The Runic Alchemist

Goldilocks Estate, Lockwood Town, Northern Dawnstar.

—-

Have your daughter back, Baron. And I will have my freedom. Thank you, sir. Good day to you.

—-

Baron Marcus Goldilocks stared at the piece of paper his daughter had given him four years ago. It had always remained under his study table, a relic of a past that amused and vexed him in equal measure. In his free moments, he often liked to pull it out and reflect, smiling ruefully at his own folly. A boy—no older than ten—had made fools of seasoned schemers like himself and others in his villa.

Marcus, the youngest of three Goldilock siblings, had a knack for courts and intrigue from the tender age of eight. He was the political behemoth of the northern Dawnstar and he was bested by a mere boy - a boy they all called lackwit.

At first, Marcus had been surprised by the boy's audacity. He hadn't believed much of his daughter's wild tale about battling monsters day and night to survive. The attack being a trap made sense with the maid betraying them, Thomas was a good man. She being an esper and killing her as an unranked kid..? Marcus would be stupid to believe it, he just accepted it as his daughter's lack of experience making it more than what it was, though he knew his daughter better than that and a tinge of doubt had always remained.

"You're staring at it again, huh?" Lord Silas's voice broke his reverie. Sitting opposite Marcus at the study table, the slick black haired man's sharp eyes glimmered with amusement.

"By now, he must be even more powerful," Silas added. "It won't do you any good, even if he passed through this town…"

Marcus sighed, conceding the truth of Silas's words. A boy who could match trained soldiers as an unranked fighter would now be a prodigy among first-rankers, no way in the world was he undiscovered by those who recognised talent. By this time, he would likely have reached his second job as pathfinder—or perhaps even beyond.

Especially after what Silas had revealed. Marcus truly believed every word said by his daughter now. He had heard the account from the lone second-ranker knight who had survived the infamous battle at Faerunian Knight Headquarters—a fight that had sent shockwaves throughout the north. Few knew the true details, but Silas and Marcus did. The knight had returned gravely injured but alive, an extraordinary feat considering the battle involved multiple third-rankers.

The knight's testimony had been hard to believe. According to him, the Sunblade boy—was a monster in a child's body—he had delivered a strike that crippled a third-ranker. An absurd feat, one that belonged more to myths and legends than reality. Perhaps Sir Galen Thorneborn's weakened state had lowered his defenses, but even so, the gap in power was incomprehensible.

But those tales were now relics of the past. The boy was gone, and with him, Marcus's chance to secure the Sunblade lineage for his house. Not that it mattered anymore. His daughter, Lucian, had secured a far grander match—the royal Godflame household. The fourth prince of Dawnstar would elevate their house to heights Marcus had only dreamed of.

Lucian's talent rivaled that of the Sunblade boy. Unlike him, she will not be held back just because of her relatively new noble lineage. She had talent matching closely to that Sunblade boy, She was the brightest star the north had produced in decades. With her marriage to the prince, even the warden of the north—The Damned Duke—would bow before the might of House Goldilocks.

Marcus snapped out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

"Your obligations," Silas replied dryly, "and my damned punishment. The fight down south. Are you coming or not..? We still have a lot to prepare, my men are already here.."

Marcus smirked. "Of course. Those damned sand rats call themselves an Empire? Time to see how much power their so-called emperor commands."

Eldoris, the elf-born kingdom had proven tougher than any of the four kingdoms had believed them to be. After miraculously repelling the Ashenvale invasion, they had turned their sights inward, launching a bloody campaign of conquest. Marcus's own king, Theron Godflame, had sought to carve a piece of the crumbling Ashenvale pie for Dawnstar, but the elves had proven relentless.

Reports of strange potions and tools had unsettled the kingdom, yet Theron pressed on, unwilling to abandon the costly campaign. To make matters worse, The Empire was making a more aggressive approach to their south border than they did before. It was clear they wanted to make a clear path to Ashenvale and take the piece of the pie as well. They only moved after seeing Dawnstar struggle and a bit too invested into the foreign land, making them call for reinforcements from even all the way north of the kingdom.

Marcus would have never put himself in a direct confrontation with the Empire if he could have avoided it, but the damned king had really grasped the tail of his desires and pulled hard. Extending the engagement offer of his fourth son toward him. Giving the Goldilocks who already had enough money and status through trades and mines, their lifelong desire-a good old magical bloodline. The royal line of Dawnstar was not as old as other kingdoms, with being only under less than two centuries of history, but compared to the third generation noble house of Goldilocks they were titans.

It was the best match for his talented daughter, known throughout the kingdom as the best talent, far surpassing any youngster coming out of the north in the past decade or two. The Northern Ice Blade was a name known to all in the kingdom of Dawnstar.

Two days later, Marcus Arubeus Goldilocks stood in gleaming armor at the head of an army of 5,000. The force was a mix of his own soldiers, northern lords' levies, and 2,000 mercenaries. Though not the strongest second-ranker in the north, Marcus was undoubtedly its finest commander.

Beside him rode Lord Silas, his trusted ally for years. That's how they had maintained their monopoly on the north's politics for so many years, Silas's power which was unmatched in the quality in the north and his wealth. And now, they were heading to war together.

"Take me with you. I can help," Lucian said, clutching the sword Marcus had gifted her on her 14th name day.

He smiled with pride but shook his head. "You know you can't come. This is your year to enter Highsword Academy. Your training is complete, and also your fiancé is expecting you to be there.. You have to use this time together well and conquer him.. But also rank as best as you can in the Highsword rankings.. The influence is necessary but strength is absolute.."

Lucian hesitated, then nodded, her regret clear. They had already discussed this; it had been her decision to join the academy only after her 14th name day, as a fourth or fifth year student.

"Take care," she added softly. "I know you're prepared, but still… come back soon.."

Marcus could not help himself seeing her make such a face and pulled her into a hug. For them it was not easy, he had made sure to raise her as disciplined as she could be, she was his only daughter after all, but that left something to be desired in the shows of affection part, he knew she wasn't much sentimental to begin with and never really showed a need for such things and he followed her wishes, but the little she showed always managed to melt his heart.

"Work hard and shine the brightest among all of us.. I know you can do it.. I believe in you, Lucian.."

When they parted, Marcus donned his mask of nobility, suppressing the emotions that had threatened to surface. With a nod to his family, he mounted his horse.

For him the war awaited.