The Hundred Reigns

Chapter 103: The Cocagne Affair (3)

The next day after his arrival, Simon was invited to a private ‘summoning session’ with Norbelle and Queen Remedia in the aptly named Nest of the Phoenix; the very place where Cocagne’s eidolon protector dwelled.

“It’s a good sign, I suppose?” Simon asked his sister as they walked up the stairs leading to the castle’s roof.

“It is a fantastic sign,” Norbelle replied. “She only used to invite me. I’m almost jealous that I will have to share her attention now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“True, true, I jest… but I am jealous. I thought the light megalith and I had a special relationship only Mother and Mirror-Face shared… I feel less special all of a sudden.” She walked up a bit ahead of him and turned around, hands behind her back. “Since when did you learn to cast Tier V prayers?”

Simon smiled, delighting in her confusion. “Would you believe me if I said I read it in a book?”

“Of course not, Father made sure the castle library excluded any spellbooks. I had to learn everything from tutors.” Norbelle leaned forward a bit, meeting his gaze. “I don’t recall you ever showing much appetite for swordsmanship either, let alone aptitude.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Do try. I am an open-minded person.”

He had baited her quite nicely. Time to hook the fish. “Are you aware of my dreams? The ones where I saw Father die? Well, every time I woke up, I realized I carried with me a…” He sensed invisible fingers on his throat, threatening him not to reveal too much. “Phantom memory, you could say. Skills I had in my dreams, and that somehow stuck around when I awoke.”

“Truly?” Norbelle put a finger on her lips, pondering his answer. “I had those dreams too, but I didn’t learn any spells from them.”

“You had those dreams too?” Simon asked, feigning surprise.

“Of course I’ve had weird magical dreams.” She sounded almost insulted by the question. “I am a Visionary, and the child of the two most powerful humans in the world.”

“What did you see?” Simon asked, knowing she wouldn’t resist lording her knowledge over him.

“Father dying to you, or Louis, or Mother… or even me once. I fed him to one of my summoned slaves.” She pouted. “Except I didn’t get any skills or spells out of those nightmares. You’re cheating, Simon.”

“When did you start having those dreams?” Simon asked in an attempt to establish a timeline of when those visions kicked in.

“Same time you did, I think. My theory is that the Overlord and the Oracle both have a foresight ability, except one gets their visions from the Dark and the other from the Light. They’re constantly warring for control of the future.” Norbelle chuckled. “I think Dad’s visions focused on his potential deaths and they ripple through the Dark, so we saw those extinguished futures in our dreams.”

Simon’s head perked up as he caught on to a specific detail. “Those we saw?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Of course, it’s only something a real Visionary like me would notice.” Norbelle’s face turned smug and condescending. “Visionaries can only see visions of events where they were physically present. We’re borrowing knowledge from our future selves.”

Simon froze as the pieces fell into place.

He had dreamed of reigns where he personally witnessed Father’s death, and so did Norbelle.

That explained why their visions differed sometimes; they hadn’t necessarily been physically present to witness all the reigns and their conclusions. The two of them remembered the same Lighthouse dream only because they had both been present to witness Father’s murder.

Maybe they had even colluded during that reign to kill him together that time…

Which meant… which meant Norbelle wouldn’t dream of him so long as she wasn’t physically present to witness his demise. She didn’t see any of Simon’s reigns because they had been far away from each other, even in the one where they fought on opposing sides of the Goetia Research Facility’s siege.

He had to ensure she was never present to witness his demise in any future reign, or else she would eventually dream of it. Maybe it would take years or months, but she would see it.

“Did I just blow your mind?” Norbelle’s head tilted to the side like an owl. “Come to think of it… if we shared dreams, then you must have had that one too…”

“Which one?” Simon asked, more confused than anything.

“You know...” She moved a step down, put her arms around his neck, and then whispered in his ear. “The one where we had sex.”

For a very, very long moment, Simon couldn’t say anything. It was like his mind had hit a wall as the words slowly sank in, bringing a terrifying picture to life within his skull.

That… that wasn’t… he didn’t remember… it couldn’t be…

“We killed Father together and it made us horny, so we had sex while he was bleeding out,” Norbelle said with a devilish expression. “He died watching us making sweet love in his bed.”

Could he have… no, no! Simon vaguely remembered all his dreams about father’s deaths–from a poisoned cup to throwing him off a tower or passing on in his sleep after a feast–and he couldn’t recall a single one that happened in his bedroom!

“You’re… you’re lying!” Simon protested, his cheeks flushing so red it hurt. This bitch was messing with him! “I don’t remember any of that nonsense!”

“Maybe I’m lying, maybe I’m not,” she teased him with a knowing look upon letting go of his neck. “The point is that you imagined it. You pictured it in your head, Simon. I know you did, you know that I know, and I’ll never let you forget it. You’ll spend the rest of your life knowing you’re a disgusting pervert who imagined himself having sex with his sweet little sister.”

That… What a twisted, evil mastermind! “You’re our father’s daughter!”

“I know.” She sounded so awfully proud of it too. “I can’t wait to tell Lauriane about it. I’m sure it will give her ideas.”

Simon spent the rest of the ascent struggling with the urge to add another kinslaying to his list of crimes.

The agony lasted until they reached the Nest of the Phoenix. It resembled a fountain atop a tower, except it churned out a substance Simon could only describe as liquid fire; an ooze smoother than lava and brighter than sulfur. A central platform in the middle and linked to the stairs by a stone bridge housed a burnished urn within which burned a shining egg of smokeless fire the size of a small house. The sheer mana radiating off of it reminded Simon of the water megalith.

“Is this…” Simon squinted at the egg. “The Phoenix?”

“Its sleeping form,” Queen Remedia’s voice answered him from above, lightly startling Simon. He looked up to find her floating a dozen meters or so above them, sitting on empty space. “Its true form would cast this castle in its wingspan’s shadow.”

Remedia could fly?

Of course she can fly, she lives in a floating castle, Simon thought, bowing to her. Let’s not screw this up.

Shabram’s files had already helped him learn much about Remedia—Balzam obviously having kept close tabs on her—and Norbelle extensively completed that briefing since. He had learned quite a lot about her.

Queen Remedia was thirty-seven years old, having reigned for nearly twenty years after her mother, the previous Mage, was assassinated by the then-current Rogue during a border conflict with Navarre. She had married King Filip less than three months after her coronation, and many would come to describe her rulership of Cocagne’s as a golden age. She extensively reformed the country’s legal code, granting more rights and protections to the peasantry, while expanding non-noble interests in the Senate; promoted trade, foreign investments, and economic sectors, turning the country into a major exporter of high-quality magical and manufactured goods; and she also sponsored provincial schools and was a noted patron of the arts.

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Remedia had a ruthless side to her, of course, like all monarchs. Besides relying on the Magisterium to prosecute some overmighty vassals, she had expanded the powers of the Shadowguard, the royal family's espionage, assassination, and sabotage service. Shabram was convinced she had ordered the death of a Navarran chieftain critical of Cocagne and that she had blackmailed at least one noble house into not supporting the Militarist faction by threatening to expose an internal scandal. She also mostly turned a blind eye to the increasing drug trafficking problem in her Queendom and the slave-gladiators common in Cocagne’s arenas, though she did ease their burden. All in all, she seemed like a fair and competent ruler overall, though her lack of an heir and support for the Autonomist faction had begun to lessen her power.

Otherwise, she was a voracious reader with one of the largest private libraries in the world, and an art collector with a particular interest in Fablan porcelain. Ambassador reports noted that she had a particular fascination with landscape gardens, and she often got into minor trouble with her finance minister over her lavish spending on jewelry and clothes, though she kept that particular expensive pleasure mostly under control.

Simon had a few ideas on how to befriend her, but he wanted to get a closer grasp on her personality first. The queen and the woman might be two very different aspects of the same person, after all.

“My apologies for startling you, Prince Simon, I enjoy watching the dawn rise from on high,” Queen Remedia said upon landing in front of them. She offered him her hand, which he gallantly kissed. “I pray your first night in Cocagne was pleasant.”

“It was.” Simon had never enjoyed a more comfortable bed in any prior reign. “It is we who should apologize for our delay, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, we were delayed due to arguing about the merits and demerits of noble consanguinity,” Norbelle said with a grin. “Keeping the magic in the family and all that stuff.”

This girl was born before shame!

Thankfully, Remedia had a sense of humor and rolled with it. “Norbelle, do not tell me my son bores you so much that you would rather import your brother from abroad as a replacement?”

“Not at all,” Norbelle replied, “Besides, Verdis is bound to have inherited at least some of Your Majesty’s talent.”

“It is true that bloodline does play a major role in magical affinity,” Remedia confirmed. “All of Cocagne’s great noble houses specialize in a special school of spellcasting, and their scions all show a particular aptitude for it since infancy.”

“Is that what your necklace represents, Your Majesty?” Simon inquired. “Mastery over all forms of magic?”

Remedia’s lips curved slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“I recognize the Crestones of the Witch, the Warlock, the Theurge, and the Sage, each of whom focuses on a particular spellcasting school.” Simon had grown quite familiar with them over his reigns, either because he had worked with their users or looted them off their dead holders… “Besides, I count sixteen Crestones around your neck; one for each spellcasting school.”

Which implied the Mage Crestone wasn’t among them, considering it lorded over all forms of spellcasting…

“You are exceptionally sharp, Prince Simon,” Remedia complimented him, her hand reaching for her necklace. “Indeed, this necklace is meant to represent the sixteen disciplines taught in Cocagne’s foremost school of magic… except libromancy, of course.”

“Libromancy?” Simon asked. He had never heard of that one.

“A lost school of spellcasting,” Remedia replied. “We know of its existence because it is one of the few that my Mage Class explicitly bars me from mastering, alongside prayers and performances. Our researchers believe it is a form of magic unique to the lost Librarian Class that focuses on books.”

Great. As if Elios Magnos hadn’t been terrifying enough already, the idea that he could access an unknown form of magic only added to his menace... Simon wondered if there existed miasma spells of that particular spellcasting branch hidden somewhere, waiting to be discovered.

“Would one of those Libromancy spells be called Thoughts on Mortality?” Simon inquired, with Norbelle quizzically raising her eyebrow at him. “It is a Librarian ability that kills anyone twenty levels or below that of the user. I saw it mentioned as being used by our ancestor, Elios Magnos, who held the Librarian Crestone at one point.”

“Fascinating,” Remedia said, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Thoughts on Mortality is an obscure treatise by the pre-Doom philosopher Laurent Valmore on the impermanence of things. Your ancestor must have named his spell after it.” She stroked her chin. “What else can you tell me about this Elios?”

“My apologies, but it’s a state secret,” Simon replied with a smile, satisfied that he had piqued her interest. “Perhaps I will be allowed to tell you more when our nations grow closer.”

“Of course. I hope my son and your sister’s marriage will set Cocagne and Endymion onto the path of friendship and mutual prosperity.” The queen’s words sounded kind enough, but Simon could tell she was repeating empty platitudes. “Since you wish to pursue your spellcasting education, I hope to see your progress for myself.”

“Well, I am a difficult student, Your Majesty,” Simon replied. “I am excellent in miasma-related disciplines and light megalith prayers, but terrible at everything else.”

Both his sister and Remedia stared at him with interest. “Show me,” the latter asked.

Simon then proceeded to alternate between casting prayer spells like Lightspeed and diabolism ones like Cursebound. The sight of him performing those spells as a Scholar greatly impressed Remedia, who immediately began to cast divination spells on him.

“Marvelous… your body naturally channels miasma rather than mana. I thought only demons, undead, and unique entities like the Overlord could do that.” Queen Remedia continued to cast analysis spells on Simon, system screens, and floating runes flashing around her. “If I hadn’t seen you cast Light-aligned prayer spells, I would have thought you were a fiend in disguise.”

“He’s only a devil in bed, Your Majesty,” Norbelle said, Simon doing his best to ignore her. Despite her flippancy, his sister still sounded equally curious as Queen Remedia.

“A man capable of wielding both light and darkness in equal measure… all members of House Magnos are truly exceptional people.” Remedia’s expression darkened a bit. “If we had met earlier… maybe…”

Norbelle put a finger on her lips. “What are you talking about, Your Majesty?”

“Nothing, just an idle thought.” Queen Remedia quickly changed the subject, though she couldn’t hide her interest. “How long will you be staying in Cocagne, Prince Simon?”

“As long as my sister needs me,” Simon replied. He took that question as a good sign.

“I am not certain she needs help,” Queen Remedia said. “She has nearly bound the Phoenix.”

“Nearly?” Norbelle scoffed and stepped onto the bridge. “I have already hammered out my agreement with my new pet. Today’s session is the proverbial signature. You may witness this historical event.”

Neither Simon nor Remedia stopped Norbelle as she approached the Phoenix’s egg, her diadem splitting apart on the forehead to reveal her third eye. The princess joined her hands together and hummed a song to herself. Her golden pupils began to glow, and mana swirled around her as the egg pulsed with power.

“I’m surprised you’re allowing an Endymian princess to bind your eidolon, even if she is to become your daughter-in-law,” Simon admitted to Remedia.

“The Phoenix is Cocagne’s national emblem,” the queen replied. “My people will be more accepting of my son’s marriage and our alliance if our god bonds with your sister.”

“I see… and I suspect the Phoenix cannot be deployed against Cocagne’s citizens?”

Queen Remedia chuckled without answering. Norbelle had stopped singing and closed all of her eyes except for her third one, which glowed in tune with the Phoenix’s egg. Simon could tell those two were occupied in some kind of telepathic discussion akin to the one he shared with his branded servants.

“Can you hear the Phoenix’s voice?” Queen Remedia asked.

“No,” Simon admitted. Which bothered him, since All-Seeing should let him understand any and all languages. “Can you?”

“Unfortunately not,” Remedia confessed. “Only a Visionary or Summoner can hear the Phoenix’s voice and form a contract with them, which lets them call the eidolon to their side and receive their true blessings. Some Conjuration spells require forming a contract with an eidolon to use them. Even a Mage like me cannot cast those, but watching your sister practice them furthers my own knowledge.”

“Does it inspire spells?” Simon inquired. He had heard she had invented a few during her rulership. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but there is something I must ask of you.”

“Go on.”

“Are you using beauty-enhancement spells?”

Remedia burst out laughing at the question. “None of your ambassadors dared to ask me that, though I could tell the question was on the tip of their tongues,” she admitted with a smile. “No, I do not use glamors unless I have to disguise myself… though I do use a high Tier age-resistance spell to retain my youth and vigor.”

“A Chronomancy spell?” Simon guessed, the queen nodding slightly. “I should look into it. I had hoped to visit Cocagne’s Great Library during my stay.”

“I could arrange a visit, or lend you some of my personal grimoires.”

“I wouldn’t be so bold as to rob Your Majesty’s study…” Simon met her gaze. “Unless Your Majesty wishes to give a private lesson, that is.”

Queen Remedia smiled at his sheer audacity, her eyes sizing him up. “I will consider it.”

Simon returned her smile as a pulse of mana spread across the air. A column of blinding, smokeless fire rose from the egg in the form of a great, fiery outline of the Phoenix that burned atop the palace for the entire city below to see. The bird screeched to the heavens with a melodious, awe-inspiring song.

The contract was signed.

“It is done,” Norbelle declared proudly. “Just three more to go, and I will have the full set!”

Afterwards, Queen Remedia officially announced to her court and ministers that the Phoenix had recognized Norbelle as a viable Summoner and thus granted its divine blessing to her union with Prince Verdis during a public audience. This ought to have silenced most complainers about the engagement, though Simon noticed a handful of courtiers and Filip scowling at this turn of events.

The queen also decided to organize a grand ball to celebrate and officialize the engagement for the entire nation at the conclusion of the Senate’s latest parliamentary session. Simon was cordially invited, though he was told he would need to bring a date.

“A non-relative,” Norbelle teased him once they returned to their quarters, “And one that will make Remedia jealous, if possible. That will motivate her.”

“Do you have a candidate in mind?” Simon inquired. His first choice would have been Meredith, but he doubted Remedia would feel challenged by her.

Norbelle gave him that mischievous smirk of hers that promised the worst. “Leave that to me. I promise you they will never see it coming.”

Simon shuddered, doubly so when she refused to elaborate. A knock on the door interrupted them, with Leonard walking in.

“Your Highness,” he said, presenting him with a book. “A servant brought this to you on behalf of the queen.”

Simon checked the book, a thick and well-preserved grimoire titled Thoughts on Mortality, by Laurent Valmore. He opened it to find a small bookmark inside. Norbelle all but snatched it out of his hands and read it.

“It’s an address, and a time,” Norbelle mused, “Tomorrow night.”

Simon had had enough experience with intrigue to guess where this was going. “Trap?”

“Of course it’s a trap, Simon,” Norbelle replied with a chuckle. “But it would be rude not to answer.”