4.03 K (1/2)

Two days after Flos returned to his city with an entire village at his back, Trey woke up at the crack of dawn. It was part of his new routine.

He woke up when Teres took his pillow away. That was a surefire method to waking Trey up. He opened his eyes grudgingly and saw she was already dressed and staring at a wall.

That was normal. Trey changed out of his clothes as Teres stood in place. They were used to giving each other privacy, but he suspected Teres wouldn’t have looked around in any case. Sure enough, when he stumbled over to her, her eyes were closed and she was swaying in place.

“Teres.”

“Go away.”

“Gotta—”

“Nuh.”

“Yeah.”

He pushed her towards the door. Teres grudgingly moved rather than fall over.

This was their new day. And it was, to quote Teres, complete bollocks. Trey preferred outrageously bollocks, but the feeling was the same.

They had to get up at dawn, without eating brekkie, and head over to the training grounds.

People were already up and about at this time of day. But it did not make the twins any happier to see people walking about briskly, looking like fresh daisies. Trey would have loved to sleep in until at least seven or eight—Teres would prefer ten. But here they were.

“You’re late.”

For once, Orthenon did not receive the shy smile from Teres. She glared at him, which did not faze the steward in the slightest. He beckoned to Teres with a wooden sword in hand and she stomped off after him.

“Trey! Excellent! Good to see you up!”

The booming voice reminded Trey of the time he and Teres had snuck some of their father’s alcohol into their room and tried it. The morning after had felt something like this. He winced and turned to bow towards Flos as the king strode towards him.

“Good morning.”

“I feel so as well. Come, Mars and I have been sparring lightly.”

The King threw an arm around Trey’s shoulders and half-dragged the young man towards Mars. As always Trey fought to keep his eyes on her face. There was always something eye-catching about Mars, but he was beginning to suspect at least part of the attraction he felt towards her was magical. It made sense, right? Mars wasn’t known as the Illusionist for no reason.

And as Teres has snidely pointed out, no warrior could get away without having any scars from battle. Flos had several on his arms, and Orthenon had a few. But Mars did not. Gazi didn’t either, actually, but Trey hadn’t bothered pointing that out to Teres.

“Trey. Ready to learn some more sword techniques?”

Mars greeted Trey cheerfully and he managed to nod without yawning. She laughed, tossed him a sword which he managed to catch this time – the last two days he’d dropped it – and they began training.

It was actually as dull as dull could be. Trey had expected practicing swordplay with the King of Destruction and one of the most high-level warriors in the world to be more exciting. But Mars and Flos just swung their swords in exaggeratedly slow motion, which looked easier than it was as well.

Trey tried to copy them, but he found that while he could deliberately swing his sword slowly the first eight times or so, his arms got really tired after the thirtieth swing. And his mind was extremely bored the entire time. By the time he was done, Trey was sweating and his arms hurt. But they weren’t done. Not even close.

After that, he hit a cloth dummy with his sword as Flos and Mars made him strike with proper footwork and form. Now Trey had to be quick and precise, neither of which felt easy when he watched Flos hit his training dummy hard enough to make the wooden pole it was attached to crack. Faced with that example, every time Trey swung the sword he’d been given, he felt slow as an ox and weak as a baby.

“Alright, now it’s practice time! Come on, hit me!”

Mars always said the same thing. She would grin and lift a shield up and rap on it with her practice sword. Trey would do his best to tap her with his sword, but she’d block him every time, often pausing to tell him why he’d failed to hit her as hard as possible.

It wasn’t fun. When he was done for the day—a good hour later it felt—Trey was miserable. And his arms hurt. And his legs. He felt like his hands were getting blisters, and he just wanted to have something to eat.

“Ah, Trey. Don’t look so depressed.”

Flos jovially slapped Trey on the shoulder. Now Trey’s shoulder hurt too. Trey glared up at the King of Destruction.

“I’m not good at fighting. Do I have to do it?”

“Unless you prove you can shoot lightning, or you find another class more suited to you, yes.”

Flos smiled at Trey as Mars practiced against an invisible enemy with her sword and shield. She was always in the training grounds, even far later in the day. She often hung about, but she would train like that for hours on end.

Now she paused to look at Trey.

“You haven’t gotten the [Warrior] class yet, have you Trey?”

Flos shook his head at the same time Trey did.

“I asked both Teres and Trey to refuse any classes for the moment. Until they were sure of their choice.”

Mars’ eyebrows rose.

“Refuse a class? You can do that?”

The King nodded. Trey had been so amazed to hear the voice in his head the first time he wouldn’t have known to stop it unless he’d been told. But Flos had told him that very night to do just that. The King frowned at Mars as he wiped some sweat from his brow.

“I could have sworn I told you about that, Mars.”

She shrugged, looking slightly guilty.

“I may have forgotten…”

Flos grinned.

“No matter. But I am not sure a [Warrior] is the class for Trey. Teres might find some success there.”

Trey looked around. Teres and Orthenon weren’t in the courtyard. Apparently, Orthenon preferred other, less populated places to practice, and so every day Teres would leave with him and come back looking like she’d run a marathon.

“Why aren’t I training with Orthenon? Is it because you think she’ll be a better [Warrior] than I will?”

He didn’t meant to sound hurt, but it must have come out, because Flos looked surprised as he turned towards Trey.

“Teres? Ah, well…yes.”

He blinked as Trey sagged.

“Surely you noticed, Trey? Teres is a bit more instinctual when it comes to fighting than you are. I recall seeing it the first time I sparred with you. She tried to stab me several times. Quite viciously, too.”

“So she’s got talent?”

Mars shrugged.

“Yeah.”

The combination of Flos and Mars was destroying what little ego Trey had. But Flos shook his head slightly as the young man sighed and lowered his head.

“It isn’t skill in my eyes so much as attitude. She takes to battle with a passion. You think more, Trey, which is why I decided to split you two up.”

“But why? Is Orthenon a better swordsman or something?”

The King and Mars paused. They shared a glance. To Trey’s immense surprise Flos nodded.

“Probably?”

“No he’s not.”

Mars scowled and folded her arms. Flos smiled at Trey conspiratorially.

“In truth, Orthenon isn’t a match for Mars. But his skill with a sword is—different from ours. He learned his style from a foreigner, and as such, doesn’t fight in a way that Mars or I could emulate. We learned how to fight on the battlefield and from experienced warriors. But Orthenon studied.”

“Oh.”

“He’s not better than me.”

Mars kicked at the dirt, looking stubborn and petulant. Flos sighed.

“But it is not his main class, so he is not comparable to someone like Mars whose Skills are all geared towards combat. I thought Teres would be a good pupil for him for other reasons, though. His temperament and hers are quite similar.”

“No.”

Trey shook his head instantly. He couldn’t imagine Orthenon, always calm, always polite and thoughtful, being anything like his sister. Teres could be all those things, but she got mad. But to his great surprise, Mars was nodding along with Flos.

“Orthenon? He’s got a temper alright.”

“No. You’re taking the Mickey out of me!”

“I am being quite serious, Trey. I have never known Orthenon to ever unsheathe his sword without a bit of wrath. I have seen him lose his temper on the battlefield, and it is a sight to see.”

“He gets really mad, Trey. Did you see what happened when he met Venith? He knocked him straight off of his horse with one blow!”

Mars laughed as she recounted the tale to Flos and Trey. Flos nodded.

“But he controls his temper. Well, usually. Orthenon wields his anger just as keenly as he does a blade. If he can teach that to Teres, she will benefit greatly. Or so I feel.”

Trey could just shake his head at this new revelation. He felt like he learned something new about the people around him every day. Mars slung an arm around Trey’s shoulder and laughed when he blushed.

“Don’t be too upset though, Trey! Orthenon’s not fun to practice with at all. And he’s strict! You’ll have a lot more fun with our King and me.”

“Exactly!”

Flos grinned at Trey. He and Mars laughed as they began talking about having Trey join them on morning runs around the walls, a pair of exercising loons. But Trey was stewing on what Flos had said, or rather, wasn’t saying. The King turned to Trey, smiling.

“I realize you may wish to join your sister, but she is taking the path I feel most suited towards her, and you will do best with Mars and I instructing.”

Trey stared at him and a piece fell into place in his mind.

“And you want to separate us up, is that it? You don’t want us to be together all of the time.”

Flos blinked. And then he burst out laughing as Mars stared at Trey with a look of surprise. Flos turned to her, smiling jovially.

“There, you see, Mars? Trey has seen the truth. He and Teres are valuable to me, I tell you. More valuable than you or anyone else knows.”

“I didn’t think he’d figure it out.”

Mars grinned as she eyed Trey. He felt a bit nonplussed. But Flos was nodding.

“You are right, Trey. I wished you and Teres to be apart from each other more.”

He looked at Mars, growing more serious as he gestured at Trey.

“The twins truly are a gift in my eyes. Teres speaks the truth to me. She is unafraid to point out my failures, to stand up to me in my moments of wrath and folly. But Trey is different. Trey understands how I think at times. He sees into my heart. And that is a gift worth far more than gold.”

And that was something else. When Flos said something, he meant it completely. Mars smiled at Trey as the young man turned red and tried to deny something. But then Teres came back, looking like road kill, and Orthenon joined Flos and Mars and asked what was so funny.

And the worst part was, Flos recounted the entire moment to Orthenon and Gazi with pride over breakfast. And he didn’t lower his voice, so all the servants soon heard Trey’s amazingly not-amazing bit of deduction.

In truth, Trey understood what Flos meant. He remembered the conversation they’d had, and the little secret of Flos’ poetry that apparently not even Gazi knew about. Sometimes he felt like he understood Flos, as strange as that might be.

At other times, the King was as distant and unexplainable as the stars. Like when he decided the policy of the realm. But he did try to explain himself.

After going to Manimar, Flos had changed his daily routine. He no longer strode about the castle inspecting every little detail of his kingdom. Rather, he left most of that to Orthenon, allowing the steward to inform him of notable events. Directly after breakfast he would retire to his throne room, where he would consult with his trusted vassals.

Among that number was now Lady Maresar. Regardless of whether she was present at breakfast, she would come striding into the throne room at the same time Gazi appeared, to stand before their King and listen and speak to him.

She was tall, dark, and more handsome than beautiful, but Teres had punched Trey in the side for making that joke. Lady Maresar didn’t scare Trey exactly, but she was hard to read. She didn’t speak much in her slightly slurred, deep voice, like Gazi. But when she did speak it turned out she had a sense of humor.

“It is good you sit on your throne, my King. Else we would have had to kick you off the chair you sat on yesterday.”

That had been the debate of yesterday, which had lasted two hours. Flos sat on his throne, looking down at Trey, Teres, Orthenon, Mars, Gazi and Maresar. He wore no crown, but he sat on the throne as if he belonged there.

He was a different person on that throne. Flos’ lips quirked upwards in a smile at Maresar’s words, but he did not laugh uproariously as usual. He nodded down at her.

“Your words struck a chord in my heart, Maresar. I dislike going back on my words, even those uttered in passion, but it seems many of my vassals will be weeks or months in returning to me. If at all.”

His vassals shifted at that. Orthenon crossed his arms, scowling. Gazi kept smiling. Mars scuffed at the ground with an armored foot. And Maresar nodded.

“My husband will return, my King. But he will take time, like the others. They must see that you are back not just in body, but spirit.”

“True. And I rather disliked that chair.”

Flos smiled quietly. Then he turned his attention to Orthenon.

“My steward. Inform me. What news?”

“Three more villages from Lord Venith’s lands have declared their support for you, my lord. They are travelling towards the city, carrying all they can carry. Two more in adjacent provinces have sent messengers to see you. Word is spreading like wildfire, although it appears the local [Rulers] are attempting to halt any rumors of your return.”

Flos leaned forwards on his throne.

“Have we space for these villagers? And how dangerous are the roads they travel on? I had heard word of [Brigands] and [Bandits] infesting the realms around my kingdom. They must be wiped out, saving Lady Maresar of course.”

He nodded at her. Maresar nodded back. Trey stared at her and scratched his head. Orthenon shook his head calmly.

“I have already dispatched a group of [Riders] to ensure they arrive safely. As for [Bandits], none have ever dared venture too close to the city. Unless you have information I do not, Lady Maresar?”

She shook her head as all eyes turned towards her.

“I have not talked with many, but I do not think the most daring [Bandit Lord] would dare approach your kingdom. They still remember what happened to the ones that Gazi hunted down.”

“Do you think she was a [Bandit], Trey?”

Teres whispered to Trey as the others talked about where to put the villagers in the meantime. He opened his mouth, but Maresar turned her head towards them. Orthenon broke off as she nodded to the twins.

“I was a [Bandit Lord] of renown before I was defeated and pledged my service to his majesty.”

“A bandit…lord?”

Trey stared at her. Mars grinned and laughed.

“Everyone thought Maresar was a lord, because they never saw her! That’s how she got the class, isn’t that right?”

Maresar looked disapprovingly over at Mars and shook her head.

“No. There is no [Bandit Lady] class. That is all. All leaders are known as [Bandit Lords], regardless of gender.”

“Oh.”

Mars scratched her head and blushed a bit. Flos cleared his throat and all eyes turned back towards him. He didn’t seem to mind the interruption, although Teres and Trey’s ears were red.

“What of the other cities and larger towns, Orthenon? If any would join me now, I would rest easier with their stores of grain and food added to ours.”

“Not to mention additional soldiers.”

Gazi nodded in agreement. Orthenon sighed, looking visibly annoyed.

“I have sent messengers to the cities of Rast, Belevadim, and Chalm bearing word of your return. I have yet to hear a response from any city.”

“No doubt they are considering their response. Which means their rulers deny me, or the citizens do as well.”

Flos shook his head.

“No matter. For now, continue training and drilling those who have chosen to fight. We have the makings of a decent army here, but I take it you still lack the numbers you desire, Orthenon?”

The steward nodded.

“I have a good number of veterans, some quite old. I have given them the arms that Lady Mars obtained and they will act as a strong elite force. However, the plain truth is that we lack the proper numbers for a true army, and our newest recruits are of very low level.”

“The latter problem will be solved by the first battle. As for the first…well, I shall rely on the efforts of you four to overcome any difference in numbers.”

His vassals straightened and nodded. Flos pondered for a moment and then turned to Maresar.

“Maresar, would you take those you deem fit and train with them exclusively? I would like you to lead the archers in my army. I realize that was not your role before, but in absence of any other warriors of note, I ask it of you.”

“I would be honored, my King.”

“Very well. Mars, if you will train with the newest soldiers and if both Gazi and Maresar, will assist Orthenon in drilling the army to fight as one…”

They nodded at him. Flos turned his attention to Trey and Teres.

“Orthenon does not have the time to exclusively attend to the army. Lady Maresar and Gazi have both commanded units of soldiers and small armies of their own and know what is needed. Do you understand why we must train this army, despite having veterans of countless wars?”

It was far worse than being called on by the teacher in class. Far worse. Tongue-tied, both twins shook their heads. Flos nodded, not disappointed by their honesty.

“An army must fight as one. They must learn to follow commands given out by [Strategists] or [Tacticians] as a whole, which each smaller unit of soldiers must obey. A simple command like advance or retreat requires drilling, and the most elite armies are capable of maneuvers that can change the entire battlefield.”

“I understand.”

Trey nodded. He glanced at Mars.

“Um—why wouldn’t Lady Mars train the soldiers?”

She was a [Vanguard], which was an advanced type of the [Soldier] class, Trey knew. Flos hesitated while Mars herself flushed red.

“Mars is…not suited towards leadership, Trey. She is a [Soldier], yes, but one who fights, rather than takes up the mantle of a leader.”

The other vassals shifted and didn’t quite look at Mars. Trey felt incredibly guilty, but Flos simply nodded as if he’d asked an important question.

“Each one of my vassals stands out in their own way. Mars will teach the newest soldiers, those who have never held a sword before in their life, how to fight. That is what is needed. Now, I believe there is nothing left to discuss. If Orthenon receives a reply from any of the cities, we shall meet again. Until then, I shall attend to my daily lessons with Teres and Trey.”

The audience was over. Orthenon left at speed after bowing to Flos. Gazi vanished quickly as well, and Maresar and Mars both headed towards the training grounds. And Flos stood up from his throne and smiled. Teres and Trey exchanged a glance, and they came to the oddest part of their daily routine.

Teaching Flos. Story time with the King of Destruction. Flos’ school hour. No matter how Trey said it in his head, it didn’t feel any less surreal.

But it happened. Every day. Flos would walk to his room with the twins in tow, and they would sit in his personal quarters, on the padded seats that had been placed in the room, in front of a gilded table adorned with snacks and cool drinks, and tell him about their world.

Flos settled into his chair with a sigh. He took the snack of the day from a silver platter in front of him and eyed it curiously.

“What is this I have to sample today, Teres, Trey?”

“Yorkshire pudding, I think.”

It wasn’t quite like the good stuff back home, but Trey had to admit the [Cooks] had done a pretty good job of imitating the food from a description alone. Flos listened with appreciation as Teres explained what Yorkshire pudding was, and how you ate it. With beef drippings and gravy.

“Ah, I see we have some provided for us.”

Flos reached for a gold-and-porcelain gravy boat. Trey and Teres exchanged another look. It was surreal to eat the food of their home on plates meant for royalty. But that was Flos. He wanted to try every food from their home, and so every day the kitchen staff would try to create something from earth with mixed results.

“Mm. Far better than that black pudding that was served yesterday.”

Flos chewed down three Yorkshire puddings with delight while Trey and Teres shared one. They’d just had breakfast after all. Then Flos leaned back, a cup of mulled wine in his hands, and a Yorkshire pudding in the other.

“Now, on to the most delightful moment of my day. We had talked yesterday of your world. I understand the geography, although I can scarcely comprehend that every part of your world—a round world, no less!—is mapped. I thought long about what you had told me about the nature of planets last night. Is it perhaps that the edge of the world is linked by magic to the other edge of your world?”

Teres groaned and Trey shook his head as Flos stared at them expectantly.

“No, we told you, there’s no magic in our world!”

“That you know of.”

“Yes! And we know a lot!”

“Hmm. But then, your world truly is round, and there is no edge? No…place where the ocean ends?”

“No!”

Flos shook his head in amazement as the twins shook their heads in exasperation. He had the worst hangup about some things. Flos readily and estatically accepted the idea that the moon and the stars were other planets, far, far away. He was completely happy to listen to the twins tell him that lightning could be harnessed, steam could be turned into an engine, and oil could be made into a fuel that allowed men to fly in metal birds through the sky.

It was almost incredible how easily he accepted such things, actually. But there was one thing Flos couldn’t understand.

“Yet you say your laws apply to every planet. Each one is…round.”

“Yes, Flos. But it doesn’t feel round. You can walk across the entire world, or sail, and you’d never feel it getting curved. It would feel flat, but you’d be able to go the whole way around because it’s round, you see?”

Teres took over for Trey while he sipped some water, preparing his throat for a lot of speaking. Flos scratched his head.

“I believe I understand. And yet, that is not true of this world.”

“It is!”

Exasperated, Teres’ sister glared at Flos.

“I know this world is big, but if you took a ship—look, you could calculate the earth is round by looking at the sun and shadows! People in Greece did it thousands of years ago!”

“I have no doubt you are telling me the truth. But this world is not round.”

“How do you—”

“There is an edge of the world. A place where the sea ends.”

Flos held up a hand to forestall Teres. She broke off, staring. Flos frowned.

“I have never seen it. But there have been mighty [Captains] and fearless [Sailors] and [Travellers] who have attempted to find the edge of the known world, Teres. If the world was round they would have come around the other side and said so, yes? But they do not. Out of every thousand ships that has dared to travel to the edge of the world, past Baleros, past Rhir, only one or two ever comes back.”

“Really?”

Flos nodded, meeting Trey’s gaze somberly.

“Yes. They come back screaming of a blackness which the water pours into, a place where light does not exist. The end of the world. So you tell me the world is round in your world, and I believe you. But what is true in your world is not true here.”

The twins stared at the King and felt the ground beneath them shift. A world with an end to it. Trey sat up in his chair, heart racing at the thought.

“How—how many people have seen the edge of the world? I mean, really?”

“In this lifetime? I doubt you would find more than one or two alive, if any. But those who have come back have been written of, and I have read many books which say the same. And the [Sailors] have their own tales. They believe it. As do the islanders.”

“Islanders?”

“I told you of them, did I not? They live on an archipelago, closest to that end of the world. The next time Orthenon shows you his maps, ask him to point it out to you. They know not to sail too far in one direction, less they vanish forever. And—there are stories that sometimes something comes up from that place. Things that kill all they encounter and die slowly, if at all.”

There was suddenly a bit less warmth in the room. Trey shivered. He unconsciously reached out and Teres gripped his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I have never been to the islands, so I do not know if those rumors are true. If I ever meet an islander that is not trying to kill me, I will ask. For now, let us speak of more pleasant things.”

Flos shook his head, and the dark atmosphere dissipated. He looked at the twins, and now there was excitement in his eyes.

“I asked you about the history of your nations yesterday. But do you recall what I wished to speak of today? Heroes. Tell me of your heroes and leaders, those who shook your world.”

“Okay? Um—anyone in particular?”

“The most famous ones. The bravest, the strongest—and the ones which exist only in legend.”

“What, you mean like stories? Like Hercules and—Superman?”

“Super…man?”

Flos leaned forwards, scooting his chair forwards, suddenly filled with excitement.

“There is a hero known as a Superman? Tell me about him first.”

“No—he’s a superhero. Not a real person!”

Teres held up her hands. Flos stared at her, eyes shining.

“A superhero? What is that?”

That was how Trey and Teres found themselves eating Yorkshire pudding in a palace, sitting with a [King] and telling him about Superman. Flos sat forwards, forgetting to eat or drink as he listened, enraptured, to stories about their world. He was like a child in that he demanded to hear stories of Earth, everything from the food Trey and Teres had eaten, to things like the shows they watched on telly, and what a telly actually was.

Flos was in love with the idea of comic books, of tv shows and video games when he got his head around the idea of them. He was a boy listening to tales of another world when he sat with Tres and Trey. But he was not like a child in how he reacted.

As it turned out, Flos was not interested in Superman at all, but found the idea of Batman intriguing, and Spiderman fascinating. He kept asking questions about him, and Teres, who’d read a few comics while browsing bookshops, struggled to answer properly.

“And you say these heroes exist in another world, made up in the minds of the people?”

“No. Yes! It’s a story. But there’s movies about them, books, comic books, video games, songs…”

“Songs? Sing one for me.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing. Trey, you do it.”

“Why me? You do it, Teres!”

Embarrassment over singing the Spiderman song aside, Teres found that Flos was soon bored of superheroes. When he heard that most, if not all of them had died at one point and come back to life, Flos just shook his head and asked to hear about real heroes. So they told him about the people that had conquered entire nations when they lived.

To his surprise, Trey found that Flos was not interested at all in Alexander the Great. Privately, the boy thought Flos and Alexander sounded very similar, but Flos did not enjoy the comparison.

“A [King] who failed to fulfill his dream? He wished to see the sea, did he not? And he failed? What good is his dream then? No—what sort of [King] would fail his subjects so? They shared his dream, won him victories and carried him across countless lands. But he failed them. No, I do not wish to hear of a failure such as that.”

Flos paused, and laughed shortly.

“He is too much like myself, I fear.”

The same went for King Arthur, strangely. Even though he probably hadn’t existed, he was a point of pride for Teres and Trey, that their country had claim to one of the real heroes of legend. Yet the King of Britannia pulled little weight in Flos’ books. He just muttered to himself about arrogant [Mages] when he heard about Merlin, and had to be convinced that King Arthur wasn’t just a pawn of fate. He wasn’t impressed with the act of drawing a sword out of a stone, either.

“I can do that too. What measure of a King is this?”

Trey exchanged a glance with Teres. He had no doubt Flos could actually pull a sword out of a stone, but he was at a loss as to how to explain the difference. Flos just shook his head dismissively. He looked at Trey.

“A real leader this time. Please.”

“Okay. What about…Genghis Khan?”

“Ah. That is a worthy name. Tell me of him. Or her?”

Trey had to do almost all the explaining this time. Teres didn’t remember much, so Trey had to wrack his brains for any details. Of the twins, Trey knew more about history than Teres and it was he who spoke up more when it came to people who had actually existed, rather than mythical people.

“I have fought mounted raiders like these Mongols as you describe them. It is not a pleasant experience. I could well imagine them conquering a vast portion of the world if not checked.”

Flos nodded. He looked at Trey and Teres, impressed for some reason.

“You two are well versed in the stories and history of your world. Tell me, were you scholars? How did you come to know so many tales?”

Teres shrugged.

“Our da told us a lot of stories when he’d get home from work. When he did, he’d talk with us until he fell asleep in his chair.”

She smiled and Trey grinned at her, as they remembered those happy moments. Then the smile vanished; they remembered they hadn’t seen their father in over a month. Flos cleared his throat and the twins looked at him. But he didn’t change the subject.

“I regret that I have not met him. Perhaps one day I shall. Tell me about him, if you would.”

So they did. Their father wasn’t an exciting man to them; he was a good father, but he had a steady job, a slightly boring one. Teres flushed a bit when she told Flos he was a train guard who travelled a lot and seldom came home. Trey looked down moodily and Flos noticed.

“A working job is a fine one. What is there to be ashamed of?”

Teres bit her lip. Trey tried to explain. It wasn’t that being a train guard wasn’t bad—it just wasn’t being a conductor, or a train driver. It wasn’t the worst paying job, but it was the kind of thing you could get into fights over if you went to a nice school where some kids had parents with ‘better’ jobs.

“Ah. I see.”

Flos pondered, and then shook his head.

“Actually, I fail to. I can imagine such squabbles being similar to those I have seen in courts, where the daughters and sons of the lesser aristocracy squabble with those of a higher rank…but I have not experienced that directly myself.”

Trey bit his lip, remembering he was speaking to a [King]. Flos frowned as he bit into his pudding.

“I must confess, I understand little about money. But your father works hard, does he not?”

“Yes!”

“Then he is worthy of praise. That is all I understand, and all I care to. Those who work hard should be rewarded, regardless of station.”

The twins fell silent at that. There was a dismissive tone in Flos’ voice. Not dismissive in a bad way. Just a fact. The world is the way I say it is, and so I am right.

“I note that Trey seems to know more of such figures than you, Teres. Why is that?”

“I like school and studying. That’s all.”

Trey hunched his shoulders a bit guiltily, but Flos nodded.

“What is there not to like? A place where the young may learn free of danger, in their own time. I have not encountered such a system in this world, nor thought to implement one myself. There are academies, institutions where the gifted may learn. Some to become [Tacticians], or [Knights] who serve first as [Squires]…and of course there is Wistram which trains mages and other mage schools. But never a place where all may learn, free of charge. Where all must learn. It has a certain attraction to it.”

He paused, frowned, and then sighed, suddenly dispirited.

“And yet, these ‘schools’ are dangerous in of themselves. If being a student is a class—and you seem to describe it as such, I fear I must not allow any schools to be created. At least, not as they exist in your world.”

“What? Why?”

They looked at him, surprised. Flos hesitated. He looked around the room, oddly, as if he expected someone to be listening. But Flos had banned servants from entering when they’d glared at Trey and Teres for calling Flos by his name. He looked at Trey and Teres and seemed to come to a decision after a moment of thought.

“I am a [King]. I have lived many years, and come to understand the way in which leveling works. I know secrets, Trey, Teres, of the true nature of classes and Skills. Other rulers lack my knowledge, simply because they have never reached the level I possess. I shall share one insight with you, but you must keep it secret.”

They nodded, fascinated. Flos took a breath and glanced at the door. Then he leaned forwards and whispered to the twins.

“The more classes one has, the weaker they become. Or should I say—the weaker they will become over time? What I mean is, a person with a single class will always reach a higher level than one with many classes.”

They stared at him. Teres coughed.

“No kidding?”

The King of Destruction looked bemused.

“That is an important secret! It is a secret of rulers, and why they forbid their offspring to take up common classes.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

Their cavalier response seemed to irk Flos. In truth, it made sense to Trey. He’d played videogames. He knew how such systems worked. But this was some grand piece of knowledge in this world, apparently. Flos frowned as he bit his lip.

“I admit, it is not an earthshattering secret. But what about this one? Some classes are simply better than others.”

He paused and frowned.

“No, again, perhaps better is not the right word. I can understand what I mean in my head, but out loud I struggle to explain. Let me try again.”

Flos thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Many classes are specific to one need. A [Farmer] grows crops and manages his land and his livestock. A [Weaver] creates things made of thread; a [Blacksmith] works with iron. They can expand their skillset, but a [Farmer] will never acquire skills to aid in dancing. He may well gain a Skill that allows him to defend his land in combat, or one that allows him to lead others that he might expand his helpers, or one that helps him heal injured people or animals. But he is still locked into his path, you see?”

The twins nodded. That was straightforward. Flos dipped his half-eaten Yorkshire pudding in the gravy again, which made them both stare at him. He ate it down, ignoring their looks.

“But some classes have more…opportunity. And more force in them. A [Survivor] has many Skills, but a [Lord] will have more powerful Skills, although he may take Skills from many walks of life. And a [King] stands above all other classes, one of the few that has the strongest Skills, the most powerful benefits. There are other classes, and other combinations of classes that have strength too. But if you aim to reach the highest level possible, you must know what it is you search for, not squander your strength. That is why I have prevented you from taking useless classes like [Servant] or [Warrior] without knowing what you will become. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Does this mean you know of some…combined classes?”

“A few. But I would not necessarily steer you towards such classes. In the end, you must still find what suits you. It will become obvious in time. But enough of my world. Back to yours.”

He looked expectantly at Trey. The young man scratched his head. Teres nudged him.

“What about Churchhill?”

“Oh! Right!”

They had told Flos about World War II in the broadest of terms, but he was fascinated to hear the role that Britain had played back then. However, Flos was less enamored of the great Winston Churchill, for a reason that seemed petty to Trey and Teres.

“You think his joke is bad? It’s just a comeback! ‘You are ugly, tomorrow I shall be sober and you will still be ugly. That’s not nice, but it is funny!’”

Flos shook his head, crossing his arms adamantly as Teres argued with him.

“A ruler should not speak so to his subjects, or to anyone else for that matter. Humorous it may be, but a common insult is just that. Common.”

Thereafter he completely lost interest in any more tales about Churchill, much to the twin’s private indignation.

“I have heard of great leaders, but these are your people, are they not? Tell me of your greatest enemies, those who made your nation shudder in fear. I would know of them too.”

That was a loaded question, and though one person immediately sprang into Teres’ mind, Trey had another thought. Perhaps it was inevitable that Trey thought of Gandhi. Because he was everything Flos was not.

And he fascinated the King of Destruction.

The instant Trey began telling Flos about Gandhi and what he had done—taking his home country of India back from British rule with nonviolence, with peaceful protest and the idea of passive resistance, Flos had to stand up and pace about the room. He couldn’t contain his excitement.

“That is a far better tale than any you have told me thus far. Gandhi. A name to inspire. You say he took a country, a nation without a single death? And it happened? Truly?”

Trey hesitated. Teres stared at him and they shared the same thought.

“Not exactly. I know some people died—that was when Gandhi fasted. He refused to do anything and starved himself unless people were nonviolent.”

“And they did. He held his life over the heads of his people. Magnificent.”

Flos shook his head, eyes alight with wonder.

“There were deaths. I understand. It is a consequence of leading that not all obey. But still. To do such a thing—”

He broke off. Flos had to pace around the room in his excitement.

“I am moved. I am in awe. I would like to see if I might do the same. To do what he did. But…no. Perhaps it is not the time. This British empire, your land’s rulers…they gave in because they cared that they did wrong. I regret to say that if this Mahatma Gandhi were to appear before me, he would not succeed in his quest.”

He drooped. Trey and Teres stared at him.

“What? What do you mean?”

Flos shrugged.

“Were such a man, a [Pacifist] or…no, his very name is the class, is it not? A [Mahatma]. If such a one were to appear before me, well…I would like to imagine that my people would never be so dissatisfied with my rule as to rise up. If such a person appeared before me, I believe I would be able to find some common ground. But if not, if words failed and such an opponent were to send my kingdom into turmoil, I would remove him.”

Chilling words. Trey could barely bring himself to ask.

“How?”

Flos did not immediately answer.

“There are many ways to stop such a man. I could lock him away, not for years or decades, but forever. I could send him to a far continent. Kill him? No. I would not do that. But the problem with this brave soul is that he can only exist in your world. In a place where empires and nations care for notions like morality. Were he to come here, most [Kings] would execute him on the spot. And I…would not let his rebellion pass either.”

Trey felt a shiver run down his spine. There was a grim, sad look on Flos’ face. He remembered something he’d heard once, something that had been said of Gandhi. Even he would not have known how to stop Hitler. Or was it that even he would have failed? Trey couldn’t remember what he had been told, but the thought bothered him greatly.

Flos noticed. He always seemed to notice when Trey bit his lip, or shifted.

“What have you thought of, Trey?”

The boy coughed.

“N-nothing.”

“Ah. You do not wish to tell me. Which must mean what you are concealing is important indeed. Speak…please.”

For a little while Trey resisted. But then he told Flos.

“So I remind you of a man named Hitler in some ways, do I? Who was he?”

Teres looked at Trey. He nodded, and she took a breath and looked Flos right in the eye.

“He was probably the most vile, evil man who ever lived.”

He didn’t react to the implication. He only nodded, and settled back in his chair. He was no longer smiling. Now he was listening intently.