Rise of the Archmage Alister

Alister’s lesson on the Beast King was unfortunately short and disjointed, as everyone’s focus was instead on the political drama and possible conflict looming over the kingdom. It was understandable, but the idea of a “Beast King Kendrick” and “Bloodsoaked Queen Saana” from the civil-war-torn nation of Kitharn to the east across the mountains was fascinating.

Thankfully, Alister’s interest in the Beast King would not have to wait long before it was satisfied. When they went to inform the king and queen about their concerns regarding noble or civilian dissatisfaction, they were interrupted barely after they got onto castle grounds by the sound of a man shouting in the distance.

“FIGHT ME DRAKON!”

The shout was followed by a small, annoyed growl, and then a mighty THWACK, as the man was sent flying. The large individual landed nearby, tumbling into the ground and cracking the brick of the courtyard. He had rose-quartz gem hair that was short and wild, and bright yellow eyes that were undaunted by being thrown, a wide grin on his face.

“You’re ridiculous, whelp,” another voice said, walking forward. The owner revealed itself to be a cat-sized black dragon with shimmering opal eyes. He looked annoyed.

“I’ll get you to fight me!” the man shouted, rushing forward with a gigantic woodcutter's ax.

The dragon side-stepped gracefully, looking at the guests now instead of the crazy man, “Hello Blas. Alliana. Reese… Children. To what do I owe this visit? Don’t mind the idiot.”

“Isn’t… that… King Kendrick?” Blas said awkwardly.

“Yes. He is… enthusiastic. He’s been doing this every time he visits for the last few years. As soon as he caught wind of my existence,” the tiny dragon sighed, sitting in front of the group of them.

“What is going on??” Alister asked, confused beyond belief. This tiny dragon was clearly incredibly powerful. It had an intense amount of mana and he could sense it had a transcendent core, and yet everyone was so casual and the beast king had ATTACKED him!

“Ah. Right. You’re new to the capital,” the dragon sighed, “I am Takrok’Vros’Rakei. I will tolerate you calling me Takrok if for no other reason than to avoid the butchering of my name. I am the Dragon Lord of the continent… and the Leader of the Royal Knights. Why am I in this form? Because it was one of the stipulations the king gave me for staying with my son Westley. Why did I listen? Because it was less annoying than arguing. Did I miss any irritating first questions?”

Alister couldn’t help but scrunch his nose, “I… suppose that explains…? Somewhat…”

“Yes yes, confusion,” the dragon grumbled, thwacking Kendrick away again without looking his direction as the man came rushing back over, “I get that a lot. You’re a noble brat so I’ll give you marginally more respect and attention than I give most. Yes most dragons don’t care much about their children, but I do, so I wasn’t about to leave my brat here where he’d learn nothing but squishy elf and human things. So. Blas. What did you want?”

“Ah,” Blas stood a little straighter, “Actually it’s for Reese. We’re here to talk to the king.”

“I see. Those two always worry too much. Go on then,” he mused, stretching like a cat, “Can you get Saana to pick up her idiot of a husband?”

“O-of course,” Blas muttered, hurrying along.

Alister stayed behind with Wisteria in the courtyard to watch the amusing fight.

Calling it a fight was generous. Every time King Kendrick approached, Takrok batted him away with ease like he wasn’t even trying. Every time he got up with a wide smile and charged back at Takrok like it was a fun game to play. Despite acting annoyed, Takrok wasn’t doing anything to actually stop Kendrick - and Alister was certain he could if he desired.

“What level are you, Sir?” he asked after watching silently for a long few minutes. Wisteria smacked his arm for asking, worried he was being rude, and he shrugged. If the dragon cared, he’d just not answer.

“Nearly 900. I’d be far higher if-” he started, then thwacked Kendrick again, “if not for the system making every ten levels harder than the last to level up.”

“Woah,” Wisteria was fascinated.

Alister nodded slowly, “I see… then you’re the highest level being I’ve met.”

“Not surprising, little whelp,” he tossed Kendrick a little further that time, “Most humans only get to around level 40 or 50, don’t they? And then adventurers might reach 100, 150 if they’re really impressive. Only those long-lived like dragons or particularly incredible get truly strong. As annoying as it is to think, this brat - Kendrick of Kitharn - is one of those people. Level 200-something? He loves to fight me like a lunatic every time he visits. As soon as he found out I exist. It’s so troublesome.”

Then why do you sound proud of him? Alister thought, lightly sighing, “Impressive.”

“I like to think so,” he gave Kendrick a whack that time, the sound thick in the air, no doubt leaving an injury that time, but that only meant he got up a little slower than before, “The lowest of the gods tend to be around 750, if they aren’t literal children, of course. Higher gods are a big question mark. Some could be as low as a thousand. Perhaps others are as high as two. I don’t know. But to know I am in their ranks is good enough for me. It means I can defend my territory more easily.”

Alister nodded, paling slightly. The system made it sound all the more daunting.

“Don’t worry about it,” Takrok said, misinterpreting his worried expression, “I’m an ally. After all, my son lives here. As long as he does, then so do I.”

“Ah… yes…”

“Thank you, Lord Takrok,” Wisteria said, bowing.

He smirked, giving her a small nod, “You’re very polite little one. Now then. Brat!” Takrok moved as a blur, dust flying, and he was suddenly on Kendrick’s chest pinning him to the ground. He huffed in his face, “Help your wife, idiot. Politics may not be your strong suit, but making a mess of our courtyard isn’t helping Queen Saana. Right??”

Kendrick stared, thoughts loading, “…Yes. You’re right, drakon. I should help Saana!”

Alister was surprised that this man was apparently a king. The world was a strange place.

Once everyone was inside and the situation had been explained to the king, he agreed to increase the security that was going to be on Archduchess Callibella. He trusted Reese considerably, and though his wild conspiracies were often a bit off base, there was always some truth to his concerns, and the king didn’t want to risk it.

King Augustus’s green eyes watched the tiny dragon with unease after he entered with the kids and King Kendrick. Takrok paid no one any mind, and climbed into the lap of the queen, Isabella, who was seated beside her husband. She was a delicate woman, mostly elven, with deep tanned skin not unlike the archduchess and light lavender eyes. Indeed, the queen was Callibella’s eldest daughter. She too was dressed in black, mourning her father’s passing. She pet the dragon absentmindedly.

“Dear,” she muttered, “I think we should have Lord Reese talk with our Recordkeepers and Spymasters as well.”

“Yes! Of course,” he eagerly replied, touching her shoulder, “Anything to keep her safer. It’ll be alright, my love.”

If he had been thinking more about it, the opportunity of getting close with the royal family would have been smart, but that hadn’t even crossed Alister’s mind until they left for the house. He supposed that was just another thing he could mark down as something childish about him. Oh well. Being a noble, thinking of politics, he just simply wasn’t geared for it.

The funeral was soon. Everyone was wearing black. It looked best on Wisteria, he thought, as her onyx hair and eyes made the simplicity of the black funeral dress pop. Meanwhile, he was just uncomfortable. With the coat and everything, it was too warm. The trip part of this was fun and all, but now that he was here it was just a ceremony for someone he basically didn’t know.

In this life, thankfully he hadn’t had many funerals, but as Raalin he had had more than his fair share and wasn’t very interested in having any more if he could help it.

Not to mention, anyone who had been to a funeral knew they were extremely boring 90% of the time. The other 10% was mostly thanks to the food.

Wisteria wasn’t close by. There wasn’t a seat for her since she wasn’t actually a noble. She didn’t mind, though, and was sitting off to the side with some servants, happily chatting with them. Alister kept getting scolded by his mother for poor posture as they sat in the front row of the cathedral. He was just so bored waiting for everyone to get here!

Since he had nothing to do, he was instead people-watching dutifully. And indeed there were many interesting people.

The “Beast King” Kendrick was seated beside his demure in appearance wife, the “Bloodsoaked Queen” Saana. She was arguably normal-looking, platinum hair, fair skin, deep crimson eyes… but that crown she wore… It was stained a rusty red from a coat of blood that was never washed clean. She took all the glances proudly, a picture of power and nobility. Her husband Kendrick was… strange.

He was thick with muscle and tall, his gem pink hair garnering attention on its own, but to add to that his funeral attire was unconventional at best. He had on a large black fur cloak, loose pants, and a black shirt without sleeves. The man looked more appropriate for a barbarian funeral than something like this. Similar to his wife, he didn’t care about the looks he was getting… but Alister had a feeling it wasn’t about pride with that one. He gave off the same vibe as a tamed beast, pleased to be around his wife with few thoughts if it didn’t have to do with her interests.

The royal family and the other dukes were interesting to look at as well.

King Augustus had on a regal black suit, black shirt beneath it, with his blonde hair tied back in a tight braid and green eyes that shone with sadness. Beside him sat his beautiful wife, her lavender hair likewise braided with pointed ears peeking through. She was already teary eyed.

The crown prince and crown princess were closest to their parents - and yes, crown prince AND princess. In Mare the eldest boy and eldest girl had equal rights to the throne. They had done it that way to be assured to have the most capable ruler, regardless of gender.

Sorona was 25, a beautiful half-elf with long lavender hair and bright green eyes. Her skin wasn’t as tan as her mother’s, but it still had an ashen quality to it that made her look like a painting. On her right was her daughter, Laila, a little six year old that was only a quarter elf, and to her right, her father. Sorona’s husband; Alister didn’t remember his name, but he was a noble-looking man of little note, brown hair and eyes, a stiff posture. Laila kept staring at Alister with wide green eyes, lilac locks framing her tiny face, curious about something. Her father kept muttering to her about it being impolite to stare.

Augustus the fourth, the crown prince, was on the other side, much younger than his sister at 15. His hair was a little darker of a lavender, and he wore it straight down, coming to his mid back. He looked bored and uninterested as he leaned forward against a wooden rail.

Many other royal family members were seated nearby, all the other princes and princesses. Even the illegitimate ones from the king’s mistresses or the wife’s were allowed to sit alongside the rest. In total, including the crown prince and princess, along with a couple of grandchildren, there were twenty kids in the royal family.

Like hell if Alister could remember all of them.

The other ducal families were also nearby. The Archduchess and her family were in the very front near the casket. The poor woman and her children looked exhausted.

Most of the ducal families were humans. Duke Merik Arfranz, 42, whose territory bordered the Severin Duchy, was seated with his young wife Duchess Julia Arfranz, 20, and their family. Their trademark features seemed to be red eyes, and most of them looked to have orange to brown hair. Duke Kryl Margrav, 53, who had a duchy to the north, was beside his wife Duchess Katherine Margrav, 41, and their family. Their trademark features were pink hair and eyes. Duke Lucius Xalo was the standout among the dukes. He was 78 but certainly didn’t look it - he looked in his prime. A half izo-beastkin, he was huge.

Izoi were fearsome creatures, a mixture between a saber tooth cat and a lightning wolf, distant relatives of wyverns that lived high in the mountains near glaciers. An izo-beastkin, however, was something he hadn’t heard of before. An odd thought. He looked to be at least seven feet tall with a wide build and shorter reddish hair curling down to his jaw.

Duke Xalo looked bored, his tired purple eyes scanning the crowd the same as Alister was doing. He had no wife - she had died a long while ago - but he had his small family with him. They had the struggles of a new noble family, looking uncomfortable to be in the capital, being judged by others.

As the organ music began, Alister focused his eyes forward to the priest leading the funeral.