Shifting Stars Gary Stringer (moboreader .txt) 📖

gentlemen: I am not Ulvarius. Just because a person lives in a house that once belonged to a monster, that does not mean they must be a monster, too. I have no interest in a war with you. I don’t do random violence. What I will do is neutralise, without mercy, any threat to my life. I have no interest in your politics. I have no interest in conquest or in ruling the world. If I wanted the world, I could have it tomorrow, but frankly, I wouldn’t want the paperwork. Leave me alone to study my magic, and I have no reason to harm any of your citizens.”

“So, what exactly are your terms of our…surrender?” Prince Travarin asked hesitantly.

“Well, since you came as requested today, they’re straightforward: Leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone. In your case, I am unlikely to venture into Sylfranian lands because it would be…painful for me,” Dreya admitted.

There were wards in place, set by White clerics, that would react badly to the presence of her Dark wizard magic.

With a flash of her eyes, however, she warned him, “but don’t imagine that would stop me if ever you gave me cause.” Point made, she reverted to her usual pleasant, conversational tone. “I would, however, ask for a gift. You know the house and family I belong to, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he concurred.

“Then I want my ring back, please. You see, I left in something of a hurry and left it behind. Get it for me within seven days, and I guarantee the safety of any messenger carrying it. Can you arrange that?”

The truth was, she didn’t care about her ring, and the noble Sylfranian house it represented meant nothing to her, but it meant everything to Travarin.

Working hard to mask how painful it was for him, the Prince agreed to her terms, so Dreya turned her attention to Squire Johanssen.

“The terms for you are slightly different,” she said, “because I am very much interested in visiting your town.

“There are bound to be things that I need, so I expect to be granted the freedom of Gaggleswick and full access to its services, just like anyone else. I will, of course, pay the going rate. I always pay my debts. However, as an apology for your thoughtless attack, I would like a gift from you, too. These linen robes of mine are not the most comfortable. They chafe and scratch in places – it’s very distracting. Therefore, I would like a bolt of black fabric, please – I’m thinking the softest, most luxurious velvet money can buy – and to hire the services of your finest tailor to ensure a perfect fit every time. Once again, the safety of that tailor will be guaranteed on the condition of absolute discretion on their part.”

Without any further explanation for that condition, Dreya concluded, “Now, considering you tried to take my life from me, I consider that a bargain price.”

The squire quickly agreed to organise the tailor and have Freedom of Gaggleswick documents drawn up and signed.

“Good. Again, shall we say seven days?”

He assured Dreya that would be no problem.

“Excellent,” she said, satisfied. “In that case, gentlemen, our business is at an end.” She stood and began to escort them from her home. “I hope you have enjoyed this evening. Do not expect it to happen again.

“One last thing,” she added as they reached her door. “You attacked me, yet you still live. Understand the rarity of that. From this day forward, you live only because I choose it. Do not give me reason to choose otherwise. Farewell, gentlemen, and don’t worry about walking through my grounds alone. They’re all under control now,” she assured them.

“Mostly,” she added as she closed the door behind them.

*****

After that, gentle reader, she was indeed left alone, and all was well, apart from one incident a few months later, when a mob of hot-headed thugs decided if they couldn’t attack Dreya directly, they would go after the one who trained her. After all, it was his fault she was there at all.

Xarnas was a skilled wizard, but it had been a while since he had been involved in a real fight and he was getting slightly worried about the large gang that was advancing on him. He need not have feared, however, as a figure in velvet robes of the deepest black he had ever seen, materialised beside him.

Dreya made short work of the attacking group, sending out an energy beam that incinerated all but one who had been trying to sneak up behind them. Now he turned to flee, instead.

“What was that?” Xarnas gasped in astonishment. “It almost looked like the cannon thing that those higher planar beings fight with.”

Dreya inclined her head in respect. “I see your mind has lost none of its sharpness in my absence,” she said, getting remarkably close to a compliment. “It’s not that powerful, yet, but give me time.”

Watching the fleeing man, she said, “I suppose this is the part where I say, ‘Let’s leave this one alive so he can warn any others what happens if they attack us.’”

“Actually, I’ve never seen the point of that,” Xarnas replied.

“No,” Dreya agreed, snapping the ruffian’s neck with a flick of her wrist. “Neither have I.”

She turned to Xarnas, pulling the hood from her head. “I’ll send a message to Squire Johanssen, get him to spread the word that you’re under my protection and an attack on you is an attack on me.”

“An act of kindness from a Black robe, Dreya?” he wondered.

“Kindness has nothing to do with it,” she insisted, flicking her long dark hair out of her eyes, a look of irritation passing over her usually impassive face. “You helped make me what I am. I owe you, and I always pay my debts.”

Without another word, she left her former Master’s tower for what would be the last time.

In the years that followed, Dreya got more involved with the Council of Wizards, keen to support