Notes:

Hi everyone.

With this, the substory we might call "The Erudite" is concluded.

The feedback I have had from you has been positive, so as I said, if circumstances and time allow me I could create a new work in which all these secondary stories come together.

Since there are so many things to talk about, I will also leave it up to you to choose which topics you would like to see explored in depth.

If you have an idea, let me know in the comments, and I'll see if we can craft a story around it.

See you soon!^_^

Cj Spencer



Borg was furious as he observed yet another weekly decline in revenue in the warehouse's loading area while inspecting the latest expedition.

"What's the meaning of this?" he yelled when he saw that the newly arrived wagon was half-empty. "With this stuff I won't even cover the transportation costs!"

"I'm sorry, sir. That tarkana still lurks along the paths to the west. We have to go along the most popular roads. And the controls, the duties, the bribes..."

The pig then exploded.

"The tarkana, the tarkana! Every time you bring out this tarkana! Maybe if I had real guards instead of salary-stealing debauchees, this problem would have been solved already!"

Rust tried to pretend that his boss wasn't mad at him too by standing two steps behind, and for this reason he was the first to notice the arrival of an unexpected and not particularly welcome guest.

"What are you doing here? The boss isn't in the best of moods."

Daemon didn't respond and continued walking, and then the kobold sent two of his men to meet him. Although visibly battered and weighed down by a large bag, Daemon knocked them out with just a few blows.

"Now I'm tired of you, brat! Come here and I'll tear you to pieces!"

Rust threw himself at him brandishing his clawed glove, thus drawing everyone's attention to the fight. But his opponent did not falter, and having dodged his attacks, he responded with a single powerful slash to the back of the neck that sent him straight into the world of dreams.

"If you wanted a meeting, just say it. I always have time for my favorite long-term investment."

"I don't work for you anymore, have you forgotten?"

"Maybe. So? What can I do for you?"

"I've spent the last two days running around the whole forest chased by a group of angry Macaires, eager to kill an old professor. I don't know what they wanted or why they were angry with him, but I know for sure who sent them. You."

"What makes you think so?" asked Borg, shrugging

"Because you're the only one with the knowledge to get in touch with them, and we both know it. More than once you used them to do dirty work."

"Interesting. There is only one problem. What reason could I have had? Do I perhaps seem like the type who would be so damned for any little human professor to you?"

"Of course not. It's obvious that you were also hired by someone. And now you will tell me who is."

The glare that Borg wore for an instant, immediately hiding it behind his pedantic smile, revealed without a doubt that Daemon was right: "Even if you're right, you should know me. I never fail on a deal, regardless of who the customer is."

The two stared straight into each other's eyes, while the tension was at its highest around them.

"Are we negotiating?" Daemon hissed

"What do you think?"

Other interminable moments passed, until the young man threw the contents of his bag onto the ground, before which even Borg remained speechless.

"I think this is enough."

In front of them there was both the resolution of many problems that were now making Borg lose sleep, and the kind of hunting trophy that nobles of Erthea would have paid gold to have.

"Son of a... But how did you do that?"

"So then? Shall we make this agreement?"



Having been informed of Professor Hinkel's return, Mayor Luparl rushed to his room at the inn, unexpectedly finding two militiamen guarding the door.

"What does it mean?" she questioned. "Why are you here?"

"Commander Beek's order."

Impressed, but not too much, the mayor relied on his authority and was allowed to enter.

"Professor." he said, finding the scholar intent on making himself presentable again with a change of clothes. "Thanks be to the Triad, fortunately you are well."

"And I owe it all to my guide, Mr. Mayor. If it hadn't been for him, my scalp would be showing off on the spear of some of those monsters by now."

"Macaires have been a problem in this region for years, but they have never attacked someone like this, with the clear intent to kill."

"I wish it were just the Macaires. I almost risked becoming a tarkana's dinner. But that hunter and his servant were nothing short of sensational. But seeing as that satyr wasn't my servant, as soon as he saw me return with him, that militia commander of yours thought it was a good idea to lock me up in here, watched by his gorillas."

"Please forgive him; Commander Beek is sometimes overzealous in his work. However, I had actually heard rumors of strange movements among the Macaires, but before I could warn you, you had already left. And then..."

The mayor lowered his head, almost mortified.

"And then what? Do you know something I should know too?"

"No, it's just that... well, I don't like to accuse unjustly, but..."

"Given that I was about to die, I think I've earned the right to know."

"The thing is, I've received some pretty strange reports from the customs officers on the bridge. Rumors of suspicious individuals who in recent days have crossed the border with safe conduct issued by the State of Elordia.»

Hearing that name the professor frowned.

"Benwood. I should have known. He has always opposed the President, even before his election. He must have thought of using my death to put him into trouble."

"Maybe it's a good thing you have those guards outside the door. Who knows what else those enemy agents might try now that their plan has failed. In any case, I will make sure that you can return to the Union safely."

A knock on the door put them both on alert, but the appearance of Daemon, although visibly worn out by the efforts of the last few days, reassured them.

"Daemon." exclaimed the mayor. "I'm sure you've been better, but despite everything I'm happy to see you alive again."

"I agree with my friend the mayor. You really look like a ghost."

The young man looked around for a moment, without saying a word.

"Professor, the owner of the inn had dinner prepared for you." he said with a stern look and calm voice. "The guards will escort you downstairs."

"But, really, I wouldn't even be that hungry."

"Please, do as I said. The mayor and I need to talk privately."

Faced with those eyes and that tone of voice, the professor felt like a disrespectful schoolboy again, and as such he silently obeyed and left the room.

"Given the circumstances, I am happy to have chosen you for this position. And I heard you also eliminated that tarkana. Truly remarkable."

"You can also stop the farce, Mr. Mayor. Borg has already spilled the beans."

A gasp could be seen on the mayor's face, but his calm and controlled expression did not seem to be affected.

"May I know what you're talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that through Borg you used the Macaires to kill the professor, telling them that he was a famous Union slaver. Just the kind of person the Macaires are more than happy to kill."

"You forget that it was I who asked you to protect the professor. Why would I have given him an escort if I had tried to kill him?"

"So that no one could accuse you of not having taken all the necessary precautions to protect his safety. As you said, my reputation precedes me in this province. Obviously, you expected me to die too, so as not to have any inconvenient witnesses. And I actually came close a couple of times, which doesn't put me in a good mood, as you can easily imagine."

At that moment the door opened again and the two guards from earlier reappeared in the room, with Beek leading them.

"You will have a lot of things to explain Mr. Mayor, and for your sake I hope you have a good answer for the brat's accusations."

"I wouldn't even call them accusations; they're just a bunch of lies. To begin with, why would I do such a thing? I had personally taken on the task of guaranteeing the professor's safety, so I would have been the first to pay the price for his death."

"The Macaires are known and feared even in the Union. If it turned out that the murder was their work, you would have had no problem finding a way to exonerate yourself."

Then came the moment of the worst accusation.

"As for why, it's easy to say. All I had to do was ask around. Today you openly criticize the reunionist doctrine in public, but in truth you yourself as a young man were part of a secret society that pursued this aim. The Hunters of the West. Your motto was Once was, and will be again."

"It still is." the mayor replied, this time with poorly concealed resentment. "And even if I were a reunionist? Our war was against the Empire, not the Union. Indeed, everyone knows that the Union pays considerable funds to reunionist groups to cause unrest in the border territories. What reason would I have had to make an attempt on the life of an illustrious citizen of a nation that was our friend?"

"For the same reason you have always fought. The reunification of Eirinn and its liberation from the Empire. The most fanatical Reunionists believe they can restore Eirinn to an independent nation, but you are not so naive. You know very well that at the moment the Empire cannot be defeated, no matter how weakened and decadent it may be. On the other hand, however, a reunited Eirinn becoming a member of the Union would certainly have more freedom than it could ever hope to have now."

"You wanted to exploit the tension caused by the death of a person very dear to the President to provoke a new war, right?" Beek chimed in

"Even though the cold war situation between the Empire and the Union is now over the enmity is still very strong along the border." Daemon continued. "And with the Empire having decommissioned or reassigned a good part of its legions, you were confident that a few fanatics would only need a pretext to provoke a new conflict. After all, everyone know that the Union has always aimed to claim this region."

Luparl affected confidence, but the tense muscles of his face and his forehead beaded with sweat betrayed his nervousness.

"You're just a poor idiot. Haven't you yet understood that the Union doesn't care about the East? All they want is to get their hands on the West and its mines. If your plan had succeeded for some reason, you would have only succeeded in dividing Eirinn even more."

Finally, the mayor decided to raise his eyes, staring at his two accusers in a calm and composed manner.

"All very fascinating, Mr. Haselworth. There's just one small problem. Even if I had done what you accuse me of, I see no evidence against me. All I see against me are the word of a pig and the ravings of a peasant. I won't confess anything."

It was true. Mayor Luparl was the most respected and liked person in Dundee, on good terms not only with the local authorities but also with the governor.

"Actually." Daemon said as if mortified, completely changing his expression in the process. "I was hoping you would. At this point, it would be your only hope."

"What?"

"As much as this plan had little chance of succeeding, it's quite obvious you're not the sole person involved. Others will have helped you, both here and in the Union. If you agreed to cooperate in revealing the names of the conspirators, with your reputation you could appeal to the governor for clemency. The Macaires, however, will not be as generous. I'm sure that as we speak Borg is already selling you to them to save his own skin. And considering that to save the professor I had to kill some of them, I don't think they will forgive you for tricking them like this."

Daemon's every word was like a nail in the coffin, and by the time the young man had finished speaking the mayor's mask had crumbled.

The professor had left a sharp letter opener on the table in the room.

Luparl grabbed it, pointing it threateningly towards the boy and the three soldiers, who immediately took up their weapons in turn.

"Don't be stupid, Mr. Mayor." Beek ordered him. "It's over."

"It's not over at all! Once was, and will be again!" and then he cut his own throat.



"I'm not saying I agree with what Mayor Luparl has done, but I don't feel like judging him. In his own way, he only wanted the best for his homeland."

"That sounds strange coming from you, professor. His machinations almost cost your life."

"I wonder if, knowing what was destined to happen soon, he would still have chosen to carry on with his plan. He wanted an Eirinn free from the Empire, and that is what you, my boy, finally got."

The professor smiled: "When we parted I said that I saw something great in you. But I never expected to see you get this far."

"Fate wanted it that way."

"By the way, what happened to the Macaires then? I hope you've made peace since then."

"They were involved in a delicate matter. Bad story. Maybe one day I'll tell you about it."

After having pleasantly emptied a second cup of infusion, the moment came for the professor to take his leave.

"It was nice to see you again. But I imagine you'll have more to do than waste time with an old fossil like me. It was nice to see you again, and I wish you well. I truly hope that your venture goes for better. This world needs the change you want to bring."

Daemon hesitated for a moment, stopping the professor when he was already about to leave the tent.

"Wait. There's actually something I'd like to ask you."

"About what?"

"Like you said, I'm trying to build something good out of all this. And I had the opportunity to experience and appreciate your endless knowledge. I imagine you are also very knowledgeable in historical and cultural studies."

"I don't consider myself a savant on the subject, but I get by."

"The fact is that both our homeland and this nation abound in ancient ruins, and to this day we still know very little about the ancient history of this world. I thought it might be a good idea to assemble a team of learned scholars who could lift the veil on the many mysteries that still surround Erthea's past, and I would be honored if you would decide to be part of it."

"Me!?" the professor replied, sitting down again. "Are you serious?"

"I believe that Erthea has neglected its heritage for too long. We can learn so much from our past. I cannot promise you large allocations like the ones you are used to at Mickarn University, but I would guarantee you absolute investigative freedom. It would be enough for you to take it upon yourself to dig, investigate and catalog every ruin or find you come across."

As if trying to grab the professor by the belly, Daemon poured him a new cup of herbal tea.

"I would also like to establish a high school in the Free State. Just because we are at war now it doesn't mean we should neglect the younger generation. Many willing young people could make their contribution to the well-being of our homeland, if only they could count on good training. If you feel up to it, you could take over the school and help me find other teachers."

Daemon knew the professor well enough to know how complicated situations that required adaptability attracted him.

"I assume you know that the Circle frowns upon those who conduct historical research without their authorization."

"We are an excommunicated nation. We couldn't care less about the judgment and provisions of the Conclave. And if I'm not mistaken, you never had too many problems challenging the authority of those zealots."

It was as if the two understood each other perfectly.

"Maybe the time has really come for me to hang up my boots and give these old bones some well-deserved rest. After all, I missed the academic environment a bit, and I find the idea of training so many promising young minds quite attractive."

"Thank you, professor."

"But on one condition."

"Go ahead."

"There are many things that are wrong in our world, and if with my work I can help you improve them I will be happy to help you. But you have to promise me that all this won't remain just a beautiful dream. You're going to have to work hard to create this new and better world you're telling me about."

"You have my word."

"In that case, it will be a pleasure to work with you."