Silence had fallen in the throne room, as I—and likely everyone else present—tried to comprehend what we’d just heard.
The Fourth Brigade had returned to the castle far too quickly, each and every knight bearing stiff expressions and guarded tongues. Their commander, along with the rest of us commanders and seconds-in-command, had immediately been summoned to the throne room. Obviously, we all knew something had happened. But this...
“The slaves escaped? Not died, but definitely escaped?” asked the king’s advisor. The commander of the Fourth Brigade nodded, and silence fell again.
We’d all heard his report of the strange changes in the forest and to the monsters within, changes no one here would have dared to even imagine. Those who’d been apprehensive after the crack had appeared in the magestone had long since regained their composure. Those still nursing fears and misgivings (countable on a single hand) were the subject of much ridicule. The atmosphere in the castle had returned to something near normal.
And now this report...
Understanding was written on every face: The forest was indeed a threat. But it was probably too late. Some small part of all of us had known that the forest was changing, but we’d turned a blind eye, interpreting those changes in a way that suited us. We’d thought that the forest all but belonged to us already, and that belief had dulled our judgment.
The new report brought new awareness. If the slaves had indeed fled, it meant that their slave seals—seals reinforced by the power of the Magestone no less—had been nullified. If our enthralled monsters had attacked the knights, it was because their natural instincts—instincts the Magestone had warped—had returned. As for the other alleged changes in the forest—the atmosphere, as he put it—I had no explanation. However, everything I could explain was related to the Magestone.
A thud broke the silence—the sound of the king standing up in frustration. He swept from the room without uttering a single word, his expression warped with obvious anger. Before now, the forest had been all but within his grasp. His anger was to be expected.
A sigh of relief escaped me as the king vanished from sight. I looked at my friend, still standing in the middle of the room. He sighed too, his shoulders drooping with the release of tension. In most circumstances, the king would have regarded the report as a clear failure of his duties as commander of the Fourth Brigade. The king did not tolerate failures, and most of the time, the punishment was death.
I clapped him on the shoulder and began guiding him out of the room. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
He scowled at the words, and I raised an eyebrow. It was unusual for him to let his emotions show so freely.
“What’s going on out there?” he asked quietly.
I’d like to know that too.
“It looked the same as always, but the feeling... I’ve never felt fear like that before,” he continued, his voice shaking.
He really must have been scared for it to have affected him like this. What will the king’s orders be? He won’t abandon the forest, not when he’s so close to conquering it.
No, he’d never back down from a treasure he thought was already his. In all likelihood, war would be his answer. But in our kingdom, wars were won with the power of the Magestone, but the Magestone seemed to be the main cause of the problem in the first place. It might not be wise to continue wielding it as a weapon against the forest. But since the Magestone’s power and the king’s power were one and the same, I doubted he’d decide not to rely on it should things come to war.
“What manner of being is more powerful than a monarch?” I asked. I was met with an expression of utmost shock in return.
Why are you surprised, old friend? Surely you didn’t think it was the monarchs of the forest causing all of this? If they could fight back, they would have done so decades ago. No. Something more powerful than a monarch—more powerful than all the monarchs—dwells in that forest. Or, more likely, has appeared there. But as to what manner said being is...