I woke up as a King in a Fantasy World

Jareth took a moment to process everything he had just learned. The weight of responsibility was already pressing down on him, but a new thought crept into his mind—what if the enemy didn't come for him directly?

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Alright, let's say the other kingdoms get smart. Instead of coming for me, what if they come for you? I mean, wouldn't it be easier to just destroy you or snatch you away?"

The sword let out a loud, exasperated scoff. "Oh, please. Do I look like some fragile trinket you can just steal and pawn off? If it were that easy, I'd have been long gone by now."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "So you're unbreakable?"

"Well, I wouldn't say unbreakable—"

"—Indestructible?"

"Now you're just flattering me."

Jareth rolled his eyes. "You sure talk big, but I bet if someone took a hammer to you, you'd sing a different tune."

The sword made an offended noise. "Brat, if someone dares to try that, they'll find their own limbs mysteriously separating from their body. I don't need you to protect me."

Jareth exhaled. "Fine, fine. But explain—how exactly does your bond work? If I'm bonded to you, can't someone just force me to hand you over?"

The sword huffed, as if insulted by the very idea. "Of course not! Let me break it down for that thick skull of yours. While I said we're bonded through blood, artifacts don't actually have blood. What we have is our essence. It's like blood, but better. It's what makes us sacred and all-powerful. Mere mortals can't just waltz up and take an artifact. In fact, unless you're bonded to one, you can't even touch it."

Jareth frowned. "So... you're saying artifacts are basically off-limits to everyone but their chosen wielder?"

"Ding ding! You do have a functioning brain! But yes, precisely. The only ones who can truly interact with an artifact are those we're bonded to—or another artifact. And that, brat, is where things get really interesting."

Jareth squinted. "…Interesting how?"

The sword let out a dark chuckle. "Because while humans can't touch us, we have no such limitations when it comes to them. Humans are fragile little things. We could cut them, burn them, shatter them into pieces… and they wouldn't be able to do a thing about it."

Jareth suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was holding an incredibly powerful, possibly sadistic, talking sword. He carefully adjusted his grip. "...Noted."

Jareth tapped his fingers against his arm, his mind whirling with thoughts. 

"Alright, let's go back to something you said earlier. You claim that the more land the kingdom controls, the more powerful you—and by extension, the people—become. So… what about the fallen kingdoms? What happens to their people? Their powers? If they had different abilities before, do they just—poof!—disappear into thin air?"

The sword let out a deep, amused hum. "Oh, ho! Now that is an interesting question, brat. You're finally asking the good ones."

Jareth frowned. "Wait, so the others weren't—"

"Shh! Let me have my moment." The sword cleared its nonexistent throat before continuing. "First things first—those who have already awakened their abilities don't just lose them outright. However… since their original artifact, their source of power, is gone, their abilities will weaken over time. Think of it like a candle slowly burning out."

Jareth nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "And what about their descendants? If the artifact that originally granted them power is gone, do they simply grow up without abilities?"

"Not necessarily. The next generation—the children who are under thirteen and haven't undergone their awakening—can still receive a new seed from the ruling artifact, which in this case, would be me."

Jareth narrowed his eyes. "A new seed? You mean they can be replanted with a different power source?"

"Exactly. Since the fallen kingdom's artifact no longer exists to nurture them, these children will be integrated into the domain of the ruling kingdom. The Vaelcrest Kingdom follows this process through a secondary ritual designed specifically for them."

Jareth processed this carefully. "And what happens to children who already had a seed from their original kingdom? Does it just disappear?"

The sword's voice carried a hint of intrigue. "That's the most fascinating part. Instead of vanishing, the original seed can actually merge with the new one, creating something entirely different. These individuals, known as double-seeded, often develop abilities that are distinct from both their original and new lineage. Their powers are more complex, sometimes unpredictable, and in many cases, significantly stronger than those of an ordinary awakened individual."

Jareth frowned. "So you're saying that when a kingdom falls, it doesn't just lose its land and leadership—it also alters the very nature of its people's power? And some of those who survive end up stronger because of it?"

"Precisely. It's a rare but powerful phenomenon. The fusion of two seeds doesn't always create a perfect balance—sometimes, one power dominates the other, and other times, an entirely new ability emerges, unlike anything seen before. These individuals are highly valued, as their capabilities often surpass normal expectations."

Jareth let out a slow breath. "Do we have anyone in this kingdom who has undergone this process?"

The sword's response was immediate. "Yes. The best example is one of your strongest subordinates—Atticus Varro."

Jareth's brow furrowed. "Atticus? He's a double-seeded individual?"

"Indeed. His ability is one of the most mysterious and formidable among the kingdom's warriors. It was born from the fusion of two different sources, resulting in something entirely unique. You may have noticed how different he is compared to the others. His power isn't something easily classified or countered."

Jareth absorbed this carefully, his mind racing through the implications. If Atticus—one of his most formidable subordinates—was the result of this process, then it meant that the remnants of fallen kingdoms were not merely discarded but could become some of the strongest assets within the ruling kingdom. 

"Being double-seeded really is something else… So tell me, what exactly can Atticus do? Have you seen his power in action?"

The sword let out a thoughtful hum. "As far as I know, his abilities revolve around inflicting pain, disrupting cognitive functions, controlling emotions, creating hyper-realistic illusions, and even manifesting abstract concepts into reality." The sword paused for a beat, as if considering something. "But I also know he's holding back."

Jareth tensed slightly. "Holding back? You mean he's even stronger than what people think?"

"Obviously," the sword scoffed. "That man's just toying with what he can do. Imagine a beast that's been muzzled—it could rip everything apart if it wanted, but for some reason, it chooses not to."

Jareth exhaled sharply. "That's… concerning. I already felt how dangerous he was when I met him. Could he have linked into my mind? Maybe he already knows I'm not who they think I am?"

The sword snorted, clearly amused. "Pfft! Not a chance, brat."

Jareth wasn't convinced. "And how can you be so sure?"

"Because this palace isn't just some fancy building—it's heavily restricted. No one can use their abilities inside these walls unless you, the king, allow it." The sword's tone turned smug. "You think the people of Vaelcrest would just let someone waltz in with a mind-reading ability and poke around their king's brain? Ha! There are all kinds of dangerous abilities out there. We can't have someone sneaking in and turning the royal palace into their personal playground."

Jareth crossed his arms, still uneasy. "So you're saying Atticus couldn't have read my mind?"

"Unless you personally gave him permission, nope."

Jareth let out a slow breath of relief.

"How trustworthy are the king's subordinates? How many does he even have?" He paused, then frowned. "And… should I tell them the truth about who I really am?"

The sword hummed in thought before answering, "The king has seven subordinates. They are among the strongest, most capable people in this kingdom, handpicked to serve and protect you."

Jareth leaned forward. "So, they're absolutely loyal?"

The sword let out an amused snort. "Loyal? Hah! That depends on how you define 'loyal.' They are bound to the throne, to Vaelcrest, and to me, but personal loyalty to you? That's a different story."

Jareth's expression darkened. "So you're saying some of them might betray me?"

"Not necessarily," the sword said, almost lazily. "But trust isn't something you just inherit—it has to be earned. Some of them might already be devoted to you, while others… well, let's just say they're more devoted to their own goals. You'll have to figure out who's who."

Jareth exhaled slowly, processing this. "And what about telling them the truth? Should I?"

There was a beat of silence before the sword spoke again, its voice lower and more serious. "That, brat, is entirely up to you. But let me ask you this—what do you think will happen if they find out you're not really their king?"

Jareth stiffened. He had thought about it before, but hearing it said out loud sent a chill down his spine.

"Will they see you as an imposter?" the sword continued. "An enemy? Or will they follow you anyway, believing in you rather than the man you replaced?" The sword's voice turned almost teasing.

"Besides," the sword continued, its tone almost smug, "these subordinates of yours? They aren't following you just because of some blind devotion. No, no, no. They followed the king—the real one—because, despite his inability to manifest his ability, he was a genius."

Jareth raised a skeptical brow. "A genius? You mean the same guy everyone kept whispering about, saying he was 'incomplete' because he had no powers?"

The sword scoffed. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. That man could have ruled circles around half the so-called 'gifted' rulers of this world. He was a great king—sharp as a blade, cold as winter, and ruthless when necessary. A terrifying mix of intelligence, strategy, and, let's not forget, wisdom. He always knew the right move to make, the right words to say, the right people to keep in check."

Jareth folded his arms, unimpressed. "So basically, he was a tyrant with good PR."

The sword let out a hearty laugh. "You could say that! But he wasn't just cruel for the sake of it—every calculated decision he made had a purpose. He was the kind of ruler who could strike fear into his enemies and inspire his allies. A rare combination, if you ask me."

Jareth groaned, rubbing his temples. "Great. So not only am I replacing someone with a legacy of power and wisdom, but I also have to convince these subordinates that I am that same brilliant, ruthless, all-knowing king… while knowing absolutely nothing about how to run a kingdom?"

The sword hummed in amusement. "Well, when you put it that way... yeah, you're pretty screwed."

Jareth sighed. "Fantastic. Just fantastic."