no.

They finished laughing.

-- I can.

Meleth took Malriel's shoulder.

-- But that's not what you saw.

-- No.

The Black King rose.

"I will be heading to the Lowlands. It must be me. You will remain here with your Black Guards. This is a Bonehead matter. I will only take them and the marsh tribes. I will order you to maintain control over the Southern Kingdom while I am away. The methods are to your discretion. This is unexpected; any dissident nobles from here are bound to use this to wriggle out of my grasp."

-- As you wish, sir. May I suggest that you take some casters with you? The Blood Circle will do you more good than they will me.

-- I will not take them. Keep them, and keep them close. The Fair King will attack with the Tsam. If things escalate to an all-out battle, you do not want to be on the side with the lesser skill in the arcane.

-- They won't like being left behind. You know them.

-- Promise them an increased share of the spoils if more fighting occurs.

Meleth opened wide eyes.

-- Do you think they might leave or switch sides?

-- No. But it will make them think I am afraid they could. It will flatter them, and it will make them see the importance of their role here. They will know I am not disregarding them. They will take the job seriously after that. They will feel honor-bound to fight even the Wizards Guild, if they have to.

-- And you say you're no politician.

-- I never said that.

The king had regained his majesty. He returned to being a dark, wild force to be reckoned with, as if nothing happened. However, there was still a deep nuance of sorrow in his voice when he turned to me. He was contemplating my subjugated stance, but he wasn't talking to me.

-- I thought it was over.

I felt loyal to him.