Chapter 19: One Without A King
The threat of a civil war was enough to get everybody on the run, and the news of the factions being formed did nothing to assuage the growing feeling of unease circling through the country.
But some people were looking forward to the mayhem and madness.
"The meeting will begin," Alistair said, his voice lulling the members of The Order into silence.
"Now, tell us what the king asked of you, Fred," Alistair called a random name, and a young man walked in, along with a Direhuman who seemed to be his companion.
"What's this? Are we fraternizing with those below us now? Is this the level we've fallen to?" A smallish man with an abnormally long beard spoke up, his eyes sizing up the new faces.
"Hold your peace, and wait for him to finish," Alistair chided, his eyes brokering no room for argument. He was a scary man whenever he wanted to be.
"Hmph," the smallish man said at last and sat down without a word, still fuming. He was casting death glares at Fred and his attendant.
"Now, tell us what's happening. Leave nothing out," Alistair gave Fred center stage, and Fred held Saphrana's hand, squeezing it gently.
"Don't fret, I'm here. If anyone wants to give you hell, they must go through me," he said, staring down at her. She had a look of adoration in her eyes.
"Okay," he cleared his throat and walked to the stage, Saphrana in his wake. He could feel the eyes of robed figures following his every move, but he didn't care.
"The president has a message. And he wants it told to all the members of the society trying to bring the country to ruin." There were murmurs, but he didn't care; it was his job to do what was required of him.
"But, he didn't factor in the fact that I may not be on his side." There was no sign that the room cared about whatever he said, but he barreled on.
"There are things in play, mighty weapons being made. A lot of people are going to die, and the City of Selene tops the list." Fred stopped the bombshell and waited for their reactions.
"What is he saying? Is he going to waste our time with old wives' fables? I'll have you know I have neither the time nor the patience for such games," the rage in the room was palpable, but Fred couldn't be deterred.
"This is as true as it is; the Defenders are being equipped with state-of-the-art weapons as we speak. Velor has refused to bow to the whims of terrorists and has decided to crack down on insurgents. They're coming for you." He ended his speech and a long silence ensued. Then, everyone in the room began to laugh. They were all wearing dark robes and had their voices altered. Only the shape of their bodies made him able to identify some of them. But that wasn't much to go with. He was risking his neck, and they weren't doing anything.
"For a minute, I thought he wanted to say something we didn't know. But now, it's business as usual, folks!" The smallish man spoke again, clinking glasses with the others. He looked familiar for some reason; Fred only knew a few older adults with such a hunched back and a way of walking with a limp that favored the right side.
It was a man people once called the Sword Saint. And he was part of the people trying to bring the country to ruin. It wasn't adding up; the Sword Saint had powers beyond most people's imaginations, and he greatly influenced a sphere of people. And he lived in a neighboring country, Gartha.
Why is the Sword Saint here?
But he couldn't voice his suspicions; there were still many things he didn't know, and he didn't have enough information to go on.
"You're naive, boy. I don't know how you found your way here, but why do you think you'd be left alive?"
The older man raised a salient point because even Fred was no match for a Sword Saint. The gap was astronomically large.
"It has to end here," Fred said vaguely, and Saphrana remained dutifully by his side, and he wasn't sure he deserved that.
"What is he saying? This isn't preschool; what punishment do we deem necessary for the tadpole?" He'd been called names before, but a tadpole was at the ladder's lowest rung. He couldn't hold back anymore. He took a deep breath and pointed at the group, heart encased in ice.
He was hell; he was judgment.
"This is the Purge; that none be left alive, and that I carry the will of the gods." As soon as he said that, the room descended into pandemonium, but Fred didn't care; he brought out his mana-enhanced weapon, a wicked-looking sword with deadly precision. It earned him one too many titles.
But this wasn't the time for reminiscing.
Fred slashed, his strike meeting the empty air. The members of The Order were staring daggers at him, none of them remotely hurt.
"Ah, so this is the demonstration you meant. It falls a little short, a lackluster performance."
Fred didn't need to be told that he'd been had, but he was the hand of the king for a reason. He couldn't falter even when faced with immense danger.
"How did you find out?"
"Did you think we were stupid? You walked into a well-armed base and caused a nuisance. But now we know that the president deserves to die. And so do you, for your little stunt. But? I'll play with you later. I want to see how far you bend before you break." Alistair licked his lips, and Fred finally understood why he'd felt uneasy since Alistair decided to introduce him to The Order.
It felt… unnatural, and now he knew why.
He was their prey.
"How fast do you run?" Alistair asked, still lounging comfortably on his chair, not budging an inch. Fred readied a fighting stance, but for the first time, Saphrana held him back.
"What?" He asked a little bit too harshly.
"They aren't here." And he noticed for the first time that their forms shimmered a little, like holograms. He'd just thrown the plan on their face without much thought. And they knew about the president; they knew about everything.
He didn't even know their name.
Fucking sloppy.
"Nice eyes your pet has got; we aren't here. Meeting in person can be… daunting. But once you get the hang of it, you can fool anyone," the Sword Saint spoke, and Fred felt shivers.
The wine sloshing, the exaggerated way he was led into the room, everything was to prove a point and nothing more. He didn't even have faces to identify.
"Also, tell the world about us if you dare." Alistair looked pointedly at him, the only one physically present in The Order. Fred felt anger boiling in his veins, wondering how long he'd been taken for a fool.
"So, will you take me by force?" He asked, not dislodging from his stance.
This time, when Saphrana pulled him back, it was full of urgency and fear. An energy beam blasted the place where he'd been standing a moment before, and Fred stumbled back.
"Come within five feet of me, and you'd be bombarded. You're welcome to try, though; I do love a good challenge," Alistair was having fun at Fred's expense, but it was to be expected because Fred had been out of the game for a while and lost track of where he was.
Saphrana seemed to be the one with the voice of reason.
"What will you do to us? Kill us? Torture us?" Fred was furious, but he wasn't going down without a fight.
"Why should I do that? There's no fun in it. Just go home." Alistair opened the door and walked out of it to show it was safe before he walked away.
Fred stared at the door and the holograms that disappeared one after the other, realizing something sickening.
He wasn't a threat to them; he was a child.
Saphrana held him for a long while after that, but the pain didn't leave.
It intensified. An hour later, news got to him that the president was dead.
"Your assignment is over; go home." Alistair came back to inform him before retiring for the day.
Fred wasn't a threat to the Order… he'd never been.
[FRED ALABASTER: ONE WITHOUT A KING]
His name flashed, but nothing mattered.
Not anymore.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone