"You get it in my head, and I can't think about anything small all of a sudden," Agrathor said.
"What's wrong with that?" Pierce said.
"Not everyone wants to be operating at full blast all the time, Pierce," said Ugrata. "People like to rest their minds, to relax, especially on a day like today."
"But it's not like it's that big a deal, is..." Pierce started, then the thought blossomed.
Of course it was a big deal. Another level, another realm, perhaps another set of rules. It wasn't just adventure anymore. It was responsibility. Possibly a threat. Just because some level with a season called winter lay somewhere above and not below, that didn't mean it was benign. It would be yet another thing to deal with, now that Ugrata and Gorgonbane effectively ruled the Over and Underlands.
"What are we going to call the new kingdom, anyway?" Pierce asked on a whim.
"I'll never understand how you think, kid," Agrathor said. He took a large bite of his spiced meat pie. Pierce didn't see where it went.
"And I'll never understand how you eat," Pierce said.
"Good one, kid," Deathgripz grinned one-sidedly. It was a lot like Sev's grin. She proffered her stein for a cheers and Pierce banged his mead against hers. They swigged.
"For Gorgonshire!" Axebourne bellowed and hefted his stein, laughing.
"For Gorgonshire!" the others echoed. They drank.
Scythia shook her head. "No, too self-centered."
Everyone hmmmed, musing.
"To the United Republic of Over, Under and Subland. U.R.O.U.S.!" cried Agrathor. The cheer was not so resounding as before, but everyone toasted still, repeating.
"To the United..." the rest was lost in mumble and jumble.
"Ugh, too long," said Axebourne.
"Patience is not among the Glorious Skills, then?" Agrathor chided.
"Not patience for horrible acronyms!" Axebourne chortled and smacked Agrathor on the back.
"How about... Chasmlocke?" said Scythia. "Since we know all three levels are bound by the Chasm."
"For Chasmlocke!" came the cheer. The rest of the bar had joined in, everyone toasting. Pierce had noticed Ugrata's cheers seemed half-hearted. She must be missing Kash.
For once he blessed his distractibility, sparing nary a thought for the betrayal of Ess. Well, except for that one.
"Chasmlocke?" Agrathor said. "With an 'e' at the end? I can hear you saying it."
Scythia shrugged. "Makes it sound cooler." She winked at Deathgripz, who nearly raised a brow. Scythia leaned past Axebourne to look at Pierce.
"What about you, Pierce Forgefriend? Warherald? Brightsword? Chasmbrave? Farclimber? What have you got for this challenge?"
"Hey those are all pretty good, Scythia," Pierce said, tasting each title. "You had me scared with Gemwaster. I think I like..."
"Make with the kingdom name, kid," Deathgripz pressed. Agrathor gave her an approving punch in the arm.
"Right," said Pierce Warherald. "Well, I was thinking, why don't we let Ugrata choose? Sure, nothing turned out the way anyone expected, but technically, it was her husband who conquered the land."
A murmur spread through the bar. Everyone grew quiet in anticipation.
They all flinched when Axebourne bellowed, red beard shaking, "I deem it fair! What say you, Lady Ugrata?"
Ugrata thought, but not for long. "Well, I know my husband wasn't perfect. In many ways, he was a villain. I see that now. But he had a good dream, did he not?"
Most everyone nodded and murmured assent.
"I say we call the united lands, Kasha. All people will remember the dream, and the determination of the Underlord."
"So it is!" cried Axebourne. "Hail Kasha!"
"Hail Kasha!" roared the crowd, and they drank.
Ugrata was a few seats down from Pierce, but she caught his eye, and gave him a small, thankful nod, dark eyes hidden by unpainted eyelids.
Outside, the Flood ambled by, carrying rubble, and beams of wood, people in canoes, and the weapons of fallen warriors - the receding washwater of a world now changed.
About The Author
T. J. Marquis
T.J. Marquis is an author of science fiction and fantasy and things that fall in the spaces between.
He’s not as crazy as he looks. Probably.
T.J.’s works derive superficial inspiration from all of the expected fantastical IPs you can imagine, but the soul substance comes from such wonderful things as Progressive
Heavy Metal and Ambient music, from nature itself, from very good people, and of course from Jesus.
His wife and boys mean everything to him.
He hopes you enjoy his fiction, no matter who you are or where you come from, and he hopes it further inspires you and many more people to come. Pay it forward.
