A white horse with feathered wings, a pureblood pegasus, flies through the clouds with a grace that makes it seem as light as a feather. The sun's reflections dance across the horse's armor, made of steel alloyed with magic to be as light as leather and shining with a blue reminiscent of a clear sky. The animal's barding matches the rider's armor.
Renata holds the pegasus's reins in one hand, and a silver-edged spear in the other. The beautiful woman's skin is pale, her eyes are blue, her body is slender yet athletic from training, and her silver hair cascades in a long braid that descends from her helm and falls over her left shoulder. The sides of her bluish breastplate are made of iron coins joined tightly together with small steel links; the same goes for her greaves and helmet, the plates of the set displaying refined lines reminiscent of flowers and fish.
It is a noisy, ornamental, highly uncomfortable armor that clinks with every slight movement. But it is the armor duty compels her to wear, as a representative of the council, but above all, of the kingdom of the merchant princes.
Renata flies over the walls while sweeping her gaze over the current state of the kingdom of Stoicus. The reconstruction of the districts continues, especially the poorer areas which were the most affected, but overall there is an atmosphere of resumption and optimism toward daily life. Although the landscape doesn't look that different to her; she always found the rustic appearance of that place deplorable. The new walls, colossal and amorphous, did nothing to improve Renata's opinion, proud as she was of the opulence of her homeland.
The pegasus descends, earning gasps of surprise from children and adults who watch her appear from the clouds. Renata enters the castle grounds and lands in the courtyard. A couple of soldiers rush forward to receive her and ask what she wants. She lifts her chin and states bluntly:
"I have a message from the council. Notify your king... And my sister."
...
A fierce memory revives from the depths of Jimbo's mind, a memory he would have preferred to forget. He sees himself as a child, sitting in a large dining room with peeling walls, holding a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich in his hands. The mayonnaise was spoiled, but food was scarce, so he finished eating it. For three days he suffered from worms, so intensely that it was almost impossible to sleep.
The current torment is similar, only this time the worms are attacking his brain, as if wanting to burst his ethereal skull and force their way beyond space. Jimbo tries to swat blindly, to hold his head, to curse, but it is very difficult to move and think, and his words morph into ragged groans. The blue crystal blinks and trembles as if it were about to explode.
"Master!" Dowmy flutters to jump and stop Arrax, but Marnie grabs her from behind in a bear hug, preventing her. The imp struggles in the disciple's arms. "Let me go!"
"Stay still and don't get in the way or you'll pay the consequences!" Marnie warns, barely managing to restrain the imp.
Arrax takes another step closer, keeping his arm extended. Hilda watches with a deep frown.
"Do you know what you are doing, Arrax?"
The sorcerer ignores the question and goes straight to complaining.
"I found out about the conversations you had with my creation behind my back. How disrespectful."
"The king's affairs supersede yours."
"There is no one more loyal to His Majesty than I. But no one can blame me for feeling wronged by being bypassed, especially after suffering in a bed all these days," Arrax says, flicking his wrist as if his fingers were turning an invisible wheel.
Jimbo's paralysis immediately turns into pure agony, and his groans into a rising scream. Hilda uncrosses her arms and rests a hand on the hilt of her sword; now that she can hear Jim, she finds it impossible not to feel uncomfortable.
"Arrax, stop right now. The Dungeon Core has received the king's protection."
"Worry not. I know the limits of my creation better than anyone. His Majesty will understand—or is it not a father's divine right to discipline his child, and make him understand the risks of acting without permission?"
Jimbo's screams persist, and Arrax shows no sign of lessening the punishment. In her desperation, Dowmy bites Marnie's arm, forcing her to let go. The imp leaps with claws ready and fangs bared, but she fails to reach Arrax. A scarlet glow flares for an instant from within the sorcerer's cloak.
Dowmy crashes into a red barrier that blasts her backward, sending her spinning across the floor until she lands on her back, coughing and clutching her chest, wisps of smoke rising from her body. Arrax glances at the imp from the corner of his eye, shooting her a look of indignation and disgust.
"Who do you think you are, you filthy animal? Who let you out of your cage? Who was the idiot that healed your wounds without my consent?" Each new question sounded angrier than the last.
Arrax lowers his arm and focuses on the imp, which causes Jimbo's paralysis and pain to moderate significantly, although they still linger.
Jimbo watches as Arrax points a finger at Dowmy.
"I am the only master present here, creature. It would take 1,000 years for a worm like you to earn the opportunity to serve me. Die!"
The ether that Jimbo had been jealously guarding and collecting flares up as if it hadn't cost him blood and sweat to obtain it. Without a second thought, he acts.