Salvation & Realization

Chapter three -Salvation & Realization-

The tall Headmaid Yvonne strode forward with a commanding presence, capturing the attention of the newly restored group. Her eyes shimmered with resolute determination as she addressed them, saying, "Welcome, you are now servants of Lord Olorun and Lord Cedric. Alongside our esteemed Lady Rosalind Fairchild, I will be your primary authority. You may call me Headmaid Yvonne."

She moved with an astonishing grace that surpassed the most well-trained servants. "I urge you not to take this opportunity lightly nor squander it. In this world, there are countless slaves who wish they had even a fraction of the privileges you are being granted today. You are not the first group of slaves to receive such treatment, and you certainly won't be the last. Look around you – many of the guards protecting this place were once in your shoes, former slaves. However, after their dedicated years of service, they chose to stay here as free men and women.

Yvonne's voice held both stern authority and a touch of empathy as she continued, "It's essential to understand that this opportunity can be transformative. Your new life begins now, and it's up to you to decide what path you'll take. You can embrace this chance for growth and empowerment, just as those guards did, or you can let it slip through your fingers."

Princess Alexandra stepped forward, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Exactly what is going on here? I've heard that Lord Cedric buys many slaves every two years. Still, because he consistently pays his taxes on time and guards the northern border, the royal family pays it no mind. But this is beyond what even I expected."

Lord Cedric took a step forward, his welcoming smile unwavering. "Yes, dear Princess, I'll happily explain. For the past six generations, we've been working directly with Lord Olorun to help slaves not only escape the bonds of slavery but also develop the skills and savings needed to reintegrate into society.

It all began two hundred years ago when the Dead Lands were first formed due to the kingdom's war with Lord Olorun. As you know, the Fairchild family was the only noble house that refused to retreat, even after witnessing the immense power of the sorcerer that Lord Olorun truly is," Lord Cedric chuckled.

Alexandra listened attentively, her curiosity growing. "Tell me more," she urged.

Lord Cedric continued, his voice filled with a sense of history and personal conviction. "During those tumultuous times, my ancestors and I found ourselves in an unlikely alliance with Lord Olorun. He saw unwavering resolve in my family and decided to put us to the test. If we could meet the demands he set for our house, not only would he spare the complete destruction of the kingdom, as he had originally planned, but he would also lend his support to the Fairchild family's recovery and growth. Of course, back then, such a pact had to remain secret from the crown, as it could have been seen as treasonous and jeopardized our bloodline."

He continued, "As the years turned into decades and generations came and went, what began as a pact for survival evolved into a deeply personal mission for the Fairchild house. Dealing with slaves for so long, one either becomes accepting and emotionless toward their plight or, like my family, begins to question the ethics of owning another sentient being. You can likely deduce which side we ended up on, even if outsiders might label us as hypocrites."

He gestured towards the people gathered around, some former slaves, others descendants of those who had been freed. "These individuals here have all gone through a transformative process. We've provided them with education, training, and support to reintegrate them into society as skilled and self-sufficient citizens, and some choose to remain working here as servants as well as guards.

Princess Alexandra's initial skepticism gave way to a profound sense of disbelief. She spoke with admiration in her voice, "This is truly remarkable, Lord Cedric. Your family took a leading role in the movement for the abolition of slavery in Melianor. Despite facing opposition from more powerful and influential nobles, even enduring a coalition of wealthier houses standing against you, you managed to forge alliances and garner the crown's support to achieve that monumental goal. And yet, it seems your family's commitment went even further."

"But you can't claim all the credit, can you? As you mentioned, all of this required one vital component - the sorcerer," Princess Elenor asserted as she took a step forward. Her demeanor remained calm and composed as she continued, "It's all starting to fall into place, and without hearing it directly from your mouth, I might never have pieced it together."

Everyone looks at Princess Elenor.

"I've been pondering this for some time now – how did the Fairchild house experience such a substantial expansion in influence and power? The earliest known records of your family depict them as agricultural barons with minimal sway. While your ancestors' defiance against the sorcerer was admirable, it's worth noting that you weren't the first to oppose him. There seems to be a gap in the logic regarding why the sorcerer not only spared your family but also ceased his aggression at your doorstep." Princess Elenor's words were measured, her curiosity undeniable.

"Then came the period of unprecedented growth for your family," Princess Elenor continued, her tone probing. "Forgive me if this sounds incredulous, but a noble family whose entire territorial income was solely agricultural managed to survive one of the most devastating events in the kingdom's history. Suddenly, it appeared as if they had unearthed a literal gold mine within their lands, reallocating their workforce to mining and agriculture. Yet, their agricultural output didn't diminish in the slightest; in fact, it grew."

Lord Olorun couldn't help but smile, sensing the need to prod the Princess further. "And? In times of great crisis and transformation, those who can't adapt are fated to falter. Just because the Fairchilds demonstrated the ability to adapt, assimilate, and expand into abandoned territories suggests nothing less than their remarkable capacity to thrive in times of turmoil."

"Please, Lord Olorun, let's not," Lord Cedric interjected, apprehensive about where this conversation was heading.

"But perhaps, my lord, if we were dealing with a purely natural occurrence," Princess Elenor countered, "there was nothing natural about the situation at all. The first thought that comes to mind is magic. With a powerful mage and alteration magic, turning rocks and stones into gold would be no problem. However, due to the illegalization of such magics and the numerous ways we have to detect such properties, the kingdom would have caught on instantly, and you would have been made an example of it. The next thought was conjuration magic. A powerful enough sorcerer could conjure a gold mine, but the cost of maintaining it..."

As the Princess delved deeper into her line of questioning, she continued, "Then came the period of unprecedented growth for your family. Forgive me if this sounds incredulous, but a noble family whose entire territorial income was solely agricultural managed to survive one of the most devastating events in the kingdom's history. Suddenly, it appeared as if they had unearthed a literal gold mine within their lands, reallocating their workforce to mining and agriculture. Yet, their agricultural output didn't diminish in the slightest; in fact, it grew."

Lord Olorun couldn't help but smile, sensing the need to prod the Princess further. "And? In times of great crisis and transformation, those who can't adapt are fated to falter. Just because the Fairchilds demonstrated the ability to adapt, assimilate, and expand into abandoned territories suggests nothing less than their remarkable capacity to thrive in times of turmoil."

"Please, Lord Olorun, let's not," Lord Cedric interjected, apprehensive about where this conversation was heading.

"But perhaps, my lord, if we were dealing with a purely natural occurrence," Princess Elenor countered, her voice unwavering, "there was nothing natural about the situation at all. It was the exact opposite, in fact. What if, instead of a magic user or even several, we had a wizard so profoundly powerful that he could reshape the very fabric of our world itself? He could breathe life back into dead lands or manipulate the very composition of the earth and mountains, turning them into gold or gemstone deposits." Princess Elenor continued to speak as she moved confidently toward the enigmatic sorcerer.

"Considering that it was the Fairchilds who brokered peace between the kingdom and the sorcerer," Princess Elenor continued, her gaze steady, "it begins to appear less like a heroic deed and more like a carefully calculated scheme." Her eyes held no accusation, just a genuine curiosity as she sought to unravel the truth.

As the tension in the room thickened, Princess Elenor's astute observations cast a long shadow over the gathered assembly. The very air seemed charged with a palpable mix of intrigue and uncertainty, a suspenseful pause in the grand tapestry of their shared history.

Lord Olorun, his features enigmatic as ever, met the Princess's probing gaze with a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying her speculations. The area, filled with slaves, descendants of former slaves, simply listened in silence, awaiting the unraveling of this intricate narrative.

Princess Alexandra, who had been listening keenly, now wore a thoughtful expression as she considered the implications of this revelation. The Fairchild family, once perceived as champions of liberty, stood under the scrutinizing lens of history, their noble actions now potentially tinged with the calculated motives of power and influence.

Amidst this silence, Lord Cedric, the head of the Fairchild house, shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between the princesses and the sorcerer. He had feared that this day might come when the truth would be laid bare, and their legacy would be reshaped.

But the shadows of the past cannot be easily dismissed, nor can a legacy be altered in a single moment. As the revelations hung in the air, the story of the Fairchilds was not over; it had merely taken a new and unexpected twist, leaving them all to grapple with the intricate layers of history, power, and transformation.

Olorun's laughter, once ominous and cold, now transformed into a playful and enigmatic chuckle, acknowledging the Princess's astute deductive skills. He commended her, saying, "Your observations are both correct and not entirely accurate, Princess Elenor."

With an air of mystery, he began to reveal the intricate layers of history. "You are correct in surmising that there was indeed a plan, but the Fairchilds were never meant to be active participants in it. Their role, initially, was merely a tool—a litmus test to determine whether the kingdom deserved a chance. As you mentioned, during the great battle two hundred years ago, there was no logical reason for me to spare them, yet I did."

Underneath the open sky, in front of the grand Fairchild Manor, all hung in a heavy silence, each word from Olorun adding another layer to the story, deepening the mystery of his intentions and the true extent of the Fairchild family's involvement.

Princess Elenor, ever the inquisitive soul, leaned in closer, eager to hear more of this captivating tale of power, destiny, and the enigmatic sorcerer who held the threads of fate in his hands.

Olorun, as if deep in thought, briefly tapped his chin, but this contemplative moment was short-lived. In the next instant, he raised his arms, and the wind itself seemed to obey his command. A powerful gust enveloped the group, forming a protective barrier that severed their connection to the outside world.

Then, Olorun summoned the arcane forces of time. Time itself began to unravel around them, rewinding by two hundred years in an instant. The world shifted, and the group found themselves transported to a different time and place.

As the wind dome that enclosed them dissipated, they were met with a harrowing sight. Before them, an immense battlefield sprawled as far as the eye could see. Titans of fire, water, rock, and air clashed with the forces of the Melianor kingdom in a cataclysmic struggle, unleashing chaos and destruction upon the world. It was a scene of apocalyptic proportions, with devastation and **** surrounding them.

Above this nightmarish battlefield floated another Olorun, his presence as enigmatic as the one they had left behind. This second Olorun appeared neither older nor younger than the sorcerer who had stood before them.

"Welcome to two hundred years ago, the final battle on Fairchild territory. While I had already wiped out other noble territories, killing tens of thousands of commoners, serfs, and slaves, all while those who were supposed to be the so-called 'nobles' fled for their lives... all except one," Olorun explained.

"By the way," he continued, "we are currently in a fractured space—a realm untouched by the rules of the outside world. Here, you are mere observers, unable to interfere or change the course of history. You can only bear witness to the events that unfolded here, watching as the world unraveled in a violent dance, and a pact was formed that brought an end to it all."

"You monster!" Gareth Fairchild bellowed with a fierce determination as he rushed toward the sorcerer. An earth elemental, summoned by the arcane might of the sorcerer, pulled itself up from the ground. With a mighty swing, the elemental extended its massive arm toward the armored lesser noble.

Even encumbered by his heavy plate armor, Baron Gareth leaped with remarkable agility, vaulting over the colossal hand. He landed gracefully on the rock formations that composed the creature's forearm, then immediately started running up it, gaining elevation with each step. In a daring maneuver, he jumped toward Olorun.

Baron Gareth swung his sword downward with all his might, the blade slicing through the air with a resounding ****. However, instead of Olorun, the sword struck a defensive ward conjured by the sorcerer, who managed to rise just in time to protect himself from the Baron's potentially lethal attack.

While the ward successfully blocked the potentially fatal blow, the sheer **** of the swing, combined with the inexorable pull of gravity, compelled the sorcerer to the ground. There, they came face to face in a raw contest of physical might, one that the sorcerer was undeniably losing.

Locked in a fierce struggle, Baron Gareth and Olorun grappled on the battlefield's bloodied soil. The sorcerer, despite his formidable magical powers, found himself overmatched in a direct physical confrontation with the relentless noble.

"How many lives have you ended? And for what? What are you waging this war for?" Baron Gareth roared, his voice filled with both anger and desperation. He continued to press forward with his blade, the steel edge locked against the unyielding protective ward. Remarkably, Olorun himself was steadily being pushed back despite the durability of his magic.

Sweat poured down both their brows as they strained against each other, neither giving an inch. Baron Gareth's iron will and strength, combined with his determination to protect his people, seemed insurmountable.

"Why should you care, Melianorian? Your kind is known for caring only about yourselves, and even that care doesn't extend beyond the boundaries of your little caste system!" Olorun retorted, his eyes now glowing with an eerie blue intensity. He deftly freed one hand from his protective ward, preparing to cast a second spell with an air of calculated resolve.

As Olorun prepared to unleash another spell, Baron Gareth, unyielding in his determination, met Olorun's intense gaze with unwavering conviction. "It's precisely because I care about my people, our land, and the very essence of Melianor that I fight," he declared, his voice resonating with fervor.

"Then prove it to me; demonstrate your conviction!" the sorcerer Olorun retorted, turning his hand to the side and unleashing a spell. An arrow of searing fire streaked across the battlefield, headed directly for a knight who was shielding a young boy mourning over the lifeless body of his recently slain father.

In the face of this dire situation, Baron Gareth knew he had to act swiftly. He broke down the clash he was having with the sorcerer and dashed towards the fire arrow, placing himself between the blazing arrow and the defenseless boy, raising his shield to intercept the fiery projectile.

The arrow of fire struck with a deafening explosion, sending waves of heat and a brilliant display of flames in all directions. The Baron stood firm, never moving an inch, his armor scorched, but his determination remained unshaken. He protected the boy and ensured he emerged from the inferno unscathed.

This act of valor showcased not only Baron Gareth's unwavering conviction but also his willingness to put himself in harm's way to protect the helpless.

"Once is happenstance," Olorun mumbled as he prepared a second spell, his gaze fixed on two knights fighting back to back. Dark clouds began to gather ominously in the sky. The sorcerer's incantation resonated with the elements, summoning a tempest of dark energy above the two valiant knights. Thunder rumbled, and lightning arced through the darkened sky, striking with devastating ****.

Baron Gareth, still panting from his previous exertion, knew he had to act quickly to shield those who fought alongside him. With unwavering resolve, he lifted his sword and leaped into the gap between the knights and the impending lightning bolt. With expert precision, Gareth positioned the blade of his sword just right, acting as a conductor to guide the bolt's path. As the lightning neared, a surge of conviction coursed through him, and with a swift motion, the Baron deftly swung the sword, redirecting the bolt harmlessly into the ground.

The knight's fearless act not only protected those he fought alongside but also demonstrated his unmatched skill and indomitable spirit in the face of the sorcerer's relentless onslaught. The battle raged on, each side locked in a struggle that would determine the fate of Melianor itself.

"Twice is a coincidence..." Olorun muttered as he continued to gather his magic, his eyes locked on the valiant knight who had just thwarted his devastating lightning strike. Dark clouds continued to swirl ominously above, hinting at the potential for further arcane devastation.

"Then prove it to me; demonstrate your conviction!" the sorcerer Olorun retorted, turning his hand to the side and unleashing a spell. An arrow of searing fire streaked across the battlefield, headed directly for a knight who was shielding a young boy mourning over the lifeless body of his recently slain father.

"Fine, you've convinced me," the sorcerer said, his tone less confrontational. He began to walk towards the Baron, a glimmer of something more complex in his eyes. But just as the two of them started to converse, the howling winds enclosed the group, leaving them in silent contemplation.

"And there, you all have it," Olorun spoke with a sense of finality, the winds swirling around them as a tangible testament to the past. "The battle that led to the alliance between the Fairchilds and myself," he concluded, his form stretching and shifting with the winds. The tempestuous winds dispersed again, returning them to the present-day Fairchild estate, where they had begun their journey through time and history.

"Wait, why did you stop it there? There was still more to be seen!" Princess Elenor exclaimed, her curiosity undiminished as she fixed her gaze on Olorun.

"Of course, there is; there always is," Olorun replied with a hint of mystery. "Two hundred years more, but we can't spend the whole day delving into history. We must also live in the present," he added, making his way over to Lord Cedric. The enigmatic sorcerer seemed to possess knowledge of both past and future, leaving the group with an intriguing sense of what might lie ahead.

"Well, Lord Cedric, I'll leave everything here in your capable hands," Olorun remarked, his gaze shifting toward the Fairchild estate. "We shall return to the tower. I still have much to attend to there." With a nod of farewell, Olorun prepared to take his leave, leaving the Fairchilds with a sense of mystery and unfinished business.