Chapter Seventy-two

Chirbon set his glass down, raising a pipe to his lips and took a long drag. *You have at least two swords. I will do anything I can to release Mary, and Gareth would give his life. What will you do with her when you get her?*

*Take her home to the Princess Volencia, my betrothed. She is also pregnant.* Damion hadn’t wanted this to get out, and prayed that the Chiaro was being true to his word. *No one here knows, but Gregron. Possibly Cala.*

*I shall keep this secret myself too then. What is your plan?*

An unspoken bond was formed. Chirbon was familiar with speaking through the mind, which Damion hadn’t expected. He pretended to relax, stretching his long legs out. As expected, the movement brought Claven’s attention back to him.

Damion made up one of the shrimp, trying to hand it to Gregron, but he frowned at it, refusing. The conversation waned, and Damion let his eyes wander the room. Gregron was stiff as a board, especially with Claven now speaking to Reniza in whispers over his shoulder. The Chirobi was waiting for an answer. Gareth, King of the human’s watching everyone angrily. Jaquisis had no idea what was going on, and the dwarves spoke fast complicated dwarvish Damion couldn’t follow, but often their eyes landed on him and Gregron. Damion leaned back, smiling at his protector. “You know what they’re saying?”

“Who?” Gregron frowned.

“The dwarves. I can read their language, but they speak so fast... I can’t keep up.”

“Maybe?” Damion frowned, drinking the rest of the piss poor beer before sipping the wine. He felt Gregron’s hot breath in his ear a few minutes later. “Cala wants to join you, Jerellathrethial does not. They are arguing.”

Damion sighed, they’d been here for nearly two hours. Shorter than he expected, longer than he wanted. “I have a question, and I would like anyone who feels a pull to answer, please do so. Is that acceptable, Claven?”

“Of course.” Claven smiled warmly, but Damion didn’t think he’d like what he was going to say.

“My question is this: Why is it that you believe females don’t deserve to be treated as normal folk? They carry our future. They are the reason we survive at all. The glue that keeps us coming back and provide the love we need to rise. Why treat them as slaves... or worse?” He finished his wine at the end of the question, almost immediately regretting it. A few of them raised their chins, a few looked away, their shoulders slumping. It was Claven and Reniza who smiled back.

The quiet around them settled. “Well,” Reniza countered, “we all know, they’re not less important.” When the fairy King’s eyes met his, Damion felt like it meant the world. “We need them to reproduce, of course.” His shoulders fell slightly. “History shows, however, when they are under the control of us, the world runs more smoothly. We don’t believe we should be forced to choose one when we can own as many as we’d like.” His visage said differently. “Males are happier with more, and always have been. We want to help rebalance the world. Back where it should have been at the beginning. When women were child bearers. The job of being the family center is going astray.”

“Perhaps because it’s been underappreciated?” Damion felt his jaw tighten.

*Carefully.* Chirbon warned again.

“Ultimately, since the male controls the females, they can choose to treat them however they would like. The better she listens, the better she’ll be treated of course.” Claven added, rolling a hand through the air.

Gareth’s eyes met Damion’s and the Chirobi’s voice echoed through his head. *Unless they can use her for leverage or to make us see the error of our ways. Then they get to torture our wives and daughters so that we’re under their thumb.*

“Or unless they’re not the same race and you believe neither get a choice in the matter. A man, after all, must buy or earn his property.” Aveline glared. When Damion met her eyes, a fire burned there. “We’re treated worse than dogs. Doesn’t matter if we listen or not. I’ve already had to pleasure six men today alone. And you’re on the list for later. Just a gift to be passed around.”

Reniza’s hand flew through the air, the slap echoed through Damion’s bones, a number of them flinched. It was Cala who jumped to his feet, the other dwarf restraining him. “You belong to me and will serve anyone I see fit. You already gave away your precious jewel, no point in pretending you’re some chaste virgin.”

Damion cleared his throat. “So, I would have the option and right, to marry and hold the power to refuse to allow anyone else from touching her?” Damion asked, avoiding Gareth’s death gaze.

“Of course. She would be yours.”

*No, you would not. Especially the Princess of Thambair.* Chirbon’s eyes met his.

Gareth stood, “Just don’t fall in love. That’s when she becomes a better tool for them to force their motives on you. Why let you have your *property* if they have a better use for it? Though, I suppose that won’t really matter for you. Elves don’t love and care nothing for others.”

Claven smiled at Gareth as he walked passed them all. “We talked about what would happen if you didn’t keep that opinion to yourself.”

“My point exactly.” Gareth nodded at him, “But what’s the point in asking questions if they’re going to drizzle non-existent honey over the truth to hide the fact they’re offering you garbage.”

“You have a death wish?” Chirbon shot out of his seat, grabbing Gareth’s shoulders and pushing him away from the crowd and out of the alcove, though Damion could still hear them whispering angrily at each other. He couldn’t make out their words. There was a slap and Gareth’s angry tone, “No, they have my pregnant wife, it’s not the same.”

Chirbon joined them again shortly after, looking more haggard and worn. He sighed, dropping into Gareth’s seat, which was right across from Damion. “Another glass?” He held up the vintage bottle of wine and poured himself a heaping glass.

“No. Thank you.” Damion focused on the food again.

“I’d like for you to understand,” Claven rounded the couch, sitting and tucking an arm around Aveline’s shoulders. “He is not cooperating with us, we understand he’s in a hard position right now, but as close as we finally are to our goal, I hope you can see we are only doing what is necessary.”

Damion had to work to keep his features from giving away his true feelings. “I too have had to do what is necessary.” He nodded, popping a fruity tart into his mouth. The dark-haired slave sat beside him on the chair he was in and cuddled close. “I’d prefer you not sit there.” Damion looked down at her.

“Oh, come now, you haven’t enjoyed any of my toys yet.” Claven comment, his eyes narrowing.

“Sorry, they’re not exactly the type I enjoy keeping personal company with.” Damion smiled, and hoped it looked sincere.

“So, tell us, what is your type?” Cala asked, watching him.

Damion stood when the slave didn’t, “Apologies, that if for my own knowledge, and no one elses’. Though, I do have another question.” Claven waived his hand for Damion to continue. “I’ve heard that one of the reasons you’re so interested in Thambair is because the academy is there, and you want to make sure all magic goes through the school; thus procuring the extinction of the Master and Apprentice relationship. To the point that trying to teach someone magic outside your regimented system could be seen as treason.”

“When you say it like that, the idea sounds horrible.” Claven watched him with careful eyes. “It’s much simpler really. We want to make sure all folk are honored with the same care. When you speak of Master and Apprentice, you are only learning from one person. We simply want to widen that perspective. To make sure that ideals match with our own. Again, it comes down to needing to rebalance the world. It will also help us keep tabs on what sorceresses are learning, so that they don’t try to overpower as history has proven they will, time and again. True Apprenticeships are going to be honored, just overseen by the Arch Mage. There's a whole system that has been created, though I’d have to reference you to Lock for additional information on how it will all work. He has it all figured out.”

“And what of someone like me? I did not go to the academy and wouldn’t have done well there. Having two forms of magic, with someone who isn’t as strong as I am teaching me would only have hindered what I was able to become. Doesn’t that bother you? That not everyone will be able to fit into these boxes you’re creating. And what of the Princess Volencia? She has the ability to be one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world. Why dampen something that could be beneficial to all of Rhelia simply because she was born with the wrong reproductive parts?”

“These are all special circumstances. Which we will have the deal with on a one-by-one situation. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s a system that was created to work better for the balance of the world. With her, we can’t let her have access to unknown power to do with as she pleases. It was never meant to be that way.”

“And what of Ephira? She was created to harness and help the balance. Given that power by the creator of Rhelia itself. Who are we to say she’s not a key in helping to accomplish this goal you keep telling me, which is to rebalance the world. What if you’re only making it worse?” He hoped he was only sounded curious and not angry. He had to be careful in speaking about Volencia, his emotions were dangerous.

“What if Ephira was never meant to be? We believe her creation is where the world went wrong. Which is why Volencia must be contained and taken care of.” Claven smiled, but Damion could tell he was weighing every word. His demeanor now was so different from earlier, Damion found it worrisome. “I could give you so much more, there’s no reason you need to try to protect her any longer. I will give you your hearts desire in exchange. You’re currently the only thing stopping us from having what we need at this point.” The seriousness that enveloped the conversation was startling.

“Right now, we have a good thing going. I’m not interested in just handing her over.” Damion said casually, locking his hands behind his head.