Chương 117: Chapter 17: The King's Seal - Part I

Havlar POV Six months have passed since the royal envoy left Fallowspire. Eight months have passed since Kaelen first arrived at our gates, carrying the ashes of Blackthorn and little else. In those eight months, the Grove has grown into something none of us could have predicted, and the man who planted it has become far more important to this city than I suspect he ever intended.

Much has changed in that time, some of it quietly and some of it with enough force to alter the balance between people who had once believed themselves entirely separate. Now, the consequences of those months are sitting in front of me. A letter bearing the King's seal. I had known this was coming. Ever since Marcus Wycliffe rode out of Fallowspire with Father Aldren beside him, I have understood that the Grove would not remain a local curiosity. Marcus had listened when Garrick explained what had happened to him.

He had looked at the Grove, seen the Silverwood and the Heartwoods, and understood what the possibility of Communion meant. He had not needed to witness the ritual itself. Garrick's own words had been enough to make the implications clear, and once Marcus had seen the man standing before him, capable of perceiving mana where he previously could not, there had been little reason to doubt what he was already beginning to suspect.

I had watched the envoy leave knowing that his report would travel far beyond Fallowspire. For six months, I had waited. Now the waiting is over. I pick up the letter again and run my thumb along the edge of the parchment. The wax seal remains unbroken; the royal crest pressed deeply into its surface. There is something unsettling about seeing that symbol on my desk. Not because the Crown has never taken an interest in Fallowspire, but because I know precisely what this particular interest is likely to concern.

The Grove. More specifically, what the Grove might be capable of. I break the seal. The parchment unfolds with a quiet crackle. The opening is formal, as expected. The King's name follows, along with the usual courtesies and acknowledgements of my position. I skim past them until I reach the portion that actually matters. The royal reports have been reviewed. Reports, plural. So, Marcus's account did not simply disappear into some forgotten chamber in the capital. It reached the people who mattered.

My eyes continue down the page. The Grove has been noted, the Silverwood has been noted, the Heartwoods have been noted and then I reach the part I had expected to see. Garrick. I stop reading for a moment. Six months ago, Marcus had looked at the Captain of Fallowspire's Guard with something I recognized immediately. It had not been fear. It had not even been simple curiosity. It had been calculation. Garrick had told him the truth. Kaelen had brought him into the Grove. The ritual had taken place.

The Grove had accepted him, and when it was over, Garrick could perceive mana. That fact had been extraordinary enough. But the questions that followed were far more dangerous. Could it happen again? Could the Grove choose another? Could Communion awaken mana in people who had been born without the ability to perceive it entirely? And if it could, what would happen if someone tried to turn that possibility into a system? I fold the upper portion of the letter back slightly and continue reading.

The King does not ask those questions directly. He does not need to. Instead, he informs me that he has decided to visit Fallowspire personally. My eyes remain on the sentence for several moments. The King is coming, not an envoy, not a priest, not another representative carrying questions from the capital. The King himself. I lower the parchment slowly. There is no threat in the letter. No demand that Kaelen be brought before the Crown. No declaration that the Grove falls under royal authority.

Nothing that could reasonably be called hostile. That almost makes it worse. Marcus had been right about one thing. The Crown would not need to arrive with soldiers to exert pressure. It could arrive with courtesy, assurances and carefully chosen words about protection, cooperation and the greater good of the kingdom. And beneath all of it would remain the same question. What can the Grove do? I look toward the window.

From my chambers in the keep, Fallowspire spreads beneath me in layers of stone and smoke, its streets winding between tightly packed buildings before disappearing into the darker reaches of the eastern district. The city walls form a broad ring around everything, their towers rising at regular intervals above the rooftops. Closer to the keep, the taller buildings of the inner city stand above the surrounding homes, their tiled roofs and narrow chimneys crowded together beneath the shadow of the castle.

Farther out, the streets become less orderly, branching toward markets, workshops and residential quarters until they eventually meet the walls and gates that separate Fallowspire from the roads beyond. From this height, the movement of the city is strangely peaceful.

I can see merchants in their stalls, carts making their way through the streets, guards changing positions along the walls and small figures crossing the bridges over the river, all of them moving through their ordinary routines beneath the watch of the keep. The city looks almost tranquil from here, as though the walls and towers have managed to hold every worry within them and leave only the familiar rhythm of Fallowspire visible from above. Even from here, I cannot see the Grove.

The keep sits too far from it, and the city has grown considerably busier around the district since Kaelen first planted that impossible sapling. Yet I can picture it easily enough. The Silverwood standing at its center. The Heartwoods surrounding it. The paths and gardens that have slowly transformed the abandoned space into something that feels less like an enclosed piece of land and more like a living part of Fallowspire. Eight months ago, none of this existed. Kaelen arrived with ashes.

Now a king is coming to see what those ashes eventually became. I find myself thinking about the council. They know the Grove has been recognized. They have bestowed Kaelen with the title of Grovekeeper. They know the city has changed around it. What they do not know is the full extent of what Marcus suspected when he left. Perhaps that is my fault. Perhaps it is exactly why I kept certain details close.

The council has always been useful when the problem can be divided into documents, regulations and competing interests. The Grove has never been any of those things. Kaelen certainly isn't. Neither is Garrick, for that matter, and the last thing I wanted was for a room full of councilors to decide that Garrick's Communion was an opportunity before they understood what it had actually been. The Grove chose him. That distinction matters.

I have seen enough of Kaelen to know that he would never willingly turn it into a tool for the Crown, the Church or anyone else. Yet I also know that refusing the Crown outright would be foolish. The King is not some distant noble whose authority ends at Fallowspire's walls. If he wants to see the Grove, I will not stop him, I can not stop him. But I will make certain he understands what he is looking at before anyone starts deciding what it should become. I read the final lines of the letter.

The King's arrival will be announced through the appropriate channels. There is no exact date yet. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. I let out a slow breath and fold the letter carefully. For six months, I had wondered when Marcus's report would reach its inevitable conclusion. Now I know. I rise from my chair and walk toward the window, the letter still in my hand. Outside, Fallowspire continues as though nothing has changed.

Merchants close their stalls. Guards change shifts along the walls. Lanterns begin appearing one by one as evening settles over the city. Somewhere within those streets, Kaelen is probably doing something entirely unrelated to royal politics. For the moment, I envy him. I look down at the royal seal pressed into the folded parchment. Then I turn toward the door. The council is going to hate this. The council is going to hate being summoned in such urgency this late.

The council chamber is quieter than usual when I enter. Selene Arbour is already seated at the opposite head of the table, her attention shifting toward me the moment I step through the doors. Brenner sits nearby, his fingers resting against the table as though he has been waiting impatiently for the meeting to begin. Elira is reading through a report she clearly has no intention of finishing now, while the remaining councilors settle into their places around the long tables.

I sit at my usual sit, the head of the table. Marrec, responsible for agriculture and the city's food stores, watches me carefully. Veyra, who oversees civic law and internal affairs, has already straightened in her chair. Alden, responsible for the treasury, stops tapping his fingers against the table. Tavin and Rhea exchange a brief glance before turning toward me. They know something is wrong. I place the letter on the table.

"The King is coming to Fallowspire." The silence that follows is almost immediate. Brenner is the first to speak.

"The King?"

"Yes."

"Here?" I nod. That single answer is enough to stir the room.

"Why?"

"When?"

"Has something happened?"

"Is this about the Grove?"

"Did the Crown send another envoy?" The questions overlap until Selene raises her hand, "One at a time." The room settles. Her eyes remain on me, "Why is the King coming?" I look down at the letter for a moment before answering, "Because of the Grove." That earns a different kind of silence. Brenner leans forward, "What did the envoy report?"

"I don't know everything he reported."

"Then what do you know?"

"That he was interested in the Grove."

"Interested enough to bring the King here?"

"I assume so." Veyra's expression tightens, "You assume?"

"The letter does not contain the envoy's full report." Selene watches me carefully, "But you knew what the envoy would report."

"I knew."

"And you knew the Crown might take an interest."

"I did." Her gaze remains on mine, "How long?" I don't answer immediately. The room seems to grow quieter.

"Since the envoy left." A murmur moves around the chamber. Tavin speaks first, "Six months?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell us?"

"No." The irritation comes quickly, "You knew the Crown might be interested in the Grove and said nothing?"

"I knew the Crown might become interested in what the grove can do."

"That distinction hardly matters now."

"It mattered six months ago." Alden leans forward, "Why?" I look around the room. Because I knew exactly what would happen. But saying that aloud will only make them angrier. Still, there is no point avoiding it anymore.

"Because I didn't know what exactly the crown would know." Brenner frowns, "And now?"

"Now I know the King is coming." Elira sets down her report, "What could possibly be in that Grove important enough for the King to come personally?" I remain silent. She notices.

"So, there is something."

"There is always something."

"Not like this." I look at the letter again. I take a slow breath, "There is something you need to know." Every eye turns toward me, "The envoy learned about Garrick's Communion." The reaction is immediate. Several councilors exchange confused looks. Selene's expression changes first, "Garrick's what?" I glance around the room, "His Communion." Brenner looks genuinely bewildered, "Captain Garrick underwent Communion?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Before the envoy arrived."

"Why were we not told?" The question comes almost immediately. I don't answer it. Alden looks from me to the others.

"What happened?"

"Garrick had never been able to perceive mana." That sentence seems to take several moments to settle. Then Veyra speaks.

"And now?"

"Now he can." The room goes still. No one asks another question for several seconds. Then everyone starts asking them at once, while I try to answer all the best I can.

"How?"

"Because of the Grove?"

"Are you saying the Grove awakened him?"

"Yes."

"Can it happen again?"

"I don't know."

"Was Garrick born without an affinity?"

"Yes."

"Does Kaelen know how to do this?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

"How many people could undergo it?"

"I don't know."

"Does the King know?" I raise my voice, "Enough." The word cuts through the chamber. I look at each of them, "I don't have answers to most of those questions."

"But you knew this for months," Veyra says.

"Yes."

"And you deliberately kept it from the council."

"Yes." Her expression hardens, "Why?" I feel the irritation rising in my chest. Because I had seen exactly where this would lead. Because Garrick himself had only recently begun understanding what had happened to him. Because Kaelen didn't control the Grove. Because the Grove had chosen Garrick. And because I refused to let the council turn an unexplained miracle into a resource before we even understood it. Instead, I say the simplest thing.

"Because I am the city lord." The room falls silent.

"I decide what information needs to come before this council and when." Veyra opens her mouth. I don't let her speak.

"You would have done exactly what you're doing now." I gesture toward the room, "You would have asked whether it could be repeated. Whether we could send more people. Whether the city could control access to the Grove. Whether Garrick could be used as proof that the process works." No one answers.

"Six months ago, we had one man who could suddenly perceive mana after being accepted by the Grove. We didn't know why. We didn't know whether it could happen again. We didn't know whether Garrick was an exception." I place my palm against the table, "And I was not going to let this council turn him into an experiment." That silences them. Selene studies me for a long moment, "Does Kaelen know the significance of what happened?"

"He knows."

"Does he know the Crown is interested?"

"Yes, he has an inclination."

"Does Garrick?"

"I haven't spoken to him about the letter." Selene's gaze drops toward the royal seal, "Then the King may know more about the Grove than the people who live beside it." I don't answer. Because she may be right. Brenner finally speaks, "What happens when the King asks us to repeat the Communion?"

"We don't know if it can be repeated."

"What happens if he asks us to try?"

"Then we tell him the truth."

"And if he demands it?" I meet his eyes, "Then we deal with that when it happens." The chamber remains tense. No one seems satisfied. Good, for neither am I. But there is one thing I am certain of. The King isn't coming to Fallowspire because he wants to see a collection of unusual trees. He is coming because somewhere inside that Grove, something happened that could change the balance of power in the continent.

And now that the Crown has decided to look for itself, there is no longer any way to keep that possibility hidden. Selene finally reaches for the letter, "When is he coming?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"I don't know." She studies the royal seal for several moments before returning the parchment to me, "Then we had better be ready." I nod. The council begins discussing preparations, but I find myself listening only half-heartedly. Their questions move from the King's arrival to security, accommodations and protocol, but beneath every discussion sits the same unspoken concern; Garrick, the Communion and the Grove. And what the King will do when he finally sees them for himself.

When the meeting finally ends, I remain seated for a few moments after everyone else begins leaving. Six months ago, I had watched Marcus Wycliffe ride out of Fallowspire knowing that the Crown would eventually come looking. I had simply hoped I would have more time. Apparently, I was wrong.