MEMORIES OF AN OVERLORD
by Victar (vctr113062 [at] aol [dot] com)
Victar's Archive: https://www.vicfanfic.com
"A couple months after my big breakdown, I stopped withdrawing so much. I even continued to make 'friends' at school, as long as I didn't get too close to any of them."
Chapter Twelve
Memories of a Scholar: Hypothesis, Predictions, and Testing
No longer the democratically elected king of Kreisia, Cedric Welkin reviewed a transcript of Overlord Yusis Orzand's obelisk writings, while waiting in the locked guest room of Lamtia Thor's house.
For the first time in history, a risen Overlord has retained the mind of the Savior he once was - but for how much longer? Cedric silently wondered. Will a new Savior be summoned from off-world before Orzand 'erases' the consciousness of Yusis?
In the previous cycle, the Overlord's reign of terror lasted for far too long before Savior Yusis was summoned. And even though Savior Yusis appeared to be shockingly inferior, no one summoned a better Savior.
Are there any priestesses left who have both the raw talent and the will for self-sacrifice that Cynthia Klaus had?
No... that Cynthia Klaus has.
Overlord Yusis claims that she is not undead. That all three Lesser Seals are alive and possessed of free will.
Cedric thought back to the last time he had seen his elder sister, alive and possessed of free will.
It had been thirty years ago...
In some ways, Circe Welkin was far more than an elder sister to Cedric.
Before Cedric was born, the Holy Brand Aldea had communicated a dire warning to Kreisia's government. Although the Savior had vanquished the Jongleur Overlord and sacrificed himself to become the next Greater Seal, one of the Savior's three companions - the Altean volunteer - had been derelict in his duty to become a Lesser Seal. Kreisia's peace would end years before the Holy Brand could renew its fire.
When Cedric had been a young child, and Circe had been a teenager, the Holy Brand's ominous prediction came true. Kreisia's peace ended after only six years, instead of ten. The Assassin Overlord grew dramatically in power during a lengthy reign of terror. The Overlord blighted croplands, causing widespread famine. Monsters targeted scholars and skilled workers; miasma flooded libraries and institutions of learning, pushing Kreisia to the verge of a dark age. Cedric and Circe had lost their parents to those dark times, an era when half of Kreisia's population perished.
Perhaps the Overlord Orzand would have destroyed all life, if not for the guidance of a summoned Savior perpetually cloaked in shadows. For three and a half years, the off-world Savior used his keen mind for military strategy to help Kreisia endure. He commanded campaigns and rallied survivors. He devised masterful plans to stall the Overlord's legions and stymie assassination attempts. The culmination of this Savior's tireless efforts came when Aldea's fire finally rekindled, after nine and a half years of slumber. The Savior claimed the Holy Brand, assassinated the Assassin, and sacrificed himself to become the next Greater Seal.
During the quiet decade that followed, Circe had all but raised Cedric, with support from distant relatives. When the cycle turned again, Circe resolved to put an immediate end to the Master Tactician Overlord's reign of terror. Cedric had been unaware that Circe was personally attempting the summon spell, until she made a final visit to inform her younger brother. Beside her was the mysterious Savior she had summoned from another world.
"No, Cedric. Do not look at me like that. You must smile. I am the Priestess of Salvation now!" Circe beamed, radiant with happiness.
"Circe, I..." For once, words failed the notoriously loquacious Cedric.
She giggled slightly as she leaned forward, and tousled her teenaged brother's hair.
"Circe!" he cried, shocked by her shameless mistreatment. She always was an odd one. He immediately produced a comb and set to work undoing the disarray.
The off-world Savior she had summoned was quite unusual. This Savior was - a woman? Female Saviors were uncommon in Kreisia's history, but not unknown. There were also records of Saviors who did not appear to be either male or female. It was hard to tell in this case, because dark purple cloths covered the Savior's entire body except for her eyes, long horizontal slits that glowed solid red.
"We must migrate now," the Savior told Circe, in a rigid, humming voice. "Hives are endangered. Juveniles imperiled. We must protect Kreisia."
Circe hugged her beloved younger brother, one final time.
"You will do great things one day, Cedric," she whispered. "I know you will."
The cycle of thirty years ago had one of the briefest reigns of terror in Kreisia's recorded history, with the fewest casualties, Cedric reflected. Circe's Savior possessed an immense aptitude for magic. The Savior swiftly lay waste to the Master Tactician Overlord's legion of superlatively powerful monsters, and to the Overlord himself.
But ten years later...
Cedric remembered the final time he had seen his elder sister, when she was no longer alive, and no longer possessed of free will.
It was well-known that Lesser Seals were driven to slaughter their former associates and kindred. Everyone in Cedric's village was fearfully aware that Circe Welkin would return to destroy them all, if she was not destroyed first.
In the months prior to the cycle's turn, the government had sent Royal Guards and Royal Mages to defend the townspeople. As time dragged on, friction between the Varg Royal Guards and the Lunarl Royal Mages grew into a disgruntled rift. Loud quarrels became a common occurrence. The two delegations ultimately split into separate camps on the village's either side.
The only time the Vargs and Lunarls seemed to get along was when they both directed jeers to a small band of traveling Altean mercenaries. The Alteans shared terrifying news; Circe Welkin had awakened, and escaped the Savior. Circe's Wizard Overlord was using miasma and monsters to keep the Savior pinned down, even barricading the Holy Brand Aldea's power of teleportation with a ward far stronger than what any mortal could cast.
After delivering their warning, the Altean mercenaries offered their services for hire, admittedly at an exorbitant price. The Royal Guards and Royal Mages scornfully turned the Alteans away.
That night, at the moment of midnight, liquid miasma and jet-black fire rained from the sky. Death and fire formed a constant, steady stream that eradicated dwellings, trees, and people.
The Wizard Overlord that Circe served possessed an immense aptitude for magic. The Overlord's apocalyptic spells lay waste to defenses both sorcerous and mundane. Monsters descended from the skies, and savaged the living with tooth and claw.
Separated from the Royal Mages, the Royal Guards fought valiantly against the Overlord's monsters, but soon fell to the lethal rain that swiftly overwhelmed the limited protection of their enchanted equipment. The slain Vargs arose as undead.
Separated from the Royal Guards, the Royal Mages shielded themselves from the Overlord's miasma-fire, but could not fend off all of the Overlord's monsters while maintaining their protection. When monsters that had once been Royal Guards entered the fray, they cut down the last of the Royal Mages.
The undead, miasma-fueled madwoman that had once been Cedric's sister laughed with giddy abandon. Circe Welkin danced, as she cast fire and death upon the people she had spent her life among.
Cedric had tried to prepare for his sister's return. He had studied sorcery for ten years, especially holy magic. He had pushed his limits to master barrier spells, wards, healing magic, and holy attacks.
Bolstered by the sheer might of her Overlord, Circe pushed aside Cedric's power with a single sweep of her arm, giggling all the while.
Then she leaned forward and tousled his hair. Miasma dripped from her clawed fingers, burning his skull. Poisonous fumes choked his lungs.
"No! We are too late!"
Cedric heard the pained, heroic cry as if from a great distance away. His watering eyes fixated on a slash of blazing holy fire, guided by a platinum-blond warrior with two long antenna-trails drifting from either side of his face. The off-worlder's attack severed Circe's body in two, from shoulder to waist. Her laughter became a shrill scream; her broken form dissolved beneath the fire and death-magic that rained from the sky.
The stricken voice of a female Lunarl trilled, "I can save this one - cover me!"
The gruff voice of a male Varg roared, "You will NOT come any closer, fiends!"
The strained voice of a male Lunarl warned, "I can't keep up our protection for much longer! These monsters are all vessels for the Overlord's magic; destroy them, quickly!"
A resonant, soundless reverberation echoed in Cedric's mind. *Unleash my fire freely, Savior. Aside from the priestess' patient, the only life remaining is a few children hidden within an underground shelter.*
Before Cedric fell unconscious, the last thing he saw was a glimpse of Savior Clize, clad in black armor with a flowing red cape, as he turned the Holy Brand Aldea against an encroaching throng of undead monsters. Many of the monsters had once been Cedric's relatives, friends, and neighbors, or the Royal Guards and Royal Mages assigned to protect them.
The cycle of twenty years ago was also a brief reign of terror, but the Wizard Overlord that Circe had once summoned was so strong...
My village did not have any hope of withstanding the Overlord's assault until Savior Clize could arrive. Not when our defenders were so deeply divided.
If I had attempted to smooth relations between the Vargs and the Lunarls, would they have listened to me? Could I have persuaded them to work together, instead of stationing themselves in separate camps?
Could I have prevented our defenders from turning the Altean mercenaries away? Could I have negotiated a hiring contract? I had saved up funds from my government stipend, given to me in recognition of Circe's sacrifice. Many of my neighbors felt terrified enough to part with their own savings. We could have collectively offered a substantial portion of the Alteans' initial asking price.
I do not know whether I could have used diplomacy to protect us all. I will never know, because I did not so much as try.
The noisy bickering between Vargs and Lunarls irritated me; I welcomed their decision to separate. I thought that bargaining with Alteans was beneath me.
My talent for holy magic was greater than that of most Lunarls, even surpassing the potential of some priestesses. I called myself a 'priest'. I was so proud, so sure of my own power.
I was a self-deluded fool.
My power was nothing compared to the might of the Overlord. On that day, I learned that only all of Kreisia, working together, could possibly have a chance of survival.
I refused to let that bitter lesson be for nothing. I went into politics, and discovered an inner talent far more crucial than my potential for magic - the talent to rally and inspire others. That talent was my weapon to combat strife between Kreisia's three races. I fought to unite my people.
We needed that unity. It was the only thing that prevented Overlord Clize from annihilating us, before Savior Yusis could bring us another ten years of peace.
The cycle cannot continue as it has. Even united, we cannot survive many more turns of it. We may not survive one more turn of it.
Not if Yusis truly is a 'Time Mage Overlord', as he claims to be in these writings.
Magic that commands time itself... Chronomancy...
A few bardic magic spells and items that mildly affect the flow of time exist in Kreisia today. Advanced time manipulation is unknown to us. True Chronomancy is only mentioned in legends that predate the cycle. Legends from the era of Yumarac.
Yumarac... the Alteans' nigh-mythical, off-world ancestor... the creator of the Holy Brand Aldea...
Yumarac has profoundly impacted Kreisia's history, yet little is truly known about him. So much of our scholarship has been lost to the cycle that Yumarac devised to 'protect' us.
Did you create Orzand as well, Yumarac? Was Orzand your first attempt to seal Kreisia's miasma, an attempt gone horrifically wrong?
Yusis believes so...
Cedric perused Overlord Yusis Orzand's writings one more time, line for line, word for word, then resolved to take a brief rest.
Like all Lesser Seals before her, Laminah will surely arrive at midnight. I should replenish my strength while I can.
Cedric invoked minor magic to ensure that an alarm would rouse him in time to prepare. His sleep was thankfully dreamless.
When Cedric awakened, he ate a single travel ration and drank a small amount of water that he conjured into a flask. He used the adjoining ablution room to clean and groom himself, taking extra care to comb his long, golden hair and trim the fur of his ears. He double-checked the defensive wards cast on his clothing and his own anti-poison ward; they were as effective as ever.
Cedric collected his satchel, which was enchanted to be capable of holding far more than an ordinary pack and brimming with supplies. With a light flick, he tucked a teleportation bead from the satchel into a hidden pocket of his sleeve.
It is possible that Laminah will not arrive tonight, but improbable. She was never one to hesitate, and she knows that time is running out for the consciousness of Yusis.
Overlord Yusis' writings claim that the Lesser Seals will deliver the Holy Brand Aldea's pommel stones to the next Savior. No off-world Savior has been summoned yet. If Laminah does not have any other plan concerning what to do or where to go next, then her impulse to come here will only be stronger.
Still, I would not wish to upset my gracious host by venturing out too early.
Cedric drew upon a strain of divination magic that he had not personally practiced in two decades. His skill was limited and unsteady, but not completely forgotten.
Why, Lamtia. This is a surprise. Your home's wards against divination have an exception explicitly for spells cast by me.
You truly did anticipate that I would await Laminah's return, did you not? Apparently you felt it would be best if I could learn about the outside situation without physically leaving this room.
There are quite a few people gathered, right now. Yes, I can sense your presence, Lamtia, and a number of stalwart, faithful defenders, and - King Lamton Thor?
Lamton, you said this was too dangerous. Did you make a promise to your niece ten years ago? I cannot imagine what else would constrain your heart more strongly than your sense of reason.
Cedric monitored the area near Lamtia's home for long minutes.
Could I have miscalculated my prediction?
Could the Lesser Seals have chosen to bring the pommel stones directly to Aldea? In all of known history, Aldea has never departed its shrine before an off-world Savior claimed it.
Overlord Yusis' writings speculate that a native of Kreisia could wield Aldea, but the writings also state that the Lesser Seals have acquired a weakness to holy power. Laminah cannot wield Aldea herself.
If the Lesser Seals were to approach the Holy Brand without any potential wielder, would it listen to them? Would it even wake up? Laminah described its exceptionally prideful personality in her written reports. She noted that it did not so much as speak before Savior Yusis touched it. On the few occasions that I have communicated with Aldea, my impression of its ego corroborated with hers.
Is Aldea safe while it sleeps? Its holy grasslands provide a strong defense against the undead, but Overlord Yusis has power over time itself, and he has emphatically declared his hatred for the Holy Brand.
If that hatred were to wholly consume him...
Laminah has extensively studied military history. Anemos must have a solid grounding in bardic legends and lore. Cynthia's knowledge of history may not be as thorough as theirs, yet she must be quite sensitive to magic, and she has presumably been in the Overlord's presence. Surely, the Lesser Seals are all aware of the dire peril that a Chronomancer Overlord portends.
Surely, the Lesser Seals would seek a wielder for Aldea prior to approaching it? They would not risk provoking either the Holy Brand or the Overlord without bringing a candidate, would they?
Could it be that living Lesser Seals lack any compulsion to revisit the people they were once close to? Alternatively, could Laminah have prioritized accompanying Anemos or Cynthia to their former homes, before-?
An alert from Cedric's divination spell interrupted his thoughts.
They are here. All three of them.
They appear to have living bodies, and their only black markings are in their hair. Throughout history, the undead bodies of Lesser Seals have always been crisscrossed with black marks, a side effect of miasma's funneled power. Yet miasma's power has scarcely grazed these three.
They are not attempting any violence. They have withdrawn into a protective dome shaped from Cynthia's holy magic.
Holy power does not allow slaves of the Overlord to wield it, whether those slaves are living or undead. Holy power exists to protect life; if any of the Lesser Seals posed a threat to the living, then holy power would refuse to shield them.
They truly are alive. They truly are possessed of free will.
Laminah, you truly are...!
Cedric blinked, and wiped the slighted trace of gathering moisture from his eyes.
If my sister had summoned Yusis as her Savior, would her return have been peaceful? Would she be alive today?
Cedric concentrated on calming his churning emotions.
No. Now is not the time to ponder a thought like that. Later, perhaps, but not now.
Cedric eyed the locked, solid metal guest room door.
The golden-haired Lunarl withdrew a quantity of Kreisian currency from a sack within his satchel, and set the money in plain view on the guest room's only table. Then he concentrated on shaping holy magic. A supernaturally sharp blade formed in his right hand; he used it to slice open a section of the wall next to the door in neat, orderly cuts. He dismissed the blade, and stooped to crawl through the hole.
Lamtia, it is unfortunate that I must inflict damage upon your home, but I have left behind sufficient funds to compensate you.
There was a fair amount of commotion sounding from outside the house. Cedric listened closely as he silently unlocked the back door and slipped through it.
This calls for some particularly delicate diplomacy. Perhaps the subtle approach would be best.
Cedric drew upon his knowledge of concealment magic. Though he was far from a master of illusions, an extremely distracting confrontation helped him stay unnoticed.
"Was this truly the best idea?" Anemos mused, worriedly.
"I can keep this barrier up for a while," Cynthia affirmed, although a shadow of strain ran through her voice and body.
The three Lesser Seals huddled in a flashing dome of protective holy magic, surrounded by a wide circle of Royal Guards and Royal Mages who brandished swords, bows, and staffs.
Royal Chanters were stationed behind the Royal Guards and Royal Mages. The Royal Chanters intently focused their attention upon Anemos. Each Royal Chanter had crafted himself or herself an extra layer of defense against harmful chants. Each appeared poised to unleash a chant or counter-chant at any moment.
Anemos steadily returned the gaze of a Royal Chanter.
"Um, Anemos, do you recognize someone?" Cynthia whispered.
"Any passing acquaintance I have will not work in our favor," he quietly replied. "The lead Royal Chanter might be willing to hear us out, but I have been unable to reach her with a communication chant. I would rather not believe that misfortune has befallen her in the past ten years; it is far more likely that she is not currently within the Royal Capital. I cannot initiate communication with her across more than a short distance, for I do not know her true name."
Cynthia worriedly glanced to her other companion. "Laminah, you know some of these Royal Guards, don't you? Maybe you can talk to them?"
"I do not know what to say." Hollowness affected the warrior's voice.
"No. You do not know what to say, do you?" observed a tall, proud, heavily armored Varg woman, as she entered the hostile circle. The dry skin of her stern face belied that she was approaching the end of middle age, yet her lavender eyes flashed with vigor as she pointed her halberd toward Laminah and charged, "All you know is that you are compelled to return. As every Lesser Seal is compelled to return."
"Mother," Laminah breathed. "It is true. You have fully recovered your mind."
"Did your Overlord tell you that?"
"Overlord Yusis did inform me, but know that he is not and never will be my master. As long as he retains his Savior mind, he is my friend."
"What sort of 'friend' does that to a Varg's hair?" Lamtia contemptuously snorted, eyeing the jagged black stripe running through Laminah's white tresses.
"An extremely corrupt one, yet a friend nonetheless."
"And how 'corrupt' are you, Laminah?"
"All I can say is that I am not here to bring harm. None of us are. We are here to aid the next Savior, and to pursue total victory in the war against Orzand."
"Do you possess the Holy Brand Aldea's pommel stones?"
"We do."
The deep voice of a Varg man sounded. "By the authority invested in me as Kreisia's king, I demand that you hand over the Holy Brand's pommel stones at once."
"Uncle?" Laminah gasped, staring at the crowned, royal-robed figure standing beyond the ring of defenders.
"It is King Lamton Thor, now."
"What - what happened to-?"
"Cedric Welkin has abdicated the throne. For his safety, I will not tell you any more than that." King Lamton Thor frowned. "Laminah Thor, I have given you a royal order. Will you obey?"
"I..." Laminah's eyes shifted to Cynthia, who trembled in place maintaining the protective holy barrier, then to Anemos. "I do not know what to do. We intended to deliver the pommel stones to the next Savior."
Cynthia shuddered. Anemos withdrew a healing bead from his vest, crushed it, and willed its magic to ease her pain.
The bard reasoned, "I suspect the next Savior has not been summoned yet. Can King Thor keep the pommel stones safe until then?"
Laminah looked uncertainly at Kreisia's new leader. "King Thor, I trust your will absolutely, but your ability is not infinite. Orzand will eventually 'erase' the Savior mind of Overlord Yusis. If the Holy Brand's pommel stones are within the Royal Capital when that happens, then Orzand will besiege the city, just as Vatoren was besieged."
King Thor folded his arms. His frown deepened.
"Do you truly expect us to let you three keep the pommel stones?" Lamtia harshly questioned. "How are we to know that you will not lose your minds, when the Overlord loses his?"
Laminah firmly answered, "Orzand is the mind of the miasma. We have no miasma within our bodies, and we have all refused to pledge obedience to the Overlord. Orzand can neither 'erase' nor control us."
"You were compelled to come here. At midnight, no less."
"Yes. We planned to approach in the morning, but I... I had to see you now."
"Enough words in circles. Battle will show whether you are truly my daughter," Lamtia announced. "I offer you the gift and the challenge of a duel. The victor will claim the pommel stones, in accordance with lawful dueling code that supersedes even a royal order. Regardless of the outcome, you and your fellow Lesser Seals will thereafter leave the Royal Capital and never return. Do you accept this bargain, Laminah Thor, warrior formerly in service to Savior Yusis, and Lesser Seal?"
Uncertainty immediately left Laminah's composure. She glanced to Anemos and Cynthia, who both nodded.
"Yes, mother," Laminah stated. "We accept your terms, but I will not duel with my halberd. We are not here to kill, or to maim." She handed her halberd to Anemos, who gingerly held it in one hand while using the other to invoke another healing bead upon Cynthia.
Laminah said to Cynthia, "Please create a staff for me."
"And for me," Lamtia added, giving her own halberd to a Royal Guard.
King Thor interjected, "Lamtia, are you certain-"
"If the conjured weapon fails me, then that will be incontrovertible evidence of what the Lesser Seals are," declared the older warrior. "Brother, if you or any defenders meddle with this duel, then I will challenge you next, and I will break your bones."
"Do not tempt me to take you on, sister," Lamton curtly returned. "Royal Guards, Royal Mages, step back. Do not interfere in this contest. Royal Chanters, remain on standby and keep your counter-chants primed."
The defenders did as instructed, widening their circle. Cynthia shook as she crafted two flashing, magical staffs, all the while maintaining her protective barrier of holy power.
"These should last you both for a while," Cynthia gasped, with a flinch. "They'll disappear at the same time."
Anemos soothed Cynthia's pain with another healing bead. He murmured to Laminah, "I am not allowed to interfere either, am I? No spells, no magic items, and no chants?"
"I will break more than your bones if you do," Laminah warned.
"Duly noted," the bard sighed. "I should not have asked something so obvious."
"They wouldn't let you interfere anyway," Cynthia whispered, with a sidelong glance to the Royal Mages and Royal Chanters.
Laminah stepped outside of the holy barrier. She lightly tossed one staff to her mother, and held the other in both hands at an angle.
"This duel ends when one of you can no longer stand, or chooses to surrender," King Thor announced. "Begin."
The duelists circled one another, then acted at close to the same moment. Lamtia swiped her staff, aiming for her daughter's horned head. The younger Varg ducked and made a low lunge, snapping her staff in a long strike that collided with the greaves of her mother's armor.
"Those two truly are magnificent!" Cedric laughed, from behind Cynthia and Anemos.
Cynthia jumped in place. "How did you-?"
"Ah, this is unexpected," Anemos uneasily remarked.
"Cedric? What are you doing!?" roared King Thor.
Laminah leaped over a low staff attack to her legs, then exhaled sharply as a kick from her mother struck her squarely in the gut.
Cedric reprimanded, "That is my question, Lamton. Did we not agree that confronting the Lesser Seals is too dangerous for a king?"
King Thor rejoined, "No, you said it was too dangerous for a king. I said it was too dangerous for you!"
Laminah crouched and brought up her staff to parry her mother's overhead swing.
Cedric made a gentlemanly bow to Cynthia. "My dear, it seems that maintaining this protective dome places a strain upon you. Allow me? The spell will still be yours; I will simply power it for a time."
Cynthia blinked twice. "Um, okay?"
Cedric swept his hand through the air; a spark of brilliant white flickered and danced on his fingertip. "I studied holy magic for ten years, but I could never create anything this strong. Nothing that would even compare. You truly are an exceptional priestess."
King Thor shouted, "Cedric, do you have even a fragment of common sense?"
Lamtia used her staff to deflect her daughter's punch. Laminah shifted position, searching for an opportunity to strike.
"Holy magic is a most marvelous power," Cedric observed, with congenial warmth. "Do you know, it is also described as 'love of life'? Even the most impenetrable holy barrier cannot keep out a friend who whole-heartedly desires to protect those within. Unless that friend is possessed by evil, of course."
King Thor bellowed, "Cedric, you may see the Lesser Seals as 'friends', but that does not mean they see you as a 'friend'!"
Laminah attempted to batter her mother's knees with a series of swift strikes. Only one landed before Lamtia dealt a hard blow to her daughter's shoulder.
"King Thor has a point," Cedric noted, looking to Cynthia and Anemos. "I do not need to ask Laminah, but the two of you are another matter. Do you consider me a friend? Or possibly even a companion? Cynthia dear, what do you say?"
"I - I know Laminah likes you a lot," the priestess stammered. "I really do respect you for making Kreisia a better place, and you helped all of us so much ten years ago. If you say you're my friend, then yes! I'm your friend too." A cheerful smile touched her lips. "In a way, I think you've been a companion since the day we first met."
Lamtia thrust her palm toward her daughter's chin. The blow connected hard enough to stagger Laminah.
"And how about you, dear Anemos?" Cedric contemplated, holding the index finger of his free hand a short distance from the bard's nose. "Do you see me as a friend or companion? You are not aggrieved over your sentence for high treason, are you?"
"Ah, no, of course I am not aggrieved," the bard apprehensively responded, leaning back. "I was - I am grateful for your mercy. Truly grateful."
Laminah and Lamtia clashed with repeated, cross-body blows, each parrying the other in a ferocious effort to press for a vulnerable opening.
Anemos cleared his throat. "So, ah, your majesty emeritus?"
"Feel free to call me Cedric," offered the golden-haired Lunarl.
"Ah, thank you. Cedric, all things considered - including your extensive efforts to end mistreatment of Alteans like myself - I must answer 'yes'. Yes, it would be an honor to call you a friend, or a companion."
"Wonderful!" Cedric exuberantly exclaimed.
"Am I going down in history as the king who let the Lesser Seals strike down Kreisia's beloved symbol of hope!?" Lamton protested.
"Come now, Lamton," Cedric chided. "If the Lesser Seals truly intended to strike me down, as Orzand surely desires, then would they not have attempted violence by now? This evidence supports my hypothesis that they possess only the compulsion to revisit their former homes at midnight, and no harmful drive."
Laminah successfully hooked one end of her staff under her mother's arm, and used it as a lever to pry her off balance. When Lamtia sought to recover her footing, Laminah slammed her mother's armor again and again.
Cedric calmly said, "Cynthia dear, your barrier spell is starting to wear upon me. I will return the responsibility for powering it to you now, if you please. Are you ready? There. I need to leave this dome for a moment."
As Laminah raised her staff high overhead for one more downward strike, Cedric waved to her from behind her mother's crumpling form.
"I think your new hairstyle is exquisite, Laminah," Cedric beamed, with a broad, heartfelt smile. "It is so good to see you again!"
Laminah froze in place.
Lamtia thrust her staff upward and cracked her daughter solidly on the chin. Laminah sagged to the ground. Her staff fell from her fingers.
"You truly are my daughter," Lamtia quietly admitted. "Laminah, I am sorry that I stopped being your mother for so long. I vow that I will remain your mother for the rest of my days."
Laminah propped herself on trembling arms. Her mouth worked, but she was unable to voice words. When she tried to rise, she swayed, clutched at her jaw, and slipped back down.
Lamtia painfully climbed to her feet.
King Thor declared, "This duel is ended. Lamtia Thor is the victor."
Cynthia half-closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. The staffs she had conjured vanished into fading sparks.
"Cedric, I should break at least one of your bones," Lamtia growled, with an ill-tempered glower. "As a gift to my daughter, I will refrain."
"I did not interfere," Cedric professed.
King Thor pointed to Laminah and commanded, "Stun bolts! Now!"
"No," Cedric denied, snapping his fingers. A small, haphazardly flickering dome of holy power appeared over Laminah, deflecting the Royal Guards' blunt arrows of paralysis.
"That is most unnecessary, King Thor," reproached the golden-haired Lunarl.
"Cedric, we must secure the pommel stones!"
"These?" Cedric withdrew three shining gemstones from his sleeve, idly flipping them from one hand to the other.
Anemos reached into his vest. His mouth dropped open, with a quick intake of breath. "How did you-?"
"Just like the Holy Brand itself, Aldea's pommel stones are made of pure, concentrated holy power," Cedric answered, with a wink. "Very easy to detect, once I was inside your barrier. Very responsive to my summon, and you were quite entranced by a singularly magnificent duel."
Lamtia asserted, "Those pommel stones are my rightful prize for victory."
"That is true," Cedric acknowledged. "Lamtia, I greatly need them; Kreisia's future is at stake. Could you find it in your heart to-?"
"Cedric, I choose to bequeath the Holy Brand's pommel stones to you. I will trust in your wisdom, even as my beloved daughter does. Do not make me regret this decision."
"You have my utmost gratitude." The golden-haired Lunarl rubbed his other sleeve.
King Thor threw his hands in the air. "Cedric, do you think I cannot tell what you just invoked?"
"Was it that obvious?"
"Yes. You have less than thirty seconds to explain why Kreisia's beloved symbol of hope has not gone completely mad!"
"It is quite simple. This symbol of hope-" Cedric pointed to his own face. "-is taking these symbols of hope-" Cedric tucked the pommel stones inside his traveler's satchel. "-to the Holy Brand Aldea, Kreisia's legendary symbol of hope."
Cedric closed his satchel and patted it. "Since a new Overlord has risen, I am also bringing three cherished friends to protect me. Together, the four of us and the Holy Brand will test a hypothesis to destroy Kreisia's miasma forever!
"King Thor, I know that you will send news to all the land as soon as the next Savior is summoned. When we hear of it, we will gladly deliver the Holy Brand, pommel stones and all. Could you please spread word of our quest, as well?
"King Thor, you truly are the most capable, trustworthy, and honorable successor I could ever hope to have."
Cedric flashed one last, charming smile as the teleportation bead he had activated took effect, transporting him and his three companions to the shrine of the Holy Brand Aldea.
"I will go down in history as either the king who saved Kreisia or the king who doomed it," King Lamton Thor grumbled. "Neither tale will be the truth."
End of Chapter Twelve: Hypothesis, Predictions, and Testing