Demon King's Gardener

Jurao was greeted by the Grand Preistis upon entering Maenscul’s temple.

“Your highness,” e bowed, “We’ve been expecting you for some time.”

“Apologies,” Jurao nodded, “I know I am overdue.”

“Maenscul has made no mention of it, so neither shall I,” the Priestis waved a hand, “Shall I show you to the King’s Shrine?”

“Yes, please,” Jurao nodded again.

The Grand Preistis took the lead, walking past the large golden statue in the central room where most supplicants offered prayers or thanks. It was only down a singular hallway in the back of the main chamber where they came to a set of doors also rendered in gold, where e bowed and left the King.

Inside was a smaller shrine similar to Nosu’s in the library - but the central throne here was made to resemble the one of clouds and rainbows Jurao had seen during his dream visit. The clouds were made from mountianhound wool, carefully felted and maintained - the rainbows made from colored glass hit by light reflected strategically by mirrors. The other difference in the room was that only one bench was set before the throne rather than several.

Maenscul manifested in their fifteen-foot form as Jurao reached that bench, lounging comfortably. They chuckled, “Ah, so you did remember.”

“Sorry,” the King said, taking a seat before them, “It has been…”

“I understand,” they waved a hand, “My daughter was very upset about your partner’s near brush with death, and Nosu told me of fos advice to you.”

Jurao nodded, “Thank you for understanding.”

“This entire formality was designed for me to ensure Ascension wasn’t being abused to wage inter-realm warfare,” Maenscul shrugged, “So long as nothing alarming of that nature is occurring, I’m not terribly bothered by a little wait. Honestly, I hardly remember what anyone tells me.”

Jurao nodded again, “I’m not sure what I should say.”

“Anything you want,” Maenscul replied, “Different Kings update me in different ways,” they laughed, “Some even use these little sessions to vent their frustrations. So, it’s up to you, really.”

“Alright,” the King nodded and considered, “You called this an update.”

“I did,” Maenscul replied.

“Then, my Reunification Campaign seems a good place to start,” Jurao suggested.

Maenscul waved him to go on with a nod and a smile.

“Six cities petitioned to cede,” Jurao said.

“Six?” the deity snorted, “That’s the highest number in over… fifty-thousand years.”

“I understand I am… polarizing as a King,” Jurao replied.

Maenscul snorted again, “Apparently - alright, which cities opposed you?”

“Messaonars, Gaevoyga, Naovojo, Mesmavas, Lajaonar, and Naengaquena,” Jurao replied.

“That is an interesting mix,” Maenscul said, “Messaonars, Mesmavas, and Gaevoyga are conservative cities - but Naovojo hasn’t attempted to cede before, and Lajaonar and Naengaquena are progressive.”

For someone who claims not to pay attention, Jurao thought, They do seem well informed.

“And when Messaonars attempts ceding, usually Engapoylao, Mesescima, or both do as well,” Maenscul hummed, “But then, you are a Mafokuraes and a Maesculiken…”

“My advisors also believed my lineage is what prevented either city from declaring intent to cede,” Jurao agreed, “Prince Ergirri thought Lajaonar’s attempt had more to do with his history with the city.”

“Ah, the Kloy and Vaene falling out,” the deity nodded, “They can be a petty shit, and their wife is ambitious enough…”

“The Petty King of Naovojo’s brother is a prophet,” Jurao continued, again noticing that the deity seemed far more aware than their claims suggested, “He said that Mahen sent him a vision that the battle would occur, but he didn’t know more than that it should happen.”

“Intriguing,” Maenscul said, “I’d ask Mahen, but it’s a toss-up whether or not ce even remembers sending a vision. Ce probably did - but ce hasn’t quite grasped linear time as firmly as the rest of us.”

Jurao remembered the sort of frayed ethereal air that had been about Gakke the prophet, and that seemed likely for him as well. Nodding, he went on, “The conservative cities did not like the break from four generations of one royal family to a common-born King, and Naengaquena was not in favor of a former General.”

“That sounds right,” Maenscul nodded, “Did any of them give you trouble?”

“None that stand out,” Jurao replied, “Naovojo and Naengaquena were the least prepared for a proper siege and so easiest to break through - Gaevoyga was the most prepared, but it only took two days.”

Maenscul considered that for a moment before asking, “And how long did the others take?”

“One day,” Jurao replied, “A few hours for both Naovojo and Naengaquena, but most of the day for the rest.”

“... you beat each city - save one - within one day?” the deity asked, smile growing into a grin.

“I understand that is unusual,” the King replied.

Maenscul laughed, “I don’t think anyone else has done that before - have you noticed any specific manifestations of Domain?”

“Perhaps. I feel… more aware of my surroundings than before,” Jurao considered, “Like my warrior intuition is stronger than before.”

The deity hummed, “That’s just the basics of it - but I wouldn’t worry. Lavven’s specific abilities didn’t start rearing their head until a few centuries into his unification campaign. As the first King to choose me as a weapon since him, and in a time of peace for the realm, it may take you longer yet. Had you been at the castle when your partner arrived, you likely would have sensed his entry.”

“What were Lavven’s abilities,” Jurao asked, “We’ve long lost the records if we ever had them.”

“He was able to enhance his magic by fueling it with vitality,” Maenscul replied, “He even figured out how to convert it to magnetics or celestial energy - though the latter only once, or it would have driven him to an early grave.”

Energy flowed through all the realms, but changed as it shifted through each realm - celestial energy in the Supernal Triad turned to magicka in the Arcane Triad, magnetism in the Inspired Triad, and vitality in the Strength Triad before turning back to celestial. All realms had at least a little of each type of energy - but the Strength Triad had the least magicka of any Triad, and the Arcane Triad the least vitality.

As such, demon magic users were very rare - and often less powerful than those in the Arcane or Inspired Triad.

“In any case,” Maenscul sighed, “Iescula will be very upset if I don’t ask after your partner - what was his name again?”

“Braelin,” Jurao smiled, “He’s in town - his brother arrived recently and has a half-demon child past their first decade. He got his zasus a dagger, and he and Malson - his brother - are getting a sheath for it today.”

“Oh, there are more?” Maenscul smiled - and there was something softer about it than before, “Humans, I mean.”

Jurao nodded, “After I appointed Braelin as Royal Gardener, I learned he’d been separated from his family and had my agents start listening for them. As a thank you for his ten years of silent service to the gardens. Later, he told me his family was the former royal family of Jost that was usurped fifteen years ago - we then started actively seeking them out.”

“Well, this became more interesting,” Maenscul snorted, waving him on.

“We first located his younger siblings, elf-human twins named Ayelma and Meir’ril, and his uncle, Owren, in Vede with other Jostian refugees,” Jurao complied, “Since Braelin’s been staying in my quarters, they’ve taken up residence in the cottage that was originally built for him.”

“How long has it been since he arrived?” Maenscul asked.

Jurao had to think about it before answering, “Almost three months.”

“A fairly quick turnaround,” the deity hummed, “But please, do go on.”

It very much felt like Maenscul was more interested in hearing about Braelin and his family than political matters - perhaps he was wrong, but they seemed more attentive as he recounted some of Ayelma’s riding stories and Meir’ril’s studies before going over Malson and Beneford’s arrival.

“Malson seems like quite the character,” Maenscul chuckled, a bit of a hungry look about them before they snorted, “Well, I’m satisfied with this meeting - unless you’ve anything else you wish to tell me, feel free to go to your partner.”

“There was one matter,” Jurao sighed, “Of the Iesculan priest, Milve.”

“The… High Priest?” Maenscul questioned.

“Former,” the King replied, “Which is the matter - it seems he was stripped of rank for officially making Braelin one of the faithful.”

Maenscul frowned, “That is… odd. I’ll let my daughter know - it’s her priesthood, so I’ll let her handle it as she sees fit.”

“Thank you,” Jurao said, getting to his feet, “Forvi mentioned Ergirri met with you once a month.”

“Yes,” the deity waved a hand, “At least that often, though you may stop more frequently if you wish. I’d rather you not visit more than once a week if there’s no pressing emergency,” they snorted, “Though I feel you would be more likely to approach Nosu for guidance.”

“Is that… rude,” the King asked, considering how to ask carefully.

“Oh, no,” Maenscul snorted again, “Fos is your patron and the Deity of Wisdom, and fos temple is easier for you to access - we may give each other a little shit now and then, but it’s all good-natured, I assure you.”

“Alright then,” Jurao bowed slightly, “Until next time.”

“Until then, Jurao,” Maenscul chuckled, fading out of existence.

“Your highness,” the Grand Preistis called out as he reentered the main chamber, “Your… partner is here, in a private chamber. Shall I show you to him?”

“Ah,” Jurao nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

The preistis nodded before, as promised, leading the way to a small private chamber the guards assigned to Malson and Braelin stood watch outside of. They nodded to the King before moving away from the door.

Forvi was the first to ask, “How did it go?”

“Well,” Jurao replied, sitting beside his partner on a bench immediately.

Petal was resting in the gardener’s lap and patted Jurao’s face with its tendrils before slipping down to the floor.

Braelin sighed and leaned into the King, “Everyone was staring.”

“And I couldn’t draw enough attention away!” Malson huffed, examining the large mural mosaic pressed into the wall.

“Well,” Forvi chuckled dryly, “You’re not the one courting the King.”

“Were you able to get the sheath, at least,” Jurao asked, rubbing his partner’s back comfortingly.

Malson held up a cloth-wrapped bundle, “Found one in Henes’s favorite color! Purple!”

“That’s good,” the King said, “Forvi.”

“Hm?” the prince said, then nodded, “Ah - yes, I was able to complete my list. I sent my shopping to the coach directly.”

“Do you want to return now,” Jurao asked.

Braelin sighed, “I wanted to explore a bit more, but…”

“I could carry you,” the King offered.

His partner laughed, “I know you could, but I think that might just draw even more attention.”

“Ah,” Jurao sighed, seeing the wisdom in that.

“Unfortunately, the staring’s not going to get better until you’ve been seen around more often,” Forvi snorted, “So at least if you think you can handle it, a midday meal at a beastkin restaurant? I know one that only uses beastkin realm meat and produce for authenticity, which would be safe for you, Braelin.”

“That sounds fine,” Braelin said, “Malson?”

His brother was staring at them with a mild look of disbelief before he shook his head and replied, “Yeah, that’s fine! We can explore more of the city itself on another day!”

“We’ll do that, then,” Jurao nodded, getting to his feet.