The Fey Conquest, #7— "Spirits, High and Low"
- David Parker
- Oct 2, 2023
- 5 min read
[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]
wain had known for nearly a fortnight about the Sovereign Esper, Leonyde, which now made Sovereign Valley irresistible. At first, it had been hurled as a threat to the invader, that he couldn’t possibly contend with such a being. But after questioning a number of the captives and consulting with Numyst and Krest, they ascertained that the Sovereign Esper had the power to bestow the Right to Rule. The peaceable and comfortable Fey Folk were obeisant to the Leonyde, but none had sought the power to Rule for over a century, as the governance of Iceglass (their name for their combined nation) had been securely in the hands of the latent authority of elders, village chieftains, an (as of now) incomprehensible clergy, and the Espers themselves.
Swain, his thoughts harried by all the possible activities of his rival rune lords, could conceive of nothing more desirable than to obtain either Leonyde’s power by the esper's own volition, or slaying the creature and achieving the same thing, using the magicite left behind by its body to acquire its power. Morris the Pig, Dunbar the Fletcher, and Weez the Badger, though each with their own peculiarities, were all alike ruthless tyrants, and Swain could expect nothing but their future hostility. As for the Fey Folk, Swain was a career military officer in Ivalice, and though he led his men into desertion, he had no illusions that he could simply frolic among them or plead their assistance. He continued to press their citizenry into service, either as recruits or camp followers, or taxing them, or killing them. Their choice. The quaint Fey people, as of yet, never chose death, though there had been a great deal of pleading and protest, as well as needy simpletons who Swain had the sense to overlook.
The war-band approached what their scouts confirmed was a prosperous township, with virtually no defenses. Swain and company approached leisurely, and were endeared to receive an envoy from the village, with gifts to appease them, along with pleas not to tax them and take their espers.
It was discovered this was the Town of the Thrift Espers, lesser espers of Wealth, and had a vibrant merchant and trade community.
“Ah, commerce,” said Swain, “I was getting worried.”
A few of the men imagined the town ripe for the taking.
“Nonsense,” said Swain, “What’s the point of taxing the Fairy People if we can’t spend money?”
In addition to their wares, Swain received what he actually sought, which was the cooperation of the natives. Harvin’s maps were only so detailed, and upon receiving ample business, they were quite amenable to both relate and relay information, as well as offer hospitality, new maps, and entertainment. The merchants of the village had (mostly) whimsical magic items unobtainable in Ivalice, and they had buildings that fostered ingenious gaming services, which pleased the soldiers accustomed to merely throwing dice or employing an exceedingly rare deck of cards. The game purveyors were happy to vend their own cards, teaching the visitors how to play. The sympathetic Fey Folk additionally offered provisions to their countrymen who were already pressed into service.
The Thrift Espers apparently had the nebulous power to “bless” merchants, and though there was confusion as to how it worked, the town was clearly head and shoulders above most of the communities where they had sojourned. Lieutenants barked rebukes at those who suggested they should seize their espers, resulting in a grateful Swain, along with the villagers. However, two of the espers requested to be reborn among the soldiery, which they did after some mournful goodbyes from the townsfolk.
The war-band left in high spirits, and the Fey recruits listened in wonder to hear a foreign marching song from the soldiers of Ivalice, "The March on Limberry":
...The plans of Lords Left undone, Dashed with the hopes For a rising sun, The soldier’s pay Is ‘nough for today, Limberry prays while we make our way! ...
Many leagues away, Maka sent some novices of her monastery among the Order of the Spear, one of the few martial orders of the Fey Realm, to retrieve four of them as per her instructions. The Order served the Esper of the Lance, their patron, and only numbered some 300 warriors, who were under the command of none other than Fenix. They were responsible for either destroying or pacifying the dark espers, as well as the covens and cabals that served them, although this had largely been neglected, and at times proved impossible. Upon Fenix’s inquiry, Maka would tell him she needed more delegates to oversee the mobilization of the armies of Iceglass.
Maka had four Lancers in mind, three males, one female. She didn’t know all of them, but knew these to be level-headed, as opposed to Fenix’s dreams of glory, and even pretensions of grandeur. In addition, she knew these to be the ones with a sense of responsibility for their duties of driving evil from Iceglass.
“The Order of the Spear is being squandered, and I need real lieutenants. Not a word of this to the others.” “Yes, Milady,” said Neverglyn, who Maka credited for her reverent sense of duty to wherever authority fell.
Maka explained that the 300 Spears were nothing as a single force compared to the Tyrants from Ivalice, yet if they divided at least 100 of them to marshal the militia, the Lancers would serve to prepare them for battle. Until this time, Fenix had been dispatching them as messengers.
“Who will serve to relay messages?” said Derreg, who was quiet, but not foolish.
“I want you and five other Lancers to vet and delegate them among the militia. Why have our strongest warriors carrying scrolls?”
The Lancers assented.
“Are there 100 among the Spears who can at least drill the militia?”
After looking at Neverglyn, Derreg said, “They will serve, Milady.” “I want you to pick two of them and oversee securing the route to The Village of the Forge and Steel. You will be using both espers and militia. Don’t confront the invaders, just ensure the route is secure before you start transporting their resources.” “At once,” said Kriyek, who Maka credited for his swift responsiveness to command, notably able to do this without losing his sense. He made off to follow Maka’s orders. “One of you must pick another two to rally these villages” she said, laying out a map, “and make sure they understand what mobilizing for war is, instead of being invited for a picnic!” she shouted this last part, her nerves frayed after days and days of frustration. “... It will be done,” said Derreg.
Maka was simultaneously getting a taste and a sense of command while also being wearied and aggravated by ineptitude and responsibilities. She expelled Warren and set him to training a score or two of novices in magecraft, him being an adept at magic and not much else. Skerrit was set about writing dispatches, and the only one she could still tolerate was Japheth, who managed a calming presence. Though he, for the nonce, was presumably galvanizing various healers in Sovereign Valley, as per her instructions, which she made sure were inscribed, succinct, and as thorough as she could manage.
It was not yet good to be Queen.
*-------------------------------------------*
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