Ederick shook his head, his own expression pained. “He was a good man. He was better for having known you. I know how much you cared for him. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“Thank you,” Adrissu repeated. He couldn’t formulate anything else. “Thank you.”
“You’d better get in there before they come looking for you,” Ederick said gruffly, gesturing toward the hall. Adrissu nodded, and with one last murmur of thanks, he turned and entered the meeting hall. Some of the humans looked at him curiously, their eyes flickering between his tear-streaked face and the cloth-covered shape he carried; but he ignored them, and none of them said anything.
They might have announced that Polimnos was to be set aflame, or dropped to the bottom of the ocean, and he would not have cared. Ruan’s shield was in his arms, pressed to his heart. Ruan was gone, but his soul lived on. With this, at least, Adrissu thought he could bear the wait until they found each other again.
Book Two
Volkmar
Chapter Fourteen
Inspiteofeverything,Adrissu could acknowledge that in hindsight, becoming part of the Federation of Autreth was a net positive for Polimnos.
The Autrethian officials, who facilitated the change in power, explained how each territory within Autreth had its own Lord Representative, who would be part of the Lord’s Council to meet annually in Gennemont. There were federal regulations that the Lord Representative would enforce, but each territory was welcome to rule however it saw fit, so long as the Lord Representative remained the primary power. It was a strange way to rule, Adrissu thought; but all things considered, it was a relief to know that he would not be under the scrutiny of some foreign tyrant.
The title of Lord Representative was offered to him first, which took him by surprise. Each of the councilors glanced between him and the Autrethian officials, equally surprised, but Adrissu was quick to gather his wits and answer.
“I am flattered by your confidence in me, Sir Etienne,” he replied evenly—the knight from Gennemont, Etienne, had taken charge of their meetings. Adrissu was not actually flattered by the irritating human’s apparent faith in him, but he could not say as much. Having a Lord Representative that simply did not age or die would not be beneficial for his desire to continue his life in Polimnos in peace, so he could not accept. “However, I must decline your offer. Much as I have enjoyed my time on the Polimnos council, I confess that I have little interest in a more dedicated civic position. I am a researcher and a mage, not a politician. Or a lord.”
“Hm,” Sir Etienne hummed in response, looking Adrissu over. His expression was not quite surprised—more like his understanding of Adrissu had been challenged and changed. He was silent for a moment, so Adrissu cleared his throat and offered,
“Instead, I would recommend considering Councilor Cyrus for the position.” A slight murmur rose in the councilors next to him, so he continued without looking at them, “While we did not technically have a leader, and all councilors had the same standing, as the head councilor, Cyrus was the facilitator of our group. If anyone is prepared to help Polimnos into this... new era, it would be him.”
“I see,” Sir Etienne replied, rubbing his chin. His eyes finally left Adrissu, looking over the other councilors. Adrissu did not need to look to feel the gaze of Cyrus on him—and probably Benil Branwood as well, somehow offended that Adrissu did not recommendhim, he was sure. “Councilor Cyrus was my second choice already, from what I was able to glean about the council in our short time together. Councilors, would you agree with this recommendation?”
For a moment, the councilors were silent. Then, Ellisa Tanner offered, “Yes, absolutely.” After another beat, the others murmured their agreement. Adrissu glanced over to see Cyrus, his mouth a tight line, but his eyes soft and full of emotion. He had voted to fight against this very exchange, but somehow Adrissu did not think he would refuse.
“In that case, if you accept, Cyrus,” Sir Etienne continued, gesturing toward the older human, and after a nervous huff of breath, Cyrus nodded.
Cyrus was officially declared the Lord Representative of Polimnos within the week. He was allowed two trusted advisors who might act in his stead, if he were somehow prevented from performing his duties, and who would select the next Lord Representative when he stepped down or passed away. He selected Ellisa Tanner, and after a beat of consideration, Adrissu. That, at least, he accepted.
A handful of the representatives from Autreth left Polimnos after that week. Another wave departed after a month, and the last—Sir Etienne among them—remained three months before leaving for their homes. Two remained behind to reside permanently in Polimnos: one was a human merchant, and the other an elven woman, who came to fill one of the many vacancies left in the mercenary’s guild. It was the first time another elf would permanently live in Polimnos; but luckily the woman seemed just as guarded toward him as he was of her, and he never even learned her name.
He missed Ruan desperately. But time went on, and his life found a new routine. Every day he wondered if Ruan’s spirit had already been reborn, if he was already in the world with him, and where he might be,whohe might be now. At first the thought paralyzed him when it struck, filling him with a longing so desperate that he could hardly breathe. But eventually the thought became familiar, almost comforting, less of a longing and more of an eager anticipation.
Once, his thoughts took a particularly dark turn, and he wondered if the ritual could even work on a human soul, and if Ruan would ever actually return to him. The thought that it all might have truly been in vain, and he would be alone for the rest of time, kept him trapped in his bed for a day. But in the end, he knew that he’d felt the magic take hold. He could only trust that he did it right—and he pored over the scroll and his memory of the ritual over and over again, trying to pinpoint any misstep, never finding any—and wait for Ruan to find him.
It was easier to wait when he had things to do, so he kept himself busy. With the mercenary’s guild clinging to life by a thread, he donated a sizable sum from his hoard, knowing Ruan would hate to see the guild that had become a fixture of Polimnos dissolved in such a way. Only the youngest recruits still in training remained, and only four instructors between them. Ederick, the most senior staff left alive, became the guildmaster by default. Adrissu could only regard him fondly, and he helped out as much as he could, often spending afternoons at the guild with Ederick to go over budgets, payouts, and contracts. It took a long time for the guild to stabilize enough that it no longer felt as if one failed job might bankrupt the entire organization, but Adrissu was thankful for the distraction.
He went back to his own studies as well: topics that he had long since put aside to remain at Ruan’s side. He traveled often to neighboring cities with other mages and scholars, and even occasionally to Gennemont, taking advantage of the new alliance between the cities to visit the College of the Arcane: the foremost institute of the study of magic in the known world. Their libraries were open to him as a citizen of the Federation, so he got in the habit of visiting monthly to read as much as he could.
It was during one of these visits that a new idea first struck him: what if, instead of waiting miserably for Ruan’s soul to return in a mortal body, he could make Ruan immortal like him?
The existence of undeath made him think that such a thing was possible. If a body could be animated without the presence of a soul to continue living, then the opposite could also be true, at least theoretically. Necromancy was a topic of which he knew little, and while not outright forbidden, it was certainly taboo. The College of the Arcane’s library held almost nothing on the topic that did not simply condemn it and move on. One of the professors there had a passing interest in necromancy and would discuss Adrissu’s idea with him—a hypothetical, of course—but nothing concrete ever came of it. Adrissu filed the thought away: there wassomethingthere, he was sure, but Gennemont was not the place to discover it.
Several years passed this way. His advisor position to Cyrus as the Lord Representative was more a formality than anything, so his presence on the new council was rarely missed. Between his studies throughout Autreth and his increased involvement with the mercenary’s guild, he kept busy enough not to dwell on Ruan, and with time the pain of it became the dull ache of an old wound.
Nearly five years after Polimnos became part of Autreth—as it was generally known, since the entirety of the continent of Autreth was now part of the Federation—Cyrus passed away in his sleep, and a new Lord Representative was chosen. Had it happened even a year prior, Adrissu would have expected Benil Branwood to vye for the position, ambitious as he was. But his daughter had finally married, he now had a grandchild, and the Branwood mines were prosperous and productive. Whatever goals he seemed to once have for civic life or political power had been put aside, at least so it appeared. Adrissu hadn’t had a one-on-one conversation with him in several years.
He and Ellisa discussed the matter—she too was now advanced in age and was unlikely to survive Cyrus by far—and decided to appoint Kira Lang as the next Lord Representative, which she accepted. Kira was the younger cousin of the late Yue Lang, whom Adrissu had met a handful of times when she’d been apprenticed to the forge. She had taken over when Yue died, and under her care, it was more prosperous than ever. Polimnos was a place of trade and commerce, so it only made sense for their Lord Representative to be one of the most successful merchants in the city.
Kira was brusque, but intelligent, and Adrissu got along well with her. Like Cyrus, she obeyed the law of the Federation only as required, and otherwise tried to keep Polimnos as independent as possible, promoting trade and encouraging a diversity of business beyond the primary export of stone.
“I have an idea for you,” she told him once, nearly ten years on, when he had returned from one of his regular trips to the College of the Arcane.
“I’m listening,” he replied, brows raised in curiosity.
