Vasilias stood in the doorway, a wooden scepter in his right hand, waiting anxiously for the woman opposite him to make some move to acknowledge his presence. Instead, she simply continued to stare blankly out the window. Annoyed, he lifted his scepter off the floor, and slammed it back down again, creating an audible thud.

And she continued staring.

She knew he was here, and she knew who he was. He had no doubt about that. And yet, she continued to ignore him as if he was nothing more than an insect. The audacity. Had she been anyone else in the whole damned multiverse, Vasilias would have struck her down in an instant for such a blatant insult against him. Even now, he could feel his rage building up inside him with each breath that he took, fierce, consuming and uncontrollable, like the blizzards that ravage the lands of Aralheim.

He had to keep it in check.

The Duchess wasn’t just anyone else, he reminded himself. She was a being of immense power and might, possibly existing since the ages of Flayer and the boat. If this meeting turned into a physical confrontation, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to come out on top.

“Paziru.” Vasilias stated at last, his powerful voice shattering the silence about them.

“Ah.” The Duchess said, turning to look the King of Countless Worlds directly in the eyes, an action that somehow managed to send a shiver down his spine. “That.” The Duchess stepped towards him, with a calculated grace.

“I assure you, I was equally displeased by the developments on that plane as yourself.” The Duchess offered what was likely intended to be a reassuring smile, but even as her lips curled, her eyes remained static, as if moving in concert with the rest of her face was something they simply could not be bothered to do.

“Developments!” Vasilias growled, his fist clenching tightly around his scepter. “Is that what you call half a plane lying in ruins?” He snapped, no longer making any effort to disguise his outrage. “Hundreds of thousands of innocents are lying dead in the streets due to your machinations!”

“Something which you surely are aware that I had nothing to do with.” She paused. “You are aware of who was responsible, are you not?”

“Do not think me oblivious to your games, Duchess. I am fully aware.” Vasilias glared at the woman. “You manipulated the situation on Peziru so that the only way your playmate could stop your plans was to destroy the entire plane, then you made sure that there was a clear trail of evidence leading back to him. Not so much that it looked planted, of course. Then you expected me to kill him for you.” Her expression remained unchanged.

“You certainly have a wild imagination, your highness.” The Duchess said, taking another step towards him with that mechanical grace of hers. A lesser man than he would have been intimidated. “It is something I would implore you to get a handle over.”

“I think my imagination is just fine.” The king’s smile was wicked and predatory. “You, on the other hand, made the mistake of taking me for a pawn in your games. You figured me too ignorant to figure out your plan and too weak to pose a threat to you. You underestimated me on both fronts.”

Vasilias held out his left hand, and opened it to reveal a small artifact. Above the device, it projected the image of a metallic sphere, slightly larger than a human head, with several small holes around the surface that appeared impossibly black. For just an instant, a fraction of a second before she was able to regain her composure, Vasilias seen the woman’s expression change. Not just the forced, mechanical expressions she normally showed, but something real. Whether concern, outright fear, or something entirely different, he couldn’t be sure, but he knew it was there. And he wasn’t going to waste his new-found momentum.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Her expression revealed nothing, turned back to the mask it had been, but he had already gotten his answer. “Then you also know its power. With only one of these, I can unravel the fabric of an entire plane.” Vasilias moved to the Duchess, until they were practically nose to nose. “I have six in my possession. And I’m willing to bet that I can use them to create more if the need arises.”

“Get to your point, Vasilias.” The Duchess said coldly.

“The point, is that I know the games you play, and the planes you play them on. If I ever have even the slightest reason to believe that either you or your playmate are operating anywhere in my empire, then I will obliterate every single world that either of you have ever set foot on. And then, when all of your mana bonds have been shattered, and the two of you are left weak and powerless…” The king’s magic flowed into his scepter, turning it to solid gold. Then, he squeezed it in his fist. The golden rod snapped in half, each of the two pieces hitting the floor with a metallic clang. The fact that the Duchess didn’t wince, flinch, or otherwise acknowledge the gesture only served to infuriate Vasilias further.

“And how, might I ask, am I to be expected to account for his actions?” The Duchess inquired with only the slightest bit of annoyance, as if the king’s threats were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Convince him.”

She considered.

“If I were to accept, would I be correct in presuming that you would also not interfere with any of the planes in which we are conducting operations?” The Duchess asked.

“Of course.” Vasilias managed through clenched teeth, his failure to get under her skin beginning to get under his own. The concession itself was a small one, and one that he had expected to make.

“It is an acceptable offer.” The Duchess nodded after another moment’s consideration. “Very well.”

This is fan-tastic. I think that one of the real deficiencies of the 'walker slate -- not just ours, mind you, but the canon roster as well -- is that they tend to skew young, just because younger characters may have more appeal to the target demographic, and also because "must stay young!" seems to be such a preoccupation for so many of the 'walkers. So it's really refreshing to encounter characters who are grappling with the realities of aging, like in this story. There's such an evocative contrast between the powers Sri can wield and the basic physical indignities of growing older. Thanks so, so much for posting this one!

This is the Alessa I love most. Every once in a while, beneath that cynical exterior, and that impish charm, a little flash of sentimentality sneaks through. I love Alessa the rogue, and I love Alessa the scoundrel, and I know why she doesn't care at times, and why she pretends not to at others. But, at the end of the day, I'm of the same mindset as Beryl: I suspect that Alessa cares more than she feels comfortable admitting. I like getting a glimpse of that here.

Drop the mic, sir, and just walk away.

I'll defer to the good Barin's expertise when it comes to the characterizations here, but I just want to say that I really enjoyed the use of language in this piece. For two people who tend to speak in a rigid manner, the dialog still has a good flow to it, which is a very tricky thing to pull off. Thanks a ton for posting this, Moonbeam! Even if you revise it for character reasons, it's easy to enjoy what you have now.