MALLOS
The bitter cold is ebbing fast, but not fast enough for Mallos’ liking. Apart from the areas of Shaman where it’s naturally cold, such as Vista Mountains and Midnight Shores, the snow has almost completely melted and the ground is beginning to soften enough for some of the fields to become workable again. Most of Shaman has emigrated back out of the Shady Labyrinth, the majority of them taking up residence in the Commune, although many of the guards are still there to help supply movements. Supplies are the biggest problem: with the majority of Shaman’s wildlife killed in a single stroke and the necessity of waiting for crops to grow, famine is still a very real problem. Every available earth and water manipulator has joined the farmers on their plots, tempting the crops to try and speed their growth. A small number of weather manipulators have been helping to alternate optimum levels of rain and sun over the agricultural areas which most need it. Polylingualists and those with an affinity for animals are out in the paddocks, encouraging the livestock to breed.
And still, Mallos can do nothing.
He’s not a labourer so pitching in with the farmers would never have been an option, but it’s still frustrating to have no more use than he’d had in cat form when it comes to magic. With divinity, he could have cleared up the majority of the problems almost overnight; without it, he’s just an extra statistic to worry over. Even Sperantia is more useful right now, since she’s been helping to clear the rats and other pests from the barns. He could get down on his hands and knees and perform manual labour, but he’d likely be more of a hindrance than a help and, in any case, it would be a waste of his talents. He’d be put to better use elsewhere – preferably somewhere warm.
The castle is as cold and imposing as ever. Mallos has never been a fan of English-style castles, with their drafty corridors and narrow stairwells. Most of the guards are out helping people move or carrying out Arthur’s orders on supplies, but the few who remain around the palace don’t give him any trouble; either they know him from previous visits or they recognise his identity. Probably a little of both. A brief conversation with one of the parlour maids leaves him with directions to where the king is likely to be and her home address, in case he should want to ‘pop by some time’. Arthur’s office is on the other side of the castle, and it takes Mallos a good ten minutes of navigating the medley of rooms and corridors before he gets there; he knocks before entering.
As he walks in, Arthur glances up from the immense pile of paperwork and regards him with his usual grey gaze. Mallos pulls the door slowly shut behind him, using the time to scan the room and take note of its contents, before strolling casually over to the chair on the other side of the king’s desk and sinking into it. Before saying anything, he picks one of the papers off the pile at random and examines it, half-hoping Lorraine might have magically made him literate in English. No such luck: he can read the numbers easily and just about make out the word ‘carrots’ from phonetics, but the rest may as well be gibberish. Mallos replaces the paper regretfully and leans back in the chair.
“If you had found her items sooner, she would have found another way to punish Shaman,” he says after a moment. “You have met her; you have seen what she is like; do you believe she would ever have accepted them quietly? One way or another, your family were always going to be the probable target. It is extremely unlikely they would have escaped her vengeance, however close an eye you may have kept on them. Your eyes are no match for her magic.” He taps the table thoughtfully. “If Aura had not been brought back from the dead, the most likely scenario is that you would be there with her now, along with the rest of your family. Gwythr would undoubtedly have taken control of Shaman and executed any threat to the throne, except your mother, who would probably have been his prisoner. I do not believe in the inevitable, Arthur,” he holds the king’s gaze securely in his own and speaks the next words slowly and firmly, “but I do not see any way where anything you could have done would have changed what happened.”
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