The Dao of Magic

80 - Ruminations

'...would have to word it bloody carefully. Or not carefully. And have some random asshat write it down. My handwriting on a proposal guarantees that it's going to be burned to shit immediately.'

The king stands in silence, looking down a dark pit. The visual spectacle of a never ending hole is quite fitting, his thoughts are doing the same thing. His only free time of the week is usually spent in this fashion. He spends the only alone time in his life staring at the tool that keeps power in the hands of his so called subordinates.

'The economic angle would be the best, I think. Have some of my lesser known allies praise the possibility of squeezing out the last fucking bit of money still left to the general populace. Make it a festival that encourages spending money, maybe. One free day a year is not too fucking much, right?'

Rubbing his beard slowly, the First Defender mulls over this possibility. He has been trying to claw back some shreds of power and control after his grandfather squandered it all. Now the royal family has no more say in how the Food Dungeon gets exploited, causing food prices to rise even further. Quotas keep rising while less and less money is sunk back into the all giving miracle that is the dungeon hidden in the middle of the Capital.

'It will take a few months or years, but I think that with some careful manoeuvring, I can guarantee a single free day per year for our labour force. Then those ass licking shitstains of a nobility can never get rid of me. The recent chaos is starting to sway public opinion against me, that should fix it.'

There used to be professional armies raiding the food dungeon daily, guaranteeing that the massive city around the castle could get fed. The fact that easily-won dungeon food is being sold as an imported good, with the correspondingly higher price, is a small evil. To the king, it seems better than letting everyone starve. And better than shovelling more money into the hands of the noble faction with a transportation monopoly.

'It's a shame that the dungeon religion is taking root even deeper, it encourages the common man to be content with his fucking ass-monkey shitty way of life. This entire asswipe of a kingdom hasn't changed in thousands of years, in part thanks to the mages' stalemate. Those pompous arrogant idiot-'

A tinkling sound interrupts the king's spiralling thoughts. He looks up from the dark abyss to the source of the sound.

'A green coin?'

He lifts the small, semi transparent item from the balcony railing. A simple visage with a circle on its forehead is engraved on one side. The other side is blank. Looking closer, the king sees a rather small picture of the coin itself on the face's forehead. Looking even closer, he sees the same picture on the small engraved coin once again, it seems to be going on forever.

He twirls the coin around his fingers for a bit, looking around for the source. Nothing seems out of sight. The soldiers and slaves are still delving with hurried steps. It seems rather organized, it's just a shame that the resting areas in between decads and the lobby contain more fighting between the noble's factions forces than what happens inside the dungeon itself.

He looks suspiciously at the weird object, and with a shrug of his shoulders, puts it to his forehead.

YOU ARE HERE → ·

Massive letters float next to an arrow pointing to a small dot. The king freezes as this image appears inside his mind like he is visualizing this image by himself. He jerks the coin from his forehead and the image disappears.

'What in the fucking bloody hell hells of all hells...'

Slowly and gingerly, he lays the coin against his forehead once again.