Tenth author's journal 2: Mikhail

30_Ascending overture

Chapter 30: Starting words

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‘spiculum’: A spell that takes the shape of the user's imagination of a weapon, utilizing the elemental arcane of the user. The mana usage is low but it was still uncommonly used because such elemental consternation is quite damaging to the mortals' kind of physique so it is used rarely as a sort of projectile.

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Those days feel like an ephemeral drift of interludes, days passing in and out with no purpose. I regained much of my spell sense while still limiting my output to avoid exhaustion from death and rebirth.

Ragnorr is in good health. To be honest, after meeting Kryos, he perceives me as having a more direct approach. I don't feel as much distance between us as I did previously. He occasionally brings his theories onto the training; preferably while researching with me, they're quite groundbreaking for baseless theories onto my knowledge... if I didn't already have them.

Kryos immediately left after hearing Andromalius return from governing Aeterna. I respect his decision to leave, regardless of whether he is comfortable with his uncle criticizing every action he has planned or taken. Because Blood Claw was not accompanying him, I assumed he was still at the mission site.

The journey to the world table meeting is made by carriage once more, this time for security reasons. Ragnorr accompanied me this time. As for Andromalius, he was back at Saudade's palace as the acting sovereign. With those in place, we proceed to the journey of day and night.

The journey was uneventful. It was neither anxious nor completely silent, as we were having a normal exchange of the information provided by Kryos. The information had been calculated so many times that it should be memorized by heart for the time being.

The human king's attitude toward immediate justice, Kushiel's proclivity to lash out when provoked, and worst of all, the dragon tribe leader's resentment of my reputation as the betrayer. It's stacked against me because the general perception of me is negative.

Enough with the self-doubt; now I must concentrate on how to deal with Kushiel. The rest I can easily clean off later. Regardless of what I say, the human king will take their side, and the dragon leader is persuasive, so I may grant the balance ideal of this meeting.

Upon the world's center between east angel territories and west demon territories, between the north dragon mountain ranges and mortal plains; lies the world castle. Only high elves of the highest regard guarded the meeting place. The crystal-like castle is bathed fully in the sun's radiance as the best place for the course of the sun travel during high noon.

The surrounding magical barrier was constantly poured with mana, such a place to correct old woes. Unlike the blood moon ball, where everyone arrived at different times to the ballroom; the world table meeting takes place only when all of the participant's parties are present.

Given that we are not the first to arrive at the castle, the dragon tribe leader would be. As it was written, "her rise to the position is due to the previous leader perished in such a chaotic time," a white dragon 883 years of age, brings her guards with her. The surrounding magical barrier was constantly poured with mana, such a place to correct old woes. Unlike the blood moon ball, where everyone arrived at different times to the ballroom; the world table meeting takes place only when all of the participant's parties are present.

Given that we are not the first to arrive at the castle, the dragon tribe leader would be. As it was written, "her rise to the position is due to the previous leader perished in such a chaotic time," a white dragon 883 years of age, brings her guards with her. Quite a young one to fulfill such a difficult task…how hypocritical of me to make such a thought.

As scale tainted of numb scars, she walks towards my standing, Ragnorr is still having trouble with preparation at the time so he wouldn’t have the chance to be questioned. Such a lucky one to avoid her vicious sharpness.

“Mikhail, I presume? I am Tanwen the white flame that leads the dragon tribe.” She approaches with a handshake…more than a hand grip it seems. The white flame huh…the flame that purified evil intention and cure all wounds. It has a good meaning but she is acting more as a violent flame that shields her people.

“Well, lady Tanwen. I should introduce myself in a less preferable manner if you excuse me.” Freeing myself from the handshake, I say. It piques her interest it seems, which is not my intention but I am glad to have her off my selves even for a bit.

“Pray tell? You have my full attention since others haven’t come by yet.” Tanwen asks while trying to keep her hand to herself.

“As you know of my betrayal to the angel kind. But devotion to Saudade kingdom is true at heart, so stand here not for the benefit of my own but for Saudade’s survival. Mikhail, I am what you can call the sovereign of Saudade’s kingdom.” I declare with a soft but powerful voice. Her reaction is unfazed but turns into a bored one.

“Oh my, such a tremendous introduction. But alas he wasn’t speaking falsely of your attitude, still humble while spouting the most monstrous things.” Suddenly the spear from her back is held up in front of my face. The spear craved much of the strengthen rune, the craving is quite smeared so it must have been an heirloom or ceremonial weapon.

“Care for a weaponry exchange? Dragons are ones of honorable duel so I wish to test your strength on the battlefield.” Tanwen spurs out her intention indefinitely, so much that she pressures the high elves to let her challenge me of such. Well, it would be a good time for a breather after those days of training.

In the discerning eyes of the authority high elves that manage the castle, they agree for us to have a sparing match between me and Tanwen. The guide leads us to a station where the glass is transformative to sustain any damage caused by fitting causer.

“Are you fine with my weapon of choice, sovereign of Saudade? Or you prefer us both to use a steel weapon for equality.” Swaying that lance, so it’s an heirloom then. But for those lances whose runes fade beyond readable view, it won’t have much effect.

“No need for such. I also planned to use a weapon from my kit. Hold you don’t hold anything against me, lady Tanwen?” Conjuring a spear of ice from ‘spiculum’, I hold it fitting in my small hand, it is much more comfortable than holding other weapons.

“Well, you are quite resourceful. I will keep it in my mind.” Tanwen says as he runs toward me for the opening blows.

*Clack* The weapons clash. Spark follows the dimly light rune to activate, a glimpse of “physical fortitude” and “acceleration”. Striking the frozen manifestation of a javelin, the tip of the dragon leader’s heirloom froze upon impact.

Continuous thrusts toward the easily evasive body of mine to be met with twirls of the cold air from the frozen javelin. This isn’t a show of strength but a battle of stamina whereas those who try their might always lose in the end.

Slowly but surely, the tide of the battle turns. As exhausted from the futile advancement, Tanwen back to the corner to be defensive from the frostbite and the dwindled stamina you store for the finishing blow. Her hand trembles holding the dull lance, which is on the point of breaking.

Destroying one’s heirloom isn’t such a good look for a first impression. Tightening my grip, I swing the javelin up high so the lance can land safely, on the side. Point my javelin at Tanwen’s throat, and she surrenders.

“You condemn you are strong enough to be C-Ash’s sovereign.” Tanwen stutters under her breath, I swear to have heard the name from the Ars Goetia before. If only I have stolen a replica on my escape.

“Why mentioning his name, lady Tanwen? Do you have some connection to my messenger?” Holding on my hand, I ask the obvious.

“He was my savior, back then. Upon hearing about your bad reputation, I was eager to test out how much you were worthy. After this battle, I have seen your choice is respectable for a sovereign.” Tanwen pulled herself up while making an observation once more at me. The answer raises more questions than it answers, what kind of things does that one make notes of me?

“I see…Can you elaborate on that?” As soon as, the question is finished a bell ringing through the crystal castle. The sound echoes loudly as if it was something of great importance, as the high elf that monitors the spar leaves as quickly as he heard it.

“The bell indicates the meeting is ready to begin. Let's push this back to another day. Besides your guide has already come to get you.” Tanwen explains while putting the pinned lance onto her back. It fits neatly with a sword and bow now I see up close her appearance.

Tanwen leaves with a chuckle as Ragnorr rushing in not long after, to find his dumbfounded self. It was an intense but relieved battle that I won.

“Mikhail, there you are. I hear there is a spar. Have you angered one this quickly?” Ragnorr asks while fixing my already stained suit, it was wise of him to choose me a black one instead of the advisor’s suggestion of white.

“No, I have just exchanged blows with her. To relieve stress after those days.” I answer breathing, another ‘illusio’ to change this awful appearance of mine to a better-looking one.

“That’s beneficial, at least. Come let us into the table.” Ragnorr as he leads me onto the hall where the large door is encased with sealed magic. As I breathe slowly from the exhaustion of that battle, the overture comes of my presence in this meeting ends.

The end

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The most memorable part of the songs

One would argue bridge for the melody.

Others would argue verse for the story.

For me, the chorus climax is memorable most.