PftA Book 4 - Chapter 45 - Demigods of the Alliance

“I still don’t know why I was invited to something like this,” I whispered as I looked around the opulent hall. Everything I could see was made from Tier Ten materials, making each piece of furniture worth more than entire mid-tier worlds.

“You are a powerful individual with more sway than you think,” Kai responded with equally measured tones. “Soon, you will be a Pinnacle yourself. I can understand the Council’s desire to form a positive relationship.”

While I understood his point, I still felt out of place among the ruling elite of the Alliance. What place did a relatively young dungeon challenger from a previously mundane world have among demigod royalty?

Sure, they weren’t actual demigods, but they might as well be as far as anyone below Tier Ten was concerned. In fact, I was quite sure that most of the so-called gods from Earth’s mythology were far less powerful than even the weakest individuals at the event – myself included.

That was a really strange realization to have.

I glanced at my pseudo-date.

As a Pinnacle, Kai had received his own invitation to the ball. Thankfully, he agreed to accompany me. I didn’t really know anyone else to invite since the minimum tier to attend was Tier Eight.

It seemed a bit elitist of the Council to set the limit so high, but Kai had informed me that it was merely a safety precaution since all of the refreshments were Tier Ten and could be unsafe for anyone weaker to consume.

Even the food was worth more than some worlds.

“You’ll notice most of the attendees are influential in one way or another,” Kai continued, motioning toward the crowd.

I recognized several individuals from my limited exposure to the Alliance’s media, including a few well-known royals. Based on the regalia worn, I could only assume there were several other royals and high-level nobles present.

I also noted a few sect leaders wearing fancy robes, though they were in the minority.

“Why aren’t more sects represented?” I asked.

“Aside from a few exceptions,” he said, motioning toward me, “only those who have reached Tier Ten receive an invitation to one of the Council’s rare social events.”

“And not a lot of sects have active Tier Ten members?” I guessed.

Kai smiled. “Exactly. To be fair, most royals aren’t Tier Ten either. They tend to abdicate before they reach that level.”

“So, why are so many royals present?”

“They are the other exception,” Kai answered. “It would be disrespectful of the Council to ignore the Kings and Queens who rule under them.”

The Alliance was basically set up as an Empire, except instead of having a single leader, the Emperor’s seat was held by the Council.

“And the two territories run by sects?” I asked.

Kai shrugged. “They don’t have centralized leadership, so they get no seat at the table, so to speak. At least, not for things like this. There are probably a few representatives present, but none are over Low-Tier Nine since the strongest worlds within sect-ruled territories are at the peak of Tier Eight.”

“Why not subjugate one of the uninhabited Tier Nine worlds that the Adventurers’ Guild has surveyed? Surely, the sects could band together for something like that.”

“Ah, you forget that there is already a shortage of high-tier adventurers. We already struggle to maintain the Tier Nine worlds we already have. It is unlikely the Alliance will seek to add another anytime soon.”

He was right. I had forgotten. The lack of high-level adventurers was also why I was required to delve at some point during my vacation. It wasn’t something I planned to do anytime soon, though.

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of an older elf in a heavily enchanted suit that borrowed from the style of traditional cultivator robes. The elf wasn’t quite as old as Sir Eri’Non had been, but he didn’t appear to be very far off.

The elf was also familiar. I remembered seeing him the last time I appeared before the Council.

“Mage Momentia, Mage Kairos, it’s so good of you both to make it to our little gathering,” the elf said with a wide smile. Turning to me, the elf said, “In case you’ve forgotten after your ordeal, I am Arbiter Eskin – no surname. We give those up when we accept a seat on the Council.”

I hadn’t immediately recalled the elf’s name, but Lisa had been quick to fill me in. She never forgot anything.

I bowed. Kai merely inclined his head in greeting.

“I was not aware of that fact,” I said. “Thank you for the invitation. The castle and grounds are breathtaking.”

Arbiter Eskin’s grin stretched a bit wider. I could tell he took some measure of personal pride in my complement. The grounds must be something he oversaw personally.

“I’m very pleased to hear you think so. Have you tried the food? I’ve heard you have a particular fondness for quality cuisine.”

I felt myself blushing slightly at the comment.

“Not yet,” I admitted. “I plan to try a variety soon, though.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something you enjoy,” Arbiter Eskin said. “I am curious about your thoughts on the Alliance. As someone who grew up on a mundane world, I suspect your perception of how we do things is quite different from most who grew up in the Alliance.”

He wasn’t wrong. My early years had certainly influenced my thoughts on the Alliance and how the society was organized.

“I’m not sure how much you know about how Earth was governed before being reintegrated…” I said leadingly.

The elf’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I know quite a bit about that topic! The colonies’ development is one of my areas of responsibility as a council member, in fact. The rate of advancement over the century preceding Earth’s reintegration was quite a surprise for everyone, I assure you. We expected to have a millennia or more left before your world reached the critical threshold.”

My mind whirled with questions for the Arbiter, but I forced myself not to get sidetracked. The elf probably knew more about Earth’s history and development than I did.

“Okay, so I’m originally from the United States, which was a democratic republic. We didn’t have nobles or royalty. In fact, most of the world had already moved on from that form of government.” I hesitated before continuing. “Most people from Earth probably view the organization of the Alliance as antiquated.”

“You disagree?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“I do,” I said slowly before glancing at my mentor. He seemed content to listen instead of contributing to the conversation. “I believe that it would be ridiculous to expect someone with actual, real power to accept being controlled by those much weaker, and trying to force something like that would be a recipe for disaster.”

“That’s part of the reason we encourage people who out-tier their world to move on,” the elf commented.

I nodded in acknowledgment. “Exactly. You don’t force them, though, and those who stay do so with the understanding that they cannot take over. If they try, someone stronger will remove them. I like that division of power. It lets people at lower tiers have an opportunity to rule.

“And on that note, I like how the Alliance has created a path where anyone can obtain a noble title. Sure, those who grow up with more resources and connections are going to have advantages over others, but that’s nothing new.

“Kids born to rich, influential parents often became rich and influential because they had the best schools, access to money, and the right connections. It’s not really any different just because magic is involved. I’m just glad the Alliance doesn’t have hereditary titles.”

Arbiter Eskin chuckled. “They aren’t even lifetime titles. The roles are really more of a governorship than true nobility.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I said with a nod. “I like that. I don’t like how some territories are allowed to push the limits and borderline mistreat their people, but I understand the importance of allowing rulers to rule how they see fit. I also know that some conflict is necessary for progression.”

“We do try to curb those who get out of hand, mostly by facilitating an appropriate challenger to their position,” the elf said.

“That’s good,” I said before sighing. “Honestly, I’ve been disconnected from the Alliance too long to have any more of an opinion than that. I’ve spent most of my life in a dungeon, followed by a rift. My time in the Alliance proper is really barely enough to justify the opinions I do have on the topic.”

Even counting the previous timeline, I really hadn’t spent enough time to develop more than an overview of how things worked. I traveled between territories during my time as an adventurer, but I really didn’t get all that involved with things outside my ‘lane.’

Some territories charged more taxes, others less. Some had a tendency to conscript citizens for wars on their neighbors, while others relied strictly on volunteers. My group tended to avoid the former as a general rule, but even then, active adventurers were generally left alone.

“I’m glad that you recognize that. Hopefully, you’ll get the opportunity to experience more of what the Alliance has to offer before you need to firm your opinions.”

I found his phrasing a bit odd, but dismissed the thought in favor of discussing the elf’s experiences and observations pertaining to Earth’s development.

Arbiter Eskin was happy to share his knowledge, and he spent the next half-hour or so describing the reports he’d gotten over the last two millennia, Sira time, which roughly equated to about four hundred years of Earth’s development.

It was really strange to realize that this elf had been monitoring Earth’s development since the mid-1600s.

Kai wandered off at some point but found his way back before the next Councilor arrived with a very familiar white-haired Fate Mage on his arm.

“Well, it looks like it’s time for me to make my announcement,” the knowledgeable elf said when he saw who was approaching. “I’m happy that you’re interested in the ramblings of an old elf like me. Perhaps we’ll get the opportunity to talk again in the future.”

Arbiter Eskin nodded toward the new arrivals as he walked away. Both returned the gesture, though Anya dipped a bit lower.

“Hi, Emie,” Anya said with a friendly smile. “How was your talk with Arbiter Eskin? It looked like you got him going about something.”

“Earth history,” Kai interjected, handing me a plate with a sample of several dishes.

“Ah, that would do it. He finds the development of the colony worlds fascinating. Honestly, I can’t blame him. Learning how societies develop without access to mana – or with minimal mana in the case of Jeslana – is very interesting.”

“What announcement was the old elf talking about?” Kai asked his sister. The councilor standing next to Anya seemed to bristle at Kai’s casual regard.

I took the opportunity to eat while the others were talking. I’d grown quite hungry during the earlier conversation.

“A new Tier Six frontier world is opening,” Anya replied. “The Council is hoping to relieve some of the bottlenecks at mid-tiers and encourage more people to continue their progression. Now that an entire generation has cut their teeth on Agirock, introducing another frontier world makes sense.”

“No worries about the Collective?” Kai asked.

“None that you should bother with. You’ll be in the next realm before any potential issues arise,” Anya’s husband said curtly.

“It’s always nice to see you too, Lance,” my mentor said sarcastically. Turning to me, Kai said, “Emie, this is my brother-in-law, Councilor Lance. He was the driving force behind the deal pushing me to ascend. Don’t hold it against him, though. He struggles with inferiority complexes, stemming from his lackluster affinities and his ongoing inability to—”

“Kai!” Anya hissed, cutting him off. Her hand tightened on her husband’s arm as he tensed at the provocation.

I was a little curious about what the councilor was unable to do, but I figured it was a question better left unasked, at least in polite company.

Clearly, there was a story there.

Smoothing his angry expression to something more civil, Councilor Lance focused his attention on me.

“I can understand the former Patriarch’s deflection,” the man said with faux sympathy. “He’s used to feeling special. As someone with a single affinity, no matter how rare it might be, he’s probably feeling a little inadequate. Being overshadowed by a former student with so much more potential is probably hard for him to handle.”

I didn’t like being brought into their little feud. Underhanded compliments were never something I cared for.

“Seriously, both of you?” Anya said incredulously as she looked back and forth between the two men. “Can’t the two of you just try to get along for the evening? I doubt Emie wants to witness such unseemly behavior from two Pinnacles.”

Thankfully, Arbiter Eskin’s announcement about the new Tier Six frontier world prevented any more exchanges. When the announcement was over, Anya grabbed her brother’s arm and led him away, probably to chastise him for provoking her husband.

“I apologize for my uncouth comments, Mage Momentia. Or would you prefer Mage Emie or Elder?”

“Elder seems a little inappropriate, given the circumstances,” I admitted. “Mage Emie is fine. Or just Emie, if you prefer.”

“Emie, then,” Councilor Lance said with a satisfied smile. “If we ever see each other outside of Council meetings or functions, you may call me Lance.”

We watched silently as Anya hissed a quiet rebuke at Kai in the corner. After a few seconds, Councilor Lance cleared his throat and turned toward me.

“I hesitate to bring this up since Anya is always warning me that foreknowledge has a tendency to alter the future, but it seems increasingly likely that you will become a force to reckon with once you complete the dungeon. I’d like to extend an offer of cooperation to you, should you need support or assistance in the future.”

I blinked several times as I processed his comment. Was he implying I’d need his help with something, or just letting me know I had his support? He’d specifically mentioned foreknowledge before making the offer, so it almost had to be some kind of warning.

“Thank you?” I said uncertainly. “I’m not sure when I might need the support of a council member, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Do you not plan to remain in this realm for a while?”

I frowned at the question, though I understood why he’d ask.

“I am inclined to delay my ascension, at least for a while,” I said carefully. “I know that Kai is hoping I’ll change my mind and ascend with him, but I’ve already missed too much of my family’s lives. I’m going to miss even more when I return to the dungeon. I don’t think I’m ready to give up everything for some unknown future."

Based on his expression, my answer did not surprise him. Anya had probably already used her Fate magic to peek into the future, so he likely knew my answer before I did.

As helpful as I could see it being, I found myself disliking Fate magic. The idea of Fate basically went against the concept of free will.

Did people really have free will if it was possible to see the future? If Fate was a real thing, how much free will could someone have? And since Fate arguably was real…

I shook off the creeping existential crisis and focused on the people around me.

I wasn’t quite sure why the Council had called the gathering a ball since nobody was really dancing. It was more of a social or a meet-and-greet.

Kai and Anya returned, both looking less than pleased.

“It was nice seeing you, Emie. I’m going to take Lance and mingle a bit. Perhaps we could get together next week after you catch up with your friends from the dungeon. I have a favor to ask, but now is probably not the time,” she said before shooting a glare at her brother.

A little off-balance by the casual mention of my plans, I stuttered an affirmative response, and the pair walked away.

I turned to Kai and asked, “How often does she look at my future? How much of it can she really see?”

My mentor looked confused for a moment before his eyes lit up with understanding.

“Oh, you’re wondering about her reference to your plans next week?” he asked. I nodded in response. “I’m guessing you’ve already made the arrangements with your friends, and given the relatively close timeframe, it makes ‘seeing’ it easy. If you hadn’t already made plans, Anya would have had a harder time picking up on the meeting.”

“Does her affinity ever make you uncomfortable,” I asked quietly. “Like, do you feel like she’s pushing you in one direction or the other? Like she’s manipulating your actions or circumstances to suit her desires?”

I liked Anya, in general. She was a pleasant person to interact with. But I was finding it harder to ignore the influence of her affinity the more I paid attention to her words and actions.

“Sometimes,” Kai admitted. His voice was so low I barely caught his answer. A bit louder, he said, “But she’s my sister, and I know she has my best interests at heart.”

“Does she?” I questioned. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but just being related to someone doesn’t mean they’ll automatically have your best interests in mind. History is filled with stories of siblings killing each other, children killing parents… really, any dynamic you can think of, there are stories about betrayal.”

It was a bit hypocritical of me to ask since I’d always trusted my parents and Justin to have my best interests at heart. But that didn’t mean that I thought they would choose my interests over theirs if the two conflicted. It really depended on the consequences involved.

What were Anya’s goals? What end result was she aiming for?

“I assure you, the stories from Earth don’t hold a candle to those of the Alliance. I am no stranger to the concept of betrayal,” Kai said. “But I do trust Anya. Her affinity has always pushed her to meddle a bit, but she always does so with the intent to bring about the best outcome.”

‘Best for whom?’ I couldn’t help but wonder.