Category: The Three Realms

The enemy fleet didn’t move. Both sides were in a state of cold war, daring the other to move. On the Endeavor, Shalvey noticed something on her console. “Captain, the Skysword, High Sky, Sand Dune, and Falchion are hailing the enemy fleet,” she reported.

“Patch us through,” ordered Arsha. Five faces appeared on screen, all of them everyone recognized.

“This is Velkor Blacktail, King of the Manticore Hegemony and Acting Captain of the CRS Sand Dune.”

“This is Tursu Molkar, Queen of the Sphinx Democracy and Acting Captain of the CRS Falchion.”

“This is Hanjar Mazula, King of the Gryphon Authority and Acting Captain of the CRS Skysword.”

“And this is Erudsa Miltarii, Queen of the Gorgon Assembly and Acting Captain of the CRS High Sky.”

“And?” asked Draysna.

“And we wish to fulfill our duty of informing you,” explained Hanjar, “that Realmfleet has designated Frigandor as under our protection according to the terms of the Treaty of the Heights signed at the end of the War of the Depths.”

“We don’t recognize Realmfleet treaties, and you weren’t supposed to either, you traitors!” snarled Draysna. “The Empire’s claim to this continent takes precedence! Leave at once!”

“You are cutting off Frigandor from the outside world,” replied Tursu. “We cannot allow our friends to be so isolated thanks to the interference of an enemy power.”

“It is our duty and pleasure,” continued Velkor, “to free Frigandor and render aid to the inhabitants.”

“Captain or General or whatever in the Depths is the Trinny title for someone like you,” Erudsa went on, “right now, I’m personally on the bridge of the toughest, fastest, and most powerful class of skyship Realmfleet has ever put into service and I’m part of a fleet under the command of a miracle-worker who knows how to get the job done. We’ve all got our mana cannons locked on your engines and nothing would make me happier than you giving Arsha an excuse to order me to flay your hide to the bone! But instead, we’re all going to you a chance to spare Arsha the headache of giving that order. So, we ask you only once, stand down.”

“Get in on the call,” Arsha ordered Shalvey. The faces on the screen then reacted as Arsha appeared on their own. “Captain Draysna, I’d take up their generous offer. I’m willing to give the order to tan your Revenant hide.” Drasyna’s comms officer then whispered something to him. He growled and thumped the armrest of his chair.

“You’re lucky I’m needed elsewhere!” he growled to his foes. “But when we meet again, you won’t be so fortunate!” His face then vanished as his part of the call ended.

“The enemy fleet is leaving!” called Malak. “Captain, the Trinnies are abandoning Frigandor!”

“Excellent decision!” praised Arsha. “All ships, stand down from red alert.” She then gave her attention to the other Captains. “Everyone, when in the Depths-?”

“When we heard the rumors that Oyed killed you,” explained Velkor, “all six of us used the Inter-realm comms still available to us to form a mutual defense compact to aid one another when the Realmgates were operational again and to try and enter Realmfleet. When assignments were available, we accepted.”

“Just because we were cut off,” chuckled Erudsa, “didn’t mean we were gonna leave Realmfleet in the lurch. You freed us from Oyed and got back from his botched attempt to kill you, and we’re supposed to repay you by sitting on our duffs?”

“Captain Royana,” called Tanta’s voice over the comms, “we are reaty to telifer ait to Frikantor. We leaf te searsh for Oyet in your hants.”

“Land all supply distribution parties,” ordered Arsha. She then turned to Shalvey. “Tell the teleporter room to standby for my strike team.”

---

The strike team consisted of Arsha, her spouses, Bashoon, and Delselii. They headed to a meeting place outside Frigandor. They waited for a few minutes until five Revenants approached them. They were a Naga woman named Eltan Sontor, a male Ice Elf named Sheendii Eltraa, a male Cecaelia named Drelta Meltrek, a female Slime named Blenter Ansii, and a male human named Entran Deltar. These Revenants died during Arsha’s first encounter with Reb Rojam and her pirate fleet, brought back after Dr. Borg restored Yulduk to life, and worked under her for only a moment until they turned on her, their pride at being Realmfleet soldiers overshadowing Dr. Borg’s desires. They became known as the Realmfleet Revenants and were used to gather enemy intelligence when they could. “Good to see you again, Eltan,” greeted Arsha.

“It’s…it’s good to…see you,” replied Eltan. “The…entrance is…this way.” Eltan then drew in a breath.

“…Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” assured Eltan in a normal talking speed. “Just needed a moment. Come on. The entrance is this way.” The Realmfleet Revenants led the team to an ice cave, then they had to catch their breath.

“Okay, no, this isn’t right,” called Arsha. “You’re exhausted somehow. Even before you were made into Revenants, you weren’t this tired. What’s going on?”

“Everything…Captain,” panted Sheendii. He then pulled back his hood to reveal that his veins and eyes were very dim. The rest of the Realmfleet Revenants pulled back their own hoods and revealed the same. Blenter had to move her core up to her head to reveal that it was in the same condition.

“I’ve never known Revenants to lose their shine,” muttered Foresna.

“It was the removal of Oyed that sparked this,” explained Blenter. “Talking to him was a key component of resurrecting us.”

“Honestly, I can’t say that I fully blame Dr. Borg,” said Drelta. “With him around, he was too dangerous to the Realms. He had already seen how his children were wired up to a draining machine targeting their Divine Mana and we’d be damned if we went out like that. We never saw it coming.”

“But every single Revenant felt it,” continued Entran. “We could feel our lives beginning to slip away, though we couldn’t place it at the time. And in that moment, that very infinitesimal second before our second death, we started drawing in mana from the air to save ourselves from dying all over again before we could see the end of the Final War. With every ounce of will power we had left, we bought ourselves time and expanded our moment of dying into weeks, maybe months.”

“But it’s like operating in a fog,” said Eltan as she wrapped up the situation. “Everything’s a little unreal and warped. I personally feel like I’m slithering through water sometimes. Then, when we use magic…we can feel our lives slipping away unless we take in massive mana infusions. The five of us are running on fumes now, since the blockade prevented us from getting more mana, but we’ve got just enough left to show you the results of what happened.” Eltan then revealed a secret keypad inside the wall and keyed in a code that opened a hidden door into a metal, yet cavernous maw of a tunnel. “This way,” directed Eltan. Everyone entered the frigid base, their wands drawn.

Arsha looked over some papers in her room at the Emboramiis’ castle. As she worked, she heard the door chime. “Come in,” she called. Reb then entered the room. “Ah, Captain Rojam, I heard you were here.”

“A DELIGHTFUL pleasure to see you,” remarked Reb as she sat on a couch opposite Arsha’s chair. A red tendril grew from her slime and idly picked up a paper Arsha had already looked at. “And what are our BLAZING yellow eyes looking over right now?”

“Reports from the front lines,” replied Arsha.

“Ah.” The room fell silent. The silence became uncomfortable. “…Doesn’t your BELOVED ship have somewhere to go?”

“…I don’t have any movement orders just yet. Orbak, Malnar, and Rellmeer are still planning which ship’s going to Frigandor.”

“I thought the fleet was heading there RIGHT now.”

“No, that’s tomorrow, at the latest.”

“Tomorrow. I see.” The uncomfortable silence returned.

“…Okay, Reb, what gives?” demanded Arsha.

“Pardon me, my DEAR Arsha?” asked the pirate woman.

“Rellmeer’s here to take down Dr. Borg’s parents from what I’ve heard. What’s YOUR angle?”

“…Well, now you force a confession from me. The truth is, Arsha, there’s someone out there with a way to end this war right now. I want to be there when they reveal how to do it and I want to make sure they hold to the mark. That may or may not involve tarsaline, given the person’s character.”

“Tarsaline? You’re joking, I hope.”

“I must admit I’m too scared to joke.”

“…My Ones, you’re serious. You’re actually scared of Dr. Borg, aren’t you?”

“Remsu, actually,” corrected Reb. “I admit that I’ve never shied away from taking a life, but it’s always been as a means to an end, to obtain the riches and power that was denied to me and my loved ones by the usual methods. I wanted to grab respect where I could.”

“And look where that got you,” scoffed Arsha.

“When I was part of the breakout of Realmfleet Max, I saw only a glimpse of Remsu’s power! And once she and the rest of the Imperial Council obtain godhood, their power will increase a thousand times over that!”

“You think they plan to destroy people that wronged them?”

“Think BIGGER, Princess!” snapped Reb. “Killing their tormentors would just be their opening act! They’ll have the power to reshape all of existence AND the will! …I made sure of that with Remsu.” Arsha arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry?”

“I contracted her for a job before she got married to Dr. Borg. She once didn’t have the stomach to kill and now she’s a vindictive woman. I feel responsible for her being what she is today. I didn’t recognize her during the breakout, but I soon discovered old files on those I contracted. Her picture and kills were QUITE prominent. I…I helped mold that monster into what she is today. …But it’s FAR from over! We still have a chance and…I can’t believe I’m saying this aloud…if we put aside our differences one last time, I can get us close to the Divine Tower! But, if we’re to survive, you’re going to need to amplify your Candidate’s Aura. The rumor is that you’re considered a Candidate for being the Divine Ones’ Champion.”

“The rumors are true and I’m trying to amplify it, but I don’t have enough mana to do so.”

“That’s a DREADFUL lie. I heard that you had that power during your first fight with the Titan! Rumor has it that it was once contained in your hairpiece!” Arsha’s eyes widened.

“What you heard about-” Arsha took her rose out of her bun- “was the pent-up rage of the ones who wore this when they misinterpreted Sorsha’s original instructions on this thing! You saw untempered power that would turn a woman into a mindless, dangerous animal!”

“And the only kind of power that has a chance against a god, should we fail to stop their ascension!”

“I will NOT use that kind of power again! It nearly killed me! It would have killed-!” Arsha stopped as she thought about Foresna, then the rest of her lovers. “No. Never again unless there’s no other way.” Reb scowled at Arsha’s refusal

“If you were TRULY picked to be our gods’ Champion, born to save the Realms, how now can you refuse their plea?” Arsha then got an idea. She looked at a report stating that there were fifty-one unknown life-signs detected in Frigandor. She grinned.

“I think I know how to beat Dr. Borg, but the first step starts in finding out who these fifty-one are if they aren’t who I think they are.”

“…The Divine Ones?”

“And Oyed. He’s the one we need to talk to. He must have some sort of weapon that was meant to destroy his children. Maybe he can help us modify it to use against the Council should they ascend to godhood.”

“Then what are we gonna do if there IS such a DREADED weapon? Ask him nicely to please let us use it and please not kill us in the process?” Arsha smirked. Reb’s sarcastic smile…faded. “…Oh, sweet Ones, we are!”

“Keep your tarsaline on standby in case Oyed says no. I have a feeling he’s gonna need it.” Reb arched an eyebrow.

---

With the Under to Mid Realmgate now repaired and synced to the Mid to Under Realmgate, the plan was set in motion. The Endeavor would lead the larger fleet to free Frigandor and get them back on their feet. When Frigandor is freed, Arsha would lead a team to find Dr. Borg’s base and see if the unaccounted life-signs were Oyed and the Divine Ones. Once done, Arsha would make her case to Oyed and convince him to join us. What those who signed the initial Blood Contract didn’t tell everyone was that Oyed was going to die one way or another. The details would be made public once Oyed was gone. As the fleet moved towards Frigandor, everyone was expecting the eventual firefight. They were rather surprised when only a few Imperial ships rose from Frigandor’s borders to meet them. “Realmfleet,” called the enemy flagship, “this is Captain Draysna. You are ordered to surrender and prepare to be boarded by order of the Realm Trinity Empire.” The Endeavor crew looked at each other in disbelief.

“They can’t be serious,” muttered Malak.

“Open a channel,” ordered Arsha.

“Channel open,” replied Shalvey. A Revenant human man’s face appeared on the screen.

“This is Princess Royana of the flagship, Endeavor. Frigandor is under Realmfleet protection. Withdraw or be destroyed.”

“Negative,” replied the Revenant. “We have authority here. Do not force us to engage your fleet.”

“Why not? There are very few of you that survived battle against a fleet this size. Their location is currently unknown, yours was made obvious by your arrival here. If you value your lives, be elsewhere.”

“Captain, something’s coming up from behind us!” called Malak.

“Can you identify?” asked Arsha.

“…They’re Shadow Dragons with Drow riders.” A relieved smile then crossed Malak’s face. “General Dotan’s leading the charge with Tanta on his back!”

“It’s been a while!” chuckled Arsha. She turned to Dalengor. “If you wish to join him, I have no qualms.”

“I’ll be back, Captain!” replied Dalengor. She then cast a teleport spell on herself and vanished from the bridge.

The Endeavor made it to the Under-realm, right above the Belsnath Citadel. Shalvey made the call. “Belsnath Citadel, this is the Skyship Endeavor, registry CRS-2784. Requesting permission to land.”

“Standby while we acquire your clearance,” replied a woman on the other end of the call. Shalvey transmitted the clearance code. “Clearance accepted! You’re cleared on Flight Path 2 for the Emboramii’s private port! Tell His Majesty and his family ‘Welcome back’!”

“Will do, Belsnath! They’ll be glad to be home!” Shalvey ended the call.

“Flight Path accepted,” called Nazay.

“Take us down,” directed Arsha. Nazay keyed in the commands and the ship descended onto the landing pad behind the Emboramii’s castle.

“Arsha,” called Orbak from the balcony overhead, “would you and your parents mind accompanying me and my family? I have a feeling you’ll be a welcome sight.”

“It would be my pleasure,” replied Arsha. She and her parents joined the Emboramiis as Malnar pushed her dad’s chair. They made it to the rear gates of the castle and made their way to the throne room.

---

Prime Minister Moggle Deksnar, an Orc man, looked over some papers while sitting on the throne. He shook his head in frustration as he examined one particular report. A guard woman then approached him. “Prime Minister, the King, his family, and the Royanas are outside the southwestern entrance to the throne room,” she reported. Moggle smiled as he stood up.

“Finally, some sense will return!” he sighed. “Let them in, not that Orbak of all people needs permission to enter his own throne room.” The guard bowed, then opened the southwestern door. The Emboramiis and the Royanas then entered the room. Moggle approached them while carrying the reports. He then knelt to the floor in front of Orbak. “Your Majesty!” he greeted.

“Good to see you again, Moggy!” chuckled Orbak.

“…Didn’t exactly miss that,” remarked Moggle. “You look great, my Lord.”

“I guess we’re both cripples now, huh?”

“Yeah, we are.” Moggle pulled his robes back a bit to reveal his cybernetic legs. “Your Majesty, we need your clarity and Arsha’s miracle-working abilities something fierce here.” He handed everyone the reports. “I’ve been studying these reports from the fronts. Note the plural form.”

“I thought we only had the Frigandor front to worry about,” muttered Elgrad.

“Initially, yes, but another front cropped up during your trip through the Realmgate vortex, focused on Crelima City’s northern border.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard about what’s going on in Frigandor,” interjected Arsha.

“A blockade, mainly. The Realm Trinity Empire set up their new base of operations there and used the population as their hostage. They cut off any elements of power. Heating, refrigeration, timekeeping, communications with the outside world, transport, you name it, it’s been cut off. We’ve made multiple attempts to give supplies and generators, but the Empire shot the ships down, killed the survivors, and took the supplies for themselves, leaving Frigandor with only the scraps.”

“Haven’t there been any evacuation orders?” asked Elmpam.

“Many. All of them were intercepted and then all attempts to leave were thwarted whether by imprisonment or by death. The Realmfleet Revenants, Arsha’s old crewmates that died at Plunder Island Stronghold, have reported that Dr. Borg will be doing the same to Crelima City as she did to Frigandor.”

“This isn’t like her,” muttered Arsha. “That’s now three civilizations that experienced or are experiencing being held as a hostage. Ever since Oyed went dark, the Trinnies’ aggression has been unfocused, making her an easy target.”

“Arsha?” asked Orbak.

“Wouldn’t this be a good thing?” quizzed Elgrad.

“No, she’s more put together than this,” said Arsha. “This feels like a distraction.” Arsha’s eyes then lit up. “Is she even counting on the bulk of our ships once being stuck in the Mid-realm?”

“Someone’s got an idea,” chuckled Malnar.

“We first need to fix the Under to Mid Realmgate and sync it with the Mid to Under Realmgate. Once that’s done, two fleets can easily get through. A smaller fleet will give aid to Crelima City along its southern shores and gather intelligence on the Empire’s movements while the larger fleet can rout any enemy forces in Frigandor and give aid to the people while also gathering any intelligence they can.”

“Malnar and I will focus on divvying up the ships,” called Orbak. “We’ll tell you when we’ve drawn up the plans.” A guard then rushed in.

“Your Majesty! Two more ships just came out of the Under to Over Realmgate!” he reported. “It’s the Majestic and the Divine Revenge! They’re requesting permission to land here!”

“Rellmeer and Reb?” asked Arsha. “What are they doing here?”

“Allow them to land,” ordered Orbak. “I have a feeling things are about to get real messy real fast.”

---

Rellmeer and Reb Rojam were escorted to the throne room as Orbak sat on the throne while his wheelchair stood by it. The two women bowed to him. “Rellmeer, there’s no need for YOU of all people to bow,” said Orbak. “Please, both of you, rise.” The women rose. “What brings you here?”

“We’re hunting down two terrorists,” explained Rellmeer.

“Specifically,” continued Reb, “the parents of that VILE Dr. Borg.”

“They’re enemies of the Fae Republic,” supplied Rellmeer, “and have made numerous attempts to my throne.” Her expression darkened. “On top of that, they have taken my beloved husband’s life! They would have killed every girl in my harem had Reb not intervened when she did.”

“I only regret not saving Emperor Embrek in time,” sighed Reb, dropping her verbal tic in shame.

“And you tracked them here?” asked Orbak.

“Every TINY scrap of intel says that Mama and Papa Borg are with their HEINOUS daughter and her spouses right now, LOUDLY cheering them on to godhood!”

“So, she’s not unloved by her parents, there goes THAT backstory. Arsha and I owe Lardeth 500 golds.”

“The Borg family is a very loving family,” replied Rellmeer. “They always believed that they and those they bring into the family are the superior beings. Dr. Borg’s grab for power is vindication for them.”

“Well, let’s cut that vindication short,” declared Orbak. “Empress, would you mind joining Malnar and I in battle-planning?”

“I would be honored, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, Captain Rojam?”

“Yes, my GRACIOUS King?”

“Arsha’s here. You might want to get your hellos with her out of the way.” Reb flinched.

“I’ll…get right on that,” she mumbled.

The Mid to Under Realmgate was the one of the pair that was given top priority, so it was completed first. Like last time, a comms probe was constructed. Everyone on the Endeavor manned their stations. “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” declared Arsha, “just like last time. Shalvey, transmit opening instructions to the Realmgate.”

“Transmitting instructions,” confirmed Shalvey. “…It’s received them and is ready to open on your command.”

“Nazay, open it.”

“Opening.” Once Nazay keyed in the command, they waited three seconds before the familiar vortex of colors appeared.

“Elmar, status of the comms probe.”

“Comms probe is ready to launch at your command,” reported Elmar.

“Malak, calculate distance from our position to the other side of the portal for it to land. Endea, refine those calculations.”

“Calculating,” replied Malak. “…Initial calculations complete.”

“Refining,” reported Endea as her eyes turned white. “…Final calculations complete.”

“Launch probe.”

“Launching,” reported Orthena as she pressed a button on her console.

---

A small device was launched from the Endeavor’s starboard bow torpedo tube. It sailed through the air and entered the vortex.

---

“Probe is inside Realmgate vortex,” reported Melandra.

“Here we go again,” muttered Denstra.

“Hey, Bashoon,” called Arsha.

“Yes, Captain?” asked Bashoon.

“Got another shanty stuck in your head? I think we could use the entertainment.”

“You familiar with Leave her, Marzii?”

“I LOVE that shanty!” called Malak. That seemed to be the general consensus of the crew.

“I’ll count us off then!” offered Arsha. She then slapped the armrest of her chair in a slow rhythm and the bridge crew began to sing.

“I thought I heard the shipmaster say

Leave her, Marzii, leave her!

Tomorrow, ye will find sun rays

And it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Marzii, leave her!

Oh, leave her, Marzii, leave her!

For the voyage is long and the clouds don’t roll

And it’s time for us to leave her!” Just then, Shalvey’s console lit up.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she called, “but we’re getting a transmission!”

“Can you identify it?” asked Arsha.

“Doing so now…same results as last time! It’s the probe on the other side of the vortex! Audio-only!”

“Put it through. And call the Emboramiis up here. I have a distinct feeling they’re gonna want to hear this.”

“Already here,” called Malnar as she and Elmpam wheeled Orbak onto the bridge. The instant they took their places, a weary man’s voice came through

“This is Moggle Deksnar, Prime Minister of the Under-realm,” revealed the man. “Political i.d. 1-1-0-1. Your probe came out of a vortex over the Belsnath Citadel. The Over-realm did the exact same thing, and we synced our Under to Over Realmgate to their Over to Under Realmgate, so I presume this probe came from the Mid-realm?”

“You presume correctly, Moggy!” chuckled Orbak. “This is Orbak Emboramii, King of the entire Under-realm, political i.d. 0-3-9-7!”

“Your Majesty!” cheered Moggle. “Thank the Ones you’re here! My native Frigandor needs your help the most!”

“Frigandor?! Tell me when I get there on the Endeavor! It will be docking at my private port!”

“Understood! It’s great to hear from you again after all these months!”

“And your service to the throne will be rewarded when I get there! Orbak out!” The call ended.

“Nazay, take us through! All possible haste!”

“All possible haste; aye, Captain,” confirmed Nazay.

---

Meanwhile, in Frigandor, the Realm Trinity Empire was closing up shop. The equipment had been hauled into all the transports and the armed forces were going through final checks. Dr. Borg smiled at the efficiency being displayed. They were actually ahead of schedule. “Hey, Doctor!” called Femfaf.

“Yes?” asked Dr. Borg.

“Shall we have the Divine Ones and Oyed prepared to move as well?”

“…You know, I almost forgot about them. Thank you for reminding me that they’re here. To answer your question, why should we bring them? What would be the point? What would be the tactical advantage? They might put aside their differences and team up against us, giving Realmfleet victory over us. No, close down all heating elements and food stores. Have them freeze or starve to death here.”

“As you wish.” Femfaf headed off to obey Dr. Borg’s orders. As she did, Dr. Borg’s spouses and adopted daughter arrived.

“This is it!” cheered Jansha. “We’re gonna be gods!”

“I was thinking of being a naughty god,” mused Remsu.

“You’re naughty anyways,” chuckled Dr. Borg, “but it’s one of the reasons why I love you.” Her smile then faded as a thought hit her. “…We need to prepare to say goodbye to our families.”

“It’s only a ‘see-you-later’,” said Shefarn. “We’ll see them again in the After-realm.”

“I suppose. Though, it WILL be long after they…pass on. That will take many years, even for beloved Fae like my own parents. They ARE stripping themselves of their immortality, but it will be 40,000 more years of natural life before we meet them again.”

“Yeah, not the most pleasant aspect,” agreed Tensam. “So, we have to do what we can and answer their prayers. Gotta take time out of our future busy schedules as gods somehow.” Dr. Borg smiled again.

“I guess that WILL ease the separation.” As Dr. Borg finished, everyone shivered. “Femfaf works fast!”

“I didn’t think I’d feel cold,” remarked Jansha, “yet here I am!”

“Scorpo’s waiting for us,” remarked Remsu as she rubbed her arms. “I see no reason in delaying him.”

“Neither do I,” agreed Dr. Borg. “We better go.” They headed off to the shipyard.

---

They entered the Scorpion’s bridge two minutes after their conversation. The rest of the Imperial Council was already there, manning their stations. Dr. Borg and her family assumed their posts. Dr. Borg eased herself into the Captain’s Chair, then smirked. “Mr. Scorpo,” she began, “set course for the Divine Tower.”

“Course already laid in,” replied Scorpo.

“The fleet’s ready to move at your order,” called Remsu at the Comms Station.

“The order is given! Scorpo, onward!”

“Aye-aye, Doctor!” He keyed in the necessary command and they all felt the Scorpion move upwards and forwards to the desert of the Under-realm’s Eastern Continent.

With two Realmgates being rebuilt, it was taking a considerable amount of time to get the ships stuck in Rokanth back in the air and into ports to give the Halflings some breathing room. The Halflings were eager at the prospect of getting some form of normality back. As the sun rose for the new day, an alarm rang in Delselii’s quarters. He snorted as the noise woke him up, then groaned as he was reoriented to an extent. His arm simply slapped the nightstand until it hit the alarm button. The noise stopped and Delselii yawned. He swung the sheets off him, then sat up with his feet resting on the floor. Something felt off to him, but he decided he would think about it when he had his coffee. He got up and put his foot forward…then promptly fell to the floor. When he recovered, He sat up and started asking himself questions along the lines of “Why did I fall?”, “Am I sick?”, and “Why can’t I feel my right foot?” That last question alarmed him. He never usually thinks that in the morning. He looked down and did the only thing one could do in his situation…scream in abject terror.

---

Markulak’s recharge cycle ended. He was looking forward to the day, especially since he got actual quarters and met the Three Maidens themselves! With the Robot Liberation Front ready to find more allies, he anticipated a quick end to the Final War. “Hello, Endeavor and crew!” he sighed happily to himself. “Today is a brand new-!” He then fell to the floor. Questions like Delselii’s raced through his mind, only the last question concerned his left foot. He looked down and, like Delselii, screamed at what he saw.

---

After breakfast, Arsha made her way to the bridge. She saw Denstra, Shalvey, Nazay, Thangred, Endea, and a robot shaped like a dome with five long, spindly legs helping it move. It had five metal tendrils with five-digited pincer claws on each end to grasp and manipulate things. “Mr. Rultanga,” called Arsha, “how’s life on the ship treating you?”

“I am fully operational, Captain,” replied the robot, Rultanga.

“He’s been a perfect night-shift engineer,” praised Thangred. “Good thing we met him. Though, his emotions could use work.”

“What do you mean?” asked Arsha.

“He means that I do not have any emotions yet,” explained Rultanga. “It has been the dream of my previous iterations to have them. Markulak is in the process of teaching me to have emotions, starting with humor.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Arsha. “How did he start?”

“He introduced me to a concept called a ‘prank.’ He had decorated my main body in a pink color, and he attached stickers on areas he had missed. After a few crew members laughed and explained what he did, Markulak said that I was now obligated to ‘get even with them’.”

“You need to prank him now, hm?”

“I have already done so, him AND Delselii while I thought about it.”

“Whoa, wait a minute!” Arsha was a little apprehensive. “There ARE some unwritten rules of pranking and one of them is-!”

“RULTANGA!” roared Markulak’s voice as he and Delselii hopped onto the bridge, each missing a leg! The crew, sans Rultanga, cried out in surprise.

“What in the Depths?!” shrieked Endea.

“What happened to your legs?!” yelped Thangred.

“HE-” Markulak pointed an accusing finger at Rultanga- “amputated them while we were sleeping!”

“Ha ha. Got you,” replied Rultanga.

“WHAT?!” asked Delselii.

“I have retaliated against you and pranked Delselii in the process. That is my practical joke.”

“This isn’t a joke, you psychopath!” shouted Markulak. “You dismembered us AND you dragged an innocent guy into this!”

“I am confused. You said to be creative, and you said to do it when you least expected it. You also said to try pranking other people. I have adhered to all three directives. I DID use anesthesia on Delselii on the chance he would wake up while I tried to prank him.”

“Rultanga, you took their legs in the middle of the night?!” demanded Arsha.

“Of course, Captain Royana. It would not do to try such a joke during the day when they are more alert.”

“Well, where in the Depths ARE they?!” wailed Delselii.

“If you are referring to the legs, I have hidden them. With the tracker installed in Markulak’s leg, you should be able to find it in a ‘humorous’ location, considering their importance to you.”

“You piece of s***!” snarled Markulak as he and Delselii jumped as menacingly as they could towards Rultanga. The bridge crew rushed to hold them back as they uttered all sorts of threats, ranging from scrapping Rultanga to unplugging him during recharge.

“Mr. Markulak, can you find the tracker’s frequency?” asked Arsha.

“Yes, but-!”

“Revenge can wait! It’d take some pressure off my mind if you just searched for your legs. Endea, Thangred, help them find their legs…never thought I’d give that order in my lifetime.”

“Aye, Captain,” replied Endea as she and Thangred led Delselii and Markulak off the bridge.

“You’re sick!” snarled Markulak. “I mean it! There’s something really wrong with you!”

---

“Teaching an unemotional robot that understands the concept of unwritten rules as well as a non-Sentina snail does about a prank war?!” Marshii barked at Delselii once his and Markulak’s legs were located and they were taken to Sick Bay and Main Engineering respectively. The elderly Mermaid was sewing Delselii’s leg back on as she griped “What were you thinking?!” She jabbed the needle into Delselii’s stump and brought it out below the seam, like she was fixing up trousers. The procedure is not exactly a pleasant one for a Homunculus, forcing the poor patient to yelp whenever they feel the needle enter their flesh.

“First off,” grunted Delselii, “I DIDN’T teach Rultanga about a prank war!”

“From what Bashoon told me during her physical,” Marshii jabbed the needle again, eliciting a yelp from the Homunculus, “you suggested it to Markulak! I’d say that makes you equally as culpable!”

“Come on, I didn’t tell Markulak to actually do it!”

“Well, you STILL should have stopped him!” Another jab, another yelp. Marshii finished up her work. “There, all done! Now, wiggle your toes.” Delselii did so. They responded to his brain’s signals immediately. “Now get up and try to walk.” Delselii got up from the cot and walked around the room as if nothing happened to him. “We’re done here,” declared Marshii.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“If you REALLY want to thank me, don’t come in here while holding one of your detached limbs! It takes DAYS for people to stop laughing at the poor doctor who has to add this to her daily logs and transmit them to Realmfleet!” Delselii sighed and walked out of Sick Bay.

Over in Frigandor, Dr. Borg was waiting on the latest progress report concerning Largandra. “Come on!” she groaned. “When’s Kartambo gonna take the throne?!” Just then, her console beeped. She pressed a button. “Yes?”

“Mother, it’s bad!” replied Jansha’s voice. “A bunch of duplicates have been activated from multiple robot lines, the same lines we sent to Largandra’s wall.”

“Their duplicates have been activated? What for?”

“They’re experiencing activation confusion right now. I have a feeling you need to oversee this personally.”

“On my way.” Dr. Borg ended the call and left the room rubbing her temples. She had a feeling a headache was fast approaching. She made it to the induction room, a place where new robots are familiarized with the Empire and duplicates are given their previous models’ code and memories. Jansha was at work on a console, keying in commands.

“Still parsing the data from the previous models,” she reported. “…Got it.” A feared silence filled the room. “…I don’t believe it.”

“What?” asked Dr. Borg.

“Our robots in Largandra have followed Markulak: Model 7’s example and defected to Realmfleet! Temnasia: Model 4 executed Markulak: Model 8 as he was about to kill his predecessor! They helped a strike team set up explosives within the wall, then evacuate civilians to safer areas within AND without Largandra! Trosalga: Model 90 was the one who detonated the bombs! These bots are descendants of traitors!” Dr. Borg was trembling with rage.

“Order all loyal forces to pull back to the Under-realm!” Jansha looked at the Cyborg Sprite.

“We’ll be boxed in before we find the tower!”

“There will be no more running after this! We should have examined the robots more closely so we could rid ourselves of traitors before they even think of rebellion!” Dr. Borg turned to Temnasia: Model 5, quivering in fear like her compatriots.

“Doctor, if we could talk to our predecessors,” she suggested, “get them to change their minds-!”

“Perhaps you could reawaken their patriotic spirit?” guessed Jansha.

“Exactly!”

“On the other hand,” remarked Dr. Borg, “they’re just as likely to convince you to betray us.”

“Us?! Betray you?! Never!”

“You’re right, because you won’t live to get the chance! Jansha, activate Protocol Ten on these rejects!” Protocol Ten is not a phrase robots want to hear. Upon the protocol’s activation, all duplication programs are deleted from the target’s line and the luckless robot automatically reports to the nearest smelter’s yard. Their identification codes are deleted as well so other robots, especially ones working the yards, see them as mere raw materials. Temnasia: Model 5 pled on behalf of her and her fellows.

“Dr. Borg! Jansha! Wait! You’re making a terrible mistake!”

“That’s where you’re wrong!” replied Jansha.

“But our lines have done everything you have asked of us! I tell you, we’re loyal! We believe in the Empire! Jansha! Please! Don’t do it!” Jansha pressed a button on the console and the robots began filing out of the room, pleading for her to undo Protocol 10. The last robot left, and the door shut behind it. Dr. Borg sat down on a crate and put her head in her hands.

“Did we go too fast?” she asked.

“Mother?” asked Jansha.

“Did we drain the Divine Mana too early? Our Revenants are weakening, and robots are betraying us. What next, the Golems betray us?” Just then, a male Golem entered the room, beaming with pride.

“My Creator!” he called. “We found it!” Dr. Borg arched an eyebrow, then her normal eye widened in hope.

“A Divine Tower?!”

“Yes, Doctor!” confirmed the Golem. “It’s in the desert of the Under-realm’s Eastern Continent! Right at the northern shores!”

“What’s your name?” asked Dr. Borg as she smiled.

“Grabben, Dr. Borg.”

“Mr. Grabben, you and your team will be rewarded for this joyous news! Report to the meeting hall in two hours! Before we depart, every single one of you will be rewarded with the Medal of the Trinity Star!”

“We simply did our duty, Ma’am.”

“And that dedication is what earned you that medal! Congratulations, Mr. Grabben!” They shook hands and Grabben left the room.

“Finally,” sighed Jansha happily when the door shut, “some good news at last.”

“Have our forces be ready to leave in three hours,” ordered Dr. Borg.

“At once, Mother. Shall I order for the Divine Ones and Oyed to be moved as well?”

“No. They won’t witness our ascension. Leave them to rot here in Frigandor.”

“Yes, Mother.”

---

Meanwhile, in a private chamber, Oyed was strapped to the wall as a robot kept shoving pizza slice after pizza slice into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but the robot wouldn’t let him. Yulduk entered the room. “Ah, when the stars align!” he cheered.

“Sir?” asked the robot.

“We found a Divine Tower!” answered Yulduk.

“Perfect! I’ll have Oyed prepped for-!”

“No, we’re leaving him and his children to freeze here. They won’t get to watch us become gods. How’s Oyed doing, anyways?”

“Yulduk, you miserable, rotten traitor!” growled Oyed. “I will have my reveGAHGHAHAGH!” Another slice of pizza was shoved into his mouth.

“Fabulous,” chuckled Yulduk. “He’s never looked better! Gotta say, ‘Master’, your normal eyes really do wonders for social interactions. I can’t fathom why mist always seeped out of them, but, oh well. Honestly, you being drained was the best thing for morale, really. With you mobile and prattling on about your endgame, it felt like we all married our mother! …Not that I…ever thought about that.”

“Stealing my Divine Mana and blending it with my children so you could take their places!” snarled Oyed. “That’s low, even for you and Dr. Borg! But why am I being force-fed pizzARGHA!” Another slice was shoved into his mouth.

“Oh, I just wanted to be mean. You’re never going to eat pizza gain at this rate! Imagine that, life without pizza!”

“YOU FIEND!”

“Gotta give some instructions, BRB.” Yulduk turned to the robot. “We’re moving out in three hours. Once I leave, you have two minutes to continue force-feeding Oyed. Once your two minutes are up, join us in getting things packed up.”

“Understood, Lord Yulduk,” said the robot. Yulduk grinned.

“‘Lord Yulduk.’ You know, I think I’ll stick with that when I ascend. Nice and simple, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It WOULD be easier on the vocalizer.”

“Then that’s settled! Lord Yulduk, it is! Now…” Yulduk then picked up a slice that had fallen out of Oyed’s mouth and onto the floor, “it looks like little Oyed’s hungry!”

“Oh, gross!” gagged Oyed. “It’s got carpet fuzz on it! I’LL DESTROY YOU FOR THISHGHRAGH!” Yulduk shoved the slice into Oyed’s mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘destroy us for this!’ I’m not the one chained to the wall here, Oyed! Yulduk out!” The Flame Elf Revenant snapped his fingers in a sassy manner and sauntered out. Once the door shut, the robot grabbed another slice.

“Please! No more! HAVE MERCIAGHERGH!” The robot made itself deaf to Oyed’s protests as it continued its job, enjoying being able to do that to the former Titan.

It was almost dawn when Arsha finally got to see Kartambo. A human man, roughly Arsha’s skin tone, was dragged in by Irmalii. He arched an eyebrow at seeing Arsha on the throne with Domesta and Dumarith’s bottle on the armrest. “Ah, Mr. Kartambo!” greeted Arsha. “I see Irmalii found you! Good! You’re looking healthier than I remember, got yourself cured of your bone disease?”

“My bones have never been stronger, Your Highness,” replied Kartambo. “What’s going on here? Last I checked, that was your father’s seat.”

“Where, exactly, was that statement when Skain polluted the throne? Did your own ambitions and Dr. Borg’s goals get in the way?”

“…Well, that answers my private question about you being an illusion. Only the real Arsha Royana would pry into someone’s private business. So, you really ARE alive and back. I take it your parents are here too?”

“They’re in Daddy’s office, going over the situation reports so they can fix this mess. I’m simply helping them take care of the wall.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What in the Depths is going on, Your Highness?” Arsha got up and walked to him.

“Skain initially built the wall to keep the citizens of Largandra as his prisoners. He allowed Dr. Borg’s robots to live there so the people would live in fear of the outside world. …Skain’s assets are being seized and liquidated before his execution so the funds would be used to rebuild the homes the wall destroyed in its construction, but it’s not enough. We still need to tear that ugly thing down, so I’m giving you a choice. You can fund the remainder willingly as the wall falls, or we take every single asset of yours and liquidate it while you languish in the dungeons for the rest of your life. Let me assure you, there won’t be any execution for you, nor will you kill yourself if you refuse to help.” Kartambo smirked.

“Largandra has a population of fifty million. Only two percent of it are fighters. Dr. Borg’s personal edict is that the Empire does not attack a population of ten percent fighters unless provoked. The wall stays, one way or another.” Arsha looked long and hard at him.

“…You’re afraid, aren’t you?” she guessed. “You’re afraid of failing Dr. Borg as much as she fears losing to us.” She then snapped her fingers as if she remembered something. “Speaking of the Empire, we need to ensure that we can talk privately. …Don’t move. Mr. Markulak, if you please.” Markulak then sprang from behind the throne and swung his sword near Kartambo’s neck on each side. He actually took the heads of two humanoid robots that were invisible until their deaths. He then sheathed his sword as the bottle flashed. Arsha rubbed it and released Domesta and Dumarith. “Fine work, Mr. Markulak,” praised Arsha.

“Part of my job description, Your Highness,” replied Markulak. “I’ll clean it up.”

“There’s no need,” assured Domesta.

“WE’LL take care of the mess,” supplied Dumarith. “Your Highness, if you please?” Arsha then took up the bottle.

“I wish for the robot corpses and their spilled fluids,” she declared, “to be removed from this castle.” The two Genies snapped their fingers and the mess disappeared.

“You’ll have to tell the Telmath Forge in the north end of town about their sudden increase in materials,” advised Domesta.

“Will do,” replied Arsha.

“You’re insane!” growled Kartambo. Arsha glowered at him.

“On any other day, Mr. Kartambo, you’d be wrong. Today, though, after what the reports said about your activities? Today is a VERY different day! One last time; assist in the destruction of the wall or be reduced to utter destitution!”

“No on both counts. Despite what you think of what or who I fear, you DON’T frighten me. No Royana does. If you attack the wall, you’ll lose.”

“Yes, the weapons dotting the wall are very impressive against targets in the air and on the ground, but at this moment, they’re pointed outside the wall.”

“The external perimeter, yes. But that wall has weapons concealed within the inner wall, ready to quell any uprisings. So, what are you gonna do? Blow up the wall?”

“That’s the idea, yes.” Kartambo chuckled softly to himself.

“Did you conduct a material analysis of the wall’s bricks?”

“I was told that the same clay that makes up Dr. Borg’s Golems was used to make the bricks, yes.”

“Meaning that, even if you DID set up explosives, you couldn’t send a signal to the det-packs. So, what can you do, hope that there’s a robot stupid enough to press the button?” Arsha sighed to herself.

“…Mr. Markulak, tell Trosalga that he can press the button.”

“…Yes, Your Highness.” Markulak’s eyes flashed as Kartambo realized that there was another rebellious robot!

“NO!” he wailed. The guards grabbed him before he could get any closer. Explosions reached everyone’s ears and the castle rocked from the tremors. The shaking lasted for a minute before everything settled down. A call then came through.

“The wall is gone,” came Temnasia’s voice. “…As is Trosalga.”

“He died to save us,” sighed Arsha. “Let us continue to win in his name.” She turned to Kartambo. “Mr. Markulak’s defection inspired other robots to rebel against Dr. Borg. They evacuated the area near the wall during the night. I wanted to meet every member of the Robot Liberation Front. I had hoped you would be reasonable so I could see Trosalga, but…here we are.” She turned to the guards. “Take him to the dungeon. Make sure he stays alive. Seize his lands and assets and liquidate them. Put it towards the reconstruction of the homes on Largandra’s borders.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” replied a guard. He and his partner then hauled Kartambo to the dungeon. He resisted long enough to shout at Arsha as she sat on the throne.

“YOU JUST MADE A BIG MISTAKE, ARSHA ROYANA! EVEN IF WE LOST LARGANDRA, THE REALM TRINITY EMPIRE HAS ALLIES! WE’LL MAKE SURE THAT EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN ALL THE REALMS PAY THE PRICE FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE TODAY!” The group rounded a corner and his protests vanished. The sun finally peeked over the horizon.

“What I’ve done?” Arsha asked herself. “When it comes to Dr. Borg, I haven’t even started.” Elgrad then entered the throne room. Arsha stood back up. “That’s enough of that throne for me right now! You can have it back!”

“Still, a very fine command of the situation,” praised Elgrad. “You rose to the challenge and knew when to step back so others can act. That’s what a good ruler does.” He sat on the throne. “…Tell me, how comfy is it for you?”

“A little TOO comfy for me.”

“That’s the correct answer. You’ll be a fine Queen when your mother and I step down.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Now, I better go help out Rokanth. Those ships need to be relocated.”

“Good luck, Sweetie!” replied Elgrad. Arsha pecked Elgrad on the cheek and headed out of the throne room. Elgrad then turned to Markulak. “Mr. Markulak, how would you like to be an advisor?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave the position once we have the Mid to Under Realmgate working,” replied Markulak.

“Very well. Until then, log yourself into the appointments database. Use 7-1-4-6 for the password.” Markulak connected to the database and logged in.

“I’m in, Your Majesty.”

“What’s first on the docket?”

“The woman that met with Skain last night is requesting an audience with you on the subject of obtaining food for her family.”

“Is she still on castle grounds?”

“She’s just gotten up from her bed.”

“Tell her to come to the throne room at her earliest convenience. She may obtain the necessary food for her family from our storehouses.”

The showers had to be shared with everyone. Thankfully, they were big enough for four people to share so the strike team could wash the sewer stench off all at once. As Orbak took his armor off, thus cancelling the enchantment and returning his legs to their paralyzed state, the three mystery Elves helped maneuver him into the large stall. “Very kind of you,” he thanked them.

“Think nothing of it,” replied the plump Elf.

“You know, the other showers are full,” remarked one of the other two Elves.

“You don’t mind sharing with three women, do you?” asked the other.

“Ah, so you’re women,” mused Orbak. “Just as long as there’s no hanky-panky.”

“That dedicated to your wife?” asked the plump Elf.

“Exactly.”

“Well, no worries, we’ll be too preoccupied on getting the sewer smell off of us to even consider hanky-panky.”

“Perfect.” The Elves then started undoing their armor, helmets first. They finally revealed their faces and Orbak goggled. The plump Elf woman had short, curly, blonde hair. One of the other Elves had long, black hair with her bangs cut like a sugar bowl was used as a guide for the scissors. The other one had long, wavy, red hair. “No way!” breathed Orbak. “Moru?! Larima?! Curlandii?!”

“That’s us,” replied the black-haired Elf, Moru.

“The Three Maidens themselves joined in on this operation!” chuckled Orbak. “But why?”

“Because that rat, Skain, was my cousin,” explained the red-haired Elf, Larima. “He passed an edict saying that we NEEDED to make comedies about darker-skinned people ‘learning their place’.”

“You can guess how well we took that,” continued the blonde Elf, Curlandii.

“Besides, we make comedies where we fight the Trinnies,” said Moru. “We took some training and figured ‘what the heck, we’ll fight them for real’.”

“Why’d you hide your faces?” asked Orbak.

“Would Arsha have taken us seriously if we went to her without our masks?”

“…Fair point, she might have dismissed it out of hand. Well, your service was most welcome, ladies! If you still wish to fight, once Orbak settles things here, we’re building the Mid to Under Realmgate and taking the fight straight to Dr. Borg!”

“Your Majesty, we’d be honored!” cheered Curlandii. She ‘carelessly’ tossed the scrub brush at Moru. Moru yelped as it hit her. She grabbed Curlandii’s shoulder and turned her around so she could face her.

“Remind me to kill you later!” she growled, continuing the improv routine.

“I’ll make a note of it,” said Curlandii. She then patted her pockets. “I ain’t got a pencil!”

“Well, I changed my mind! I’m gonna do it right now!” Moru then grabbed Curlandii’s nose and then bonked it with her other fist.

“Hey, leave her alone!” called Larima.

“What are you butting in for?!” Moru extended her pointer and middle fingers and jabbed them at Larima’s eyes, but Larima blocked the eye poke. Moru then grinned. “Well, blocked me that time.” She then slapped Larima’s cheek. “Get out, you!” Curlandii then tapped Moru’s shoulder. When Moru turned to her, Curlandii waved her hand in front of Moru’s face, making her follow it. Curlandii then brought the hand up, then sharply dropped it, making Moru follow it. Larima laughed.

“You always fall for that!” she giggled. Moru then struck their bellies, then their heads.

“GO ON! GET STARTED ALREADY!” Moru grabbed their ears and dragged them to a locker so they could put their clothes in them. Orbak laughed.

“Even in times of war, you still know how to bring the funny!” he called. The Three Maidens then bowed comically, bonking their heads in the process.

---

Everyone in the castle finally finished their showers, reveling in being clean. Elgrad made his way to the office and looked over the reports concerning Largandra. He clicked his tongue in irritation. Skain left things in a fearful mess and Elgrad had to clean it up. He had to take down the wall, rebuild homes that were destroyed during the wall’s construction, destroy the robots within the wall, restore supply lines, get the ships moving again, and rebuild the Mid to Over and Mid to Under Realmgates. Arsha came into the office. “Hey, Daddy, did you know that those Elves that helped us were actually the Three Maidens?” she asked.

“Yeah, Orbak told me about that when he was brought to a wheelchair by them,” answered Elgrad. Arsha then saw the reports.

“Oh, Sweet Ones! Look at this mess!”

“My sentiments exactly. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Need any help?”

“…Now that you mention it, I think this would be a good chance for you to try out the throne. Do you think you can handle the Kartambo situation?”

“I’ll give it a good try.” Just then, the comms buzzed. Elgrad took the call.

“Go ahead,” he directed.

“It’s Lardeth, Your Majesty,” introduced the caller.

“Your lover’s in the room with me.”

“Hey, Princess!” called Arsha.

“Good to hear you, Foxy,” replied Lardeth. “We just got some great news. It turns out Markulak’s defection to us inspired other robots to form the Robot Liberation Front. A good chunk of the robots at the wall are with us just outside Largandra’s borders. However, a few are staying behind until you give the order for the wall to be destroyed. They wanted to give their lives for us instead of Dr. Borg.” The two Royanas looked at each other in surprise.

“Markulak’s more effective than I thought!” muttered Arsha.

“Tell them to wait for Arsha’s order,” directed Elgrad. “She’s got to get a handle on Kartambo right now.”

“Your advisor? Don’t tell me he didn’t protest Skain’s defiling of the throne!”

“It looks like he encouraged it for his own gains,” answered Arsha. “He was gonna publicly embarrass Skain and then take the throne, then have Largandra pledge fealty to the Trinnies. Only then would the wall come down.”

“Well, the Robot Liberation Front’s more than happy to upend that scheme. We’ve gotten everyone away from the wall, so the debris won’t hurt any civilians.”

“Good,” praised Elgrad. “We’ll give the signal for the robots inside to detonate the wall. Elgrad out.” He ended the call.

“And I just came up with an ultimatum for Kartambo,” chuckled Arsha.

“Can’t wait to see how you handle Mid-realm affairs!” said Elgrad. He then hugged Arsha.

“Daddy!” mumbled Arsha. She didn’t resist it, though. She simply hugged back.

A manhole cover moved out of its slot near the stables within Largandra’s castle. The person who moved it, Arsha, poked her head out and looked around. A horse mare, Sun Walker, goggled at seeing her usual rider. She was about to whinny in happiness, but Arsha put a finger to her lips. Sun Walker then looked around, then she shoved her muzzle into the side of the mare next to her, knocking the other mare, Moon Swimmer, into a wall. Moon Swimmer was startled and squealed at her attacker in warning. Sun Walker didn’t listen and ran her into the wall again. That prompted a fight between the two mares. The Stable Master woke up from the noise. He then got a pair of stable hands, both men, and they managed to separate the two mares. “A damn shame,” muttered one of the hands.

“Yeah, Arsha being in the Over-realm,” replied the other, “really took a hit on Sun Walker’s mood.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Not really, my husband’s been stuck in the Under-realm. I’m going just as crazy from the separation.”

“Yeah, and I was supposed to be traveling the Realms as a new Forsorna man.”

“All right, I know the separation of the Realms has delivered a hard blow to morale,” remarked the Stable Master, “but we still have a job to do. We must continue as if our real King is here.”

---

While the distraction went on, Arsha and her team made it to the maze. “Good girl, Sun Walker!” Arsha thought to herself. She then led her team through the maze and eventually arrived at the maze junction. She then made the deliberate wrong turn and found the secret passage. “Perfect!” she whispered. She opened the trapdoor, and the team went in. The passage was very narrow and short, so Gorfanth had to bend over as the team followed Arsha in single file. After an hour, they arrived at another door. Arsha put her ear to the door and hear a conversation going on.

“It is no concern of ours whether or not your family has…what was it again?” said a man in an oily voice, the nemesis of the Royanas, Skain.

“Erm, food, Your Grace,” replied a woman. The man scoffed.

“You really should have thought about that before the wall came up!”

“Sir, the wall has cut us all off from the lower fields! It’s endangering us!”

“How dare you!” Arsha then heard a slap and the woman yelped a millisecond after that. “I had that wall erected for YOUR safety and you dare tell me you can protect yourself better than I can?! That’s treason! Take her to the dungeon!”

“Sir! You can’t-!” protested the woman.

“The correct form of address is Your Majesty! Take her away! …And get the cleaning staff in here! It smells like a sewer! …Or maybe you guys DO need a shower.”

“It’s not us, Si…Your Majesty, I can personally assure you of that,” remarked a guard.

“Well, it ain’t Skain-” Arsha decided that that was the signal.

“SKAIN!” she shouted. The passage opened and the strike team swarmed the throne room. The guards briefly leveled their crossbows at the team only to see the Royanas.

“Your Majesties! Your Highness!” cheered one of the Guards. Everyone knelt to them.

“What’s all the ruckus?!” barked a voice. “I’m trying to-!” Irmalii rounded a corner and clapped eyes on the Royanas. “…I must be sleep-deprived!”

“Since you’re not throwing these pieces of trash in the dungeon, yes!” snarled Skain. Irmalii then slammed her fist into his chest for that.

“You will address the Royanas with respect, you throne-swiping, thin-blooded, purity-obsessed freak!” growled Irmalii. She then turned to Arsha and ran to give her a hug.

“Hold it!” called Arsha. “My team and I just went through the sewers, and I don’t want to spread its stink onto everyone else.”

“Erm, hello?! Rightful King here!” called Skain. “We’ve got intruders and-!”

“Thrandoshius Skain!” boomed Elgrad. “For usurping the throne during my absence, for reintroducing slavery into the Mid-realm, for other crimes too numerous and horrible to mention, I hereby declare you too dangerous to be kept alive!”

“I won’t bow to you anymore! The Mid-realm throne is MINE!”

“No, it’s mine! Guards, has that poor woman made it to the dungeon yet?”

“No, Your Majesty,” replied a guard. “But there ARE good people who did nothing wrong that are trapped there.”

“Get them out and put Skain in there! After that, seize his lands, confiscate his possessions, liquidate everything he has! Only when I get word of his financial assets being reduced to zero will he die!”

“YOU UNGRATEFUL-!” Irmalii clubbed the back of his head and knocked him out.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” she greeted as two guards hurried off to obey Elgrad’s orders.

“Good to BE back,” sighed Elgrad. He then took a whiff of his pits, then his face contorted in disgust. “I need a shower!”

“Yeah, no offense, Your Majesty, but you and your team reek!” Irmalii covered her nose, as did the rest of the guards. “We’ll have the serving staff draw you all a shower.”

“Thank you, Irmalii,” sighed Arsha. She then realized something. “Where’s Kartambo in all this?”

“The seditionist?” growled Irmalii. Elgrad then gave Irmalii his full attention.

“Why use that word with our trusted advisor?” he asked.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I’m afraid it’s you who are using the wrong words concerning him. Kartambo did nothing as Skain took the throne. He actually announced his support.” Elgrad’s eyes went wide in fury.

“Once I’m done cleaning the sewer stench off me, I want EVERY scrap of information on him!” he growled.

“At once, My Lord.” The strike team were then led to the baths as Irmalii headed off to obey her rightful sovereign’s commands.

---

Over in Frigandor, a Revenant Elf woman was sobbing hysterically. Yulduk and Tormo looked on in pity. “Poor Lontrel,” mumbled Yulduk. “She had really high hopes for the Markulak line of robots. Then Model 7 had to go and betray us and kill his successor!”

“You know, I think she’s lost her marbles because of it,” replied Tormo. “Yesterday, she thought she was a chicken.”

“We better get her a Shrink then!”

“Oh, we can’t do that!”

“…Why not?”

“We need the eggs!” Tormo laughed while Yulduk frowned.

“What’s that in your hand?”

“Just a hammer.” Yulduk then took the hammer from Tormo.

“Real classy to joke about someone grieving!” He then bonked Tormo on the head with the hammer. “Come on and help me console her!” He grabbed Tormo’s ear and dragged him over to the woman.