Heretic Spellblade - Epilogue Pt1

A multi-layered magic circle flickered with light in the center of Gareth’s tower in southern Falmir. Powdered crystals lined the chalk lines and small piles of varying elements lay at the confluences of the many lines in the magic circle. Crystalized sulfur, ammonia contained in a beaker, large chunks of charcoal, and far more—an esoteric list of ingredients that Nathan had collected with ease.

Of course, deciding to gather these particular magical catalysts had been a long journey. Years of research, often into subjects the Inquisition and Sorcerer’s Lodges considered forbidden. Past attempts to do what he experimented with ended poorly.

Inside the magic circle lay a small apparatus that held a large beaker of cloudy water.

Nathan stood on the edge of the circle, while Gareth and Beth stood on the far side of the room. The stout Champion kept her shield raised, ready to dart in front of her Bastion at a moment’s notice.

Over the coming minute, Nathan poured ascended magic into the circle. The light emanating from the crystals grew and slowly turned green. It concentrated in the catalysts, turning them an almost sickly green that shined bright enough to make him wince if he looked at them. They burned out within seconds, turning into shriveled black husks or evaporating into nothingness.

Magic coalesced in the beaker, and so did the green light. When Nathan finished the ritual, it glowed bright enough to illuminate the entire chamber. By the time he reached it, the glow faded almost entirely.

Maybe a pint of crystal clear green liquid swirled around in the beaker. Nathan felt the magic within it, but it remained fragile.

“The lightshow never gets less uncomfortable,” Gareth said, leaning on his staff. He kept his distance from the beaker, as if afraid it might make him impotent. “I’ve learned more about life magic than I planned to over the past few years, and most of that has confirmed why the Lodges strongly discourage even reading about it.”

“You say that as if the Lodges even acknowledge ascended magic,” Nathan said drily.

“They certainly do now, at least in the halls of power.” Gareth shrugged at his look. “Even disregarding you, as everybody knows you’re special, I’m a human that can use ascended magic. The fact gateways and several of Omria’s inventions have been confirmed to rely on ascended magic broke the floodgates. A lot of sorcerers are studying ascended magic in hopes of becoming the pioneers of a new world of magic—for humans, that is.”

A frown crossed Nathan’s face. He spent less time with sorcerers than he probably should.

Since Sofia’s defeat, the Lodges of Falmir, Trafaumh, and the Empire had maintained their independence. The War of Descension, as the period where Sofia and Fyre had battled for supremacy and legitimacy was now called, had nearly brought the Lodges beneath the governments of their respective nations. As a result, they’d withdrawn heavily from national affairs, preferring to work through nobles and proxies to further their research.

“When did this start happening?” he asked.

“Pretty much the moment Sofia died,” Gareth said. “Truthfully, it’s a slow process. The Lodges were shaken by the wars and wanted to go back to the status quo.”

“There’s no going back.”

A wry smile crossed Gareth’s face. “Tell that to the old fogeys. They eventually understood, especially as the nobles funding them kept banging on their doors to request improvements or sought out mages who could use the same magic as you or me. Money talks, as it always has.”

Nathan shook his head. Then he turned his attention back to the beaker in his hand.

The magic remained in place inside the liquid. He swirled it with a finger, expecting the worst.

Nothing happened, save for some splashing noises. No great shattering of glass or an explosion of prismatic light like the last several attempts.

“Well, shit. You think you’ve done it?” Gareth asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I’ll need to find a way to test it properly. Life magic is… complicated,” Nathan said. “Most of what I do with it is create things that can easily exist. An apple is an apple. Beer is beer. But using magic means extra things get added – like my emotions, which I try to remove to create a ‘pure’ foodstuff.”

“Except now you want the magic, and not the object. You’re trying to distill the essence of life magic, because you’re not trying to create something, but make it last longer.”

Nathan nodded.

This beaker contained the first successful attempt to create the solution to the thorniest of Nathan’s problems: an extension to natural life.

Or, put in layman’s terms, an immortality serum.

He might be ageless and effectively unable to die, and the same went for many of his Champions. But his wives, Alice and Anna? His children with them? Even Gareth and his Champions would live far shorter lives, as Bastions didn’t necessarily live forever.

Tarako might be ageless, but she also had a Champion gem from a being similar to the outer beings that tried to consume Doumahr.

The door to the chamber opened, and Ciana tentatively poked her head in. She wore her Royal Champion’s uniform, although with less armor than she had during the war. Her two diamonds and single alexandrite glittered in her collarbone. Spotting Nathan standing in the middle of the magic circle, she stepped inside.

“It’s lunchtime,” she said primly.

Nathan grimaced and handed the beaker to Gareth, who chuckled.

“I’ll leave you to poke at the serum,” Nathan said.

“I’ll see what I can find out. Although if the spell breaks—”

“It means we need to refine this attempt a little further.”

A nod. Gareth was the true researcher here, so Nathan left a lot of the process to him. Sure, Nathan had learned a lot about doing magical research in the past few years, but that merely meant he could help instead of stand around gawking.

He slid a hand around Ciana. His ever-loyal bodyguard hadn’t changed at all over the past six years, even after childbirth. She still wore her platinum-blonde hair in a ponytail and her iridescent horn shined as brightly as always.

“How’s Eris doing? I expected to see her peeking in with you,” he asked.

“Eating lunch,” Ciana said. “If you’re not quick, she’ll wolf it down so she can play bodyguard for Daddy.”

He scowled. Ciana was right, but didn’t need to tease him about it.

They strode out of the room, leaving Gareth and Beth to clean up and handle the beaker of immortality. A flight of spiral stairs stood between them and the dining room set aside for their use.

Aside from a handful of guards, servants, and one of Gareth’s Champions, the tower was empty, so they wouldn’t encounter anyone else. Hence the clattering noises they heard could only mean one thing.

“How long ago did you give her lunch?” Nathan mused.

Ciana sighed.

They barely made it to the bottom of the stairs before a tiny bundle of energy barreled toward them. A little horse beastkin girl wearing a Royal Champion’s uniform—a real one, even if she wasn’t an official Champion—snapped off a salute to Nathan.

“Reporting for duty, Papa,” Eris chirped, blue eyes practically glowing as she stared up at her father.

Nathan’s daughter had glossy shoulder-length black hair and was tall for her age, but still only six years old. A tiny horn maybe two inches long protruded from her forehead, and dark horse ears flapped on her head. A fine black horse’s tail swayed behind her at nearly supersonic speeds

Curiously, small black wings rustled on her hips. The story behind those was long, complicated, and was the reason Eris had become the focus of the cult of Nathan, which he steadfastly ignored.

“At ease,” Nathan said. “Did you eat all your food?”

Eris bit her lip, then nodded her head.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to check your plate, soldier,” he said.

Pouting, Eris stepped up to him and tugged on his jacket. “But Papa, there were these bitter leaf ball things that I never get given at home. Mama said they’re normal here but they tasted like shit and—”

Ciana’s hand shot out and bonked Eris on the head, causing the small girl to place her hands on her head. She barely reacted otherwise, although Ciana’s diamond flashed.

Unsurprisingly, given Eris was made of stone. Ciana relied on her diamonds to survive heavy impacts. Her daughter was made of sterner stuff. If Nathan had ever dropped Eris as a baby, she’d have shattered the stonework.

“Language,” Ciana chided.

“But Auntie Maura says—”

Ciana glared at her daughter, and Eris cowered.

“You can talk like Auntie Maura when you’re older,” Ciana said.

A long pause. “How much older?”

“When you’re—”

Nathan coughed into his fist. “Let’s talk about that when you’re older.”

“Papa!”

He was being unfair, but life as a child was about dealing with unfair adults. Eris might not even be the most troublesome of his children, although she was definitely the most unique.

His hands slid around her shoulders and he forced her to about face. As he guided her back to the dining room, Eris marched along, each step rising an absurdly large amount as she imitated the parade walk the Royal Knights used in the palace for ceremonies. Her wings fluttered around her with each step.

Inside the dining room, Nathan found the offenders.

“Ah, brussels sprouts. I never ate these when I was young, either,” he mused, causing Ciana to shoot him a torn look. She was caught between frustration over his loose words around Eris, but interested in his behavior as a child. “Veronica always told me that eating them improved magical ability.”

Eris’s horse ears shot bolt upright. “They do?”

“Absolutely,” he said, meeting his daughter’s all-too-earnest gaze. “Magic flows through the ground and into all plants, where vegetables come from. The more you eat, the more magic you absorb.”

This was true of all life, naturally. Animals ate plants and each other, so it wasn’t like magic was locked away in bitter little lumps to torture small children that liked eating fried chicken and sausages for every meal with large dollops of gravy.

But, again, life as a child was about dealing with unfair adults.

Eris picked up a fork and tentatively prodded one of the halved brussels sprouts. It was fresh and frightfully green, but not exactly Nathan’s favorite vegetable. The servant appeared to have boiled them, although they were at least salted. He’d eaten them like this a lot, as it was the preferred way to serve them in a lot of Falmir.

When he’d grown up and could make food his preferred way, he typically roasted or fried the damn things over an open fire. He doubted Eris would enjoy them, but the char made them taste nice.

As Eris’s fork wavered near her mouth, her eyes watered at the idea of eating the sprout. Nathan sighed and took it off her. He took a bite and nodded.

“Tastes like childhood,” he admitted. “Gareth’s old, so I imagine he prefers them like this.”

Ciana frowned at him, then took a bite herself. She grimaced and Eris burst out laughing at her mother, finger pointed at her and everything.

“Your face, Mama!” Eris giggled. “Papa, can we have these at the palace tonight? I want to see everyone else eat them.”

Oh no.

Only for Ciana to roll her eyes. “These are brussels sprouts, Eris. They were really popular in the Empire centuries ago, when they were discovered in Falmir and cultivated far and wide.”

Eris furrowed her brow, deep in focus as she nodded and tried to follow her mother’s lecture. At her age, Nathan suspected a lot of went over her head, but she tried.

“Then why haven’t I eaten them before?” she asked.

“They grow best in cold regions that don’t get too cold,” Ciana explained. “Winter is too cold in the Empire and Trafaumh, which is when sprouts are usually grown, so they stick to winter wheat.”

Nathan nodded. “The winds off the ocean keep things warmer here. The food everyone eats varies for lots of reasons, Eris. Although I suspect the palace knows a way to make them taste good.”

“I doubt it,” Eris mumbled, glaring at the bitter balls that were taunting her with improved magical ability.

He ruffled her hair and her wings flapped excitedly.

While Eris poked and prodded at the sprouts, glower marring her adorable face, Nathan and Ciana stepped to one side.

“Are you finished here today? It sounded like the ritual was a success for once,” Ciana said.

He nodded. “A success for now. It’s too early to say for sure, especially without any tests. This isn’t like a spell I can just cast and go ‘all done,’ like it’s been in the past as a Bastion. Everything I’ve done with gems has been simple compared to this. I’ve always had solid footing to work with, but now I’m trying to create something even Kadria shrugged at.”

When the problem of Alice and Anna’s aging came up, he’d done the smart thing. Go straight to the immortal succubi who appeared to understand how the very gears of reality operated.

All three of them had scratched their heads and given him some variation of “the outer beings handled that.”

Kadria had, admittedly, been more explicit. “Changing the state of another being is explicitly the role of outer beings. Sofia became a goddess because she used her power to change Doumahr and develop a system to allow Bastions to do that with Champions. I’m half-convinced the main reason Champions never lived forever is that Bastions died before them. I can use life magic, but my old boss is the one turning Messengers into monsters. It’s a long step to take.”

“Monster” wasn’t what he wanted to accomplish with his serum, but he understand the succubus’s point. Making a human live forever meant they ceased to be human. Every Bastion and Champion innately understand that fact, as Champions ceased to be humans once they became one and the magic transformed their bodies.

Ciana placed a hand against his cheek, pulling him from his thoughts. “That’s more of a success than you’ve had over the past few years. I worried you’d turn into the old Nathan trying to pursue this.”

He smiled at her and grasped her hand. “While it’s important, it’s also a nice distraction. There’s a lot less to do these days.”

“How much do you have waiting for you at the palace?”

“Uh, if you ignore the Diet—”

“Should I tell Alice that?” Ciana smiled brightly.

“No,” he said flatly. “Alice wants me to help with the spring Diet, or at least make an appearance. Lotte and Kara need to talk to me about some big plan to redevelop a large stretch of land along their borders still recovering from the civil war. Darman, the Arcadian ambassador, wants to organize a tour of Arcadia and the Free Territories some time this year.”

A grimace crossed the unicorn knight’s face when he mentioned that. The Free Territories was what had become of the Den and the vast swathes of land above Arcadia when it split off to become a separate beastkin nation. But while it had an immense population, it failed to truly form a consensus or any hopes of a central government.

For now, everyone left them alone. They’d earned their freedom the hard way, and something or someone would rise from the turmoil. Nathan kept an ear to the ground to make sure that whatever that was didn’t turn out to be trouble.

“So you’re still very busy,” Ciana said.

“If everyone feels they can whisk me off to random rooms for…” He saw Eris looking at them and cleared his throat. “Distract me, and I spend most of my time being a father, I don’t think I’m that busy. I’m not up until midnight planning for wars.”

“Staying up until midnight is bad for you, Papa,” Eris chirped.

“That it is,” he said. “Why don’t we head back to the palace?”

She darted over to him, then her eyes widened as she remembered she was supposed to be his “bodyguard.” Standing beside him with a stern look, she gripped an invisible sword on her waist and pretended to look for danger.

They teleported to Aleich’s Imperial Palace using the gateway in the tower. Several onyx automatons greeted them when they walked into the palace’s new portal room, and a thick vault door stood beyond a glowing golden barrier. Each automaton carried a runic blade capable of spatial slashes, and runes shimmered on the black stone of their bodies. Tails formed of delicate wolf fur stood stiff behind their bodies, each full of magic.

After an initial reaction, the automatons saluted, then returned to being statues. Ciana allowed the tension to leave her body and let go of her sword hilt. Eris clapped happily at what she felt to be a show.

The risks to Doumahr as a whole were far lower than they used to be, but Nathan had vastly increased the security for himself and those closest to him as he improved his magic. Messengers still arrived rarely. With Omria still active through Fyre, invasions remained active. The military couldn’t stand down.

More than that, he never knew when his true enemy might attempt to assassinate him or claim him, much as it had tried through Sofia. Perhaps the entire thing had been a ploy to take Sofia back, but Nathan held no illusions that the outer being would have taken Nathan as well.

Hence the portal room not only contained all gateways leading into the palace, but also redirected all teleportation here. The wards would contain intruders while the powerful automatons used spatial and elemental magic to destroy them. As he didn’t need to spread himself thin across a hundred portals, he could make the defenses here immensely powerful.

Eris marched alongside him and Ciana through the halls of the palace. Servants and knights greeted them as they walked. With the Diet in session, the halls were extra busy.

Not that they weren’t busy on an ordinary day. Nathan had expanded the palace too many times to count by now, and split it into multiple wings. Perhaps it had been used to handle the Imperial family in the past, but not Nathan’s family. He had over a dozen close Champions, numerous children, two wives, and plenty of guests. And some of his Champions came with their own entourages.

Tarako’s clan had set up shop once she got pregnant and never left. As far as they were concerned, they were raising future clan chiefs. Nathan didn’t disabuse them of this notion.

He needed all the help he needed with those terrible twins. He’d never thought of what it would be like to raise a toddler with the power to use spatial magic, let alone two of them.

Nathan’s main priority today was to see if any of the Diet business actually needed his attention. Years of peace meant the Diet spent most of its time arguing, so he’d find Kara or Anna and ask what was on the agenda. Preferably while the Diet was taking on of its usual breaks.

Fyre ambushed them before they got close to the palace’s grand hall. No doubt she sensed their arrival.

“Mama Fyre,” Eris said, holding her arms out.

Fyre’s own wings flared out as she picked up Eris, causing the young girl to squawk and squirm. She’d wanted a hug, not to be cradled. Laughing, Fyre set Eris down.

“Are you guarding Papa?” Fyre asked, red eyes bright as she crouched down.

“I’m keeping him safe.” Eris nodded rapidly.

Fyre tapped Eris on the nose. “Good. You need to remember that he has lots of enemies, and only we can keep him safe from them.”

“Don’t give her the wrong idea,” Nathan said, exasperated.

The reason Eris followed him everywhere, and sometimes crept into his room at awkward times during the night, was because of the terrible influence of her “mothers.” Which was a confusing fact by itself.

Eris was definitely Ciana’s and Nathan’s daughter, but Fyre had involved herself as well for one very particular reason.

When Nathan had first begun knocking up his many Champions, they’d begun splitting into two camps: those interested in having kids, and those not. Fyre had been in the former.

Only to find out she had a problem, similar to the one the Twins and Artemis suffered from. Becoming Omria changed her body completely at a basic level.  The Twins were inhuman beings who needed to develop magic to make them compatible with Nathan, while Artemis was fundamentally undead and therefore incapable of reproduction.

Fyre, though, couldn’t get pregnant because her body rejected the idea. Everything functioned. They’d even used magic to check everything worked.

Kadria shed light on the subject with a theory and her knowledge of Sofia. “Sofia never wanted children. Hated the idea as much as she liked being fucked into the next century. I can see her fundamentally altering the concept of ‘being Omria’ to prevent pregnancy, so she wouldn’t need to worry about the idea. Otherwise, there’d be a Messenger with the power to knock women up by pointing at them and they’d have won by default.”

After getting over the initial disappointment—as much as Fyre could, at any rate—the solution was obvious. Fyre lived vicariously through Ciana’s child, as the two were as close as anyone in Nathan’s circle. To help matters along, Fyre injected her power into Ciana into the pregnancy.

Hence the wings, and likely Eris’s abnormally strong physically constitution. Eris effectively had two mothers in some strange way.

To the public, and especially anyone in the Imperial Palace, Eris appeared to be a demigodly child born from Nathan. Her wings and power “proved” he was a new god, and he’d begun rapidly gathering followers. Or, more accurately, allowing them to emerge from the shadows. Fyre probably helped them, given her own proclivities.

“It’s the truth,” Fyre said, smiling up at him. “Would a goddess lie?”

“Yes,” he and Ciana said without hesitation.

Eris looked between her two mothers, but was used to this. She shifted to stand next to Nathan.

A nearby door opened and a busty catgirl stepped out, providing a healthy distraction.

Artemis glanced over and blinked at them. She mimed walking back inside the room, eliciting a scowl from Ciana.

“Do I want to get involved here?” Artemis asked. “I need to check on Ayla and Lyse.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Is Fei busy?”

“Kara dragged her into the Diet today. Something needs every vote, and Fei doesn’t get offered a proxy vote by virtue of protecting the Empire anymore.”

Ah, yes. Countess Fei von Kuste. A truly rare sight.

“Is she wearing a dress?” Ciana asked.

Fyre smirked. “Yes. She glared at me when I snuck out.”

“Of course she did. You’re the goddess and are supposed to certify all laws they pass,” Nathan said drily.

“Oh, please. The Empire managed to run without me for a few centuries.” Fyre paused, then shrugged. “They’re lucky I still show up to open the sessions.”

Eris waved her hands at Artemis. “Auntie Arty, is Papa in danger from lots of enemies? Do we always need to protect him?”

“Absolutely,” Artemis said without hesitation. “When you grow up, you’ll protect him just like us.”

Nathan held back a groan.

They were all like this. Would all his children grow up thinking they needed to be his newest generation of warriors?

“I’ll come with you,” he told Artemis. “If Fei’s busy, it means the Diet’s still in session.”

“Avoiding the votes, huh?” The catgirl shot him a sly look. “I think the only important thing for you are the visitors. I overheard Alice mentioned that King Maxwell is coming, and it caused Otto to ask if he should invite his son to the Diet.”

Curious. That could mean several things. Maxwell hadn’t made an appearance at the Diet itself, even if he showed up once a year to reaffirm the alliance he’d formed with the Empire.

He’d asked Alice later.

The group made their way to the children’s wing. Eris kept up her marching routine the whole way, even though it slowed them down. While Ciana and Fyre fawned over her, Nathan couldn’t read Artemis. The kitty kept a tight grip on him instead.

“Ciana, I think it might be a good time for Eris to return to her studies for the afternoon,” he said, ignoring the loud whining of his daughter. “She’s had a very exciting morning, but if she wants to be a powerful sorceress and warrior, she needs practice.”

Even the usual taunt didn’t quiet Eris. She pouted even as Ciana dragged her off.

Fyre leaned her chin on one hand as she watched them go. “I can never read you, Artemis. Sometimes you treat the kids like a ball of yarn, other times you’re a jittery mess.”

“I’m not jittery,” Artemis said coldly.

Fyre’s eyes didn’t leave Eris’s back. “Is there something about Eris that bothers you?”

A long silence resulted. This was far from the first time the two women had traded barbs.

Artemis sighed and her tail curled around Nathan’s leg. “I don’t do well with kids, let alone those injected with otherworldly power. It’s a me thing.”

Fyre bit her lip. “I… think I understand it better than I’d like to admit.” Her eyes glazed over and when Nathan looked into them, they appeared to be gazing a thousand miles into the distance.

Or, perhaps, a thousand realities.

Something to bring up at another time.

He rubbed Artemis’s shoulder and pulled her against him, ignoring her hiss. “It’s fine to be uncomfortable, and I’m proud that you push past it despite everything. You do so much to help Fei.”

Artemis looked away and played with the golden ribbon tied to one side of her hair. She’d changed in appearance ever-so-slightly over the past few years. Her powers and undead nature meant she couldn’t permanently change, but she’d found ways to make it easier to tell her apart from Fei.

The two women looked literally identical, save for Fei’s slightly larger cup size and increased curviness. Both had expected Fei to gain more curves after two pregnancies, but being a Champion meant she bounced back to her old form just as swiftly as Artemis did after she lost her head.

So Artemis took matters into her own hands. The ribbon helped, but she also adjusted her hairstyle to make her hair curlier than Fei’s, focusing more on hair care. A single thick lock of her bangs was also dyed crimson red. The color changed on a whim, as the dye rarely lasted.

The three of them finished their trek through the palace. Artemis undid a magically locked door and entered a large play room full of toys. This particular room had seen several children go through it, and many of the toys had seen better days. Especially after Eris and the older sister of the twins inside had their way with them.

Two small catgirls looked up from where they played with wooden blocks in the center of the room. Nathan guessed they were building a city of some sort, although it lacked any real structure. Pretty good for a pair of three-year-olds.

Their faces lit up when they saw Artemis. “Ma—”

They paused, catching the ribbon and dyed lock of hair. If adults couldn’t tell Artemis and Fei apart, three-year-olds struggled. They’d reacted on instinct.

“Mama Arty!” they shouted after a moment, shooting to their feet and barreling across the room.

“Yes, yes,” Artemis said, smiling despite her tone.

She kneeled down and scooped both girls up, cradling them in an arm each. They giggled and leaned against the alternative universe version of their mother. Artemis pressed her lips against both of their foreheads.

Fyre smirked in the background, hand on her chin.

“How are my favorite girls doing?” he asked.

His youngest daughters with Fei, Ayla and Lyse, looked up at him with wide eyes.

“You say that to everyone,” Artemis said.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Bad Papa,” Ayla said, then giggled. Lyse copied her.

“No, I’m a good papa,” he corrected them.

“No, bad Papa. Mama Arty says so, and so does Mama,” Lyse said.

He looked at Artemis, who merely smiled. The cat had truly eaten the canary, and didn’t give a damn that he knew.

A sigh escaped him. He reached out and stroked the cheeks of his daughters.

Artemis kept the twins company for a few minutes, and listened to them chirp about the block city they’d made. A few servants wandered in, and one brought food.

Wincing, Nathan realized he’d forgotten the reason Ciana had entered the chamber back in Gareth’s chamber to begin with. Fyre caught his expression.

“Forgotten something?” the goddess asked.

“I skipped lunch,” he admitted. “I guarantee Eris noticed, too. Ciana will chew me out when she comes back.”

Fyre snorted. “You mean she’ll tell you to set a better example. Ciana never says mean things to you outside the bedroom.”

Nathan shot her a look, and pointedly glanced at the toddlers. Fyre rolled her eyes.

“They’re three,” she said.

A wooden block soared across the room. Fyre’s hand snapped up and caught it. She and Artemis traded glares.

“I think somebody agrees with me,” Nathan said.

Fyre ran a hand down her face. “I adore all the tykes, but…”

“But?”

“I think I know why the Twins take vacations now. They used to never want to leave you alone, and now they have a holiday home. Needing to self-censor drives me a bit crazy.”

“You say that, but the Twins also can’t wait for everyone to grow up so they can teach them all the naughty things,” Nathan said drily.

That was, almost word for word, what Maura and Laura had told him once before. He doubted his daughters would need him to teach them about the birds and the bees, and instead wondered if he’d need to set boundaries to prevent them from being corrupted by the sex demons in their orbit.

Especially as all the crazy fetishes Maura and Laura indulged in became more concerning once he had his own children to worry about.

With the amount of children piling up—not to mention a village best not talked about occupied by his former Royal Knights—he needed to educate, rather than control, and hope for the best. Well, he could control the Twins. They loved that.

“Do you have any plans after lunch?” Fyre asked, shooting him a wicked smile. “Today’s been soooo boring.” Her hand ran down his chest.

“I can make some time,” he said. “But I’ll definitely need to eat in that case.”

“I can wait a little longer. Especially if it gets me out of the path of all the nobles when they escape the Diet.”

He’d have to leave any plans for the Diet until later, although he might be able to catch Alice later tonight.

Artemis’s ears twitched, and she gave the kids a couple of quick kisses. Nathan took the hint and joined in. He’d missed the long story about the city, and his daughters didn’t feel like repeating it. But they still pointed out the “landmarks.” Apparently he had his own palace in their city, separate from the normal palace.

Was that how they saw things? Amusing. He didn’t miss the looks the servants threw at him.

“If you’re eating, then I’m joining,” Artemis said. “I planned to joined Ayla and Lyse, but they’re not exactly the most exciting conversation partners and I can come back. They’re deep in their own world, anyway. As always.”

“They got Nathan’s brains, while Raissa got Fei’s stomach.” Fyre grinned.

He sighed. “Don’t be mean. She also got her excitability.”

Raissa was his oldest daughter, technically. Of all his Champions and wives, Fei had given birth first, making Raissa the oldest by roughly a day over Kara’s daughter, Lin, and weeks compared to Eris.

Speaking of Raissa, she should be eating lunch around now. Like her mother, she had a schedule meal time and a dedicated team of cooks. Although they were just the same as Fei’s team. Raissa didn’t eat anywhere near as much as Fei, even if she ate adult portions at six years of age.

Nathan used his control over the palace to check on the dining halls. He sensed the life force and magic of hundreds of people within the building, but filtered it out. His wards and alarms would detect anything awry.

Raissa sat inside her usual dining hall. That settled it.

“Why don’t we join Raissa for lunch? She’d appreciate the company,” he said.

The hall was no different to any other, save for being located in the Champion’s wing. Nathan’s closest Champions and staff worked and lived here, and it bordered both the children’s wing and the corner set aside for his personal bedroom. There wasn’t really a wing for the Imperial family anymore, as he and those closest to him stretched across multiple wings.

Raissa sat inside with a large platter of food. The chefs ensured she had plenty of food each day, although they served her a much smaller dinner in the evening. Raissa practically ran laps around the city and needed the energy, but still had to sleep.

Unlike Eris, and like her mother, Raissa ate a varied diet. Grilled fish, sautéed vegetables with a thin sauce, crumbed chicken, and a side of mashed potato. Fei would inhale the plate and wonder why the starter was so small, but for the growing child, this was more than enough.

“Are you practicing magic this morning, Raissa?” Nathan asked as he slid onto the bench opposite his daughter. “You’re eating more today.”

“Pmhphm!” Raissa spluttered, trying to speak with her mouth full of food.

Artemis covered her mouth with a napkin and frowned. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Raissa swallowed and looked up at Artemis. “Yes, Mama.”

“I’m not your mother.”

“Yes, Mama.” Raissa smirked.

Rolling her eyes, Artemis strode over to the kitchen attached to the dining hall. “I’ll let them know we’re here.”

As if she needed to. Nathan could hear the staff shouting orders to each other. But Artemis would order something for him and prevent them from making him five different dishes and asking him to pick one. Although he suspected the cooks just ate the other four.

Raissa smiled at Nathan. He’d never seen Fei when she was a child, but if he had, he suspected she’d look like Raissa. Adorable, very small, oddly skinny for a girl who ate her body weight in food each day, and always in search of praise.

Instinctively, he reached out and ruffled her black hair. It was long for her age, falling to her shoulder blades, and had natural curls that were closer to the ones Artemis actively cultivated. He assumed they came from his side of the family. Her cat’s tail danced behind her in response.

“Auntie Sen is making me cast empty spell frames over and over today,” Raissa said. “She said it will help me focus my magic, as…” She screwed up her face. “Um, apparently I’m bad at it.”

“All beastkin are bad at magic,” Fyre said settling in next to Raissa. “Or at least, the sort of complicated magic sorcerers use. Most are limited to simple battle magic. But with training you can learn more, especially with Nathan as your father.”

Raissa nodded. “But I can just get a gem from Papa, right? Like my Mamas?”

Artemis looked back from where she leaned through the window to the kitchen, but said nothing.

Nathan steepled his hands and leaned on them. Raissa bit her lip, and he immediately relaxed his posture.

“You’re right,” he said. “But anyone can use a gem, even if training and willpower makes them stronger. Magic is something special that requires you to put special effort into it, or else you won’t get anything out. I spent my life learning it, and I still have a long way to go. And you have aunts who have spent centuries doing the same.”

Nodding, Raissa remained quiet. “Um, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” When she said nothing, he poked her in the forehead. “Magic training was boring when I was your age.”

Although he also didn’t remember enjoying the physical training. Raissa’s teachers were considerably less harsh than Lily, and left fewer bruises. Although Lily hadn’t started training him in earnest until he was a few years older, she still made him do basic physical exercises.

To be the scion of a noble required one to dedicate themself to growth. Education, physical training, magical achievement. As the son of a powerful Bastion and earl, he’d been spared nothing.

Most of his Champions came from humbler origins and questioned the strict regimen of his children, only to run up against the upbringings of Anna, Alice, Seraph, and Narime. Even Tarako had grown up in a rather strict manner, if for different reasons.

What he did take to heart was that he needed to give his kids time to themselves, and to him. So Eris got to play bodyguard, and Raissa could focus on physical exercise some days. Her birthday this year had involved running around a forest for a few days while Nathan taught her how to hunt—with a small army ensuring nobody intervened, including any errant Messengers.

Raissa nodded happily, and resumed eating. “’hank ‘ou.”

Before he could say anything, Fyre tapped her atop the head. Raissa winced and swallowed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

Their meals came out shortly, but Nathan became distracted by a new arrival. Torneus entered wearing his usual garb, and looking as old and weathered as always. He carried a thick book and some scrolls.

Raissa had already finished her lunch and moved to sit next to Nathan, kicking her legs back and forth while her tail danced along his back. When he stood to join Torneus, she stood and followed him.

“I didn’t realize you were in Aleich,” Nathan said as he held out his hand.

Torneus chuckled and gave Nathan a stiff handshake. “I try not to make my presence known. But Anna asked me to come when she received word this morning that King Maxwell would visit. One never knows what schemes will emerge from the nobility when confronted with an opportunity.”

“An assassination?”

Raissa gasped.

“Hardly something so exciting. You needn’t worry, young Raissa. The time when anyone would try something so evil in front of your father has long passed,” Torneus said, before turning back to Nathan. He gestured to a spare table and they sat. “No, the worry is more political. When Maxwell took the throne, few thought he’d last a month. Now?”

“His position is weaker than any monarch before him, thanks to Martel’s royal council. Yet he’s unified Falmir and played both Martel and the Empire against each other to remain in control,” Nathan said.

Torneus chuckled. “An exemplary answer. One I’d expect your children to repeat to me in several years when I ask them about history.”

Raissa’s face reddened. “I… I could tell you that now.”

“What does the Falmir royal council do?” Torneus raised an eyebrow at Raissa.

“Um… they’re the… council of royals who—”

Nathan ruffled his daughter’s hair harder than usual, and she squawked at him. Her tail tried to lash his back, but was far too small and weak to do so.

“You’ll understand properly when you’re older,” Torneus said. When Raissa puffed out her cheeks, the old man tapped the side of his head. “it’s not because we won’t tell you, but because you need to train your mind, as well as your body. You’re six. I’m over sixty. Every year is another you can use to improve yourself.”

Still pouting, Raissa nodded. She stared at the table.

Rubbing her back, Nathan gestured for Torneus to continue.

“In truth, we all know the balance of power is fragile in Falmir. If he’s visited the Diet in person, it’s likely because he wants to tip it himself,” Torneus said. “And there are many nobles who want to affect the Empire in turn. There are… rumblings of late.”

“Rumblings?” Nathan asked.

A sigh. The old man rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Old men notice things quicker than young ones. To you, six years feels like both a long time, but also not that long. Little changes for you. But at my age, you understand how much should change.” His eyes pierced Nathan.

Instantly, he understood. “People are noticing that I don’t age, and worrying about it.”

“Yes.” Torneus nodded. “Champions don’t age, or if they do, it happens very slowly. But Bastions? Leopold aged alongside Gorthal. His magic meant he remained an immensely dangerous warrior, but he grew old. The nobility have expectations for Bastions. You’re approaching forty, and should be showing signs of middle age. But you remain in the peak of health and appearance.”

An explosive breath left Nathan’s mouth.

He’d known this would happen sooner or later. Hell, developing a serum to let Alice and Anna live forever would cause a lot of turmoil, and require Alice to step down voluntarily if they didn’t want to rule the Empire forever.

But in just six years, before he’d had a chance to form a true foothold?

Torneus raised his hands, palms outward. “There’s nothing to worry about. Yet. There’s a long gap between it being noticed and anyone acting on it, other than the few who truly dislike you. You hold a reputation on par with Fyre and Omria, leaving you unimpeachable. But it means nobles will begin to maneuver with the knowledge that you’ll be here more or less permanently. You should expect that the most astute of them—namely, Maxwell himself—are well aware.”

“Thank you for the heads up,” Nathan said.

Later that night, after he’d left Raissa to continue her training with Sen, seen off Artemis, and enjoyed his afternoon with Fyre, he sat on the foot of his bed. A glass of brandy and ice was in his hand as the moonlight streamed in.

Any minute now, Ciana or one of his other Champions would enter. Fyre had left nearly thirty minutes ago and the Diet had ended.

He stared at the inky black door hidden in a corner of the room, inviting him to explore it. A red emblem blazed on it.

Unlike the doors to his mental world, one of which was inside Alice’s adjoining bedroom, he’d never gone through this door. It didn’t belong to him.

It almost certainly belonged to the outer being that had tried to destroy this world. The emblem had appeared on the dominions he sent to defeat Nathan, and they were his most loyal Messengers.

For six years, the door had stood here, unchanging and unmoving.

The door was there for a reason. Maybe it was a standing offer, should everything fall apart.

But he also wondered if it was an invitation for them to meet. He’d spoken with Fate, the partner to the outer being, and he had been very interested in meeting Nathan. Fate’s words suggested Nathan had been ascended to become an outer being himself, and that Fate had been uplifted into being one on purpose.

Tonight, Nathan’s thoughts on the door remained nothing more than idle time-wasting. When Alice stepped through the door from her adjoining bedroom, she turned the lights on with a frown.

He turned to face her. “Sorry. Just thinking. I take it we need to talk about Maxwell?”

- - - - -

This will be a three part epilogue (hopefully), interspersed between the commentary and the resumption of Mob 4 chapters.

For the most part, this lets you get a glimpse into life after the end of the series. It's not mandatory, although there's one particular part that will hopefully add some stuff. Otherwise it's mostly just some fun fluff.