“The bastard cheated with his goddamn mage tower in the form of a horse. You have to look out for that. Glory to the Kingdom, Zogar.” Manohar said.
Zogar Vastor had heard those words countless times, yet he hadn’t spoken them in years. It was the battle cry of the Kingdom that its loyal citizens yelled when performing an act of valor or the ultimate sacrifice.
Vastor hated the Kingdom for how he had been treated and for all the lives he had taken in its name as a Highmaster. He resented its citizens for the way every young talented mage was treated because nobility and commoners alike were envious and scared of their talent.
The Master knew that the war with Thrud was imminent and had been pondering which side to take, if any.
Joining the victor was the most rational and convenient choice, especially after Lith had told Vastor about the Mad Queen’s shapeshifters and her involvement with the Undead Courts.
Yet those words changed everything.
“Glory to the Kingdom, Krishna.” Vastor nodded.
The communication ended, leaving the Master looking at his amulet for a few seconds before his grief and fury spread to his Abomination-Hybrids.
The same bond that allowed them to share their emotions and dimensional coordinates now spurred them to wage war against the Mad Queen.
***
“I can’t believe that asshole waited until my final day to call me by my first name.” Manohar clicked his tongue in disapproval.
He was done with Vastor and his energy was flickering too much to waste one more second. He had two calls left to make, but Marth’s took priority.
“Thank the gods you are alright, Krishna. I knew that madman was full of it when-”
“Not you too, Duke! Birds of a feather do flock together! I’m dead and I’m running out of time.” Manohar said, shattering every hope Marth had left after seeing his radiant body.
“How is it possible?”
“Cheating, of course. Orpal had no chance in a fair fight.” The Mad Professor pouted at the memory of his defeat, almost reconsidering Vastor’s offer.
Almost.
“Horsemen have mage towers for steeds so don’t leave your academy at any cost. One of them managed to kill me even though she chose a moron as her host. Imagine what they could do to you.”
“You can’t have called me just to insult me one last time. Come back to the academy, there must be something we can do to save your life!” Marth said in outrage and denial.
“If it sounded like an insult, I apologize. I just worry about you.” It was then that Duke Marth knew that his beloved alumnus and dear friend was really dead.
Manohar never apologized.
“I called you because I wanted to warn you of the threat at hand. I know for certain that Thrud and the Undead Courts are in cahoots but they’ll do everything they can to make it look otherwise.” The god of healing said.
“I’ll let the Royals know.” Marth nodded.
In death, even the Court’s old fogeys wouldn’t doubt Manohar’s words, thinking that Orpal must have told him something during their fight. Now that he had shared the last piece of knowledge that Lith had entrusted to him, Krishna Manohar felt at peace.
“I also called you to thank you for being my only true friend. A lot of people always tried to get close to me, but you were the only one who actually cared about me. You had me eat my meals regularly and forced me to exercise.
“You spent your free time with me, no matter how much I annoyed you or how much trouble I made. You have been a great teacher and I’m sure you’ll be an even greater Headmaster and father.
“Please, take good care of Manohar junior and of Manohar the third in my stead. Make sure that they grow loving light magic and hating boring people. There’s a secret compartment in the right drawer of my desk.
“I left there a manual there that should teach them Light Mastery, if they have the brains for it. It’s my legacy, and I entrust it to you to pass it onto them and only them. Can you do it for me?” The Mad Professor said with a soft smile that had nothing mad about it.
“You want to annoy me until your last moment, huh? Even now you give me nothing but trouble and try to burden with your crap even my unborn child.” Marth tried to chuckle, but it came out as a sob.
“Yeah. My Mom is gone and you are the only family I have left.” Manohar nodded.
“I’ll do it.” Marth started to cry, unable to hold back anymore. “I swear to you that no one else will read that manual, not even me.”
Manohar’s construct faded and so did the call.
Marth would have collapsed to the floor if not for his wife, Ryssa the Dryad, holding and bringing him to the nearest chair. Her pregnancy was nearly full-term, but her inhuman physique allowed her to lift an adult man even in her condition.
Marth held his wife tight, feeling her warmth and the kid’s movement through her swollen belly. He wanted to be strong for them and for the Kingdom, yet all he felt was pain.
“Cry all you want.” Ryssa said while caressing his head as Marth cried softly.
She looked like a gorgeous woman in her mid-twenties, about 1.73 meters (5’8″). She had wheat-blond straight hair that fell like a waterfall down to the small of her back and light green skin.
Ryssa had big yellow eyes, that sparkled like masterfully cut pieces of amber. Her visage was simply stunning, from her delicate features to her full lips.
“If you want, we can really call our child Manohar junior.”
“Are you really okay with this? I know that you never liked him.” Marth asked.
The god of healing had been many things, but a kind man had never been one of them. He resented Ryssa in particular because he blamed her for having stolen his best friend from him.
“He was arrogant, condescending, and obnoxious.” Ryssa snarled at all the memories of Manohar being Manohar to her. “Yet he was also your precious friend and he loved our child as much as we do.
“I have no problem with honoring his memory, but only on two conditions.”
“Anything.” Marth managed to calm down as if giving to his child the name of his lost friend would keep a part of Manohar alive.
“It must be a second name. I’d love for our kid to be a genius, but not if that means spending my life chasing them like Sitri did.” Ryssa said. “Also, I want you to find whoever took our friend away from us and make them pay.”
***
Manohar had just a spark of life left, but Lith’s amulet was unavailable. He had started calling Kamila, then Zinya, and now Jirni because he considered them the weakest among those who had received the Orpal card.
The god of healing had no choice but to leave him a message.
“Lith, remember my words. It doesn’t matter how long you have left. Don’t waste time crying my death or pursuing something as pointless as revenge. Choose life, and then live.”
