Chapter Text
The Sable Knights’ arrival was the least expected event of their journey. They came bearing positive news, however – most of their strike force perished, but after Altea’s vessels escaped, Archanea abandoned Grust entirely. The survivors quickly assembled a new militia from eager volunteers, and nobles who went into hiding helped reestablish the kingdom’s bureaucracy. News of their successful escape at Chiasmir, and later from Khadein, had catalyzed more hope than they excepted! It was a bright spot Jubelo needed on this harrowing, heart-wrenching day.
“When Sir Ymir pitched the idea we were hesitant. Leiden suggested he should go in our stead. But he insisted since he already had the honor of fighting with Prince Marth, and suspected we longed to help you too… and, well, he’s right,” Belf bashfully admitted. “He also said he could handle the peacekeeping with Archanea gone. Seeing how smoothly reconstruction was going, we took him up on it.”
“The desert made me wish we went with our original idea,” Leiden complained.
Roberto chastised, “Oh come now, Leiden! They went through the same suffering we did!”
“And how does that make ours any better?”
“Knock it off! What matters is you made it safely!”
The two knights quieted down and faced their lieges. “Apologies, Princess Yuliya.”
Marth commented, “Regardless, you three had your work cut out following us. And while your lieges create a strong incentive, I’m still surprised you spent that effort for me after opposing your general during the last war.”
“It’s what he would have wished of us. Our disgrace might be written off, but we never truly rejoined the army. We’ve been loosely affiliated at best, only stepping up because Grust’s darkest hour called for it,” Belf explained. “What Camus really charged us with was protecting the weak, regardless of nationality. And while it might sound paradoxical chasing fugitives into the hinterlands, we believe your expedition represents us all – Grust, Altea, and beyond. Archanea endangers you as it does us. Aiding you is our best way to fulfill his final wish.”
“Very well said. Twould be cruel of me to turn you away in no man’s land. Welcome to the expedition.”
The prince extended his hand across the table and shook with all three knights. Belf smiled and replied, “Thank you, sir. Now, if I may ask what you are traveling through no man’s land for?”
“Flame Barrel is an awfully long way from civilization. If you’re planning to take Archanea by surprise, you’ve gone too far north,” Leiden criticized.
Wendell spoke, “After His Highness rescued me, my mission became entwined with his. We are journeying to the Ice Dragon Temple to meet with Lord Gotoh and repair the Starsphere.”
He nodded. “Oh, right. That. How have you managed?”
“We just found the last piece today.” He removed the Pisces shard from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Bantu found it being guarded by a fire dragon off the beaten path. We don’t know how it ended up here but we are fortunate to have found it!”
Marth happily held it up to inspect. “How fortunate indeed! I was not looking forward to telling Gotoh we came up short!” After seeing the familiar pulse, he stowed it in a leather satchel with the rest. “Lord Gotoh also promised us the Lightsphere, which we will need when we inevitably confront Hardin. Once we recover both spheres, we’ll march on the Empire and free Archanea from its tyranny.”
Roberto wondered, “That sounds nice, but how are we planning on getting back? We’re months deep into Archanea’s wildest frontier!”
“I expect Lord Gotoh will warp us all back. He gave Anri the same privilege and has warped my whole army to Thabes and back before.”
The knights blinked. “Wow! Really?”
“He, uh, warped us to Grust for our birthday once.”
“That he did, Prince… anyway, Prince Marth. I believe we’ve sufficiently touched base,” Belf said.
“Agreed. I am still surprised you came all this way for my sake, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” Marth rose and concluded, “You are all dismissed. I need to check with Jagen and assess the damages. If you have the energy, please consider helping where you can,” before slipping past the group.
Belf and Leiden pulled back the flaps for the archbishop and their lieges and followed them out of the war tent. The expedition set up camp in a canyon just past the valley, where a cool inflow freshened the air yet the ambience remained warm. Cozier than the frigid slopes ahead – a welcome reprieve after that hellish crossing. The damage was abundant as they walked through camp… one unfortunate wagon was half smoldered. Reserves were in the process of salvaging what they could, along with another wagon that looked fine until they saw the cindered back corner. Others attended the draught horses, all exhausted and a few even collapsed on the ground. The wyverns, pegasi and warhorses fared better, but the latter two still looked fatigued.
Wendell frowned. “My, my. The tribesmen did a lot of damage.”
Yuliya commented, “I’ll say. I would hate to leave our packs on one of those wagons.”
“The rear was a madhouse. Getting through that savage mob was no easy feat. Especially with fire dragons hogging the damned road. Not to mention dodging allied fire,” Leiden rambled. “Sigh. I swear, if we didn’t make it before those archers lobbed that explosive volley, we’d be cooked.”
She and Jubelo stared dumbfounded. You guys got through THAT?!
Roberto rubbed the back of his neck and confirmed, “Yeah, we had to weave in in the middle of that fight. Could have picked a better time to arrive.”
“We could all have picked a better path if one was available. But I digress. It’s amazing a road exists through this valley in the first place,” Belf interjected. “Anyway, aside from you and Prince Marth, there is another reason we wanted to join you.”
“Sir Sirius?” Jubelo assumed.
“Correct. You wouldn’t happen to have a firmer answer on his identity, would you?”
He and Yuliya exchanged brief glances, and the latter answered, “We get the feeling, with all that he’s been helping us, but good luck getting a straight answer from him.”
“I have no horse in this race, but Sir Sirius is very secretive in his spare time. All we have to speculate on are his actions,” Wendell added.
Jubelo mentioned, “He does talk to other people though. Maybe you can try asking them?”
“It’s a plausible path forward. But this isn’t something we can expect to wring out of-”
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
All three Sable Knights stiffened, but especially Belf. Of all the times to run into him! Although Sirius’s tone sounded innocent, his mask and stoic demeanor made him challenging to read. He turned around, fighting to conceal his fluster, and replied “Uh, n-no, Sir… Sirius. We were just…”
“Catching up with our little lieges,” Leiden finished for him. He and Roberto hastily nodded.
“I see. I commend your dedication for following us in spite of the journey. If you are not busy, however, we would appreciate your help in the stable area. Eight of our draught horses are in a very bad state; we already lost three and can’t afford any more.”
“Certainly! If Your Highnesses will excuse us…”
Sirius stepped aside to let them hurry past, and after a brief silence turned toward the twins. “And how do you fare? I hear Ogma took you on a short detour, Prince Jubelo.”
He glanced down and muttered, “It’s, nothing you need to bother him about. I’m still upset, but, not for reasons surrounding… uh, him…”
Sirius’s stare seemed inquisitive. Yuliya clarified, “What he means is, we were stretched for manpower and Ogma needed what he had. Jubelo was not hurt, leave them alone.”
“If you say so… forgive me for my concern.”
After he about-faced and departed, Jubelo looked back up and said, “Thanks Yuliya. I wasn’t sure how to answer without, uh…”
“Then stop thinking about it. You need to improve your articulation but we’ll worry about that when you’re in a better mood.”
She peeked past him to see the mask knight glancing over his shoulder. His head quickly turned away. Maybe you won’t say, but your concern is telling.
“Well said, Yuliya. But I believe we should lend a hand too, if you are able. Fatigue may be beyond healing magic’s capabilities, but Sir Sirius is right. We need those horses healthy,” Wendell advised.
“I agree, Master, and I’m fine to help. Will you be alright, Jubelo?”
“Yeah, I should be. This place feels safe. I’ll see you later Yuliya, Master Wendell.”
While he was fine being apart from them for a while, Jubelo was admittedly at a loss of what to do. Camp was pretty barebones, being thrown up just past hostile territory before the sun set, and most people were busy. The Sable Knights were consulting with Sir Cain on where to begin; he paused to stop Luke carrying a pail of water for the horses and pointing to a path outside. Likely to cool it, since steam was rising off the top. Although they were clear of the worst, remnants of Flame Barrel’s volcanism bled into the surrounding mountains. Jubelo prayed what Prince Marth said about the White Sage was true… he never wanted to retrace that nightmarish bridge.
He noticed an unusual gathering in the opposite passage… on closer inspection, it included several who fought during the last battle. Linde stood with her hair down and her arms crossed while Roderick circled around her with a pair of scissors, evening it out with meticulous clips; Cecil watched from the side. Prior to their sortie, her ponytail reached down to her knees… now, her untied hair stopped at hip level. While her outfit was mostly intact, the charred hem on her robe’s rear flap hinted at what happened.
“Wow, Rody. I knew you could cook, but trimming hair too? It’s like you’re a natural!”
“I have three younger sisters Cecil. We’ve been over this before.”
“Right. Hehe… silly me.”
Linde was plainly irritated even from this distance. Hurry UP, Roderick. I have better things to do! Her discontent was tame compared to the mage on the opposite side, however:
“I said NO ribbons! I am a dignified scholar of Khadein, not your fashion doll!”
At his right, Arlen was arguing with the pair of dancers cleaning up his hair – one must be Xane. His robe was more heavily burned, and his blonde locks only rolled to his shoulders now. The two Phinas stood on flat rocks to match his height… which also let them pester him to his face. Oh dear, Jubelo thought. Close by, Navarre leaned silently against the canyon wall with a drab expression, occasionally glancing their way but mainly staring to his right. Following the swordsman’s gaze, Jubelo spotted a few familiar figures: Ogma was seated on a rock, with Samuel hovering around with a mirror while Caeda evened out what was left of his mullet.
“I think the shorter cut looks good on you! But the left’s still looking a little long.”
“I see that, Samuel. Let me finish the back first,” she muttered, scooping with a comb to isolate the right length between snips.
“Don’t fret too hard, Princess. It’ll be fine as long as no one’s gawking.” Ogma was the first to notice Jubelo approaching as his eyes caught him in the mirror. “You okay, Prince Jubelo?”
“Yeah. I’m better. My sister and Master Wendell are helping care for the horses. I just, ah…”
He replied, “That’s fine. You ought to relax after today.”
“I’ll say! Facing fire dragons is any state is a feat! I still get wobbly trying to hold a wyrmslayer right.”
Jubelo sent him an astonished look before shifting his gaze back. “I was only going to tell Princess Caeda what happened until Samuel bumbled in midway through. He won’t say a word if you aren’t comfortable with it,” Ogma explained. “Right, Sam?”
“Yeeeah, I get it. I won’t say a thing. Sorry about that.”
His sheepish reaction let the mirror slack until Caeda shot him a glare while motioning him to raise it again. Her expression calmed as she glanced to Jubelo and said, “I’ll say the same thing as Ogma: you did the right thing giving that dragon its peaceful rest. Marth mentioned how hard today was for him after Xane enlightened him on the fire dragons’ plight. We’re very proud of everything you did, even ignoring that chance Starsphere shard.”
“Totally! Not every day a kid your age is brave enough to run into the inferno-”
“Samuel, please hold that mirror straight.”
“Ehe… sorry again, Princess Caeda!”
Hearing their reassurances helped numb the pain from today’s trials. Despite his bumbling, Samuel had a point: running to support the frontline under heavy pressure was very brave. He could picture Lorenz and his forefathers smiling upon him… for the first time today, Jubelo felt a soothing warmth that brought a smile to his weary cheeks.
Gordin furiously scribbled the last footnotes of Chapter Three’s outline, grimacing through the throb of his aching temples. Shut up, SHUT UP already! There’s too much to recover right now! After putting down his quill, he pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “Okay. Chapter Three’s good. Next?”
“Chapter Four: Knowing your Surroundings. Address the importance of the arrow’s-”
“The arrow’s arc, elevation, wind, precipitation and more. Got it. Let you know if something gets fuzzy.”
Jeorge tried to filter the exasperation from his sigh. If your mind is getting hazy, then perhaps it’s time we TAKE a BREAK. He leaned back on his cot, rolled his eyes and noticed a certain princess shyly peeking in. “This isn’t a good time, Princess Yuliya. Master Gordin is very busy and in a foul mood.”
“I uh, heard,” she stuttered, slipping around the flap while Gordin looked up from his notebook, a spare he intended for the final draft. She rolled her staff’s shaft in her hands and struggled to maintain contact with his grumpy mien. “I-I-I… saw what’s left of the wagon you senior knights’ packs were on. And some of its contents… h-how bad, is…”
“This is all that’s left.”
Her expression gaped when he held up the old notebook sitting at his left. Its cover was thoroughly charred, and the degree its cover folded inward indicated that many pages were ash.
“I don’t know how much is still legible. But I know a lot of it’s gone…”
Yuliya felt miserable when he tensed up, dipping his head and clutching the book as tightly as his eyes. She could the sheer frustration in his furrowing brow, unsure whether he was about to cry or knock the stand over. It reminded her how powerless she felt when reports of Archanean atrocities flowed in. She put on a braver face and promised, “You’ll get it all back, Master. You laid this out once, you can do it again. I’ll help in any way I can if you need-”
“What I need is peace and quiet.”
She fell silent as he scrolled his exhausted eyes back up. “I appreciate you want to help, Yulie, but right now I’m trying to outline everything I wrote so far. Master Jeorge is helping me with that. We can practice again once I salvage what I can.”
He slapped the wasted notebook back down next to him before retrieving his quill to continue writing, without regard to her. Yuliya stared a few more seconds before switching to Jeorge. “Please leave. He’s taking this very hard.” A little too hard with what he could’ve lost.
With a sad nod, she turned around and ducked under the flap. Poor Gordin. Ryan wasn’t kidding about how upset was. He lost so much of his life’s work. She glanced down at her Rescue staff and considered, If I lost you to those savages, I… I… Tightening her grip, she winced and shook off her stupor. Nonsense. I’d still be a junior cleric, just as he is still Altea’s finest archer. We WILL overcome this setback, just like Jubelo is overcoming his. Failure will not keep us down!