The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Iron Palace, Palace wing of the Second Prince
"He was not supposed to wake up!" The Second Prince cursed under his breathe as he paced around the room. "The healers were certain that old man had finally reached the end of his time!"
"Where did he get that witch from?" The Second Prince vented his anger by sweeping the items off his desk. "What do we do now?"
"You are already the nominated Crown Prince by the rest of the Iron Lords and ministers!" Lord Sincia frowned at the Second Prince's violent outburst. "Even if my Royal Brother has woken up from his deathbed... He wouldn't recover his health any time soon!"
"But... He might revoke my nomination!" Prince Najja yelled, the fats of his chin wobbled as he gestured around wildly. "It's all his fault! Why can't he disappear for real! We should finish him off now!"
"He has gained some unknown allies," Lord Sincia said, ignoring the Second Prince's words. "Anyway, now what you should do is to gain more support!"
"With his return, Prince Herod should be re consolidating his power with the steam merchants," Lord Sincia mused. "We must take steps to prevent them from supporting him again!"
"How?" Prince Najja grumbled as he finally stopped pacing and sat down on his chair. "He advocated so much for the steam merchants!"
"Start offering the steam merchants more grants and other privileges as long as they support you," Lord Sincia sighed. "It might use up more of our funds... But it can't be helped! We just have to ask for more aid from the old families of magic descent..."
"Those old geezers just aren't willing to give up their power after all this time!" Prince Najja shook his head. "Their time is over, yet they still want to remain in power!"
"The era of magic might be over, but still those families possess enough ancient magic powers that we cannot ignore!" Lord Sincia warned. "And they also possess generations of accumulated wealth!"
"Hmm... But still... I think you are lacking something..." Lord Sincia frowned as he walked to the map on the wall and tapped on it. "This!"
He pointed to the area of conflict with the Tri State. "You need a decisive victory against the Tri State... Only than you can establish your place as the true Crown Prince!"
"But... but..." Prince Najja's face turned pale as he stammered. "I... You know I am not good with fight and all that..."
"Steel yourself!" Lord Sincia snapped angrily. "You are a Winterborne! You have blood of iron in your veins! Act like one!"
"I... I..." Prince Najja swallowed nervously before he puffed up his large belly. "I understand!"
"Don't worry, I will assign a great general to assist you!" Lord Sincia said as he laid out his plans. "All you need to do is look confident and act the part of a commander!"
"Once you have a few victories under your belt, your reputable will be enough to ensure your position as Crown Prince!" Lord Sincia traced his finger on the map. "And as long as you out last my royal brother... You will be the next Iron King!"
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The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Iron Palace, Palace wing of the Third Prince
Prince Herod was seated behind his desk which was filled with dozens of scrolls all requiring his immediate attention. His door was permanently open and aides and messengers constantly entered and left.
"Your Highness," An aide bowed and reported. "The Tulner Mercantile has reconfirmed their support to your cause if you agree to their terms."
Prince Herod frowned as he took the scroll and looked at the terms before he slammed it on his desk in anger. "Those damn greedy leeches!"
"A quarter of the merchant taxes to be cut?" Prince Herod hissed, nearly picking up the scroll again to rip it apart. "Those bastards!"
"The Tulner Mercantile has informed us that the Second Prince has offered them a similar deal..." The aide quickly added. "They want to know if you can match the Second Prince or better..."
"I hope they steam in hell!" Prince Herod cursed as he rubbed his brow in frustration. "Who else has the Second Prince approached?"
"Almost everyone..." The aide reported. "But only three of the steam merchants has not turned their offer down..."
"Dammit!" Prince Herod cursed again. "Have we managed to contact the Cartel?"
"Yes, your Highness," The aide replied. "We are awaiting their reply."
"My brother has the support of the damn old conservatives and if three of the major merchants join his side..." Prince Herod stood up and paced around his office. "He will have at least half the support of the entire Iron Kingdom..."
"What of the neutral Lords?" Prince Herod asked his aides. "What is their replies?"
"The neutral Lords are... saying they will only consider support after the end of hostilities with the Tri State..." Another aide reported. "They say they are busy defending their borders to provide any support for the Throne..."
Prince Herod paused in his steps as he stared at the region map on his wall. He walked up to it and tapped on the red tag pinned on the map and declared, "Then... I must go defeat the Tri State!"
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The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Iron Palace, Private Chambers of the Iron King
Dr. Sharon checked the IV drip rate hung on one of the iron poles of the poster bed of the King before she looked down to find the King staring at her. She gave a smile and made a bow in the local way, "Greetings, your majesty."
"I... heard... you are... the one... who saved Prince Herod..." The Iron King said in a soft weak voice. His face no longer as twisted as before. "Thank... you..."
"It's my honor," Dr. Sharon quickly replied and she helped the King sit up on the pillows. "It was a coincidence... So I helped."
"You... are very... kind..." The Iron King sighed. "And thank you... for curing... this... old person..."
"But... It is... a waste..." The Iron King continued. "For... I... have... not... much... time..."
"Nonsense!" Dr. Sharon shook her head as she checked his pulse. "With me here. I can guarantee you have at least ten more years or more!"
"Hahaha..." The Iron King laughed weakly. "Young... Lady... you sure... know how... to make... an old person... happy..."
"I know... my health..." The Iron King said. "And... I heard... the healers... They say... my awakening... is a small miracle... but... my body is... too weak... to last..."
"Those quacks!" Dr. Sharon rolled her eyes before she patted the King's hand. "Don't worry, your majesty. Trust me, in a week, you will be hopping out of this bed, as good as new!"
The King laughed again and coughed, before he said, "I... can... see my third son... holds you... in great esteem..."
"Oh?" Dr. Sharon brushed it off. "We barely even know each other!"
"I see the... way... he looks at you..." The King smiled. "He is a very rough person... as he grown... up... in the.. borders... But... his heart... is in the... right place..."
"Please... help me... look after... him..." The King said. "He... is... a good person..."
"Haha..." Dr. Sharon felt embarrassed. She wondered if the King was trying to be a match maker when he should be resting. And all the talk about him not going to make it made her a bit pissed off as if her skills as a modern professional doctor was just a joke to these medieval mindset people. But she knew they had no medical knowledge like hers and normally getting a stroke in a medieval setting was as good as death to them.
The precious medical nanite she injected into the King were busy working their techno magic in repairing damaged cells and tissues. Damaged nervous systems were repaired and reconnected, reversing the damaged caused by the stroke. But to do so, the nanites required building blocks which were taken from the host's fats and in doing so, the host would feel weak and tired.
Hence, the IV drip was filled with a high electrolyte solution designed to power the nanites and provide the host with selected vitamins and nutrients. Without a dedicated medical station to monitor and control the nanites, she has to ensure that the King gets enough nutrients in his body or the nanites might kill the King instead by ' over eating' the insides of the Host to repair the internal damages.
Unable to explain such a phenomenal ability to the locals, Dr. Sharon can only let out a sigh as she reassured the King once more, "Your Majesty, trust me! You will recover in no time!
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The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Arcanium of Steamworks and Magic, The Grand Library
"This is amazing!" Magister Thorn repeatedly said for the umpteen time as he buried his nose into the pile of scrolls. "Amazing!"
Blake put aside the scroll which he was reading and rubbed his tired eyes. They had been going through the pile of materials nearly the whole day but so far they haven't found the spell they needed. But that did not dampen their spirits as they found records and mentions of the spell they wanted on the materials brought up from the library vaults.
If it wasn't for Scholar Valena's thoughtful gesture of sending attendants with food and refreshments over, the whole group would have gone hungry for the day. Even the Marines were helping by sorting out the scrolls and reading materials for the rest.
"I found it!" Professor Hamlot suddenly cried out excitedly. Everyone quickly rushed over to see as he carefully spread out the scroll made out of some soft hide on the table. Suugon characters and arcane symbols were scribbled in a circular pattern on the middle of the scroll with more of the flowly Suugon words on the side.
"Look!" Professor Hamlot traced the flowly Suugon characters on the side of the scroll and translated the Suugon text. "This says here, to seek one's soul, put an offering of the soul."
"I guess this means to find the one you want, you need to give some form of offering," Professor Hamlot made a guess. "Than this line here, "It says, blood shall lead to the soul and blood shall show the way."
"Hmm... I am not too sure about what this part means," Professor Hamlot shook his head. "Then here says, the needle will find the way and the lost will be found."
"Is there a professor or scholar in the school that knows how to use this spell?" Blake asked.
"Yes, there is," Professor Hamlot nodded. "I can ask him for help."
"Please," Blake replied. "Magister Thorn will you follow along?"
"Of course!" Magister Thorn grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for anything!"
"Good," Blake gestured to the Marines. "Take two of the Marines as escort."
"We will meet back here in a day," Blake said as he pulled the cord to called for an attendant. "Damn, its night already!"
An attendant knocked on the door shortly after, he bowed to the Blake and the rest and said, "Esteemed guests, please follow me, rooms have been arranged for your stay."
"Alright, change of plans," Blake said as they left the room. "Everyone get some rest for the night, we continue tomorrow."
As Blake laid down on the bed in the guest dormitory room, his thought back to the days when he first met Sherene. She carried the entire fate of her followers on her small frail shoulders and despite the uncertainty and fear in her eyes, she chose to ally with an unknown alien race just to save her people. He respected her a lot for her decision and later even started to admire her for her positive outlook on life.
He took out his tablet and started scrolling through all the images and videos of the time they had together and slowly, he fell asleep with tears in his eyes.
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