Trinity of Magic

After days of rushed travel, the familiar gate loomed large before the weary convoy.

Miriel looked up, a complex mix of feelings rising within her chest. After being driven out of her home and barely escaping with her life, she had almost given up hope of ever returning here again.

Yet that day had now arrived. Much sooner than she could ever have anticipated.

There was joy, yes, but also bitterness. With the backing of the powerful mercenary companies hired by the elves, Miriel had been steadily increasing her influence. Many already called her the new queen, pledging their undying loyalty.

But Miriel wasn’t foolish enough to trust such promises.

She wasn’t the queen, and she would never be, not as long as her mother lived.

Before an Exarch, any level of support she could muster would be utterly meaningless. Besides, who among her current followers could truly hold to their promises when they stood face to face with her mother? The very woman who had ruled the country for centuries?

Her position was rooted as deeply as the World Tree, reaching into every stratum of influence in Rukia.

Miriel turned her head, watching the endless procession behind her. This would, more likely than not, be the last time in a while that she would be able to lead such a force.

All the more important that she made full use of this moment.

She rose from her throne-like seat, stepping along the large platform carried on the back of a hulking beast native to the eastern regions. Standing so high above them, she had an excellent vantage point and was also easily visible to the troops following behind.

“Brothers and sisters,” she called loudly. “Hear my words.”

Many heads rose at her call, the monotony of their march broken by the sudden announcement.

“The capital is in sight. My home, our home, is almost within our grasp.”

She saw the expressions of several of her followers change. These men and women, just like herself, had likely also given up hope of ever returning.

“Months ago, we were driven out, overwhelmed by the despicable assault of an enemy who knows no honor. They slaughtered our people, desecrated our ancestral halls, and drove us from our homes, robbing us of everything we had.”

Expressions changed, teeth ground, and weapons tightened in clenched fists.

“But today, that all changes,” she announced proudly. “Today, I, Miriel Arden Rukia, will reclaim our ancestral home. Once and for all!”

Cheers followed. Spears struck shields, voices rose in wild chants, and praise rang out from every direction.

Miriel was pleased. This was the reaction she had hoped for. If this was truly going to be her last chance to stand above them like this, then she would not waste it. She would etch herself deeply into the hearts of every one of these people.

She would return a conqueror, a savior.

As for her lofty promises? She wasn’t worried in the slightest. Her group was not the first to arrive, and she already knew that the city was safe. That was why she dared to speak so boldly.

Traveling in high spirits, they soon reached the northern gate.

As they passed through, Miriel looked up at the towering walls. They had been constructed from black wood, cultivated by her mother since before she was born.

Even now, after the city had endured the siege of an enemy army for months, they remained unbroken. Yet the illusion of safety they had once given her had long since shattered.

She remembered clearly the day when the Empire’s Wind Mages had soared over its considerable height, assaulting the city from the sky. Earthen ramps had been raised along its length, providing convenient steps for regular soldiers to reach the top.

Their wall, standing proud for centuries, hadn’t even slowed these attackers.

With a sigh, she banished these memories and finally stepped through the gate.

Her eyes, momentarily blinded by the sudden change from dark to bright, took a moment to adjust.

Then she saw it.

Her home, or what was left of it.

The city, though not completely in ruin, had changed.

While most everyday homes had been left largely untouched, she noticed that the true landmarks had all disappeared. She couldn’t see the distant silhouette of the Thousand Forest Library. The tower of the Verdant Root Academy had vanished from the skyline, and the great garrison of the Sons of the Forest had been erased without a trace.

Miriel felt a pang in her heart. Each of these buildings had represented one of the cornerstones of Rukia. The library contained their magical accomplishments and cultural heritage, the academy had the facilities to nurture the next generation, and the garrison had been their military command post.

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But now, they were gone, torn from the land without even leaving any roots.

Her hand tightened slightly.

Shouldn’t Mother… have protected them?

Though her mother wasn’t omnipotent, likely ranking among the weaker rulers of her generation, she was still an Exarch.

In Miriel’s opinion, there should have been no way for the Legion to do whatever they pleased within the city.

Pushing down her doubts, Miriel pressed deeper into the city. Her troops followed in silence. Their earlier excitement continuously dimmed as they entered behind her.

Miriel couldn’t blame them. Even for her, seeing the city in such a state was hard to bear.

They soon made their way to the center of the northern district, Clearview Plaza. It was a place of commerce and leisure, where merchants would offer various goods and families would enjoy their days off.

But right now, the space was deserted.

“I’ve never seen the city this quiet,” someone behind her said. In the stillness, his voice was loud enough to carry. “It’s like we’ve entered a ghost town.”

Miriel bit her lip. She had also noticed it. The city… was utterly deserted. Though she had expected the people to have fled the outermost districts, it was still unexpected not to meet even a single person after all this time.

Shouldn’t the people already have come out of hiding? The enemy had departed days ago.

“Let’s make for the palace,” she ordered, forcing steadiness into her voice. “All will be clear when we meet Mother.”

The advance along the main street continued, the long procession of soldiers stretching all the way back to the northern gate. Yet the mood didn’t match the occasion.

Even Miriel didn’t feel like posturing anymore. All her intentions of using this chance to bolster her political capital had disappeared. The further she went, the stronger the unease in her heart became.

This feeling only doubled after they reached the inner region.

They still hadn’t encountered a single person.

Only when they reached the outskirts of the palace district did they finally run into a group of people. But Miriel wasn’t relieved, for these people weren’t her own but part of a mercenary band hailing from Tradespire.

The moment the group spotted her, they hurried over.

“Your Highness,” the leader called out. “We’ve been ordered to wait for your arrival.”

Miriel recognized him. This man was the second in command of Marek Volst. His group had been the first to reach the capital and the one to report that the city held no enemies.

Miriel nodded at him. “Where is Mr. Volst?”

“Apologies, Your Highness, the commander isn’t here,” the man explained. “We picked up the traces of the Legion, and he has given chase.”

Miriel nodded thoughtfully. Naturally, she knew what Marek was trying to do. By chasing after a fleeing enemy, he was hoping to score some last-minute achievements and increase his contributions.

Though she couldn’t be bothered to point that out right now. Worry had already gripped her heart.

“Then I will ask you. What is the situation within the palace?”

“Reporting to Your Highness, we didn’t enter.”

“Didn’t… enter?”

The man’s expression turned bitter. “We tried.”

Miriel understood immediately. The royal palace wasn’t a dead thing. It was her mother’s most precious possession, cultivated over centuries. She had even paid a tremendous price to invite Cassius Leafless to help in its construction. The entire building was a living thing, the very embodiment of nature itself.

She had heard her mother say more than once that in case of an attack, it could be put in a defensive state, preventing anyone under the Archmage level from entering. Even those at that level would have to pay a price.

She had dismissed it back then, but it seemed her mother had not been lying.

If Marek and his people could have entered, they certainly would have. The riches held within the palace alone could dwarf the rest of the city. Such temptation wasn’t something a mere mercenary could withstand.

But the man’s words still made her furrow her brows.

“Mother hasn’t responded at all?”

The man shook his head. “We’ve not been able to meet the Queen.”

Miriel’s eyes grew even more serious. “Wait for me,” she ordered, taking large steps toward the entrance.

Before anyone could stop her, she reached the inner courtyard. There, she found half a dozen corpses, pierced through the heart by vines. The wooden tendrils still coiled around them, rooted deep into the stone below. These men hadn’t been dead for long, their bodies still dripping with blood. Likely, they were the unlucky mercenaries who had tried to enter forcefully.

Miriel felt no pity for them. No one snuck into the palace for honorable reasons.

She stepped past them without a second glance. She didn’t fear an attack from the palace. Her blood, the blood of her family, was like a key that opened every door.

As expected, she found her path unobstructed. Her steps grew faster and faster, until she was running with all her might. She made for the deepest part of the palace, the great chamber where her mother spent most of her day entertaining visitors and hearing requests.

She burst through the doors, her eyes locking onto the magnificent throne in the center of the room.

It stood empty.

Miriel turned on her heels, making for her mother’s chambers.

Nothing.

Miriel didn’t even feel the passage of time as she began searching the palace room by room, floor by floor. From the kitchen to the treasury, from cold hearths to stripped shelves, she found neither a single living soul nor so much as a single grain of rice left behind.

Her frantic search gradually transformed into a feeling of dull repetition, and by the time she had reached the last room, she was completely numb.

Her steps, once spirited, had grown sluggish and slow. She didn’t even know where she was going anymore, only coming back to her senses when she reached the highest floor of the palace and stepped out onto the large balcony.

From here, she could observe the entire city.

The wind tousled her hair with familiar gentleness. She had often stood here, marveling at the beauty of the city and the prosperity of their lands.

But now, that very same wind felt cold, and the city, though many of its streets still stood, looked like a graveyard to her. She slowly turned, searching every cardinal direction, only to find the same thing everywhere.

Nobody was left.

This city, once home to almost a million people, was completely deserted. Not a single soul had been left behind.

Her mind went blank.

It took her a long while before she could finally begin to think clearly again. But she almost wished she couldn’t.

Only then did the shape of the future settle over her.

The people in the capital, the best and brightest in all of Rukia, were gone.

Their archives? Stolen.

Their school? Razed to the ground.

Their military? Decimated.

Their treasury? Plundered.

The Queen? Gone without a trace.

A cold shiver went down Miriel’s spine.

Hours ago, she had regretted the fact that her time as queen would be so short. But now, she wished for nothing more than to shed this burdensome identity.

Even if she were to become queen now, she would rule over nothing. Rukia’s very foundation had been severed at the root.

She felt completely overwhelmed.

How was she supposed to rebuild a kingdom from an empty shell?