The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

Traveling by magical flying horse turned out to be considerably faster than my dignity was prepared for.

There are several ways a person can cross a great distance.

Walking.

Horseback.

Carriage.

Boat.

All reasonable.

All civilized.

All methods that generally allow your stomach to remain in roughly the same geographical location as the rest of your body.

Then there was whatever the Knights Order of Inizio considered transportation.

We flew.

Fast.

Not pleasantly fast.

Not breeze-through-your-hair, admire-the-scenery, feel-alive fast.

I meant the kind of speed where opening your mouth too widely felt like volunteering to inflate your lungs from the outside.

The magical horse beneath me cut through the sky while enormous white wings made of light stretched from its sides. Every powerful beat carried us farther across Aphrodasia.

The knight sitting in front of me appeared completely comfortable.

I hated him personally for that.

Below us, forests became green streaks.

Rivers twisted through the landscape like silver threads.

Hills rolled past beneath our feet.

Occasionally I caught glimpses of roads, villages, farmland, and distant travelers who probably looked up and thought the royal knights appeared majestic.

From their angle, sure.

From mine, I was clinging to an armored stranger while silently negotiating with every muscle involved in remaining mounted.

Heroic.

Eventually, the landscape changed.

The wilderness thinned.

Fields appeared.

Large stretches of cultivated land spread beneath us in organized sections. Roads became wider. Small settlements gathered around crossroads. Carriages moved toward a distant point ahead.

Then the capital appeared.

I forgot about my complaints for several seconds.

”Oh.”

The knight in front of me glanced slightly over his shoulder.

”What?”

”Nothing. Just recalibrating my expectations.”

Because calling the place a city felt inadequate.

It was enormous.

Inizio’s capital sprawled across the land beneath us, surrounded by two massive rings of stone walls.

Not fences.

Not decorative fortifications built to make invaders feel unwelcome.

Walls.

Thick enough to support patrol routes along their tops and tall enough that anyone attempting to climb them without permission would have plenty of time to reconsider every decision that had led to that moment.

The outer wall enclosed a broad district packed with houses, workshops, markets, warehouses, and other buildings arranged around wide roads.

Then came the second wall.

Higher.

Stronger.

Beyond it sat the wealthier heart of the capital.

Larger homes.

Stone buildings.

Courtyards.

Towers.

Temples or official buildings I could not identify from the air.

Even this high above the city, I could see movement everywhere.

People flooded the streets.

Merchant stalls crowded entire squares.

Carriages moved along major roads.

Flags snapped from towers.

Smoke rose from chimneys in dozens of thin trails.

Silver-armored patrols looked like tiny moving pieces scattered throughout the streets.

Back on Earth, I had lived around cities large enough to make this place look small by population.

But those cities had skyscrapers.

Road networks.

Cars.

Electric lights.

Concrete.

This place was medieval civilization operating at full volume.

Stone roofs and timber frames.

Markets beneath colorful awnings.

Massive walls.

Armored guards.

Horse-drawn wagons.

It was like someone had taken every fantasy city I had ever seen, gave it actual infrastructure, then added several hundred thousand people complaining about taxes.

”Okay,” I muttered. ”Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The formation did not slow much.

Apparently traffic laws became optional when your horse came with aviation privileges.

We soared directly over the inner wall.

Several guards below looked up and saluted.

Our horses banked toward the largest structure in the capital.

The castle.

Of course.

Because naturally the woman who had sent armed knights to collect me lived or worked in the building that looked capable of surviving a small apocalypse.

The castle dominated the center of the city.

Bright stone walls rose around enormous courtyards. Tall towers stood at each corner, crowned with golden roofs and lion banners. Multiple connected buildings stretched across the grounds, each large enough to qualify as important government architecture by itself.

At the center stood the main palace, a massive structure of white stone decorated with gold trim and sculpted lions.

Subtlety had apparently been executed for treason.

Our horses descended toward a circular courtyard inside the castle grounds.

My stomach climbed into my throat.

”Oh, wonderful.”

The horse angled downward.

Wind roared past.

Stone pavement expanded beneath us at a speed that made me briefly reconsider religion.

Then the horse spread its glowing wings.

Our descent slowed.

Hooves touched the ground.

The magical wings scattered into particles of white light and disappeared.

For several seconds, I remained seated.

Nobody moved.

I looked down.

Ground.

Beautiful, reliable ground.

Solid.

Non-flying.

I climbed off the horse immediately.

The moment my boots touched stone, I resisted the urge to kneel and kiss it.

I settled for planting both feet firmly and enjoying the revolutionary concept of not being airborne.

The knight who had carried me glanced down.

”Are you well?”

”Never better.”

”You look pale.”

”I’ve recently developed a renewed appreciation for floors.”

He frowned.

”Floors?”

”Ground-based surfaces in general.”

Before he could decide whether I had suffered brain damage during the flight, Nemris dismounted nearby.

Naturally, she landed perfectly.

No stumbling.

No stretching.

No moment of silently thanking gravity for ending its shift.

She simply swung down from the saddle, boots hitting stone, golden armor gleaming beneath the afternoon light.

Her lion tail flicked once behind her.

Then she looked at me.

Same expression as before.

Mild disappointment mixed with professional suspicion.

I had known this woman for less than a day and already felt like I had failed an exam she had never informed me I was taking.

Nemris approached.

”The Great Sage is waiting.”

”Good afternoon to you too.”

She continued staring.

I smiled.

Nothing.

Not even a twitch.

Difficult audience.

”Follow me.”

She turned.

I glanced at the other knights.

Most had already begun tending to their horses or speaking with castle attendants.

Apparently my personal escort had concluded.

I followed Nemris across the courtyard.

Castle servants and soldiers moved around us.

Some bowed to Nemris.

Others stopped what they were doing entirely.

Nobody reacted to me much beyond curious glances.

That made sense.

To them, I was merely a Spriggan wearing strange clothes and walking behind one of the most powerful military figures in the kingdom.

Odd.

Not impossible.

If they knew I was technically a member of an extinct species being delivered because a Great Sage had seen a giant divine hand lower me from the heavens, I suspected the staring would become less subtle.

We entered the palace.

The interior was almost offensively clean.

White stone dominated everything.

White floors polished enough to reflect light.

White pillars.

White walls.

High arched ceilings.

Large windows allowed sunlight to pour across corridors so broad that Silverclaw could probably fit several houses inside them.

Gold appeared everywhere as decoration.

Doorframes.

Patterns in the flooring.

Trim along the walls.

Lion imagery.

Lots of lions.

Carved lions.

Painted lions.

Golden lion emblems.

Stone lion statues.

If the ruling family ever forgot which Beastkin race governed Inizio, architecture had taken precautions.

We passed a mural stretching across one wall.

Several Lionkin warriors stood in formation behind a crowned king.

Another depicted some ancient battle against creatures I did not recognize.

Farther down, paintings displayed monarchs from different eras.

Every one of them Lionkin.

Male kings.

Female rulers.

Different armor, different clothing, different hairstyles.

Same ears.

Same tails.

Same expression suggesting taxation was sacred.

I slowed slightly beside one enormous portrait.

A muscular Lionkin king stood on a battlefield holding a sword while storm clouds gathered behind him.

”Very modest.”

Nemris continued walking.

”What?”

”The portrait.”

She looked back.

”What about it?”

”Nothing says humble leadership like commissioning yourself with lightning in the background.”

Her expression remained unchanged.

”That is King Orialis the Conqueror.”

”Ah. Conqueror.”

I nodded.

”That explains the branding.”

Nemris turned forward.

I followed.

”So Inizio has always been ruled by Lionkin?”

”For most of its recorded history.”

”Interesting.”

”You sound surprised.”

”I’ve been surprised continuously since I died.”

She stopped walking.

I stopped too.

Nemris looked at me.

”What did you say?”

My brain immediately hit emergency brakes.

Right.

Nobody here knew that part.

I smiled.

”Since I... nearly died.”

Her eyes narrowed.

”Nearly?”

”Long story.”

She studied me for several seconds.

Then apparently decided my nonsense was beneath investigation and resumed walking.

Beautiful.

I followed.

After another corridor, I asked, ”So am I meeting the king too?”

”No.”

”Should I feel rejected?”

”His Majesty is occupied.”

”Important kingdom business?”

Nemris’s steps slowed for half a second.

”Something personal.”

I waited.

That was it.

No explanation.

No juicy royal scandal.

Nothing.

”Personal as in family emergency personal or personal as in please stop asking before I have you arrested?”

Nemris turned her head.

Her eyes answered the question.

”Right.”

I nodded.

”Second one.”

We continued.

I glanced at another painting.

”So tell me about this Great Sage.”

Nemris did not respond.

”I know she gets visions.”

Silence.

”Apparently visions involving giant hands dropping handsome strangers from the heavens.”

Still nothing.

”I assume that happens occasionally.”

Nemris finally looked at me.

”No.”

”Good. That would have reduced my sense of importance.”

She sighed softly.

Progress.

I might have been wearing her down.

”So what exactly does she do?” I asked. ”Can she predict the future whenever she wants? Does she receive random visions? Does some divine being visit her dreams and deliver mysterious prophecies with inconvenient wording?”

”Ask Lady Zeria.”

”That’s what everybody says when information becomes interesting.”

”Because she can explain her abilities better than I can.”

”See? That was useful. We’re bonding.”

”We are not.”

”I respect your optimism.”

Nemris’s tail flicked once.

That might have been irritation.

I was learning to read Lionkin body language.

Probably dangerously.

We turned into another corridor.

This one was different.

More guards.

A lot more.

Two knights stood at the intersection.

Another pair waited halfway down the hall.

At the far end, four soldiers guarded a large wooden double door.

All wore polished silver armor bearing Inizio’s golden lion.

Nobody spoke.

Their postures were alert.

Hands rested near sword hilts.

I looked around.

”Either your Sage is important or she owes somebody money.”

Nemris ignored me.

We approached the doors.

The knights saluted.

Nemris stopped.

For the first time since meeting her, I saw her take a slow breath that looked suspiciously like emotional preparation.

Interesting.

The terrifying Lord Commander needed mental preparation before entering this room.

That did not inspire confidence.

She lifted one armored hand and knocked gently.

Not military pounding.

Gentle.

Three quiet taps.

”Lady Zeria.”

Silence.

Nemris waited.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

”We have returned.”

Still nothing.

Nemris closed her eyes.

Very briefly.

That was definitely frustration.

Nemris opened the door.

She gestured.

”Inside.”

I stepped through.

And immediately wondered whether we had entered the correct room.

It was massive.

Yet it was almost empty.

No towering bookshelves.

No magical laboratory.

No glowing crystals.

No mysterious ancient artifacts humming ominously in corners.

I had expected the Great Sage’s chamber to look like magic itself had developed hoarding problems.

Instead, there was a bed.

A very large white bed covered with simple sheets.

Several chairs.

A small table.

White curtains hanging beside tall windows.

And not much else.

The afternoon sun filled the chamber.

Near one of the windows sat a girl.

At least, I assumed girl.

Young woman.

Petite.

She sat sideways on the wide windowsill, looking outside.

Her attention was so completely focused on whatever existed beyond the glass that she had apparently ignored Nemris knocking, opening the door, speaking, and bringing an allegedly divinely delivered Spriggan into her room.

Long golden hair flowed down her back.

Not Nemris’s deeper lion-gold.

Lighter.

Almost sunlight colored.

A long Lionkin tail hung over the edge of the windowsill, gently swaying.

Nemris cleared her throat.

Nothing.

She cleared it louder.

”Lady Zeria.”

The young woman turned.

For one second, her face was blank.

Distant.

Almost dreamy.

Then she saw Nemris.

Everything changed.

Her blue eyes widened.

Her entire face lit up.

”Nemris!”

Before I could process the transformation, she jumped from the windowsill.

Bare feet hit the floor.

She ran.

Not walked with sage-like dignity.

Ran.

Straight toward the Lord Commander.

Nemris’s expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just a subtle tightening around the eyes that said she knew exactly what was coming and had long ago accepted defeat.

Zeria launched herself at her.

Nemris caught her automatically.

The Great Sage wrapped both arms around Nemris’s armored shoulders.

”I missed you!”

I stared.

Nemris remained upright beneath the assault.

”You saw me this morning.”

”You’ve been gone forever.”

”I was absent for several hours.”

”Several hours can be forever if they’re boring.”

Zeria rubbed her cheek against Nemris’s shoulder.

Actually rubbed it.

Like an affectionate cat with administrative authority.

I stared harder.

Nemris noticed me staring.

Her expression became even more severe.

”Lady Zeria.”

”Hmm?”

”We have company.”

Zeria froze.

Slowly, her head turned.

She saw me.

I gave a small wave.

”Hi.”

For exactly one second, we stared at each other.

Then Zeria released Nemris immediately.

She landed on her feet.

Straightened her dress.

Folded her hands politely in front of her.

And transformed into what I assumed she believed a Great Sage should look like.

The effect would have been stronger if I had not just watched her tackle-hug the Lord Commander.

She cleared her throat.

”Greetings.”

Nemris stared at her.

Zeria ignored that.

”I am Zeria, Great Sage of the Kingdom of Inizio.”

I looked her over.

This was the woman whose vision had apparently triggered an armed retrieval mission.

She was short.

Petite enough that Nemris looked enormous beside her.

Her skin was pale.

Her blue eyes were bright and expressive.

The long golden hair framed a youthful face that looked far more suited to smiling than delivering cryptic prophecies.

Her Lionkin ears matched her hair, soft golden fur rising through the strands.

The tail behind her moved constantly, apparently lacking Nemris’s professional discipline.

She wore a simple one-piece white dress decorated with tiny embroidered flowers in blue and gold.

And she was barefoot.

No shoes.

No jewelry declaring sacred office.

No staff.

No crown.

No floating magical objects.

She looked like someone had invited a cheerful noblewoman to a garden picnic and accidentally given her one of the highest-ranking positions in the kingdom.

I had questions.

So many questions.

I placed a hand against my chest.

”Caled Morningwood.”

Zeria’s eyes brightened again.

She approached me.

Slowly at first.

Then faster.

Her gaze moved over my face with open fascination.

Not Nemris’s suspicious assessment.

Something closer to excitement.

She stopped directly in front of me.

”You really do look exactly the same.”

I raised an eyebrow.

”As what?”

”My vision.”

There it was.

She circled slightly.

Not fully around me.

Just enough to examine me from another angle.

”The hair. The face. Your clothing is different now, but everything else is right.”

”So you saw me clearly?”

”Very.”

”Including the giant hand?”

Her smile widened.

”Especially the hand.”

Interesting.

Very interesting.

I looked at her.

She looked back.

Then I said, ”You don’t look anything like I expected.”

Nemris’s stare hit the side of my skull.

I could feel it.

Zeria, fortunately, looked delighted.

”What did you expect?”

I considered lying.

Then remembered who I was.

”Older.”

Zeria blinked.

”Older?”

”And quieter.”

Her mouth slowly opened.

I continued.

”When someone says Great Sage, I imagine an ancient woman sitting inside a tower surrounded by books, speaking in riddles, possibly owning an owl.”

Zeria started laughing.

Actually laughing.

Not dignified sage laughter.

Bright, genuine laughter.

Nemris’s eyes narrowed at me.

I pretended not to notice.

Zeria wiped beneath one eye.

”An owl?”

”It felt appropriate.”

”Why an owl?”

”Wisdom branding.”

She laughed again.

Then studied me.

”How old are you?”

”Twenty-four.”

Her expression became immediately smug.

Oh no.

I recognized smug.

Smug was dangerous on cheerful women.

Zeria placed both hands behind her back.

”I’m twenty-six.”

I stared.

She leaned forward slightly.

”So I’m older than you.”

”Mathematically, yes.”

”Two whole years.”

”I understand subtraction.”

Her smile turned mischievous.

”Then you should call me Big Sister Zeria.”

Silence.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

Nemris inhaled sharply.

”Lady Zeria.”

Zeria waved one hand without looking away from me.

”Ignore Nemris.”

Nemris’s jaw tightened.

”You’ll become accustomed to her eventually,” Zeria added.

I glanced toward Nemris.

Nemris stared back like she was mentally selecting where to bury me.

”I certainly hope so.”

”You won’t,” Nemris said.

”See?” Zeria said. ”She’s already participating.”

I smiled.

Nemris did not.

Zeria turned toward her.

”Nemris, you can leave us.”

That changed the atmosphere slightly.

Nemris hesitated.

Only a moment.

But I saw it.

Her gaze moved to me.

Then back to Zeria.

”Lady Zeria.”

”I’ll be fine.”

Nemris looked unconvinced.

Zeria smiled brightly.

”Go.”

The Lord Commander turned toward me.

Her posture became rigid.

Her voice became colder.

”Understand this clearly.”

I raised both hands slightly.

”I am excellent at clear understanding.”

”Lady Zeria is one of the most important individuals in Inizio.”

Zeria made a small face behind her.

Nemris continued.

”Her authority and value to this kingdom are exceeded only by His Majesty.”

I nodded.

”King first, Sage second.”

”Correct.”

”So behave.”

”I always behave.”

Nemris stared.

I reconsidered.

”Statistically, perhaps not always.”

”Caled.”

Zeria laughed quietly.

Nemris ignored her.

”If anything happens to her while you are here...”

She did not finish.

She did not need to.

That was one advantage of being an armored Lionkin commander.

Threats could apparently be delivered entirely through eye contact.

I nodded solemnly.

”I’ll make sure no dangerous furniture attacks her.”

Nemris’s expression did something complicated.

Possibly pain.

Possibly regret about bringing me here.

Zeria waved both hands.

”Goodbye, Nemris!”

Nemris turned toward her.

”I will be nearby.”

”I know.”

”Call if you need anything.”

”I know.”

”Anything.”

”Nemris.”

The Lord Commander sighed.

Then she walked toward the doors.

Before leaving, she looked back at me one final time.

I smiled.

She did not.

The doors closed behind her.

The sound echoed softly through the enormous chamber.

Then silence settled.

I looked toward the door.

Then toward Zeria.

She looked back at me.

Just like that, the armored chaperone was gone.

The only people left in the room were me and Zeria, the Great Sage of Inizio.