Chapter 1006: A “Magic Movie”
Roland had not received her in the study.
Wendy led Lorgar into the castle parlor, and Lorgar stopped just inside the door. Beside Roland sat a woman she didn’t recognize — dressed well, composed, watching Lorgar the moment she entered with eyes that didn’t move or soften. The kind of stare that felt like measurement. Lorgar disliked it at once.
“There you are.” Roland’s posture was as easy as always. “New task. Take a seat.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” After half a year in Neverwinter, Lorgar had learned that the formalities were largely optional in private rooms. She sat across from the unknown woman, tail held at attention, and said: “But I have something to report first. About the Southernmost Region.”
“Let’s hear it.”
She told him what the letter had said: the larger clans in Iron Sand City, unhappy about the migration numbers, the quiet friction building around the Silver Stream Oasis. “I don’t think they’d push as far as attacking Port of Clearwater directly,” she added. “But it would only take one incident to undo months of settlement work. The main force of the First Army isn’t there anymore.”
Roland stroked his chin. “The General Staff anticipated this when they planned the relocation. It’s been nearly a year now. The groundwork is in place.” He met her eyes. “I mean that the problem won’t need to come to us.”
Lorgar followed the thought. “You’re going to let the locals handle it themselves.”
“The First Army has to focus on the Battle of Divine Will. We can’t station them everywhere.” A small smile. “But I do appreciate your father’s letter. His cooperation would be useful — if he’s willing to act.”
“I could write to him.” The words were out before she’d considered them — and then she considered them, and noticed that she had already been thinking of this as her side of the problem. The chief’s side. She’d been thinking of herself as standing in his corner without meaning to.
“Leave the politics to me.” Roland waved it off. “That’s not why I asked you here.” He gestured toward the woman. “This is May. You may know her by her stage name: the Star of the Western Region.”
Star Flower Troupe. Lorgar had only learned the name because Echo had mentioned it. She knew two things about it: it existed, and it was famous. Beyond that, nothing. She watched the woman rise from her chair.
“Princess Lorgar of the Wildflame Clan.” May dipped into a graceful curtsy. Her voice was warm and measured — the voice of someone accustomed to filling spaces. “It’s a pleasure. I look forward to working with you.”
Working with me. Lorgar looked at Roland.
Roland’s lips curved. “Do you remember what I once said about building acceptance for witches whose abilities change their appearance? That people shouldn’t judge by looks — that someone with scales, or fur, or features that have shifted is still one of us. The fastest way to accomplish that is to put a face to the story.” He paused. “I want you to be in a play.”
Lorgar’s ears flattened involuntarily. “I don’t know anything about acting. And I haven’t seen anyone in Neverwinter treating me poorly — it isn’t necessary—”
“You won’t be performing in front of a live audience,” Roland said, and the certainty in his voice cut her protest off cleanly. “The target isn’t Neverwinter residents at all. This is something new. I’m calling it a — no. The correct term is magic movie.”
“Magic movie.”
He turned and placed something on the desk between them. A crystal prism, silver-white, with three gemstones embedded in its face in deep ghostly-blue stripes. When the light struck it from certain angles, the stripes seemed to move. It was the kind of object that pulled attention without advertising itself.
“The Sigil of Recording. A Taquila-era legacy device — like the Sigil of God’s Will, but different in function. It doesn’t manipulate time. It records it.” Roland let her look at it. “We recovered it through the Senior Demon and the Devilbeast we captured. There are very few of these. Precious is an understatement.”
“When I first saw what it could do,” May said, stepping forward, her composure cracking slightly at the seams in a way that looked genuine, “I could barely believe it. You see — in theater, everything is ephemeral. The performer’s age, her experience that year, even the exact mood she brings to the evening — all of it is one-time. Each performance is its own thing, and it disappears when the curtain falls. Her best performance exists once and then it’s gone.” She paused. “But if the Sigil can record it — if we can rehearse until every gesture and expression is exactly right, and then capture that final perfect version — it’s not ephemeral anymore. It lasts.” Her voice had dropped to something just above a whisper. “That’s a miracle.”
“The Sigil was historically used to preserve ceremonies and meetings,” Roland added. “Applying it to narrative performance is new. The story I want to record is based on your life, Lorgar. I spent the better part of half a month writing it.”
That stopped her.
She didn’t care about acting. The mechanics of performance, the techniques May was clearly prepared to teach — none of that meant anything to her. She had no interest in stages or audiences or applause.
But a story. His story. About her.
What did he think of her? What had he concluded, watching her these past months?
“All right,” she said. Her ears moved once. “I’ll give it a try.”
Chapter 1006: A “Magic Movie”
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
To Lorgar’s surprise, the chief did not receive her in his study.
Lorgar followed Wendy into the castle parlor and noticed that other than Roland Wimbledon, there was also another woman she did not know in the room.
She surveyed the woman with curiosity and noticed the latter was also studying her attentively. Lorgar did not like the way in which the woman stared at her. It was such a piercing stare that she had an impression the woman could see through all of her thoughts.
“There you are,” Roland said, as laid back as he always was. “I need you to complete a new task. Please take a seat.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lorgar replied. After living in Neverwinter for half a year, Lorgar learned that the chief did not take the etiquettes very seriously. She went straight up to the lady and sat down in front of her, tail high in the air. Then she said, “However, I want to tell you something about the Southernmost Region first.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting,” said Roland as he raised his brows. “Go ahead.”
Lorgar related the news she had learned from her father and said, “I don’t think the clans in Iron Sand City would pose any threats to Port of Clearwater, but it would be a good idea to keep our eyes peeled. It takes time and effort to develop a virgin land but only a second to destroy it. We need to stay alert, especially considering that the main force of the First Army isn’t stationed there anymore. They are all back to Neverwinter.”
“I see,” said Roland thoughtfully as he stroked his chin. “In fact, the General Staff has foreseen this kind of situation when they proposed to relocate the clansmen. It has been almost a year now. I believe they’re well prepared.”
Lorgar asked thoughtfully, “You are referring to…”
“That’s right,” Roland said, flashing back a smile. “As the First Army has to get prepared for the Battle of Divine Will, we can’t rely on them to take care of everything in the kingdom. It’d be better to let the locals solve the problem in the Southernmost Region themselves.” Roland paused for a few seconds and then said, “But I appreciate your father’s heads-up. If he could interfere with the matter, that would be very helpful.”
“Perhaps I can write to my father.” The wolf girl blurted out. She soon realized she had already taken the side of Neverwinter… or rather, the chief’s side before she even noticed it.
“It’s politics. Leave it to me.” Roland waved away Lorgar’s request. “Plus, I asked you to come here not to discuss those serious political matters. Let me present May to you. You are probably more familiar with her other name: the Star of the Western Region.”
“Star Flower… Troupe?” Lorgar was a bit surprised. She took little interest in plays. In fact, she had not known the name of the troupe until Echo had told her. Lorgar knew nothing about the troupe except that there were two famous actresses admired by everyone in Neverwinter.
She wondered what she had to do with the troupe.
“You’re Princess Lorgar of the Wildflame Clan, right? Growing up in the desert, you look indeed quite different from us.” May finally stopped gazing at Lorgar. She rose to her feet and dipped in a curtsy gracefully. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Lorgar. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Working with me?” Lorgar was completely in a blank. She gave the chief a bewildered look. May was not a witch. As for herself, she did not have a talent in acting like Echo. It did not make any sense for her to work with May.
“Let me explain it to you,” Roland said, a faint smile playing about his lips. “Do you remember I once said that more people should accept those witches who possess abilities similar to yours? People shouldn’t judge a person by their looks. No matter how strange their appearances are, they are one of us, even if they have scaly faces. Starring in a play is definitely the fastest way to let people know about you.”
“You want me to be on stage?” said Lorgar, panic-stricken. Although the residents in Neverwinter weren’t blatantly discriminating her because of her ears and tail, it was a different story to put herself in the spotlight. Lorgar protested, “But I know nothing about acting, and this isn’t something I’m good at either. I haven’t seen anyone show hostility against me. Perhaps you should find someone else…”
“Don’t worry.” As if seeing through her mind, Roland replied, “You don’t need to act in front of strangers, and the target audience isn’t Neverwinter residents either. This is something brand new. I call it mo — No, it should be termed as ‘magic movie’.”
“Magic movie?” The wolf girl echoed.
Roland presented her a strange-looking crystal on his desk, and then she noticed it was not just a piece of ordinary ornament. There were three gorgeous gems embedded in the silver-white prism, patterned in ghostly blue stripes. As the light hit the prism from different angles, Lorgar saw flickers of light reflect off the surface of the striped prism.
“This is called the Sigil of Recording. Like the Sigil of God’s Will, it’s a legacy device used in the Taquila Age. It can create various magic effects if used in combination with other magic stones,” Roland explained. “However, it doesn’t mean that the Sigil can manipulate time. Instead, it records it. Thanks to the Senior Demon and the giant Devilbeast we captured, we obtained many high-quality magic stones, including this one. It’s very precious, so it isn’t easy to get hold of one. In other words, you aren’t acting on the central square or anywhere else, but in this very world.”
“When I heard we can do such a wonderful thing with magic power, I couldn’t contain my surprise and excitement,” May put in. “Ms. Lorgar
doesn’t know much about plays, so you may not understand what this implies. Our performances depend on various factors, such as the actress’ age, her experience and personal condition. Therefore, we can’t expect her each show to be perfect. She can only have her best performance once.”
“However, His Majesty is now able to record our best moments, which means we can rehearse our every single movement and expression until they are perfect. This is a miracle!”
“I’ve heard the Sigil was used to record important meetings and ceremonies. It’s an ingenious idea to experiment with it on plays. His Majesty decided to write a play based on a real story.” May heaped praises on Roland. “I’m certain once the news gets out, all actors will be exhilarated. They will be willing to pay tons of gold royals to witness this historic moment.”
“Ahem.” Roland was a little embarrassed, an expression that was rarely seen on him. “Star Flower Troupe should take the full credit. You’ve done a lot over the past two years in terms of political propaganda.” He then turned to Lorgar and asked, “What do you think of it? The story is based solely on your personal experience. It took me nearly half a month to write it.”
Lorgar did not have the faintest idea what the “magic movie” was. She could neither relate acting to the miraculous magic stone, nor did she want to waste her precious time on something she had no interest in. However, when Roland told her that the story was based on her personal experience, she changed her mind.
“Well in that case… I’ll give it a shot,” Lorgar replied while shaking her ears.