Rise of the Archmage Alister

When they got close to the first city of Losca, Alister’s mother pulled out a map of the duchy. It was colored and detailed with cities, major towns, and even some major mines and other icons. She laid it out on her lap and pointed to its location on the map at the southern end of the duchy and kingdom, “Losca here is a major transport city, but it’s far from the capital. It’s one of the first places people come to when they travel here from our neighboring kingdom of Dusau. That’s why we’re working on getting the train line down to it. We came from over here, Keene.”

“May I look this over, Mother?” Alister asked, reaching out.

Alliana nodded, “Of course dear. Go ahead but do be careful. Maps of this quality are somewhat expensive.”

“This territory is rather large,” he muttered in response, eyeing the different regions of the map, “The whole kingdom is though, I suppose?”

Blas nodded this time, “It is, yes. It’s one of the largest in the world, but since there are only five ducal families including the archducal family, we each preside over a large area. Most other nations are conglomerates of smaller nation states, so we’re the odd ones out in that sense.”

Alister gave the idea some thought, eyes digging into the map like it owed him money, “Why don’t we have one of these at the house?”

“Like I said, it is somewhat expensive, and I had hoped to return to Rythwith eventually. I hardly want to live in that small town forever,” Alliana said, giving Blas a sad smile, “If I furnished the house with such things, it would make it feel permanent.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Blas responded, “I just… needed time away.”

“I know. It’s okay. Five years is a long time, though.”

“I know… We’ll be able to stop at Rythwith before we move on to the capital. We can see how Felthinus has been taking care of the manor.”

Alliana groaned, “Yes… I’m dreading it.”

“Lord Felthinus the third, my elder brother, is…,” Blas said, gesticulating as he explained to primarily Wisteria, “An unpleasant person to be around these days. When my father gave me the title of heir and then my parents died, Felthinus was inconsolable. He felt very betrayed. And so he’s rather jaded. I think some of that results in him compensating for his status. He can sometimes take it out on commoners.”

“Why does he get away with it?” Alister responded, glaring.

“Alister it’s fine. It’s the way of things,” Wisteria said, placating.

“It’s not fine. I want to know why he gets away with it if you know about it, Father. You’re the head of the family so why don’t you do something about it?”

“Ah… Alister it’s not that easy,” Blas mused.

“No, it’s not, but you know what’s harder? Killing someone because you’re so poor you can’t feed yourself or your loved ones, being so desperate you scavenge the corpse. What’s harder is making other people's lives harder.”

“Alister…”

“No. You need to really think about this. I don’t know how bad my uncle is but I won’t put up with it. The duchy’s capital is an important place, right? And I don’t want them sullying it. I don’t care who they are in the family or what their beef is. So why does he get away with it?”

“Alister!” this time it was Alliana, and she whacked his knee, “Stop. You’re acting inappropriately. Don’t talk back to your father like that.”

“No! This is important! If nobles are so favored by the gods, we should act like it! Mother, do you want to know about my first kill!?” Alister was shouting at this point, “A guard. A young man who caught me stealing food so I could feed myself and two other ill orphans. He chased me further than the other guards, and managed to corner me. I was old enough to jail at that point, but I couldn't let them starve!"

Allania tried to continue chastising Allister, bit couldn't bring herself too. This story, his tone, the way he claimed the kill as his own instead of that of a former self… this didn't feel like a tantrum, but instead like a passion she'd never heard from one his age. She felt like she had been in error about how she had been treating him.

"I… I pulled out my knife. I was desperate. They couldn't walk due to illness and I'd given all my money from working for medicine. It was the only thing I could do. But he was hot headed, arrogant. Saw my knife shaking with fear and thought I'd drop it and flee if he drew his spear. Just like you, he didn't understand what the truly poor go through, what we'll do! What we MUST do when rich motherfuckers who refuse to care about those with a lighter coin pouch are stuck between a rock and a hard place! When all they do is fucking TALK!"

Allania and Blas felt a shudder go through them at the look in his eyes, the kind of furious resentment that they'd seen in the eyes of family who saw their loved one’s murderer walk away free. "Alister… if this is about Wisteria-"

They were cut off by a harsh bark of laughter, "That you think I only feel this way because it affects someone I know is so damned telling. Have you felt hot blood pouring over your hands? Felt it paint your face? Heard the gasps of a young man calling for his child?!"

Blas winced, flashes of countless similar scenes from his own life coating his conscience, "I… I understand, son, I've-"

"Oh do you? Have you? Was it at the fresh young age of sixteen? Not long after you freed yourself from the church? Were you so desperate that you stole everything off the body you could carry and fled for your life? It was only supposed to wound him, disable him until healed, but I hit the interior mesenteric artery instead. A young man dead, and if his pouch was any indication, he didn't have a choice! Just like so many dead men strewn on battlefields everywhere! All because nobles and gods are too fucking COWARDLY to open their damned purse instead of their mouth!" Even Blas was struck silent, Wisteria saying nothing of the pain in her hand, which Alister had grabbed at some point in his story, "Do you know who the poor hate the most? You! All of you who pretend you want to help but come up with excuse after excuse that you can't, you would if you could but the long suffering lot you've been dealt means you! Just! Can't! Meanwhile countless sixteen year olds are butchering countless other kids who fancy themselves guards or soldiers because they have no choice! Neither of them!"

Allister was panting at this point, his voice hoarse and rough, "Don't try and reassure me. Just do something about your piece of shit brother."

Before anyone could say anything, he released Wisteria's hand and opened the door of the carriage. With childlike mobility he clambered onto the door, then the wooden roof. From outside they could hear a startled cry from the carriage driver as Allister plopped into the seat beside him. "Please hand me the reigns. I'm quite capable of driving myself." The quality of the driving quickly changed from the smoothly professional pace to a more uncomfortable, swifter one, yet still stable aside from the occasional pothole.