Somewhere, The System was laughing. I could almost hear its digital guffaws from here – in the court of Matriarch Oryore, high on the Maree Cliffs. The bastard had set me up from the moment I met him back in Brooklyn. Or, at the very least, since orientation. The scope of what the Oedipus Protocol was just beginning to dawn upon me as I approached Oryore’s throne. There were six steps in the quest. I naturally assumed they must have been relationship milestones with Jasmine. Marriage was the first step and there were five more to attain after that. Now, however, I was beginning to see that The System had something else in mind entirely.
I tried to push the thoughts away as I bowed at Oryore’s feet. Her throne was a golden perch with ornate engravings running up the base. The ends of the perch were capped with thick supportive braces that ran up and then behind her, forming a seat and armrests. The perch was backless – its designer opting instead to build an intricate stained-glass window behind her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought it was lit with LEDs with the way that it glowed even at this dusky hour. I realized that the window was likely enchanted to emit a bright, never-ending glow.
“Matriarch,” I said, putting on my best diplomatic voice. Everyone was still under the misapprehension that I was an emissary of some sort, and I was determined to not disabuse them of that idea.
“Emissary,” she acknowledged my greeting with a slight inclination of her head. “Tell me, where are you from, and why have you come unannounced to my Volary?”
“I do apologize for the intrusion, Your Majesty,” I said. Her face twitched in amusement at the title I’d given her. I assumed that meant she’d never heard it before. “I hail from The Plains of Eidolon, and my appearance here is mostly due to a series of unfortunate accidents. Though, I am very pleased that it’s led to a personal audience with the Queen, obviously.”
“You may want to tamp down your gratitude until I have decided what I’m going to do with you, Emissary Rockland. Now, tell me about your homeland and these…’accidents’ you mentioned.”
I swallowed, hard. Then, I began to explain The Plains, the eidolon, the situation with Jasmine and Brakk. I told her about my expedition into the northlands in search of resources for my people. The Nephil Ruins conveniently never came up in conversation, so I simply didn’t mention that part. The tale ended with the Crab Grass encounter and eventually my confrontation with Brakk.
“So, I was basically just clinging to the cliffs and trying to work my way around to finding a way out of the situation when your guards found me,” I concluded. “And that’s what has led me to stand here before you now.”
“Orcs,” she huffed in bemusement. “I fear we have had some recent encounters with their race, as well. From the intel my people have given me, I am of the understanding that a contingent of the orc population is seeking an alliance of sorts with my Volary. I suspect that my own daughter may even be holding discussions to that effect behind my back.”
I nodded as she peered at me, assessing my reaction. She seemed to be doing that a lot. It made interacting with her much more difficult than it was with Jasmine. It gave me the same feeling I’d had while clinging to the cliffside. Every step I took felt like a life and death decision.
“Have you met with any of these orcs personally? Obviously, I don’t wish to pry into state business, but I may be able to identify them for you.”
“I have not,” she said, her gaze softening slightly. Apparently, I’d avoided a loose handhold with that answer. “Nor do I intend to. We have no need of such an alliance, and we certainly have no interest in serving the interests of a singular orc clan. Their presence here does raise some concern for me, however. Not the least of which being my daughter. As next in line for the throne, she seeks to prove herself worthy. It makes me…diffident as to the lengths she might go to achieve that goal.”
“That is a completely valid concern. If I’m able to find any information in my interactions with the orc people I’d be more than happy to keep you in the loop,” I offered.
“In…the loop?”
“It’s an idiom. Sorry about that, Your Majesty. What I mean is that I am perfectly willing to supply you with information regarding your orc problem, should I stumble across any.”
She looked at me for a moment and then tilted her head.
“You keep calling me that. ‘Your Majesty’. Do you truly find me that majestic?”
“It’s an honorific from my original homeland. We used it when speaking to royalty. Well…other people did. Mostly on TV. It does feel fitting in this case, though. To be perfectly honest, I’m unsure of the actual honorific to use for a harpy matriarch. You are the first I’ve ever met.”
An ever so slight grin crept along her lips for the briefest of moments.
“I am Oryore, High Wing of the Maree Volary, Sky-Mother, She of the Rending Wind. My subjects simply refer to me as mother.” She paused for a moment before adding, “However, I do think I like ‘Your Majesty’. You may continue referring to me with deference to my majesty.”
“Thank you,” I said, bowing and trying to conceal a smile. “Your majesty is only surpassed by your generosity, Sky-Mother.”
She looked at me skeptically for a moment, then nodded in acceptance of the compliment, sarcastic as it may have been.
“I have decided that you may live, Rockland. Your homelands…The Plains of Eidolon, was it? Would its leader be amenable to an alliance, of sorts? We would seem to have a common nuisance with which to contend.”
I smiled. “Why don’t we discuss that a little more? I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”
The wind was deafening. Oryore, having decided to take me home herself on what she was calling a diplomatic visit, carried me through the skies at what I was fairly certain was roughly the same speed as your average Boeing passenger jet. More disturbingly, we were also in the ballpark of a jet’s cruising altitude. The giant, Empire State-sized pines of the northern forests below looked perfectly mundane from our height. The speed at which they scrolled beneath us made me queasy. I tried to focus on other things. On the plus side, I felt perfectly secure in Oryore’s grip. Her claws were absolute vice grips as she carried me by the biceps. I noticed that her talons had very pretty runic engravings on them which glowed faintly in varying colors. Some of them I recognized from my studies. Most, I did not.
“Who does your talons?” I asked. “They are magnificent.”
We had to talk to one another through the system messenger, as we could not hear one another over the roar of the wind. I noticed that some of her royal demeanor slipped a bit when she spoke to me in text form.
“Do you like them? I have a specialist in the Volary who takes care of them for me once a week.”
“How does she get them so shiny? Or is that just your natural sheen? The guards were all chipped and flat. Yours are like volcano glass.”
I may have been laying it on a little thick, but there was no harm in complimenting a lady on her nails, right? Plus, I honestly did want to know who did such a good job on her talons. Maybe they’d have some tricks they could share with Moira. I could sense that Oryore was enjoying the topic, in any event. Under all that regality and solemn pride, she was a gossip girl – a trait I found to be both hilarious and endearing.
“She uses the wax from a particular species of hornet near the Volary. She also makes a tincture from some sort of mint. It’s very soothing. Helps tremendously with my hangnails. I can have her give you the details, if you’d like.”
“OH MY GOD PLEASE DO,” I said, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “If we can get her in contact with my nail person, that would be fantastic. I get hangnails literally all of the time.”
“You too?? It’s such a pain. Introduce me to this servant of yours when we reach The Plains. I will share my specialist’s contact with her.”
“You are a life saver, Your Majesty. I can’t tell you how nice it is to have someone actually relate to the problem. Most everyone I know just makes fun of me for it.”
“What? That’s horrible. It’s a medical condition. Why would they mock you for it?”
“That’s what I keep saying!”
While we were chatting, I also sent a message to Jasmine to let her know I was on my way back home. But mostly, I messaged her so that she could expect company. Royal company. I knew she would want to make a good impression, so it seemed only appropriate to give her the heads up. Apparently, I’d done so just in time as she was only just returning from some sort of excursion. She chided me for bringing home guests on such short warning but calmed slightly when I told her that I may have found a potential ally against Brakk.
As The Plains started to come into view in the distance, I could see that my little town had grown significantly in my absence. It hadn’t been that long since I’d departed on my little foraging mission, but Urz and the others had apparently been hard at work getting things set up. As we got closer, I could see some of the eidolon bustling around town. That was encouraging to see – signs of life, even among the unliving. I pointed down toward Jasmine’s outpost and shot Oryore a message letting her know that we should set down in that general vicinity.
Jasmine, of course, was waiting with about half of the hundred orcs living in her outpost standing behind her in rank and file. She was wearing her gold armor and even from here, I could feel a tinge of her aura. Oryore must have felt it as well, since a moment later her aura was released at what I had to assume was full capacity. Even with Moxie giving me a boost, the strength of her aura made me nervous. The feeling only compounded as we got closer and I could feel the push and pull of both women’s auras. They seemed to be feeling each other out, testing one another or perhaps communicating in some way that a person of my level couldn’t even comprehend. All I knew as Oryore dropped me gently onto the ground was that I had never been happier to have grass beneath my feet than I was in that moment.
I ran my fingers through my hair with one hand as I approached Jasmine, trying to tame the windswept nest atop my skull. Her eyes were fixed on Oryore. She only looked at me once I was standing right in front of her. I reached down, took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips.
“I missed you,” I said.
“It looks like you had company in my absence,” she said, smiling briefly at my sentiment before turning her eyes back to Oryore.
“Ah. Jasmine, allow me to introduce you to Sky-Mother Oryore of the Maree Volary and…a bunch of other titles that I can’t quite recall, at the moment.”
I threw an apologetic look to Oryore.
“Sorry about that. Your Majesty, this is Jasmine Irontusk, Matriarch of the Irontusk Clan, member of the Slagfall Council, and founder of the Foothills Outpost. Also…my wife. I like that last part the best, honestly.”
“Flatterer,” Jasmine accused. “It is an honor to meet you, Sky-Mother.”
“He does have that propensity, it seems. Please, call me Oryore. We are both matriarchs and therefore stand as equals.”
“As you wish. In that case, I ask that you also refer to me by my name – Jasmine.”
They were being very polite and friendly with their words but standing between the two of them was like being trapped between two opposing tidal currents. Their auras were pushing back and forth against each other, and I was there trapped in the middle like a buoy with no anchor.
“Jasmine. Sky-Mother. If you don’t mind…can we call it a draw on the aura arm wrestling? Jasmine’s poor honor guard is on the verge of apoplexy and I am getting a fairly severe migraine. No offense intended, of course.”
Nothing changed for a moment as the two women stared at one another, but then a subtle shift took place. Jasmine let her aura recede the tiniest amount, and Oryore soon followed suit. Before long, both had retracted their auras completely.
“Apologies, Rockland,” Oryore said. “It is…unusual…for people of our level to meet like this. It is even more rare when those people are from different species. When we do meet, it is most often followed by bloodshed.”
“Well, we’ve avoided that so far. I call that progress.”
“I apologize to you as well, Jasmine. I am a guest in your home. I should not have made such a spectacle of myself.”
“Nonsense,” Jasmine said. “If you didn’t, I would never have believed you were a matriarch. You are a powerful woman. I see no reason to hide that fact from a potential ally.”
“You speak truly. May we adjourn somewhere more private to continue this conversation?”
“Of course,” Jasmine said. “Let’s go to Rocky’s headquarters. My quarters are under construction right now, for reasons that appear to be top secret.” She shot me a glance and I averted my eyes, desperate to find other things to look at. Oh hey, Shrek was there. What do you know? I waved. He ignored me completely, the traitor.