Those Who Ignore History

Interlude- Marrillyn 1


Prince Marryllyn lounged across his opulent chair, one leg hooked over the armrest as he tossed a gilded coin between his fingers. His other hand massaged his temple as a dramatic sigh left his lips. "Alright, which one of you is responsible for my headache today? Because I swear, this one is worse than the time the Guild of Alchemical Fools nearly blew up the western district."

The assembled Guildmasters and advisors exchanged glances. A few rolled their eyes, accustomed to their prince's theatrics.

"It's not one of us, Your Highness," drawled Orthen, his Chief Magister. "It's a boy. A young walker, Alexander Duarte."

The coin stilled between Marryllyn's fingers. "Oh? Do tell."

"He's awakened Star Mana."

Silence fell, heavy and oppressive. The coin slipped from Marryllyn's fingers and clinked against the polished table. He tilted his head, grinning, though his eyes burned with something far sharper than amusement. "You don't say."

"I did say," Orthen deadpanned. "And if you ask whether I know how, why, or to what extent he has access to it, the answer remains the same—I do not."

Across the chamber, Lady Thalene, Guildmaster of the Merchant Consortium and a master of political intrigue, leaned forward, her fingers drumming against the wood. "Star Mana is rare, yes, but it's not untouchable. We have scholars who have spent lifetimes trying to harness it efficiently. And now you're telling me a sixteen-year-old has not only tapped into it but also possesses an Arte that allows him to create skillcubes?"

"That would be correct, although he is seventeen." Orthen confirmed.

Marryllyn laughed. It was a bright, careless sound, the kind that sent a chill down the spines of those who knew him well. "A self-replicating energy source combined with the ability to turn it into learned skill and power. Tell me, my dear Guildmasters, is there a single kingdom that will not see this as an opportunity to seize or a danger to suppress?"

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A beat of silence.

Then, Master Kilver of the Black Anvil Guild, a giant of a man with arms like tree trunks, grunted. "Not a chance. Wars have been fought over lesser things."

"Exactly," Orthen murmured. "If word spreads, the Intercontinental Alliance will fracture. Every major power will want a piece of him. Some will try to control him, others will attempt to eliminate him before he upsets the balance."

"The balance we so painstakingly maintain," Thalene muttered.

Marryllyn spun lazily in his chair before stopping abruptly. "So what do we do? Declare him a national treasure and lock him away in a tower? Offer him a seat at our table and hope he doesn't stab us in the back later? Or do we simply let the wolves come and see who bites first?"

Sir Veldrin, Captain of the Midnight Guard, folded his arms. "We should at least prepare contingencies. If we do nothing, we risk chaos. If we act rashly, we risk drawing the world's eye upon us. Either way, it's a gamble."

Thalene tapped a finger against her lips before speaking. "We could follow one of our original plans—grant him an Earldom. But instead of lands within the Free Cities as we usually do for Walkers, we place his domain near the Queendom of Bast's borders."

Marryllyn's eyes flickered with interest. "Ah, now that's devious. Make him our problem and Bast's problem at the same time."

Kilver nodded. "It places him where his power can be monitored while also deterring Bast from making aggressive moves. If they decide to meddle, they risk antagonizing him instead of us. And if he does become too troublesome… well, he'll be isolated from our heartlands."

Orthen exhaled sharply. "It's a dangerous gambit. But it might be our best option."

Marryllyn smirked. "I do so love making dangerous bets. Let's prepare the offer. If he accepts, we secure his loyalty while making him a strategic buffer. If he refuses, well… we'll cross that bridge when we burn it."

Thalene chuckled. "Then let us weave this web carefully."

Orthen sighed but nodded. "I'll begin preparing our scholars to observe him."

Veldrin bowed his head. "I'll ensure the Guard is ready for any... unexpected developments."

Marryllyn clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Now, if any of you will excuse me, I need to drink until my headache stops existing."

Laughter and exasperated sighs followed as the meeting adjourned, but the weight of what lay ahead remained heavy in the air. The storm was coming. And Prince Marryllyn intended to make sure he was the one standing when it passed.

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