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Chapter Text

“Try every door! They’ve got to be here somewhere!”

For most of the Archanean League this was a time of triumph: Gharnef, the man who thrust their continent into a years-long war, was defeated. Many soldiers breathed a sigh of relief that the Dark Pontifex would no longer torment them; for some it was especially cathartic. Prince Marth in particular celebrated reunion with his older sister, who had been taken captive by Gharnef for some unknown scheme. All that lay ahead was Dolhr, and they would besiege it in high spirits.

But for a select few in the know, a more pressing matter remained. Wendell, a bishop from Khadein, received news about two other prisoners Gharnef took while passing through the city. This news wasn’t to be taken lightly… he only broke his silence with Lorenz, a veteran general of Grust. If anyone needed to know it was him – it was his country that was at stake here.

Now the pair trawled the dark, cracked halls of Thabes joined by two of the General’s trusted allies, Princess Caeda of Talys and her bodyguard Ogma. They met no resistance, as Gharnef’s disciples and surviving Dolhr troops scattered like ash, but time was of the essence. Who knows how much longer they would last? Held in these miserable conditions at such a tender young age… Lorenz feared the worst. The burden of worry overshadowed that the hot, stale air bore. They had to find the children soon – they banged on every door, he and Caeda calling frantically. No one answered.

“Jubelo!? Yuliya!?” he pleaded loudly, checking yet another door. “If you’re in there, answer me!”

“We’re here to help you! If you can hear us, please speak up!” Caeda cried.

Nothing came of this corridor… Wendell rounded the corner to try another. He held a fireball in hand, both for light and as a means of self-defense. With his free hand he knocked on the first door.

“What- who’s there!” a high-pitched voice yelled from behind it.

“Hm?” The bishop turned around and beckoned, “Everyone, come quick! I think I found them!”

“St… stay back!”

“It’s alright child, I’m here to help,” he assured in an audible yet gentle tone.

“Just, slide the food in the door and-”

Lorenz ran up to the iron door and called, “Princess Yuliya? Is that you?”

“…Is, it that?”

“General Lorenz, Your Highness. We’re here to rescue you! Is Prince Jubelo there?”

“Yes, he’s here with me!”

“Bishop, douse your flame,” he quietly warned. The bishop’s firelight was quickly replaced by Caeda’s lantern. Lorenz tried the iron door’s handle, but it wouldn’t turn. He growled, “Damn, locked!”

“Ogma, could you…”

“At once, Princess… stand back, General.”

The mercenary stepped forward, lined up his blade and struck the locking mechanism with all his might. Screams echoed from within.

“It’s alright children, we’ll get you out!”

Lorenz took center and pushed the door open. The lantern’s light poured into the stony chamber and illuminated two small children huddled together in the back. Dressed in threadbare skirts, their blonde hair and pale skin was marred by oils and filth. The girl held the boy tightly in her spindly arms, their eyes shut as they whimpered in fright.

He stepped inside. The smell was horrendous but it was the least of his concerns. He brushed aside a bowl and some scraps while otherwise calmly approaching the children. “Prince, Princess, it’s alright.”

After a few seconds hesitation, the girl struggled to open her blue, sunken eyes against the lantern’s light. Squinting she was able to make out the general’s figure as he knelt and stretched out his arms. Gradually she relaxed, and the boy peeped his eyes open as well. “L… Lorenz?”

“It’s alright… Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya… you, you’re safe now,” he whispered, fighting back tears from his one eye.

Cautiously the girl scooted towards him, her brother close behind. Their whimpers grew louder as they slipped into his embrace, then evolved into weeping, and finally loud sobbing. Lorenz held them close, unable to keep his tears at bay… he wasn’t the only one.

“My god,” Caeda muttered, handing the lantern off to Wendell and sinking into Ogma’s. “H-how could anyone keep them in such conditions?... Hnn, nn…”

Her bodyguard silently cradled her. The bishop had to wipe tears from his own eyes.

Once the twins’ crying subsided, the general said, “It’s, it’s good to see you alive, Your Highnesses… how are you? Tired, thirsty, hungry… be honest.”

The twins’ breathing was labored, still reeling from the shock of their reunion. Jubelo hummed a bit trying to give an answer. “Mm… I, we…”

Yuliya cut him off. “Where’s Camus?”

“And Father! Are… are, they…”

Lorenz exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, children… your father, King Ludwik… and General Camus, are no longer with us.”

Jubelo muttered, “No… no, no, no, no…” He suddenly stopped, his eyes wide. It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but his eyes shut and he went limp.

“Prince!?”

“Brother!? No! Don’t… dun… ah,” Yuliya sighed as she too passed out.

Caeda squeaked, covering her mouth. “Oh no… Lorenz, are they-”

“Hold, Caeda!” He checked their vitals and felt a faint pulse; and on closer observation they breathed weakly. “They’re alive, but we have to act fast. Bishop?”

“Khadein has among the finest clerics in Archanea. Perhaps Lord Gotoh-”

“That’ll do. Caeda, send for Lord Gotoh!”

“A-at once!” She broke away from Ogma and into a full sprint before she finished her sentence.

“Caeda, wai-”

“Help them, Ogma!”

He paused, retracted his hand and turned back around. Bishop Wendell waited as General Lorenz emerged from the chamber, one twin draped over each arm.

“If you could take the Prince, that would be appreciated. He’ll be easier if they stir,” he said.

“…All right. Give him here.”

The hot mid-afternoon sun blasted the desert, and though Khadein’s clever architecture mitigated it the air remained warm. Still, the occasional wind spell helped shuffle air when there was nary a breeze. A mage in red fanned a small gust to his forehead, cooling a head of long, wavy blonde hair. Were it a from certain peer it’d be too great, but he could count on himself to throw the right amount. He sat alone reading a tome in his teacher’s office, tasked with managing the place in his absence. Not that students frequented it in these uneasy times – fine by him. Arlen disliked unwanted guests.

The loud zoom of a Warp spell nearly sent him tumbling back. He caught himself with the desk and gawked at the group that had appeared. “What the f- Master!?”

“It's good to see you again, Arlen.”

He stood up and asked, “Master Wendell, who are all these… is that the White-”

“I can explain later. These are Grust’s heirs that Gharnef kidnapped, and they need clerical attention!”

“Uh, right. At once!” He scrambled around them and swerved left down the hall.

Wendell, carrying the prince, led Lorenz and Gotoh behind him at a fast stroll. Khadein’s residents were bemused by the group but quickly stepped aside; a few bowed their heads in reverence to the White Sage. Arlen was waiting at the infirmary’s entrance and led them to a private ward, with two beds and two clerics he’d drafted. The girls gasped upon seeing the children’s awful state.

“A room to themselves… good, thank you,” Lorenz said, laying the princess in her bed. Wendell laid the prince in his and stepped back while the clerics set to work.

“Good gods, Arlen said they needed clerics immediately, but I never expected this…” She muttered a prayer and held her staff over the princess – it had minimal effect. “I’m sorry, but these ailments are beyond the reach of healing magic.”

“Do you have food and water?” Wendell asked.

“Yes, over there. But until they wake up we can only do-”

“You can start by cleaning their hands and faces,” Arlen instructed.

“Ah, yes sir,” she replied. The two clerics headed to a cabinet and took out cloths and lotion.

Lorenz turned to Arlen and said, “Arlen, was it? Bishop Wendell said it was you who relayed news of the children to him. On behalf of the Kingdom of Grust, you have my sincerest gratitude.”

“It was nothing,” he responded, looking away. “I was only doing what Master Wendell would ask of me.”

“Even so, this is far from nothing. Please, accept my thanks.”

“Um, sure…”

“You’ll have to excuse my apprentice. Arlen’s never been the best with people,” Wendell explained.

“What is the status of Khadein?” Gotoh inquired. “Do Gharnef’s disciples still have a foothold?”

“Unfortunately… after the Archanean League departed his heretics moved right back in. Fewer than before, but with that decrepit fiend out there I have to accommodate-”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that decrepit fiend is gone,” Wendell interjected with a smile.

Arlen paused in surprise, as did the clerics. “Really?”

Gotoh nodded. “I crafted a tome that could pierce Imhullu and your teacher defeated him.”

He grinned. “Then, we can finally be rid of them.”

“Yes. The prince and princess were my first concern, but that was my second-”

“Arlen, what’s going on!?”

Everyone turned to the hooded figure peering through the door.

“We told you no guests were allowed- Egads!” He jumped when he eyed the two children. “Are those the…!? Arlen, when Master Gharnef hears about this…”

“Your Master Gharnef is no more!” Wendell announced, holding up Starlight. “And your kind are no longer welcome in this city!”

“What!? No! You… er, you’ll never take us alive!” he declared before making a run for it.

Wendell glanced at the Gotoh. “Shall we expel these upstarts from your school?”

“Any help would be appreciated.”

“Arlen?”

“This has been a long time coming,” he snarled, cracking his knuckles and then bolting out of the room. “Students of Khadein, hear me! The time has come to…”

The White Sage quickly followed him out. Wendell trailed them, but doubled back to ask, “Will you be alright with the children, General?”

Lorenz lifted the flaps of his cape. Although his lance was left at Thabes, he carried a sword around the left hip and a bow behind his right shoulder. “As a knight, I’m prepared for anything.”

The bishop smiled. “Good. We’ll be back as soon as we’re finished,” he assured and closed the door.

Sounds of fighting erupted shortly after, faint and distant but concerning. Lorenz turned to the cleric tending to Yuliya and requested, “Pardon me…”

“I’m Helen, and that is Sarah, sir.”

“Helen, do you and Sarah have everything you need?” He gestured to the door and added, “If so, may I-”

“I, I’d be more comfortable if it was locked. Please… this room is well stocked,” Sarah replied.

“All right, thank you. As you were.”

Without another word the general hastily approached the door and clicked it shut. Then he calmly stepped back, took up a good vantage point and pulled out his silver bow. He nocked an arrow but kept the bowstring lax, ready to draw at the first sign of intrusion. His eye didn’t rest on any one place for too long, constantly shifting between the door, the windows, the corner, the clerics, and most importantly, the young prince and princess.

That’s where his gaze landed the most frequently and held the longest. Be strong, my young lieges.

Chapter Text

A faint orange glow lit up behind the darkness as feeling began to return to Yuliya’s body. She felt her lips dry and hard as sandpaper, the starved churning of her stomach, and the warm, soft cushion of her resting… soft? This wasn’t the cold hard stone they were forced to rest on… come to think of it, the glow in her eyes was new.

“General! The princess is beginning to stir!”

“She is?”

Rattling armor followed the sounds of those two voices. Groggily she began to open her eyes – the bright golden tint of the room were stressful to someone so accustomed to pitch black. The shadow cast by someone looming to her right made the task slightly easier… covering her forehead with one hand helped further. Gradually her eyes began to adjust and she could keep them open if she squinted.

“It’s a relief to see you wake, Princess Yuliya,” Lorenz spoke.

“Lorenz?” She forced herself to sit up despite his gesturing and squeaked, “Where… where am I?”

“We’re in Khardein’s infirmary.”

“Kh- Khadein!?” Her eyes widened as far as they could and she gripped Lorenz’s chestplate. “You, you brought me back HERE!?”

“Calm down Princess, please! You’re safe now. We brought you here for treatment.”

“…Are, are you sure?” she nervously asked. “The last time we were here, Gharnef… he locked Jubelo and I in a dark room, like…”

“It’s alright Princess, Gharnef is gone. You’re not going back to the dark room.”

“Bishop Wendell is a kind man. He would never lock you and your brother away in such horrible conditions,” a cleric assured.

Yuliya withdrew her hands and her shoulders, head and eyelids drooped. “Mm… a-all right.”

“This is Helen, Princess. She and Sarah over there are treating you and your brother.”

“My brother?” She snapped back to attention and looked to her left, where another cleric was watching her from behind the resting prince. Almost on instinct she tried to roll out of bed, but Lorenz and Helen caught her before she cleared the side.

“Princess, wait! You need to rest!”

“I have to see him! Let me go!”

“Princess, if you give me just one minute I have a solution! Please, be still!”

It took her a moment to stop resisting, but Yuliya rolled back to her seat and crossed her arms. “…Well, make it quick!”

Lorenz glanced between the two clerics. “Sarah, Helen, I need your help for a moment.” The clerics gave a quick nod.

Yuliya watched carefully as they took posts at the head and front of his bed while Lorenz moved to the side opposite her. On his cue they began sliding it inch by inch towards hers. She could barely sit still while her dear brother jostled closer and closer, squeezing the sheets and holding her breath. Finally the foot of his bed bumped next to hers, followed closely by its head. She immediately shimmied to the edge of her mattress and placed her hand over his.

“He’s alive. Give him time and he’ll wake too,” Lorenz promised. “In the meantime, is there anything we can do for you?”

“We have bread if you’re hungry, and water here if you’re thirsty,” Helen said, pointing to a cabinet and a few jugs.

“Well, I am hungry, and thirsty… but, Jubelo needs it first!”

“I’m sorry Princess, but he cannot eat or drink until he’s awake. Otherwise, he might choke.”

“At least accept some water… with how dry Thabes’ air was, you must be parched,” Lorenz insisted.

“But I… alright, I’ll take a cup.”

Sarah drew a cup from the cabinet, filled it with water from one of the jugs and at Lorenz’s behest handed it to him. He brought it to the princess’s side and held it to her lips. “Take your time. There’s plenty for you and the Prince… don’t drink too quickly.”

Yuliya held her hands around Lorenz’s and he tipped the cup. Warm as it was the water felt refreshing as it slid down her throat, most of it absorbed before it reached her stomach. She had to pause once it did, after the third gulp… though it was just one cup she hadn’t drank like that in ages!

Lorenz withdrew the cup when she started pushing it away. She then clutched her belly and curled over. “Mmm… hah, hah… I, think I’m going to have to get used to drinking again…”

“Easy there Princess, severe dehydration shuts down parts of your body. Give your belly time to reawaken and it'll pass,” Helen explained.

“It’s, starting to feel a little… hah, better.” A few deep breaths later and she was able to straighten herself out. With her thirst sufficiently sated she refocused her attention on her brother, who still lay unconscious. He needed to drink too, soon, before it’s too late… she began nudging his shoulder.

“Princess I would ask that you let him rest-”

“But he needs to wake up!” Helen and Lorenz tried to intervene but that only incentivized her to push harder. “He needs to, wake-”

“Mm…” Jubelo mumbled and jerked away.

Yuliya gasped with delight. “He, he’s waking up!”

“Yes, now please leave him alone!” Lorenz ordered, trying not to yell too loudly. “Allow your brother to rouse from his slumber on his own.”

“Um, alright…” She pulled her hand back and started tapping her fingers together repeatedly.

“I understand you want your brother back, but he must wake on his own accord,” he stated, migrating to the prince’s side of the beds. There he could see the boy starting to open his eyes… he gently gestured for Sarah to back away.

It took another minute for Jubelo to register the general in his sights, but when he did he peeped, “…General, Lorenz?”

“Yes Prince, it’s me. How are you?”

He yawned. “Uuuuuh, I, I could hear you and Yuliya… and, others. Mm, where are we? It’s so bright…”

“We’re in Khadein.”

“Kh- Khadein?” He pulled the cover over his head and curled up. “I-I, didn’t hear that part! W-why…”

“Brother, it’s okay.”

He rolled over to peep at his sister in the adjacent bed. “It, it is?”

“Yes, we’re safe now. General Lorenz said Gharnef is gone… I think?”

“He is. And now that you’re both awake I’ll give you the full story: Wendell, a bishop of this city, defeated him with a weapon crafted to overcome Imhullu. He was also the one who told me about your location,” he elaborated. “The bishop’s apprentice caught wind of your imprisonment, first here in Khadein, and then that you were relocated to Thabes when the Archanean League drew near. Princess Caeda of Talys convinced me to defect to them… in the interest of preserving some of our kingdom’s leadership. Afterwards, Bishop Wendell informed me and we rescued you after Gharnef was dealt with. He is currently purging the remainder of the Dark Pontifex’s henchmen from this city. The clerics with us are Helen and Sarah, and they will tend to your needs.”

“That’s… a lot to take in.”

“Yes, it is. Now stop huddling under your sheets and sit up straight!”

“Princess, please! Be gentle! You two have been prisoners for years!”

“Um, it’s alright…” Jubelo folded the sheet off him and slowly sat himself up. “I’m up… do you, um, have any water?”

“Of course, we have plenty. I prepared you a cup while the General was briefing you,” Sarah answered.

“Thank you Sarah,” Lorenz said, accepting the cup and holding it to the prince’s lips. “Here Prince, drink it slowly.”

“Thanks.” Jubleo held his hands over Lorenz’s as he took his first good drink in years. After the first sip he forced it higher and thirstily took in more.

“Prince, be careful! Don’t drink too quick-”

His frenetic drink was broken by a fit of heavy choking. Lorenz pulled the cup away and Yuliya leaned in close. “HACK, HACK! …I’m… UGH!… hah, I’m, I-I’ll be alright… just, give me a minute…”

“Jubelo, you were supposed to drink slowly!” Yuliya scolded.

“I’m sorry Sis, I… I was really thirsty! I, just wanted…”

“Well, you need to control your impulses! Your belly has to readjust to holding so much water!”

“Princess, leave him alone. He’s had a grueling last three years, and so have you,” Lorenz requested. “I ask that you allow time to recover before pushing him.”

Yuliya cast her glance aside and grumbled, “I just want him to carry himself more like a prince…”

“That time will come, but only after you regain your strength. For now, you both need to rest.”

“…May we have more water? My stomach is beginning to settle.”

“Me too! And that bread over there. Can we have some of that too?” Jubelo inquired.

“Absolutely. But first, may I see your hands? I fear all your feeling around may have dirtied them again,” Helen inquired.

“All right… h-here, I’ll go first.”

Yuliya held out her hands and allowed Helen to clean them while Lorenz and Sarah fetched their meal. She kept her head titled to the side with her eyes shut until she could no longer feel the cloth working around her fingers. They were pale and bony with a few cracks in the dry, hardened skin, but they felt rejuvenated in a sense. Free of the filth that remained blotched over the rest of her arms.

Jubelo tilted his gaze down as the cleric began washing his hands next. He was calmer after observing her work on his sister, but she was still closer than was comfortable… he avoided eye contact. To his right he could see Yuliya watching the cleric intensely during her labor. When the wiping ended he flipped them repeatedly and wiggled his withered fingers. “Thank you, that’s better.”

“Try not to touch the rest of your bodies, only your hands and faces are clean. Rest them on the top sheet if you must,” she recommended. “Sarah? General Lorenz?”

“Present,” Sarah replied, carrying two freshly refilled cups and handing one to Helen.

The two clerics helped them drink – this time, they could swallow it without buckling in shock. After emptying about half their cups Lorenz stepped forward carrying a loaf of bread. He broke off a piece and handed it to the prince, then a second chunk for the princess. They wasted no time munching down on their first good meal in a long time.

Sarah beamed. “I’m glad you two are enjoying it.”

“It’s, adequate,” Yuliya responded during a pause between nibbles.

Jubelo on the other hand ravenously chomped down on his portion. “I haven’t eaten food this fresh in years! Can I have more?”

“Certainly! ‘Twould be a shame to leave a loaf unfinished after start-”

Sarah stopped when a rattling could be heard from the behind the door. Everyone was on the alert, the twins in particular huddling close to one another.

“Locked? Come on!” Knocking followed. “You can open up now, we’re finished.”

“Easy there Arlen, no need to make a fuss. General Lorenz, if you could please?”

“I’ll be right there. …Here, hold this.” He turned the loaf over to Helen and drew his silver sword.

The clerics gasped. “General!?”

“This is only a precaution. If it is truly them, I’ll have no need of it.”

Lorenz slowly approached the door, undid the lock and peered through the crack. Once he identified the faces behind it he opened it fully and sheathed his sword. “Pardon me for being careful, I had to be sure.”

“It’s alright General. You can never be too careful around dark mages, but I believe we’ve taken care of them.” Spying past the general’s shoulder he remarked, “Oh! I see the young prince and princess have come to!”

“Yes. I’ve informed them of the recent events and how you led me to their aid. Come, you ought to meet them properly,” Lorenz welcomed with a smile. He stepped aside and allowed the mages passage into the infirmary.

The bishop walked into the room followed by his company and took a respectful bow. “It’s good to see you two are already better. I am Wendell Rothfeder, a bishop of Khadein, at your service. This here is the White Sage Gotoh, and this is Arlen, my apprentice.”

“You’re the ones that helped Lorenz find us, right?” Jubelo asked “Um, thank you so much, Bishop! If you hadn’t come I, I don’t how long…”

“Brother, show a little more dignity! You are the Crown Prince of Grust!”

“Royalty or not, Master Wendell is an esteemed bishop of this city who saved your lives. Show him some respect!” Arlen chastised

“I didn’t ask for your opinion-”

“Please! Settle down!” Bishop Wendell and General Lorenz set to quelling their respective companions.

“Princess Yuliya, I understand your position, but I must ask you to be a little more respectful,” the general whispered firmly. “Carrying yourselves as royalty is as much a matter of etiquette as it is dignity. If you wish for Prince Jubelo to set a good example, then I advise you do the same.”

“Um, right… I’m sorry Jubelo, I… thought your choice of words was improper.”

“It’s okay Yuliya… although I think there’s somebody else you should be addressing.”

“Oh, y-yeah…” She turned towards Wendell and said, “Um, pardon my outbursts, Bishop… upon further reflection, my brother is right. We owe you our gratitude for freeing us from our imprisonment.”

Wendell smiled. “It’s quite alright Princess, you and the Prince must be weary from that harrowing ordeal. And the pleasure is all mine. I only sought to help you find your way back into the world.”

After a moment of silence, Gotoh intervened. “I don’t mean to interrupt, General, but we cannot afford to be away from the Archanean League for long.”

“Understood, Lord Gotoh.” He then turned towards the children and stated, “Prince, Princess, I wish I could stay longer but I’ve borrowed enough of the White Sage’s time.”

“Wait, you’re leaving? But, but…”

“I’m sorry Princess, but my duty is not yet finished. I owe Prince Marth and Princess Caeda a great debt for swaying me; without them, I would not be here for you now,” he explained. “I must fight on to repay them… and to repay the Dolhr Empire for treating our army as fodder.”

Yuliya stuttered a little longer, but then fell silent and nodded. “I understand… you’ll come back, right? No, you will come back! That’s an order! Right, Jubelo?”

“Uh, yeah. What she said… please come back General, Grust needs you too!”

He smiled and saluted. “On my honor as a knight, I plan to return with my life. In the meantime, you must begin your recovery here so that Grust’s crown may be restored to its former glory.”

“Yes sir!” She saluted him in kind. Jubelo imitated her a moment later with less steady motions.

“I have faith that the General will return to you once this is all over,” Wendell assured. “And I’ll see that you two are well cared for until he does.”

“You aren’t coming back with us, Bishop?”

He shook his head. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving the children here without supervision that you can trust. And I’ve longed to Khadein and help undo the damage… please give Prince Marth and Merric my regards. Princess Nyna, too.”

“Hm. Well said, Bishop… I would feel more at ease. In that case, I shall entrust their safety to you.”

“And I shall leave Khadein in your capable hands,” Gotoh declared, taking a bow. “Archbishop Wendell.”

Wendell stood silent for a few seconds as the sage’s words sunk in. He then bowed in return and replied, “I understand, Lord Gotoh. Your trust shan’t be misplaced.”

“I’m certain it will not.”

Without another word the White Sage headed out the exit, followed by General Lorenz. Arlen turned to his teacher with a smile, giddiness reaching through cracks of his normally grouchy demeanor. “So you’re Khadein’s new archbishop… congratulations, Master. I-I can think of no one better.”

“Neither can I. He’s the kindest bishop from his rank that I know!” Helen remarked.

Wendell chuckled. “Ahah, please, you’re too kind! …I appreciate all your support, but right now we have a more important matter to attend to,” he reminded them, gesturing to the twins.

“Uhuh.” Arlen tilted his head to them and warned, “You two ought to be on your best behavior. The Archbishop is doing you a great service-”

“That’s enough Arlen. No need to impose upon them, they are our honored guests! Now, if you could heat them water for a bath,” Wendell requested.

“Um, sure… I’ll see to it immediately.”

“Thank you, Arlen.” As his student strode out of the infirmary, the archbishop instructed, “Helen, Sarah, once they’ve had enough water, take their measurements so we can properly clothe them. I have to arrange their guest room, speak with the tailor, among other things. And don’t give them too much bread, suppertime isn’t far off.”

“Of course, Archbishop.”

“Thank you ladies. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Ta ta for now, Your Highnesses!”

Jubelo and Yuliya sat in relative silence as the events unfolded. Yuliya maintained a sharp, watchful expression, refusing to lower her guard. Despite her attendants’ kindness and General Lorenz’s insistence that this was a safe place, her prior experiences in Khadein remained fresh in memory. Her brother’s laxer outlook was another concern: she didn’t want him to get too cozy here, not when Grust would need him with the last king’s passing.

Jubelo on the other hand was more at ease, even cracking a small smile. Although the General’s absence worried him, the Archbishop’s jovial attitude and their caretakers’ diligence were winning him over. Sunlight, food and water, soon a bath and new clothes… such simple things felt like luxuries after they had been taken away for so long. Luxuries he would happily accept when they came so freely.

Prince Jubelo Ludwik von Grunia – Bashful Prince

As the first and only son of the late King Ludwik, Prince Jubelo faces lofty expectations. Ludwik was infamously weak-willed, balking at the knight’s regimen and leaving military matters to his generals, rather than ruling as King and Commander like his forefathers. When the Dark Pontifex came looking for muscle, he easily surrendered his two children as bargaining chips, forcing the kingdom into an alliance with Dolhr. Grust prays their next king won’t be such an embarrassment… sadly, the prince offers little reassurance. Jubelo was known to be timid since an early age, and two years held hostage have made it worse. His kingdom fears they’ll be stuck with another vulnerable figurehead.

All is not as lost, however. Jubelo is well-aware of his shortcomings – his sister Yuliya certainly won’t let him forget – and he’s done his best to crawl out of his shell. He may lack his sister’s force of personality, but his sensitivity has its upsides; he’s shown to be more open-minded and better at listening, valuable traits for an effective ruler. He’s not making this journey alone either: General Lorenz, Bishop Wendell, Princess Caeda and others are all here to help in their own ways. If he applies himself, he may one day grow into the noble King and Commander his people long for.

Being back at Khadein is going to be stressful though – until Gharnef had them moved to Thabes, this is where he and his sister were kept. Locked in pitch-black rooms with only meager rations, his disciples often spooking them with their magic… even now the sight of fire frightens him! Still, he can’t be afraid forever… not with Yuliya counting on him. Perhaps he might learn more than to conquer his fear while he’s here… but, not until he’s done that first.

Princess Yuliya Lizbet von Grunia – Bold Princess

Although succession follows the eldest son, one might think Yuliya a worthier heir. The prince’s elder twin sister, she is by far the dominant personality and has always been highly protective of her brother. Most who come near the prince can expect a severe, judging, and watchful glare from the princess – slight him and an earful is sure to follow. Captivity has only made her fiercer, colder and more stubborn than before. It is a rare privilege to see her softer side.

There are chinks in Yuliya’s armor though. While not as openly timid as Jubelo she’s been known to shy away from people, and she may buckle under intense pressure. She’s also become more critical of her brother and even expressed frustration over his cowardice as of late. For all her bravado she seems to harbor deep insecurities… perhaps she might need help herself? Some of her behaviors would be unacceptable in Grust’s royal court, after all.

Despite her unease being back at Khadein, General Lorenz insists this place is safe… and for what it’s worth, her new company have been far more accommodating. She does recall the court clerics saying positive things about the city, and with Gharnef’s ilk gone she might see them. Once she and Jubelo are more capable there might be something to gain staying here. Something to keep him alive and well so that one day he might flourish… if Yuliya could pick up something of the sort then it’ll all be worth it.

Chapter Text

Princess Yuliya stared into the mirror while a barber brushed her hair, straightening it out and clearing away the last trimmings. She frequently glanced to the adjacent chair where Jubelo received similar grooming from the barber’s apprentice. Beforehand they were brought to the archbishop’s quarters for a thorough bath – two in fact, as the first left the water too murky to trust. Lotions were then applied to heal the cuts and lesions spread across their bodies. Once they were dressed the clerics took them to a barber for all manner of grooming: nail trimming, teeth cleaning, and of course a haircut.

A small smile formed when the brushes and smocks were removed. Their hair was fine, blonde and wavy… Jubelo’s was straighter, while hers curled towards the tips. She felt the lock that wrapped back up just below the chin, popping it up slightly and letting it bounce. Her face was still gaunt and pale as a ghost, but seeing her hair restored to its natural luster brought promise.

“I see the Princess is enjoying her new look!” the barber remarked with a hearty laugh.

Yuliya snapped back to her usual glower. “It’s a… substantial improvement. What do you think, Jubelo?”

“Yeah, it feels like my skin can breathe again! Although, I’d be happier if, I could, bathe on my own…” he replied bashfully.

“Give it time Prince, once you regain your strength you’ll be able to act on your own again,” Sarah said. “For now though, you’ll be under Khadein’s care. Now how about we bring you to supper? I’m sure Bishop- I mean, Archbishop Wendell has had a proper meal prepared for you.”

The clerics grabbed the handles on their chairs and began wheeling the prince and princess. On the way out Helen called, “Thanks for taking the children on such short notice, Fredo!”

“Any time ladies! If they need another round of grooming come again!”

Yuliya crossed her arms and fidgeted her legs. The long white skirt bounced with them… their rags had been discarded in favor of junior clerical garb, taken in slightly due to the twins’ smaller than average stature and malnourishment. Comfortable as they were, these clothes left a lot to be desired… although Grust’s royalty preferred more modest decorum, this gown was still too plain for her liking.

When a student passing by glanced at her she looked away in embarrassment. “This feels silly…”

“I understand Princess, but when you tried to stand up you could barely make a few steps. You have a ways to go before you can walk unaided again.”

“It’s not just that… Miss Helen,” she added, deciding that the cleric deserved the courtesy. “It’s the clothes too. As Prince and Princess of Grust, we ought to wear more distinguished outfits.”

“You can talk with the Archbishop about getting new clothes later. For now, we’re more concerned about getting you clean and comfy.”

“Mhm…” She poked her head around the cleric’s hip to peer back at her brother being rolled by Sarah. “How you are feeling, Jubelo?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You don’t want better clothes, or…”

“I don’t mind these too much. They’re a lot better than what we threw away,” he said.

“Ah, all right…”

“Would you like me to slow down and let Sarah catch up? The halls should be getting wider soon.”

“Yes, that’d be preferable…”

The rest of their trip back to Wendell’s residential quarters was relatively quiet. Helen and Sarah attempted to make small talk with the twins but received minimal response. When they arrived the clerics wheeled them into a room with a dining table, where the bishop was laying out four sets of plates, napkins and utensils. He tilted his head up and greeted, “Ah, there you are! You two look much better after your grooming! How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, sir,” Jubelo peeped. Yuliya lingered on her reply.

“Take your time, Princess. Whatever you need, just ask.”

“Well, I spoke about this on the way here… these clothes aren’t exactly fit for royalty.”

“Once General Lorenz returns we can talk about proper garb, but I’m not that familiar with Grustian fashion. For now, our aim was to get you-”

“Comfortable, yes. I was told the same. For now, I suppose this is… sufficient.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He turned his attention to the clerics and added, “Helen, Sarah, I can’t thank you enough for all your help today. If you could wheel them to the table Arlen and I can handle the rest… please, have a good night.”

“Our pleasure, Archbishop.”

They seated the twins next to each other, gave a quick curtsy and left through the archway. Their exit was immediately followed by Arlen’s entrance. “The chef told me supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

“You arranged for the pot to be brought in here, correct?”

“Yes, I’ll be back shortly,” he responded before walking back out.

Wendell took his seat at the other end of the table. “I should inform you, as a desert city Khadein cannot support much livestock. Most of our diet is plant-based, but I’m sure you will enjoy it nonetheless.”

Jubelo nodded. Yuliya did not respond.

“Have you been enjoying the hospitality so far?”

Jubelo replied, “Um, yes… the people here are really nice. Helen and Sarah listen to our needs, and the barber was very friendly! …A little loud, though.”

“Oh yes, Fredo loves a good conversation. You should hear the barbershop when another one of my students visits, hoho! I enjoy paying him a visit every now and again, although I have much less use for a haircut.” He popped off his bishop’s cap to reveal a hairline that barely extended beyond what was normally visible. The prince giggled slightly… the princess seemed unamused. He readjusted his cap and inquired, “What about you, Princess Yuliya? You’ve been quiet compared to your brother. Is there a reason for that frown?”

“Mmm… n-no, this is my normal face…”

“I understand if you’re uncomfortable Princess, surrounded by all these new faces in a place you have bad memories of. But I promise you, we only mean to help and will do all we can to accommodate you and Prince Jubelo.”

“Um… all right…” She dourly tilted her eyes down and to the side. Her hands were clasped together, fingers wriggling… Jubelo quietly moved his left hand and bumped her hip gently, offering it palm up. Without a word Yuliya took it in her right hand, first tightly, then slowly relaxing her grip.

Wendell couldn’t see it, but he had an idea what was going on. It was always a pleasure to see siblings support one another. He let them be until he heard footsteps behind him. “Sounds like supper is here!”

Arlen walked in carrying a ceramic pot between two cloths and laid it on a mat in the center of the table. Steam poured out the top when he removed the lid. One by one he slid Wendell’s, then the twins’ plates closer and deposited two scoops with a serving spoon before sliding it back. The dish was a mixture of beans, mushrooms, and a handful of other vegetables with a rice base. It appeared to be seasoned given the light maroon tint of the rice.

“Would it be alright if we said a quick prayer before eating?”

The twins didn’t say anything, but they weren’t touching their meal yet either. He allowed his student to sit down and serve himself before clasping his hands together – they all did the same. Taking his cue he closed his eyes and led the table in prayer. “Gracious gods above…”

Yuliya and Jubelo were unfamiliar with it but shut their eyes and passively listened. Something about the gods’ bounty, thankfulness… they had a lot to be thankful for tonight. Strange to think of it as “tonight” as well – for the past three years, they had barely any concept of time.

“Amen,” Wendell concluded, opening his eyes again. “You may eat now. Help yourselves, there’s plenty to go around!”

The twins opened their eyes and lowered their hands, but neither picked up a spoon.

“Maybe they need encouragement,” Arlen said flatly, scooping a spoonful into his mouth.

“Ah, true!” The bishop took a spoonful off his plate and savored the bite. “Mmmmm, the chef did a fine job tonight. It’s delicious, I assure you! Give it a try!”

“I’ll go first.” If one of them should be spared a broken promise, it should be the Prince… Yuliya picked up her spoon, scraped up a portion and cautiously brought it to her lips. She blew it lightly and glanced around the table… the Archbishop kept his eyes down on his plate, minding his own supper. Arlen didn’t seem to care.

She slid the spoon into her mouth and chewed it thoroughly. It had a savory taste overall with a hint of spice, courtesy of the seasoning, and the ingredients presented a mix of textures but were nonetheless easy to process. Swallowing her first bite with no ill effect, she decided, “It’s, acceptable.”

“Must be a banquet compared to whatever… scrap they gave you,” Arlen mumbled between bites.

“Now now Arlen, leave her be. Let them take in their meal at their own keel.”

“Itch really good!” Jubelo hummed through a mouthful.

“Jubelo, don’t talk with your mouth full! Be mindful of your manners!” she chastised.

The prince gulped it down and answered, “Um, I’m sorry, Sister…” before tilting back down and taking another bite, this time more slowly.

“I appreciate you for being thoughtful, but it’s quite alright. This is your first good supper in a long time. I can forgive a slip in courtesy as long as you’re eating well,” Wendell insisted before returning to his plate.

Yuliya groaned to herself, then sighed and continued working on her own portion. It was good food admittedly – and surprisingly fresh despite being in a desert.

Yuliya and Jubelo each went on to have a third scoop before they were full. Afterwards, they cleaned their teeth and relieved themselves before being brought to their bedroom. The archbishop gave them the option of two single beds or a double bed for both, and they promptly chose the latter. It was twilight out now, and between the open curtains and the lit candle on their dresser they would not be suffering in pitch black again.

Jubelo was settling comfortably into his pillow, enjoying the soft feel and insulating warmth of the mattress. It was paradise after being condemned to hard stone floors for several years.

It would be nice if his Yuliya could relax too… she sat upright staring out the window. “Um, Yuliya?”

“Hm?” She glanced at him and asked, “Is something the matter, Jubelo?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just… actually, I have the same question for you. We’re safe and well fed now but you still seem so… tense.”

“We shouldn’t be here Jubelo, this is not our home. We belong back in Grust.”

“Yeah, I know, but… it’s not bad here now!” he rebutted. “Bishop Wendell is nothing like Gharnef, and Arlen is, well…”

“A jerk? Grouch?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say that but… yeah, he kind of is. But he’s not evil! He listens to Bishop Wendell and has been helping us with those two clerics.”

She turned back to the window. “I suppose so.”

“All I’m saying is… I think you should try to relax too. General Lorenz told us we need to rest so we can start getting better. Worrying about it all night isn’t going to help.”

“I know, Brother…” She finally laid down next to him and added, with a severe expression, “But rest and relaxation can’t be the only thing on our minds. Rebuilding our kingdom will take more than timber and tools. It needs a strong King and Commander as well… you have big shoes to fill Jubelo, and we can’t afford you slacking off or chickening out like the last ruler! Not when you lost three years of your life!”

“I, I know Yuliya… but, listen. It’s gonna take time making up those lost years… I want to do it, I promise! But, for now, you think we can get some rest? We… we…” He had to yawn before continuing – it was difficult staying awake. “We, can’t do it if we doze off, every now and… right?”

“Mm, I…” She uttered a big yawn too, her eyelids flickering. “I… guess you, have a point… mmm… goodnight Jubelo.”

“Mhm, goodnight Yuliya.”

He scooched closer to his sister when her eyes fluttered shut, huddling against her shoulder. She slid her other arm around him and nuzzled his forehead.

A soft, steady backlight against the dark curtain of her eyelids caused the princess to stir. Yuliya cracked her eyes open and scanned the room, this time with greater ease. Jubelo still slept right next to her, although she had rolled over at some point. The candle on the dresser had long burnt out, but a soft light poured in from the window.

It was harsher at its source – she had to squint while her eyes adjusted. Slipping her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up, she could more easily see the bright orange disc creeping over the horizon. It was the first sunrise she’d seen in years… it was warm, beautiful. A reminder of brighter days that lay ahead.

Cautiously she set one foot on the floor, and then the other. She felt wobbly as they had to bear more of her weight, but she was a princess of Grust. A simple exertion like this couldn’t intimidate her. She took unsteady three steps forward before realizing the strain was too great, but it was too late: she tumbled to the floor with a yell trying to retreat to the bed. Internally she cursed at her weak body, but externally she only mumbled, “Ow, ow, ow…”

“Huh!?” Jubelo awoke with a jolt, quickly saw his sister missing and scrambled to the side of the bed. “Yuliya!? Are you-”

“I-I’m okay!” she interrupted, reluctant to speak of the cramps shooting through her tendons. “I just can’t… can’t, walk yet.”

He stuttered for a few seconds before calling out. “Bishop! Bishop Wendell! Yuliya fell out of bed!”

In response he heard frantic shuffling from a room over, followed by hurried footsteps that grew louder.

Chapter Text

Slowly and unsteadily, Prince Jubelo took step after step. The archbishop had assembled a simple training aid to rebuild their leg strength: two long, parallel rails to serve as armrests. They were advised not to rely too much on the rails – give them just enough push to take the extra weight of your feet, he said. Another reason that quickly became apparent was arm strain; the constant pressure on his shoulders and elbows caused them to ache. He had to strike the right balance between arm and leg support, and even then the repetition was taxing.

Sarah walked alongside him to his right in case he needed assistance, and to provide words of encouragement. “You’re a little more than halfway. Keep it up, Prince!”

“Mmmph… I’m trying…” His limbs felt a lot heavier than when they began… this was his twentieth repetition. He wasn’t about to leave a walk unfinished, though – not when Yuliya would chew him out. Thus, he persevered with one heavy breath after every pace.

Finally, against his wobbling legs, he made it to the end. “Hah, there! … … Twenty.”

“Good! If you can hold yourself up for a moment, I’ll grab your chair.”

“Okay…” he sputtered in a low voice. Standing in place was easier, but he remained rickety – it was a relief when Sarah took his hands, spun him around and seated him in his wheelchair. His calves were throbbing but it coincided with a sense of relaxation with the weight off his legs. He glanced to the adjacent set of rails where Helen guided his sister and inquired, “How are you doing, Yuliya?”

“I’m on… twenty-two…” she answered in a strained voice. She was almost at the end… upon reaching it she swung hard-right, gripping it with both hands and catching her breath. Then she swung her right hand to the opposite rail and began another pass. Helen had assisted her in turning around the first few times, to her chagrin – she was proud to find a way to do it independently.

“Princess, are you sure you should continue? You look exhausted…”

“Hah, hah… one more… I can do this,” she insisted, taking one determined step after the next. Helen motioned to Sarah to fetch her wheelchair so that she could follow the princess at her side. She looked like she might collapse any second now.

But Yuliya was made of tougher stuff. She’s a Grustian princess; she must stand on her own two feet, she told herself. If not out of obligation, then to set an example for the Prince, for whom it was more imperative to stand for himself. And now that he was finished, she had his full attention… sore as her soles and forearms were, she kept inching towards the far end through labored breaths.

“That’s it Princess! You’re doing great!”

“Urrgh… there…” She grabbed the end of the left rail and slid her right arm to the other. “Hah, hah, hah… that’s, twenty-three…”

“Very impressive for your first session! But I think it would be wise to rest now,” Helen commended.

“Hmph, okay… I supposed I’ve earned…” She raised a hand as the cleric reached out for her and protested, “I will seat myself!”

“Oh. All right, Princess.”

Yuliya trembled as she turned herself around for one final time. She nearly gave out and fell over turning her back to the chair, but Sarah caught her hand and tugged her backwards, landing her in her seat. “I-I could have done that myself!”

“Have patience Princess, this is only your first session. I’m sure you’ll be more than capable soon, maybe even tomorrow,” Helen suggested. “Thank you for your quick action, Sarah. Now let’s bring these two back to Lord Wendell.”

“My pleasure Helen.”

Yuliya crossed her arms and grumbled incoherently while the clerics wheeled them into the halls. She still loathed to be coddled this way, no matter how necessary it was. Trying to raise her spirits, Jubelo smiled to her and said, “I think you did really well, Yuliya. If you keep this up, you’ll be walking on your own in no time.”

“It’s not good enough.”

“Huh? Yuliya…”

“We shouldn’t have to be wheeled around like toddlers. What would the people of Grust say if they saw us like this?” she bemoaned. “We need to do better next time, especially you Jubelo. You can’t afford to be frail and helpless!”

“Princess, please have patience! Others who have had to relearn walking took weeks! Twenty passes during your first session is an admirable effort, and your brother is right: if this keeps up, you might only need days to regain your legs,” Helen urged while at the same time trying to sound encouraging. “But your recovery will not happen overnight. Your bodies have limits, and if you don’t respect them you might hurt yourselves. And I believe that would make a worse impression on your people.”

Yuliya shut her eyes and hummed a low whine in frustration. Helen rolled her eyes… she glanced at Sarah, pointed down at her charge and silently mouthed, “This one.” Not wanting to aggravate the situation further, Sarah responded only with a small nod.

Things remained quiet for the next few minutes until they arrived outside Wendell’s office. Helen knocked on the door and inquired, “Lord Wendell? The children finished their morning exercises.”

“Ah, are they? Very good!” he replied from within.

“We wish to leave them in your care, if you don’t mind.”

“Normally I’d be happy to oblige.” The bishop then opened the door and explained, “But unfortunately, I’m still trying to manage my new responsibilities. I’ve been going through paperwork since early morning and I have a meeting shortly.”

“I see… well, Sarah and I were looking to take a break from the twins’ care.”

“I understand. You two have your own priorities to attend, and we drafted you on short notice…” He thought it over for a moment and decided, “In that case, I’ll see if Arlen is available.”

“Are you sure, Lord Wendell? Arlen isn’t the most… sociable…” Sarah hesitantly said.

“Yes, I’m aware. But that makes this a good learning opportunity. He’ll need to improve his people skills if he’s to be a successful bishop himself… if I ask him, I’m sure he’ll accept.”

Wendell stepped into the hall and led the clerics a few doors down. He lightly rapped the door and asked, “Are you busy, Arlen? I have a favor to ask.”

“Not too busy, Master Wendell. What do you need?”

“Come on out, please.”

Several seconds later Arlen opened the door. He met his teacher’s gaze, but then noticed the clerics standing out behind him. Wendell smile and remarked, “I see you already connected the dots. Could you watch the young prince and princess for a while? I have a meeting with the remaining bishops soon, and Miss Helen and Miss Sarah have their own matters to attend to.”

There was a short pause before he provided an answer. Normally Arlen would object – had he known in advance, he may have stretched the truth about his workload. But it was too late for that and he didn’t want to disappoint his teacher… reluctantly, he bowed and answered, “Very well, Master…”

“Much appreciated, Arlen. I’ll take them back once the meeting adjourns. Bring them in, ladies!”

The bishop excused himself while the two clerics wheeled the children into Arlen’s office. At the princess’s behest they helped the twins transfer over to a sofa on the side wall before taking their leave as well. Once they were gone, Arlen returned to his desk and picked the tome he was reading back up.

Yuliya quickly grew bored. “Is that all you’re going to do?”

“Do I look like an entertainer to you?” he grumpily retorted.

“No, you look more like a party pooper.”

He rolled his eyes and didn’t bother with a reply. Jubelo tried a different question: “What are you reading Arlen?”

“Advanced thunder magic. With this knowledge I can command lightning rivaling the strongest storms, fierce enough to bring the most resilient-”

“Um…”

Arlen ceased his monologue upon hearing that nervous tone. He raised an eyebrow and tipped his book down, observing the twins’ disturbed expressions. “…Right, Master Wendell warned me you might be uncomfortable around magic. You probably don’t need to hear any more then.”

Jubelo rapidly shook his head, limbs huddled in tightly. Yuliya placed an arm around his shoulder and shot Arlen an irate stare. “Do you having anything else we can read to take our minds off it?”

“Sure. There’s more than magic in that bookcase,” he replied, gesturing to the shelves behind him while nonchalantly raising his tome. “Help yourselves.”

“Can you get one for us?”

He lowered his book again to see the princess swinging her legs and giving a wide, impatient shrug. Of course, they’re still not capable of walking… “…Fine.”

He rose from his seat, turned around and searched the bookcase for a selection they might accept. Eventually he settled on three: a book on Khadein’s history, a book about natural phenomena and a beginner’s astrology book. He piled them up and presented the stack to Yuliya. “Here.”

“Thank you sir,” Jubelo peeped while his sister accepted them without a word.

“If you need anything else or need a different book, speak up. Otherwise, keep quiet,” he instructed, returning to his seat and his studies.

Yuliya laid the three books out and glanced at Jubelo; he pointed to the history book. She set the other two aside, but before opening it she demanded, “Does this history book have anything on magic?”

“Only the most basic details. The bulk is covered in Old Magic and New Instruments, stay away from those chapters.”

She glanced back down at the cover, but then Arlen added, “Oh, and skip The White Sage’s Students. Trust me, you won’t like who it’s about.”

Jubelo offered a quick “Thank you” while Yuliya opened it to the table of contents. They examined the chapters, muttered a bit and settled on the first chapter: An Oasis of Magic. Although the chapter name gave them pause, they were relieved to learn that it focused on the city’s founding and principles.

It turned out to be an intriguing read. Apparently Khadein was dedicated not only to magic: it opened its doors to scholarship as a whole. This led them to the second book when they tired of history; it covered a wide range of concepts on the workings of the world. Some were fresh discoveries, while others were salvaged from the records of long-gone civilizations… several of these findings had gaps though, leaving riddles that remained only partially solved. Between the sheer length of time it held their attention and the mind-boggling abstraction of many concepts, it was a fascinating yet head-spinning read.

Still, what struck with them the most was Khadein’s mission back in the history book. Lord Gotoh founded this city on the principle that anyone could learn magic, regardless of background. This resonated strongly with their kingdom’s own principles… Archbishop Wendell was delighted to hear they enjoyed it that evening.

“Yes. Our founder asserted it as a duty we all share: It matters not what walk of life you rose from, or how you shall serve our kingdom. But serve it you shall,” Yuliya recited.

Wendell nodded. “A noble creed indeed, Princess. You must be very proud of your founder… King Ordwin, I recall?”

“That’s right. Ordwin von Grunia, the first King and Commander of Grust. He started as an Archanean nobleman and general and fought valiantly throughout the War of Liberation,” she exposited, a twinkle in her eyes. “For his service he was awarded lordship over Archanea’s westernmost territory. It used to be an island of warmongering tribes, but he brought them to heel and molded them into the finest knights on the continent!”

“Mhm! I’ve heard glowing tales of the Sable Order from all corners of Archanea! You must be proud to be part of his lineage.”

She grinned brightly and nodded. Her brother added, “He wasn’t just strong and brave either. He was very kind too!”

“That’s right. Unlike the barbaric conquest of Aurelis, General Ordwin didn’t trample his subjects,” Yuliya continued. “Most tribes were subdued by challenging their chieftain or strongest warriors. He was as merciful as he was victorious, sparing them in exchange for their fealty once he defeated them. Some made great strides under the new order… House Grunia and its knights made up the original nobility, but today most of us share blood with the natives.”

He also respected their culture… and the Manaketes too!” Jubelo chimed in. “Even though he fought a war against them, he didn’t hold a grudge. He recognized the Fane of Raman as their holy ground and granted them free passage to and from it. Why, he even tracked down three of the five spheres and returned them to its vaults!”

“Yes, that’s a tale Lord Gotoh was fond of. How thoughtful of him,” Wendell complimented. He neglected to mention the Archanean League’s raid of the Fane… sanctioned by the White Sage or not, it was best not to risk upsetting them.

“He set a fine example for future rulers as the first King and Commander… it is an example you must seek to follow, Jubelo!” his sister chided.

“Now now, Princess, no need to be so hard on him.”

“But he can’t be a weakling forever! He’s going to be our fifth king someday, and he can’t afford to be a disappointment…” Yuliya tilted her head down with a mixed look of sorrow and resentment. “N-not after the last king failed us…”

“Ah, I see… I have not heard the same flattering tales of your father.”

“Ludwik had no business being king. He was too cowardly to pick up a spear, let alone lead his knights… he couldn’t even protect us in our hour of need…” Jubelo tried to pat her on the shoulder, but she snatched his hand and glared at him. “You can’t fall into the same slouch as him!”

“Princess Yuliya, that’s enough! You’re frightening him!” Wendell scolded.

“Keep that up and you’ll leave him with even less spine,” Arlen commented from his chair in the corner.

“Oh, who asked you!”

“Princess, please! Arlen brings up a good point: you cannot browbeat your brother into conquering fear… all you’re doing is making him more afraid, of you no less,” Wendell lectured. “You two have only begun to recover from the ordeal of a lifetime. Have patience, show him compassion and he’ll improve.”

“But-” A stern shake of the head made it clear the bishop would not budge. Unable to make further headway, she tilted her head to the side, crossed her arms and shut her eyes in frustration.

“Calm yourself, Princess. I’m confident that with time, you’ll both mature into capable leaders,” he assured. “Thank you for your input, Arlen.”

“Of course, Master,” he mumbled, resuming his solitary lounge.

Wendell turned back to the twins and suggested, “Maybe we should talk about something else. Is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

Jubelo answered, “Yes. How did you come here? According to the history book, Khadein has no people of its own.”

“That is correct. Khadein is a free state with no nationality, its people all hail from preexisting nations… I happen to hail from Macedon,” he explained.

Yuliya quietly peeped an eye open. Her brother said, “So you’re from Princess Maria’s homeland.”

“Yes, although I predate the two princesses by a couple decades… in fact, I was around your age when Lord Gotoh founded this school. I heard about it from merchants; tales of incredible magics, a vast collection of knowledge… you could say I was enamored. I had little stomach for Macedon’s militaristic ways, so when the current king sought to draft students I eagerly volunteered!”

“Draft students?” Yuliya inquired. “You mean, send them to Khadein for a purpose? Grust’s king at the time did the same thing.”

“Most kingdoms saw the potential of magic to wage war. I considered it myself, and though I detest violence it was the chance of a lifetime… so I set aside my differences and accepted. My parents questioned the merits of my mission, but as I showed them what I learned they changed their tune. Why, they became quite proud of me!” he fondly recalled.

“So, after you brought magic back to Macedon… what then?” Jubelo asked.

“Once we provided proof of concept and established ties with Khadein, we had more freedom. Several of my peers remained in Macedon’s service, but I’d come to love the city. It exceeded my expectations… it was a place where we could all learn and coexist without our kingdoms’ borders dividing us. As the years went by I rose through its ranks, from teacher to full-fledged bishop… although leading the city as its archbishop was beyond my imagination.”

“Do you still maintain contact with Macedon?” Yuliya wondered.

“Of course! I made several friends who I kept contact with, and the King would occasionally summon us to share new developments… the last time was a few years ago under his son, the late King Osmond. I also pay visits to my village in Holm Coast when I need a vacation or to visit my parents, rest their souls.”

“And you name. I remember it being Roth, something…” She couldn’t remember it exactly.

“Rothfeder,” Arlen corrected.

“That! Rothfeder. Are you a Macedon noble, Archbishop?”

“No, I hail from the commonfolk. But esteemed bishops are recommended to take a surname, and I drew inspiration from my home kingdom in this regard. Roth as you might guess is a root word for red, after our red heraldry… and I used to have ginger hair in my youth,” he remarked with a chuckle. “Feder is a root for feather, as in the pegasi Macedon is famed for… I thought their gentle image suited me better than that of the mighty wyvern.”

“I suppose it suits you… Grunia comes from the root for ground, as in earth,” she explained in turn. “Those of House Grunia must be strong and provide a solid foundation for their subjects. The King and Commander must set a strong example…”

“Yes, Princess. It is only natural for good leadership to set a positive example… I’ve done it as a bishop and teacher, and as Archbishop that role has only grown,” he replied. “I’m certain you too will set strong examples when you are of age. You’ve already survived great hardship as it is… now, how about we send you to bed? You need ample sleep to regain your strength; today was only the start.”

“Uh, yeah… I’m…” Jubelo shook his head and uttered a big yawn. “I-I’m, starting to doze off…”

Yuliya let out her own yawn. “Mmm, all right Brother… but, first, we shall return to our wheelchairs. By ourselves.”

She slid off the sofa and onto her feet. Their wheelchairs were parked next to their seats, but the princess was still wobbly without support. Fortunately, Wendell had preemptively rose from his armchair and offered her a hand – something to hold onto and steady herself, nothing more. She looked displeased, but was too tired to protest, reluctantly accepting his arm to align herself with her chair. He then offered the same assistance to her brother, who to her satisfaction at least got to his feet unaided, just like she had.

At his teacher’s behest, Arlen rose to wheel the prince to bed while Wendell transported the princess.

Chapter Text

Yuliya and Jubelo continued to deliver promising results over the next couple days. Helen and Sarah were concerned when the princess insisted they practice twice a day, but their rapid progress assuaged worries. By the end of the second day they walked double the laps in one set; by the fourth, she completed a few without holding the rails! At this point Lord Wendell was confident to let them try walking about, albeit escorted – they could hold their own for short distances with a cane. Yuliya now complained about being treated like an old lady, but it was mellower than when she was confined to the wheelchair. Prince Jubelo also enjoyed the liberty of being able to move on his own.

It made their rehabilitation less dull too. They weren’t completely free – they couldn’t stray into heavily sunlit areas, the archbishop forbade them from traversing stairs, and the clerics were constantly on the tail with wheelchairs ready in case they tired. But it was far preferable to being stuck pacing back and forth between rails, or being carted all over the place. To her own chagrin, it was the princess who more often had to be seated… Yuliya was a bit too daring and tried lifting her cane a few times, only to stumble after a brief period. Jubelo fared better with a slow and steady approach; he seems to be learning by the example you set, Helen suggested. Oh, very funny, Miss Helen…

Now, the clerics helped them settle in the lounge after their morning activity. Tiring though it was, the twins were able to transfer themselves onto the sofa. Meanwhile, Sarah prepared two cups of cold tea while Helen brought them their books. They had made considerable progress into the history book and the day prior, at the archbishop’s suggestion, they began reading a novel. A little fiction breaks up the monotony of academic reading and can sometimes offer its own insight, he said.

Their reading would be put on hold when Arlen entered the room. “Master Wendell requests these two in the entrance hall. General Lorenz has returned for them.”

“He has!?” Yuliya excitedly hopped out of her seat, caught herself in a wobble and managed to land back in her wheelchair. Her brother transferred himself into his chair more slowly. “Forward!”

Arlen led the procession out of the residential quarters and to the entrance center before dismissing himself to tend to chores… it was laundry day and there was a guest bedroom to dismantle. It was a small administrative building close to the gates that was used to receive distinguished guests. The interior contained the three tiers separated by indoor moats, and in the central chamber waited the Archbishop and the General.

The twins were fidgety the whole trip, and upon seeing him their grins widened. “General Lorenz!”

Lorenz smiled brightly in turn and rose from his seat. “Prince Jubelo! Princess Yuliya! It’s good to see you both- Princess!”

Yuliya could not maintain her excitement any longer, leaping from her seat over Miss Helen’s objections. She made a few steps off her momentum before stumbling forward… fortunately, Wendell had moved to catch her by the shoulder and slow her fall. She held her face low in shame, only raising it when Lorenz knelt before her and gently tilted her chin up.

“It’s a pleasure to see you so rambunctious, Princess Yuliya, but please don’t strain yourself. It’s only been a week,” he said, not a trace of anger in his voice.

“…I’m sorry, Lorenz…” she labored to reply, her face red with embarrassment. Jubelo walked to her side with both canes while the General helped her to her feet, handing her cane to her. “I-I was, hoping I could, give you a better impression…”

“I understand Princess, but like I said, it’s only been a week. I didn’t expect a full recovery,” he assured.

“Neither did we. However, the twins have made great strides within the last week. At this pace they should outgrow their canes by the end of the next week,” Helen complimented.

“Wonderful! Thank you Miss Helen, I’m sure you and Miss Sarah have been a boon to the young Prince and Princess.” He then turned to Wendell and added, “And you as well, Archbishop! I can’t thank you enough for tending to them in their hour of need!”

Wendell bowed with a smile. “It’s my pleasure General. Khadein opens its doors to all in need. Now then, I take it Prince Marth was successful?”

“Yes, although I have more to say. Please, have a seat.”

Wooden benches lined the inner chamber’s walls and offered seating space, the twins settling for the east side seats while the clerics took the west seats. Wendell offered Lorenz the throne again but he declined, instead sitting between the Prince and Princess.

Once the archbishop was seated he announced, “To begin, I am happy to report that Dohlr is no more. Prince Marth slew the Shadow Dragon with the aid of the Divine Dragon Tiki, and what remained of the empire quickly dissolved. However, Grust’s reconstruction has a long way to go. With the King’s passing and most of our officer’s dead, our kingdom is nearly decapitated. Some survivors try to maintain order, but the lands are unstable… and, I regret to inform you, others have gone rogue, turning on our own people to survive.”

“What! How could they!? Those dishonorable, disrespectful, no-good…” Yuliya snarled.

“Yes Princess, those cravens were a blight upon Grust’s honor. But they also highlight the perils of our homeland. I fear it is unsafe for you to return home right now…” Lorenz glanced to the twins at his sides – both appeared crestfallen, anticipating what he was about to suggest. He then tilted his gaze to Wendell and request, “That is why I must ask, Archbishop: Can I entrust Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya to you for the foreseeable future?”

Wendell nodded. “I’d be honored to care for them, General, and Khadein can certainly accommodate them. But how do the Prince and Princess feel about it?”

Jubelo and Yuliya leaned forward to glance over Lorenz at one another. Yuliya appeared tense, just as her brother did; but her expression hardened after a few moments. You’re the Crown Prince here, you decide! Jubelo then looked up at Lorenz, silently waiting for an answer.

He took a deep breath and answered, “I… I agree with Lorenz. If Khadein is safer, we should stay here.”

“I appreciate your compliance, Prince. What about you, Princess?”

“If Prince Jubelo thinks it’s for the best, then, I’ll stay… even if I’d rather see Grust again,” she admitted.

Lorenz patted them on the shoulders. “Chin up Princess, someday you and the Prince will return to your kingdom. It will be a proud moment to capstone our recovery… in the meantime, I shall act as regent. Princess Nyna is aware of our dire situation and has graciously offered aid to Grust, and I’ll keep you up to date on our progress.”

“I’m glad you’ll be in charge, Lorenz. You’re strong, and kind, and have years of wisdom,” Jubelo said.

“I agree. With some subjects turning their backs on their oaths, I want it to be someone we know we can trust,” his sister concurred. “There’s something we need to address, though.”

“Yes, Princess?”

She gestured down her outfit with a look of disapproval. “These clothes are not acceptable for royalty. We ask that you provide us with more suitable outfits.” Helen quietly rolled her eyes.

Lorenz chuckled. “Of course, Princess! I shall see to it that the good bishop is educated on proper wardrobe for Grust’s royalty.”

She crossed her arms and returned a proud smile. “Good, see to it.”

Jubelo added, “Maybe you could send some things over? So we can make our room feel more like home.”

“Of course, Prince. I’ll prepare a package with personal wares and some materials to resume your studies once I return to Grust.”

“Good! Prince Jubelo and I need to continue our studies. We have a lot of time to make up for,” Yuliya commented.

“Yes, and you’ll have plenty of time to make it up here. But before I depart, I’d like to speak with the Archbishop in private, if you don’t mind.”

Helen rose and suggested, “I believe one of us should inform Arlen so that these two receive fresh linens. Will that be alright?”

“Yes, thank you Helen. I’ll help Sarah bring them back after General Lorenz departs. Will you be alright with them for a few minutes, Sarah?”

“Of course Archbishop, take your time.”

Wendell thanked Sarah and stood up, as did Lorenz. Helen already walked out and took the left; he led the general down the right to a hall around the back of the building. In a low voice Lorenz said, “Once again, I cannot stress how grateful I am for all your help, Archbishop. But you’ve heard several times now… how have the twins been while I was away?”

“They’ve been well, although I’ve received a few complaints from Helen about Princess Yuliya’s behavior. I had to scold her myself the other night… Prince Jubelo has been more mild-mannered, thankfully.” With a smile he then remarked, “You know, this is the most I’ve seen her smile yet, seeing you again!”

“Yes, that sounds like Princess Yuliya… she’s been the twins’ voice from a young age. They were born a month too early… there were complications and tragically, the Queen did not survive.”

“…I’m sorry to hear that, General.”

“The court bishops feared the Prince wouldn’t make it either. But Yuliya’s a fighter… she clung to her brother fervently, cried when anyone tried to separate them. Soon the Prince’s condition began to improve… the bishops believe her love helped him pull through, and so do I,” he recounted, pausing for a moment. “Beneath the surface however, she’s not too different from her brother. Please be patient with them, Archbishop.”

“I understand. Rest assured, I’m familiar with her type… I raised Arlen, after all.”

“Oh? Do tell,” Lorenz inquired with a smile. “I didn’t realize your apprentice was also your son.”

“Not by blood, mind you, I never took a wife. During my travels I often stopped at orphanages to share my experiences with the youths,” Wendell explained. “It was fourteen or fifteen years ago, at a priory in Kingdom Archanea’s countryside. While I was giving the children a demonstration I spotted a lone boy eyeing me from the hallway. I tracked him down afterwards and asked why he was all alone… he asked why I was talking to him, saying that no one cares. Apparently he was cold to the other children and staff, and they shunned him in turn.”

“Do you think he was abandoned by his parents?”

“Likely, sad as it is… anyway, since he found no love there, I offered to take him with me. He was stunned when I told him that! He didn’t think I was serious… well, I soon proved him wrong. I told the bishop in charge I wanted to take Arlen with me, and he made no objections. It took some time to get over the shock, but I think he was glad to leave that place behind.”

“And how did Arlen take to your care? He still seems very cold,” Lorenz confessed.

Wendell nodded solemnly. “I’m aware, General. He still has difficulty trusting others. But he’s improved, make no mistake… he may not show overt affection, but I can see it in his actions. Whatever I ask of him, he’ll do it faithfully; and while he lacks in natural talent, he’s cultivated his own gift for magic! I’m proud to see how he’s grown… although sometimes, I wish he got along with my other students. Sigh…”

“As long as you can ensure the twins are not harmed, I’ll trust your judgment, Archbishop,” he assured.

“Thank you, General Lorenz. I believe learning to coexist will be a good experience for all three of them.”

Arlen shifted items from the top of Master Wendell’s dresser to his bed, thoroughly wiping each with a cloth and setting it on the sheets. He’d dust the top of the dresser before returning them, then tend to the desk and finally the windowsill. Though he had his own room to clean afterwards – a task he entrusted to no one else – it wasn’t a big deal. As Khadein’s new archbishop, his teacher was busier than ever these days. He shouldn’t have to trouble himself with the labors of tidying his living space. Said space was rather tidy to begin with, with items neatly organized on the desk… Arlen made a mental note to maintain his own space better. Everything was always so orderly after cleaning, but he let it slip back into disarray by the next time.

It was only one more room, anyway. He unmade the twins’ bed and threw their sheets in with the rest, but that was the extent of his part. One of the clerics, or some other Khadeinian housekeeper, would take care of the rest later.

Judging by a knock on the door, it would be sooner than later. “Only the guest room. I’m tending Master Wendell’s myself,” he responded.

“Which rooms have clean sheets?” Helen’s voice inquired.

“Mine and Master Wendell’s.”

“Ah, thank you. Then only the twins’ needs them.”

Yes, only the- Arlen paused mid-thought. The twins’ bed? That was the guest room, and it was being vacated… why did it need clean sheets so soon? He set down the cloth, catching himself as he nearly set it on Master’s fresh linens, strode a room over and peered inside. There was the cleric, straightening out and tucking a fresh bottom sheet under the mattress corners.

She noticed him while stretching her back and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Why are you remaking the guest bed? We’re not supposed to have guests tonight.”

“Actually, Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya will remain in Khadein’s care for the time being.”

His neutral expression drooped. “…You’re joking, right.”

“If you need confirmation, you’re welcome to hear it from his lips,” she replied nonchalantly, returning to the housework.

Arlen hurried out of the residential quarters and sped towards the entrance hall. He slowed as he approached the front side of the building and stopped to peer around the corner. The Grustian general stood opposed to Master Wendell, Sarah and the young prince and princess, seated in their wheelchairs.

“You’ll receive my first letter with your package, but you may have to wait a little longer for wardrobe arrangements,” Lorenz warned. “I’ll see if I can arrange for a court tailor to visit Khadein. Regardless, securing our capital provinces is my highest priority… we shall see it plays out. Hopefully Archanea’s dispatch will speed up the process.”

“You have our blessings, General Lorenz. Take care of Grust while we’re unable to!” Yuliya requested.

“It will be done, milady. In the meantime, I ask that you be on your best behavior for the Archbishop.”

So she wasn’t joking… lovely.

“May your journey home be safe, General Lorenz,” Wendell bade.

“Yes! And stay safe when you get there too,” Jubelo pleaded.

Lorenz saluted and pledged, “On my honor as knight and regent, I’ll do all I can, Your Highnesses. May your stay here be safe and fruitful.”

They saluted him in kind. “Yes, sir!”

Arlen emerged from around the corner and approached the group as the General passed through the city gates. Wendell spotted him out of the corner of his eye and greet, “Ah, good timing Arlen! I take it Helen told you the news?”

Arlen replied, “Yes, Master Wendell… but are you sure about this? Would it be wise to commit Khadein’s resources so soon-”

“Now Arlen, I wouldn’t call them a burden. Despite the losses we’ve incurred we’re well-equipped to care for them, and with time they’ll be more capable of looking after themselves.”

“With how quickly they’re regaining their legs, that day might not be far off!” Sarah remarked.

“Yes. Helen even suggested that day might come within the next week!” Wendell added enthusiastically. “Now, if you could do me a favor and help Sarah bring them back to our quarters? I have to consult with one of our new teachers on the… expansion to our curriculum.”

“Yes, but… Master…”

“I know Arlen, you’re not used to having new faces around. But give it time and I’m sure you’ll warm up to each other,” he encouraged, starting towards the academic facilities. “You might even come to think of them as your younger siblings!”

Arlen stared blankly while his master waved to them. Once he was out of sight the mage turned around to Sarah and the twins. Jubelo offered him a hopeful smile in stark contrast to his sister’s deadpan, disinterested demeanor.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” he advised, rounding the Princess’s wheelchair to take its handles.

Yuliya shut her eyes and tilted her head down. “Hmph, it wouldn’t cross my mind. Jubelo is the only brother I’ll ever need!”

Jubelo’s smile faded in disappointment while Sarah sighed internally. Arlen being his usual self…

Archbishop Wendell Rothfeder – Nurturing Pontiff

The current archbishop of Khadein has been around nearly all of the city’s fifty-something year history. A youth disillusioned by Macedon’s warrior culture, Wendell was intrigued by Khadein’s inclusivity and its promise to revive the arcane arts. He soon became enamored with it, and with decades of dedication he became a well-respected bishop with a passion for teaching. With the city’s pontifices purged by the War of Shadows, leadership fell onto his shoulders. Prince Marth and Princess Nyna place a great deal of trust in him, as does its founder, the White Sage Gotoh.

Although Wendell never took a wife or sired children, he knows well the joys of parenting. During his travels he adopted a boy named Arlen, and despite some challenges he’s shaping up to be a promising successor! Being a teacher yields similar experiences, guiding his students through their development and forging lifelong friendships along the way. Now with Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya under his care, he’s delighted to go through the motions all over again! Armed with decades of wisdom, stalwart patience and a gentle personality, he’s confident these troubled children will shine once more. 

Arlen Rothfeder – Roiling Thunder

The Archbishop’s foremost apprentice has been called the Thundercloud of Khadein for good reason. Being an orphan from Archanea took a toll on his psyche from an early age: it’s left him cold, distrustful, and paranoid. There are no true friends in life, only enemies… that is the creed he has chosen to live by. Exceptions shall be made for Master Wendell, of course… the man took him in, trained him in magic and prizes him as his foremost apprentice, despite no particular gift in magic. For his sake, Arlen applies himself rigorously and has manifested an aptitude for thunder magic – fitting, given his attitude.

This has been problematic when it comes to the Archbishop’s other students… Arlen detests any hint that one might supersede him. Merric in particular is the prime target of his ire, being a favorite student and even earning the favor of a tome said to rival Archanea’s Regalia. And now he has to share his teacher’s attention with Grust’s heirs… still, he’ll bite his tongue and do his part if it’ll make Master Wendell happy. He’ll be dipped in hot oil before he considers them siblings, though.

Chapter Text

Walking normally didn’t even take half a week. In just more three days Yuliya could keep her balance without a cane, her brother discarding his just a day later. Running was still a challenge and they needed the handrails for stairs, but little by little they regained stamina. Relieved at this milestone, the princess began to relax and test her limits more conservatively – that was a relief to everyone!

Delighted by the twins’ progress, Wendell rewarded them with a tour of the facilities. Previously they had only glimpsed small sections of the school, being largely confined to Khadein’s residential areas. Now that they could move about on their own, he thought they should see more of the Oasis of Magic. He started their tour early, before the sun got too high in the sky, and tried to avoid routes through direct sunlight. A few minutes exposure the other day left them with light sunburn… once he was more confident in their walking progress he’d try to get them in the sun more, but it had to be gradual.

They were impressed by the sheer scale of the school and its facilities. Before they had been to its infirmary ward, a few offices, and a recreational chamber for exercising. Add to that the libraries, classrooms and all the hallways connecting them, and it became apparent how massive it was.

Currently they were exploring the greenhouse, an enclosed gardening space jutting out of the school’s northern face. The air was unusually warm and humid, and it supported a multitude of crops that would normally be unviable in such arid conditions. Shading suddenly increased as curtains began to unravel over the glass exterior, filtering out some of the light.

“We unfurl the shade covers mid-morning to limit the amount of sunlight during peak hours. Otherwise, it would get too hot in here,” he explained.

“Yeah, it’s already very warm in here,” Jubelo commented, wiping his brow.

“Shall we return to my office? We’ve been out and about all morning,” he suggested.

“Hah… yes. My brother and I could use a break,” Yuliya said with a sense of fatigue.

“All right. I think I’ve taxed you enough myself.” He led them out of the greenhouse and closed the door behind him, stopping to ensure it was sealed properly. “Mustn’t allow moisture to spill into the hallways, lest our whole school become a sweatshop!”

“How do you get this much water anyway? I know this is an oasis, but… where does it come from?” Jubelo inquired.

“I’m glad you asked. Most oases spring from groundwater, popping up in low points on land.”

“So it’s like a well?”

“Exactly! You can think of oases and springs as a natural form of well… in fact, we dug a few wells around this city to draw water from its course,” he elaborated while they traversed the halls. “Khadein sits at the southern reaches of the Marmothod. Unfavorable winds don’t push moist air far from the western ocean, and high mountains block clouds from the north. But the water these mountains collect makes its way deep into the ground, through rain or melting ice, and follows an underground river system that flow from highlands to low. The oasis pool right outside this city is one outlet, and there are a few other places where water wells up from the ground. The lost city of Thabes also tapped this mighty underground river.”

“If it’s affected by water from up north, is it reliable?” Yuliya wondered.

“Good question, Princess! The oasis has never dried up, but the water flow does change with the seasons. During the winter months it is at its weakest, and it becomes very difficult to pump water. But the summer months see very strong flow, to the point we can stockpile excess for the winter months.”

“Ah, so that’s how you’re able to afford water for those moats.”

“Yes, although I’ve never been a fan of such vanities. As Archbishop I considered ordering them torn down, but I doubt it would be well-received. Lord Gotoh has the final say, and most of the architecture was of his design,” he explained with a hint of dismay.

“What about the oasis itself? Do you ever take water from that?” Jubelo asked.

“Rarely. Most of it goes to the plants, and they form a productive system on their own.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Vegetation is divided into three layers: tall palms from the canopy, followed by shorter trees and finally a low-growing ground layer,” Wendell described. “The palms provide shade for both the lower plants and water rising off the oasis, bringing it back down to feed the plants. We obtain a variety of fruits and vegetables this way, and in return we provide manure from the few animals we keep. It’s a delicate system though, which is why we limit how much we take… in the winter months, its banks-”

“There you are, Master.”

Wendell ceased his monologue and looked forward to see Arlen approaching. “Ah, Arlen. Is there something that needs my attention?”

“Nothing urgent Master, but…” He looked away as he announced, “…Merric has returned. He’s waiting in your office.”

“Already? I didn’t think he’d be back so soon.”

“Neither did I, however-”

“There you are!”

He sighed as the blue-haired Talys princess dashed past him, with his colleague not far behind. “…it seems the twins have another guest.”

Caeda stopped short of them and remarked, “I was delighted when Arlen said you were already walking again! You two look so much better than when I last saw you!”

“W-we feel a lot better, Princess Caeda,” Yuliya replied, slightly taken aback by her exuberance. “It beats being coddled in a wheelchair all the time.”

“I’m sure it does.” She then bowed to the archbishop and stated, “On both Talys’s and my behalf, thank you for all you’ve done for the twins, Archbishop Wendell. King Mostyn was elated to hear they’re safe and sound.”

“My pleasure, Princess. It’s been a joy to be able to help them!” He then spotted his other pupil trying to catch up with Arlen, only for the latter to constantly turn away. “Merric, why don’t you come meet our new charges?”

“Oh, of course!” The young man with vibrant green hair, a deep blue cloak and a warm, friendly smile stepped next to Caeda and took a bow. “I’m Merric, of Altea’s House Derwish. Princess Caeda told me about you on the way here… I’m glad to hear Master Wendell got you out of those horrid conditions!”

Jubelo answered, “We’re, glad to be out of them too… it’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Prince, Princess.” A thought then occurred to him and he asked, “Say, Master Wendell. Have you considered teaching them a bit of magic while they’re in your care?”

Wendell cautioned, “Merric, I don’t believe now-”

“You’d be amazed at what you can accomplish! I’ve learned so much through my studies! Why…” Merric raised a hand to Caeda as she tried to intervene. Then he clapped both hands together, muttered a quick spell and spread them apart, conjuring a small whirlwind between them. “See? This… huh?”

Merric was shocked to see the twins’ reaction. He had hoped they would be marveling in curiosity… instead, they were huddling in fear behind Master Wendell. Arlen swatted his hands sharply and chided, “Merric! These children were held prisoner by dark mages! Did it ever occur to you that-”

“Arlen, please! Mind your temper… he’s right though, Merric. I suspected they might’ve had bad experiences with magic; as you can see it’s a sensitive subject right now.”

“O-oh… I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Caeda stopped him. “Merric, it might be best if you left them be for now.”

“Yes, please give them some time to recover. Arlen, could you show our guests to their rooms?” Wendell then turned and knelt before the shuddering twins. “There there, Merric meant you no harm…”

“Yes, Master Wendell… come along,” Arlen requested, leading them back down the halls. Caeda was lightly chastising Merric over his error; he mumbled, “Good grief, Merric...”

“Hey. For all his faults, you don’t sound much better,” she snapped back.

“I didn’t ask for sass, Talys Princess.”

“Well, you’re gonna get it if you don’t keep your comments to yourse-”

“Settle down friends, please… we all know I made some mistakes, no need to start a fight over it,” Merric urged, trying to defuse the situation. It ended their argument but that was all the headway he made – neither was in the mood to strike up friendly conversation.

Caeda elected to stay the night to catch up with the twins. They had little to share on their end, but she was happy to hear how their recovery was going. On the other hand, she had a multitude of tales to tell: how Talys accommodated Altea’s exiles, her travels with Prince Marth and the Archanean League, how she coerced several soldiers to their cause, and her recent betrothal to said prince. Yuliya and Jubelo listened intently, sitting side-by-side on their bed while Talys’s princess, dressed in simple red nightclothes, wove the story of her adventures.

“So while our knights returned to Altea, Prince Marth, Princess Elice, Merric and I went to visit my father to tell him the good news. Merric was anxious to return to Khadein, and it gave me an excuse to check up on you,” she concluded. “And that’s what I’ve been up to these last three years. Any questions?”

“So, Prince Marth is your betrothed…” Yuliya mulled.

“Yes, that’s what I said. Is something bothering you, Yuliya?”

“Well, he sounds nice enough, but… you said he was the one that led the Archanean League against Grust. I don’t know if… if…”

“I understand. You hold him responsible for the losses in Grustian leadership.” She and her brother silently nodded. “Would you be willing to give Merric another chance? He knew Marth from an earlier age and can vouch for him.”

“I-is he going to cast magic again?” Jubelo warily asked.

“No, and I’ll make that clear that he behaves himself this time. Wait here.”

Caeda rose from her seat, walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. A minute or two later she opened it again, leading the wind mage in carrying another chair and a guilty expression. As he sat it down next to hers she demanded, “Now Merric, what do you have to say?”

“Um, right… I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. Prince Marth and Princess Elice warned me about getting carried away… sometimes I get so lost in my own passions that I forget to consider what others might think,” he explained.

“You don’t say.”

“Y-yeah, guilty as charged, Princess… no more magic demonstrations, I promise. Now then, you wanted to know more about Prince Marth?”

“Yes. Is he really as nice as Princess Caeda claims he is?”

“Oh, absolutely! Prince Marth and Princess Elice are the kindest people I know! They’re the closest I’ve known to siblings… I was surprised to see how much Marth changed when we reunited in the lea! He seemed bolder and more forthcoming… yet in private, I saw the sadness it had been borne from.” Merric appeared saddened himself as he recalled it. “He really is the same gentle and compassionate soul I once knew, but the loss of his kingdom and family was a heavy burden. All that anger and sorrow had to let itself out somehow…”

“Did Prince Marth ever… hate us? Or, Grust?” Jubelo questioned.

“I wouldn’t say he hated you… I don’t think he was aware of your situation…”

Caeda interjected, “He doesn’t know yet, I’ll tell him after I return to Altea.”

“Thank you, Princess Caeda… anyway, he definitely held some hatred towards his enemies, especially Gra. Most of our knights shared enmity on that front over their betrayal,” he elaborated. “But like I said, that was mostly out of circumstance. I don’t think he hated any person so much as the army that stood in his way… in fact, he and Princess Nyna tried to reason with General Camus first! If the General stood down I’m sure they would set aside their differences-”

“But with Grust’s heirs held hostage he had no choice but to fight, lest Dolhr end the royal bloodline then and there.” Caeda then turned back to the twins. “Isn’t that right?”

“Um… yes, that’s right,” Yuliya confirmed. She and Jubelo tilted their gazes down to their laps in humiliation and guilt.

“It’s not your fault. You were too young to protect yourselves. Nor was it General Camus’s for having to lay down his life,” she assured. “But I hope you can understand that the blame does not lie with Prince Marth either. Outside forces conspired for them to-”

“Gharnef,” Yuliya grumbled bitterly.

“Yes, Gharnef. He’s been responsible for most of our woes these last few years, one way or another.”

“My friend Linde lost her father, Pontifex Miloah to that monster. Prince Marth also suffered greatly from his schemes… he incited Gra’s betrayal of Altea, taking King Cornelius not long after, Queen Liza. And then he had the gall to take Princess Elice as a prisoner…” Merric added with simmering fury.

“And let’s not forget Tiki’s brainwashing, the fracturing of Macedon royal family, the purge of Archanea’s royal family and the revival of Medeus that led to it all… like I said, one way or another,” she reiterated. “Still, I can’t name anyone who’s suffered more than you two.”

“Master Wendell did us all a favor ridding the world of that fiend.”

“He did? …Oh, now I remember.” That detail had gotten lost in the avalanche of new stimuli after spending three years in total darkness; but Merric’s words jogged the princess’s memory. “General Lorenz said he used a special tome…”

“Yes, Starlight. A powerful tome forged from the Starsphere and the Lightsphere, it’s the only magic-”

“The Starsphere and the Lightsphere? Those were sealed away in… are you telling me you looted the Fane of Raman!?”

“Well, no but, um… Caeda?”

“Forgive us, it had to be done. Lord Gotoh himself gave us that directive, and it was the only magic capable of overcoming Gharnef’s magic.”

Yuliya’s anger subsided. “Oh… then, if you hadn’t, then… I suppose you can be forgiven for it.”

“I understand,” Jubelo replied. “So… you were saying, Merric?”

“Starlight is the only spell capable of breaking through Imhullu’s foul protection. Without it, any attack would be withered to nothing, and under the power of a magical apparatus the tome would never exhaust. We weren’t aware of this until we were storming his lair, it was a last-minute discovery,” Merric explained. “But even with another way, none of us wanted to grant him quarter. Master Wendell accepted the task due to his experience, and he felt he needed to set an example on Khadein’s behalf… and I’m sure he had you in the back of his mind too.”

A small smile crept up Jubelo’s face, and a smaller smile yet across his sister’s.

“Linde and I would have readily accepted the task if need be, but I’m satisfied with how it played out. It was like a breath of fresh air to reunite with Princess Elice, unharmed after all these years…”

“It sounds like you really care about them,” Jubelo commented.

“Oh, yes! Of course! Prince Marth is like a brother to me, and Princess Elice is… well…”

He and Yuliya were confused at his sudden hesitation, exchanging glances while he fumbled for an adequate segue. His cheeks went noticeably red and Caeda appeared to be withholding a snicker.

“I’d, um… we’ll call her a very close friend and leave it at that,” he finally spoke in a hurried tempo. “All you need to know is, they were my pillars of support. I was fortunate enough to be born within a month of the Prince, so I was introduced to him at a young age. It was more than likely to reaffirm house loyalties, but I’m grateful for it whatever my parents’ intent… to tell you the truth, I felt more at home living at Anri with the Prince.”

“You didn’t like your parents?” Jubelo asked.

“I wouldn’t say I hate them but, our interests were never aligned. House Derwish has always been a strong proponent of the knighthood, and I was expected to become a knight myself. But I was more interested in reading books and, well, I used to have a weak constitution.” He blushed again while confessing, “When I was a child I fell ill more frequently than other boys my age… Princess Elice often nursed me back to health.”

Jubelo felt a bit of sympathy towards Merric. His sister however seemed unimpressed.

“But they were always encouraging! Marth had difficulties with his father’s own teachings, so I had a kindred spirit in him. He never judged me for my fascination with Khadein and the marvels of magic. And Elice… she was training in the clerical arts, and that inspired me further!” he exclaimed, regaining his previous vigor. “When I decided I wanted to study abroad I had their backing, and for their sake I made all I can of my studies. Sometimes I impress even myself with how far I’ve come… to think the Excalibur spell would choose me as its wielder!”

“They stood up for you where your parents failed? Then I… I suppose Prince Marth isn’t the person I feared,” Yuliya conceded.

“If he were a conquering tyrant we would not be engaged,” Caeda assured. “You’ll meet him in person someday, but I’m glad we were able to draw a better impression of him tonight. Thank you for your input, Merric.”

“Any time, Princess Caeda. But before I go, I’d like to ask something,” he requested, facing the twins again. “I know this is a sensitive question, but what gave you such a strong fear of magic?”

“…Sometimes when the guards opened our cell, they’d light a fireball or… arc lightning between their…” Jubelo had trouble completing his answer, tucking his legs in and shivering as the awful memories flooded back in. Yuliya huddled closely and glared back at Merric.

“Oh… I’m so sorry about earlier, then. I never meant to threaten you… in fact, I thought it might pique your interest. As someone who grew up rather feeble, I found magic very empowering!”

Feeble? Empowering? These two words resonated with the twins.

“It gave me a way to repay Prince Marth and Princess Elice’s kindness… I could protect them just like they once protected me! Even if I can’t match Altea’s knights in physical strength – at all, really – I was fighting alongside them by flexing my magical muscle!”

“Let me put it into perspective: I have deft hands with a spear, but I could never beat any of Altea’s knights at arm wrestling. Against him? I win every time,” Caeda quipped, coupled with an embarrassed nod from Merric.

“I-I think we’ve said enough about me tonight. As one of Master Wendell’s top students, I’m bound to see you again in the coming days. Have a good night, Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya.”

Jubelo gave him a small wave as he scooped up his chair and made his way out. Caeda closed the door behind him and returned to her seat. “See? He’s not so bad after all, right?”

“No, he’s not. He should be a little more careful, though,” Yuliya commented. Her brother nodded in agreement.

She sighed, “Yes, I’ve seen it plenty of times… Merric can be exasperating. Still, I want to echo his sentiment: you are staying at the magic capital of Archanea. You might find you have a talent for it, and at least understanding it will help you overcome your fears.”

“Um… maybe…”

“Take your time. You’ll be here for a while, and I’m sure Lord Wendell will be accommodating. You told me you read a few books on Khadein, did it interest you?”

“We liked reading about its history and the things they learn here,” Jubelo replied.

“Yes, those are pretty fascinating, even if they’re hard to fully understand… we also read about the principles Khadein stands for, and some of them stuck with us.”

Caeda smiled. “See? You’re already warming up to this place. Give it time and you might find that magic isn’t so bad… take it slowly.”

“Y-yeah, slowly…”

“If you ever feel the need to write, Merric knows the address. I ask him to keep me updated on you before I leave too. We’ll be much closer than before the war, but Father would like to know too… I’ll make sure he hears about how you’re doing,” Caeda promised.

“Thanks Caeda. We appreciate you and King Mostyn looking out for us… but you should know, we’re more capable than we used to be.” Yuliya hopped to her feet and paraded around the bedroom. “We can already walk again, and we’re learning more than we ever imagined! We don’t need to be coddled like children anymore!”

“Yeah, we can do more on our own now! At least, we can do some things… um, sorry Sister…” His remarks earned him an annoyed glance.

“Heehee! I can see that, Yuliya.”

Merric Derwish – Mirthful Breeze

Compared to his stormy peer, Merric’s more of a gentle breeze… with the occasional bluster here and there. A minor noble from Altea, Merric was fascinated with tales of magic from childhood, longing to study at the Oasis of Magic. This strained relations with his parents… House Derwish was a longtime supporter of Altea’s knights and they weren’t pleased with his disinterest in martial pursuits. Fortunately, he found a second family… being the same age as Prince Marth, Merric was raised as a close companion to him and his older sister, Princess Elice. They always supported Merric’s dreams, and at age ten he finally had the chance to study at Khadein!

As a fledgling mage he threw himself into the city’s way of life, and his sheer passion even won over the Excalibur spell! Though it is rare for one so young to master such potent magic, certain spells have been known to resonate with casters and offer their might with great ease. Still, he has to be careful with it… Merric can get carried away with his passions. Sometimes he doesn’t read the room, or he casts a spell too recklessly… Master Wendell is grateful he hasn’t blown himself up yet. Arlen’s given him more than one earful about it too; and with the Grust’s prince and princess around, he better behave himself.

Princess Caeda Talys – Skyward Seraph

Hailing from the island kingdom of Talys to the east, Caeda is not your average princess. In fact, you might not even realize she’s a princess at first glance – she’s usually seen in her armor or common garb. The darling smile and polite, humble attitude also throw many for a loop. But behind her gentle exterior lies a rapier wit… even from an early age she’s used her charms to sway people’s hearts! She knows what she can get away with and has no qualms dirtying her hands to do it. Thankfully her kindness is genuine, and as Prince Marth’s betrothed she’ll have a similarly pure king to keep her anchored. I’d stay on her good side if I were you, though.

Talys’s history is not that different from Grust’s; roughly forty years ago it was an uncivilized land ruled by warring clans. Seeking to end the constant strife, a young man named Mostyn set forth to unite them. To that end, he petitioned for aid… someone who might recognize and support their newfound sovereignty. He found allies in Altea’s Prince Cornelius and the young General Lorenz of Grust. With their backing Mostyn brought the other clans under his banner, and thus the Talys clan grew into the Kingdom of Talys. Ruling this kingdom was a delicate balancing act maintained not by violence, but by careful planning and thoughtful words… lessons the king did well to impart on his daughter, Caeda.

Grust’s heavy hand in the rise of Talys has resulted in close ties between the kingdoms. As such, Caeda’s been something of a godsister to the twins… she’s known them from an early age and tries to set them on the right path. With how far their lives have been knocked off course, her helping hand is welcome.

Chapter Text

Yuliya and Jubelo continued adapting to life in Khadein with fresh leg strength. To give the restless children more leeway, Archbishop Wendell introduced them to a lotion made from plant extracts. Although the oily film felt unpleasant to apply and sticky to the touch, it allowed them to spend longer under the unyielding sun that beat down on the desert. Getting more sun was good for them; it filled them with energy and gradually tinted their pale skin back to a natural peachy hue. They still had to respect their limits, as too much exposure would burn even through the sunscreen… not to mention that under the heat, they might sweat it off.

It allowed them to expand their borders though. Miss Helen and Miss Sarah had largely returned to their original duties, no longer needed when the twin could independently move about their quarters. Now it was Lord Wendell who escorted them outside their normal boundaries, or delegated them to Arlen when he was busy.

Merric was another new presence who frequently stopped by to say hello or tag along. He carried the same friendly air as before, but at times he could be overbearing. Arlen’s sour attitude became a welcome presence as a counterbalance to the wind mage’s jubilance.

“I love coming out here when I want a breath of fresh air,” Merric spoke of the oasis, which he and Arlen toured them around. “Can you feel it? The cool, moist breeze that wafts over the pool? It’s refreshing to have it wash across your face.”

“Mhm. I feel it,” Jubelo replied. Though the air was calm, it was undeniably more humid than in the city.

“It’s not always windy – in fact, at this time of day it’s usually still. But I can always conjure my own breeze to get the same effect-”

Arlen growled, “Merric…”

“…but I’ll refrain if it makes you feel better,” he continued, heeding his glaring peer. An idea formed however, and he suggested, “But maybe you could close your eyes? I won’t make much noise and it shouldn’t feel any different from a normal breeze. What do you say?”

Jubelo turned his head to his sister, who looked nervous but voiced no objection. He gave her a gentle smile and a nod; with his approval she answered, “All right, we’ll… we’ll give it a try.”

“Great! Now close your eyes…”

Yuliya’s hand tightly coiled around his, which started to make him tense. Their worries were soon quelled; just as Merric promised a cool, damp breeze splashed against their faces. It felt like any ordinary wind… his sister’s grip relaxed as it calmed their nerves. Upon opening his eyes he smiled and said, “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You see? Magic is more than just a tool of war; it can be put to more mundane or beneficial purposes! Khadein has a number of research facilities looking to find new uses for magic. Isn’t that right Arlen?”

“Correct. Down by the harbor we are working on a process to purify seawater by evaporating it. And some thunder mages believe lightning’s energy can be harnessed as a power source,” he explained.

“Do you do any of that, Merric?”

“No, I’m more invested in the fundamentals of magic right now. I might look into it in the future, though. Wind magic is bound to have other applications… why, I helped drive our ship to and from Talys by blowing gusts into the sails!”

“After nearly capsizing the boat.”

“It wasn’t that bad, Arlen! … Okay, maybe I blasted the sails a bit too intensely at first,” he admitted.

“You talk of wind magic a lot. Is that your specialty?” Yuliya asked.

“That it is, Princess! We all have our specialty among the three basic elements of fire, thunder and wind. Arlen’s is thunder. There are two other elements, light and dark…”

“Those are tied more to disciplines you choose to study. They don’t manifest as natural affinities.”

“Not true! Linde has an affinity for light magic, as did her father!”

“I meant they don’t normally manifest, Merric. There are exceptions,” Arlen corrected.

“Exceptions, huh? … Say, Merric. You said you have a special spell that chose you?”

“Right here, Princess!” He reached into his bookbag and drew an ornate bluish green tome with gold trim. Its cover bore a faceplate that resembled a ship’s anchor. “This is the Excalibur tome. It’s the ultimate spell among known wind magic! Only the most seasoned wind mages can wield it, and only men for some reason… and yet, the spell chose me as its wielder despite my relative inexperience!”

“Really? Why?”

“That’s a question I’d love to answer, Prince Jubelo. Apparently, some tomes have a will of their own and can bond with a user if it suits their personality,” he exposited. “I don’t really know what it saw in me, but can you imagine my face when it did?”

“It wasn’t your sense of restraint, that’s for sure,” Arlen grumbled.

“…You’re not still mad about the accidental haircut? I told you I was sorry, Arlen! And I don’t recall taking that much off…”

He turned his back to the wind mage. “Hmph. Sure you didn’t.”

That was something else that quickly became apparent. Merric and Wendell were mutually amicable and maintained a friendly attitude toward Arlen. But while he returned a clear sense of reverence to his teacher, he showed no warmth to his peer. And yet he frequently brought Merric up, usually to make an unflattering comparison, or mumbling something about the mage under his breath. Some of those words didn’t exactly sound nice… still, if he didn’t like the guy, why talk about him so much? It was a behavior the twins found confusing.

A few days later, the package General Lorenz promised them arrived. It contained a few trinkets from their childhood, a matching pair of royal amulets, and an assortment of books on Grustian law, history and court etiquette. He had little to report beyond assembling militias to bring their territories back under their fold, and was still in the midst of arranging for a tailor.

Nevertheless, this package was a good start, particularly the literature he had enclosed. Yuliya threw herself into their new books, skimming them to pinpoint crucial sections and then walking her brother through them in depth. Jubelo wished she would slow down… it was hard to absorb in such short time. Archbishop Wendell also tried to coax her into a more relaxed pace, with limited results. He has to know this by heart, she insisted, he can’t afford to be an absent-minded ruler.

It was hard to concentrate with everything else going on. The prince’s eyes and mind drifted towards the window while his sister reviewed a passage on table manners. Golden sand shimmering beneath a clear blue sky, a network of shallower paths through the dunes… it was a sight to behold. Small patches of green stood out in the distance; silhouettes of birds and pegasi against the sky… pegasi?

Jubelo jumped to his feet and looked out the window. There was indeed a pegasus rider, a head of blue atop a white steed… Caeda? No, it couldn’t be her – the hair was too short and her armor was white and blue. Besides, she left for Altea several days ago.

Yuliya raised her gaze from the book and inquired, “What are you looking at, Jubelo?”

“I, I saw a pegasus rider. I thought it was Princess Caeda but, looking closer…”

“Never mind her, we’re in the middle of our study session. Now come over here,” she ordered. Once he sat back down she pointed to a page with dining arrangements. “You see how the utensils are arranged? Forks on the left, spoons and knives on the right, all parallel. Glass in the upper-right. We need to remember that at suppertime.”

“Um, yeah… there’s an awful lot though. Extra utensils, plates-”

“Yes, Lord Wendell doesn’t provide them all, but we’ll make due with what we have. Practicing the basics will make it easier once we return to court dining.”

Knocks rang against their door. “Princess Yuliya? Prince Jubelo?”

“What is it, Merric? We’re in the midst of a study session.”

“I have a friend here who’s anxious to see you!”

“Yuliya? Jubelo?” a familiar voice called.

The twins perked up. “Princess Maria?”

A small red-haired girl about their age curiously cracked open the door and peered inside. She let out an excited gasp, thrust it open and sprang into the room. “It’s been so long since we last saw each other! You two are looking well considering… um…”

“W-we can talk about that later,” Yuliya interrupted.

“I take it you’re well-acquainted, Princess Maria?”

“Of course we are! Grust and Macedon have been close allies since their founding, it’s only natural its royals know their of-age peers,” she pretentiously explained.

“Ehe, right, Princess Yuliya… pardon the interruption.”

Merric closed the door behind him and left the young royals to themselves. Maria chided, “Yuliya, you didn’t need to be so harsh to Merric.”

“Well, he interrupted our study session. We have a lot of time to make up!”

“Yeah… so, what about you? I take it Lord Wendell told you about us?” Jubelo inquired.

Maria’s expression sank. “Mhm. I’m really sorry you had to go through that. My last three years weren’t good either, but… i-it doesn’t compare to you.”

Yuliya’s eyes widened. “What happened to you? We heard Prince Marth led his army to Macedon, and… um…” Maria’s downcast glance to the side left her uncomfortable to finish…

“I know… for as long as I could remember, Michalis only grew more bitter towards our father. Minerva and I didn’t think anything would happen… he, he was always so nice to us.” Maria fought back tears as she continued. “Sniff… W-we didn’t think he would actually kill Father and… and…”

“Y-you can stop now, Maria,” Jubelo said, inviting her to sit between them. Yuliya quietly slipped a bookmark into their book, set it aside and set about to helping him console the crying princess.

“Hah… hah… thanks Jubelo. I… I’ll be alright.” She took a minute to recollect herself before resuming. “After that… he, he tricked me into becoming a hostage to keep Minerva in line, and allied with Dolhr. Then, after Prince Marth rescued me, we followed him and… well… Minerva insisted on striking him down.”

Yuliya wore a look of disgust. “He would turn against you like that!? How could he!”

“Well, it… mainly started as a disagreement with Father over policy and-”

“Oh, right…” She vaguely remembered musings from her childhood about King Osmond’s unpopularity – how he had been called an Archanean bootlicker. “That explains a lot.”

“Yuliya!” her brother snapped.

“What? It’s true! King Osmond was too quick to empty his pockets for Archanea! He betrayed his own kingdom’s trust!” She crossed her arms and glared to the side. “Just as Ludwik betrayed us to Gharnef…”

“Yes, Gharnef… that’s a name I’m loath to hear.”

The malice in Maria’s voice surprised her. Jubelo was equally shocked… it wasn’t like Maria to sound so hateful.

“Gharnef’s the one who pushed Michalis over the tipping point. If not for him, maybe we could have resolved this more peacefully,” she explained bitterly. “I, I’m trying to see everyone’s side to this, they all had good intentions… but there is nothing good to say about that monster. The world’s better off without him!”

Yuliya and even Jubelo found themselves nodding along with her. Yuliya then asked, “So, what brings you here now?”

“Michalis suggested I take up clerical training shortly before… that all started. I heard good things about Lady Lena’s work, so I agreed to take up the staff,” she answered, her mood lightening again. “I aided Prince Marth during the war and want I to continue training, so Minerva sent me to Khadein to study! I think she also wanted me out of the way while settling things in Macedon… and, well, with the blood on her hands I’d like some time apart too.”

“So you’re here to learn magic?”

“Exactly! That’s what Khadein was founded for! …Say, have you thought about it too? We can be study buddies!”

“Yeah, um… w-we don’t know about that…” Jubelo replied, his sister appearing equally unsettled.

“Oh? It’s not so scary when you get to know it… in fact, healing magic isn’t scary at all! You could do a lot of good for your kingdom with it!”

“You think so?”

“Sure! Miss Lena and I brought more people back from the brink of death than I can count! And if you took up tomes, you can fight back if anyone tries to wrong you again!”

Yuliya peered over Maria to her brother, who returned the glance. He still appeared unsure, but she was starting to feel more convinced. It’d be great if they could aid General Lorenz when they returned to Grust, and being able to fight back sounded very tempting too.

“Give it a chance. You might have a knack for it!”

When Archbishop Wendell came to check up on them around lunchtime, Yuliya announced their intention to consider studying the magical arts. He was pleased with their decision and cleared his early afternoon schedule for them. He brought them to his office, joined by Arlen and Maria; Merric also wanted to attend but Arlen and Yuliya objected. Wendell sided with them and politely shooed the wind mage out.

On his desk he placed a scroll and a mortar, pouring a viscous blue serum into the latter. He added a powder and mixed it until it thickened and hardened into a sort of wax. “This test will gauge your magical aptitude. Anyone can become a great mage if they apply themselves, but we are not all created equal… some take to it better than others, and even twins might differ in their abilities. Now, who would like to try first?”

Yuliya knew her brother wouldn’t volunteer, and rather than push him, she stepped forward and sat opposite the archbishop. Jubelo watched cautiously from the side.

“Take the vessel in your hands and read the incantation from the scroll. A candlelight will form… don’t be alarmed, it’s a natural part of the procedure,” Wendell instructed.

She accepted the mortar and took a deep breath. Wendell opened the scroll and set it down before her; she scanned the text and recited, “Eye of the divine, I bear to thee my spirit. Let it shine brightly and burn with the warmth of my will.”

A glow began to form above the wax’s surface halfway through, and with her final words it flickered and ignited into a gentle flame. Yuliya’s hands began shaking when she saw the fire, but Wendell quickly pulled it away and blew it out.

“Not bad. You appear to have an average talent, Princess Yuliya – better than some, but not out of the ordinary for students,” he deduced, speaking from countless time he’s overseen this test. “Step on up, Prince Jubelo. It’s your turn now.”

Jubelo took the seat his sister vacated and accepted the vessel, albeit with signs of unease. It’s alright, Yuliya got through this just fine… you’re probably average too, at best, he told himself as he worked up the courage. He closed his eyes and spoke, “Eye of the divine… I bear to thee my spirit…”

The results were very different, however. He wasn’t even past the first verse when the flame took shape, flickering more erratically. To his sister and Princess Maria it was surprising… to Arlen and the Archbishop, it was alarming.

“Let it shine brightly and burn… with the warmth… of…” The heat radiating igave him pause, and he peeped with one eye… both shot right open when he saw the flame. “Ah, AAAH!”

“I got it Prince!” Wendell shouted, hastily snatching the vessel away and repeatedly blowing on it. It took several puffs to extinguish the flame.

Had his sister and Maria not caught him Jubelo might have fallen back in his seat. He was trembling, stuttering with fright. “Wha- what… w-why did it… d-did I something wrong? Or, was it telling me…?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it…” Arlen mused. “Master Wendell?”

“Yes, it was unusually strong… I don’t remember the last time I saw one burn that bright.”

“Huh? Then, then I…”

“You did nothing wrong, Prince Jubelo. But it appears you have a remarkable gift for magic.”

He didn’t know what to make of it. “I, I… I do?”

“He really has that kind of talent?” Yuliya grabbed his hand, stared him in the eye and declared, “Well, you cannot let this talent go to waste! We’ll start our lessons tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow!? But, I, that’s-”

“No buts! You’re to be Grust’s next king, and you have to be strong for their sake, no matter how!”

“Yuliya…” Maria interjected, easing her back and facing the prince herself. “Think of it this way Jubelo: once you learn to control this power you won’t have anything to fear of it!”

Arlen nodded. “It’d be a fool’s errand to let such talent lie.”

“Easy, Prince. The road to sorcery is long and difficult, but you won’t be tackling the most arduous steps until you have a handle on it. We’ll take it slowly, and with patience I’m sure you’ll make good use of your abilities,” Wendell encouraged.

Prince Jubelo wasn’t so sure, though. Him, wielding such potent magic? Him?! Seeing that flame brought flashbacks to his time in captivity… painful flashbacks of fireballs being hurled haphazardly into their cell. A brief, scorching light that broke the perpetual darkness, short-lived as it would soon die out along with his sister’s futile retorts. He didn’t know if he had it in him… if he could just seal it away he would feel so much better.

Princess Maria Ionia Medon – Cheerful Cherub

The youngest member of Macedon’s family by over a decade, one might think little of Maria’s cheerful expression and innocent daughter. Yet behind that smile is someone who’s seen well beyond her years, her beloved family fracturing before her eyes with little she could do about it. She’s had a lot to reflect upon, and though she loves her siblings dearly she can’t help but disagree with both of them. Michalis was wrong to slay their father and use her as a hostage, but why did Minerva have to strike him down? Still, she doesn’t want to trouble her sister, so she ponders over their philosophies in secret.

Queen Minerva has her hands full reorganizing the kingdom, and in the interest of keeping her safe Maria’s been sent to Khadein to study abroad. Despite having to part ways for a while, Maria relishes the opportunity to learn something she can bring back to Macedon… and to catch up with some friends! It’s been years since she last saw Grust’s young prince and princess!

Chapter Text

To the prince’s great relief their first lessons wouldn’t involve magic – instead, they were merely lectures on the theory and principles behind it. Jubelo was glad to see the only fire was illustrations in books… Yuliya insisted that he take up black magic, which embodied the offensive spells channeled through tomes. He wasn’t up to conjuring a flame in the palm of his hand when he could barely look at one in another’s. Some of the texts were complicated and the ancient language was downright foreign, but Archbishop Wendell did a fantastic job explaining the snags away, and he was slowly putting the pieces together. Maybe this was what he needed… maybe a better understanding would grant him the confidence to be a practitioner.

Now if only the archbishop was his sole teacher… unfortunately he had other duties to attend and insisted his senior students take this opportunity to garner experience. Although Jubelo had nothing against Arlen or Merric they were less effective tutors, and it was more than just a lack of experience. Arlen’s distaste for his peer became a frequent distraction as he nitpicked every little mistake and misconception. Meanwhile, Merric was a bit too eager to lend a hand… the prince was grateful for Arlen telling him to back off, brusque as he was about it.

“What you see here is a basic concept of elemental magic, the Anima Trinity,” Arlen explained while drawing on a chalkboard. He meticulously traced three straight lines to form an upside-down triangle, then three slightly jagged circles centered on each corner. “It consists of three key elements: fire, thunder, and wind.”

“Arlen, why did you draw it upside-down? Usually fire goes on top, and-”

“Merric, fire is the most basic element. Thunder and wind are more advanced concepts and generally more powerful,” he interrupted. “This is how I interpret it.”

“Well, I believe the Prince should see the more common interpretation so that he’s not confused,” Merric insisted, picking up a piece of chalk and quickly setting it to work.

“Hey! I’m the head instructor here!”

It took less than ten seconds for him to sketch a stack of three oblong circles with symbols inside of them. Jubelo had trouble seeing them from his desk… he asked, “May I come closer?”

“Don’t bother. It’s a waste of-”

“Sure thing, Prince!”

“Merric, I already said-”

“Arlen, please! He’s already getting up! …Go ahead Prince, take a good look.”

Jubelo shakily rose from his seat and approached the chalkboard. He started to relax with their bickering over… Arlen had fallen silent, crossed his arms and looked away. Closer inspection revealed a simple fire sketch in the top bubble, a swirl with a tail in the lower-left, and a lightning bolt in the lower-right.

Merric pointed to each and exposited, “The top represents fire, the bottom-left represents wind and the bottom-right represents thunder. This is how most books portray the Anima Trinity.”

“Most books are wrong. Fire does not belong on top when it’s the simplest form of anima magic,” Arlen corrected while keeping his back turned.

“That’s a fair interpretation Arlen, but the fact is it’s not what the Prince will see in books,” Merric answered, walking over and reaching out to Arlen, only to have his hand batted away.

“You can’t trust the books on everything Merric, they’re not always correct.”

“Yes, I understand. Sometimes information becomes outdated. All I’m saying is-”

Arlen cut him off. “All I’m saying is that you focus too intently on your books, Merric! You won’t become a world-class sage if you swear by the same gospel as everyone else!”

Merric bargained, “I, I didn’t mean like that, Arlen! Nor do I mean to dismiss your takes… I just think if one perspective is so common, it’s important to consider. It’s not like either is wrong…”

“Regardless, it’s important we prepare the Prince to think critically when presented with multiple perspectives, instead of merely taking the book at face value.”

There was a knock on the door. “Is everything alright in there?”

“It’s fine, Master Wendell. I was clearing up some misinformation on Merric’s part,” Arlen stated.

“Misinformation!? Arlen, I was merely demonstrating how most literature presents it!”

“This again?” Wendell entered with a sigh. The Prince had quietly returned to his seat and stared idly… he took one look at the board and it was all he needed. “Arlen, we’ve been over this before. Your interpretation of the Anima Trinity is valid, and I believe it marks a good example of critical thinking.”

Arlen flashed a smirk at Merric, only for it to vanish when their teacher continued.

“However, you must consider that it is still a niche interpretation. If you wish to deviate from the literature, you should at least supplement it with said literature and be prepared to defend your own views. That’ll encourage other students to search for their own conclusions.”

“…Yes, Master Wendell.”

“Thank you both for taking the time to educate the young prince. Learning is an experience for teacher and student alike, and I’m sure you’ll all derive lessons from today.”

“If I may, Lord Wendell,” Jubelo requested, raising his hand. “Do you think, maybe Arlen and Merric could… alternate lessons? It’s hard to focus when there are two of them.”

“Hm, I see… too many cooks spoil the soup,” Wendell mulled. “I’d like you to learn to work together, but I suppose it might be best to split you up in these early stages. What do you say?”

“Please,” Arlen said flatly.

“I guess that would be a good idea for now… Arlen and I could use more experience cooperating.”

“Then it’s settled. Arlen, why don’t you come with me for now? I want you to see the additional responsibilities a high post such as mine entails.”

“Very well, Master.” Arlen turned to his peer and warned, “But let’s be clear, Merric. I don’t want you treading over my lessons when you deliver yours.”

“Yes, I promise you, Arlen. We’ll be respectful to one another’s teachings,” Merric assured, returning to the chalkboard. “Now Prince, as you see here…”

“Good grief, Merric.”

Merric was too preoccupied redressing the board to catch Arlen’s grumble. But Jubelo faintly heard and observed he had lingered behind his teacher a moment. The door closed just as the prince turned his gaze toward it… it left him a bit concerned. Did Merric really upset him that much?

It was a thought to digest later, as the wind mage called his attention back to the board.

“Like a sermon, huh?”

“Miss Helen said white magic, that which is contained in staffs, has strong roots in faith,” Yuliya explained, describing her own early lessons. “It’s, sort of boring right now, but if this is what it takes I shall press on. What about you? Are you taking in all your lessons?”

“Mhm. Some of the material is dense, but I’m starting to make connections… and, there’s no magic yet! So that makes it easier!”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe now, but it won’t be that way forever. Steel yourself, Brother.”

“I know… but there are, uh, a few wrinkles with my two instructors…”

“Let me guess, Arlen and Merric don’t get along?”

“It’s more one-sided… Arlen criticizes his methods a lot. Archbishop Wendell had to split them up, and, well… they’re more effective on their own, but their teaching styles still differ.”

“How so?”

“Well, Arlen likes to stray from the book. Master Wendell warned him not to ignore it completely, so he usually shares it alongside what the book teaches. His lessons are also more straightforward,” Jubelo described. “Merric is nicer and more hands-on, but sometimes I wish he’d sit back and let me read through it myself…”

“So he’s intrusive? Sounds like Princess Maria.”

“Huh? He’s just trying to help, but…”

“Yes, and so does she. But I don’t need to be reminded that she’s a few years ahead of me so often!” Yuliya complained.

“Well… maybe you could tell her that? Nicely… just say that if you need help you’ll ask. I tried it earlier with Merric, and it helps.”

“I’m looking for it. Hold on.”

That sounded like Arlen, unhappy as usual… a few seconds later he walked into their study and spotted a stack of books on the desk – the prince’s reading materials. Jubelo asked, “Do you need something?”

“Yes. There’s an advanced level tome we were reviewing that… aha.”

He lifted the top half of the stack off and picked up a book that hadn’t been used. “Of course, he misplaced it among a novice’s materials. Just what I would expect of Merric.” Starting back towards the door he hissed under his breath, “Fucking idiot.”

Jubelo and Yuliya looked at one another in shock… Arlen had talked behind his peer’s back before, but never this vulgar! Out of curiosity and concern, Jubelo questioned, “Hey, um, Arlen… why do you… not like Merric so much?”

Arlen stopped under the door frame and glanced back.

“Yeah, seriously. I get that he doesn’t think his actions through, and he can be overbearing at times, but… it’s not like he’s trying to be mean,” Yuliya added. “Misguided or not, he’s trying to be friendly.”

“That’s just it. Merric always harps about camaraderie, and friendship this and that… it’s all rubbish.”

The twins shared a doubtful glance while his rant continued.

“Merric insists that learning together makes us stronger… bah, how naive. Trusting in others doesn’t make you stronger; it makes you complacent. One minute you think someone’s your friend, next thing you know he stabs you in the back once he’s ahead. Those you think are peers aren’t your friends, they’re enemies waiting to take advantage of you… you’ll do well to remember that.”

“So you’re telling my own brother is an enemy?”

Arlen returned Yuliya a dumbfounded look. “…What? No! Of course not!”

“You just said the people we’re learning alongside are our enemies,” she countered.

“Princess, that is not what I meant when-”

“And what about our teachers? With how much of knowledge they have over us, they could surely take advantage of us!” she reasoned. “Does that make Master Wendell our enemy? Does it make him your-”

“Enough! If you think Master Wendell is my enemy, you’re speaking nonsense!”

“What I’m saying is you’re full of it, Mr. Thundergrumps!”

“Now listen here, Prin-” Arlen paused. His eye twitched and he demanded, “…What did you just call me you little-” He caught himself before the next consonant. “Mm… Little Miss?”

“Thundergrumps. Your specialty is thunder magic and you’re always grumpy. Get it, Mister?”

“Princess, if you know what’s good for you, you will refrain from saying that.”

“Oh yeah? And just what are you going to do, Mr. Thundergrumps?”

Arlen clenched his teeth and fists as he became red with anger. Then, with a huff, he forced them to relax. “I will not stand for this. Master Wendell will hear about your behavior, Little Miss.”

Yuliya sat quietly with a hard look while he departed and wait about ten seconds before hopping to her feet and stomping to the door. Jubelo asked, “Yuliya, where are you going?”

“I heard what he said, and I’m not letting it slide,” she declared, closing the door behind her.

The princess lightened her steps in the hallway, sneaking to Archbishop Wendell’s office as quickly and cautiously as she could. She slowed as she approached the final hall, paying careful attention to her surroundings. When she heard Arlen’s voice while rounding the corner she hastily pulled back, waited and listened. His footsteps grew quieter… good, he was going in the other direction.

Once she no longer heard his feet she stepped up to the Archbishop’s office and knocked on the door.

Once she no longer heard his feet she stepped up to the door and knocked. “Master Wendell?”

“Princess Yuliya? Come on in. I’ve been meaning to have a word with you.”

Yuliya entered his office and walked straight to the chair, sitting opposite the archbishop. His gentle yet serious expression belied his intention. “I understand you and Arlen got into an argument not long ago. He said you referred to him with an… unflattering nickname.”

“Mr. Thundergrumps?”

“Yes, that name. While I understand you may not get along at times, I ask that you not resort to name-calling. It’s inappropriate and it only makes the conflict worse.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right… but, I think he meant to call me something even more inappropriate.”

Wendell raised one of his bushy eyebrows. “Did he, now?”

“Yes. He called me Little Miss, but it sounded like he was going to say something else first. The first word was the same, but the second word… I think it would’ve had a similar tune to witch?”

“A similar tune to witch? That-” The Archbishop went bug-eyed when he connected the dots. “Is that true, Yuliya… if so, then yes. That is very serious.”

“Mhm. It hurt my feelings when I realized it… do you think you could talk to him? Please?” she asked with an innocent smile.

“Yes, I’ll set this straight right away,” he affirmed, standing up. “Wait here, Princess. I’ll bring him back with me so we can resolve this.”

“Actually, I was going to go back to our study room with Jubelo.”

“Ah, alright then. We’ll swing by in a few minutes.”

“Thank you Master Wendell!” Yuliya said with a curtsy.

Wendell smiled back to her. “Of course, Princess Yuliya. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Wendell’s smile dropped immediately as he left the room. Yuliya initially walked down the hall back to her study, but after rounding the corner she stopped and peered back around. Then she doubled back and stealthily tracked him on his course to Arlen, always remaining a corner behind.

After a brief walk Wendell arrived in the study room his peers shared. He opened the door and requested, “Merric, step outside a minute. I need a word with Arlen.”

“Oh? Of course, Master Wendell,” Merric answered. It seemed innocuous until Master Wendell abruptly slammed the door shut behind him. “Huh?”

“Arlen, put that book down this instant!”

“Master!? Why-”

“I heard the Princess’s side of the story, and I cannot believe you would stoop so low!”

“W-wait, Master! I can explain!”

“Master Wendell?!” Merric was startled by his temper… it was rare for him to sound this angry. Further questions arose when Princess Yuliya, giggling through a mischievous grin, crept up and put an ear to the door. “…What is going on?”

“Aarlen’s beeing puuunished,” she softly sang to herself.

“Who started it does not matter, it’s no excuse for you to swear at a child!”

Merric gasped. “What!?”

“Master, I didn’t use any swears! All I said was-”

“Little Miss! Yes, I know. But she caught your sleight of the tongue! She realized you were about to call her something far worse!”

Merric stood bewildered while Yuliya fought back against her diaphragm. She couldn’t see the look on Arlen’s face but Master Wendell’s tone painted a fine picture.

“Arlen Rothfeder, I have warned you repeatedly about your foul tongue and temper, but THIS!? You nearly cursed out a child little more than half your age, let alone the PRINCESS OF GRUST!!”

Yuliya had heard enough. She left Merric to his own devices and ran back straight to her room, her chest still beating like a drum with dry, muted laughter. Meanwhile, he could only listen in shock and wait for Master Wendell’s raucous scolding to end.

“Is this the impression you plan to leave on future students!? On Khadein’s reputation!? I expect better of you, young man!”

After his sister’s sudden departure Jubelo returned to reading on his own, although it wasn’t long before a knock on the door. “Yuliya?”

“No, it’s me,” Maria answered while letting herself in. “I saw Arlen pass by with a sour look on his face, and then your sister not long afterwards. She looked pretty mad too… did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. They got into a fight a little while ago… Yuliya called him a name, he left to tell Lord Wendell and then she followed him.”

“What did she call him?”

“Mr. Thundergrumps…”

“Oh… I see why he’d be unhappy. That’s not very nice… did he call her anything back?”

“Just Little Miss… I think he was going to say something else first, but…”

Maria scratched her chin. “…Whatever it was, that doesn’t sound like it would be much nicer.”

“I just wish they weren’t so mean to each other… we’re all living under Master Wendell’s roof. Can’t they at least try to be nice?” he asked, sounding frustrated.

Maria sat next to him and said, “I know how you feel. I wish Michalis didn’t fight with our father, or… Minerva… I get that they had their reasons, but did they have to go to such lengths?! Michalis killing Father, Minerva trying to… killing him?”

Jubelo patted her on the shoulder. “Yeah. I know Yuliya wants to stand up for me, but I wish she’d do it without being so mean…”

“I remember your sister being snappy when we were younger, but… never this nasty! What happened when you were imprisoned?”

“Well, some of the guards would taunt us, insult us, spook us with their magic… I could never muster anything to say, but Yuliya started shouting back at them. It got fiercer the more it happened,” he explained. “But it didn’t last long… usually she went back to crying when they left…”

“Oh… poor Yuliya. Being imprisoned must have left deep wounds.”

“Yeah… I miss the old Yuliya. She raised her voice sometimes, but she was kinder to me, and everyone else… she also didn’t talk badly about Father.”

“Well, did your father do much to protect you from Gharnef? When she brought him up, it sounded like he caved quickly,” she recalled.

“Not much, no… I-I have a hard time talking about that day, let’s not-” A click of the doorknob caught his attention, and he looked back up to see his snickering sister walk back in. “Yuliya?”

“What are you laughing about?”

“Hehe, oh, you’ll see in a bit,” she replied giddily before sitting next to him, opposite Maria. “So, what were you talking about?”

“I was just curious what happened between you and Arlen… what did he say for you to call him Mr. Thundergrumps, anyway?”

“Oh, that. Arlen was being his usual self. Trying to tell us trust and friendship are useless and garbage.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“I know, that’s what I was saying! Sure, you can’t trust just anybody, that’s common sense. But treating everyone around you like an enemy? That’s a bridge too far!”

Jubelo said, “Yes, but… you didn’t have to call him that over it.”

“Jubelo, he raised his voice with us after we asked him an innocent question!”

“He, raised his voice with you…”

“What difference does it make? He was addressing both of us to begin with!”

“Well, I agree with your brother, Yuliya… did you have to escalate it like you did?” Maria questioned.

“He was being disrespectful to us, Maria. We’re royalty. If he didn’t want trouble, he should know better than to-” Another knock on the door interrupted her. She started sneering and lowered her voice. “Shhh, this is gonna be good.”

“Princess Yuliya? Prince Jubelo? I hope we’re not disturbing you,” Wendell called.

“No Master Wendell, you can come in.”

Lord Wendell opened the door for Arlen, who trudged in with the poise of a used mop: slumped shoulders, a sweat-soaked brow, and a defeated sulk highlighted with flushed red cheeks. He groaned upon seeing Princess Yuliya, whose cheeky grin was clearly holding back more laughter.

Wendell inquired, “Now Arlen, what do you have to say to the Princess?”

“I… apologize for speaking so harshly, in front of you and your brother, Princess Yuliya.”

She responded smugly, “Thank you, Arlen.”

“And what do you have to say to Arlen, Princess Yuliya?”

She jumped at that line… Master Wendell now directed his gaze at her, bearing the same stern and expecting look he gave Arlen, but a tad softer. Maria and Jubelo weren’t offering any support either – they too were staring at her with similar expressions.

“I’m waiting, Princess Yuliya,” Arlen prodded, a slight smirk in one corner of his mouth.

Yuliya swallowed, stood up and took a pace forward, tilting her head down in embarrassment. “I’m… sorry I called you Mist-”

“You will refrain from saying it if you are sincere.”

“That… sorry for calling you that.”

Wendell nodded with satisfaction. “That’s better. I ask that you two take these lessons to heart, try to be more civil in the future. If you have any further trouble, please come and see me rather than…”

While following the archbishop out, Arlen tilted his head back towards Princess Yuliya. He narrowed his eyes, pointed two fingers at them and then swung them straight at her. In turn, she puffed up her cheeks and threw his gesture right back at him.

Jubelo shook his head with an exasperated sigh while Maria lowered her face into one palm.

Chapter Text

To my young lieges,

I hope you are doing well under Archbishop Wendell’s care. Reinforcements and supplies have arrived from the Kingdom of Archanea, and with their support most of our territory is back under control. There remain a few deserters and bandit holdouts, and some are wary of the Archaneans’ presence. Remnants of the Sable Order are here to help me maintain order, and I’m confident we can begin to rebuild our kingdom. For the time being I’ve moved our administrative capital to Olbern Keep. It’s in a more secure location and closer to the heart of Grust than our more lavish estates.

Are you putting the books I sent you to good use? Let me know when you are ready for the following volumes and I’ll send them as well. I brought most of our kingdom’s valuables and relevant literature to Olbern Keep just in case. Pardon the delays on arranging for your new outfits, I’ve been swamped with more important matters… however, I enlisted one of the late king’s tailors recently. He will see you clothed up to standards as our prince and princess.

I pray you make the most of your time at Khadein. You are in your countrymen’s thoughts, and we’d be happy if you visited some time! You are under no obligations however, and please consider your host before arranging a visit.

Take care, Your Highnesses.

General Lorenz Garnier
Interim Regent of the Kingdom of Grust

Yuliya and Jubelo were pleased to hear from the general, and more so at the tailor who delivered his message. He quickly assembled a team from Khadein’s staff and, with their input, devised a set of wardrobe choices that would suit the prince and princess. His preparation took into account the city’s own culture, its climate, and what they might be doing while here. By nightfall he had drawn up options for both siblings, and in the morning he presented them and oversaw the tailoring processes.

Yuliya was presented with a few choices of dress, all with respect to her budding studies as a cleric. Her final outfit was a white dress with modest shoulder cuffs, a skirt that stopped clear of her ankles, gold trim, blue patchwork running down the center, and a collar affixed with a ruby brooch. She also received a belt to provide carrying space around the waist and moccasins common among Khadein’s residents. Once it was complete she hastily changed out of her old clothes and spent a few minutes inspecting – no, admiring – every detail in the mirror.

The tailor smiled as she spun around a fifth time. “I take it the Princess is satisfied with her new attire?”

“Hm, yes. I look far more presentable now… you’ve done fine work, Maxwell.”

He bowed respectfully. “Of course, Princess Yuliya. It’s a joy to see you adapting to life here in Khadein, and to further help you adapt in my own way.”

“Now what about my brother? Did you produce a design suitable for him?”

“Yes, he selected his shortly after you. They should be putting the finishing touches on his outfit by now… I’ll check on their progress.”

After Maxwell left she returned her attention to the mirror and continued admiring her outfit. The gold trim and soft blue complemented her hair and eyes… out of the corner of said eyes, she spotted the other princess peeking in from the opposite door. “What is it, Maria?”

“I was curious to see how your new outfits are coming along,” she replied while entering. “And yours is great! You look like a real cleric in training now!”

Yuliya turned to her and adopted a proud stance. “Yes, and I also carry the poise of a princess now!”

“You sure do! I like the blue stripe running down the middle, it makes your dress look more unique.” She put her finger to her lips and mulled, “Maybe I’ll ask for something similar when I need a new one…”

“Well, yes. You could stand to wear something more regal,” Yuliya commented.

“Um, that’s not what I meant…”

A knock on the door signaled Maxwell’s return. “Princess? Your brother’s outfit is finished and he is examining the handiwork.”

Yuliya excitedly followed Maxwell to her brother’s chamber, trailed by Maria. Her enthusiasm faded a bit when she saw the outfit… it had regal flair but was not exactly dashing. He wore a blue tunic with poofy white pants, the same moccasins she and Maria wore, a gold-latticed waistband and a blue breechcloth patterned similar to her dress. In his hands he had a blue shawl with a wide golden collar; he held it stretched out in front of him, examining it in the mirror.

From the corner of the mirror he spied his sister and greeted, “Oh, hi Yuliya! Hold on…” While turning to face her he slipped it over his head. “There! All set! What do you think?”

“Oh wow, you match your sister!” Maria exclaimed, slipping past her to see it up close. “I said Yuliya looked like a real cleric, and you’re looking more like a proper mage!”

“Aha, thanks Maria… I, thought if I dressed more like one it might inspire more confidence.” Jubelo noticed his sister’s lukewarm reaction and repeated, “So uh, what do you think, Yuliya?”

She answered, “Well, you certainly look more like a prince, but… couldn’t you have picked something more… knightly, Jubelo?”

“The Prince requested a more magically-inclined outfit, to go with your studies here at Khadein. He may wish to switch to another garb once you return to Grust and he begins his martial training,” Maxwell explained. “You’ll need new outfits eventually to keep up with your growth. It’s something he can consider down the line.”

“Yeah Yuliya. You said we should focus on our studies while we’re here, and that’s why I picked this outfit. It’s why you picked your dress, right?”

“Um, yes… that is true, Brother.”

Master Wendell was as delighted by the twins’ new outfits as they were. A wonderful blend between your kingdom’s aesthetic and our city’s, he said! Since it was a rather cloudy day, he decided to take their lesson outdoors to celebrate; Maria was invited to join them, and though Arlen declined to participate Merric happily took his place.

The sands immediately surrounding the city and the oasis were shallow, requiring only slightly more effort, but as they crossed off the beaten off the dunes put up greater resistance. At Wendell’s request the twins took the first steps forward… they were twice as arduous as the trek here. Sand came up to their ankles as their feet sank into it. Yuliya stopped and asked, “Um, Master Wendell? How are we supposed to go any further? Regrettably, I fear we don’t yet have the strength.”

“Yeah… these first few steps are tiring enough.”

“No worries. We casters know how to cross these sands with ease… observe,” he replied whilst striding past them. To their surprise his steps appeared effortless, the sands at his ankles seemingly brushing itself aside.

Yuliya’s jaw dropped. “What? How…” She spotted Merric following with similar ease, as did Maria while humming a tune. “You too!?”

“Mhm! We have the wind spirits to thank for it… and no, despite being a wind mage it is not my doing alone. All those attuned to magic can borrow this power, and today you too will learn it!”

“That’s right, Merric. You see Princess, Prince, not all magic demands a tome or staff. Simpler forms require only a prayer or incantation, and with enough practice you’ll internalize it, just like Merric and I have,” Wendell explained. “Did you hear what Princess Maria was humming?”

“Oh? Yes, I heard it… was that the prayer you speak of?”

“Mhm, it’s the Wind Walker’s prayer! It’ll let you cross the sand with steps as light as on the plains!”

“It’s no secret to Khadein either. When we were here during the war I thought to show Linde, but she already knew! In fact, her father included it in his lessons at Archanea’s academy,” Merric mentioned.

“Then, will you teach us the verses? So we can walk with you?” Jubelo asked.

“Absolutely! It’s why I brought you out here today. What better way to break in your new clothes?” Wendell jovially answered. “Now, repeat after me: O Spirits of Winds that race ‘cross the land…”

“O Spirits of Winds that race ‘cross the land…” they recited.

“Please lend us thy ear, guide us on our way.”

“Please lend us thy ear, guide us on our way.”

“Good.” He held out his hand and motioned for them to come while continuing, “Let us stride gracefully on our long journey…”

“Let us stride gracefully on our long journey…”

Cautiously, the twins took their first step mid-verse. It was surprisingly easy… their faces lit up and they glanced at one another in shared joy.

Wendell nodded and spoke the final verse: “Like leaves that blow on a brisk autumn day.”

“Like leaves that blow on a brisk autumn- ah!”

“Yuliya!”

In her excitement the princess quickened her pace, but the prayer was not enough. She tripped when her feet caught on the thickened sand and nearly fell, but Jubelo caught her by the hand. He might’ve stumbled over with her if not for the sand, which offered a buffer to keep his balance.

“Whoa! Easy there Princess, you and the Prince are still beginners,” Master Wendell urged. “Forgive me, I should have warned you. The Wind Walker’s prayer requires greater attunement to use to its fullest extent. This will come naturally with your training, but for now you should exercise caution.”

“Oh… okay, Master Wendell,” she replied, feeling slightly deflated.

“However, there is a way around this… take my hands.”

Yuliya perked up again and took the archbishop’s left hand, while Jubelo took his right.

“Now, sign with me… O Spirits of Winds-”

“Um… did you say sing?” she asked with slight disbelief.

“Yes! By joining hands we act as a conduit for those less attuned, and if they join us in prayer they can share in its full benefits! You don’t even need training this way!” Merric exclaimed.

“Yeah, and putting a tune to it makes it more memorable!” Maria added.

“It’ll give you a taste of what your training will yield. Trust me, you’ll be able to follow at any pace!” Wendell assured. “Now, with me: O Spirits of Winds that race ‘cross the land, please lend us thy ear, guide us on our way…”

Princess Yuliya sang along half-heartedly, while Prince Jubelo sang very quietly. This was embarrassing… them, the Crown Prince and Princess of Grust, singing like choir boys? Good thing they were a long way from home, or she’d never live it down… they couldn’t dwell on the thought however, as Master Wendell sped up to a trot.

“Let us stride gracefully on our long journey, like leaves that blow on a brisk autumn day!”

Lagging behind left them no choice but to raise their voices to match the chorus. They could feel their cheeks burning despite the sun’s retreat behind the clouds. More surprise came when Princess Maria had taken her other hand, while Merric took the prince’s; Master Wendell released his grip and allowed them to guide the twins.

“Don’t worry Yuliya, you’ll get used to it! Once we’re further along in our practice we’ll only have to think it!” Maria promised cheerfully. “But I don’t mind singing from time to time!”

To hell with that. She was through singing the moment humming sufficed, she swore.

“Let’s keep a brisk pace now! Once more!” Wendell declared.

“O Spirits of Winds that race ‘cross the land,
Please lend us thy ear, guide us on our way,
Let us stride gracefully on our long journey,
Like leaves that blow on a brisk autumn day!”

“Wa-ha-ha-haaa! WHOOOOOOO!!”

Maria hollered with joy riding in the saddle with Lord Wendell. Their lessons and exercise had tired out the twins, but this mild a day was a rare treat in Khadein. So to keep the twins entertained, he brought a wyvern out of the stables for a demonstration. Princess Maria eagerly volunteered when he offered them rides, longing to feel the rush of flight again.

From the ground, Yuliya and Jubelo watched in awe alongside Merric. “I didn’t realize Master Wendell could ride a wyvern.”

“Neither did I at first! I’d heard the bishop hailed from Macedon, but I never expected a scholar of sorcery to have such skill at wyvern taming! It was almost magical watching him calm that stray in Lefcandith Valley after its rider was lost… and seeing him fight atop it in a few sorties! That gave me greater respect for my teacher,” Merric fondly recalled.

Jubelo inquired, “Is there a reason behind it, or was he honoring his heritage?”

“Oh yes, it’s actually quite handy. In a desert, wyverns are easier to sustain and vastly more mobile than horses. They’re also more efficient for traveling across borders with all of Archanea’s seaways,” he explained. “When Master Wendell has business in the kingdoms, he travels by air. Warp magic sounds more convenient, but it’s very taxing and fickle over long distances.”

“Is that the same wyvern he tamed during the war?” Yuliya asked.

“Probably not. Most of Khadein’s wyverns are communal, although the one he brought back found a good home among the flock.”

“WHOOOOOO!”

Maria’s exuberance reached far and wide as they zipped and zoomed through the air, Wendell directing his mount through a bevy of aerial maneuvers. It was hard to take their eyes off them… a few minutes later the wyvern turned towards them and glided into a slowing descent before touching down. Maria was still pink and giddy as she slid off just above the shoulder.

“Thanks for the ride, friend!” she said, stroking the beast around the base of the neck. She giggled as it crowed its neck and tilted its head towards her, lapping its tongue in pleasure. “And thank you for letting me fly with you, Archbishop Wendell!”

“My pleasure, Maria. It’s not often I have company on a joyflight!” He then glanced to the twins and offered, “What about you? How would YOU like to try flying on a wyvern?”

“We’ll do it!” Yuliya announced, grabbing her brother’s hand. But as she tried to approach Jubelo would not budge. “Let’s go, Jubelo!”

“N-n-no thanks, I don’t want-”

“It’ll build character for you! Now come on, you need this!”

“Princess, please don’t force him!” Merric urged.

Maria agreed and stood in Yuliya’s way. “Yeah, flying isn’t something anyone can do without fear! Some trainees have dropped out because they could never find the courage.”

“That’s why he needs this! Grust’s King and Commander has to be brave, and this is a ripe opportunity to build character!”

Wendell requested, “Princess, please let him make the decision for himself. We all have to face our fears at some point, but you cannot just throw someone in front of them against their will. Now let him go! I will not saddle a passenger who won’t consent.”

Reluctantly she released his hand but tried to protest. “But, but-”

“Have patience. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to try again in the coming days. Perhaps when the Prince gains a bit more confidence he might consider it,” the bishop suggested before turning to Jubelo. “I partly agree with the Princess though, it might be a good experience. And when you do become comfortable, maybe we can pay General Lorenz a visit! How does that sound?”

“Um… that sounds good, but… n-not today, please…”

Yuliya sighed. “Come on, Brother… what if I volunteered for a ride, Master Wendell?”

“If that is what you wish, you are welcome to join me, Princess,” he replied, patting the seat in front of him. “Watch carefully Prince, your sister wants to set an example for you.”

“That’s right, watch me!” she affirmed, marching boldly to the wyvern’s side and attempting to climb it. “Mmm… um, a little help?” It looped its neck back around its shoulder and stared curiously, prompting her to nervously take a step back. “H-hey, don’t give me that look!”

“Allow me, Princess.”

“Whuh!? Wh-whooa!”

A small funnel cloud formed beneath her feet and lifted her high enough for Master Wendell to pull her aboard. Breathing rapidly as she was seated in front of him, she turned to Merric and snapped, “Don’t do that again unless I say so!”

“Aha, sorry Princess…”

Wendell held up the reins and inquired, “Do you need a moment to relax?”

“Hah, no, I’m… I’m ready,” she answered with an exhale. “Take off, at will.”

Wendell lightly cracked the reins and his steed uttered a piercing scream while spreading its wings. Yuliya clung tightly to the saddle, turning pale and trying not to panic as the ground below them receded. “A-ah, aaaaah…”

“Are you alright, Princess? Maybe it might be too soon…”

“N-no, Master Wendell. Continue… I’ll, I’ll be alright…”

“If you say so… don’t worry, we’ll take it slowly.”

Although she tried to put on a brave face, from the ground her brother worried. Jubelo saw how skittish she was during takeoff… “Um, a-are you sir it’s safe?”

“She’ll be alright. Most of us are nervous the first time flying. I was uneasy when Michalis took me for my first flight,” Maria admitted. “But the more you try something the more natural it feels! I’m sure Yuliya will be a little calmer the next time.”

“Mhm. And remember what Master Wendell said: if you two grow comfortable riding with him, he can fly you to Grust for a visit!” Merric encouraged.

“Uh, yeah… that, would be great…” Jubelo answered while watching the sky. If I can keep my nerve on that thing…

“When I go back to Macedon, I want to start taking pegasus riding lessons! Someday, I’ll command a mighty wyvern just like my sister!” Maria declared.

“Oh, that’ll be a sight to see! …But it begs the question, Princess. If men can’t ride pegasi, how do your brother and all the other male dracoknights learn?” Merric asked.

“Most get basic riding experience on horseback. It’s tricky to relearn the motions on a new mount, but it builds confidence in your riding abilities.”

“Ah, I see.”

Jubelo, however, caught another word. “Did you say ‘most,’ Maria?”

“Oh? Uh, I wasn’t supposed to say … well, there are a rare few who did practice on pegasi. Michalis was one of them,” she confessed.

“Really? Then men can ride pegasi?”

“It’s very difficult. You have to temper your emotions… pegasi are very sensitive creatures that react strongly to your feelings. I’ve seen women bucked off for getting too temperamental, and they hold men to a far higher standard,” she explained. “You need to be really gentle, not get excited too easily, and not show any fear.”

“Wow… Caeda told me a bit on our way here, but hearing it from you? That sounds very demanding.”

Maria nodded. “Especially in the heat of battle. Michalis said he didn’t dare try… so few do it that most people believe it’s a myth, and Macedon’s pegasus knights like to keep it that way. Men who ride pegasi are made to wear a full-body outfit so that no one can tell you’re a man. Some women wear it too to keep the illusion, and only they are permitted to unmask in public. And then there’s the teasing over being girly…it’s enough to make most men switch to wyverns anyway.”

“Well you and Minerva could always change that, right?” Merric waited for an answer, and when he didn’t receive one he repeated, “…You will consider changing it, riiight?”

“Mmaaaybe,” she replied, rolling her eyes away with an innocent smile.

“Say, Maria… why is it that pegasi don’t let men ride them? Most men, nayway,” Jubelo wondered.

“Most historians think it’s because we hunted them in the time before kingdoms. Most hunters were men, and according to our oldest records it was mostly women who fought for their mercy.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, his eyes still trained Master Wendell’s wyvern… he took a step back as it swung towards them and began descending.

“Oh! Looks like Yuliya’s flight is over!”

Maria motioned for everyone to stay back while the wyvern made its landing. It beat its wings to slow its descent moments before touching down; and rather than come to a quick stop, it hit the ground with a slow trot. This was a tactic used for gentler landings… one Princess Yuliya needed. She panted heavily with a distant look in her eyes when Wendell and Merric helped her down.

Jubelo carefully walked up and asked, “Yuliya? Are you okay?”

“Hah, hah, yes… yes, I’ll be alright,” she answered through exhales. “I… may have underestimated… how… hah, frightening, flying so high can be…”

“You’ll get used to it the more you try, I promise,” Maria encouraged. “You’ll keep at it, right?”

“Uh, yes… I… I’ll take your word for it… but, for now… I’ll never take the ground for granted again…”

Wendell waved to the prince and inquired, “Would you like a ride too, Prince Jubelo? Or shall I return this fellow to the stables?”

Jubelo backpedaled, raised his hands and shook his head rapidly. His sister gave no objections – forcing him was futile until she could keep her nerves.

“All right then. Merric, take the young prince and princesses inside, please.”

“Can I go with you, Lord Wendell? Pleeeeease?”

He chuckled. “Be my guest! Come along, Princess!”

Maria excitedly bounded over to Wendell and his wyvern while Merric led the twins inside. They heard her cheering with joy again as it glided overhead. Jubelo held his sister’s hand to help her recover, and he felt a vise grip around his thumb.

Chapter Text

Jubelo curiously looked over the illustration of wyvern anatomy. To help them find more confidence in flight, Maria showed them a guidebook on the subject. It contained common riding commands, advice, and in-depth sections on the pegasus and wyvern. “Those are some big lungs…”

“Yup! Wyverns need a lot of air to fly,” Maria replied, pointing to the diagram. “They also use it to breathe fire, but our flocks can’t do that well.”

“Hm? Why is that?” Yuliya wondered. “Wouldn’t it be useful to have a wyvern breathe fire?”

“It’s actually more of a liability. Wyverns with stronger breath are harder to tame, more aggressive and prone to turning against their riders. It’s a mistake rookie officers pay for with their lives,” she explained. “Dragon breath also burns us more easily than it burns them… so it’s a good thing the flocks in Macedon and Dolhr lost that talent.”

“How did that happen, anyway?”

“We don’t know for sure, but the common belief is that it’s safer around us.”

“Safer around us?” Jubelo wasn’t complaining, but it was strange to wrap his head around.

“Wyverns and pegasi are very intelligent, they’ll try to avoid trouble if they can help it. Most of our wyverns only use small amounts to cook their meat. If they breathe it towards a handler they’re swiftly punished… this is rare, though. Wild wyverns from the Wyvern’s Dale are a lot nastier, but they mellow out after spending a few months with our flock.”

“Really? It’s that easy?”

“Mhm! They need a few months before we can train them, but the wyverns we already have do a good job taming them! Sometimes they fight, but rarely to the death. Usually the higher-ranking members of the flock break it up before it gets too bloody.”

Yuliya asked, “What if the wyverns break out of captivity? Does the opposite happen?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Wyverns can develop strong bonds with a rider they become accustomed to, and that keeps them very loyal. But without that they quickly go feral after escaping. They’re easier to retame the second time though, and Macedon has a special team of wyvern wranglers to bring them back,” she assured.

“Macedon, huh?” Yuliya scratched her chin. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen dracoknights in other kingdoms… are you really the only ones with them?”

“We used to be. For a long time, the only wyverns that left our borders belonged to mercenary knights who sold their services, but not their loyalties.”

“And Khadein? When Merric described it, it sounded like they had them for awhile.”

“Oh, right! A few wyverns were lent to Khadein for the pontifices’ use, but only for official business,” she explained. “But that changed when the war started. Michalis broke from tradition and shared our secrets with Grust and Dolhr, to show he was committed to their side.”

“Ah… but that begs the question, Dolhr has a large population of wyverns too. Surely they would have figured it out themselves, right?” Yuliya reasoned.

“You’d think so, but the Dolhr Empire forbade the practice. It was considered a blasphemy when Iote and his comrades tamed the first wyverns, and I remember hearing some harsh words about it from Dolhr’s manaketes… I guess Medeus was so determined to win this time he gave it a chance.”

“But pegasi, though… I remember seeing them as mail carriers,” Jubelo commented.

Maria nodded. “Macedon tamed them first too, but for a long time they were considered inferior due to their frailer bodies and meeker nature. They were only good for travel or scouting, and horseback riding transferred more easily, so we were more lenient about their spread.”

“Then what changed?”

“Magic! We long suspected they had mystical properties, and when Lord Gotoh brought back magic there were whispers that pegasus knights might be useful against them. But it was Minerva who made the effort,” she elaborated. “She always loved pegasi and only switched due to being Macedon royalty. But from a young age she tried to imitate the way Michalis fought on his wyvern… usually pegasi avoid fighting head-on, but with enough training Minerva was able to do combat maneuvers with a lance. So she drafted a few new recruits and taught them how to do it too! That’s how she met Dame Palla, and later her sisters joined them.”

“If they’re so skittish up close, have you tried using bows?” Yuliya suggested.

She shook her head. “No good. Those make them even flightier.”

“Did Princess Caeda learn under her wing?” Jubelo wondered.

“No, she was mostly self-taught, and she did a good job learning! Minerva was so impressed she called her an honorary Whitewing, even giving her an Elysian Whip. That’s a high honor in Macedon!” Maria exclaimed. “But for some reason I never saw it… usually our riders hang it on the side saddle. I asked her about it and she said she has it, but she doesn’t seem interested in displaying it.”

Yuliya raised an eyebrow. “So the whip’s only for display?”

“Yeah! It symbolizes the rider’s mastery of their mount. Whips are sometimes used to issue commands to wyverns, but direct lashing is frowned upon. It’s the sign of a bad rider or a bad wyvern.” Her expression turned severe as she added, “But you never crack a whip at a pegasus! Do that and you can forget about ever riding again! Trust me, the rest of the flock will find out.”

Yuliya and Jubelo shared a glance. “Yeah, I guess I can see that being a bad idea…”

Yuliya growled and shook her Kneader staff. “Rrrrgh, come on, come on…”

“Princess, the staff is not a weapon. You don’t beat the injuries off your patients.”

Roughly a month and a half had passed since Yuliya and Jubelo began their studies. With burgeoning foundations of theory in place, Lord Wendell believed it was time to introduce hands-on training. Today he oversaw the princess’s first attempts at casting, and tomorrow he would supervise the prince’s. He anticipated the latter might be more tumultuous, although Yuliya showed unexpected trouble with using a staff properly. Miss Helen warned that some of her lessons hadn’t stuck yet… he gave the princess the benefit of the doubt, but it seems she was telling the truth.

“Holy Spirit, please bless this staff…” She continued waving the staff, trying to force some reaction, to no avail. “Why isn’t it working!?”

“Yuliya, you have to be more gentle!” Maria raised her own staff. “Here, let me demonstrate.”

“Maria, I don’t need-”

“O Holy Spirit, please bless this staff and Knead this poor soul’s pain away.”

Upon reciting the words, the bulb of Maria’s staff shone a pale blue for a few brief seconds. She then stated, “There’s also an emotional part to healing. You need to have a show of faith – if there’s no sincere desire to restore your patient’s wounds, the magic has nothing to channel it through.”

“Very good, Princess Maria.” Wendell then turned to Yuliya and lectured, “See, Princess Yuliya? Although healing magic has its place in warfare, it occupies a very different role from weapons. To make good use of it, you must attune your thoughts to this role as well.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “Yes, Master Wendell…” Showoff…

“Maybe we should take a break for now. Take some time to clear your thoughts, release stress and ready yourself to settle into the proper mindset,” he suggested, strolling towards the door. “In the meantime, I’ll check on Arlen’s lesson to see how your brother is doing.”

Yuliya quietly nodded while Master Wendell exited and sat with her arms crossed and eyes shut. She didn’t budge or say a word as Maria repositioned herself next to her peer and waited. After about a minute of nothing, she asked, “Yuliya?”

No response.

Maria lightly scowled in annoyance and repeated, “Yuliya.”

“…What?”

“I was only trying to help you… I’m sorry if I made you feel worse. I just thought a demonstration on how to do it right might-”

“Can we change the subject?”

Maria paused. “I… guess that might help. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Yuliya remained closed off but relaxed into a more contemplative state. After briefly meditating on it, she opened her eyes, faced Maria and requested, “Can you tell me more about Prince Marth’s forces?”

“Oh, absolutely! Prince Marth is a wonderful man, he left such a great first impression!” Maria clasped her hands and happily recalled, “The way he sheathed his sword when he saw no one else in the cell, asked if I was alright aglow with concern… he was so dashing! And handsome! Haaaaah… if I were just a few years older I might…”

Yuliya stared back with a look of utter boredom.

“O-oh, um… sorry, I got a little carried away there,” she said with a blush.

Yuliya nodded and explained, “I meant to ask about more than him. You, Princess Caeda and Merric all give glowing accounts, but a prince or king is not his whole kingdom. Do his subordinates follow the same example?”

“Certainly! Their old champion Sir Jagen is strict, and a bit grumpy, but he was fair and polite whenever we spoke. Then there were Cain and Abel, a pair of cavaliers who fought fiercely by their side! Cain is hotheaded and very devoted to his liege; when he was deployed he was always at the front of his charge,” Maria described. “And Abel was his partner. He was a bit of a goof off the battlefield, but on it he was a completely different person! Sharp, alert, straightforward, like a big cat waiting to pounce… it’s honestly pretty scary how big a change it is…”

Now Yuliya was listening intently. She’d heard a few of Grust’s knights speak favorably of Altea’s years back… the small kingdom’s cavalry were said to be second only to her own.

Maria then added, “But Draug and Gordin were my favorites. They were infantry and saw the frontline less often, so Minerva would entrust me to them. Draug’s a big man with a big heart beneath his armor. At first his size made me nervous, but as soon as he started talking I warmed right up to him. He’s very nice and takes his work seriously… and Gordin’s the opposite. The smallest and youngest of Altea’s knights, looks young for his age… he often felt looked down upon for it. I think I related to him the most. When you’re the youngest princess by a decade-”

“I get the idea Maria, they all sound like good people,” Yuliya interjected. “But what were their thoughts on us? Dohlr, Grust, Macedon… their enemies. Did they hold ill will towards us?”

“Um, maybe a little… but it was mostly directed at Gra. They didn’t seem to hold the same animosity towards anyone el-”

“AAAH!!”

A pair of screams from the adjacent classroom startled them. One of the voices instantly gave Yuliya chills… “That sounded like Jubelo!”

The princesses bolted from their seat, out the door and to the adjacent room’s. Yuliya threw it open and gasped when she saw her brother sobbing, shielding his hand and crouched over in pain. In the back of the room Arlen was furiously stamping out an Ember tome, but he was the least of her concerns… she ran straight to her brother’s side. “Jubelo!?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Arlen hissed, his curses masked by the noise of heavy stomping. The frantic motion agitated his own burns, and combined with his frustration left him cringing.

“Jubelo, what is it? What happened?” Yuliya asked, softening her voice.

“Sniff… Nnngh… it hurts…” he wept, covering his right hand with his left.

“Hurts? Don’t tell me you-” She was aghast after tugging his left hand away – his right palm was red baked with blisters. Snapping her head towards Arlen she yelled, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!”

“Rrgh, I was just… trying to walk him through a basic spell,” he grumbled, revealing the red sections of his hand. “He got a little carried away.”

“He!? More like you pushed him too hard!”

Maria ran back into the room carrying her staff. It didn’t take her long to deduce what had happened, so she doubled back for it while Yuliya assessed the situation. “Relax, it’s just a training injury! It should be quick to- hey!”

Before she could begin casting Yuliya yanked the staff out of her hands and held it over her brother’s hand. Although rattled and struggling to hold it still, she recalled the verse and pleaded, “Holy Spirit, please bless this staff and Knead this poor soul…” Come on, COME ON…

“Yuliya, I know he’s your brother, but this is a real… huh?”

To Maria’s surprise, the staff reacted strongly to Yuliya’s fervent wish in spite of her sloppy form. Its blue light radiated over Jubelo’s wound, and the sting began to fade under a soothing sensation. Opening his eyes he was amazed to see his blisters recede and the reddened skin fade back to its usual pink. He held it up and flexed his palm to test it, smiling widely after registering no pain.

Maria smiled too. “Or, maybe that sibling bond was enough.”

“Thank you, Yuliya… it, feels back to normal now.”

“Really? Well, I’m glad…” She held up the Kneader staff and stared long and hard at it. There was so much to take in… normally burns took a few days to heal, if not longer. Yet this staff – wielded by her hands – banished it in only a few seconds. “Can, healing magic… can it really do this?”

“Ahem…”

Yuliya snapped out of her trace to see Arlen looming over her with his burned palm extended.

She glanced at the staff and back at his hand before shoving it back into Maria’s. “It was probably a fluke. You’d be better off if someone-”

“What’s going on in here?!”

All eyes fell on the archbishop as he rushed into the classroom. Arlen gulped internally, turned his hand inward and slipped in front of the Ember tome’s remains before his teacher could catch on. Fat lot of good it did him… Wendell caught the scent of burnt paper and took a few curious whiffs. Connecting the dots, the bishop glared straight at him. “Arlen…”

“Master Wendell, I can explain…”

“What did I tell you mere minutes ago? I explicitly warned you not to walk him through casting until I tested him first! He could have been injured!”

“He was,” Yuliya corrected.

“Pardon?” Wendell glanced to the young prince and princess and received a meek nod from the former. He then turned back to his apprentice with greater ire and lambasted, “Now do you understand!? I told you the Prince’s talent was not too be taken lightly! You should be grateful we have training equipment, with his sporadic gifts far worse could have happened!”

“Master, please! I only meant to-”

“GET OUT!!”

Yuliya’s scream stopped Arlen’s panicked posturing in its tracks. She was angrier than anyone else, glaring straight at him and baring teeth like knives. Not that the others were much better… even Maria shot him a disapproving look.

“Do as she says,” Wendell ordered, pointing to the exit. “I’ll cover that wound shortly, and we’re going to have a long, hard talk while we’re at it.”

“U-um… yes, Master.” Arlen crowed his head low and mumbled a weak “sorry” while slinking out.

Wendell exhaled deeply and addressed the young royals. “I’m really sorry about what happened. Seems my student didn’t get the memo… thank you for stepping in, Princess-”

“Actually, it was Princess Yuliya who healed him,” Maria interjected.

“Oh?” He tilted his gaze to the Grustian princess and mirrored her proud smile with his own. “Well then, congratulations are in order, Princess Yuliya! Although I hadn’t planned this to be your first practical exercise, I hope you gained a better perspective. If you can summon that same will for others, I’m confident you’ll make a fine cleric someday!”

“That day will not be far off,” she insisted with a nod.

Wendell chuckled, then turned to the prince and assured, “As for you, Prince Jubelo, I don’t mean to frighten you. Although your magic is dangerous if left unchecked, with enough practice you will become its master someday. At this stage you need a conduit to express it… for now, we’ll stick with lectures and postpone exercises until you’re ready.”

“Um, yeah I… don’t think I’m ready for tomes yet. Thank you Master Wendell… I-I’m sorry Yuliya.”

She patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay Brother. After today, I think you need extra time too.”

“I believe you’ve had enough excitement for one day. We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow… now, if you’ll excuse me.” Wendell’s smile subsided to a disappointed grimace as he departed.

Jubelo shifted his gaze back and forth between his hand and Maria’s staff. “Wow, white magic is… something else.”

“Mhm! And when you get better at it your options open even wider!” She spread out her arms and listed, “You can heal from afar, ward your friends against magic, open doors… why, you can even warp people when you’re good enough!”

“Warp people!? Really?”

“Sure can! White Sage Gotoh transported Prince Marth’s entire army once! No, twice!” She paused while her friends gaped in awe and then explained, “Most of us can’t pull that off, he’s a special case. …Although Miss Lena has a talent for it! She learned to cast it from an earlier age than most. Prince Marth says her talents came in handy many times throughout the war!”

Warding against magic? Opening doors? Transporting people? Yuliya was speechless – for the last month, studying white magic seemed so boring. Lobbing fireballs sounded a lot more practical… then she saw how potent it was. No, she experienced it herself. Watching her brother’s burn vanish before their very eyes opened hers to its true potential. And this was only the start… she did this with a training staff. It was difficult to grasp what she could accomplish with the more advanced healing spells, let alone all the other possibilities Maria claimed were available at the bulb of a staff.

With a brighter perspective, she resolved to learn all she could about white magic. It may be useless in a fight, but it offered another way to protect her dear brother. And that same zeal might inspire him to brave his own studies… Yuliya could only hope. If black magic held similar promise, he might be Grust’s finest King and Commander yet!

Or at least since Sir Ordwin; it’d be a monumental effort to topple their founder, that was a long stretch. Especially for him.

Chapter Text

Yuliya was getting tired of standing… she set her book down, picked up the candle and cautiously carried it to her nightstand. Then she walked back for her book, climbed into bed and continued her reading. The text was more difficult to see with the candlelight to her side, but twisting her torso and angling the pages made it more legible. Her eyelids began to flicker and she nodded slightly from fatigue, but rustling her head for a second staved it off. She couldn’t rest until she finished this chapter… she wouldn’t allow it! A little fatigue wasn’t going to set her further behind in her studies.

Jubelo groaned and rolled to his side. “Yuliya, can we please go to bed?”

“Not yet. I still have three… four more pages.”

“Yuliya…”

“Don’t ‘Yuliya’ me, Brother! I have to do this,” she insisted. “I can’t slack off and let that Macedonian princess leave me in the dust.”

“Yuliya, this isn’t a competition… and, I’m trying to sleep here. But that candlelight being so close is making it hard,” he complained. “If you want to read, can you do it in another room, please?”

Yuliya lowered her book in surprise. “Another room? But Jubelo, I… you, you don’t want to be left alone in the dark, do you?”

“If it’ll help me sleep, I’ll try…”

“But…”

He sat up and looked her in the eye groggily. “Yuliya, I’ll blow it out if I have to.”

“What!? No, no you won’t! You wouldn’t-”

He swung his legs over the besides and stood up.

“Um… fine! I’ll be back in a bit!” She hopped to her feet, took the book in one hand and the candle in the other. “But I don’t want to hear you crying when I come back!”

“You won’t…” He uttered a yawn while climbing back into bed. “See you soon.”

“Mhm. See you soon,” she answered, resisting the urge to yawn herself.

Jubelo sighed with relief as his sister exited and the light grew dimmer. With the curtains wide open it wasn’t that dark… moonlight tinted their bedchamber a deep navy blue rather than pitch black, and stars speckled the night sky with white dots. He had grown accustomed to this room, and despite the diminished light there was still enough to recognize its features. It was nothing like the cramped, empty void that left them feeling sore no matter how they tried to position themselves… actually, this “darkness” was relaxing. He could already feel the tension in his head fading.

As long as he didn’t look out the door… Yuliya neglected to close it on her way out, and the black nothingness that something might creep in through left him feeling skittish. He rolled back towards the window and tried to forget it. She’ll be back soon, nothing to worry about… she’ll be back soon, nothing to worry about… Forcing deep breaths staved off the urged to scream. He promised he’d be strong while she was gone… only three or four pages to go.

To my young lieges,

It’s great to hear how much you’re improving! Simply seeing you back on your feet brought promise, and learning that you’re running again made my day. And to begin to study magic too? Grust’s clerics and curates have already demonstrated the value magic holds; and now, you will be the first royals to practice it! There’s been ample chatter over what you might accomplish since I broke that news. Stay the path, my young lieges. I’m sure your forefathers will be proud of you.

As for myself, I wish I could say I was looking forward to the coming months. What Olbern Keep offers in safety it sacrifices in comfort… the air gets musty with the limited window space. It’s only May and the heat already leaves it sweltering… I dread the summer months.

Nevertheless, Grust’s reconstruction must go on. To ease our kinsmen’s worries I’ve been keeping open communications with King Hardin and Princess Nyna. A few officials propose ideas that wouldn’t sit well with our kingdom – many Grustian officials have returned to work, but as regent the Archaneans frequently ask for me. Answering them all can be exhausting… but, you’ve read my rambling for long enough. Know that you remain in our thoughts and we look forward to your eventual return.

Take care, Your Highnesses.

General Lorenz Garnier
Interim Regent of the Kingdom of Grust

Stay the path, he says… but could he make his forefathers proud? Jubelo wasn’t so sure… not when he couldn’t manage his magic. Trying to cast cautiously resulted in nothing, not even sparks. Only throwing his weight behind it yielded results, and they were results he couldn’t control. Meanwhile, Yuliya forged ahead without complaint and was beginning to get a grasp of staffs. It was the same as they’d always been: he was the runt who relied on his sister to watch out for him. She might as well take the throne, but she would never agree to it, insisting that he had to be Grust’s next King and Commander. He felt caught between a rock and a hard place, and it weighted heavily on his mind.

His lapses in attention did not go unnoticed. “Um, Prince Jubelo?”

“Huh?” Jubelo snapped back to reality and looked towards the board. “Uh, present, Merric.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Uh, yeah. You were discussing wind magic, and, um… I, didn’t quite catch it…”

“Is there something on your mind, Prince?” he asked, taking a seat next to Jubelo. “Master Wendell’s caught me zoning out during lectures before, and you had that same distant look in your eyes.”

“Um, yeah… I… I, don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

“Would this have to do with your accident the other day?” He nodded his head with a tight, crumpled frown, as if about to cry. Merric patted his shoulder and softly instructed, “Take deep breaths, Prince. Let it all out. Hold nothing in… it’s how I learned to calm myself when I’m feeling stressed.”

Jubelo did as asked, taking inhales and exhales that lasted several seconds apiece. He could feel tears flow down his cheeks and his windpipe choked shut, creating short pops in his breathing rhythm. But he did not sob or lose his breath completely, and he felt a lot lighter when they slowed. He rolled back his neck and shoulders, wiped his face clean with his sleeve and looked back at Merric.

“Feeling better?” The prince nodded. “Good! Sometimes you have to stop fighting it and go with the flow. You’d be surprised how easily weight rolls off your shoulders when you let it.”

“Ah… thanks Merric, I’ll remember that.”

“There’s nothing wrong crying when you need to… I-I’d hate to do it in front of others, though…” he admitted sheepishly. “And there’s nothing wrong with your magic! Every caster makes mistakes when he or she first tries. Trust me, we all have a story to tell.”

“All of you? Even Master Wendell?”

“Mhm! He told me how he burned a finger long ago when he first started. It’s something he frequently told first-years after they had similar mishaps,” Merric explained before pulling Excalibur from his bag. “And when I first tried casting Excalibur, I went… a little overboard with it.”

Jubelo tilted his head in curiosity.

“I knocked over an expensive vase, cut some curtains and took off some of Arlen’s locks. He wasn’t hurt thankfully, but he wouldn’t speak to me for a week! My parents weren’t happy about it either, since the pontifices charged me for the damages… luckily, that’s in the past now. Within a month I had mastered it, and now we make a formidable team!”

“Then, you think I could be formidable with my magic one day?”

“Well of course! Based on what Master Wendell and Arlen say, you could become a very powerful sage!” Merric noticed a falter in his expression. “That’s what you want, right?”

“Y-yes, but… I don’t know how well I can control it. I’ve always been pretty meek, and… knowing I have this power at my fingertips it… it, feels more like punishment than a gift,” he confessed.

“Patience Prince, we all follow our own learning curves. I’ve seen peers who started strong but ran into plateaus, or only flourish after a few years of struggling. Give it a chance and you’ll find your spark,” Merric encouraged. “What matters most is that you believe in yourself. It’s up to you to make meaningful progress, but we’ll show you it’s a journey worth taking.”

“All right… I’ll, I’ll try my best. Thanks Merric.”

“Great!” He stood back up and asked, “Now that I have you attention again, shall I take it from the top?”

“Yes, that would be good. But first, I have a question… about Arlen.”

“You’ve been wondering about his absence these last few days?” After receiving a nod, he explained, “Master Wendell suspending him from teaching for a while. He needs to understand the gravity of his actions, that’s what Master said. But rest assured, Arlen does want to get back to teaching you! Once Master is sure he won’t try to force you again, he’ll be allowed to return to your lessons.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you, Merric… all right, let’s begin.”

“Absolutely!” Merric took the eraser and wiped the board clean, then pulled up his lesson script. “It’s best we start with a clean slate. Now see here, Prince. Wind is a curious element…”

Next week the prince’s lessons with Arlen resumed as promise, and he settled back into a familiar rhythm. Merric’s gentle disposition helped in some circumstances, but his peer’s stricter approach often hammered the material in deeper. While Master Wendell’s scolding had clearly worn down his rougher edges, there remained a sense of expectation that wouldn’t be dulled by Jubelo’s worries. It gave him a sense of strength that was less pronounced in Merric’s teachings.

Though wary of both her brother’s tutors, Yuliya was pleased to see a flicker of confidence. He still protested her reading past bedtime but was more tolerant of it, and even indulged it himself a few nights! At the same time her own studies progressed nicely; difficult as it was to channel the same care she directed towards her brother, the staff began responding to her prayers more often. Truth to be told she had hoped for more… although she was practicing regularly, progress was slow. If Jubelo could learn to keep his head straight and tap that great power of his, he might pull ahead… proud as it would make her, it also inspired a tinge of envy. It was bad enough Maria constantly butted in to “help”…

May turned to June, and with the weather at its hottest they spent most of their time indoors. Master Wendell, Merric and Arlen brought her brother to the pontifices’ black magic library the previous day, to show him what he might eventually learn. He said it was fascinating to see how broad the field was, and Yuliya hoped to see it herself someday. Today, she and Maria toured the white magic library, which held vast shelves of texts and an assortment of staffs.

Wendell removed one with a brassy shaft and a silvery, ovoid bulb flanked by prongs. “This here is a Barrier staff, although some insist it be called Ward.” A curt, quiet nod from Helen suggested she was one such person. “It can augment an ally’s resistance to magic, but the effect fades over time. Quite handy if you find yourself facing enemy mages!”

“Oh, I wielded this before! It has such a beautiful casting effect… Princess Yuliya has to see it! May I try?” Maria pleaded.

“Sure!” he replied, offering her the staff.

“Thank you!” She accepted it and recited, “Nurturing Mother, please take us in your arms…”

In response to the princess’s prayer, the staff’s bulb began to glow a myriad of colors. A mosaic of soft flashes and flickers in every color of the rainbow… Maria then pointed the staff towards Princess Yuliya.

“Huh? Why are you- whuh, whoa!”

She jumped and flailed, staring down as her own body began to flash the same spectrum of colors. Sarah giggled and applauded lightly, whispering to Helen, “You know, this might be my favorite spell too!” Helen smirked and nodded.

The light show subsided and Maria drew it back. “There! Now if a stray fireball hits you it might just bounce off! What do you think?”

“It’s… a nice spell, I suppose.” Showoff…

Wendell took Barrier back and returned it to its slot. “Barrier is just one of the many spells you’ll have at your disposal with further training. We consider it somewhere between beginner and intermediate… Physic is another intermediate spell. It allows you to heal your allies from a distance,” he explained, pointing to a red-bulbed staff with a golden-brown vine wrapping up the top.

“Mhm,” Yuliya hummed. It was all very fascinating up front, but the back of her mind dwelled on other thoughts. Many of these staffs appeared to be for healing, undoing damage that was already done. Barrier offered protection, but only from magical threats… and then there were the more mundane ones, like Unlock. All these options might help alleviate danger in some form, but none of them could get someone out of danger.

A white noise broke her train of thought. She tilted her gaze towards the source and her eyes quickly homed in on a peculiar staff. It had a silver shaft with a pair of wing ornaments adorning the head, topped by a bulb that sat on a golden base with a second pair of wings. Its bulb was predominantly green but shone in other colors depending on the angle. Yuliya became fixated on the lustrous orb and its muted speckles across the spectrum… it had an ethereal beauty to it.

“And that there is… Yuliya?”

Lord Wendell and the others noticed her inattention– not that she paid them any heed. She stepped towards it without thinking, filled with a sudden urge to take it. Not borne of greed or jealousy, but to answer the staff itself… it’s as if it was calling to her, beckoning for her to pick it up.

“Princess, those are the advanced staffs. It takes great skill to… Princess Yuliya?”

She removed it from the rack and continued staring at the bulb. It looked even prettier up close… she could see her reflection in a jaded tint. The white noise gave way to… words? A prayer? Was the staff really telling her how to-

Helen had a bad feeling about this. She quickly stated, “Princess, you heard what Lord Wendell said. It’ll take years before you can-”

“Shush,” she responded, trying to concentrate. She shut her eyes and gripped the shaft tightly… the words became clearer.

She knew what she had to say. “Guardian angel from above… I see now…”

To everyone’s surprise the staff reacted to her. Its bulb radiated a bright green light and a spell circle of the same color opened on the floor in front of her. Sarah nudged Helen and muttered, “Does this mean, the Rescue staff… chose Princess Yuliya?”

“Naga help us,” she replied very quietly.

“Guardian angel from above, please answer my call. Let me reach out to the one I hold dear and bring him to safety… Rescue!”

A bright flash came zooming down from above and landed in the middle of the circle, depositing a teetering Prince Jubelo as the runes faded with it. “Whuh!? Wh-whoooa!”

“What the hell!?”

“Huh- what!?” He would have tumbled over if Maria hadn’t caught his hand. He glanced around the room after regaining balance, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “Huh? Where… Yuliya? How did I end up here?”

“I think it was this staff,” she answered, holding it out.

“Damnit, where did you go… Prince! Prince!!” The door could be heard slamming open as Arlen called, “Master Wendell, we have an emergency!”

“It’s alright Arlen, he’s-”

“It’s not alright Master! Prince Jubelo suddenly…” His frantic shouting ceased as he swung around the bookshelf and looked over the party. His panic faded once he laid eyes on his pupil, only to narrow them when he saw the peculiar staff the prince’s sister clutched. “Do I even dare ask?”

“It seems the Rescue staff has chosen Princess Yuliya as its rightful wielder,” Wendell explained.

“Wonderful,” he said with blatant sarcasm. “Well, Princess, I ask that you not steal my students in the future while I am busy teaching.”

“Hey, I didn’t know what it would do! I just felt like I had to try!”

Wendell stepped between them. “We’ll take it from here, Arlen. You and Prince Jubelo may return to your lesson.”

“Very well… come, Prince.”

“Uh, okay… I’ll see you later, Sister!” he peeped as he strode to follow him.

“Actually Arlen, one more thing.”

He poked his head out from around the shelf. Jubelo had to stop short to avoid running into him.

“Watch your language! There are children present,” his teacher warned sternly. Yuliya shot him a snide nod, and Miss Helen and Miss Sarah gave disapproving stares.

“Y-yes… apologies Master, Princesses.”

Yuliya looked back down and marveled at the Rescue staff. “So that’s what this can do…”

“Yes. Rescue is an advanced spell that can bring a distant ally close to the caster. It’s like a reverse Warp, but the staff is rarer and requires-”

“Hold that thought, Miss Helen.” She closed her eyes and raised it again. “Guardian angel from above…”

“Sigh… here we go again…”

Wendell reached out. “Princess Yuliya, please-”

“Shh, I’m just getting a feel for it.” She recalled seeing a vision of her brother before completing the spell; this time instead of jumping to conclusions, she concentrated on the process. Now it was clearer... she could see and hear him following Arlen back to her room. With a thought she was able to pan out and get a bird’s eye view of the whole floor – incredible!

She lowered the staff and opened her eyes with a look of wonder. “Amazing… I can observe any corner of this floor from in here.”

“Well, yes. It would be difficult to cast Rescue effectively if you could not see your target, I imagine,” Wendell speculated. “However, I want to reiterate what Arlen and Miss Helen said: the Rescue staff is not a toy. Its power is not to be taken lightly.”

“At least promise us you won’t use it outside of lessons without permission. It would be rude to invade our privacy,” Helen requested, Sarah adding a concerned nod.

Yuliya bowed. “I will not misuse its power. As Princess of Grust, and your guest, it would set a poor example for my kingdom.”

“At least that’s settled,” Sarah whispered, Helen replying with her own hopeful nod.

“I’d still like to continue practicing with it, though. There might be even more I can do with it…”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. After all, the staff chose your hands to wield it.”

“Great! Then I’ll…” Yuliya paused when the full gravity of Master Wendell’s words finally sank in. Her cheeks brightened and the corners of her mouth curved upwards into a gaping, exuberant grin. “Y-you mean, this is mine? I can have it!?”

“Of course! It’s yours by right, Princess. Take good care of it.”

“Absolutely, sir! I, I promise it’ll be a staff fit for a princess! …Ohmygosh, I can’t believe it, this is actually happening,” she gushed, gawking at her own starry-eyed reflection.

“Congratulations Yuliya! It must feel great to find you have a talent in white magic!” Maria commented.

“Why, of course! Great talent is to be expected of Grustian royalty. My mastery over this staff is but the first example,” she boasted proudly. Helen rolled her eyes.

“Aha, right… just don’t get too cocky. It’s only one staff that chose you. There are many others you’ll need to work your way up to wield.”

“We won’t know unless I try. May I see the Barrier staff, Master Wendell?” She temporarily handed Rescue to Maria so that she could hold it. “Nurturing Mother, please take us in your arms…”

Yuliya recited the spell as best she could and waved the staff towards Maria to no effect. She then rattled it vigorously for two seconds… still nothing.

Sighing, she returned it to Master Wendell. “All right, point taken.”

Arlen grabbed his lesson plan off the floor and flipped back to the page where he left off. He then turned back to the prince to continue the lecture; he sat quietly as usual, but his gaze was tilted down. It wasn’t hard to deduce the cause. “Your sister’s stroke of luck leaves you disappointed in yourself, correct?”

“I… uhm…” Jubelo glanced back up but shifted awkwardly to the side.

“Don’t be. That was a fluke of fortune. You don’t need it to be a great mage.”

He glanced back to meet Arlen’s eyes. “Huh?”

“Spells choosing their casters is a rare phenomenon. There have been more pontifices than there have been lucky-” Arlen recalled Master Wendell’s warning. “…individuals. Master Wendell has no such luck, and yet he is Khadein’s esteemed archbishop.”

“Is that so? … But, my power…”

“Yes. Talent manifests in different forms… you hold tremendous potential, Prince, but can you call yourself an expert? A ranking member of our school?”

“No! Of course not! I, I could never be… n-not in my current state, at least…”

“No you could not. Raw talent alone doesn’t make one an expert. It can only get you so far… at some point, everyone must buckle down and apply themselves. Eventually your sister will learn that too,” Arlen assured. “But find solace in this: others without your talents have made great strides in spite of it. I had to cultivate talent on my own merits and have mastered the Thoron spell through it. We can do it, and so can you.”

“Thoron? …That would be thunder magic, right?”

“Correct.” He set down his lesson plan and revealed a blue tome with a golden harpoon-shaped symbol adorning its cover. “It ranks among the rarest and strongest spells, second only to those such as Excalibur. Wielding it is one of the highest honors a mage can claim.”

“Really? Then, you must be quite proud of yourself.”

“That I am. I was not born as fortunate as others… it took over ten years of rigorous study to work my way up to it. Unlike that silver-spooned sod Merric…” He clenched his free fist bitterly and grumbled, “That reckless, lackadaisical fool was barely scraping advanced classes at the time. He isn’t even a full-fledged Khadeinian… what could’ve possessed Master Wendell to gift Excalibur to that Altean knave when others like me have dedic-”

Arlen stopped his rant when he spied the prince staring with fright over the edge of his notebook. He then registered a crackling noise and a slight tingle in his right hand – after slipping it behind him he wrung it to dispel the sparks. “Sorry Prince, that wasn’t directed at you … please don’t tell Master Wendell about this.”

Jubelo lowered his notebook and cautiously nodded.

“Good… anyway.” He stowed Thoron in his bookbag and picked up the lesson plan. “Shall we pick up where we left off, or do you need me to repeat anything?”

Chapter Text

“Are you coming to bed, Yuliya?”

“Just a minute, Brother,” she replied, thoroughly wiping the bulb of her Rescue staff. To say she was thrilled to receive it was an understatement… she absolutely adored it! She took Master Wendell’s words to heart, carrying it wherever she went and polishing it every night before bed.

Her attachment was starting to wear on Jubelo’s nerves. “Yuliya, one day isn’t going to soil it. Not when it’s too hot to go outside.”

“So what? Our knights put in the effort to keep their equipment in tip-top condition, even in peacetime. I’m following their example.” She removed the cloth and gazed into its bulb, smiling when she saw her faint reflection. “Perfect! I think we’re about ready for bed!”

Jubelo quietly rolled his eyes as she climbed into bed and slipped under the covers, staff in tow. “You don’t have to sleep with it… um, you might get it dirty if, uh…”

“It’s for safe-keeping, okay?”

No one’s going to steal it with Master Wendell around… He flipped onto his other side.

“You’d understand if a tome chose you to wield it. Keep studying and you might see that day,” she insisted, settling into her pillow with the staff cradled in her arms. “Good night, Jubelo.”

“Good night, Yuliya.” He then grumbled, “Good night, Rescue staff…”

“Huh? What was that?”

Jubelo faked a cough and cleared his throat. “Ah, Ahem! Ah… sorry, I just had some phlegm.”

“Oh… well, let me know how you’re feeling in the morning, okay? If you’re getting sick, Master Wendell and the clerics must know.”

“Okay, Yuliya.”

Yuliya continued bringing it to bed until one night in early July, when a wild wyvern’s shriek roused them. In her hysterics she accidentally struck him in the forehead with it, leaving two faint red marks for the next half week. That was the final straw… after a scolding from Lord Wendell she was no longer permitted to sleep with it. Instead, he provided a small staff rack to leave it overnight. Fortunately she was content with stowing it close to her bedside, where she could plainly see it.

Come mid-July the prince’s wounds had healed, and his black magic studies continued. Arlen told him summer was the ideal time to practice fire magic, when the sun was at its strongest. Thus he studied diligently, hoping it’d be enough to convince Master Wendell to give him another chance.

“Growing flame, heed my words. Feel the warmth of my spirit, and…” Jubelo paused mid-recitation and peeped one eye open. “Like that?”

Arlen nodded. “Yes, now start over.”

He shut his eye, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to focus. It had to be from top to bottom, Arlen said. You can do this, Jubelo… “Growing flame, heed my words. Feel the warmth of my spirit, let it be the ember that gives you life…”

“And the last verse?”

He opened his eyes and nervously asked, “Uh, let it be the Ember?”

“Your Ember. One more time, and show me the motions. Like you mean it.”

Jubelo repeated his preparation exercises, but this time he held his notebook in one hand – a substitute for the tome. He held his other hand close to his chest, then extended it halfway as he recited the spell once more: “Growing flame, heed my words. Feel the warmth of my spirit, let it be the ember that gives you life… … let it be your Ember!”

He winced after the final verse, only taking a peep after a few seconds passed… he calmed down after seeing his hand empty.

“Relax. You are not yet capable of conjuring unaided. Without the catalyst nothing will come of it.”

“Ah…” He could still feel a rapid pulse in his left ear.

“However…”

A new sense of dread surfaced when his instructor revealed a real Ember tome.

“Your form has improved considerably. If you can reproduce it with one then it should yield fine results.” Arlen held it to him and requested, “Let’s give it a try.”

Jubelo took a step back. “W-w-wait, Arlen! You know what Master Wendell said-”

“Master Wendell has not been present for all your lessons. Merric and I spend more time teaching you, and from what I’ve seen you are ready.”

“But-”

“Do you remember what I said about the books? Sometimes you have to go against them.” He thrust the tome forward lightly and insisted, “Take it.”

“B-but… I don’t know if I…”

“Do you want to be scared forever?”

“No, of course not! I just don’t think-”

“What would Princess Yuliya think?”

Jubelo paused. His stare eased from one of fear to contemplation and he slowly began reaching for it.

Arlen gave a lax smile as his words struck a chord with the prince. Time to make the most of it… “Think about it. Your sister longs to see you make progress. How proud would she be to learn that you conjured fire successfully?”

“She, would be proud…” He accepted the book but inquired, “But, are you sure I won’t…”

“It’s what you’ve been training for, Prince.” Arlen’s smile receded back to his usual expression. “All those repetitions and breathing exercises we walked you through weren’t for nothing. They provide a base for you to draw on. Keep them in mind and I’m confident you’ll maintain control.”

“…And if not?”

“It’ll be enough to stall another backfire, and I’ll step in to take it off your hands if you start to falter.” He took a step back and maneuvered in front of the door. “Whenever you’re ready, Prince.”

Jubelo stared down at the Ember tome warily before glancing up at Arlen, who watched him intently. His gaze was stern and severe, and he said nothing… while the strict patience made him nervous, it also inspired confidence. He believes I can do it… and when Yuliya hears I did… The prince nodded rapidly, then took a deep breath to dispel his fears. He flipped the tome open to the first page, held his hand to his chest and closed his eyes. “Growing flame, heed my words.”

Arlen grinned as he extended his hand out, a small orange flow already beginning to flicker. Good.

“Feel the warmth of my spirit… let it, be the ember, that gives you life…”

The heat above his palm was starting to make Jubelo nervous. Arlen’s confidence also wavered as the flame grew more quickly, and dangerously so. He tiptoed towards the prince, careful not to disturb his incantation but ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.

“A-and… let it… let it be your Emb…” The heat from the intensifying flame was too great, and it coaxed him to open his eyes… his arms jittered as he fought the urge to panic. “…aaah, aaaaah!”

“I got it Prince!” Arlen exclaimed, scooping the fire out of Jubelo’s hand and juggling it between his, trying to quell the flames. “Ha, ha, come on, come on… relax, burn down…”

Jubelo dropped his tome and crouched with his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”

“Prince, you did nothing wrong! … Look, I got it under control!”

“Eh? …Is, is it out?”

“Not yet, but it’s under control. Now-”

“W-well, what are you waiting for? Put it out!”

“Not until you open your eyes and look at me!”

“I can’t! Please, just put it out!”

“Prince, quit your-” Arlen stopped himself and took a deep breath. Of course that won’t work… refocusing his thoughts, he inquired, “Prince Jubelo von Grunia. You said earlier you didn’t want to be afraid of magic forever, is that correct?”

“I… yeah, but…”

“If you truly want to overcome your fear, then you must learn to face it. Now stand up and open your eyes. You must see this,” he calmly ordered. “I won’t extinguish it until you do.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jubelo slowly rose to his feet, turned towards Arlen and slipped the fingers in front of his eyes apart. He cautiously opened his right eye… there he was, slightly disheveled and holding the fireball. “It… it’s smaller?”

“Yes. It’s under my power now, but you saw how brightly it burned in your hands. A proud flame that would be the envy of any first-year.”

He lowered his hands and let his shoulder sink. It appeared weaker and more stable now… almost like the candles that helped him and Yuliya sleep at night.

“I was not blessed with such talent, nor am I the steadiest of spell hands. For all that I belittle Merric’s whimsies, he has become more coordinated…” Arlen admitted. “Even so, I was able to wrest this flame from your hands and mold it into something more manageable.”

The prince quietly watched, tension continuing to drain as he followed Arlen’s words.

“You were born with great talent, Prince, possibly an affinity for fire magic. Untrained it is a dangerous gift, but if I can bring a flame borne of that gift to heel, so can you. With enough conditioning you too will learn to tame it; and once you are its master…”

Jubelo flinched when he gently tossed the fireball into the air but relaxed after it fizzled into smoke. “Is… will it really be that easy?”

“Easy, no. Studying magic is no easy feat. But each level builds upon the last, and in time the lower rungs will become trivial. However, once you conquer one level the next presents a fresh challenge… and you must be ready to face it all over again. That’s why we’re going to continue these practical exercises.”

“Um, continue? Are you sure…”

“You almost had it today. It’s only a matter of time… there’s no more sense in turning back now.”

“Um…” Jubelo was hesitant to agree… close as it was, that was still terrifying.

Arlen mulled it over and came up with a compromise. “Once per lesson.”

“Huh?”

“We will continue to focus on lectures, but you will show me fire once before each lesson ends. I will accept no less,” he emphasized, holding one finger up. “Once, and I will no more of you until you are ready. Do we have a deal, Prince?”

“Um… all right. Deal… did that count as today’s?”

“Of course.” He knelt down, picked up the tome and brought it back to his bookbag. “Although you fell short of full control, it was fine progress. If we continue you-”

Arlen paused when he heard the whoosh of a Rescue spell behind him. His face tightened into a scowl after turning back around and seeing the prince’s absence. Of fucking course.

With an exasperated sigh he stepped out of the classroom, walked to the adjacent room, knocked on the door and then let himself in. “Can I have my student back, Princess?”

Sarah retorted, “First you have some explaining to do. What did we just hear about once a session?”

Arlen fell silent and glanced around the room… basked in intense looks and one Helen short. Shit.

Maria chastised, “Arlen, Lord Wendell told you not to push Jubelo again until he’s ready!”

“It’s okay Maria, I’m fine!” Jubelo interjected.

“Huh? But, Jubelo-”

“He walked me through the steps and took it away before I got burned. It’s okay… I, I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.”

Arlen took another look around – all the girls’ fierce expressions had been replaced with surprise. Most striking of all was Princess Yuliya, her usual judgmental glare completely absent. She appeared the most relaxed out of all of them… in fact, she didn’t look angry in the slightest…

“Arlen!”

He snapped back to reality and whipped around upon hearing Master Wendell’s voice and came eye to eye with the archbishop’s own furious glare. Just behind him Helen was quietly glowering.

“I warned you about the dangers of coaxing out his magic too early, and yet you defy me again!?”

“Wait, wait Master Wendell! It’s alright!” Jubelo pivoted past Arlen to come to his defense, holding out his palms. “Look, I didn’t get hurt this time!”

Wendell observed his hands. “Oh?”

“None of us healed him,” Yuliya affirmed, creeping out behind Arlen. “All I did was pull him away after I heard them talking.”

“Hm?” He gave his apprentice a suspicious glance and asked, “Is that true, Arlen?”

“…Yes, it’s all true, Master.” Arlen was a bit slow on the uptake – Master Wendell’s arrival left him sweating – but he explained, “I, walked him through the motions, and asked him to try again. He produced a more stable flame this time, and I removed it before he lost his cool.”

“Yes, that’s what happened. Arlen says he wants to see it again once a session… and, I think I’m ready to try practicing now.”

Wendell remained silent for a few seconds, then tilted back towards Helen. “Thank you for informing me about this, Miss Helen. You and the princesses can return to your usual lesson.”

“Of course, Master Wendell… pardon me,” she said as she slipped past the crowd. Her tone directed a hint of venom towards Arlen.

Wendell then stepped towards the other classroom and motioned for them to follow. “Come, we shall finish the Prince’s lesson. No more practical exercises today… and Arlen, we will talk about this later.”

“…Yes, Master. Come, Prince Jubelo.”

The archbishop sat in on the remainder of Jubelo’s lessons, only intervening once to clear up a misconception. Arlen could tell his teacher was very cross with him, a constant serious demeanor whenever they made eye contact. After the twins retired for the night he summoned both his students to discuss what had transpired that day. Arlen knew it would be to punish and deter him – that became apparent when Master Wendell demanded a full recollection of the events. But the progress he saw today emboldened him, and he would stand his ground.

“I told him there would be no turning back. When he appeared unsure I offered to limit it to once per lesson, and he agreed to that. I was putting away the tome when Princess Yuliya stole him away,” he concluded. “That was everything before you arrived. Any questions?”

“Why,” Wendell demanded. “Why did you see fit to disobey my orders? You shared in the consequences once, how was that not enough?”

“Consequences can’t deter us forever, Master. We all run into issues controlling magic when we begin.”

“This is different, Arlen. It’s been a long time since I encountered a student with this kind of innate power, if I’ve ever.”

“So? That didn’t stop you from letting Merric whip up a storm with that blasted Excalibur spell!”

Merric protested, “Hey, I’d never experienced magic that powerful before! And, well…”

“Merric also had experience casting spells before. That’s not something we can say of the Prince,” Wendell added. “And might I remind you this is about more than him. I specifically requested you not to push him too quickly, and twice now you didn’t listen!”

“Prince Jubelo wants to improve, Master Wendell, but fear leaves him hesitant. He has to receive a push at some point,” Arlen insisted, arms crossed. “Merric and I preside over his lessons more than you do, and I saw his form improving. I decided he was ready to try again, and he proved me right.”

Wendell’s lip wibbled in agitation. “Do you truly have no shame!?”

“Not this time. It’s taken extra practice, but the Prince is becoming more capable. I saw it with my own eyes today, and so has Princess Yuliya.”

“Did you…” Merric’s jaw dropped when he nodded. “Outside of class!?”

Master Wendell was fuming. “ARLEN!”

“It was by HER WISHES,” he emphasized while raising a hand to his master.

“Bwuh- … You mean to tell me-?”

“I do. After our lesson she demanded a private demonstration. Prince Jubelo agreed to it and Princess Maria was there as well. I walked him through the steps, he cast another Ember spell and I removed it when he began to falter. He held it longer than last time,” he explained. “It was a small improvement from earlier, and I emphasized that… the Princess was just as satisfied as we were. She told me to keep doing what I was doing, but don’t overdo it.”

Master Wendell did not respond.

“Your call, Master. I won’t disobey you again if you’re adamant about this, but it’ll be on your shoulders if they’re disappointed about it.”

Wendell gave a weary sigh. “I’m disappointed with you, Arlen. Even if you had good intentions, you still took a great risk.”

“I know, and I’m taking a risk with you too,” Arlen replied. “But and Merric have you emphasized the importance of trust time and time again. I think it’s time you took your own advice and place some of that trust in me.”

“I… sigh… you’re not giving in on this, are you.” He meditated on it a moment and decided, “All right. I will allow it.”

“Thank you, Mast-”

“On one condition!” he exclaimed to silence his student. “You will not lead him through it alone. Merric and I will be present the first few times, and once I am comfortable you may lead him with only one of us. But he is not to practice without another witness.”

“I would be alright with that. What about you, Arlen?”

“…If that is what it takes, then so be it,” he agreed with a nod. “Now then, there is something else we need to discuss…”

“Is it Princess Yuliya’s use of the Rescue staff?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Master, you’ve got to do something about that girl casting willy-nilly!”

“Arlen, she’s only had it for little over a month! It’s only natural for her to want to flex her capabilities,” Merric reasoned. “Give her time and she’ll mellow out.”

“You haven’t had your student spirited away in the middle of a lecture, Merric! I’ve had it happen to me five times now!”

“Well, if you took time to gain her trust, she might not…”

“You’ll be happy to know we have a reprieve, Arlen. Princess Yuliya’s constant use has exhausted her staff. She was quite upset when she came to me today… I told her to give it time, it’ll regain its charge like a field left to fallow.”

With a sigh he remarked, “Well, that solves that.”

“Poor Princess… maybe we could show her how to recharge her staff?”

“Sure, great idea Merric! Then she can slave away over it and knock herself out cold for a month,” Arlen sarcastically retorted.

“Arlen, I was being serious!”

“I don’t agree with Arlen’s choice of words, but he’s right Merric. Princess Yuliya is very attached to that staff, she would go to such lengths to restore its power. Recharging advanced magic at such a young age would cause tremendous strain,” Master Wendell explained. “I forbade our clerics from even covering that art in her lectures. Princess Maria does not yet know the techniques, and we’ll have to teach her in private on that same condition.”

“But Master, that could take months… surely you could aid her a little?”

“Merric, she needs a lesson in patience.”

“That she does, although I could say the same for you,” Wendell warned, rising from his armchair. “But I believe we’ve said enough tonight. Arlen, please promise me you won’t jump ahead in your lesson plan again without my consent.”

Arlen stood and bowed. “I’ll promise you that. Thank you for hearing me out… good night, Master.”

“Good night, Arlen!”

“Yes… good night, Merric…”

While Master Wendell and Merric headed to their bedrooms, Arlen walked towards the kitchen. He could use a cup of cool tea to unwind before bed… he poured one serving into a cup and downed it in a few gulps. Then he drew water from a second jug and used half to rinse his mouth; the rest would quench him when he felt thirsty overnight. All that remained was to douse the candle and he too could retire for the night…

“What’s the situation?”

He stopped and turned to meet Grust’s princess standing under the archway in her nightgown. She kept the Rescue staff firmly in her grip as usual, although the bulb appeared dull and lifeless… Master Wendell was telling the truth about it being spent.

“About my brother’s lessons. What’s the situation?” she repeated. “Come on, I don’t have all night.”

“I discussed it with Master Wendell and convinced him to allow it. He and Merric will be in attendance but our practice will continue as planned.”

“Good.”

“…If that was a compliment, you could sound more pleased.”

Her expression hardened. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like you. You’re still a grouchy jerk. But…” It relaxed again, more than before, as she continued. “But, I cannot deny what you’re doing is helping him… so, for now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But I’m warning you…”

“You’re not the only one. Master Wendell made it clear he doesn’t want me taking any more leaps with your brother,” he explained. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Text

To my young lieges,

I applaud you for due diligence despite being away from home for so long. Congratulations are in order for you especially, Princess Yuliya! After receiving your last letter I passed word amongst the court clerics, and all told me how rare an honor it is for a spell to choose its wielder. I’m proud of you for achieving such a rare feat, although I must advise you not to let it get to your head. Use your staff responsibly, continue your studies with the same fervor and I’m sure you will go far. And please, don’t be too hard on your brother… more on that below.

As for you, Prince Jubelo, I’m sorry to hear of your difficulties. But know that I have the same faith in you as Archbishop Wendell and his apprentices expressed in you. Our court bishops assured me that all mages go through learning pains when first picking up the trade. Consider it a rite of passage, if you will… with that knowledge, I pray you persevere in spite of your struggles. The archbishop tells me you too have a great talent waiting to be molded… the people of Grust look forward to seeing your results.

August fast approaches. The Archanean envoys look forward to cooler weather just as much as I… it’s one area we can confidently agree on. It’s been half a year since your recovery began, and soon it’ll be your twelfth birthday! I wish I could be there to celebrate with you, but I cannot leave our kingdom unattended. Sadly I haven’t thought about a birthday gift, but I’ll give it consideration before my next letter. In the meantime, perhaps Lord Wendell might be able to do something for you? If you’re reading this, Archbishop, their birthday is the twelfth of August. I do not mean to impose any obligations, but they and I would appreciate some form of acknowledgement. I’ll leave it up to your capable imagination.

Take care, Your Highnesses, and in advance, happy birthday!

General Lorenz Garnier
Interim Regent of the Kingdom of Grust

Something to consider indeed. The twins expressed an ounce of sorrow in addition to joy when they opened his letter… they didn’t know a birthday for the last three years. Lorenz’s words rang fresh in Archbishop Wendell’s memory as he attended his morning paperwork. It arrived last night, the eighth of August… he would have to think quickly on what to do for them. Maybe he could order a cake from the bakery, that wouldn’t take more than a day. And they could try to set up something special… Merric and Princess Maria might have ideas…

“Archbishop Wendell.”

“Hm?” Glancing up revealed the White Sage in front of his desk… an unexpected visitor. He immediately rose to bow and greeted, “Oh, good morning Lord Gotoh! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s of no serious concern, I merely needed a break from my role as Archanea’s archbishop.” He took a seat in the visitor’s chair, Wendell settling back into his own. “I hear high praise about your leadership from the Archaneans who sought to study here. Regardless, I wished to see my city again with my own eyes… it brings me joy to know its old luster is slowly returning. Apologies if my intrusion disturbed you.”

“It’s alright, I was only going through my usual morning routine. I welcome anything to make it less monotonous,” Wendell assured. “If I may, from archbishop to archbishop, how has your work been?”

“It’s as you say of yours, Lord Wendell, a routine. Most of my students don’t spark any particular interest… the only classes I enjoy are one-on-one sessions with Linde.”

“Oh? And I’m sure that must be like teaching her father all over again!”

“It will never be the same.”

Wendell was taken aback by his heavy tone, weighted by a sense of remorse. “…I’m sorry, Lord Gotoh.”

After a brief pause Gotoh continued, “Still, she carries a genuine passion to learn, albeit more out of reverence for her kin. She’s had a few hiccups with theory but flourishes in practical exercises.”

“Hiccups, you say?” Wendell giggled a little. “It’s unusual to hear such casual word choice from you.”

“Yes, I suppose being around those such as her and Prince Marth has softened my worldview after Gharnef froze it,” he admitted. “But enough of him. As I was saying, she makes great use of the gifts and lessons Miloah imparted on her. Fortuitously she has not been arrogant about it… praise I cannot extend to my rank-and-file students or subordinate teachers. Most believe practicing under me or under Archanea’s banner makes them a superior people… I needed a break from their hubris.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Khadein is a city beyond any land or kingdom’s borders.”

“Just as I designed… I’m grateful that out of all the bishops and pontifices who could have survived it was you, Lord Wendell. You’ve upheld Khadein’s principles and kept a level head despite your rapid promotion. I see this city is in good hands,” he commended.

“Please, Lord Gotoh! You’ll make me blush!” Wendell teased. “But if you don’t mind, how did you get here? I was certain I’d hear news if you were visiting.”

“My hiatus was a spur of the moment decision. I gave notice after yesterday’s classes, warped here this morning and shall return next week,” he explained. “Do you have reason to ask? I suspect an intent.”

“Yes, milord. You see, Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya are separating their twelfth birthday three days from now. It’s been four years since they last had a proper birthday…”

“And you would like me to send you over to Grust.” Wendell nodded. “Normally I would object to such frivolous Warp use, but for your services… and, in light of my own frivolity… I’ll allow it. You will have one day in their kingdom, to return by sunset. I can handle Khadein’s affairs in your place.”

Wendell bowed and replied, “Thank you, Lord Gotoh.”

“However, I feel the need to ask: have they ever been warped before?” Gotoh inquired.

“No, and you bring up a good point. Last time they were unconscious…” He mulled on it a moment. “I’ll have to consider how to go about it without frightening them. Let’s keep this a secret for now… say-”

“If you mean to asked if we are being watched, no. I would sense if such a spell was being aimed at us, and the halls are empty.”

“Ah, good…” It was a boon that Princess Yuliya took his Rescue rules seriously.

“Uuuuugh, is this really necessary?” Yuliya whined.

“Have patience Princess, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I forgo the proper precautions!”

Archbishop Wendell carefully guided the princess through Khadein’s halls by the hand, while Princess Maria led her brother. Both were blindfolded so that they could not see what would unfold, much to the former’s chagrin. It was a simple solution Merric proposed, as some Alteans used it to lead children to surprise parties. Merric walked ahead of the procession and quickly picked up the pace just before the final corner; he and Arlen were staying behind, but someone had to alert Lord Gotoh so that he could prepare the Warp spell.

“How much longer do we have to go? I don’t like walking around when I can’t see,” Jubelo said.

“Just a little longer and we’ll be at my office.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if we let you peek!” Maria remarked.

Yuliya retorted, “Where did you get the impression that we liked surprises?”

“You’ll love this one, trust me.” Wendell slowed to a crawl when they neared the office doorway so that Maria and Jubelo could pass through first. “We’re almost there.”

Gotoh had completed the incantation before they arrived. He whispered the final words to conjure a warp rune beneath them.

“Huh?” Yuliya and Jubelo registered a high-pitched ringing as the spell prime. “What’s going on!? What kind of trick are-”

A loud whoosh punctuated a flash of white that partially penetrated their blindfolds. Feeling briefly faded, and when it returned the air felt leagues more humid.

Huh? Why is it so… Jubelo was calmer about it than his sister. It felt similar to when she cast Rescue on him, which repetition had desensitized him to. He looked around after Maria removed the blindfold, emerging on a plot of land surrounded by lush green forests to the east, gray and brown mountains to the north, and deep blue waters surrounding their location.

Aggravated, Yuliya ripped off her blindfold and demanded, “Master Wendell, what did you do!?”

“Yuliya, look!”

“Not now Brother, I’m… I…”

Yuliya’s ire died down as Maria took her hand and spun her around. It was soon forgotten under a fresh sense of splendor… they stood before a modest, stony complex no greater than two stories. Olbern Keep was not built for fashion, but as a shelter it was second to none. Mountains to the north and west and water to the south made this plot of land difficult to approach from all angles; the east was most accessible, but narrow bridges made for an easy chokepoint. To Grust’s most distinguished families it was as much a hallmark of their kingdom as the more famous Grusthold.

“I… I’m… we’re back in Grust?”

“Surprise!” Wendell and Maria exclaimed. The former then added, “I thought we could do something special for your birthday, so-”

“THANK YOU!”

Yuliya threw herself against Wendell into a tight hug, tears of joy forming in the corner of her eyes. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou…” Jubelo quietly slipped in to join them… Wendell patted them gently on the backs, happy to see they enjoyed their surprise.

“Hey! What are you all… Prince Jubelo!? Princess Yuliya!?”

Maria looked over her shoulder to the keep’s entrance, where a few guards emerged to assess the situation. One with wavy blonde hair and a gray coat approached to assess the situation; he held a bow in his left hand and had a sword around his waist, but neither was drawn.

“I, uh, wasn’t aware you would be visiting so suddenly…” He looked to the bishop and asked, “Would you happen to be Archbishop Wendell?”

“Oh?” He glanced up to address the knight. “Yes, good sir. We were warped over from Khadein to celebrate the twins’ birthday in their homeland.”

Jubelo noticed the crest on his uniform. “That emblem… are you with the Sable Order, sir?”

“That’s right! I’m Sir Roberto of the Sable Order! It’s nice to meet you, Prince and Princess,” he greeted with a bow. “I was delivering a report to General Lorenz on behalf of my-”

“Never mind that, General Lorenz is here, right?”

“Of course! He is carrying affairs as-”

“You will show him to us right away!” the Princess ordered, pointing with her staff.

“Oh, um… all right, if that is what the birthday girl wishes, follow me.”

Yuliya grabbed her brother’s hand and urged, “Come on Jubelo! Let’s pay the General a visit!”

“Uh, yeah! That sounds great!” he replied, surprised but sharing in his sister’s excitement.

Wendell happily watched as the twins followed Sir Roberto through the keep’s front gate, Maria following at a more casual pace. He took a moment to appreciate the greenery of Grust – and to fan his neck, as it was leagues more humid – before setting one foot forward to join them.

“Archbishop Wendell.”

He paused at the ethereal echo of Lord Gotoh’s voice. Turning to his right, he spotted a faint blue apparition of the White Sage; it was how he normally contacted others over long distances.

“Remember Archbishop, you have until sunset before I summon you back,” he reiterated.

Wendell nodded. “I understand, Lord Gotoh. It’ll come up when I explain our sudden appearance.”

“Good. Enjoy your day,” he bade before the apparition vanished.

With Lord Gotoh’s reminder behind him, Wendell followed the party into Olbern Keep. A trail of surprised pages, knights and servants led him through the complex’s unfamiliar halls to the stairwell leading to the second floor. Sir Roberto gave him further direction at the top of the stairs, sending him to a door thrown wide open… excited chatter grew louder as he approached. Inside Princess Yuliya and Prince Jubelo were speaking with the general while Princess Maria remained off to the side.

“Yes, it is a lovely staff, Princess,” he mused, peering into the Rescue staff’s bulb and receiving a faint reflection of his visage.

“It’s more than just beautiful! It can bring whomever I desire to my side in a flash, and in finding their location I can survey my surroundings!”

“Survey your surroundings? That sounds very useful indeed.”

“Uh-huh! Although…”

“Although?”

“I… Master Wendell told me I was overusing it, and it’s run dry… for now,” she admitted, her mood drooping. “He said it’ll come back, though.”

“Yeah, Master Wendell says it’ll regain its charge over time.” Jubelo glanced back and asked, “Isn’t that right, Master?”

“Right you are, Prince. Used staffs recover their power when left to fallow,” he answered, joining the twins in front of the general’s desk. “I apologize for the sudden arrival, General Lorenz. Coincidentally the White Sage arrived the day after I received your letter! With his magic I thought it was the perfect opportunity to pay you a visit, and I was able to extract the favor from him.”

“Ah, now I understand… thank you for your ingenuity, Archbishop, and please pass that same gratitude to Lord Gotoh,” Lorenz said, rising from his seat to shake the archbishop’s hand.

“Of course, General. I should advise you all though, this will only be a one-day affair. Lord Gotoh will bring us back to Khadein once sunset arrives.”

“All right, that would be for the best. As much as your return would delight us, I don’t think you’d enjoy it here… for all its fortifications, Olbern Keep is at the weather’s mercy. It becomes chilly in the winter months, and in the summer… whoof! Can you feel it?” He fanned his face with one hand, his rosy cheeks a strong indicator of what he had to endure.

“Yes, I feel it myself… if you’ll allow me, I can provide a temporary solution.”

Wendell opened the office window, brought out a green tome and began muttering a prayer. At his beck a strong breeze blew in through the window; Lorenz threw his arms over the paperwork on his desk, but the wind was absolutely invigorating. The twins and Maria felt similar relief, basking in the cool and refreshing air rushing past their faces. It circulated through the rest of the keep, expelling the hot musty air that its inhabitants suffered under with a cool reprieve.

He was short on breath when the process was finished; although he welcomed the cool air as much as everyone else, it was strenuous to maintain the spell for a few minutes. “Hah, hah, pardon me… at my age, casting a spell continuously can be quite, ah, taxing.”

“Hmm. I know that feeling whenever I train, Archbishop,” Lorenz assured. “Nevertheless, I am grateful that you would lend us your power to banish that awful musk, for the time being anyway.”

“Well what good is a birthday celebration where we’re all sweltering? This should be a joyous day for all!” he joked.

“Yeah, we should all be celebrating!” Yuliya paused for a moment and asked, “So… what now? Did you have any ideas for what to do with our time?”

“Um, not really… and with this surprise we couldn’t exactly plan anything,” Maria replied.

“How about a tour of the countryside? We have a carriage outside; take an escort and you’ll see how the surroundings villages are doing,” Lorenz suggested. “I’ll set you up with Sir Roberto. I have a few errands to attend but that should occupy you until the afternoon. We’ll treat you to an early supper so you can enjoy one good meal in your homeland. What do you say, Prince? Princess?”

“That will be satisfactory, General.” Jubelo merely nodded in agreement.

“Splendid. I look forward to hearing about your adventures later. Now, let’s set up that royal convoy!” he declared, leading the party out of his office.

Through the early afternoon the Prince and Princess toured the surrounding Olbern canton with Archbishop Wendell and Princess Maria. Their appearance was quite a surprise for the locals, with many flocking to the carriage when the two young royals emerged. It became a troublesome affair for Yuliya, who had to balance shielding her brother from excessive attention with goading him into some level of interaction. He was happy to see his people again, but being on the spot left him overwhelmed. Fortunately Lord Wendell alleviated some of the pressure, with many eager to hear from him, be it as Khadein’s archbishop or their little lieges’ caretaker.

The rest of their day was a more relaxed affair after returning to Olbern Keep. Supper was served when the sky’s late afternoon tint began to show and consisted of roasted beef and vegetables. A rich sauce was provided on the side to moisten the meat, with sweet pastries in lieu of anything fancier, like a cake. Wheat bread was also provided for those who wanted a plainer grain.

Maria swallowed a bite of pastry and remarked, “I was surprised to see Miss Lena’s grandfather in the village across the lake. I thought he lived closer to the Grusthold!”

“After the king’s passing Lord Farone wanted to move to a more secure location. I paid him a visit back in June; he relocated in early April,” the general explained.

“Lord Farone? Was he important before?” Jubelo asked.

“Yeah. Apparently he and Master Wendell were colleagues once, but he didn’t look very lordly. Until Master and Maria spoke to him I thought he was just another peasant… and, not to be rude, it seems like his senses are going,” Yuliya commented.

“Lord Farone attended Khadein’s school around the same time as I did and enrolled in the clerical trade. He was among the brightest in his class, and his talents earned the favor of the Hammerne staff his granddaughter now wields.”

“He was also an esteemed magistrate until the loss of his wife and daughter, after which he withdrew from politics to spend time with his granddaughter,” Lorenz added. “During that time, the two revisited their studies and found deeper meaning in its text. After Lena returned to Macedon he began offering his wealth and wisdom to those in need, giving away most of his estate in the process. Despite the more modest lifestyle, he has made peace with himself.”

“Huh… so that’s why he lives like a commoner.”

“Proper clerical work often gives you a new perspective on the other end of the social ladder,” Wendell stated, taking a piece of bread to sop up excess sauce. “You’d do well to consider their wisdom if you want to be effective leaders.”

“Yes, Princess Caeda told us similar: A king without his countrymen rules naught but hills.”

Lorenz smiled fondly at that phrase. “It is indeed a noble saying, Princess. However, you must also mind the meaning behind those words. Preaching without practice won’t win the faith of your subjects.”

“Um, yes. That is, true, sir…”

“It’s alright if you don’t yet understand the weight of my words. This has been your first step on Grustian soil in years. You and Prince Jubelo will have many more opportunities to interact with our people once you formally return.” He then tilted his head to Maria and inquired, “And speaking of Lady Lena… how has she been, Princess Maria? I understand you’ve been away from Macedon for a few months…”

“Oh, she’s doing great! Miss Lena’s been in touch with my sister and I! She joined a convent close to Macedon’s capital and has been caring for displaced orphans. Julian’s settled down in the adjacent village and visits her every day.”

“Ah, wonderful! I’m sure she’s setting a fine example for Grust and Macedon alike!”

Jubelo finished processing a bite of roast beef and swallowed it. “Julian? Who’s that?”

“Julian’s an ex-thief she met in eastern Archanea. He’s also from Macedon and they’ve been close ever since he helped her escape bandits.”

Yuliya raised an eyebrow. “She associates with a thief? And if I recall, convents are not normally the home of nobility, except those who relinquished their titles…”

“Yes, well, as much as I’d call Miss Lena a model cleric, she has her quirks. She doesn’t follow her teachings as a cleric or a noblewoman to the letter. Like, she has no scruples with others’ backgrounds, and, er…” Maria hastily glanced around the room, indecisive on whether to tell her story. “General, this is a private dinner, right?”

“Yes Princess Maria, I’ve asked the castle staff to leave us be unless summoned. Whatever secrets you may divulge will be safe with us.”

“Oh, phew! In that case…” Her cheeks folded up into a devious smile as she explained, “Have you heard the tale of the Scarlet Angel who robbed Archanea’s palace a few years ago?”

Jubelo nearly spit out his next bite. Yuliya’s jaw dropped. “That was her!?”

Her brother forced the food down. “Gulp… cough! Really!? She raided Archanea’s palace?”

“Yup! She wanted to help out the poor in those trying times, and she was close to Pales when the invasion started to break through. So she gathered a small crew, plotted a heist and made off with valuables during the chaos.”

To say they were taken aback was an understatement; a woman of the cloth turning to plunder at Archanea’s most desperate hour, let alone the royal palace? It was so bold, brazen, unthinkable for one devoted to the gods’ teachings… at the same time, a sense of awe welled up inside Yuliya. Kingdom Archanea’s nobility had a reputation for excess and undeserved pride – Lady Lena actions were meant to benefit the poor, but did she also intend to stick it to those selfish bluebloods? If so, that made it even better! Serves those haughty pretenders right for looking down on the true nobles who oversaw their so-called “vassal” kingdoms!

Lorenz noticed the stars in the princess’s smile. “I take it the Princess would like to know more?”

“Yes, tell us everything! …uh, please! I want to hear all about Miss Lena’s adventure!”

“Oho! Well I’m sure Princess Maria will be happy to tell you all she knows!” He rose from his seat and requested, “In the meantime, Archbishop, will you walk with me? I believe our young lieges could use some time to themselves.”

“Oh? Of course, General.” He quickly wiped his mouth before departing his seat. “Pardon us, Your Highnesses. We’ll be back shortly.”

While holding the door for Lord Wendell, Lorenz glimpsed the twins fixed on Princess Maria as she began to recount Lady Lena’s tale. It was a joy seeing they had someone of their age and station to socialize with during their extended stay at Khadein. He closed the door to the west wing behind him, confident they would be content with Maria’s story in their absence… little did he notice Princess Yuliya glancing suspiciously towards said door and shushing her companions once it was shut.

Wendell’s eyes wandered towards the window as they passed; it was difficult to see with the intensity of the sunlight pouring in. By bringing up his fingers as a filter, he saw the sun was still several degrees clear of the horizon. “We should have plenty of time to spare.”

“Good. The last thing I wanted was a rushed dinner,” Lorenz replied. “I take it you are enjoying the accommodations as well, Archbishop?”

“Certainly! Usually when I make excursions for leisure I spend my time in Macedon. It was a welcome change of pace to visit Grust for once, and your staff have been very accommodating!”

“Tis the least we can do to repay you for taking care of the children.”

“And warding off that miserable summer air.”

“Oho yes, that too… but we can continue with the pleasantries later.” Lorenz opened a door to one of the keep’s side rooms and motioned for Wendell to enter with a more serious tone. “There is something I must discuss with you.”

“Hm?”

He closed the door behind them and admitted, “I haven’t been completely honest in my letters, Lord Wendell. It concerns the Archaneans… I alluded to my people’s mistrust, and unfortunately their worries are coming to pass.”

“Is that so? What’s going on?”

“I’m receiving reports of the envoys and their soldiers exerting undue authority over the masses. Some act like they’re in charge, pushing for changes that put them above the people of Grust,” he explained. “When I brought this up with the head official, he berated me for not keeping my people in line! Were I as uncivilized as he said I would have floored him on the spot! …Instead, I wrote to the king and had him removed from the station. Sadly the second official was no better; my Sable Order knights provide me independent reports for verification, and I can see they’re falsifying details. It seems they caught on to this; I’m receiving demands for less oversight by my knights.”

“Oh my, that’s no good…”

“Not in the slightest. I’ve already sent his resignation letter but I fear the replacement will be even worse.” Lorenz clutched his face and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have to remind King Hardin this was not an invitation to colonize. For Ordwin’s sake, he already uprooted Aurelis’s oppressive system!”

“Colonizing? That is very concerning, General… but why would you keep this from us?”

“I didn’t want to trouble Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya while they were away. I had hoped this would be a one-off problem and it would only take one changing of the guard to fix, but alas…”

“I understand your concerns, General Lorenz. It’s rather early for them to face such a complicated political situation, especially with the years they lost. But even so, this is their kingdom and they must be prepared to meet its challenges. If something was amiss, you should have informed us earlier.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“Princess!?”

A wave of dread washed over Lorenz when he heard Yuliya’s voice. Slowly he turned around and opened the door to meet the young princess, tapping her foot with a disappointed glare and her staff in hand. Prince Jubelo and Princess Maria stood behind her, the former looking slightly upset. “You… heard all that? I, uh, thought your staff was broken, Princess…”

“I thought so too, but I had to try. Just in case it regained enough power for this.”

Wendell observed the bulb as she held it out and saw a faint flicker of activity. “Yes, it appears to be recovering its power. But you remember what I told you about-”

“Yes, but it’s my birthday!” she protested before correcting herself. “Well, mine and the Prince’s. We’re in our kingdom’s land on our special day. I think that warrants an exception.”

Jubelo took a step forward and said, “Yuliya’s right, General Lorenz. This is our land, and we should know what’s going on. Please don’t keep secrets like this from us anymore.”

“Prince, Princess… I, apologize,” he replied, kneeling and lowering his head. “I only meant to protect you while you were preoccupied with your studies.”

“Well, we’re not innocent anymore. We lived through three years of hellish darkness and haven’t set foot in Grust until today. We miss our home, and Master Wendell’s right: someday Jubelo and I will have to take responsibility for our land’s problems.”

“Yeah, and some of the villagers we spoke with alluded to it. They seemed frightened when Archanean soldiers passed by… so, Yuliya and I figured something was up,” the prince added.

“Yes, I suppose while you are still children, you’ve been inching closer to adulthood… forgive me for underestimating you. I should have known better.” He glanced to Princess Maria, who was accompanying the Archanean League on their warpath this time last year.

Yuliya nodded. “We forgive you Lorenz. You’ve been doing a good job standing up for the people of Grust in our stead. They have nothing but praise for you… but no more lies! You will keep us informed of the Kingdom of Archanea’s meddling fully and honestly.” She lowered the Rescue staff’s bulb over his right shoulder and barked, “That is an order!”

Jubelo joined her with one hand on the staff’s shaft. “Y-yes! That’s an order from me too!”

Lorenz chuckled and cracked a smile. “Hahaha, I see you two are already growing into the role!”

“Of course! The twelfth birthday is an important milestone in many of the kingdoms! Not as important as the fourteenth or sixteenth, but it’s up there,” Maria mentioned.

“Well then, I have high hopes for you two on your fourteenth birthday.” He opened his arms as they lowered the staff and invited them into a hug. “All right, no more lying. From now on, you’ll have honest reports of what Archanea is doing within our kingdom.”

“Good. We’re counting on you, General!”

General Lorenz Garnier – Veteran Defender

While Camus was renowned across the continent as the strongest knight alive – possibly in generations – spend time in Grust and you’d learn that General Lorenz enjoys similar fame. As its oldest serving general even before the War of Shadows, his exploits solidify him as a national hero well past his prime. Perhaps his most famous tale was his nation-building expedition in Talys, where he helped Mostyn establish the kingdom for little in return. Despite his fame, he remains down to earth and is always willing to share his wisdom with the next generation. He especially has a soft spot for children, with the young heirs treating him like a grandfather.

With the king dead of illness and Prince Jubelo too young and inexperienced to succeed the throne, Lorenz accepted the regency until he is ready. He has also accepted Archanean in reconstructing Grust, but there have been complications… some officials seem intent on snatching power. He’s had to ask for replacements more than once, but each is worse than the last… Mostyn told him decades ago that if he ever needed a favor, he need only ask. He never anticipated such a day would come, but if things don’t improve it might be time to collect on that promise.

Chapter Text

The White Sage’s hiatus was a boon. Although he refused to teach lessons, he worked diligently to organize the school’s affairs and showed Wendell how to better manage them. It gave the archbishop time to teach a few classes, a luxury when the burden of administrative work and the twins’ upkeep weighed so heavily on him. By the time Lord Gotoh returned to Archanea he left behind a considerably lighter load… though not the way Wendell would spend his vacations, he couldn’t complain when the more tedious aspects of his job became easier!

It let him carry on at a more relaxed pace without fear of running behind schedule. His subordinates noticed the subtle rise in energy he carried, and he himself was aware of it – one week ago, he might not have noticed Arlen and Merric’s entry until they were in the room. “Ah, good afternoon you two! How did Prince Jubleo’s lesson go today?”

“He is progressing adequately, Master Wendell. However, there is something we must… I mean, Merric must discuss about the coming lessons,” Arlen said, gesturing to his peer.

“Yes, I’m afraid you’ll need to find a replacement instructor for the time being,” he explained with dismay. “You see Master, Prince Marth and Princess Elice allowed me to resume my studies on the condition that I return to Altea by summer’s end. I’ll be unavailable for the next few months.”

“And September is nearly a week away… I understand Merric. Take all the time you need in Altea, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble hopping back into your usual rhythm.”

“Ah, thank you Master Wendell! …Anyway, I believe Arlen already has a substitute in mind!”

He nodded. “Yes. If it is alright with you, I would like to bring Mr. Rabenschreir into our lessons.”

“Mr. Raben… Arlen, I know you’ve been looking to work more closely with him. But I’m not sure it would be wise to introduce Prince Jubelo to a practitioner of dark magic yet.”

“You can’t put this off forever. He’ll need to understand at least the basic concepts if he’s to have a full education. And you said this is one sorcerer we can trust,” Arlen argued. “Merric and Princess Maria fought alongside him before, and for the first few lessons the Prince will have both of us around. I already pitched the arrangement to him, and he will accept if you permit it.”

“I’m sure the Prince will give him a chance, and he’s many years our senior! Arlen and I have difficulty with communicating the more abstract concepts… what do you say?” Merric asked.

Wendell tapped his two index fingers together in contemplation. “If you’re both on board with this, I’ll give you one chance, tomorrow’s lesson. I will speak with the Prince in private afterwards, and if he does not approve you’ll have to find a new co-instructor. And let me be clear, under no circumstances are you to teach him the dark arts!”

“We agreed it is too soon for that. It’ll only be brought up in the most general of term.” He bowed and added, “Thank you Master. We’ll see to it the Prince is comfortable.”

“I would hope so. Disciplined or not, this choice of instructor must not be taken lightly,” he warned. “If you have no further concerns you are free to go. Thank you for warning me of this.”

“Of course, Master Wendell! Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!” Merric cheered while following his peer out. He closed the door and quickly caught up to Arlen. “I’d say that went pretty well, right?”

“Yes, but we’re not in the clear yet. You heard what Master Wendell said: we have one chance.”

“Hm, you’re right… say, what if we introduced them today, before the lesson? Let the Prince make a new friend before-”

“Merric, this isn’t about friendship. … Still, you have a point. We’ll get our consensus sooner and avoid the shock of introducing him out of the blue,” Arlen conceded. “And if Princess Yuliya is there as well, we won’t have to deal with her attitude on the matter.”

“Great! You can fetch our new instructor and I’ll go tell them!” he replied, bounding down the hall.

Arlen went his way at a slower pace. Hmph. Misguided or not, Merric was on to something.

Maria laid her finger on the map of Archanea and traced along the mountain range that carved through her island home. “It was agreed upon that Wyrm’s Ridge would mark the border between the Kingdom of Macedon and the Dohlr Ruins. The mountains would be a neutral territory: both peoples would be allowed to come and go as they pleased. We still patrol the mountains heavily, but it’s more a defense against feral wyverns from the Wyvern’s Dale than from Dolhr.”

“Why would King Iote leave them alone? He and his fellow Macedonians once lived under Dolhr’s thumb. Surely he’d want to punish them more harshly?” Yuliya then pointed to the map and questioned, “And what about the land? By the looks of it, Dohlr has… close to twice the island your kingdom does.”

“Well, the manakete were still around, right? Wouldn’t they need a place to live?” Jubelo suggested.

“Correct. The Dragon Altar is housed in a temple within the Wyvern’s Dale… it’s the one place that is off-limits to Macedon,” she explained, pointing to its location. “Your ancestor set aside a portion of Grust’s land for the manakete too, right?”

“Oh, yeah, the Fane of Raman… I suppose if King Ordwin made concessions, so would King Iote. I still think he could have taken more land… the middle of this island looks pretty empty.”

“Well, that’s because it is. The central plains are dry and barren. Not suitable for farming, and with the mountains they’d be easy to seize if we were attacked… that’s what Michalis told me.”

“Oh… well, if that land doesn’t serve much use…”

Maria added, “King Iote also wanted to respect the wishes of Dolhr’s other inhabitants. We’re all one people at our roots, but not everyone sided with Iote’s rebellion. Some still believe manaketes are the rightful rulers and refuse to bend the knee to a human king.”

“…They would put another species over their own?”

“It’s complicated Yuliya. Some Macedon nobles thought them crazy holding out for a new Dolhr Empire. I think it’s crazy!” she confessed. “Still, it’s up to them if or when to join us. As a former slave himself King Iote didn’t want to impose upon them. Some nobles have proposed taking them and their land by force – a few even tried it – but the crown always put them down for stepping out of line… a-although I heard my brother planned to break that pact.”

“Hm? Wasn’t he allied with Dolhr?”

“It was more an alliance against Archanea than with Dolhr. He was always looking for an opening to team up with General Camus and overthrow Gharnef and Medeus… o-or so I’ve heard…”

There was something suspicious about how Maria was talking, but it was quickly buried by a knock on the door. “Prince Jubelo? Are you in there?”

“Merric? Uh, present.”

“Is there something you forgot during today’s lesson?”

Merric poked his head in and answered, “No Princess, it concerns his future lessons.”

“Future lessons? How so?”

He pushed the door fully open and explained, “To keep it short, I’m due to return to Altea before the end of summer, so I’ll be away for a few months.”

“A few months? … But, what about my lessons?”

“Yeah, Master Wendell said my brother isn’t to practice without two witnesses. You and Arlen better have a plan!” Yuliya demanded.

“It’s alright Princess Yuliya, we have a substitute in mind. And I’m sure you might be familiar with him, Princess Maria.”

“Me? Familiar? Hm…” Maria tapped her chin trying to recall who he might be. After a few moments she guessed, “Would it be that sorcerer? …Etzel?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Sorcerer?” That word triggered some uncomfortable thoughts, and on further reflection Princess Yuliya became angry. “Are you telling me you plan to let a dark mage teach my brother!?”

“D-Dark mage?!”

“Now now, Etzel’s nothing like the dark mages who follow Gharnef, I promise!”

“Yeah, Etzel threw his support behind Prince Marth first chance he got! And I haven’t actually seen him use dark magic… give him a chance, he’s trustworthy,” Maria added.

Yuliya’s cross stare remained. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Master Wendell said your brother has the final say. If he does not feel comfortable around him, we’ll find a new instructor. We thought it’d be better if you met him before class, and Arlen went to fetch him. He shouldn’t be long now… what do you say?”

“…You say my brother has full veto power?”

“Master Wendell said it himself. One chance, and he will hear your brother’s verdict in private.” He glanced to Jubelo and proposed, “So? What do you say, Prince?”

From behind his sister, Jubelo peeped, “I… I, guess we can give him a chance…”

“He gets one chance!” his sister reiterated.

“It’ll be alright Yuliya. He isn’t the warmest smile around, but he’s a friendly guy and I’m sure he’ll make a fine teacher for Jubelo!” Maria reassured.

Merric poked his head back into the hall. Seconds later he said, “Oh, there they are!” and moved aside so that Arlen could enter.

“I take it Merric gave you the premise?” After receiving several nods he moved to the opposite side of the doorframe and stated, “Prince Jubelo, we would like you to meet Etzel Rabenschrier.”

A man appearing somewhere around the age of thirty walked in. He wore a pale mauve outfit with a long undercoat, baggy sleeves and a charcoal gray cloak pushed back behind his shoulders. A belt around his waste drew attention to his lean build, and for a man he had a rather narrow waist. His hair was red, straight and longer in the back, draped over his shoulder in a low ponytail. Finally, he wore a monocle with a narrow gold frame over his left eye.

He took a curt bow and greeted, “Good afternoon Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya. As Arlen said I am Etzel Rabenschrier, a new instructor here at Khadein. How are you?”

“I’m, uh, good…” the prince responded.

“You can start by telling us where you’re from,” Yuliya ordered.

“For the last several years I haven’t had a place to call home. I’m a vagabond, a wandering mage… but if you seek a definite answer, I was born in Dolhr.” Seeing the twins slink back he clarified, “I hold no loyalty to their fallen empire, nor to that heretic who brought it back. Quite the contrary, after what happened to my wife I had a bone to pick with them.”

“Your… wife died?”

“I’ll leave story time to you. Let me know later if you’ll accept a lesson from him, Prince,” Arlen announced as he slipped out.

“Should I grab a couple chairs?” Merric asked.

“That would be nice. Pardon us, we’ll be right back.”

Etzel left briefly with Merric and they returned with a pair of seats, seating themselves opposite the bed where the prince and princesses sat. The sorcerer held out his right hand, palm down to reveal a silver ring adorned with a deep blue, almost black gemstone. “As I was saying… do you see this ring? Before the war, Ursula and I were a pair of traveling sorcerers, offering our talents for a price – spell slingers, as we playfully called ourselves. Sadly, this is all I have left of her.”

“I’m, sorry to hear that,” Jubelo said. “How did you lose her?”

“The drums of war came in full beat. We were in Altea at the time Gra turned their coat, and were hired to protect a village.” There was a brief pause before he coldly explained, “I… overextended myself, and when she tried to save me… i-it, came at the cost of her life…”

A heavy silence permeated the room. Yuliya glimpsed the melancholic expressions of her companions, and though Etzel shed no tears the grief was plain from his weary look. He didn’t seem so frightening anymore… her brother’s fear had already given way to sadness, and now the feeling was mutual.

“I felt so lost, so angry… I swore revenge on Dolhr’s alliance. How, I cared not, nor did my usual distaste for fighting stop me. I offered my services freely to whomever wanted to resist… after throwing in my lot with a failed Altean rebellion it nearly cost me my life.”

“Would, would that be what she wanted?” Jubelo questioned.

“In hindsight, no. She was always a giving heart, sharing her magical talents with those in need… she’d probably be furious with me if I wasted the life she tried to preserve,” he admitted. “But love can push us to extremes when someone threatens to take it. In fact, I once tried to strangle a man through his iron collar when confiscated Ursula’s ring.”

Yuliya’s mouth hung open. “…Really?” With a build like his, she found that hard to believe…

“Yes, crazy as it might sound. The enemy was looking for a way to press me into service. When I refused, they stripped me of my valuables, and when that was stolen I went berserk.”

“We encountered him in Helena Castle, along the northern fringe of Altea. It’s an old fortress Dolhr and Grust were using as a supply depot… and, as we learned, to house prisoners of war,” Merric explained. “Etzel was among the enemy, but he held his position and didn’t cast a single spell as we passed him.”

“I knew I couldn’t retrieve it myself, so I hoped feigning obedience would buy me time. It was nerve-wracking though… I had to be ready to defend myself, just in case. Even after joining the Archanean League I continued to receive distrustful looks from my new allies,” he added. “Given the dangers of dark magic and all that heretic pontifex has done, I could hardly blame them.”

“If it’s so dangerous, then why study it to begin with?” Yuliya questioned.

“That requires a dip into magic’s history… there was a time long ago when we could cast it. That was forgotten, but Dolhr’s people have kept knowledge alive for a long time.”

“It’s incredible to think our distant forefathers might have been mages ourselves once!”

“Yes Merric, it is. But I would like to continue telling my story,” Etzel retorted while straightening his monocle. “You see, it was the manakete who originally practiced magic. They’ve done their part to preserve what knowledge remains; in fact, Dolhr’s scholars had their beginnings when the manakete drafted our ancestors into their bookkeeping efforts.”

“But you still couldn’t cast, right?” Jubelo asked.

“They kept those secrets tightly. It wasn’t our place to learn it, they said. That changed when the White Sage Gotoh introduced tomes and staffs, vessels and catalysts to bridge the gap. Dolhr’s scholars jumped at the opportunity when they got their hands on these resources, although few dark tomes exist to this day.” He elaborated, “Dark magic is inherently dangerous. While it won’t automatically make you evil, its practice will tempt you, pry at your heart. It will inundate you if you’re careless, unshackling you from all inhibition or sucking you in, leaving nothing but an empty shell.”

Maria felt uncomfortable thinking about the ramifications… glancing to Jubelo and Yuliya she saw them wide-eyed as the sorcerer described the risks. The prince was unpredictable with his magic as it is… he didn’t even want to consider what he might become under dark magic’s influence!

“Which is why I cannot teach anyone yet, let alone someone as young as you. Had Lord Wendell not forbade it my stance would be no different,” Etzel emphasized, to their relief. “Before I share its secrets I want to get a feel for teaching in general, and I would need to screen all prospective students. You need to go into this field with the right mindset to come back out in one piece.”

Merric wondered, “And what would qualify one to study dark magic safely? Just out of curiosity, I don’t plan to study it in-depth… that’s something Arlen is more interested in.”

Arlen practicing dark magic… that did not sit well with Princess Yuliya. “You won’t teach anyone dark magic yet, right? Not him, either…”

“Heavens no, Arlen is too volatile. He needs to curtail that temper first, and we have to identify an anchor. Everyone who practices dark magic is advised to have one; something that tethers you to your senses and helps you keep sight of-”

“And this anchor was your wife, right? I heard love can be a very powerful ground.”

“Yes, Merric, and please don’t interrupt me… but I suppose you want to hear Ursula’s story. She was another youth from Dolhr – like me, her parents were scholars of the dark arts. We were sent to a school hidden in the mountains between Dolhr and Macedon.”

“Oh, we were just talking about that!” Maria remarked, holding up her book. “It’s around here in the Wyrm’s Ridge, right?”

“Yes, but I cannot disclose its exact location. That would be the equivalent of an invitation, and for all I know it may have moved… Macedonians close to the border have tried to shut it down. We actually had to relocate once while we were attending,” he explained. “Now then. Ursula and I clicked on so many levels… she had a kind heart, a fondness for magic and a strong desire to see the lands beyond Dolhr.”

“You must have loved her dearly.”

“Oh yes… I’ll never forget her long raven hair, her deep purple eyes or that charming wit lying in wait under her tongue,” he recalled with a peaceful smile. Closing his eyes to fully immerse in the memory, he gently felt the ring with his left fingers. “Although she is gone, I’ll never the twenty years we spent together. We were each other’s anchor in our days as students, and she will continue to tether me for the rest of my days.”

“Was it her wish for you to come to Khadein?” Jubelo asked.

“No, it was Archbishop Wendell’s suggestion. Although he is rightfully wary of dark magic, he believes educating the masses would do better to prevent another Gharnef than burying it and hoping no one would find it. Ursula always sought to quell people’s fears, so I’m sure she would approve… and, well, it’s also a way to repay Khadein for our education. Many of our school’s supplies were stolen property… not out of malice, but to enrich what could be taught.”

“Uh-huh…” Being of high birth, Yuliya didn’t have the best impression of thievery. “So you’re saying you used your talents to help people. But can any good really come out of dark magic?”

“Absolutely. Any good can be bad when used for evil purposes, and the opposite also holds true. The ends speak louder than the means, that’s what our school taught,” Etzel replied. “You’d be surprised what it can do: you can cure disease, fix what is broken…”

“Huh? Cure disease? How so?”

“Look at it this way, Princess: whether you cure a disease or destroy the illness you reach the same conclusion,” he reasoned. “Likewise, forcing an object out of its broken state is essentially fixing it.”

“That’s, uh… a strange way of putting it.”

“Dark magic requires you to reach beyond conventional thinking to fully grasp it. Part of its allure despite the risk has always been its potential.”

Merric questioned, “If I may, what about resurrecting the dead? Princess Elice has a staff that can do that, Aum, but it has limits…”

“Yes, dark magic can indeed be used to raise the dead, and it is not bound by the limitations of fate like Aum. But that freedom comes with a serious cost; the results might be less thorough than what the Aum staff can achieve… still, it’s a concept I have yet to fully understand, and I shudder to consider my wife coming back wrong.” He then returned his attention to the twins and concluded, “I believe we’ve said enough for now. What do you think, Prince Jubelo? Will you consider me for an instructor?”

Jubelo took a few seconds to think about it. When his sister silently nudged him for an answer he mumbled, “Let me think, Yuliya,” to get her to stop. Finally, he opened his eyes and decided, “If Merric, Arlen and Maria all trust you then… I’ll give you a chance. No dark magic, right?”

“Of course not, Prince. Merric and Arlen will fill me in on your current lesson plan, it’ll be business as usual,” he promised.

“Ah, good morning, Prince!”

“Good morning, Merric,” Jubelo replied as he stepped into the usual classroom. At this point it had become routine: Merric was always early, eager to begin the lesson. Arlen might enter in a hurry, but he would be punctual nonetheless. This was how it had been while they taught him individually, and the pattern continued through their joint lessons.

It would be different from this morning onwards, though. About two minutes later the wind mage’s attempts at small talk were interrupted when the new instructor arrived. Jubelo tensed up when he saw Etzel walk in with Arlen, this time with his cloak worn properly… it brought unpleasant flashbacks of the henchmen who occasionally attended his and Yuliya’s cell.

“Good morning, Prince… oh, pardon me.” Observing the prince’s fright he opened his cloak, folded it back over his shoulders and asked, “Is that better? Apologies if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Uh, uh huh… thank you, Etzel…” Tension began to fade, although his heartbeat would take a few minutes to settle.

“Etzel will take turns with Merric assisting in your lessons. He asked to have a chance to observe, so for now, you and I will begin the lesson, Merric,” Arlen stated.

“If there is any confusion then do not hesitate to ask, I may be able to help,” he added, taking his seat next to the prince. “That goes for you too, Prince.”

“Uh, yes. Thank you Etzel.”

“All right, let’s not waste the morning.” Arlen opened his lesson plan to the bookmarked section. “Let’s see… ah, damnit. Did we leave off at Chapter Four, or at the end of Chapter Three?”

“I think we finished Chapter Three yesterday,” Merric answered. “Still, if you need reinforcement-”

“If anything is unclear, we will check back. But unless I see any gaps, the only way is forward.”

Yes, business as usual all right. The only way is forward… it was a mantra Arlen pushed constantly in their lessons. While his commanding influence was sometimes overbearing, it did get him to try where he might normally back down. With a dark mage around he could use that encouragement… kind as Etzel was, it would take time for Jubelo to be truly comfortable.

Etzel Rabenschreir – Scholar of the Arcane

Etzel’s life has been more adventurous than most, and not all in a good way. A sorcerer from the Dolhr Ruins, he and his wife once traveled the land as magical mercenaries – or spell slingers, as they branded themselves. That was until the War of Shadows when they were caught in the crossfire… tragically, his beloved Ursula didn’t make it. Overcome with grief, Etzel swore revenge on the Dolhr Empire, eventually ending up in the Archanean League’s company. There he met Bishop Wendell, who offered him a new home at Khadein; although dark magic is spurned by the masses, a firm knowledge base might avert further tragedy. After some initial hesitation Etzel accepted it, finding a new purpose in life.

Having trained in the dark arts from a young age, Etzel has experience in navigating the ancient magic’s secrets without losing himself to its influence. Turning public opinion won’t be easy – not after Gharnef dug the rut deeper – but a few brave souls already seek him. However, Etzel is wary to spread its secrets too quickly. It might be better to start with more rudimentary magics and find his bearings as a teacher first. Arlen recommended him as a substitute for Merric in Prince Jubelo’s lessons… that could be a start. Maybe learning under a dark mage will help the Grustian prince conquer his fears?

Chapter Text

Prince Jubelo’s fears went unfounded as time passed. Etzel held staunchly to his word; even after Merric returned to Altea his lessons remained a continuation of the norm. Lectures became quieter and more subdued without the wind mage owing to Etzel’s more reserved personality and Arlen’s clear respect for him. It was a welcome change from the spats that occasionally interrupted Arlen’s lessons with Merric… Jubelo did miss him outside classes, though. The other instructors were less interested in engaging with him, his sister and Princess Maria during leisure activities, and Master Wendell only had so much time for them. Even Yuliya admitted he made life more entertaining.

Tempo was not the only noticeable change in the prince’s lessons since Etzel replaced him. The scope of the material also broadened, a fresh concept introduced every week or two. Even dark magic received a few passing mentions, and Jubelo felt skittish when it did, but never enough to scare him from his lessons. Etzel was very cautious with his contributions, demonstrating great wisdom about magic… so much in fact that a few lessons reached a wider audience.

Today’s was one, as they were joined by Yuliya, Maria, the clerics and even Master Wendell. Etzel was giving a solo lecture on the fields of magic and how they interconnected… it was a pilot to introducing advanced theory. As a day one course the premises were simplified enough that anyone could follow along – Etzel warned the rest of the curriculum might boggle their minds, though. It was a taste of what they might study after a few years; and for Wendell, and opportunity to screen the new instructor before clearing him for public lessons.

Etzel drew a four-sided star on the chalkboard. He had already traced a shepherd’s crook to its right, a symbol used for staffs; the anima triangle above it, three bubbles with their respective symbols; and a half-moon facing downwards in the upper-right, representing dark magic. The four symbols were arranged in a square.

“Light magic is perhaps the least understood magic type. Its library is limited, and even those with a background have trouble describing it,” he explained.

“Yes, I’ve heard Pontifex Miloah say that it cannot be taught like the other magics. Part of it is something that must be understood by intuition,” Wendell commented.

“Correct. It is said that it comes more easily to those with a background in the clergy, which is why I suspect a link.” Etzel traced a rounded triangle around all but the staff symbol. “We usually think of magic divided as such: offensive spells imbued in tomes categorized as black magic, while supportive spells imbued in staffs are white magic. However…”

Yuliya raised an eyebrow when he drew an elongated oval, this one connecting light magic and staffs. Then to her discomfort he added another grouping anima and dark above it.

He stood to the side and pointed to the board while elaborating, “It’s been speculated there may be other underlying connections. Light magic requiring a similar train in thought to staffs suggests they may in fact be related, grouped under a school my contemporaries have called faith magic. In contrast, dark magic requires a more rational approach like the anima magics, invoking the concept of a reason magic school alongside it. That said…”

Adding further confusion, he drew another ellipse, this time between light and dark of all things. Yuliya and Maria glanced back to the clerics, who appeared equally surprised.

“This is more of a stretch, and scholars on both sides object quite vocally. But light and dark magic are both considered more advanced schools, requiring a strong background or a greater knowledge base than anima magic or staffs. Unlike anima, grounded in the natural elements, they’re rooted within human nature… one drawing on faith, the other on logic. One on positive feelings, the other on negative. One desiring to protect and enrich, the other desiring more power.” He held his palms like a scale while listing the contrasts, oppositely raising and lowering his arms. “This more spiritual nature has led some to consider them two sides of the same coin.”

Jubelo and Yuliya shared an inquisitive glance. Now it was becoming harder to wrap their head around… Helen and Sarah whispered to each other. Master Wendell jotted a few things down while Arlen wrote extensively; his eyes constantly bounced between his notes and the board, his quill moving nonstop.

“Are there any questions?”

Arlen asked, “Are there any spells that suggest a link between anima and dark?”

“I can think of… a few, but in the interest of this being an introductory lecture, and with respect to some of our audience, I will not name them.”

“Then we can talk about it later.”

“Yes, you can talk later, but here is not the time or place,” Wendell interjected, trying to push the conversation in another direction. “And if I may, where does this place what we call sub-elements? For example, ice is traditionally grouped with wind.”

“From what we know, sub-elements ultimately fall under one of the three anima canopies. As you said, ice-based magic is a sub-school of wind, and any water spells would be similar,” Etzel answered. “Bolganone suggests earth-based magic would fall under fire, and I’ve heard about a ‘not-quite light’ spell that may be-”

“And what spell is that?” Arlen requested.

“…I haven’t seen it, but it’s called Sagittae. It bombards the target with heavenly arrows. From my understanding it’s not light magic, despite stars usually being associated with light. It’s possible it and other heavenly phenomena are an extension of thunder magic, but we’re not entirely sure.”

“Hm… interesting.”

“Will there be any further questions?” His eyes fell on Miss Helen and Miss Sarah whispering to each other. “What about you ladies?”

“Um… in the interest of keeping pace, not now,” Sarah replied with a nod from Helen.

Etzel had suspicions but agreed not to press it further. “All right. I have nothing else to discuss, then.”

Wendell stated, “If there’s one takeaway from all this, it’s that magic is an incredibly broad field with many mysteries and sub-disciplines. Although Khadein generally breaks magic down into tomes and staffs, there may be secrets that require a narrower focus to understand. In other lands, magic might be approached under a different perspective, such as those Etzel pitched.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Archbishop… as you say, lands beyond our own might follow a different set of principles. It’s possible our own principles might change as our understanding of magic evolves… let that be food for the mind.” He paused for a moment and added, “Um, class dismissed.”

Wendell gave a light applause joined by Maria, Helen and Sarah, with Arlen nodding. “Very informative, Etzel. I believe the lecture could use some more content, though.”

“Yes, I’d say the same… I wasn’t sure how deeply to cover it, especially with children in attendance,” he admitted sheepishly. “I hope you understood the bulk of it.”

“Most of it… it, got confusing when you started crisscrossing the types of magic,” Yuliya commented, her brother and Maria agreeing.

“This is to be the introduction to an advanced course. You’ll understand better after a few more years of study,” Arlen replied, then turned towards Etzel. “I’ll echo what Master Wendell said: it is a good base that could be supported with more substance.”

“Yes, and with what we’ve seen I have faith he will flesh it out before bringing this lecture before a proper class. You did well for your first time, Mr. Rabenschrier.”

“Phew… thank you, Lord Wendell.” He tugged his collar and took a breath, his face slightly flushed. “I haven’t taught in front of these numbers before, and I imagine I’ll have to get used to more.”

“It shouldn’t be that much more. Class sizes shrink the higher up you go,” Helen assured.

“Ah, well, that’s good to hear.”

As Etzel set about to clearing the board and others rose from their seats, Jubelo peeked over at Arlen’s notebook. He wrung his right hand by his hip, flexing it to drive off tension after writing so extensively… his page was packed with notes, scribbles and other musings.

Catching the prince’s curious glance Arlen asked with slight irritation, “What is it, Prince?”

“Oh, uh, sorry! I was… just looking at how much you wrote, that’s all.”

“Hmph, of course. As an advanced student myself it is to be expected,” he answered in a slightly boastful tone. “There was a lot to take away from this lecture, and you’d do well to- hey!”

While Jubelo held his attention Yuliya snuck a closer peek at his notes. “Clean up before sending to Merric… yeah, it could use-”

“No one asked you, Princess!” he snapped while clapping it shut.

Maria tugged her wrist and chastised, “Yuliya, don’t read other’s notes like that. It’s rude.”

“Yes Princess, it’s impolite to skim others’ writing without permission. Regardless, I’m glad to hear you thinking about your peers while they’re away, Arlen,” Wendell complimented.

Arlen rose and tucked his notebook away. “I merely expect my peers to be on a similar level. That’s all there is too it.”

“Sure there is.”

After shooting Princess Yuliya a disgruntled glare he exited without another word. Master Wendell left a few moments later and the clerics motioned for the princesses to follow. On her way out, Yuliya glanced back to her brother and shook her head lightly with a knowing smirk. “Pfft.”

Although Jubelo didn’t agree with his sister’s attitude, she was right. Arlen cared about Merric more than he let on, and he was happy to see it even if the thunder mage wouldn’t admit it.

To my young lieges,

It was a pleasure to host you on your twelfth birthday. Talk of your visit has been circulating around Grust, and I hear some villages have been holding small celebrations! I’ve received a storm of clamor for your permanent homecoming, and it pains me every time I have to turn them away. I too look forward to that day, older and wiser than when you were stolen from us. In light of what’s been going on, however, I feel safer with you staying at Khadein.

As promised, I bear news of the third official appointed to lead the Archanean envoy… somehow he is even worse than the last. A scuffle broke out between a few of their soldiers and Sable Order knights, and he gave me a tongue-lashing over our knights’ poor behavior. I’m losing my patience with King Hardin’s poor character judgment… I made our frustrations clear in my latest letter. King Mostyn has also been in contact with me, and while he’s offered advice in resolving the issue it just isn’t enough. I don’t want to involve him directly, but I may require more than words of wisdom.

Apologies if this was cause for alarm. I hope you continue to thrive at Khadein; for all the stress Archanea gives me, I’m enjoying the cooler autumn weather. Some in Olbern Keep dread the winter months, but after the grueling summer I might be numb to the cold… we shall see.

Take care, Your Highnesses.

General Lorenz Garnier
Interim Regent of the Kingdom of Grust

Bad news about the Archaneans was no surprise at this point. Yuliya and Jubelo already distrusted them; with their poor record before the war, it would take a saint to restore their reputation. Although they seldom interacted directly, Merric informed them of proud words he’d heard from the Archanean-born students towards their new king. Apparently Hardin’s leadership ushered in a swift recovery for the kingdom and its best years in a long time… faint praise when their fortune was confined to its borders. Archanea was the seat of power on its namesake continent, the crown all vassal kingdoms answered to. Princess Maria also held Hardin in high regard, but she sympathized with their doubts given her own family’s attitudes towards their suzerain.

Nevertheless, there was little they could do given their situation. Khadein offered an abundance of distractions to take their minds off the dour news, from leisure activities to more practical pursuits. September’s passage broadened their options as the summer heat and the sun’s angle waned, making outdoor excursions less strenuous. In the interest of building up the twins’ courage, Archbishop Wendell began taking them for more frequent wyvern flights. If they built a stronger stomach they might be able to visit General Lorenz over the winter solstice break!

News of that possibility emboldened them, and even the timid prince became more eager to try. Jubelo didn’t dare open his eyes beyond a peep here and there, and he still trembled in his seat, especially when the wind picked up. But he held strong, wasn’t pleading to land and Wendell observed him taking deep breaths to keep his cool. “You’ve been making fine progress, Prince Jubelo.”

“Uh-huh… thank you, Master…” His hands remained clamped on the saddle’s pommel and his eyes shut equally tight. Still, Master Wendell’s words were encouraging.

“Your sister must be happy to see you handling it so well. In fact, I think this is your longest flight yet!”

“Yeah, th-that wouldn’t surprise me…” Curiosity led him to peek with his left eye and scan the land below… to his left was empty desert and a village. Maybe if he… yes, peeking to his right he spotted Yuliya’s blonde head and white dress among the group.

“Do you see her? She’s looking this way!”

“Uh, yeah, I… see her.” He wanted to wave like Master Wendell did, but he couldn’t bring himself to take his hands off the saddle. Looking at the ground became too tense, so he shut his eyes again.

From below, Yuliya watched their flight warily. With enough practice she could keep her eyes open during flight, provided she didn’t look straight down. She worried for him however, knowing how dangerous things could get if he panicked so high up. Not having her Rescue staff didn’t help… Master Wendell insisted she spend time without it so as not to become too dependent; but at times like this she desperately wanted an emergency measure in case Jubelo fell.

She jolted when Maria laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry Yuliya, I just wanted to say, your brother’s doing a lot better than at the start of the month!”

“Um, yeah… I guess he is.”

“On his first flight at the end of August he was begging to get off by now. There’s no guessing that he’s improved,” Arlen scoffed.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you! … What brings you out here anyway? I thought you didn’t care for wyvern flights.”

He crossed his arms and turned away. “I don’t. You wouldn’t see me riding aboard one of those scale-clad beasts any time soon!”

“Why? I thought you’d want to take after Master Wendell.” Suddenly, Yuliya grinned mischievously as the thought occurred to her. “Or is it because you’re scaaared?”

“Yuliya!” Maria chided.

“So? Nothing wrong about that. According to Merric you were practically kissing the sand when you landed after your first time.”

“Yes, my first time, and I’ve been improving. Master Wendell said it’s a good skill to have, especially on terrain poorly suited to cavalry,” she countered. “But enough about that. Why are you out here anyway? I remember you would always stay inside whenever we came out here.”

He didn’t respond.

“Hmmm… is it because you’re lonely?”

“Why would I be lonely? I get enough unwanted attention from Merric.”

“Merric isn’t here right n- …oh, that’s why you’re lonely! You miss Merric!”

“What the- you-!” Arlen turned back around, glaring and stuttering as his cheeks lit up red. “Listen here you Little Miss, don’t get the wrong idea! I don’t miss Merric!”

“Oh yeah? Then why do you insist on taking down lessons for him?” she retorted snidely.

“That has NOTHING to do with him or any of his friendship bull-”

“That’s enough! Break it up!” Etzel urged, pushing him away while Maria similarly walled off Yuliya.

“Yeah Yuliya, enough! You didn’t need to prod him that much!” she scolded.

“Well, he doesn’t need to be such a jerk about his feelings,” Yuliya replied.

“That doesn’t excuse you! You’re the one who provoked him by-”

“What’s going on!?”

The two princesses were interrupted by the wingbeats of a wyvern as Wendell landed to assess the situation. “Arlen and Etzel are leaving and I catch you two arguing? What happened?”

“She started it!” Maria hastily answered, pointing to Yuliya.

“Hey! I was-”

“She gave Arlen an attitude and started teasing him about his friendship with Merric!”

Wendell shot a cross stare at Yuliya.

“Yeah, but… he wasn’t being honest about himself, and…  he talked back to me about-”

“He only said your brother’s nerve on a wyvern was improving. You didn’t have to tease him about his own fear of flying, or about his thoughts on Merric!” Maria explained.

Yuliya tried to stutter a response, but couldn’t produce a coherent defense under the heat. Master Wendell and Maria’s disapproval was bad enough, but looking to her brother offered no help… he seemed equally disappointed.

Wendell sighed. “I was going to see if all three of you might fly together, but after that, I don’t believe you’ve earned the right.”

“Well, what if it was just you, me and the Prince?” Maria suggested.

“…I suppose we could settle for that.”

Yuliya gasped. “What!? You can’t be serious… you can’t leave me-”

“If you want to come with us, I want to hear from him that you apologized!” Wendell demanded.

“Huh? But I… um…” Maria was already climbing up the wyvern’s side. She tried to follow but the archbishop shook his head to her. “Um… w-wait here.” She whipped around and sprinted as fast as she could to catch up. “Arlen, wait! Wait up!”

Arlen and Etzel were passing by the oasis when they heard her voice. The thunder mage looked over his shoulder and muttered, “Now what?”

The princess stopped a few feet away to catch her breath and panted, “Hah, hah, hah… Arlen, I’m… sorry about what I said just now…”

He was not convinced. “Oh really. Is this an apology or an appeasement gesture?”

“It’s, uh… hah… listen. Master Wendell was going to take all three of us for a flight at once, and…”

“You were excluded because of your attitude.”

“Yes, but, if I apologized he might give me a chance, so…” She clasped her hands together and begged, “Please, just this once! I really want to be there for my brother, so… please? For him?”

He glanced aside to Etzel while giving it thought.

“I, I won’t say anything else mean about you and Merric, I swear!”

“…This will be the last time, do you understand?”

“I haven’t called you… that nickname again, have I? Princess’s honor!” she swore.

Riiight, Princess’s honor… Still, an idea formed in his head, and he decided to play along. “All right, deal. But I’m not to hear another wisecrack about Merric.”

“Of course not!” She turned around and motioned to him. “Now come on. Master Wendell wants to hear it from you.”

“Fine. Etzel?”

“Understood. I’ll be in my study when you return,” Etzel replied, continuing towards the city alone. “Good to see you taking responsibility for your actions, Princess Yuliya.”

Yuliya excitedly started running back to Master Wendell but stopped when she looked back over her shoulder. Arlen took his sweet time following her. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

“I will move at my own pace,” he retorted, continuing at a leisurely walk.

“Ugh, fine…”

The princess jogged back to Master Wendell, whose wyvern and its passengers remained at rest. Jubelo kept his seat in front of the archbishop while Maria sat behind him; all three watched in her direction. Once she got within earshot she shouted, “I talk to him! He’s coming, don’t worry!”

“I see him, Princess,” Wendell called, waiting patiently until his student stopped next to Yuliya at the wyvern’s flank. “Well, Arlen?”

“I accept her apology on the condition that she not speak so shrewdly about it again,” he answered. “Enjoy your ride, Prince and Princesses. I’ll be with Mr. Rabenschrier in his study.”

“Thank you, Arlen.” Wendell leaned over to help the princess mount their wyvern and directed her to the back. Maria slid back to make space for her. “I hope you learned your lesson, Princess.”

“Yes, Master Wendell. I won’t-”

“One more thing,” Arlen suddenly spoke up.

“Hm? Yes Arlen?” Wendell inquired.

“I’ll be picking up some sweet tarts from the bakery for dessert tonight,” he announced. “However, in light of what happened earlier, there’ll be none for Princess Yuliya.”

Yuliya silently gawked. That was one of her favorites!

“That will be alright. I’m sure Prince Jubelo and Princess Maria will enjoy it!” Wendell replied.

Jubelo and Maria nodded, the former bidding, “Thank you Arlen!”

“You’re welcome,” he flatly replied while heading back towards the city. He cracked a smirk once he was certain they couldn’t see. NOW we’re even, you royal brat.

Yuliya didn’t need to see to guess, though. She dared not speak up but quietly fumed. That conniving, underhanded son of a…

“Thanks for apologizing, Yuliya.”

She snapped back to reality at the sound of her brother’s voice. “Oh, uh… of course, Brother. As a princess I must set a good example.” Behind her, Maria rolled her eyes.

“Yes, and I hope you’ll consider the examples others set, royalty or not.” Wendell brought up the reins and advised, “Hold on tight! We’ll take things smoothly, but you may not be accustomed to such a crowded saddle!”

Jubelo closed his eyes and braced for takeoff while Yuliya took a firm grip on Master Wendell’s waist. Maria, being the least frightened of the three, kept a laxer hold around hers.

Chapter Text

To my young lieges,

Are you enjoying the cooler weather? I certainly am, and I’m proud to bear further good news: after a string of poor judgments, it seems King Hardin has finally come to his senses! The fourth official shows better manners than the first three combined and is taking steps to discipline Archanea’s soldiers. I hear promising reports from the Sable Order and sighs of relief from our citizens. Another weight lifted off my shoulders… I must write to the King to voice my approval.

It’s heartening to hear you trying new experiences beyond magic. I never rode a wyvern, but Grust’s few dracoknights tell a similar tale. Though the first flights are frightening for most, they grew to find it exhilarating! If you can endure enough to ride as passengers then that alone would be a boon. It’ll grant you greater mobility than a horse and carriage when you need to travel… in fact, if you are comfortable with the trip then I invite you to Grust. The winter solstice will be upon us in another month. To enjoy it with your company again would bring great pleasure, and I extend the invite to Archbishop Wendell and any guests you might bring.

Please confirm with a letter if you wish to come, even if you’re still on the fence. If you have to cancel last-minute that’s alright. As with your birthday there is no obligation, and I’ll not count on the White Sage’s intervention a second time.

Take care, Your Highnesses.

General Lorenz Garnier
Interim Regent of the Kingdom of Grust

Cancel last-minute… Yuliya scoffed at the thought. She and Jubelo were set on making the trip as soon as they read his letter. Master Wendell brought them out for flight conditioning every other day to prepare them, and in the second week of December they took an hour-long practice flight to test them. In each other’s company they passed with flying colors; even Jubelo managed with nary a complaint! Maria for her part was thrilled with the extended flights, Master Wendell even letting her order basic commands to their wyvern. At first it was worrying, but the archbishop always had the final say and the princess’s directions minded her fellow passengers. She wouldn’t order a dive or loop-de-loop when it might scare the twins… never mind how dangerous it was with four riders.

With the solstice fast approaching, they were preparing for takeoff just two days later. It was early in the morning, the sun not even up an hour, but they needed all the daylight they could muster. The twins’ light and meager packs contrasted Maria’s fuller cargo; she’d be going back to Macedon to stay, longing to see her sister and country. All three were loaded into the seating arrangement they became accustomed to: Maria up front while Jubelo and Yuliya took up the rear.

All they needed was for the archbishop to say his last goodbye. “I can count on you to be alright on your own, correct?”

Arlen nodded. “Of course, Master Wendell. We go through this every year, and this time I have Mr. Rabenschrier to keep me company.”

“Good.” He then gave Arlen a parting embrace. “We’ll see you in the new year, my boy.”

Jubelo and Maria smiled. So did Yuliya, but it was more out of amusement.

“Yes, I’ll, see you then,” he replied, patting his teacher on the shoulder before jostling for freedom. Arlen didn’t like being shown affection in public… did he have to do it in front of them?

With his student hastily walking back inside, Wendell climbed onto the wyvern, took his seat and gripped the reins. “Well, let’s not dawdle any longer. I should warn you, Prince and Princess, we’ll be flying far longer than you might be used to.”

“We’re aware, Master Wendell. This is what we’ve been building up to these last few months!” Yuliya answered confidently.

Her brother added, “Yeah, we trust you behind the reins, Master. I-I’m not happy about the idea of flying so long, but, it’ll be worth it.”

“Thank you Prince, I’ll ensure your trust is not misplaced.”

A light crack of the reins and their steed spread its wings, took a few strides forward and flapped off the ground. Jubelo shut his eyes and held onto Wendell’s back tightly while Yuliya huddled protectively over his. Both were shivering, if not out of fright then from the brisk morning air washing over them… they weren’t used to flying in such chilly conditions.

Maria, as usual, was fearless in the face of flying. Their gentle pace was less a problem than the chilling breeze – she covered her face to weather the initial cold shock, lowering her hands after getting used to it. Surveying the desert this early was a treat: long shadows cast westward against a normally warm backdrop. The sun’s low angle painted a gradient over the sand from east to west, even sparkling in a few places. A layer of mist rose over the river and shoreline down by the harbor. “Wow, I’ve never flown this early around Khadein!”

“There are a few sights you don’t get to see during the day,” Wendell concurred. “Even when trips like this become routine, you still find new things from time. About ten years ago I even saw frost one morning! …The icy phenomenon, not the bishop.”

“Ha, I know who you’re talking about! He’s a nice man who loves talking about his family! I heard he only became a bishop later in life.”

“Indeed. Frost was initially a scholar with a strong interest in the clergy, but had little talent for magic or martial pursuits,” he explained. “But love finds a way, and at his children’s behest he gave it a try. As a fellow Macedonian we chatted frequently whenever we passed one another. In fact, he spoke of how he and Macedon’s other practitioners look up to me… I don’t want to sound pretentious, but it was wonderful to learn that I inspire those back home!”

“Oh yeah! Minerva always had good words for you, and even though Michalis disagreed with your values he held you in high regard,” Maria remarked.

Yuliya wondered, “You said he – this Bishop Frost – had little talent for magic?”

“Yes, and he started late in life. His children were looking for spouses when he first traveled to Khadein. It goes to show what raw perseverance can achieve.”

“Oh… that does sound impressive.” She lightly tapped Jubelo’s shoulder with her chin and prodded, “You heard that, right Jubelo? If an older man lacking in raw talent can do it, so can you!”

“Yes Yuliya, I heard it… i-it’s an encouraging story.” He wasn’t in the mood to speak but listened intently.

Wendell inquired, “How has Macedon been anyway? I imagine Minerva has faced difficulties as queen, given her unexpected ascension and different values from Michalis.”

“You’d be right. Minerva wants to set us on a more peaceful course, but it’s been challenging. Many of our generals and officers want to annex Dolhr… instead, she ordered the army downsized and has fired or even exiled officers who disagree with her.” Maria paused to gather her thoughts before continuing somberly. “I’m worried she might overdo it. I want peace to stay too, but Macedon always took great pride in its military. Trying to bury that pride so quickly is going to anger her subjects.”

Yuliya nodded. “I hear you. Anyone who suggested disbanding the Sable Order unironically would be made to run laps around the castle.”

“She must have some allies thought, right?” Jubelo suggested.

“Of course! Palla and Catria are constantly at her side, and Miss Lena’s orphanage is a short flight from the capitol. Minerva says she’s visited a few times for counsel… still, I want to be there for her too. That’s why I want to end my studies and stay in Macedon with her! …Sorry for leaving you two alone.”

“It’s alright Maria, your kingdom comes first,” Yuliya assured.

Her brother agreed. “You can always write to us if you want.”

“Yes, what he said! Keep us informed about your situation and we’ll do the same on ours.”

“Mmm, thanks Jubelo. You too Yuliya. I really hope things start looking up in both our kingdoms,” she replied. “Now, if you don’t mind, Archbishop, I have a question about Arlen.”

“Is it about his decision to stay behind?”

“Yeah. He made it sound like this was a regular occurrence. Has this really happened every year?”

“I’m afraid so. The winter solstice is a vacation for students and staff alike. Since I first learned to fly I always took it as an opportunity to visit Holm. It was a rare, consistent chance to see my parents again, bless their souls, and catch up with our neighbors,” he explained. “I would have loved for Arlen to join me, but he never agreed to it.”

“Never?”

Wendell shook his head. “Not a single time. He said Khadein was the only home he needed, and I suspect he wanted to avoid flying… it wasn’t pleasant when I first flew him to Khadein. Poor boy spent the whole trip with his hands over his face, frequently asking if we were there yet. For the first year he wouldn’t even go near the wyvern stables!”

Yuliya smirked but kept quiet. I knew it.

“Oh. Poor Arlen… were his, um, grandparents alive when you adopted him?”

“My mother had three years left at the time. I told her about him and brought her to Khadein once to meet him. He was cold but more cordial with her than others,” Wendell recalled. “Father had succumbed to illness a few years back, but I fear they wouldn’t get along. He might not take well to Arlen’s attitude.”

“And how was he alone the first few years? Did anyone watch him?” Jubelo asked.

“Every year I found someone who elected to stay at Khadein over the solstice, students or staff, to take care of him. Mostly making sure he was fed and had clean linens. That was only the first few years; by the time he was eleven he had learned to care for himself and no longer needed them.”

“Oh. Sounds like he turned out to be self-sufficient,” Maria complimented.

“When you hate unwanted company that much you don’t want to depend on others,” Yuliya reasoned.

“Much as I want to disagree Princess Yuliya, you’re right. Arlen’s want for solitude had him yearning to learn independence. He accepted chores without complaint, and in fact I probably could’ve left him alone a year or two earlier. But a parent always worries.”

It would take four days of flying to reach Grust factoring in the detour to Macedon. Their first day saw them stop in a humble village on the southwest corner of Altea. The twins suggested visiting Altea Keep and bartering for a night through Princess Caeda, but Wendell objected over recent events. Merric wrote of a village completely destroyed and a premonition of an attempt on the prince’s life… not wanting to get caught up in it, they promptly reconsidered. It was preferable to keep a low profile anyway – an archbishop traveling with three young heirs was not a caravan to take travel lightly.

Nights two and three were spent at the archbishop’s village on Holm Coast. The second day was a similar affair to the first, while the third was a simple back-and-forth to take Princess Maria home. Yuliya and Jubelo joined to say goodbye to their friend, and to not be left alone in an unfamiliar village. Even if Wendell trusted his neighbors, it was said the Macedon Vikings were becoming more active lately… not that tensions were much lower at the Macedon Aerie. Throughout their brief meeting with Queen Minerva the twins observed a thinly masked weariness, and several of her subjects showed a muted scorn. One saving grace was that their ire was directed squarely at the Queen; if anything, they were far more amiable with Princess Maria… for now.

The fourth and final day was the longest, most of it spent over open ocean. Breakfast was kept light, they had to skip lunch and the twins were exhausted from sitting by the time they reached Grust’s southeast shore. But it was all worth it when they arrived to open arms at Olbern Keep that evening. General Lorenz greeted them warmly along with a small platoon of Sable Order knights, who quickly ushered them inside so they could crash – a brief supper was all they accepted before retiring to bed.

Winter was upon them the next morning, and it was just like they remembered: damp and chilly with a blanket of overcast that frequently brought rain and the occasional snow. Short, bleak days that were poor for growing or outdoor activity. And yet, for two children who spent years away from their kingdom, it evoked a sense of homeliness they’d missed for ages. Spirits were high thanks to good harvests and improving relations with the Archanean envoys, and the results spoke for themselves during the banquet. Sweets, vegetable dishes, and a grand old boar roast crowning the feast… it was hard to pick where to start! And while Princess Maria had returned to Macedon, the knights Lorenz invited had much to share about their former commander.

“Our first station was a humble post near the border with Raman. With little to do to pass the time, we found training to be the most engaging activity,” told an ash brunette knight named Belf, the platoon’s current leader. “We all worked diligently, but it was clear that Camus was a cut above us.”

“You can say that again! On some days we sparred two or even all three against one, and he still put up a good fight!” Roberto added.

Yuliya quickly swallowed before she let any food slip from her mouth. “Whoa… I heard of his strength but I never saw it in battle. He must have been given the Archanean League quite a challenge.”

“Yes, Prince Marth said it was one of his toughest battles, second only to the siege of Dolhr,” Wendell commented while helping himself to more vegetables. Whereas the twins indulged in the roast pork, meat a luxury at Khadein, the archbishop was content with more of what he was accustomed to.

With slight hesitation, the princess asked, “How… how did it end?”

A brief silence hung over the table until Lorenz questioned, “Is this really something you want to hear now?” After receiving a nod he addressed her brother. “What about you, Prince Jubelo? This subject is rather dour for a winter solstice celebration.”

The prince had to think on it for a few seconds, then answered, “Yes, Lorenz… I want to hear too.”

“Very well… General Camus stationed me at the Grusthold’s gates. Once the League breached our lines near the armory, he ordered his cavalry regiment to charge. Princess Caeda soon arrived after a near-encounter with him and persuaded me to stand down. After General Camus’s passing I ensured our remaining knights surrendered peacefully, but I was nowhere near the battle,” he explained. “I’ll have to leave that tale to you, Archbishop Wendell.”

The archbishop recalled, “I was deployed mainly for staffs that day, but I did witness that battle from across the river… Prince Marth, Princess Minerva and Prince Hardin led the effort. Princess Caeda disrupted their formation before breaking off, presumably to speak with General Lorenz. The princes and princess fought against General Camus; he made a break for Prince Marth, and they used that to isolate him from the remaining Sable knights.”

Jubelo and Yuliya listened intently. Sorrow hung over the room like overcast, but no one seemed on the verge of tears – even the prince and princess took it well.

“It was a difficult battle with Camus wielding Archanea’s prized Gradivus, but in the end we prevailed. Prince Hardin dealt the final blow… unfortunately, we had cornered him against the river. Princess Minerva and her Whitewings tried to retrieve them, but he and the spear were lost.”

“The currents north of the Grusthold are notoriously strong. It was highly unlikely they could recover him before it emptied into the sea,” said Leiden, a chestnut brunette who rounded out the trio.

“Ah…” Both twins stared down at their laps. Sitting adjacent to them, Wendell and Lorenz each put a comforting hand on one twin’s shoulder.

“We didn’t participate in his final battle. General Camus tasked us with overseeing the situation should he fall, hence we are here today,” Belf explained. “We suspect he spared us out of sentimentality… I would have liked to ride by his side one last time though.”

“Mhm, we’ve been through everything together! Even when he was our superior he still treated us like brothers,” Roberto reminisced. “Why, there was even that time we escorted Princess Nyna to Aurelis… we all took part but he accepted full responsibility, and Dolhr was furious!”

Yuliya’s malaise twisted into a resentful scowl. “Oh, right… that…”

Lorenz asked, “Is something wrong, Princess?”

“We learned about it from the guards… they, punished us that day…” Jubelo meekly whimpered.

“There there, Prince, that’s in the past,” Wendell assured him through more shoulder pats.

“Why did he have to save her… why?” Yuliya wondered bitterly. “Last we heard he held Archanea’s crown in disdain, said they were unworthy of their suzerainty.” She began kicking the table with every question, each time harder than the last: “Why should he care about her? What did she do to deserve it? What makes her so special!?”

Jubelo jumped with fright at the final kick. Roberto, Belf and Leiden shared nervous glances across the table, unsure whether to say anything. Leiden lightly shook his head… Camus said his sentiments should never reach public ears. It would bring nothing but controversy.

Lorenz instead tried to reason her. “Princess Yuliya, I understand why you might feel that way, but please don’t blame Princess Nyna. Whatever Camus’s reason it was not she who ordered it, nor would she want you abused for it. She and King Hardin are doing all they can to help Grust back on its feet.”

“They could have shown more scrutiny earlier. The first three officials treated us like serfs or sinners. Some even blamed us for the loss of Gradivus,” Leiden complained. “It was Dolhr who pilfered and delegated it to him, they should know that!”

“Leiden, is this really the time for that?” Belf chided.

“I was only saying…”

“Prince, Princess, don’t take my companion’s words too seriously,” he insisted. “The latest official has been leagues kinder to Grust. I’m sure General Lorenz wrote it to you, but we can give eye-witness accounts. He leads the envoy with greater discipline than his predecessors combined.”

Roberto added, “Oh yeah, he’s done a much better job at keeping everyone in line. He even asked us to give you his season’s greetings! We asked if he’d like to be introduced to you, but he went home to celebrate the solstice with his family.”

Jubelo asked, “Oh, he said that? He doesn’t sound so bad, then.”

“Yes, and it’s made my last month the most relaxing in a long time!” Lorenz remarked with a chuckle. “Although I am concerned with what he said before leaving… apparently, the king is reconsidering his choice of leadership again. Why Hardin would think to retire him so soon, I have no idea. He appears to enjoy his post, and I wrote him a glowing review earlier this month!”

“Well, hopefully you can change his mind. Right, Sister?”

“Um, right, Brother,” Yuliya mulled. The idea this improvement could be undone so quickly didn’t sit well with her, never mind her current reservations. For all the positives Lorenz and the Sable knights offer, it did little to absolve their prior misdeeds. Nor did it erase the negligence and decadence that led them to this point… if Princess Nyna was truly different from her failure of a dynasty, she had a lot to prove.

Jubelo noticed his sister stewing in thought and nudged her gently. “Uh, Yuliya?”

“Oh?” She popped back to reality. “Uh, it’s nothing to dwell on, Jubelo… we should enjoy our feast before it gets cold.”

“Uh-huh. After you, Sister.”

Yuliya nodded and cut another piece off her strip of meat. Once he was certain she was back to normal, he tilted his chin back towards his plate and began breaking down his cut.

“Caitlin admired the young lordling greatly. His duties frequently took him past her abode, enough that she learned his schedule! Every day he would pass, she waited by the window to watch him, gallantly strolling on foot or atop his horse.”

Dinner continued with no further hitches, and after they were full Lorenz and Wendell brought the twins to Olbern Keep’s living quarters to relax. Dressed in their nightclothes and huddled under a thick blanket, Yuliya and Jubelo contently listened while the archbishop told them a story. Normally Yuliya might object to such a juvenile pastime, but being in her homeland left her in a more pleasant mood than usual. It was nostalgic in a way, bringing them back to a childhood that seemed a lifetime away.

“Sadly, she didn’t enjoy the same favor from Lord Emerson. He usually ignored her in passing, no matter how noticeable she tried to make herself. Most of her neighbors thought she was crazy for trying… he’s a noble, he’s out of your league, they would say.

“However, she did have one friend she could always count on: a stray pegasus in the forest. No matter how down or distraught Caitlin felt, he was there to make her feel better. With years of building trust he even allowed her to ride him! Fluttering through the canopy atop a pearly white steed brightened even the gloomiest of days. She often brought him food as a token of her appreciation.

“But one morning, terrible news rang out across the town: Lord Emerson had been kidnapped! A rivaling duchy seeking to get ahead took him hostage, demanding a hefty ransom and promising death if they could not deliver it.”

The twins’ eyes widened.

“Caitlin was terrified for him, but as she went to meet her pegasus she had a bright idea. The neighboring duchy had a high tower they used to hold their most prominent prisoners… if that’s where he was being held, she might be able to rescue him! So she told him of her troubles, asked for his aid and set off for the tower. The duke wasn’t prepared for an invader from the sky, so by the time his guards reached its pinnacle they had escaped!

“Rescuing Lord Emerson was like a dream come true. She thought back to the tales of her youth of the knight rescuing the princess, earning her hand in marriage… sadly, all she received after returning the lordling was formal thanks and a fraction of the ransom.”

Jubelo’s excited smile receded, while Yuliya had a curious expression.

“It wasn’t for naught, however! Her valiant rescue became the talk of the town, and she found no shortage of friends and suitors alike! In time she found a man she fancied, and with the reward she built a stable for her pegasus friend. Many admirers wanted to follow in her footsteps, and it was thus that Caitlin became the woman to bring pegasus riding to her duchy.” Wendell closed his storybook and asked, “The end. So, what did you think?”

“It was pretty inspiring, Master Wendell… although I thought Caitlin would get the guy at the end,” Jubelo replied.

“Ah, but there lies the lesson, Prince: a good deed could bring great fortune, even if it was not the result you intended. Although I have considered that,” he mulled, stroking his chin. “It does seem unfair that when the man rescues the woman it ends in marriage, but not the other way around.”

“Well if Caitlin was the lady in distress, it’d be another man rescues woman tale,” Yuliya said.

“Hm, true… I guess you can’t win them all.”

“Regardless of the gender choices it taught a splendid lesson. You’d do well to remember it, my young lieges,” Lorenz commented. “Thank you for sharing it with us, Lord Wendell.”

“Oh, my pleasure! I rarely had the chance to make use of this storybook when Arlen was your age.” With a sigh, he added, “The boy never thought highly of the tales or their lessons, even as a child.”

“Yeah, I don’t see him being the happily ever after type.” Yuliya then wryly suggested, “I bet his favorite bedtime story was The Farmer and the Viper.”

“…Actually, yes. He was quite fond of that one, Princess.”

She blinked. “Why am I at all surprised? … What?” Her brother was shaking his head.

“I don’t believe we need to dwell on him any longer. We’re here for the holidays,” Lorenz insisted. “How about we call it a night and let our bellies run their course? We’ll have a few more days to enjoy Grust before you have to return to Khadein.”

Jubelo stretched and uttered a yawn. “Mmm, yeah, that sounds goods…”

Lorenz and Wendell led the twins to their bedroom, where Yuliya leaned her staff against the wall before slipping into bed beside her brother. The mattress was soft and plush while its covers were dense and warm, a perfect nest to bundle under on this chilly winter night. For all its crude and stony architecture, the keep’s amenities provided ample comfort.

Lorenz set a candle on the dresser. “If you need any night light-”

“You can put that out General. We’ve been learning to sleep without it,” Jubelo spoke.

“Ah, I see!” With a smile he pinched the wick to extinguish it. “I’m proud to hear you making progress in overcoming your fears.”

“It’s, still a little scary, but I have Yuliya by my side… it’s not so bad with her.”

His sister nodded. “We don’t want to rely on it forever, and once we’re further in our studies we’ll be able to make our own light. Jubelo has his fire and Master Wendell said that with training, a staff can be used as a makeshift torch.”

“Yes, and at the rate you two are progressing, that day won’t be far off.” Wendell slid the fireball he used as a torch behind him and outstretched his arms. “For now, I hope you both have a good night.”

“Mhm. You too, Master Wendell.”

They shared a hug with the archbishop, then with General Lorenz before sliding under the covers while the seniors retired to their beds. Yuliya rolled towards her brother and whispered, “I sure hope that day comes soon… Jubelo, promise me you’ll carry your current pace into next year.”

“I’ll try Yuliya, but… do we have to talk about this now? You heard what General Lorenz and Master Wendell said.”

“…Yes, I suppose I shouldn’t be hard on you tonight.” She rolled flat and allowed her body to sink into the cushion. “Not while we’re back in our own kingdom. I wish we could like this forever… well, not like this forever. You have to be king someday, and I’ll-”

“Yuliya…”

“What?” She tilted her head right and came face-to-face with his tired, deadpan stare. After rolling it back she admitted, “Yeah, I guess this, counts as… things we don’t need to talk about right now.”

“Thank you,” he responded.

There was a minute of silence between them – only the wind howling against the keep’s outer wall. What little light shone through the small window carried the occasional speckle of shadow… nothing big, probably a bird or a leaf. Yuliya wondered if they might see something else… “Say, Jubelo. Do you think we’ll see snow while we’re here… Jubelo?”

Her questions fell on deaf ears, as the prince was sleeping peacefully.

“Ah… okay,” she mumbled, letting her eyes sink shut and retreating into her dreams. In her last bout of consciousness for the night she slipped her hand into his under the sheets, his fingers wrapping around hers shortly after making contact.

Chapter Text

“So you can see under roofs with it?”

“To an extent… it’s a pretty vague look when I’m not in the same building.”

One month passed since they returned to Khadein after a pleasant winter holiday. It halls were unusually quiet until about a week later when students and faculty started flowing back into the city. While they expected Merric, he didn’t arrive until later in the month, apparently caught up in Altea’s crisis. Now he was back with his usual vigor and a host of questions about the Rescue staff.

“It also requires me to be close to said building, so it’s not like I can peek into every nook and cranny at my leisure,” she continued.

“And there’s a stricter range limit inside… fascinating,” he mumbled while scribbling some notes. “How often do you cast it?”

“Nowadays it’s mostly when I practice. Master Wendell requested I not use it to spy on others, and Jubelo usually stops me when he’s around.”

He nodded. “I don’t want her invading others’ privacy either.”

“No, that wouldn’t be very polite. But you have to practice every now and then, right?”

“Of course! And while Rescue only has so many charges the preparation step doesn’t use any. So if I’m frugal enough to keep just one use, I have the perfect spyglass!” she boasted with a grin.

“Oh, I’m sure! What I’d give to cast Excalibur without fading a page… it lasts longer than your staff, Princess, but I still must be mindful lest I end up with an empty tome.”

“But it can be recovered, right?” Jubelo asked.

“Absolutely! Like weapons, all tomes and staffs can be renewed, and with the proper-”

“Come again?”

Merric paused. “Huh?”

“You said we can renew our tomes and staffs,” Yuliya repeated with an irate scowl. “Are you saying I could’ve had this staff working again sooner!? Why didn’t anyone tell me!?”

Merric was smacking himself internally. Master Wendell is going to be cross with me… “I’m sure he’ll be happy to give you his reasons later, Princess Yuliya.”

She crossed her arms and reclined in her seat.

“I have one more question: does the Rescue staff have any preference for gender?”

“Not that I know of. From what Maria and I read, the Rescue staff can be used by any capable wielder. All I know is that the staff chose me,” she answered, holding it closely with a proud smile.

“I see… I was curious. From what I read, white magic in general tends to gravitate more toward women, so I wondered if that might have something to do with it.”

“I heard you talking about that before, Merric… is that something that interests you?” Jubelo inquired.

“Indeed! My Excalibur spell can only be wielded by men, Princess Elice’s Aum staff can by clerics of royal blood, and Linde’s Aura tome by women save for her late father!” he explained. “I’ve been looking for her to join us here for months… Khadein is a special place to her, and I’d love if she could fully appreciate it! But for the last year she’s wanted to stay by Princess Nyna’s side...”

Princess Nyna? So she’s one of them… “She can take all the time she needs.”

“Really? I think you and Prince Jubelo might like her, Princess. She’s-”

“We’re in no hurry. You don’t need to rush her,” she insisted.

“Um, all right then… well, do you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah, about what happened in Altea…”

“Yes, what he said. We heard there might be an attempt on Prince Marth’s life on the way to Grust last month. Did that come to pass?” Yuliya asked.

“It happened, but we thwarted it… barely. Most of our guards were drugged out cold, one of the new recruits betrayed us, and a legion of masked maniacs came for Princess Caeda and Princess Elice!”

“Masked maniacs!?”

“Mhm! Clad in yellow armor, armed with axes and wearing tribal-looking masks… they all looked the same, sounded the same and had the same strange laugh! Uwee hee hee hee!” Merric described with his best imitation. “They were taking orders from this blonde sniper with a nasty aim. It was thanks to the princesses’ quick thinking we were able to repel them. Prince Marth, with the aid of his knights and one of the squire platoons, managed to drive off Katarina’s group… she and the sniper escaped, and by the sound of it more of those masked maniacs remain at large too.”

Jubelo and Yuliya were stunned. “Wow…”

“I know, it’s crazy to think it all happened! Some of us were injured – including me – but miraculously we avoided any serious casualties. Princess Caeda departed with Ogma to see her father the day after.” He held up his notes and added, “She’s why I had so many questions about your staff. She was curious to know exactly how it works; and if she’s not back when my letter arrives, I’m sure Elice will find it a good read. Thanks for sharing all that with me, Princess Yuliya.”

“If Princess Caeda asked, it would be a disservice to refuse.”

“Ah, alright! If she has other questions, I’ll be sure to pass them on!” he assured before standing up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some catching to do with Arlen. And, um… you won’t tell Master Wendell I blabbed after staff recharging, right?”

“I won’t tell him you said it,” she replied with a smirk. “But I’m totally asking about it, and if he deduces it was you, you’re on your own.”

“Oh… I suppose I’ll have to take that chance… thank you again, Princess.”

Dear Jubelo and Julia,

You might be wondering how your kingdom has been since I last saw you. Well, I’m proud to inform you that the latest official has been the best yet! Count Aloysius Thorburn von Lang has been doing a splendid job managing the occupation, far better than the previous knave. Grust flourishes under his leadership! In fact, I’ve seen fit to step aside and leave affairs to him! There’s no better man for the job, I assure you!

If you ever feel homesick then do come back as soon as possible. Your people yearn for their prince, and Count Lang would be delighted to hear your praise himself! Tell the archbishop to arrange for your departure when he gets a chance on my behalf. We look forward to seeing you!

-General Lorenz

Yuliya could speak at length about how wrong it all sounded, but the text spoke for itself. None of it read like General Lorenz at all… it didn’t even appear to be his handwriting! Small blocks were scribbled out as if he made mistakes, especially before names, something Lorenz was keen to avoid… and upon further inspection, the letter’s sealing signet was damage. As if it had been opened and resealed before… Archbishop Wendell agreed it was suspicious.

Further concern came from students of Archanean origin, who began to inquire about the twins. Most sought to curry favors over the occupation’s “good deeds,” and a few questioned why they were still at Khadein. It quickly became unsettling… and Wendell was receiving problem students more frequently than he would like.

“Princess Yuliya was being rude? How so?”

“She told me to get lost and threatened to summon you with her staff if I didn’t,” the mage described. “The two clerics teaching her wouldn’t let me explain myself either! They ushered me out, which is why I came to you Archbishop. Maybe you can talk some sense into those ladies?”

“What is it you were trying to tell her?”

“I was curious as to what her gratitude might be for the Empire’s handling of their kingdom.”

“Gratitude towards the…?” Wendell paused, his expression shifting to mild irritation. “Sir, I believe your colleagues have already-”

“Yes, a few tried approaching her the other day with similar results,” he interrupted. “We don’t mean any harm, Archbishop. We just think the prince and princess should appreciate all the good that General Lang has done for their people.”

“Well, we receive our news from General Lorenz, and he has not shared those sentiments about your hand in reconstruction. It’s made the twins wary of your kingdom, and bothering them for favors-”

“It’s empire now, actually,” he corrected.

“Call it what you will, my point stands. Currently, the Prince and Princess would appreciate that you and your colleagues gave them space.”

The mage put his hands on his hips and complained, “Well, their attitude doesn’t reflect well on-”

His patience wearing thin, Wendell bolted from his seat and retorted, “And your attitude doesn’t reflect well on your kingdom, young man! Must I inform Lord Gotoh of your misbehavior?”

“Archbishop Gotoh!? You, you wouldn’t dare!”

“I can and I will, if you and your compatriots don’t give them the space they desire! Now kindly leave my office, and don’t let me hear of this again!” he ordered.

“Grrr… you…” Whatever the mage intended to say next, he swallowed his pride, bowed with a half-hearted “Yes, Archbishop Wendell” and left, slamming the door behind him.

Wendell let out a heavy sigh and sank back into his seat. This was the fourth time this week… though he didn’t share Jubelo and Yuliya’s depth of distrust, their persistence started to sour on him. If this continued he might have to-

“FUCK OFF!”

The archbishop had no time to finish that train of thought; his apprentice’s furious scream followed by violent crashes spurred him from his office. A pair of panicked mages bolted past him on the way out. Hurrying to Prince Jubelo’s classroom, he found a sizzling black mark on the wall opposite the door and a seething Arlen in its doorway.

“Fucking vultures,” he snarled under his breath.

“Easy Arlen, you mustn’t sound so harsh in the Prince’s presence,” Merric urged in an uneasy tone. His eyes popped when he spotted the archbishop in the hall.

“Merric, there’s no good in playing nice. Those pests needed a good jolt… to… oh.” The thunder mage trailed off when he finally caught on to Merric’s hurried gestures and realized Master Wendell was right behind him. “M-Master Wendell, I can explain…”

“What’s going on!?”

Princess Yuliya rushed down the opposite hall closely followed by the clerics. She sniffed the air and took one quick look at the wall before glowering at her usual suspect. “What did you do!?”

“Princess, that was not aimed at your brother!” he replied in an angry yet defensive tone. “I had to do something to drive off those Archanean beggars after they wouldn’t take no for an answer!”

Yuliya’s glare softened. “Archanean, huh?”

“Yes. They refused to leave him alone, so I gave them a warning shot.” Although I sure wish I hit one…

“Is Prince Jubelo alright?” Wendell asked.

“Um, present…”

Merric and Arlen stepped back into the classroom and moved aside while the others crowded around the doorway. The young prince was crawling out from under his desk; Yuliya hurriedly pushed her way in to help him stand up. “Are you alright Jubelo!? Did they hurt you?”

“N-no, I’m fine,” he assured, although he was still quivering in fright.

Wendell shot Arlen a disapproving glare. “Arlen, I warned you about letting your temper fly.”

“Master, something must be done about these intrusions! They’re getting out of hand!”

“I agree. Sarah and I sent another to the Archbishop’s office not long ago for interrupting the Princess’s lesson. He was the fourth this week!” Helen added.

“Get rid of them all! Have them expelled! Do something!” Yuliya demanded.

“Yes, please! Make it stop! I can deal with Arlen’s outbursts but they are too much!” Jubelo pleaded.

“I can’t expel students for such a minor infraction, even several times over,” Wendell rebutted. “Would you prefer if we moved your lessons to our residency?”

“Yes! Anything! I, we don’t feel safe with them around!” Her brother nodded rapidly in agreement.

Merric tried to assure, “Princess, I’m sure they don’t you mean any har-”

“If they don’t mean any harm then they’ve done a shit job telling us!” she barked back.

Gasps circulated the room. “Princess!!”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me! Even after you, Master Wendell and everyone else asks, they still stalk and hawk us to no end! If this were our kingdom we’d have them-”

Wendell held a finger to her mouth. “You may stop now, Princess, I’ve heard enough. Miss Helen, Miss Sarah and I will escort you back to our dwellings immediately.” He then glanced to Merric and instructed, “Merric, go ahead of us and ensure our route is clear. Afterwards I want you to inform Mr. Rabenschrier about the change in our arrangements.”

“…Understood, Master Wendell,” he answered, scooping up his books real quick.

Arlen asked, “And me?”

Wendell pointed to the singed wall opposite the door. “I believe you’ve set yourself up for this afternoon. Get a bucket and brush and see me when you’re done.”

He sighed. “Of course… I’ll have it spotless, Master.”

And so, in the interest of their peace of mind, the twins’ world shrank to the confines of Master Wendell’s residence. Most lessons took place in Wendell and Arlen’s private studies, their instructors bringing in as many learning aids as was practical. Only on a few quiet days did they venture out to the rest of the city, always under the watch of a trusted convoy. Being cooped up in their living quarters grew dull fast – it felt like they were imprisoned again – but was preferable to being sought by Archanean roaches. Their wards received frequent questions about them, but at risk of severe punishment, none dared to intrude upon the Archbishop’s domain. Arlen joked about inflicting corporal punishment on those who tried, and while Merric and Wendell vocally objected, it got a laugh out of Yuliya and even Jubelo. For harassing royalty, that certainly wasn’t out of the question.

Letters from their kingdom offered little assurance, unfortunately. Two more arrived in the span of their confinement, both the same dubious quality as the last. Master Wendell had yet to send a reply, as none of them were sure how to approach it… Yuliya half-joked it was sent to the wrong place since her name was misspelled. Maybe it was a fluke, and the next letter would be a return to form?

No such luck. Misspellings kept occurring – first Yubelo and Yulia, then Yubello and Yumina of all things – along with insisting they return to Grust, but that wasn’t the worst part. “Lorenz” believed the oversight was unnecessary and wrote he considered disbanding the Sable Order… what!? The twins’ jaws dropped when they read that line… the Sable Order wasn’t just some police force, they were the pride of Grust’s military! SOMETHING was very wrong if he truly suggested that!

While formulating how they might respond to that outrageous sin, Master Wendell opened the door after a pair of quick knocks. His cheeks were flushed and his forehead appeared slick with sweat. “Hah, hah, pardon my sudden entry, but I have dire news…”

“Is it another foot-in-mouth sheet of drivel from this so-called General Lorenz?” Yuliya asked.

“No, but it relates to said sheets of drivel.” He revealed an envelope with a different signet, that of Talys upon closer inspection. “King Mostyn wrote to enlighten us on the situation in Grust.”

Jubelo was hesitant to accept the envelope; after ten seconds of waiting, Yuliya snatched it herself. She hastily opened the flap, pulled it the letter and unfolded the letter.

To the esteemed Archbishop Wendell,

As promised I continue to assess the situation in Grust, and I fear things have taken a turn for the worst. General Lorenz wrote in early December about concerns over the fourth reconstruction official being retracted despite his approval. I’ve been keeping an ear to Archanean affairs too, and an alarming story is circulating: against vocal opposition, King Hardin has pardoned Count Aloysius von Lang for his crimes and restored his title. This man has long been accused of foul play and was arrested for betraying his kingdom to Dolhr. There have been raucous calls for his execution, and his trials have been repeatedly delayed… why the King would pardon him fully, however, is beyond me.

Count Lang… Yuliya and Jubelo exchanged glances. That was the man named in their recent letters!

This along with other changes in rhetoric worries me. Although I cannot intimately involve my kingdom, I sent a trusted agent to Grust to assist General Lorenz in case the situation collapses. According to their recent letter, Count Lang has indeed replaced the last official, branding himself General of the Grustian Occupation Army. His recent policy changes have reversed course with a goal of total subjugation.

Subjugation!? The twins’ eyes widened and their faces grew pale as they continued reading.

Archbishop, please be mindful of any letters from Grust, and whatever you do, don’t send the Prince and Princess home! I fear what might lie in store for them… and I believe your correspondence will be compromised. My agent has reported that General Lang has Grust on lockdown, prohibiting all travel and word in and out of the country. If you need further council, I am a few quill strokes away.

King Mostyn Talys
1st King of the Island Kingdom of Talys

Yuliya set the letter down and curled up on her bed tightly against Jubelo. Their faces were downcast and distraught, more afraid than the archbishop had seen them since their first encounter.

“Why… why is this happening?” she muttered through a cracking voice. She and her brother trembled against one another, tears starting to flow down their cheeks. Crying wouldn’t solve anything but what else could they do? Their kingdom, their home was being colonized by their suzerain, and they were powerless to do anything about it… they felt so powerless.

“Princess Yuliya… Prince Jubelo…”

At the archbishop’s voice, they tilted their gazes up to face him… he was leaning in close, arms outstretched with tears welling up in his own eyes.

“I won’t let them have you, children. I promise,” he assured, taking them in a gentle embrace. The twins leaned heavily into him while they continued weeping and wouldn’t let go for a while after. He stayed with them the rest of the day while they planned an adequate response to King Mostyn.

Chapter Text

Letters from Grust continued to arrive as spring turned to summer, and they continued paying no heed. General Lange’s masquerades sounded more and more desperate, “General Lorenz” saying that Emperor Hardin grew impatient with the young heirs’ absence. He said mages who studied at Khadein spoke of them… this infuriated the twins. They suspected their harassment wasn’t for nothing, and now they had proof! It only added to their frustration over the lack of credible accounts from Grust… even King Mostyn and his agent couldn’t offer anything with the lockdown.

It became harder to focus on their magical studies with their homeland’s crisis fresh on their minds. Instead, Yuliya was intent on drilling her brother with renewed fervor. Grust needed capable leadership more than ever, be it as ruler or rebel leader; even if he was a few years off, he had to be ready. Tiresome though it was, Jubelo slogged through his lessons both to appease his sister and out of the same genuine desire. Now if only he could retain it… they were so rushed they constantly had to revisit subjects.

Yuliya shook her head while comparing Jubelo’s tracing to her book. “Not good enough. Some of these roads are off, and Kent Road curves inwards around Central Grust.”

“Oh, sorry Yuliya… I just remembered it was the eastern seaboard’s main road, so…”

“Yes, but there are no major settlements along the coast at this bend. A detour brings it through-” Knocking interrupted her. “We’re studying!”

“Apologies Princess, I have a guest I’d like to introduce you to,” Merric replied.

“If it’s one of those pestering students, forget it!”

“Oh no, it’s none of them! Just a close friend of mine visiting from abroad.”

Merric opened the door and led inside a young woman about his age. She had long, coppery brown hair tied back in a massive ponytail, a golden circlet crowned with a green gem beneath the bangs. Her outfit was striking, confusing to some extent; a light pink rode with smatterings of orange, gold armbands and a pair of sandals laced around her lower legs. In some regards it resembled Khadein’s fashion, but it was clearly different… Khadeinian women, for one, had the decency to wear a skirt. Was there anything under that robe at all? Neither twin felt comfortable looking at her, for one reason or another.

Upon seeing them avert their eyes he assured, “It’s alright, she’s a friend! No need to be shy! This is Linde, she came to Khadein to-”

“Linde?” Yuliya raised her head and asked, “The same person you said was close with Princess Nyna?”

“It’s Empress now, actually, but yes!” Linde stepped forward and gave a curtsy… or the closest equivalent without a skirt. “Linde Sahrada, of Archanea! I’ve been Lady Nyna’s apprentice and lady in waiting since… um, why are you glaring at me, Princess?”

“Do you realize what you empress and emperor have been up to? What they’ve been condoning in our kingdom’s borders?!” she demanded.

“I, um… I, thought we were helping with the reconstruction effort?”

“That’s not what we’ve been hearing about General Lang!”

Linde gasped. “Wait, Lang’s in charge of the-!? …Why was he assigned to Grust?”

Jubelo glanced up and questioned, “You didn’t know?”

“No! All I knew was Count Lang was absolved of his crimes half a year ago! I didn’t realize he was assigned to Grust… he really shouldn’t be free in the first place, though.”

Yuliya turned away and muttered, “Some apprentice you are.”

Merric skimmed around the room. Jubelo and Yuliya hid behind their book, Linde looked down anxiously at her feet… not how he envisioned their introduction. “H-hey now, Princess Yuliya. Prince Jubelo. Khadein’s an independent city. No need to bring up external politics in this space.”

Yuliya squinted at him before returning to her book.

“Anyway… Linde is the daughter of the late Pontifex Miloah. He studied here under the White Sage long ago, and now that things are peaceful Linde finally has a chance to visit her homeland!”

“Actually Merric, this is only my second time here… but, everything else is true, and my father told me many great things about it! In fact, this outfit he made for me draws inspiration from Khadein’s fashion!” She spun left and right to show it off. “What do you think? Do you like it? It’s very cozy in-”

“No.”

Linde stopped with a deflated stare, her arms slumping to her sides. “Oh… okay. Have it your way, Princess.” She glanced to Merric for other ideas, and he mouthed “Your father.” Oh, right! “Anyway, Merric told me about your own father’s passing, and what happened with Gharnef. As someone else who’s suffered under-”

“Don’t talk about that,” the princess grumbled. Jubelo quietly kept his gaze pointed down.

“A-ah, I’m sorry… I get that you’d be, sensitive about it, and…”

“Hmph.” Yuliya irritably remained fixated on her book… there was a brief silence, until she heard a small footstep. Out of paranoia she glanced back up –Linde was curiously staring at her while approaching. She grabbed her Rescue staff and snapped, “What are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry Princess, I was just admiring your brooch. Is that a ruby or a garn-”

She glared and pointed her staff menacingly at the intruder. “Back away, before I have Merric remove you from our presence.”

Linde nervously backpedaled a pace and exchanged startled glances with Merric. “Ahah, that’s a… really nice staff you have there too, Princess…”

“Oh, that would be the Rescue staff! It chose her much like Excalibur chose me!” he exclaimed, hoping he finally found a good talking point. “It allows her to-”

Jubelo requested, “Um, Merric? If you’re going to describe it at length, can you do it outside?”

“Yeah, we don’t need to hear this, and we don’t have any business with her!”

“Oh, um, I see! Very well… maybe once you’re less busy, we can try-”

“Don’t,” Yuliya curtly interjected. “Get her out of here and leave her out. Now.”

“Ah… all right, Princess. Pardon our intrusion… Linde, how about we try attending a class?”

“Okay, Merric...”

Despite turning towards the door, her eyes still pointed to the twins… they didn’t return the gesture. Yuliya had already taken their book back up and they resumed their reading, or at least they feigned reading. Either way, before crossing the doorway she inquired, “Princess Yuliya?”

Against her best interests, the princess grumpily scrolled her eyes back up.

“I’m truly sorry if I offended you or Prince Jubelo in any way… and, when I return to Pales I promise-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Leave,” she hissed.

“Ah… all… all right.”

Defeatedly Linde walked out and carefully closed the door behind her, trying not to make a sound. There was a tense pad of silence for half a minute before Yuliya set her book face-down and said, “I don’t trust a word she said. What about you?”

“I dunno, she didn’t seem to mean harm, but… Nyna’s apprentice? Not knowing what’s going on? That sounds fishy to me,” Jubelo replied.

“Yeah, what gives? She’s the Empress’s personal confidant and she can’t tell us… um…”

“I get it Yuliya… what you were going to say and what you meant.”

“Good. Um…” Feeling off to the side she found the metal pole, its staff still warm from when she last gripped it. “I’m, having a hard time concentrating with her around… mind if I…?”

He nodded. “Please. I’ll be happier knowing when she’s gone.”

To their relief, Linde didn’t return. She was staying with Merric at his dormitory… he asked if they’d be willing to try again, but the answer was always no. All remained well for the next two days, the only difference being Merric’s absence from the prince’s lessons. So be it – he and Arlen were accustomed enough that solo teaching would suffice for the week, and neither twin wanted her around. Etzel had largely faded into the background, occupied with the more arcane studies he now directed.

Come mid-morning the third day however, something unusual was happening. Helen and Sarah told them their lessons were canceled, and soon Master Wendell himself joined them. According to the archbishop there was strange activity in ruins just northwest of the city; shady figures passed in and out, causing concern for the surrounding settlements. He had dispatched a party led by Arlen and Merric to investigate, and for the twins’ comfort elected to remain with them until they returned.

It'd be greater cause for comfort if he told them what was going on, though.

“And you’re sure this has nothing to do with Linde?” Yuliya asked for the fifth time.

“We’re certain of it Princess, even our Archanean students are worried,” Helen answered.

“It’s as Miss Helen says. In fact, Linde agreed to accompany the investigation. I’m sure she’s putting in a fine effort like she did during the war,” Wendell added.

“Uh huh…”

“Is there something else you want to hear, Princess?”

“Yes, I’d like to know more about what’s going on right now,” she requested stubbornly. “These short stories are pleasant, but they don’t detract from the fact there might be a crisis close to Khadein, and we’re worried sick as it is!”

“Princess Yuliya, Lord Wendell already told you, we only know so much!” Helen replied.

“If it helps, I recall hearing wyvern screeches around when everyone was called indoors, and the villagers speak of bandit incursions from the Marmothod cutting closer than usual,” Sarah mentioned. “We’ve all been on edge lately… still, I have faith in our Mage Corps and mercenary troops to deal with it.”

“Yes, I assure you that although Khadein charts a course of neutrality, we are well-equipped to repel the occasional incursion from the northern wastes,” the archbishop promised.

“And, how often does this happen?” Jubelo wondered.

“Usually once every month or every other month, typically in the summer months. It’s not out of the ordinary for July that we have to deal with this sort of disturbance of the peace.”

“Yes, and I’m sure we’ve been here through a few already. Nothing special about this one at all,” Yuliya sarcastically quipped.

Wendell’s brow wrinkled. “Princess Yuliya, I’ll say it again: we only know so much about the current threat. It might be the standard fare, but we want to take every precaution while-”

“Master Wendell.”

The archbishop stopped speaking and turned to address his student in the entranceway. “Yes Arlen? I take it you and Merric are finished?”

“Yes Master, the threat has passed. We would like to discuss it with you in your office,” he replied, then glanced toward the watchful twins. “You two have nothing to worry about. Helen and Sarah will keep you company while the Archbishop and I discuss the aftermath.”

“Oh really?” Yuliya retorted, rising from her seat. “When you put it like that it’s not reassuring.”

“Princess Yuliya, please stay here. I’ll brief you and the Prince when I return,” Wendell promised, joining his student. He sighed upon hearing the scuffle erupt behind them – Princess Yuliya no doubt reaching for her Rescue staff while Helen and the others tried to stop her.

Arlen murmured, “Will they be able to hear us from your office?”

“No, Yuliya has tried before. With these buildings she doesn’t have the range.”

“Thank god she can’t read minds then… this is something they cannot be allowed to hear.”

“…Is it really that serious?”

“Exceptionally serious. Etzel has it in your office, we’ll explain when we get there.”

“It? So you brought something back,” Wendell mulled, pausing to consider what it might be. “And what of Merric and Linde? Are they alright?”

“None of us were seriously harmed. Merric is escorting an unexpected pair of helpers out of the city… and trying to talk some sense into his friend.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Could you elaborate?”

“She stormed off after… you’ll have to be patient, we mustn’t speak of it publicly.”

Under mounting pressure the archbishop hastened his steps, his apprentice following in suit. Several worried students tried flagging him down but he couldn’t offer them the time right now… it likely had to do with the issue at hand anyway. He had to get to the bottom of it first, lest he sprout rumors and misinformation that might distract from the real story.

After what felt like an arduous trek to his office, Arlen opened the door for his teacher where Etzel was waiting. A tome-sized object wrapped in cloth secured with an unusual seal sat on his desk… whatever it was, it contained a power Etzel saw fit to contain.

Etzel rose from his seat and bade, “Good of you to come, Archbishop. Are we alone?”

“Princess Yuliya and her staff are being kept in my residence, where they cannot hear us,” he replied, approaching the desk. “What is this? …Nay, I’ll start with the circumstances. How did you find it?”

“We encountered a pocket of heretic mages and some underlings in the ruins,” Arlen explained. “They fought with their lives to guard this tome. It appears they were trying to perform a resurrection ritual.”

“Resurrection ritual!? Why on earth would they… may I see the tome?”

“Of course. It’s one you should be familiar with.”

Wendell held his breath and anxiously observed as Etzel undid the seal and unfolded the cloth. His eyes went wide and gasped when he saw the tome: a book black as coal with a deformed and monstrous-looking skull adorning the cover. “My word! …Do my eyes deceive me?”

“No Archbishop, it is what you suspect: the Forbidden Howls of Resentment, Imhullu,” Etzel answered before immediately setting about to resealing it.

“Imhullu? … So, they were connected to Gharnef after all…”

“Based on the offering and the rites, we concluded that they planned to revive the Dark Pontifex,” Arlen speculated. “Fat lot of good it’d do. They drew the spell circle incorrectly… if they succeeded it might create a morph in his likeness, but it wouldn’t carry the soul that drives-”

“How do you know the specifics, Arlen?” Wendell suspiciously inquired.

“…It is, merely something I read in passing...”

Etzel retorted, “Would it be the same passing that disturbed one of my books?”

“Etzel, your book was-”

“Strangely misplaced on its shelf, carried by the whimsy of the wind I imagine,” he babbled without a lick of humor. “Honestly, if this keeps up I might have to start warding my tomes shut. Maybe I’ll add an alarm ward, or one that extends your extremities for improper handling, like the fingers or the nose.”

Wendell raised a hand to interrupt his student’s retort. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, let’s stay on topic… I suppose this is why Linde stormed off afterwards?”

“That’s because she tried to torch it with an Elfire on the spot. Then when Merric and I do the sensible thing and stop her she crows about how we’re making a big mistake and blows us off!” Arlen ranted. “Pfft, crazy woman. Surely an experienced mage knows how dangerous improperly disposing of dark-”

“Oh, like you would know?”

He whipped around and barked, “Etzel, all I’m saying is it’s common knowledge-”

“It’s anything but common! Dark magic is scarcely spoken of in these halls, for good reason I might add!”

“Well maybe it wouldn’t be so uncommon if you stopped being so damned stingy and-”

“Enough! Cut it out, this instant!” Wendell commanded, forcing himself between the bickering mages. Then he turned to Etzel and inquired, “I believe you know the location of the vault?”

“You yourself insisted one versed in dark magic must be well-acquainted.”

He walked around his desk, opened the right drawer and dug out a key. “Then I expect you will take all the necessary precautions to stow this tome securely, and to oversee both lock and key until we can properly dispose of this sacrilegious book.”

Etzel nodded and accepted the key. “Of course, Lord Wendell. Your trust won’t be misplaced.”

Arlen could not believe what he was seeing. Him? A scholar who, well-respected or not, had not even two years’ seniority to his post being entrusted with the forbidden vault’s contents? Hastily he announced, “I shall show him-”

“That won’t be necessary. It is something he alone is best qualified for. You’ll stay with me, Arlen.”

“Agreed.” Exasperation with his peer led Etzel to carry himself snidely towards the exit. “And I believe the minute or two that you held it was more than enough!”

Arlen gasped. “Etzel! You… hey! Get back here! I’m talking to y-”

The door slammed shut. Incredulous, he started toward the exit himself, only to be halted by a firm grasp of the hand.

“Arlen, we need to talk.”

He spun around and replied, “Master, I cannot allow him to treat me so disrespectfully!”

“Etzel respects you, Arlen. He tells me in private what a bright and dedicated young man you are.”

“Then why do you allow him to walk all over me? Why do you allow him to impede my studies!?”

“He’s not doing it out of spite or malice, Arlen. I asked him not to-”

“What!?”

Wendell jolted when his student seized him tightly by the shoulders and pulled him in close, fuming at what he had just heard.

“YOU have been standing in the way of my progress!? YOU!?”

Undaunted, the archbishop calmly but resolutely took Arlen’s hands, pried them off and lowered them to his sides. “Yes Arlen, it was me. I warned Mr. Rabenschrier not to teach you more than he judges you ready. And based on what I just heard, I was right to do so!”

“Right to… you don’t believe in my abilities, do you!?”

“On most subjects, I do. But this is a different matter ent-”

“Then why do you insist on interfering with my studies?”

“Arlen, please! Slow down a second!” Wendell urged, trying to keep their argument under control.

“Slow down!? You’ve been telling me to slow down behind my back for months! What do you expect me to do, drag my knuckles on it!?”

“Only because dark magic is a completely different field to what you’re used to! It’s dangerous! You’re not ready for some of the concepts-”

“Maybe I’d be ready if you stopped standing in my way!”

“Arlen, listen to me! If we did that, you’d endanger-”

“You and Etzel are more of a danger to me, old man! If you would stop coddling me and let me figure this shit out for myself, you wouldn’t need to-”

“NO! If Etzel and I didn’t act on our objections you’d be DEAD!!”

Arlen was stunned silent. His pointer finger went limp when the archbishop grabbed his wrist.

“You’ve been here longer than most, started earlier than most. You had the privilege of growing up in Khadein’s halls under one of its esteemed bishops, now its archbishop. You forged your own magical talent where you had none, and made me all the prouder for it. That’s why you think nothing can stop you if you set your mind to it… well, I have news for you, son! Dark magic cares for NONE of that! It speaks to your strengths so that it can pry at your weaknesses, and if we let you step further it would seize on that pride of yours and pull you under HEADFIRST!”

“… M-Master?”

“I don’t need to study the ancient texts to see what’s plain in front of me! You cut corners, pry into others’ personal space over the thought they might have wronged you and run that foul mouth whenever you don’t get your way!” Wendell ranted. “Etzel warned me you wouldn’t last a week with the intermediate material without being corrupted beyond recognition! What makes you think you’re ready for that blasphemous scripture, forged from the spirit of a bitter, self-absorbed madman under the inferno of the darkness itself!? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK SO!?”

Arlen remained speechless. The room was completely dead – not even the subtle sound of breathing.

Finally, after a few moments silence Wendell’s fury broke. His grip slipped from Arlen’s wrist, his chest began to heave and his vicious glare collapsed into exhaustion. After a heavy sigh he said, “Arlen, my son… please, listen to me. I know I sound harsh, but that’s how worried I am for you! I love you, Arlen! I want you to succeed, truly!”

“…And yet, you don’t trust me?”

“Oh, I trust you, Arlen! I trust you with many things, more than anyone else! At my age, you’re the closest I have to family!” he assured, trying to strike a more positive tone. “But sometimes we need to draw the line for each other, and this is where I must draw it for you. Please Arlen, promise me you’ll let this subject lie until you are ready. Mr. Rabenschrier tells me you aren’t emotionally prepared for dark magic, and on this I believe him more than I believe you.”

“…You… really don’t?”

“For now, I cannot. So please, leave it be until the day I can.” He gave Arlen a quick hug, then walked behind his desk to sit in his chair. “And I promise, Mr. Rabenschrier is more than willing to help you work toward that goal. In the meantime, can you think of a more acceptable alibi for the masses?”

“King Michalis? Are you sure it was him?”

Night could not fall soon enough after such a trying day. Linde asked for time alone this evening, so Merric was able to join his peer and teacher. They had to be careful what they shared with the twins two rooms over, but it wouldn’t hurt to discuss the lesser details… there were a few that Arlen and Etzel glossed over earlier in the chaos.

“Positive. He recognized me as Prince Marth’s friend and corrected me sharply when I addressed him as a prince,” Merric explained. “We don’t know why he was in those ruins, but he had a separate agenda and seemed to want those heretics gone too. We agreed to a temporary truce and he left without issue when he was finished.”

“How strange. I thought for certain Queen Minerva slew him...”

“Resurrection magic exists, but I don’t recall Princess Elice ever raising Aum for him. That’s the only source I believe could revive him so cleanly.”

“I’ve read about other means of revival that might suffice, but they’re in far-off lands,” Arlen mentioned. “All I have to say about this rogue king is that he fights well and has good taste in dress. Better than that flamboyant peahen dogging him at every turn…”

Wendell scratched his head. “I beg your pardon?”

“He was referring to a dancer. Phina’s her name, and she was separated from her performing troupe and cornered by barbarians when Michalis saved her. She followed him to the ruins and he left her with us afterwards,” Merric elaborated.

“Ah. Well, I hope she’s alright.”

“I think she’ll be fine. She found a quick gig in the outskirts just east of here. She tried to strike up a conversation with Linde on the way out, but…” He appeared downtrodden, lowering his eyes to his lightly kicking feet. “She’s not exactly in the mood for new friends.”

“I’m sure chancing upon Gharnef’s tome dug up unpleasant memories.”

“It’s not just that, Master. This vacation has taken one wrong turn after another… first meeting the twins doesn’t go well…”

“Master Wendell and I warned you repeatedly, Merric. It’s your own fault for ignoring us.”

“Yes, I know Arlen, now please! Let me finish!” he protested, taking a few quick breaths to calm himself. “Anyway, that was just the start of it. She’s been more reclusive than I hoped, and trying to attend lectures was a disaster.”

“I heard about incidents from the other instructors. What happened?” Wendell asked.

“The first time, everyone’s attention fell on her when I introduced her as Pontifex Miloah’s daughter. Why, the teacher even asked if she might lead the class with him! …She was running for the door before he even finished,” Merric explained. “I convinced her to give it another shot yesterday, on the condition she attend anonymously wearing a full-body cloak. It worked for the first half of the class, but suspicions grew and she left when somebody asked… she said there would be no third chance.”

“Ah, I see… sounds like her reputation has been causing trouble.”

“Yes, but I don’t understand! Linde’s father was a member of our community, I thought for sure she’d want a part in it! … And several of our peers wanted to get to know her better.”

“Merric, she was constantly placing you between her and everyone else. How much does that say about wanting to be part of our community?” Arlen questioned.

“Arlen, I was just saying! She’s a mage too, she’s one of us! She should be…”

Wendell calmly raised both palms to silence them. “If you’ll allow me… Merric, we understand your desire for her to feel at home, but that’s her choice. In his time as Lord Gotoh’s apprentice, Pontifex Miloah was never the most sociable. He and Gharnef attended a few classes but he mostly kept to his peer, his teacher and himself; and as their studies progressed a rift formed between the two students. I know little of his life after Khadein, but I recall similar accounts from Archaneans. Bishop Boah once told me he was quite reserved and quick to retreat into his private life, rarely attending social events… with how Linde takes after him, it’s not surprising she shies away from attention.”

Arlen added, “That does beg the question, though. Why would they choose Archanea when Khadein has so much more to offer? I’m sure Merric thinks the same.”

“I-I would never tell her to abandon Archanea, but, being from the founder’s teachings…”

“That was Miloah’s choice, as it is his daughter’s to follow his example. We welcome people from all walks of life, and we mustn’t be critical of those who return to them.”

“I suppose you have a point, Master Wendell,” Merric admittedly. He tried to ignore Arlen quietly rolling his eyes. “Still, I wish things didn’t turn out so poorly. She was supposed to stay at least a week, and I was hoping for longer! But she’s already dead set on going home tomorrow… sigh… this was supposed to be more exciting. There’s so much of the city I have yet to show her, and she’s only visited the library and the observatory more than once.”

Arlen snorted. “Hmph. Shows what you know about being a guide, Merric… it’s a miracle she even calls you her friend to begin wi-”

Wendell slapped the armrest of his seat. “Arlen Rothfeder, that’s the last straw.”

“Master Wendell, I was only-”

He cut him off and berated, “You are entitled to your own opinions, but I will not tolerate brandishing them to trample others’ for disagreeing! If you have nothing kinder to say, then go to bed!”

“But, I… ah…” Arlen slowly rose and hissed, “Fine, I’ll see you in the morning… good night, Merric.”

While closing the door behind him, Arlen overheard Master Wendell saying, “There there, Merric, this is only a misunderstanding…” As if he was the misunderstanding here… I love you, Arlen. I trust you, Arlen… bah, what a fucking farce. It was clear that despite fifteen years as a full-fledged Khadeinian, Master Wendell trusted him the least. Entrusting the forbidden vault to first-year faculty, the legendary Excalibur spell to an Altean airhead… with how he blabbed about his prince and princess he’d likely abscond with it entirely. Just like that girl’s father took Aura and ran decades ago… some examples they set.

Maybe that wraith he encountered earlier was right. Friendship, love, trust? It was all fiction… good for nothing but stringing along a couple dupes until they were no longer useful. Well, he wouldn’t be fooled by Merric’s lollygagging façade any longer… once the opportunity presented itself-

“Hey.”

Arlen snapped out of his frenzied thoughts as he was filling a glass of water. Princess Yuliya and Prince Jubelo flanked the archways peering into the kitchen. “…What do you want?”

Jubelo timidly asked, “Uh, it’s about her… Linde. Do you think, she’s… one of them?”

“It’s awfully suspicious of Empress Nyna’s apprentice to show up now,” Yuliya clarified. “Do you think she’s in league with the other students? That she used Merric to try and spy on us?”

“I can’t say for certain. She asks questions about you, and you’re right to be suspicious.” While flicking a stray lock from his face, he noticed the staff the princess carried. “You’ve been listening in on us?”

“Can you blame us?”

“No…” He raised an eyebrow to the prince.

“I, I can make an exception. Just for this. I want to know too…”

“Have it your way… if you want my opinion, I don’t think so. For a pontifex’s daughter she seems awfully clueless… everyone sings her praises but I’m not impressed.”

“From you, that’s not saying much,” Yuliya countered.

“Believe what you will Princess, I only know so much about her, and personally I don’t care.” He paused to take a gulp. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s nothing but a distraction for Merric.”

“Oh, so this is about him.”

Arlen’s eyebrow twitched. “Princess, have you forgotten our agreement several months back?”

“U-um, maybe? …It’s been, more than half a year, okay?”

“Well, don’t do it again,” he snarled, stomping through the doorway past them while grumbling inaudibly. “Fucking Merric… had to bring up that…”

Jubelo and Yuliya stared wide-eyed until he walked out of sight before turning to each other. “Sister, why do you have to bring that up again?”

“I forgot, okay? That happened months ago… and, well, I wasn’t expecting him to get that angry.”

“Yeah… for a second I thought he was going to crack his cup.”

“Mhm, and he sounded really angry towards Merric earlier,” she mused, looking down at her staff.

“I heard them through the walls… I’m worried about him. The way he’s thinking about Merric… it, just doesn’t seem very healthy.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not bug him about it anymore. Not tonight, anyway,” she suggested, leading him back to their room. Good thing this staff didn’t choose HIM.

Chapter Text

Khadein settled down after Linde’s departure, but there remained a lingering sense of unease. While the Archbishop insisted the incident was resolved, many were dissatisfied with the breadth of his story given the cult’s alleged ties to Gharnef. Word of King Michalis sparked further curiosity, particularly from Jubelo and Yuliya… in all their time together Maria never spoke a word of his survival. They elected to write to her for answers, as it was unlikely anyone in Khadein understood the circumstances better. Their caretakers’ silence on the subjects frustrated, but all they could do was wait for them to change their minds… the Rescue staff had limits, and both parties were keenly aware.

It caused Wendell even more frustration, constantly approached with questions he could not answer honestly. The rampant discourse began waning after a week, but he remained on the edge of his seat. There was one person with which he could be open, one whom he anxiously anticipated… finally, while reviewing a proposal for laboratory renovations, he heard that voice.

“Archbishop Wendell.”

“Hm?” He recognized the White Sage’s voice but it sounded more like an echo… glancing up, he saw a blue apparition phase into view before him. “Ah, good day Lord Gotoh… I’ve been expecting you.”

“I shall await you in the vault. We have much to discuss,” he said before the image vanished.

Half his tension went with it, relieved the end of this debacle was in sight. He shelved the papers, locked his office and set out to meet Lord Gotoh. Questions sprouted from the students and peers he passed as usual, but now he could promise a proper resolution with the White Sage himself. That made a world of difference, his colleagues letting him go with more satisfied expressions. It lightened the load over his shoulders, put more energy into his stride and made a normally arduous trip feeling weightless.

Security let him enter Khadein’s underground catacombs without their usual protocol, cleared by Lord Gotoh in advance. The door to the forbidden chamber was unlocked and cracked open, a grave error when not in use… given its current occupant however, this was not a problem. The sage stood at its center with the object of concern cradled in his arm, a Thoron tome in hand just in case.

He stowed his tome upon Wendell’s arrival and greeted, “Pardon my choice of entrance, Archbishop. I could not delay seeing this for myself.”

“Understandable, Lord Gotoh. It was you who built this vault in the first place,” Wendell assured, shutting the door and locking its deadbolt. “I expect Linde told you everything?”

“I cleared my schedule as soon as possible. It only took undoing half the seal before its hateful energies started seeping out… there’s no mistaking it. This is Imhullu.”

Wendell exposited, “What’s most curious is the state we found it in… placed at the center of a spell circle, an offering for a resurrection ritual. Etzel and Arlen claim it was doomed to fail given the runes were drawn incorrectly, but it worries us that anyone would try.”

“I worry their efforts may not be necessary.”

Wendell raised an eyebrow. “…Come again?”

“The Darksphere. Gharnef stole it and drew upon its power to transcribe Imhullu in the first place. Its whereabouts are still unknown… was it among your findings?”

“No… elaborate, if you may.”

“In the hands of mere mortals the Darksphere is extremely dangerous, capable of trapping the holder’s soul with prolonged exposure. It takes monumental willpower to resist… most ‘owners’ are corrupted beyond saving within hours, even minutes of contact. That’s why I guarded it so closely after hunting down its previous vessel,” he explained. “However, Gharnef is different. Despite prolonged exposure, he retained a strong sense of self. It’s unthinkable the sphere would allow that its power be tapped without extracting the ultimate toll.”

“And this ties into the resurrection ritual?”

“It does not tie into the ritual directly, but suggests it would have been superfluous.”

“Superfluous…” The archbishop gasped. “Lord Gotoh, are you saying…!?”

He nodded solemnly. “For the Darksphere to lend Gharnef its power, it must have taken a liking to his soul and motivations, enough to anoint him as its avatar. In doing so, it’s possible the sphere will resurrect him to continue pursuing its own ends, the destruction of all order in the world.”

Wendell could not believe his ears. “Then, you’re saying… Gharnef may have already returned?”

“I cannot confirm, nor the when or where, but it’s a strong possibility. I combed his lair in Thabes three times over after Prince Marth defeated the Shadow Dragon and found no trace. For all we know, he could have regained autonomy shortly after we left.” Upon noticing the archbishop’s forlorn stare, Gotoh added, “It was not for nothing. If we let him escape he would have resumed meddling far sooner. I’m investigating the matter thoroughly to avoid making rash conclusions… and to better prepare us.”

“Regardless, we must do something to contain the Darksphere when we do find it.”

“Correct. There is a way to seal away its power, but it requires all five spheres… the Lifesphere still eludes me. The Geosphere is in Prince Marth’s hands, the Lightsphere in mine, and the Starpshere…” There was a pause before he reluctantly reached beneath his robes. “…is something else I came to discuss with you. Archbishop Wendell, please try to contain your shock.”

“Contain my… my word!”

Now Lord Wendell could not believe his eyes. The Starsphere was normally deep blue like the night sky, its surface illuminated by the twelve constellations of the zodiac. Occasionally it shone a milky light blue when under stress. What Lord Gotoh presented was neither: a black sphere with a dull sheen, slightly smaller than the original sphere. He felt a flickering presence emanating when the sage placed it in his palm, a mere scrap of the cosmic energy it once exuded.

“I don’t believe it,” he mulled in a whisper while rolling it between his fingers. “Lord Gotoh, is this really the Starsphere? It looks more like a black pearl, or even the Darksphere if I didn’t know better!”

“If it were the latter you would not be touching it.” Gotoh presented his palm to take it back. “Let me explain… when I crafted Starlight, I placed immense pressure on the spheres because I was in a hurry. The Lightsphere endured, but the Starsphere’s outer layer shattered into its constituent shards, scattered across the land by the incredible force.”

“…This happened during our battle in Macedon?”

“It was broad daylight. The pieces are nigh invisible against the sky’s backdrop… however, I can confirm they scattered around the Grust-Macedon area. I’ve narrowed it down that much at least.”

“And what has prevented you from retrieving them?”

Gotoh uttered a wistful sigh. “For one, politics. If news spread about the shards, one kingdom might be tempted to ransom them or monopolize the sphere’s power for itself. I’ve tried to recover them myself, but sadly, in shattering the sphere I’ve also shattered its trust. These spheres have wills of their own, and clearly the shards don’t want me to find them.” He then revealed a light blue shard aglow with the Aries sign, more intensely than as part of the whole sphere. “This is the only one I’ve recovered so far. The Aries sign is associated with good fortune… no doubt a cruel joke on the sphere’s part.”

Wendell accepted the shard and examined it more closely. “My my… this is quite a predicament you have on your hands, Lord Gotoh.”

“We face dire consequences if I cannot repair it before the Darksphere and its avatar resurface… which is why I must ask for your aid, Archbishop.”

He looked up. “Me?”

“You’re the only one I can trust with this knowledge. You must gather the remaining shards so that I can reassemble the sphere before it is too late… I cannot do it alone. The sphere will not allow it… never mind I must also track down the Lifesphere.”

Twiddling the shard and wearing a worried expression, he replied, “I understand the gravity of this situation, milord… however, I cannot leave Princess Yuliya and Prince Jubelo here now…”

Gotoh’s somber expression sank further. “Yes, I imagine the circumstances trouble them as well…”

“…Is there something you have to share?”

“Although I have no interest being the Empire’s mouthpiece…” The sage withdrew a scroll from his robes and reluctantly presented it to Wendell. “…Emperor Hardin wouldn’t let me leave without his ultimatum. You have one month to return Grust’s heirs to their kingdom.”

Lord Wendell was aghast. He frantically snatched and unfurled the scroll. He wouldn’t believe it until he knew it was true… sadly, the message and signature were clear as day. Dread filled him at the thought of leaving the twins to the Occupation Amry’s mercy. How would he tell them? How… he felt faint…

“I am sorry, Lord Wend… Lord Wendell!?”

Upon hearing Aries clink against the floor, Gotoh noticed the color drain from his face – he barely had time to catch the archbishop before he keeled over. Wendell’s breaths were labored and he trembled as the sage brought him to his knees. “Easy Lord Wendell, deep breaths … shall I summon a cleric?”

“No… hah, h-I’ll be alright,” he huffed, gradually recovering from the hot flashes and wooziness. His hands still tremored and remained clammy, but his senses were returning. “Thank you Lord Gotoh, I… that was the news I was least prepared for.”

“I’m sorry Lord Wendell, I tried to reason with him. The best I could do was convince him you needed time to appoint and prepare a proper substitute. Hardin was changed drastically over the past few months… he is no longer the kind yet naïve king we once knew. Linde and I have our suspicions, and we shudder to think they might be true,” Gotoh lamented, his shoulders slumping. “All I can do is give you ample warning so that you can make arrangements.”

“Ah, I see… if I can ask you one favor, could you please make the announcement? Regarding the recent crisis… I believe Khadein will be more satisfied by your answer.”

“That I can do, Archbishop Wendell… now, let us lock this dreary tomb and return to your office.”

Jubelo and Yuliya couldn’t believe their ears. Master Wendell saw the same red flags… how could he return them to Grust when they might be in mortal danger? And for what? Why couldn’t he give them a straight answer on his new mission!? It felt like betrayal of the highest order… Jubelo didn’t speak to him again until next morning, and his sister took two more days to come around. Only when they saw his own grief with clearer heads did they forgive him… to an extent.

Their final month in Khadein felt numb. Wendell tried all he could to make it enjoyable, but there was only so much they could do with the Archaneans around, never mind the hanging cloud of dread. Said students voiced their approval of the twins’ upcoming repatriation, and they bitterly shut them out. They didn’t even bother opening the pretender’s latest letter, Yuliya ordering her brother to burn it on the spot – he did a thorough job, with Arlen voicing his approval.

September came too soon, and they were loading into the archbishop’s wyvern for the final time while he addressed his two apprentices. Wendell skimmed through the list they wrote over the last week, an accord as to how they planned to share responsibilities as interim headmasters. “I see you two thought long and hard about this. Thank you for taking your responsibilities seriously.”

“Of course, Master Wendell! It’s only right when we’ll one day be teachers ourselves,” Merric replied.

“And we would not dare leave Khadein poorly attended in your absence.”

“I would certainly hope not… ah, Arlen. A moment please? I’m afraid I may have forgotten something.”

“Of course, Master Wendell… you’ll wait here, Merric. We won’t be long.”

The twins were confused at their return inside. “Huh? What’s the holdup?” Yuliya asked.

“Um, maybe he’s changing his mind?”

“I’m sorry, Prince. Master Wendell only wants to double-check something before you take off.” Merric looked back sadly as the princess groaned and slumped over the saddle side in response.

Wendell stopped in the hall a few paces past the entranceway, reached into his pocket and removed an object wrapped in dense cloth. “Arlen, I’m entrusting this to you in my absence,” he said in a hushed voice, handing it to his student.

“Is this…?” Arlen curiously peeled back the outermost corner of the cloth. He promptly resealed it after observing a bluish glow through the gap.

“Remember, it must be kept secret. Only Lord Gotoh may see, let alone ask about it.”

He smiled and promised, “Of course, Master Wendell.” Not even Merric could know… the dullard would blow their secrecy writing to Altea. That’s why their teacher had entrusted this only to him… Merric called himself Khadeinian, but his heart lay across the sea. It was a fool’s errand to think one so detached from their city could be entitled to its secrets. Master’s judgment was no longer clouded, he had finally come around… promise that he might soon correct another grave sin.

“Thank you, Arlen… and one more thing.”

“The forbidden tome’s handling will remain at Mr. Rabenschrier’s discretion.”

“Good. I’m proud of you for finally understanding your limits.” It was something he hoped to avoid, but Gotoh insisted that Imhullu and the Lightsphere not be kept in one place… at least Arlen seemed to have learned his lesson. “Stow that securely and follow me. It’s time to say goodbye.”

“It is…” Although Arlen hated to admit it, he was going to miss his pupil – a sentiment Helen and Sarah shared when they gave their farewells earlier. Maybe when the situation cooled… forget it. He had more important matters to attend, as did Grust’s prince and princess.

Master Wendell stepped back outside and announced, “All right, we’ve sorted out what we needed to… before we go, anything you boys want to say?”

“I hope things take a turn for the better once you return to Grust,” Merric bade in a hopeful tone. “I’ll be sure to let Princess Caeda know of this development. Best of luck to you!”

“Thank you, Merric…” Jubelo and his sister waved, although in their minds they shared the same bitter response: I doubt it.

“Yes, stay safe. But don’t let this be the end of your training; you still have much to learn,” Arlen added.

“What do you take us for? Goodbye to you too, Arlen,” Yuliya retorted. Her brother gently nodded.

“All right, we’ve idled long enough. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so…” Wendell turned around and put an arm around each student for a parting embrace. “I’m going to miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too, Master Wendell,” Merric replied, patting his teacher on one shoulder.

“Yes… we’ll take care of Khadein in absence, Master Wendell.” Arlen patted his other shoulder earnestly. Normally he’d be fidgeting for freedom by now, but Master Wendell would be gone longer than usual, and he regretted seeing him off so coldly after leaving to protest Gharnef’s rule. Instead, he desperately fought the urge to shove Merric out and make this embrace his alone.

“Thank you, boys,” he muttered as he slipped away, fighting back tears. No words were spoken while he trudged towards his wyvern, mounted it and cracked the reins, nor did any follow while Khadein shrank into the background. Even Merric was silent, perhaps finally understanding how bitter their parting was. A somber moment that kicked off a dreadful ride home.

There was little appetite for small talk and barely more for food when they landed at the river delta. Sleep was also challenging when they were fraught with uncertainty. Ironic then that the weather was ideal for flying… insulting even, with how thoroughly it contrasted their dour moods. Yuliya bemoaned that the gods sought to spite them, only to be swiftly silenced by her brother and Master Wendell. They had enough on their minds, no need to rattle the wobbly pot.

It was eerily quiet while they passed over Raman. This route normally saw sparse commerce – trade by sea was more convenient and there were no large settlements to the immediate north – but today was different. It cannot be this quiet, they thought; surely there must be some patrol or harvest pilgrimage. Be it stretched nerves betraying them or an omen of ills to come, they did not know.

“Wait! Archbishop, stop!”

Wendell nearly jumped from his wyvern in shock, the twins clinging fervently to his back. To his lower right he spotted a lone pegasus rider in Grustian attire calling frantically to him. He brought his wyvern to a halt and waited for her to hover beside them. “Is this a problem, milady?”

“It isn’t safe for the Prince and Princess at this time! Please, turn back!”

“I’m sorry, I cannot do watch them anymore.”

“No! Please, I beg you! You mustn’t-”

“Where’s General Lorenz?” Yuliya demanded.

“Princess?” The rider turned to her and answered, “General Lorenz is safe… for now. But General Lang exiled him from Olbern Keep and has made ever more unreasonable demands!”

“Take us to him.”

“But, Princess-”

“We didn’t come back to Grust by choice, nor did Master Wendell want to take us! But… thing, things changed,” she said in a deflating tone before curling up to cry against her brother.

“We can exchange stories on the way, but I cannot keep the children any longer. I’ll be embarking on a mission, and Emperor Hardin has ordered they be returned,” Wendell insisted. He paused for a breath when he saw the fear in her hazel eyes. “Please, miss. Take us to General Lorenz. At least let me leave these two with someone we can trust.”

“…All right. But first…” She gulped. “I-I must explain this to my comrades on the ground.”

The past few months already painted a grim picture, and their escort’s description only made it worse. General Lang imposed martial law on the kingdom, closing its borders to all non-Archanean traffic and ordering the Sable Order’s disbandment. With scant opposition, word of more despicable acts followed… theft was most common, for it was easy to take from hapless citizens. But it was rumors of men taken for forced labor and young girls for purposes their escort wouldn’t elaborate on that set their hairs standing. One hamlet had already been torched for dissent, a deed the Archaneans proudly touted as a warning to others. It left the twins even more anxious for their safety… at one point, Yuliya rattled so heavily she feared she might throw herself from her seat!

A frenzy of activity came when they landed in southern Grust, soldiers and servants alike gathering to shoo them away. Lord Wendell labored to explain the situation against the torrent of questions, which only subsided when General Lorenz broke through the crowd.

“Enough! Show some discipline, I’ll handle this!” he barked, forcing his way through the masses while simultaneously standing them down. Yuliya and Jubelo plainly saw the terror on his face when he gazed at them. “Archbishop Wendell, why did you bring them back? Surely Mostyn if no one else warned you!”

“I’ve heard, friend, and I’m sorry! But I can’t care for them any longer… hmm…” He had to pause as he began tearing up. “It’s, not what I wanted either…”

“Lord Wendell…” The general turned around and ordered, “Everyone, return to your posts. Archbishop Wendell is clearly distressed. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

“Yeah, give us some space! This is hard enough as it is!” Yuliya shouted before giving in to her own tears. She curled into Jubelo’s arms as the two embraced for mutual comfort.

Lorenz felt his eye water. “I see you’re just as serious… you, pages. Please unload the twins’ belongings from the Archbishop’s wyvern and bring them inside.”

For the next minute and a half there was only silence. Half the crowd departed on the general’s orders, and the pages he directed to retrieve their bags obeyed. But he had to repeat himself nonverbally with a few curious stragglers. With the crowd’s dispersal Lord Wendell and his lieges began to regain their composure, but he waited patiently for them to decide when they would move. He needed a moment to fully digest the situation, too.

Finally, when all three appeared ready, he motioned for them to follow him and calmly requested, “All right Lord Wendell, tell me. Why must you return Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya?”

“Well, there are two reasons. The first is an assignment from Lord Gotoh that I cannot disclose. It will require an extended absence from Khadein, and due to a number of students of Archanean nationality… and their undue interest in the twins… I do not feel comfortable leaving them unattended.”

Lorenz glanced down at the twins, hoping they might provide a more direct answer. All they could do was nod to confirm his story, although Yuliya’s scowl spoke volumes about this unwanted attention.

“In addition, he brought an edict from Emperor Hardin. It ordered their return-”

He stopped to stamp his foot. “That damned…! … I, apologize for the sudden show of anger.”

“It’s okay General. We know it’s been frustrating to deal with him,” Jubelo assured. “You can continue, Master Wendell.”

“As I was saying, it was an order that they be returned within one month. I received his message at the beginning of August… trust me, I postponed this for as long as I could.”

“I trust you well, Archbishop, and I’m grateful I could entrust them to you for so long. Your community have done us a great service,” Lorenz commended while ushering a guard aside. “Please, at least stay the night. You must be weary after your long trip.”

“Much appreciated, General Lorenz.” He took a moment to inspect the general’s new base of operations. The castle interior was more presentable than Olbern and the air was far less stuffy, but it lacked the sturdy architecture and appeared somewhat bare.

His sightseeing ended when he spotted a familiar swordsman enter from the west wing. “Oh? Are you…”

“General Lorenz?” He was a large, muscular man with slick blonde hair, multiple scars and dull blue armor over a brown sleeveless shirt. His gruff voice and build were intimidating… had he been less cordial the twins might believe they were in danger. “So the gossip is true… Archbishop Wendell, why did you bring them back?”

“We’ll explain later Ogma. For now, introductions are in order.” Lorenz stepped between the two parties and said, “Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya, this is Sir Ogma of Talys. You may not remember, but he was with us when we rescued you.”

“Really? It’s… nice to meet you Sir Ogma,” Jubelo peeped while averting his eyes, frightened by the swordsman’s direct, hardened gaze.

“Talys? Has King Mostyn sent any other reinforcements?” Yuliya asked.

“Afraid not. King Mostyn can’t afford to drag Talys into a war. Only the royal family and General Lorenz’s closest confidants know I’m here,” he explained. “And I’ll say it again General, I’m no Sir.”

“I am merely paying my respects, Ogma… anyway, he’s here to help me control the situation on Mostyn’s behalf. Unfortunately, it’s too late to ask for further reinforcements.”

“So all we have are you, some mercenary and whatever house guard is left to protect us?”

“If it’s any consolation to you, Princess, I was Caeda’s personal bodyguard,” he retorted.

“We have others in the countryside. General Lang may have ordered the Sable Order disbanded, but they continue to operate independently as a vigilante force. Occasionally I receive word from them. And I assure you, Grust’s people will not lie under Lang’s yoke quietly.”

“I hate to rain on your parade General, but that will’s sending them to an early grave. And now that the Prince and Princess are back, Lang will surely come for them,” Ogma cautioned.

“I know, Ogma. But if we do nothing then Lang will surely destroy us anyway. He’s shown no more mercy to those who give themselves up quietly… that is why we must fight with all we can. If there is even a shred of hope for Grust’s future we must fight to protect it, no matter the cost.”

He nodded. “Well said. You know I’m with you ‘til the end.”

Wendell smiled. “It gives me comfort knowing what capable hands I’ll leave them in.”

“For one pair to another, Archbishop.” Following that quip, Lorenz took a knee, lowered his head and swore, “Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya. Know that your kingdom will not fall easily. We shall do everything we can to ensure your survival… you are our hope, our future.”

Ogma mimicked his gesture. “King Mostyn shares the sentiment. By his will, I’ll do all I can.”

“Thank you…” Yuliya felt a warmth in her cheeks, but quickly rustled to dispel it and adopt a more serious expression. “We’ll be counting on you, General Lorenz! Ogma!”

“Yes, we could never handle this ourselves… sorry, Yuliya…” Jubelo twiddled his fingers while his sister shot him a dirty look. “Now, um… do you have anything else to share?”

“Yes, we have a lot to talk about… oof.” General Lorenz strained to stand himself back up. “Forgive me, the years compound the weight of this armor.”

Ogma – Battle-Hardened Blade

Little is known of Ogma’s past besides his life as a gladiator from Knorda’s infamous arena. It’s one most would sooner forget: men and boys, even those as young as ten, kept as slaves and forced to fight for spectators’ sick entertainment. Supposedly victories could buy your freedom, but the bar was often raised time and again. One day after years of torment, Ogma snapped, cutting down a keeper and leading a revolt to take it by force. He stayed behind to ensure his fellow prisoners’ escape, but fate smiled upon him: while being whipped for his rebellion, Talys’s young princess intervened. She and her father bought his freedom that day, and since then he’s served as her personal guard.

Life’s been far better since then, but Ogma’s past continues to haunt him. Such oppressive conditions can drive people mad, some identifying with the beasts brought into certain games… animals who exist only to kill or be killed. It’s tough adapting to ordinary life, fearing one day he might relapse into a heartless killer. A certain mercenary in red hasn’t helped… still, he kept his heart beneath that stony exterior. Why else would he stay behind to buy them time? Princess Caeda sees him as family, and while he’ll never openly accept it his actions show how much it means to him.

Regardless, his loyalty is not solely hers: when King Mostyn summoned him for an urgent assignment, he left her under Altea’s care. This brings him to his current situation, helping General Lorenz manage the situation however he can. Although he doesn’t fancy himself the young heirs’ ward, it is what it is… he’ll not disobey the man who saved him years ago.

Chapter Text

Hearts were heavy when Master Wendell left the following morning. Their new abode was at least comfortable – not a blasted heat trap like Olbern Keep, and there were no foreign agents under the guise of students to harass them. But the crisis their kingdom faced only left them more skittish, and having to say goodbye to their trusted guardian for the last year-and-a-half did no favors. Nor would it be long before new enemies showed… General Lang sounded very intent on meeting them, and Hardin likely informed him of the edict. Lorenz warned his charges to expect unwanted guests, but he didn’t have to tell them… they knew it was only a matter of time.

No one came the first day. It gave them a chance to get a handle on the situation – Lorenz briefed them thoroughly, backed by accounts from soldiers and residents of a nearby village. Their new boundaries felt even more restrictive than Khadein… at least Master Wendell or a trusted escort could bring them out every so often. Here, anywhere out of sight from the front gate was too far. Ogma wasn’t one for talking, but watching him spar with a few soldiers gave them confidence in his swordsmanship.

Boredom set in fast the second day. Yuliya tried to drag her brother through studying but it was evident she too had trouble staying attentive. Being cooped up fearing for their safety again, even worse this time, wasn’t good for productivity… still, she insisted on trying.

“Yes, it was the Year 516 when Chiasmir Bridge was completed. It replaced an older crossing that fell into disrepair. The new bridge quickly became an important land route for trade and travel.”

“And a route for manakete pilgrimage to the Fane, right?”

“Correct!” Yuliya closed her book and set it aside. “It’s about time you started memorizing this! But you need to pay more attention to the dates.”

“I’m sorry Yuliya. So many projects were completed during the first… ten, twenty, thirty years of Grust’s existence! It’s hard to remember them all.”

“Some are excusable, but Chiasmir Bridge is one of Grust’s most important landmarks!” she chided. “As our next King and Commander you cannot be ignorant of such details!”

“I-I know Sister, but, it’s hard to think straight right now… surely you can understand that. We’ve been taking more breaks than you usually allow.”

“Break? … Well, I’m just trying something new! A-as we, move into more focused content I think… I think we need to… uuuuuuuh…”

“You can stop.” Jubelo placed a hand on the pair tightly clasped in her lap. “Yuliya, I know you’re scared-”

“I am not scared! Not of some lowly count who thinks he owns our kingdom! And you shouldn’t be-” She jumped when someone knocked on the door. “I, identify yourself!!”

Lorenz slowly opened it and replied, “At ease, my young lieges. It’s only me.”

“Oh…” She took several fast, short breaths. Jubelo tried to comfort her but she gently pushed him away. Through her teeth she growled, “Brother, show some dignity.”

“I wish I could give you more time, but I’m afraid your presence is requested downstairs immediately. Steel yourselves, my lieges… General Lang is here.”

Both twins gulped.

“I’m sorry. I tried telling him it was a hoax, but he cited several witnesses among his troops. They saw your flyover with Archbishop Wendell two days prior.” He took a half-turn right and pulled back the cape to remind them of the sword hilted around his left hip. “However, I promise you this: Lang will not coerce you into anything unreasonable. We are prepared if our meeting comes to blows.”

“R-right. Very good, General.” Yuliya hopped off the side of her bed and grabbed her Rescue staff leaning against the wall. “Brother, bring your Fire tome. Just in case.”

“But, Yuliya, Master Wendell warned-”

“We must show we will not go quietly,” she emphasized. “Take it with you. Now.”

General Lorenz led his charges downstairs and towards the foyer once they secured their equipment. Along the way they passed a side room where Ogma waited with a dispatch of soldiers, all armed and dressed for battle. He exchanged a nod with the general and began wrapping a scarf around his head.

The twins hid warily behind Lorenz’s sturdy frame when they entered the foyer; it was empty for the time being. That would soon change as he called, “All right, General Lang. I’ve brought Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya… you may enter.”

“Splendid.”

Through the entrance came a stout, heavily armored man dressed in black and mauve, the emblem of Archanea emblazoned on his cape fastener. Bald at the scalp, his beard stretched from one sideburn to the other and a bushy mustache ran beneath his sharp, prominent nose, all greyed by age. His face was withered and wrinkled, with slight circles beneath two dark-green eyes trained on the twins peeking out from behind their guardian.

“That won’t do. Stand aside so that I can see them plainly.” He smiled as the opposing general quietly obeyed; a wicked grin that left them unsettled. “Yes, that’s better.”

“Wh, what do you want with us?” Jubelo asked, clutching his tome tightly while his knees buckled.

“How kind of you to ask, Prince Jubelo.”

“It’s pronounced ­You-Bellow,” his sister corrected.

“When did I give you permission to speak?” The twins flinched and took a step back, but Yuliya quickly moved protectively in front of her brother, forcing the most menacing scowl she could muster. “I see your princess hasn’t learned proper manners, General.”

“You’ll, have to excuse them, General Lang. They were not in my custody for the last year-and-a-half.” His apology sounded forced, and Jubelo saw him quietly feel around his hip.

“Surely you could have sent an etiquette tutor, or at least the proper materials! For shame, General! And you call yourself the Prince’s and Princess’s ward?”

Now Jubelo was starting to anger. Yuliya clenched her staff so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

Lang straightened his cape and collar before settling back into a semi-affable smile. “Ahem. But worry not children, I’ll ensure you’re properly educated. After all I’ve done to improve your people’s-”

“HORSE SHIT!”

Lang gasped incredulously and shared a glance with Lorenz, who was similarly aghast at the princess’s retort. Although he tried to retain composure when looking back at the twins, his twitching eye showed the cracks. “Princess, what did I say about speaking out of turn?”

“Why should I care? We heard about all the horrible things your soldiers-”

“You have been grossly misinformed!”

“No we haven’t! We’ve heard it from our own people, and… and your attitude says the same story!” Jubelo refuted, leaving the general’s face scrunching in fury.

“Yeah, you heard the Prince! You’re a damned liar, and you have no business-”

“Enough! That attitude of yours is precisely why it’s imperative that you come with me immediately!”

“Take one step forward and we’ll have Lorenz kill you on the spot!” Yuliya threatened. She and her brother nervously stepped back when General Lang began to approach. “Off with your head!”

“Y-yeah, you heard her! Make the bad man go away!”

“Silence! It’s time you learned some-” Lang stopped in his tracks when General Lorenz stepped between them, leering at him with simmering anger. He backpedaled a pace and said, “Ahem… General Lorenz, you are a reasonable man. Surely you can see these children are unfit for-”

“Yes, I am a reasonable man. I’ve considered everyone’s words well… and I believe Princess Yuliya makes the strongest point.”

Yuliya and Jubelo grinned with joy and relief when Lorenz drew his sword, pointed it straight at Lang and declared, “Lang, you’ll have our prince and princess over my dead body!”

“…That can be arranged. Troops, assemble!”

At their lord’s command, several Archanean soldiers filed into the room. Most carried spears, half bearing shields and heavy armor, with a single mage behind them. Lorenz crept back while the twins huddled behind him… they saw military processions in their youth, but those were Grustians who’d sworn loyalty to the crown. Never had they seen so many blades pointed at them.

General Lang took his place at the formation’s rear and ordered, “Men, kill General Lorenz and seize-” He was interrupted by a door swinging open. “What!?”

“Hragh!”

Ogma, his headscarf concealing everything from the neck up save for an eye slot, barged in and swung his broadsword at the nearest soldier. Grustian troops rushed in behind him and formed their own line, clashing with their Archanean adversaries to defend their commander and lieges.

Lang fearfully crept backwards towards the exit. “You, you heard me! Kill them all and seize those brats! I want them alive!” he ordered before turning tail and running.

Lorenz on the other hand stepped forward to join his men front and center. “Stay back, my young lieges! We won’t let them lay a hand on you!”

“Um… y-yes sir…” Jubelo and Yuliya cautiously snuck towards the exit along the wall. The prince stared wide-eyed at the carnage over the binding of his tome, needing a tug from his sister to pass through the archway. Even then, they couldn’t take their eyes off the fighting… every last shout left them cringing, and the crash of a Thunder spell sent them hiding behind the archway.

Yuliya glanced down at her staff, then at her brother’s tome. “Well, what are you standing around for? You have the black magic, use it!” He shook his head in a frenzy. “Why not!?”

“I-I-I, don’t know, Yuliya! I’ve never fought before, and, w-what if I hit our…?”

She groaned in frustration. “Then go get my Heal staff! Our soldiers are going to need it!”

“Um, y-yes, Sis!”

The princess frightfully peered back in after her brother bolted for the stairs. The battle grew more intense… two of her soldiers appeared on the brink of collapsing, and General Lorenz held the attention of three at once. She ducked around the entrance when another Thunder spell struck him directly… he was still standing when she resumed watching, but he looked haggard despite his valor. Hurry up with the Heal staff, Brother…

“Hah, hah, hah… Princess Yuliya, please don’t exhaust yourself.”

“Save it, Lorenz. Without you, Jubelo and I would be lost.”

Repeated raids rapidly took their toll… only a week had passed since their first altercation, and they just repelled the fourth. Half their men were lost, either to another siege or sniped by a longbow or Swarm spell on the fringes of their patrol route. Yuliya was fatigued by all the healing it demanded of her, and their staff reserves were running thin, but she wouldn’t back down. She had him strip down to his undershirt so they could inspect his wounds more thoroughly; though not trained in healing magic, Jubelo helped her with more menial tasks, such as cleansing salves and bandaging.

Lorenz pushed away the princess’s staff bulb once the stab wound beneath his shoulder closed, holding it adamantly when she tried to shove it back. “Princess, I appreciate your help but that will suffice. You must conserve your Heal charges… not to mention your strength. Time will take it from here.”

“We don’t have time! Those cretins will be back with more numbers in a few days!”

“Yeah, and… think of your age!”

“I wish you wouldn’t remind me, Prince Jubelo,” he replied with a deep sigh. “I would love to set my spear down and retire once this blows over… if this blows over, before-”

“Don’t say that! You’ll get through this… we, we all will!” Yuliya stubbornly insisted. Jubelo nodded frantically in agreement… Lorenz could see that beneath her bravado, they were equally terrified at the thought of losing him.

He smiled and let out a lighter sigh. “I admire your enthusiasm, my young lieges…”

“General Lorenz.”

Their attention turned toward Ogma, who led a chestnut-haired knight into the infirmary. Leiden’s eyes quickly fell on the twins and he said, “So they were telling the truth of your return.”

“Sir Leiden, how is it out there?” Lorenz inquired.

“It’s spiraling out of control. Archanea abandoned any pretenses of helping us a week ago, and it’s beget rebellions all across Grust. We contribute to the fight where we can, but most of our energy is spent relocating our citizens to sanctuary villages. Places where Lang’s troops are less likely to find them,” he elaborated. “Which brings me to why I’m here… Prince Jubelo, you and Princess Yuliya must get out of here while you can!”

“Not a chance!” the princess retorted.

“Princess, if Lang catches you he will kill you! Grust isn’t safe for you!”

“Well where are we supposed to go!? Khadein’s not an option with no archbishop and all those Archanean students swarming the place!”

Jubelo added, “Yeah, and who will take us? Archanea has authority over every other kingdom… if we seek refuge, Hardin will just order us sent back.”

Lorenz nodded solemnly. “It’s as our lieges say. Even Talys cannot afford us sanctuary, and Lang has Grust on lockdown. Sigh… I hate to say it, but Archanea has us boxed in.”

“They betrayed us,” Yuliya grumbled bitterly. “Emperor Hardin, Princess Nyna, Linde, and White Sage… they’re all against us.”

“…The White Sage? Linde?” Lorenz turned to the princess confused. “What are you saying?”

“She was ‘visiting’ Khadein the week before Lord Gotoh showed up with his ‘mission’ and edict. She ratted us out,” Yuliya answered, looking him straight in the eyes.

He glanced quizzically to Sir Leiden and then to an ambivalent prince before restoring eye contact with the princess. Though he had strong reason to believe her accusations, they didn’t line up with his experiences with Princess Nyna, Lord Gotoh or Linde. “Princess Yuliya, I understand why you’re angry but let’s not jump to conclusions.”

 “You can argue about who’s at fault later, but we have to get out of here. Sir Leiden reported a fresh column of troops headed for our location,” Ogma interjected.

“Precisely. Even if you can’t leave Grust you cannot stay here. You must evacuate and fortify yourselves in a better location,” he asserted.

“And where will you have us go?” Yuliya again questioned.

“To the old fort overlooking Aud Coast. We’ve already reestablished a presence there… the mountains and forests provide a more defensible location, and should you change your mind you’ll have a clear shot to water. Otherwise, the pass gives you a natural chokepoint should they establish a beachhead. Belf has amassed our own force of knights and volunteers; we’ll engage them with hit-and-run attacks to slow them down while you escape.”

“It sounds like you’ve thought this through… thank you Sir Leiden, but promise me you won’t throw your lives away too callously. Although our lieges are our main priority, we cannot resign ourselves to extinction, lest we leave them without a kingdom,” Lorenz cautioned.

Leiden saluted the party. “Of course, General Lorenz. Belf always warns new volunteers of the risks, although few are deterred under these circumstances.”

Migration to the coastal fortress was surprisingly easy. Their route was clear of Archanean forces, likely owing to the vigilantes’ diversion, and a stray pack of brigands backed off without a fuss once they realized who was in the caravan. A full month passed before the Occupation Army located their new hideout; two more and they were still better poised than when they abandoned their previous post. The coast even remained peaceful, with no ships attempting a landing. With a thorough patrol and an escort the prince and princess were permitted outings once a week, and under the brisk late autumn chill it was a welcome chance to unwind.

What kept it from being truly enjoyable were reports coming from the rest of their kingdom. It seemed there was no end to how low Archanea stooped… village burning became commonplace, culminating in one torched over a single dissenter, and after barricading its inhabitants within their houses! Feelings towards the empire grew viler in turn, with Princess Yuliya launching into tirades about what she’d do once they brought Lang to justice. General Lorenz frequently had to silence her as the details became too gruesome for her brother – and him at times – to listen to.

Fortunately, the princess was no longer their sole cleric: Aud’s village lay just beyond the pass, and there lived a girl three years older. Her name was Marisha, identified by pale, silky lavender hair often tied in cute and unusual ways. She looked rather young and could pass for the twins’ age, and by her manners one might mistake her as even younger. Eccentric was an apt descriptor, and she had a mischievous streak before the conflict broke out… whenever her neighbors noticed something was missing, they checked with her grandmother first. Apparently her pranks were once aided by a special staff, until her mentor confiscated it and shipped it to Khadein for bad behavior. Said mentor was Lady Lena, and while one might question her choice in apprentice it was clear that she had talent. Between their spats, Princess Yuliya found herself learning a few lessons.

“Set the bones back in place, give the skin a new coat, doo dedoo dedoo~” She sang her strange song whimsically, its verses interspersed between her healing spells. The lyrics were never quite the same and the effect was dubious, but there was no doubting her capabilities. Another soldier was restored to fighting form, the arrow that shattered his wrist removed and the damage undone.

“It’s… it’s back to normal! Wow, this is incredible!” He grinned like a child while flexing his wrist, bending and twisting it like it was never broken. Overjoyed, he saluted the clerics and bade “Many thanks, Marisha!” before departing in bright spirits.

“Don’t come again, sir!” she replied cheerfully before turning to the astounded princess. “You see, Princess Yuliya? Once you’re really into it you can do so much with a staff!”

“I’ll say. You make it look so easy! Casting Heal or Mend, all while singing your crazy song… I have to concentrate on the incantation to make it work! Does it really improve your magic?”

“Nope, not a bit! …Well, for you it wouldn’t.” Yuliya was equal parts annoyed and perplexed. “It ain’t so much what it does for the spell as what it means to me. White magic’s got a very personal part to it – you gotta put your heart behind it, get your head into it!”

“And your song helps you do that?”

“Exactly! Miss Lena always said to be myself while using my talents, because me’s what makes it shine the brightest! You can shine too if you channel what makes you you while casting your spells. It won’t be the same for everyone… why, it’s not always singing for me!” She set down her staff, clasped her hands and lost herself in a daydream. “Sometimes I think of the gallant Prince Charming who’ll one day sweep me off my feet! That flowing cape, the perfect smile…”

Ugh, here we go again… “You can stop now.”

Marisha opened an eye irritably and snorted. “Ugh, why do you have to ruin my moments?”

“Because they’re annoying and unnecessary when there’s nobody around to heal?”

“Oh lighten up, Princess! Surely you got big dreams in that little blonde head of yours? Indulge them! If you stopped being a stick in the mud your talents might soar to new heights!”

“Easy for you to say. My dreams are still stumbling over hurdles.”

“Now now, Princess. We mustn’t let these straits chart us down a bleak course,” Lorenz said while strolling in. “Marisha’s methods may be unusual, but you cannot deny the results.”

“No, I cannot… and with her guidance I do find clerical work getting easier, if slowly.”

“Wonderful. It brings me joy to see you gain by staying the path!” Yuliya grinned brightly back to him. He then glanced to Marisha and added, “Sister Marisha, I cannot thank you enough for your support. You’ve made it far easier to hold our position, and Princess Yuliya appreciates having a senior healer around.”

“My pleasure, General Lorenz! We all have to do our part to keep these scoundrels outta our hair!” she chirped. “Now are there any more soldiers who need healing, or can I go home to Granny?”

“If you could stay a little longer, please. Ogma and the Prince are still out practicing.”

“Um, present.”

Jubelo slipped into the infirmary chamber gripping his tome remorsefully, Ogma walking in after him. His face had a hint of soot and his armor had small burn marks but he appeared unfazed.

“Ah, good timing. How did it go?”

“Prince Jubelo’s aim is getting there. He still whiffs a few shots but he’s learning to hit a stationary target. Next time we’ll see if he can hit someone more mobile. However…” He pulled out a flask and held it to Marisha upside-down. “We’re going to need more Pure Water to continue. I wouldn’t object but the Prince is uncomfortable without it.”

“Mhm. I’ll ask Granny if we have another bottle or some. And don’t look so sad Prince! Keep this up and you’ll be blasting Archanean troops in no time!”

The prince turned his head away timidly. Before tending to Ogma’s burns, she glanced to Yuliya and whispered, “It’d be nice if your brother was a little more dashing though.”

Don’t remind me… Why did he have to inherit Ludwik’s spine? She’d never say it publicly, but it was embarrassing to have to be both of their voices. Grust’s King and Commander was supposed to be bold, proud, fearless… how she yearned for the roles to reverse. To see Jubelo talk back to their captors on her behalf just once, or to give General Lang a piece of their mind… verbally or physically.

“Doo dedoo dedoo… there, all finished! There was barely anything to heal!”

So, so true… she saw worse when he misfired back in Khadein. Sure, Pure Water wards off magic, but it has its limits. And she doubted Ogma was that resistant on his own… he was a far cry from blasting Archanean troops even if he wasn’t afraid to lift a finger towards them.

“That’ll be all for today, Marisha. Now let’s assemble your escort.”

Jubelo remained silent while they followed Lorenz to the gates to see their cleric friend off. His sister would shoot him an impatient look from time to time, waiting for him to say something. But all he could do was hold his Fire tome tightly against his chest, muted by guilt. He knew she was disappointed at his impotence… deep down, he suspected they all might be. Soldiers, servants, even General Lorenz-

“Brother.”

He snapped out of his tumultuous thoughts and met his sister’s ever-serious gaze. “…Yes, Yuliya?”

“Is that really the best you can do?” she chided. “Struggling to land a hit on someone standing still? Fire is basic magic… quick to conjure, easy to direct! And you can barely do that!?”

“I’m sorry Yuliya, it’s… it’s hard! I learned to cast, but, I’ve never thrown it at… I, I don’t want to hurt anyone with it! Not… sniff… n-not after… …”

“You don’t have that luxury! You can’t afford to be weak! Quit your whimpering and… show, some…” Her rant lost steam when she saw him crying. “H, hey! Come on now! Don’t, don’t be like that! … I’m, only saying this because you… y-you…”

“Leave him alone, Princess.”

“Huh!? H-hey!” She protested as Ogma’s hand pried her from her brother and batted it away with her staff. “Unhand me! You know who I am!”

“A girl barely into her teens who’s never raised a weapon to someone,” he retorted bluntly, nudging the bulb away and pointing to the sobbing prince. “You think it’s just him? Talk with fresh squires and they’ll tell you how ‘easy’ it is. You’re lucky he has the chance to face it without his life on the line.”

“Well, who knows when that’ll be? That’s why he has to get it right! He has to try harder!” she insisted, stomping her foot.

“And how is throwing a fit supposed to help? He is trying hard. For all his hesitation he never throws down his tome and gives up.” He then glanced towards the prince, who lowered his hands to peek back at him. “You’re improving, Prince. You have a long way to go but you’re making progress. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Sniff… R-really?” Ogma nodded. “Thank you, sir…” Jubelo took a series of deep breaths to dispel the sense of shame and turned straight towards his sister. “It’s as he says, Yuliya… I want to learn how to do this, I really do. But… it’s hard. I’m using the same talent our captors used to torment us.”

“But, you were doing so much better back at Khadein! Why the relapse? Why-”

“Because he’s never tried casting it against someone. We’ve been over this.”

“They’re right, Princess Yuliya. Basic training is only between you and the weapon. Applying those lessons requires you to account for much more,” Lorenz explained, returning through the gates to join them. “Terrain demands greater consideration, so does your own well-being. And it can be difficult to come to blows when one of those elements is another human being.”

“Really? You too, Lorenz?”

“Absolutely! I’ve seen what Ogma’s discussed time and again. Every year brings squires who grapple with the reality of taking another life. Sometimes even drawing blood is enough to make one weak.”

“But they can’t stay that way forever. They must overcome it to be effective knights, right?”

“Yes. Coming to terms with death… yours, your friends’, and even your foes’… is a rite we must all face on the warpath. How long it takes depends on the person… some overcome it in a fortnight, others take many moons to truly make peace, and our methods may differ too,” he lectured. “Understand, Princess Yuliya, that you and Prince Jubelo endured-”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeep!”

“Huh!?” Lorenz abruptly looked outside when he heard that scream. Marisha was bolting back in as fast as her legs could carry her. “Marisha?”

“Bandits! Bandits! Baaaaandiiiiits!!” she shrieked as she flew past the guards and through the gates.

“Bandits!? …Ogma!”

He drew his sword. “On it.”

Lorenz followed him out at a calmer pace, borrowing a guard’s spear and taking time to assess the scene. Down the road he saw a crowd wrought with violent movements; brutish men descending on soldiers while others… stood around? Even Ogma slowed to a halt as if genuinely surprised. “What in the…”

“What’re you standin’ there for!? Don’t let a single Arcky escape!”

Arcky… Archaneans? He raised an eyebrow as the idle soldiers – presumably his own – joined the fray with Ogma. Their actions were careful and deliberated but they began to coordinate with the bandits. He glanced back at Marisha cowering around the entrance with the twins. “Wait here. I’ll get to the bottom of this… it may not be what it appears.”

While approaching at a trot Lorenz continued observing the scene. The fighting ceased after the last enemy soldier was slain; but Ogma and their men directed their weapons towards the bandits, who stood their ground while pleading. Some even set down their axes and raised their arms!

“We weren’t goin’ after that girl, I swear! You gotta believe me!” What appeared to be the leader was staring down Ogma’s blade, hands raised defensively, until he spotted the general approaching. “You’re the one in charge here, right? General Lorenz?”

“That would be me,” he confirmed, stopping short of them and quickly catching his breath. “Now explain yourselves. Why are you here, and what are you up to?”

“Fightin’ tooth and nail to save Grust, what’s it look like?” The bandit leader gestured towards the pile of fallen soldiers outfitted in standard Archanean armor. “We caught these troops stakin’ you out and setting up an ambush, so we set our own to flush ‘em out for you.”

“For us?” After a brief pause, Lorenz ordered, “Men, lower your weapons. They don’t seem to be of any harm… for the time being.”

A few soldiers hesitated but all obeyed nonetheless. Still, they kept their weapons at attention, ready to resume the fight at a moment’s notice. With his men in check he bade, “Go on.”

“It’s a madhouse out of there with Lang calling the shots! Not all of us come from a life of thievin’… well, I did, but I was born dirt-poor. Summa my guys, though?” The leader took a half-turn and pointed to individual underlings as he described their stories. “Jacque here lost his pa when the soldiers worked him ta death. Cilan’s village was razed after they couldn’t pay the tax, he barely made it out alive! They took Louie’s sister from him, and I don’t wanna describe what they did to Serge’s wife n’ kid!”

Lorenz carefully looked over the pack. Most of their expressions brimmed with anger or sorrow, and the one called Serge was crying against his comrade’s shoulder. He again faced their leader and said, “We’ve received similar reports from vigilantes… I believe your stories.”

“That’s why we’re here. Some of us don’t come from squeaky clean backgrounds, and I never bought that knightly pride junk. But this land’s our home too, and if that ogre from the badlands can turn over a new leaf, then so can I!” He took a knee, lowered his head and declared, “General, we’ll do all we can to keep Grust n’ those kids alive! Gimme the order and it’ll be done!”

“We’ll take all the help we can get. Thank you… your name?”

“Philip, sir. Or Phil. Don’t matter to me.”

“Philip, I take it you know your way around the area? You can assist my guard in keeping peace along Aud Coast,” Lorenz instructed. “I warn you though, there’ll be dire consequences for those who betray our trust, and I cannot allow you within the castle without my charges’ permission.”

“Loud and clear, Boss!”

Ogma demanded, “You can start by doing another sweep. Make sure you didn’t miss any. And one more thing… if anyone asks about a blonde swordsman with scars, you didn’t see him.”

“Yes. You got it, sir!” Philip stood back up, turned to his pack and commanded, “You heard the General, make sure this coast is clear!”

While the bandits dispersed, Lorenz and Ogma rounded up their men and began marching them back to the castle. The general remarked, “How fortunate they turned out to be friendly.”

“King Mostyn always said the enemy of our enemy is a friend. And Lang’s good at making enemies.”

“That he is.” He glanced ahead to the gates, where the prince and princess waited skittishly with Marisha. “It’s alright, they have bones to pick with the Occupation Army. They’re on our side.”

“Oh, okay then,” Marisha replied, still rattling over the sudden turn in events. “Then, I should be able to get back to Granny, right?”

“Would you be more comfortable if Ogma led your escort?” The cleric nodded rapidly. “Ogma?”

“Will do. Give me a minute to put this on.”

Marisha hastily shuffled to the center of her escort while Ogma wrapped his headscarf. Lorenz retired into the castle with his two lieges, where Yuliya asked, “So this is what it’s come to? Relying on the goodwill of brigands to stay alive?”

“Now Princess, we can’t afford to be picky with allies in these trying times,” he cautioned. “And don’t forget our kingdom’s roots. Grust was largely built on the backs of brigands, and though General Ordwin brought a trusted guard they alone couldn’t carry out all that he achieved. Many of said brigands went on to become upstanding citizens, knights and generals themselves, and I witnessed the same in Talys once rival clansmen began following Mostyn’s lead!”

“I just wish they were someone more disciplined… better trained. Stronger.”

“Ah…”

She lamented, “None of this would if General Camus was here… even our enemies recognized him as the most able-bodied warrior on the continent. If he led the rebellion it wouldn’t be much of a rebellion… probably more a massacre.”

Lorenz noticed the discomfort on Jubelo’s face. “Princess Yuliya…”

“Why, I bet he would have charged straight into Olbern Keep, ploughed through everyone in his path, cut that dastard’s head clean off and paraded it around-”

“Princess, you’ve said enough,” Lorenz stated while gesturing to the prince.

“Oh…” She fell silent upon seeing his disturbed expression. “…I’m sorry Jubelo, I’m done.”

Count Aloysius Thorburn Lang – Brutal Occupier

More often known as General Lang, or simply Lang, this Archanean nobleman has been a controversial figure for years. House Lang always sought to raise their standing, often through underhanded tactics; many view them as a less successful House Menedy, a comparison its lord loathes. This came to a head when Lang defected to Dolhr during the War of Shadows, culling several noble peers during the chaos. There was much rejoicing when he was tried and sentenced to life, but sadly this didn’t last… against countless detractors, including Empress Nyna, Emperor Hardin pardoned him.

Now assigned to lead the Grustian Occupation, General Lang’s been given free rein and hasn’t wasted a second realizing his ambitions. His brazenness has brought him into direct conflict with the people of Grust, but with Archanea’s backing he’s been winning at every turn. News of his brutality has also been largely suppressed… villages with even a single dissident are razed to the ground. Native Grustians have been reduced to slaves, and pretty young women are frequently taken away by the soldiers… Lorenz shudders to think what might happen if Yuliya and Jubelo fall into his clutches.

Sister Marisha – Troublemaking Cleric

Residing in a village on Aud Coast with her grandmother, Marisha’s always been an odd one. Her mind for mischief causes things to go missing more than her Aud neighbors would like… sometimes they resurface in the most unlikely places. She frequently appears lost in her own fantasies, going on about fairy tale nonsense a girl her age is expected to outgrow. Why Sister Lena chose her of all people as an apprentice is anyone’s guess. Still, none doubt her effectiveness as a cleric – she’s a born natural behind a staff, and it’s believed Lena even taught her Hammerne’s secrets!

Besides, despite her rampant daydreams, she’s well aware of the dangers that plague Grust. She’ll put her mentor’s teachings to good use for the sake of her kingdom, and her remarkable skills might help the fledgling princess’s own budding talents… if said princess can tolerate her antics.

Chapter Text

“General Lorenz! A ship is landing on the coast!”

Lorenz abruptly raised his head from Belf’s latest report. Two more months and not a single ship had attempted a landing. Never mind it was mid-February, the middle of the worst sailing season… or that most of their troops were campaigning to flush Archanean incursions out of neighboring territories. Why now? Lang hadn’t exhibited any particularly brilliant tactics before, yet here they were, caught from the rear with their guard down. Was it a sudden stroke of genius, or has fate itself turned against them?

Whatever the case, they could not afford to dawdle. “What is their banner? Is it Archanea?”

“No sir, but it’s not our flag. Red and blue crest, white and green background…”

Lorenz had a sinking feeling when he pieced the description together. “That’s Altea’s heraldry!”

“Your orders, sir?”

“Tell Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya to pack. Fetch Ogma, and tell Philip and his men to be ready. We fight to our last breath or go down with our kingdom!”

“Sir!” The lookout saluted before running off.

As if this couldn’t get any worse… short of Talys, Altea was the last kingdom he expected. It wasn’t the crown’s way to intrude on other nations unabated… or had Princess Caeda caved and brought them to Grust’s rescue? And if Prince Marth remained in the dark, what would he think of this? Subduing their kingdom on its own soil, slaying dear friends of his betrothed in the interests of Archanea’s robber barons… damn Emperor Hardin, and damn General Lang for their cruel games.

He took a short detour to grab his worn but serviceable silver lance and shield before proceeding to the main foyer. With the injuries he accumulated over the months, it was an arduous journey… and a relief to see Ogma already waiting for him, a light pack across his shoulder and his headscarf nearly tied. “Good, you’re here. I take it you’re aware of our situation?”

“Yeah. And you’re aware I can’t stay here,” he replied while tucking the last flap.

“Affirmative… Ogma, I hope you’ll forgive me for involving you in this mess.”

“You don’t need to apologize General, I’m just following King Mostyn’s orders. Anything you need, I’ll do it… short of fighting Prince Marth.”

“I see… then please, stay until the Prince and Princess arrive. I have one final favor to ask.”

Yuliya’s gaze waved back and forth between the row of books laid on her bed, trying to weigh the most important. She would reach for one only to pause and pull back, wrought with indecision on what to take. “We can’t go without this one… or these volumes… or that,” she muttered to herself. Her brother was more concerned with the outdoors… she snuck a peek through the window but saw no enemy troops in the pass. Echoes of the skirmish could be head in the distance, however.

She shook her head and returned to book skimming. “But this book relies on material from…”

“Yuliya, forget about the books. We need-”

She spun towards her brother and barked, “What are you saying, Brother!? This is your education!”

“I-I know, but… the lookout said to pack lightly. It sounds like we don’t have much time… and, am I really going to find reading time on the run?” Jubelo asked. “I, think they’re just going to slow us down… we’ll resume our studies once we settle in again! I promise!”

“Yeah, sure. But that implies we’ll have something to read at our new headquarters. That’s why it’s important to… hey, get back here!”

Taking what little he packed along with his Fire tome, he ran as fast as he could without looking back. Sorry Yuliya, but I don’t think we can stay here much longer… hopefully she got the message.

“Where do you think you’re going… mister…” She pedaled to a halt shortly after following him out of the room. Her bag and staffs still sat next to her bedframe… she repeatedly flipped between staring down the hall and back into their bedroom. “Y-you know we’re not fully packed yet! I… I…” Finally, she caved and rushed back for the bare necessities. “Just let me grab this and don’t leave without me!”

Jubelo ran past several castle staff, all frantically trying to carry out last-minute duties. Ogma and General Lorenz turned to him as soon as he entered the foyer. “Here! I’m here, sir!”

“Where is Princess Yuliya?”

“She should be coming… I think.”

“Wait, wait! Don’t go yet!”

“Phew… she’s here.”

Yuliya stumbled through the archway gasping for breath, her carry bag and staff heaped in her arms. Jubelo helped her while she reorganized everything into a more convenient distribution. “Hah, I’m here, General Lorenz… by your leave, we’ll depart.”

“Good. You must escape immediately.”

“Yes, we…” She paused upon processing his choice of words. “W-what, did you…?”

He looked to Ogma and ordered, “Ogma, escort the Prince and Princess to Macedon. Take them to Lord Wendell’s village on Holm Coast. They’ll be safest with him.”

“Understood.”

“No way! I’m not leaving you to die!”

“Princess please, don’t argue with me. With this armor and the wounds I’ve accrued I cannot travel lightly. It saddens me to see you go, but this is where we must part ways.”

“Never! Not after you took all those wounds protecting us in the first place!” She planted her staff’s foot firmly against the floor and insisted, “We are not leaving you behind, Lorenz! Ever!”

“Yeah! I don’t want to leave you either! Not after, after everything you’ve done for us!”

“We don’t have time for stubbornness! You kids are coming with- hey!” He caught the princess’s staff when she tried to bat his hand away a second time. “Knock it off! This is a matter of life and death! If I have to carry you-”

“Stand down Ogma. It’s no use,” Lorenz commanded, only releasing his grip on the mercenary’s wrist after he released her staff. Princess, why must you be like this… “Yuliya will not change her mind easily. It’ll be more troublesome than if I tried to evacuate. Sigh… I’m afraid they will remain here.”

“Well, I can’t be seen by Prince Marth. I’ll have to help some other way… maybe I can kill General Lang. It’s a long shot, but taking him out might put a stop to this madness.”

“If you encounter our troops on your way, take them with you. At this point they’ll serve us better under you. Tell them it’s a direct order from General Lorenz himself!”

“Done. We’ll bury Lang with the sword strapped to my back, I swear it,” he declared, pointing a thumb to his broadsword. “Until then, hang in there as long as you can.”

“I’ll see you off. Holding the gate is my responsibility.” Lorenz glanced to the twins and requested, “I ask that you retreat upstairs. You’ll be safer there.”

“Okay… but, you’ll be alright, right General?”

“Though weary, I have not faltered yet, and I will do all I can to protect you.”

“Oi, Big Boss Man! They’re tryin’ to breach the pass!” called someone outside.

“Throw everything you can at them! I’ll be at the gate shortly!” He quickly turned back to the twins and said, “Prince Marth has a good heart. Maybe I can reason with him… if he knows the true extent of our situation, he won’t hand you over to Lang.”

“Do you really think he’ll change his mind after cutting down our guard?” a dubious Yuliya questioned.

“It’s what Princess Caeda loves him for the most,” Ogma affirmed. “Now listen to the General. I’ll be back when that bastard breathes no more.”

Reluctantly the twins nodded, picked up their belongings and walked back the way they came. They eyed Lorenz and Ogma suspiciously, as if something was off, but neither said a word.

Once they were alone, they started towards the gate. “Do you really think you’ll find Lang in time?”

“About as much as you think you can hold this gate.”

“So you understand… I’m finished. If Archanea’s holding a spear to his back Prince Marth will have no choice in the matter,” he lamented, taking a quick glance at his sword. “All I can do is clear his name and give him our side of the story so that he makes the right choice.”

“Without ratting me out.”

“I would never! Not after all you’ve done for me… Ogma, it’s a shame I’ll never to be able repay you and Mostyn for your support.”

“Mostyn said the same of you before I left.”

“I’m sure he did.” Lorenz briefly closed his eye with a smile and reminisced as they stopped at the gates. “This is my last stop. Ogma…”

“I’ll organize a strike force immediately, either to cut Lang down or to bust them out.”

“Thank you. That’s what I meant to ask.” With Lang’s penchant for cruelty, it was unlikely he’d kill them on the spot… chances are he’d make a spectacle of it, one final blow to shatter Grust’s resolve. Lorenz loathed the thought, but it gave them some leeway if Marth couldn’t safeguard the children. “I have no further instructions. It’s been an honor, Ogma.”

“Same to you… goodbye, General Lorenz.”

He was quick to flee around the castle’s west flank, making a run for the woods before Altea’s forces arrived. General Lorenz stood at attention, glimpsing the forest to the south before focusing on the pass. While he couldn’t see them, he heard the carnage in the air – the last few volunteers charged through the pass but none would return. Shadows against the mountain revealed they were close; it wouldn’t be long before they broke through. Periodically he checked the sky while waiting… not a pegasus in sight. Good, Caeda did not have to suffer through this… it must weigh heavily on her heart as is.

Finally, the prince’s silhouette emerged from the pass. The end drew near.

Waiting was tense for the prince and princess… Yuliya paced restlessly around the room, while Jubelo sat on his bedside with his fingers tightly interwoven. Both regularly checked the front window, and it never improved. Based on what they could observe they were being routed… the bandits fought fiercely but they stood no chance against Altea’s knights. Why did their main guard have to be away now?

They became glued to the window when a single blue-haired swordsman with similarly colored armor, a cape and a… tiara? …broke rank and approached the gates. He came alone and unopposed, his knights standing by at the pass’s mouth.

“That must be this Prince Marth they’ve been talking about,” Yuliya mulled in a resentful tone. “If he’s such an upstanding guy, what’s he doing-”

“Yuliya, shhhh! Listen… I hear them talking.”

Heeding her brother’s words, she pressed up against the window alongside him. They couldn’t see the prince from this angle, as he had come too close; but by listening closely they could discern an exchange between him and General Lorenz.

“Wait, General Lorenz! I do not wish to fight you… I heard it all from the villagers. About the atrocities Archanea has committed. I promise you, I’ll convene with Emperor Hardin so we can sort this out.”

Fat chance, Yuliya thought.

“I am grateful for your offer, Prince Marth, but it is too late for that.”

“No, it isn’t! So please, lower your weapon and give me some time! I’ll ensure you no further harm, and we’ll sort out this misunderstanding-”

“No, Prince Marth, it is you who misunderstands. Do you believe a man of Hardin’s caliber would free one as despicable as Lang and install him as Grust’s overseer with no restraints?”

There was a brief pause, during which the twins shared a suspenseful glance.

“Hardin may have misjudged prior officials’ qualifications but this was no accident. He fully intends to subjugate our kingdom and reabsorb it as a territory of the Empire.”

“What!? No, Hardin would never! You have it all wrong!”

“Prince, open your eyes! Ever since he started calling himself Emperor, Hardin has changed drastically, and not for the better. Why, I do not know… all I know is, my fate is sealed.”

The twins’ eyes widened when they heard a sword sliding from its sheath.

“General!?”

“Come on! We have to help him!”

“I have one final request: please, protect the prince and princess I guard. Find a way to help them… they are Grust’s future. If they make it through this, then I have no regrets.”

Neither paid heed to the conversation, as they were busy scrambling for their wares – Yuliya for her staffs and Jubelo for his tome. But Prince Marth raising his voice quickly brought their attention back.

“What are you doing!? General Lorenz, put down that sword! Please-!”

Horror washed over their faces when they heard a pained, guttural shout, followed by his final words:

“M-my life… for theirs…!”

“General Lorenz!!”

The twins flew through the halls and downstairs as fast as their feet could carry them. Outside, Prince Marth stood panicked over Lorenz as he crumpled to the ground, a sword plunged through the center of his chest. He made a grab for it but the dying general shoved him away with his last strength.

“General Lorenz! No!” He clutched his temples as a blue-haired swordswoman with a ponytail and an elderly paladin clad in purple approached him. “This, this can’t be happen-”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!”

Startled by a pair of high-pitched screams, his heart sank further when he spotted two blonde, mortified youths at the gate. Oh no… “Wh-whoa!” He leapt back to dodge a small arc of flames.

“Get away from him! GET AWAY!” Yuliya shouted while she and Jubelo scampered towards Lorenz’s corpse. They dropped to their knees, numb to the thud of pain while the princess tearfully tried to resuscitate the general. “Light of the gods, enriched by our craft… nnn, come on! Come onnn!”

It was difficult to watch their futile attempt to save him, and the anguish the came with it. Marth was so shaken that he didn’t notice two of his knights coming up behind him… he jumped when he bumped into a blue-haired swordsman with a ponytail. “Oh!”

“Prince Marth, what’s…” She gasped when she peeked past him and spotted the body. “Is that General Lorenz!? I, I thought you were planning to…”

“I tried, Kris. I tried… but, in the end, he took his own-”

“COME ON you stupid Mend staff! WORK!” she shouted, furiously waving it over the general. “I said it three times now! Why… why, why won’t you…”

“I, I’m sorry Sister, I… sniff… I think it’s too late…” Jubelo buried his face in his sleeves. “He, he’s gone!”

“N-no…” The princess shunted her staff aside and pounded the ground with her fist. “No, no, NO, no, no no no no no… sniff… n-no…”

Marth sheathed his rapier, took a cautious step forward and said, “Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuli-”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!!” the latter shrieked, glaring at him through watery eyes.

“Princess, wait! I didn’t-”

“You killed him! Murdered him! Stay away you monsters!!” She bounced to her feet, held her Rescue staff defensively and braced herself in front of her brother. “Or, or are you here to kill us too!?”

Kris stepped around to his side and pleaded, “Wait, you have it all wrong! Just let us explain-”

“Kris!”

“Huh? …Oh, right!” Glancing aside she caught the prince’s sheathing gesture and immediately put away her own sword. “Prince, Princess, we mean you no harm! I swear!”

Jubelo lowered his hands and chanced a peek around his sister. Not everything was as it seemed… despite her bravado Yuliya was clearly just as scared, her elbows and knees buckling. Likewise, Marth and his knights appeared more worried than threatening. Nor did the knights gathering from the pass seem hostile either, taking their time and watching quietly.

“Dame Kris, Prince Marth. Please, allow me.”

An older knight clad in purple calmly walked up front, took a knee and bowed his head. “Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya, I am Sir Jagen Brierly, veteran paladin and Knight Commander of Altea. On behalf of my liege, I am truly sorry for what you had to witness. It was never our intention to… hnngh…”

Yuliya and Jubelo were surprised as the other two… Prince Marth and his knight… knelt down to lend Sir Jagen their shoulders. An unexpected show of kindness… it hearkened back to Lorenz, Caeda, Ogma and others said about him. That he was a kind and caring prince, how he had a big heart… maybe he was telling the truth? Yuliya’s limbs relaxed, and Jubelo came out of hiding to stand beside her.

Fear however soon returned when they saw who else approached from the pass.

“Ngh, thank you sire… forgive my weakness, the years haven’t been kind to my joints,” Jagen continued, politely nudging his helpers away. “As we were saying, it was never our wish to hurt you or the General. For one reason or another, he took his own life.”

“Yes. I don’t understand it either, but he left me with one final request:”

“Sire?” a knight beckoned from behind.

“That I see you two safe-”

“Prince Marth!”

“Draug, I am…” He turned around to admonish the knight, but froze with his mouth hanging open when he noticed General Lang with him. Oh my god, no…

“Ah, Prince Marth. Thanks to your efforts, we finally caught these traitors. Well done!” Lang snapped his fingers and ordered, “Guards! Seize those brats!”

Yuliya and Jubelo tried to flee inside, but the princess’s foot caught on her Mend staff and she tripped. Before her brother could help her up Lang’s soldiers closed the gap, pulling them apart and confiscating their equipment. “No! Let, let us go!”

“General Lang, please! Wait! These children have done no wrong-”

“No wrong? These children represent everything that is wrong with Grust! That is why they are coming back to my castle to be treated accordingly!” Lang aggressively corrected. “Besides, dear Prince, I have another assignment for you. You are to put down the military revolt that plagues Macedon!”

“Macedon!? What in the… Minerva…” Marth stuttered wildly to gather his thoughts and sort his priorities. “General Lang, please. Allow me to take-”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again! These brats are coming with me! Know your place, princeling!”

“No! Let go of me!” Yuliya squirmed and thrashed against the soldier carrying her to no avail. “Jubelo! Do something! Anything!”

“Yuliya!” he cried. “Help us! Someone, please! Heeeeeeelp!”

Whiny brats… I suppose Prince Marth can have this as a reward. Whilst observing General Lorenz’s corpse, Lang noticed the princess’s Mend staff lying on the ground. He bent down to pick it up, but his eyes stayed on the body… limp as a peasant’s prospects in life, his one good eye dull and stuck wide open. A silver sword lay embedded in the center of his chest, its blade stained with fresh blood.

He shot Lorenz one last sneer before kicking him in the face. Worthless old codger!

“Sire! Give me the order, sire!” Kris begged to her prince, already drawing her blade. “Just give me one word, and I’ll get them back-”

“No! Don’t!” Jagen seized her wrist and warned, “If we defy Lang now, he’ll brand us traitors!”

“But Jagen, if we don’t-”

“I’m sorry sire, but for now we must set aside our feelings… consider Altea, Prince Marth.”

Pleading and crying for help, Yuliya and Jubelo were disheartened to receive none. There was chatter amongst the knights, but no action… mostly dissatisfaction, if the green-haired cavalier’s incredulous motions were anything to go by. Several sad or alarmed faces, and another paladin with long, blonde hair looked away with his head down shamefully. Marisha stood behind a heavyset armor knight in blue, watching with her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes equal parts fearful and apologetic.

The knight glanced to an archer about a head shorter beside him. “Well, you and Sir Arran were right about General Lang.”

“Yeah, well don’t tell Jagen I’m gloating over it. Because I’m not,” he replied before looking back to the helpless twins. “Those poor kids… I wish we could do something for them.”

Prince Marth Lowell Aritia – Altean Lodestar

Altea’s prince is a household name after the War of Shadows. Descendent of the Hero Anri and rightful wielder of his sacred blade Falchion, it was his efforts that turned the tide against Dolhr and vanquished the Shadow Dragon. One might picture a bold and heroic figure, a paragon of virtue… that last part is correct. However, Prince Marth is far from infallible; aged nineteen, he’s still finding his bearings as a ruler. Many overlook the allies he depended on along the way… his retainer Sir Jagen, his betrothed Princess Caeda, his knights, Prince Hardin… a fact he’s quick to correct at a moment’s notice.

Now he faces another dilemma as he’s dispatched by Archanea to quash Grust’s rebellion… although Archanea’s orders are absolute, the situation doesn’t sit well with him. What General Lang referred to as savages appeared to be desperate people clinging to survival, just as his own men did years ago. And then there’s those poor children… Marth wishes he could do something for them.

Sir Jagen Brierley – Enduring Champion

A relict from the days when Marth’s grandfather reigned, you’ll find none older or wiser among Altea’s knights. In his prime Sir Jagen was said to be strong as an ox – long past those days, he continues to set an example for the next generation. And none depend on his counsel more than the young Prince Marth, who sees him as another grandparent. Formalities must be maintained under the public eye, but in private Jagen returns the sentiment… he’s served this bloodline for three generations now.

It should be no surprise then that he accompanied the prince to Grust, where his experience already proves invaluable. Although he certainly doesn’t trust General Lang, rash action will only worsen the situation. For now, all he can do is keep Marth and their knights in line, as much as it pains them. Still, he’s got his eye on Lang, and age hasn’t completely dulled him… ask Altea’s knights and they’ll tell you how his fire can roar back up!

Chapter Text

The trip to Olbern was absolutely miserable: a slow haul through the countryside, locked in a cage like animals and fed meager scraps. Sleep was an ordeal when they were surrounded by cold hard metal, left exposed to the elements with only each other for warmth. Lang paraded them openly to raucous cheers and jeers whenever they passed an Archanean outpost, or devastated cries when it was a village. A few daring rescue attempts ended in failure, with the twins forced to watch the dissidents executed on the spot. The soldiers collected a few more prisoners along the way, although it they were hardly company when speaking up would get them beaten. At one point even Princess Yuliya received a black eye… Lang insisted they be kept in good condition “until the right time,” but permitted it once after raising her shrill voice one time too many.

Four days later they were transferred to Olbern Keep’s dungeon. Conditions were marginally better… their cell was more spacious, they had a cot to share and the walls insulated them against the cold damp nights. But they were still trapped, kept under constant watch, and a lack of windows made timekeeping difficult. The main cell block was only a door away, and every so often they heard screams or wails as their captors tormented the common prisoners. Two days passed and they’d already heard enough to give them nightmares… not that sleep was easy. Although less torturous than their neighbors’ plight, regular harassment prevented them from establishing a sleep cycle.

Yuliya groggily rolled off the side of their cot after being roused by a sudden shout. “Can you keep it down!? You’ve been at it for three nights now!” At least, she thought it was the third night.

The offending guard was a regular night-shifter whose mischievous habits quickly made him their least favorite. “Oh, I’m sawrry, Princess. I seem to forget you’re my liege… oh wait, you’re not! Bahahahaha! Get it, mate? Geddit!?”

“Hahaha… yeah right.” His shift partner tonight was a humorless fellow – a far cry from good company, but at least he left them – and the adjacent inmates – alone.

“Aw c’mon, live a little! Not every day we get royalty under our watch!” he said, persistently nudging with his arm. A sharp nudge back left him gripping his elbow. “Ah! That was my funny bone, man!”

“Then cut it out. My bottle’s already low and I don’t need you eggin’ me on,” the second guard growled before taking a swig of ale.

“Ah, you’re no fun.” The obnoxious guard stood up and walked towards the cage with that stupid grin… Jubelo timidly slipped behind his defiant sister. “You gotta enjoy the moment while it’s here… after all, they won’t be around for much longer.”

“Wh, what are you gonna do to us?” the prince meekly asked.

“Beats me. General Lang hasn’t decided yet… but I’m sure it’ll be a spectacle,” he promised with a smirk. “Either way, once your people see you broken in broad daylight, that’ll be it for old Grust.”

“B-b-broken?”

“Fat chance!” Yuliya shouted, leaning up against the bars. “Grust will never give in to you monsters!”

“Oh? Is that so, Princess? Well, maybe we ought to give you a tour of the main prison,” he taunted, slipping his finger through the bars and making her lean back nervously. “You know, two or three years you might make a good bedwarmer like -CHOMP- AGH!!”

The guard furiously pulled his finger back, further grazing it as Yuliya kept her teeth tightly locked. She pooled the blood into a wad of saliva and spat it right at his crotch.

“Rrrgh, why you indignant…” Angrily he fumbled for the keyring and began checking for the right one. “How ‘bout I give you another black eye to match that-”

His partner bolted up and seized his wrist. “Cool it already, will ya! Lang said no more harm to them before the execution! Your snarky ass is gonna get us whipped.”

“Ugh, fine, killjoy,” he grumbled, yanking his arm away and strolling to the door. “I’m gonna help myself to one of the other damsels.”

“Fine, suit yourself. If it’ll keep you off these brats.”

The saner guard shook his head and slouched back into his seat as the door to the main prison closed. He took another gulp of ale when the noise began. Yuliya and Jubelo tensed up and huddled closely when they heard it… feeble shouts of protest overshadowed by the voices of a desperate woman and the angry guard. They’d already heard that poor woman within another drunken guard last night.

“Get, get off me! GET OFF!”

“Quit struggling and come ‘ere!”

Noticing the children’s disturbed expressions, the second guard casually remarked, “I know what you’re thinkin’. He’s a real loon.”

“Ah! H-help! HEEELLP!!”

“You girls stay back or you’re next!”

“Sometimes I think he’s creepier than Lang. Between you n’ me, I wouldn’t mind if someone came and conked him on-” He nearly fell backwards when he heard a door slam open. “Huh!?”

“Hey, what’re you doing in here!?”

A pained scream from the guard rang out, followed by cheers erupting from the prisoners. The idle guard exchanged confused looks with his prisoners before turning back to the door.

“Stop! Ya can’t do-” A loud slam interrupted “ARGH!”

“What in the blazes!?” The second guard shot up, grabbed his spear and hurried towards the door. He swung it open and gawked. “Hey! Get off ‘im!”

“Oh hey! You got sumthin’ to axe me too?”

“Ugh, and I thought HIS jokes were bad!” he complained while charging in.

The twins stared at the doorway in anticipation. Hope sprouted alongside curiosity as the fighting continued… was somebody here to rescue them? He didn’t sound like Ogma, but whoever he was it sounded like he was winning… the cheers grew louder, and not just because the door was wide open. At point one a guard tried to run back in, only for a burly arm to drag him out. Then a booming “TIMBER!” followed by a sickening crunch confirmed it.

“Heh, thanks for the keys… here, button yourself up and free the rest!”

“The Prince and Princess! They’re in there!” a man pleaded.

“I know, I know! That’s who I’m here for!”

Elation rose as the stranger entered their room. He was a young man with dense blue hair, a grey headband and a filthy sleeveless shirt that left thick, powerful arms on full display. Slung over his right arm was a steel axe, its blade painted maroon from the recent scuffle. He brandished a hand axe in his left, waving it behind him as he crossed into their chamber.

“Relax, I got my key right here!” he insisted before turning towards the twins with a friendly smile. “Oh hey! You must be those kids Ogma’s looking for.”

“Ogma’s here?”

“Yup! He said he’s going after something else. Name’s Barst, but we can chat later.” He set his steel axe against the wall and approached their cell door. “First let me bust you outta there!”

Three well-aimed swings of his hand axe cracked then broke the lock. Just as Yuliya was leading her brother out they heard the second exit door open… Barst hastily pivoted in front of their cell, making them jump back a few inches. “WHO GOES… oh, hey Cap-”

“Hold that thought!”

Dotted with shallow wounds, Ogma hurried in and held the door a few seconds before slamming it shut and bracing it. Several crashes could be heard as pursuant guards piled against the other side. He checked over his shoulder while the noise died down. “Good, you found ‘em. Now grab me that table.”

“Where have you been?” Yuliya demanded.

“Gathering a crew, staking this place out and getting you out before it’s too late. You’re welcome.” He kept one arm firmly against the door while reaching for a pack slung over his shoulder. “Here, I picked up a few things for you.”

Yuliya cut ahead of Barst and snatched the pack before ducking to the side. The long, rigid form clued her in to its contents… she gasped with joy when she saw the bulb of her Rescue staff. A Heal staff was bundled alongside it, and it appeared something else was wedged in the bottom. Pulling the sack inside out revealed a Fire tome. Jubelo happily grabbed it and said, “Thank you so much, sir!”

“Yeah, um, thanks a lot… you, could have picked a better Heal staff, though. This one’s almost spent.”

“You’ll have to make due. I didn’t have time to be choosy,” Ogma replied, reinforcing the table with a chair. Violent banging had already begun from the other side. He checked across the chamber where several prisoners were staring through the door. “All right, let’s move. We’ll take the eastern crossing out, it’ll be harder for them to follow. Aud’s old guard is keeping our escape route open.”

Synchronous slams replaced the banging while the twins walked towards the exit. Yuliya went first to check the scene… after seeing the guards’ mangled corpses she whipped around, covered Jubelo’s eyes and skittishly towed him past the mess. The other prisoners allowed them to pass before following them, with Ogma leading the procession. Barst stopped to close the door and place the guards’ second chair right behind it. He then hurried out to bring up the rear.

It was nighttime when they ran out Olbern Keep’s gates, and while the cover of darkness made them less conspicuous it made their escape more perilous. Aud’s troops were locked in fierce combat with Lang’s when they arrived, and only half had the opportunity to break off and retreat. Those who stayed behind urged them to go on with all their breath. Adding to the chaos was a heavy projectile that suddenly flew into the center of their group… ballistae were highly unreliable at night, but against a mob one only needed a decent clue where to aim. One prisoner fell to stonehoist, and a man and woman stayed behind to help hold the first bridge. As both their liege and a trained cleric, it was difficult for Yuliya to leave them… she dared not look back, lest her conscience weigh her down.

Barst rushed ahead with Ogma to break through the checkpoint on the islet connecting the two bridges. They then stood aside to allow their caravan across the second bridge. “Princess, you lead the way from here. Get the Prince and the prisoners to the forest as fast as you can!” Ogma directed.

“Got it!”

“What!? But-” Jubelo stammered in disbelief as she grabbed his arm. “Yuliya, we can’t leave them!”

She wagged her Rescue staff and answered, “We’re not. Now come on, you heard him!”

The two mercenaries continued ushering their group across the bridge until the last soldier made it through. Barst commented, “This is just like old times, huh?”

“You could say that. Although we’ve never had a job like this before.” Ogma’s eyes were focused on the mob nearly across the first bridge… in the center, a certain general in a nightcap barked orders nonstop. “Barst, let’s take this to the other side.”

“Heh, great idea! Funnel the bastards into the grinder!”

Hope glimmered within when Jubelo looked back and saw them crossing the bridge. It faded just as fast when they turned around to face their pursuers… gloomily, he followed his sister into the woods.

Ogma readied his broadsword. “Stay close Barst. We could leave any minute.”

“Okay… how’ll that go?”

“It’ll happen. Trust me.”

With enough space for two side-by-side and little more, Ogma and Barst had a convenient chokepoint. Night also worked to their advantage, keeping Olbern’s dracoknight regiment grounded and impairing attempts to snipe them from a distance. Ogma stood slightly ahead, drawing more attention from Lang’s soldiers and giving Barst ample room to cut in when needed. He had a vulnerary in case he took a heavy blow, and Barst was robust enough to cover for him if needed.

From the opposite side, General Lang continued shouting orders while brandishing his lance. It seemed he only had time to suit up halfway, and he lacked his shield altogether. “You idiots! There’s only two of them! Hurry up and break through so we can catch those brats!”

“If you want ‘em so bad then come get them yourself!” Ogma then gestured to Barst, who gladly threw in a wisecracking “We’re waaaitiiing!”

“Tch! You… you ingrates! When I get my hands on you, I’ll see that you suffer slowly…”

Ogma rolled his eyes and tuned out the general’s mad rambling. He drove his current opponent back with a mighty swing of his broadsword and requested, “Barst, let me see your hand axe.”

“…and then I’ll boil your hides while those brats wa-AAAH!!”

Lang dropped his lance, ducked and covered when he saw the hand axe flying straight at him… it didn’t even reach halfway before recurving to its owners.

“Hahaha, good one Cap’n! Must be crapping his pants from that scare!”

“RrrrrRRRRRRRGH…” Lang’s fingers ground against the stony pavement beneath him like the molars in his cheeks. Burning red, he picked his lance back up and his eyes flew between his men, whose idle stares suddenly dropped when they saw his fury. “Quit your gawking and KILL them! KILL THEM ALREADY!” Glancing to the west he saw two cavaliers amongst the reinforcements. “You men! To the front! Trample them ‘til there’s nothing left!”

“Geez, this Lang fellow’s all bark and no bi…” Barst paused when he heard thundering hooves and spotted cavalry charging down the bridge. “Stand back Captain, I got this!”

Ogma pivoted behind him as the cavaliers towards them, with Lang’s men likewise scrambling to the sides. Barst hung by the westward rail with his steel axe ready, waiting for the right moment. When the first cavalier raised his lance, he ducked low and swept the horse’s legs out from under it, sending the beast and its rider tumbling in a heap. The second had to veer right to avoid a collision.

“Haha, perfect shot! …Whoa!”

Regardless of the horsemen’s failed charge, it did dislodge their opponents from the chokepoint. Now their infantry comrades funneled forward while the two mercenaries cornered themselves on a small outcropping overlooking the lake. The second rider circled around and dismounted to join them while pikemen and armor knights formed a cage of spearheads.

Fighting back the blades with his hand axe, Barst asked, “So, Captain. About that escape plan…”

“Just stay close and keep fighting. We’ll be rescued soon.”

“Yeeeah, surrre. Rescued…”

With the backlog cleared, General Lang followed his troops across the northern bridge. He shot his prey a sneer when they were in viewing distance… and raised an eye at one’s features.

“Uh, Captain…”

“Any time now… now!”

Lang’s soldiers watched in confusion as a pale green spell circle materialized under Ogma. Realizing what would happen, their commander shouted, “Idiots! Don’t just stand there!”

“Captain, what’s goin’ on- whoa!”

Ogma threw his free arm around Barst and pulled him close. The glow grew so intense everything went white, punctuating by a zooming sound… when he regained his vision they were standing in forest, surrounded by trees and their prison caravan. In front of them, Princess Yuliya breathed heavily and trembled while gripping her staff; she looked like she could pass out any minute. Prince Jubelo was right by her side helping her stay on her feet.

Ogma withdrew his arm, sheathed his sword and relaxed. “Phew… good timing, Princess.”

“She can do that, Captain? That was like, a reverse Warp spell.”

“Yeah, that’s Rescue for you.” He took his place at the head of the group and stated, “Let’s keep moving. We need as much distance as we can get before their dracoknights can see.”

“Imbeciles! Hapless! Imbeciles!” Lang fumed, stomping his foot with every word. “Is this what Archanea’s best and brightest must expect? Can’t even keep two small children under lock and key!?”

“Ah, apologies, General Lang. We weren’t expecting a break-in at this hour… especially not from such a… capable group.” The lieutenant flinched when Lang glared at him over his word choice. “Shall I assemble the dracoknights? Or, perhaps reach out to-”

“No! You’ll just run your cross-eyed hide into the first tree and lose them all over again!”

Lang started pacing whilst his subordinates dawdled on what else to say. In the silence, however, his thoughts returned to what he had seen of the strike group’s leader. Slick blonde hair, the scars across his cheek… it lined up perfectly with the rumors he’d been hearing. Soon his anger subsided and he began chuckling deviously to himself.

“Um, General?”

“I have a better idea… Lieutenant Torus. Dispatch the dracoknights to Macedon first thing tomorrow morning; but more importantly, prepare a rider to deliver my news to the Emperor.”

Torus scratched his head. “Macedon, sir? I thought-”

“I’ll get to that you nitwit, now listen to what I have to say!” he scolded before calming down again. “That swordsman has all the features of someone rumored to be under General Lorenz’s employ. He matches the description of Ogma, a mercenary from Talys.”

“So, Talys has been interfering with-”

“Never mind that backwater island, Talys is but a splash on the world stage! What’s old Moisty’s hick kingdom going to do, lay siege with sand catapults?” He leaned in close and explained, “No, his presence exposes a bigger prize. You see, Emperor Hardin has long suspected Marth of plotting to usurp him. And Prince Marth’s betrothed happens to see Talys’s princess… muahahahaha. Now do you get it? The Emperor’s been searching for proof of conspiracy, and now, Ogma’s meddling confirms it.”

Torus slowly nodded. “Yes, I understand sir… your messenger will be ready first thing tomorrow.”

“Good. That’ll be all. Return to your post.”

“Um, General…” The guard raising his hand froze his hand when the general glowered his way. “P-pardon me sir, but… about sending the others to Macedon?”

“Ah, yes. I almost forgot.” He glanced back to Torus and ordered, “Send our remaining dracoknights to Holm Coast and arrest Archbishop Wendell. He withheld those brats from us for months, and now he’ll pay his dues by helping us corner them.”

“Help us? How do you know he’ll-”

“Silence! Must I explain everything!?” he complained, followed with an exasperated sigh. “Emperor Hardin has warned me of two places they might go. One is the Archbishop’s hometown on Holm Coast. He’s been sighted there more frequently than usual; if you stake out a month he’ll turn up eventually. Bring him here, and if those brats want their dear archbishop so badly they’ll take the bait.”

“Ah, of course. … And, the other?”

“Khadein, you fool! But they won’t find sanctuary there either… even if they breach our blockade at Raman, Archanea’s mages have been busy swaying the city’s interim leader. The Emperor has informed me of our under-the-table alliance,” Lang boasted. “If they turn up in that desert, we’ll have them shipped right back here. Will there be any more questions?”

One soldier curiously asked, “And what if they go elsewhere?”

“Even if they’re not heading for Holm, Macedon’s the closest land unless they risk traveling north. And I’ve already assigned somebody more capable to Macedon… I’ll depart to relay his new assignment tomorrow morning. Anything else?” All soldiers shook their heads. “Good. Now get back to your usual posts, you’re all dismissed!”

Most soldiers began filing across the bridge, save for a trio of armor knights serving as Lang’s personal guard. He took his time following the procession, basking over the fortunate turn of events. Oh, this is just grand! Those brats might escape tonight, but they’ll have nowhere to run. All while running that Altean princeling ragged whilst Hardin sacks his kingdom… soon I’ll have TWO realms under my title! Ohoho, yes! Soon that Menedy scion will see who truly rules the Millennium Court! ALL who looked down on House Lang will see who their better- His thoughts were interrupted by a mighty yawn, followed by eye rubbing. …I better find that quill and scroll before I pass out.

The situation calmed with the cover of forest and no more Archanean hecklers, but the party remained on edge. Darkness made trudging through the overgrowth trickier than usual, and in their fatigue the twins kept stumbling over roots and rocks. Crossing shrubbery was even worse between their clothes catching on branches and the fear that something… or someone… might be lying in wait. The cool, damp air of winter also sapped their energy, its one saving grace being that it also suppressed the bugs.

It didn’t help that with the hysteria behind them, it finally occurred just how exhausted they were. Days of uneven sleep already wore on them, and now it was compounded by sore feet and the biting chill of night. Jubelo had trouble keeping his head raised… even if he ignored Ogma’s cautioning, it was unlikely he could keep a flame. Yuliya likewise used her Heal staff as a walking stick, growling every time it or her dragging feet caught on a disturbance.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Ogma asked for the third time.

“I told you, we’re fine,” the princess groaned, cringing when she struck another root. Damnit!

For crying out loud… He stopped and knelt, extending his arms to the children. “Come here.”

“Back off!”

Ogma growled after she batted away his hand. Fighting to contain his anger he hissed, “Princess, keep your voice down! We can’t let anyone-”

“Ho there!”

He paused, shot the princess an aggravated glare and stood back up. Turning in the voice’s direction he drew his backup weapon, a steel sword secured at the hip. Barst stood at his side with his steel axe ready, and the Grustian troops formed a defensive perimeter around the group. A faint glow from the distant woods clued them in that somebody was close.

“If you know what’s good for you, identify yourself,” he ordered.

“Certainly.”

A hooded man carrying a small lantern emerged from behind a tree. It offered scarcely enough light to navigate, but Ogma could distinguish red beneath his plain cloak, and a bow secured to his back.

“It’s strange to see travelers at this time of night in this neck of the woods. Are you fugitives perchance?” the man inquired. “I believe I can be of assistance.”

Barst raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Say Captain. Ain’t that-”

“I’ll deal with him. Stay here and watch our companions,” Ogma commanded, careful not to let names slip. He remained suspicious of the man’s intentions – especially if it was whom they thought – but sheathed his sword out of courtesy while breaking away. “You stay where you are. I’ll meet you.”

“Suit yourself.”

It was a convenient distance, close enough to keep tabs by eye but out of earshot if they kept their voices low. The man’s refined dialect was Ogma’s first clue, and a closer look at the bow confirmed his suspicions. It was in excellent condition and had a golden sheen, with an ornamental spine halfway down the arm he could see.

Once he was within arm’s length, Ogma stopped and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question. Talys is a long-”

He grabbed his steel sword and slid it halfway. “You first.”

“Fulfilling the duties my emperor tasked me with malicious compliance. He should have known better than to let a snake near the wolf’s den,” the man calmly answered. “Falsifying the fates of villages, directing fugitives to safe places, ensuring Olbern only receives the worst and dimmest sellswords. Anything to impede Aloysius’s cruel ambitions short of a flaming arrow through his cranium.”

“And what’s stopping you?”

“Politics as you might expect. The men under my command are my own; rebelling now would implicate my whole territory. Moreover, I have friends who would miss me if I’m gone… and you, sir? There have been rumors but I imagined you’d work incognito.”

“I had a headscarf before. Lost it fighting my way out of Olbern’s stock room.”

“Ah, so you were raiding the castle… I’m sure I’ll hear of old Aloysius’s tantrums next time I report.” Ogma detected a satisfied grin beneath his hood. “As I said before, I believe I can help. We’ve been ‘pacifying’ a revolt in a nearby village, so to speak turning it into another sanctuary. I don’t expect you’ll relinquish the children, but perhaps I can take the mob off your hands? Then you’ll travel lighter.”

“Give me one good reason to trust you.”

“Who do I think I’d be more loyal to? The prince whose knight help rekindle my passion for archery, or the tyrant who made a general of the hog whose betrayal led several peers to their deaths?” In a more venomous tone he added, “Including my father.”

“…You win.” Ogma slid his steel sword back into its hilt. “Don’t ask where I’ll go from here.”

“I figured you’d keep that under wraps. And I’ll be sure to give Olbern a false story if they ask,” he assured. “Will you do the honors?”

“Sure. Now follow me, and keep that bow over your shoulder.”

Jubelo and Yuliya watched cautiously as their ward brought this unknown man closer. Barst and the soldiers relaxed their stances when they saw no hostility, but kept their weapons ready regardless. Yuliya wasn’t taking any chances though, positioning herself in front of her brother.

“All right, listen up. This man is aligned with the resistance and knows a nearby sanctuary village.” He paused to contemplate an alias for Barst. “Wade and I will take care of the kids from here.”

“And where are you taking us?” Yuliya demanded.

“I’ll tell you when there are no witnesses.”

“I assure you child, they will be in good hands,” the stranger promised.

“Yeah, sure they will… huh?” Yuliya rapidly spun left and right when she detected movement. To her shock, all of their party save for Barst joined him. “Wait, where are you going!?”

“Sorry, Pr… …child. It’s for the best,” a young woman replied.

“A big group like us might attract attention, not to mention we’ll be slower on their feet,” a soldier explained. “Um… sirs. You’ll keep the little ones safe, right?”

“I’ll guard them with my life, just as I have before,” Ogma affirmed.

“Yup. I’m with him all the way,” Barst agreed.

Yuliya tilted her head down in sorrow. “If… if you say so…”

“I, uh, hope you stay safe,” Jubelo weakly said. “Please. I don’t want anyone else to die…”

“Neither do we of the resistance, child,” the man answered. “Do take care of yourselves as well. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday.”

“That, would be nice… and, thank you for your help, Mister.”

“Of course. Safe travels, everyone.”

Jubelo and Yuliya couldn’t help but glance back while they left their countrymen behind – Ogma had to keep prodding them in the right direction. First the stranger’s directives while he organized his party faded, and soon the lantern’s light disappeared as they went the other way. Things remained quiet for the first few minutes after resuming their journey… Ogma and Barst kept their eyes on the woods, wary of sudden movements. Only the light rustling of critters or the hoot of an owl caught their ear. Meanwhile, the twins fought to keep their eyes and ears open.

Ogma looked back one last time to confirm nobody followed them. “All right, we should be alone now. We’ll make our way to… sigh…”

Glancing down, it quickly became apparent how tired his charges were. Dragging their feet with slow, jerking steps, their heads and shoulders slumped far forward.

“That’s it, come here.”

Against the princess’s wishes, he knelt down, snatched her staff and scooped her over his shoulder before taking the prince in his other arm. She whined and kicked feebly to no avail, eventually crossing her arms bitterly. Jubelo was much calmer, relaxing after the first few seconds.

Barst grinned and remarked, “Heh, look at you, Captain! Like a pop tending to-”

“Shut it. Keep your eyes peeled, I got my hands full.”

“Aye-aye.”

Barst took the lead as they continued their journey. Ogma kept hearing a low groan over his left shoulder. “Get some rest, Princess Yuliya. You two need it.”

“It’d be easier if you didn’t smell.”

“You’ve smelled worse. A little body odor won’t kill you.”

Chapter Text

Jubelo awoke to the feeling of a warm body at his side and a soft yet somewhat bristly cushion beneath him. Opening his eyes revealed a dark woody interior, scarcely lit by daylight from around a corner and a few cracks in the architecture. Yuliya was nestled soundly against him; they were sleeping in a bed of hay with an old patchwork blanket to cover them. High wooden fences flanked them on either side, giving the impression of a stable pen… an assumption further backed by the faint odor. Where were they?

Snorting from the adjacent pen startled him. Anxious to confirm their situation he tried to get up, only for his sister to clamp down around him.

“W, wait… don’t, don’t go!” Yuliya muttered drowsily. Her eyes remained shut but her grip was tight. “Brother, it’s… not safe out there… zzz…”

She must be dreaming… Contemplating for a moment, Jubelo had an idea. He gently eased her hands away while whispering, “I’ll be alright, Sister… I, have to avenge General Lorenz. I’ll burn Lang’s face to a crisp, just wait and see.”

Her frightened cringe relaxed into a content grin. “Yeah, you show him! Burn him good… hmm.”

Jubelo smiled as he finally snuck away, tucking the blanket in behind him. Hehe, if only it was that easy. But Lang was a concern for another day… first he had to determine where they were.

Peeking carefully out of their enclosure confirmed it was a stable. Barst’s axe leaned against the wall of the pen to the left, and peering inside he found the mercenary snoozing in his own bed of hay. He snorted and mumbled something before rolling onto his other side with a soft rustle. In the next pen he found Ogma’s bag, along with his and Yuliya’s equipment and a few new items. Food, canteens, blankets… things to keep them going while on the run.

Jubelo checked every other stable and found no traces of Ogma; in fact, they all appeared empty save for a few loose strands of hay. The windows in the back were also shut… light from the hallway clued him where to look next. Before going any further he grabbed his tome… fire magic was risky inside a wooden shelter, but it beat getting caught helpless if danger arose. He took every step cautiously, lowering his foot slowly so that the moccasin met the boards with only a light tap. Stepping on a creaky board made him flinch… seconds later a shadow began approaching from the hallway. He took a few unsteady steps back and raised his casting hand while stuttering nervously.

“Keep your voice down. It’s only me.”

Jubelo sighed with relief when he heard Ogma, followed by the mercenary checking around the corner. “Go back to sleep, Prince Jubelo. It’s too bright out to go anywhere.”

“Um, sorry Ogma, I was feeling restless… you think I could stay up a little while?”

“… For a little while. And stay in here.”

“Okay, sir.”

Jubelo followed him back to his post, a stool facing the building’s entrance. There was no lock or bar on the inside, but a barrel blocked the opposite door so that anyone peeping in couldn’t see them. Ogma’s broadsword leaned against the rail alongside a canteen. All of this was kept in the shadows, outside the view of shutters above the door.

As there was no second seat he opted to remain standing while Ogma sat down, leaned against a beam and crossed his arms. There was a brief silence until the prince asked, “So, where are we?”

“An abandoned barn somewhere southeast of Olbern. That’s all I can tell you right now,” he answered. “We salvaged some food from the owner’s cellar but we’ll need to ration it.”

“Uh huh… say, why leave the one door unblocked?”

“Just in case more fugitives come around. We can’t take them with us but I won’t deny them a good place to hide. If any Archaneans come snooping, I think you know the drill.”

“Uh, yeah…” His gaze focused on the massive sword leaning against the woodwork. Ogma also glimpsed it momentarily before returning to the entrance with an almost unbreakable stare. “Anyway Ogma, I… I wanted to thank you for saving us.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s what Talys would’ve asked of me.”

“That’s, uh, not as easy as it sounds. If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know if we… uh…”

“Think nothing of that either. It’s for your own good.”

“Ah, yeah, probably.” Jubelo paused again to think up another question. “So, Barst… is he your friend?”

“I suppose you could say that. Barst used to be another Talys Mercenary, the best after me. Always had talent but never knew what to do with himself,” he explained, his eyes not budging from the door. “He’ll take over the watch after noon.”

“It must be nice to see him again all the way out here.”

“It was convenient, and he was happy to see me. He’ll probably tell you more later… believe me, he’s more talkative than I am.”

“Yeah, I already figured that.”

A crisp breeze blew through the door and splashed a fresh wave of fatigue over the prince, resulting in a yawn he fought to contain. Ogma caught it from the corner of his eye and suggested, “I think it’s time you went back to bed. Before your sister realizes you’re missing and raises a fuss.”

“Um, true… but I have just one more question.”

Ogma looked directly at him with a raised eyebrow hinting impatience.

“Why do you serve King Mostyn? I mean, so faithfully.”

“House Talys gave me something to live for. Before I met Princess Caeda I had nothing… don’t ask any further. I don’t like talking about it.”

“Okay.” Jubelo started back towards the stables before another question seized his mind. “Oh, one last thing! Where are we going-”

“To Macedon. We’ll take the first ship to Holm Coast available, meet up with Lord Wendell and see what we can do from there.” He turned back towards the entrance. “No more questions. Get some sleep, Prince. You and the Princess need it most.”

“Ah, right.” The prince reluctantly continued towards the stables but couldn’t help turning around one more time. “I hope your shift goes well, Ogma.”

“Same here. Now get going.”

Jubelo declined to drag out their conversation any longer. He walked back to the stable more confidently, pulled up his side of the blanket and lied down next to Yuliya. She fidgeted when he removed her covering but calmed down and nuzzled peacefully against him when he replaced it. The hay felt slightly more comfortable settling back into it.

Ogma woke them at the onset of dusk. The Heal staff had just enough charge to patch last night’s wounds before breaking, and after verifying the coast was clear they set off. In addition to rations, he scavenged a set of cloaks to keep them warm, dry and hidden should they cross paths with anyone. It made marching in the dark less strenuous than last night… the twins’ feet soon ached again, but a good day’s rest without rude awakenings left them feeling refreshed.

Midway through the night, a feral pig skulking the woods accosted them. He was no match for Ogma and Barst but made a lot of noise going down… thankfully, no one was around to hear it. Capitalizing on their kill, they brought it to a nearby creek and butchered it. Jubelo was permitted to light a campfire to cook the meat… their amateur fire-roast left it unevenly done, it lacked the seasoning they were used to, and Yuliya wasn’t pleased about resorting to bushmeat. But it was filling nonetheless, and Ogma insisted they all eat their fill, washing it down with fresh water.

It was also an opportunity to learn about their new company. “Yeah, I had a stint of pirating before meetin’ Ogma. Got bored of woodcutting and wanted to try something new… Captain here set me straight. Bein’ a Talys mercenary was alright, but I grew tired of island life again.” Barst stopped to chew through a mouthful of ham. “Sorry to say I slipped back into the old life since.”

“It’s alright. It ended up doing more good than harm.”

Yuliya gave the fighter a dubious look. Jubelo wondered, “Well, what did he do before then?”

“I tried being a full-time soldier and it didn’t work out. Wasn’t the training regimen, built just fine for that,” he boasted with a quick arm flex. “Nah, it was the people. Those Archaneans are nuts! Actin’ like they’re a class above me when we’re all the same rank ‘cuz I’m from Talys. After two or three months of that I called quits and drifted here working odd jobs. I found another crew, but then I started hearing rumors about some unknown swordsman with scars helping General Lorenz. I jumped ship when I started thinkin’ it was him and whaddya know!”

“It was fortunate that you came. We needed all the muscle we could get for that mission.”

“You bet! I’ll go to the ends of the world for you any day!”

Ogma rolled his eyes awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Why would you work for Archanea in the first place?” Yuliya asked.

Listing off with his fingers he answered, “Closest army to home, didn’t know they’d be that nasty and the leadership seemed promising. Heard it’s gone to hell in the last year, and if this is anything to go by-”

Ogma bumped his shoulder. “That’s enough Barst. No need to dampen their spirits.”

“Nah, it’s alright… it’s true.” Yuliya’s head sank low. Her brother slid closer to comfort her but she scowled in frustration. “What are we even supposed to do? How do we fix this!?”

“You can start by calming down. I have a plan.”

The princess rolled her shoulders back, shut her eyes and started meditating. Her hands tremored together tightly, but Jubelo’s touch brought a sense of comfort. Once she could breathe more freely she opened her eyes, skewered another piece of meat from the pile and held it to the fire. “All right Ogma, what do you have in mind?”

“I told Prince Jubelo earlier. We’ll flee to Macedon, meet up with Lord Wendell and figure out what to do from there. Barst’s old crew moors in the southeast, with him to ask-”

“So you’d chance our lives with pirates!?” Jubelo frantically reached out to catch his sister’s arm before she thrust her meat went straight into the tinder.

Barst protested, “Hey now, I don’t hang with folks who pillage without a care! Can’t stand the quiet life but I won’t ruin it for everyone else! We’re sick of this strife too!”

“Well then what else do pirates do?”

“Guard ports, escort merchant vessels, take bounties on the meaner ships. Think of us like mercenaries of the sea,” he explained. “And you know, most of my boys are Grustian too, so we’ve been plundering Archanean ships as payback for plunderin’ their neighbors!”

Yuliya quieted down and she lifted her meat to a safer height, but her judgmental stare persisted.

“Have some faith kid. When they learn who they’re hauling I’m sure they’ll help.”

“Unless you can warp us across the sea, it’s our best hope,” Ogma added, sampling his rib before holding it back over the flames.

“Yeah, sure,” she grumbled while inspecting her own piece… it was more thoroughly cooked on the lower half. She flipped it and continued cooking while Jubelo reached for another piece. “That begs another question: what if Master Wendell isn’t there? Who do we turn to then?”

Jubelo suggested, “Well, Prince Marth is supposed to be-”

“Are you crazy!? He handed us over to Lang!”

“No! I don’t think he wanted to! One of his knights asked him to give the order, and they all seemed so sad!” he rebutted. “I, I don’t think they, want to be…”

Barst pointed to the prince and remarked, “Yup. That sounds more like the Prince Marth I know.”

“Agreed.” Ogma locked eyes with the twins and said, “Princess Yuliya, I get why you’re worried. Prince Marth is the last person I expected to come and seize you. But I know him well enough to say he cannot be happy with what Lang is doing. Princess Caeda kept him in the dark because he could never stand for this injustice. He’d throw himself to your defense if he knew what was going on, and now that he does, he won’t hand you over to Lang a second time.”

Yuliya remained unconvinced. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because he let his morals slip during the last war and has been flogging himself over it since.”

Her expression wavered into a questioning glance. Jubelo looked similarly inquisitive.

“Prince Marth has the strongest moral compass I know, maybe too strong. He holds onto his ideals in a way some might call childish,” Ogma explained. “Trauma from the last war brought out a darker side. It’s what you’d expect of anyone under harsh circumstances – a constant dour mood, dwelling on his failures and a drive for vengeance against those who wronged him. You two are familiar with that, right?”

Yuliya quietly nodded, followed by her brother after a brief hesitation.

“Most of us can forgive those feelings. Not Prince Marth. He didn’t act too different from before once somebody snapped him out of it, and you might think it never happened. But behind that kind face he continues to beat himself up for sinking too low. Princess Caeda and Princess Elice see this side of him more than anyone else. It’s arguably scarred him as much as the cause, and his sister fears it’s made him regress to some extent. That’s how terrified he is of letting himself slip again.”

The twins’ eyes widened. Does Prince Marth truly judge himself so harshly? they wondered. Barst was munching on his ham but kept an eye open listening intently.

“That’s why you can trust me when I say Prince Marth will not turn you over to General Lang again. If imperial order has no place for his morals, he won’t abandon them. He’ll turn against the order and destroy it before betraying his values a second time.”

Barst’s chewing slowed until he swallowed. “Maaaaan, that’s some heavy stuff.”

“I’ll say… you make it sound scary, Ogma,” Jubelo muttered.

“Scarier than said order wanting you dead?”

“Um…” His sister gave him an incredulous glare when he hesitated. “…no.”

“So you’re saying if we reunite with Prince Marth, he won’t turn us over to Lang again,” she repeated.

“If you have a better Plan B, let me hear it.”

“Um…” Unwilling to give in easily she tried to name a better course of action, but nothing came to mind. Escape to Khadein was unlikely with their current direction, and Archanea’s presence would be bolder without Master Wendell around. Trying for the sanctuary forces to amass a resistance force was tempting, but it would endanger the lives of their subjects. Not to mention they’d have to find one before Archanean troops cornered them…

Reluctantly, she lowered her head and answered, “We’ll try for Macedon, sir.”

“Good. Now eat your fill so we can move. We need to find new shelter before the sun comes up.”

Talk died down, and after sating themselves and cleaning up, Ogma doused the fire and threw the half-eaten carcass into the bushes. The twins’ thoughts were consumed with what their future might hold… hopefully Master Wendell was in the area. As much as their escorts vouched for Prince Marth, their last encounter left them with some doubt. He didn’t put up much fight on their behalf last time… for now, they had no choice but to keep moving and trust the only safely they had left.

Chapter Text

Between roving patrols and another stormy night, it took several more days to reach their destination. Directions became more straightforward after they reached the coast, and though the risk of a passing vessel kept them on edge, they eventually reached the pirates’ hideout. Barst was right about his crew’s sympathies, and by the next dusk they set sail for Macedon. Yuliya and Jubelo could once again sleep peacefully… sure, the rocking of the boat made them queasy, and her crew wasn’t the most pleasant company for two timid children. But it paled in comparison to the feeling of liberation, the chance to sleep and rise by their normal rhythm again. No longer were they caged in their own kingdom, and as soon as they landed they’d be reunited with Master Wendell.

If only it was that simple. Unfortunately the infamous Macedon Vikings had grown bolder with their kingdom’s unrest, and the captain dared not sail too far south. Niether the twins’ nor Ogma’s protests changed their mind, and the group was dropped off about a day’s travel to the north. The west coast of the island was undeveloped, a dense channel of forest walled off by the western ridge and Dolhr’s former territory. Even the Vikings rarely strayed this way with the lack of settlements.

It was high noon of the second day when they spotted their first village. The mountain pass emptied onto a beachfront just north of the main peninsula, leading them to a small cluster of houses. Out to the west was a club-shaped sandbar. “That’s the spit… Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya. Lord Wendell’s village is just southwest. If all goes well, we’ll arrive before nightfall,” Ogma announced.

“Well it’s about time!” Yuliya complained.

“Shhhh! Keep your voice down, we’re on the home turf of the Macedon Vikings!” he hissed.

She gulped and clutched her staff tighter. “Sorry, sir…”

“You’d better be. Normally we’d stay the hell away from here, but that captain didn’t give us a choice. So keep your voices down and keep your cloaks secured. We can’t let anyone see-”

“Um, Ogma?”

“Hm? … Crap, we’ve been spotted.”

Barst’s inquiry and finger tap directed his attention across the river, where one pirate summoned several more out of a fort on the beach. He then pointed in their direction and trudged towards the river while his men fanned over the adjacent territory.

Ogma glanced back at the twins, who were already huddled closely together. “You two, stay behind us and let us do the talking. Wade, you wanna take this?”

“Got it, Captain.” Barst put on a casual smile and took a few steps forward to meet the approaching pirate. “How’s it going sir? Don’t mind us, we just-”

“Listen up lip-flapper! You be enterin’ the territory of the Macedon Vikings!” he barked back.

“Whoa there, we didn’t mean to cause trouble! We were just headed Holm! To the village-”

“I know what that place be! It’s where that old n’ wrinkly archbishop used ta live!”

Jubelo and Yuliya shared a nervous look. Used to?

“Now unless you wanna hightail it out, I suggest ya take off those robes and show us the toll!”

“Toll, huh? Maybe we can work that out, but… why do we need to take off our cloaks?” Barst asked.

“Common sense, ain’t it? Cap’n Gail didn’t become the boss by trustin’ anyone! Wouldn’t want you ta pull a knife out on the way past…” While speaking to Barst, the pirate suspiciously eyed the three behind him. Two children, huddling together and trying to stay behind Ogma.

“We’re just trying to reach Holm, good sir. These children… I’m trying to take them to their grandfather. My father,” Ogma explained. “My brother, Wade and I don’t mean you trouble. We don’t have much money right now, but if you let us pass-”

“Then how’s about leavin’ the kids until then?”

He leered at the pirate from under his hood. “And why would I do that?”

“Think of it as a return on investment. You don’t slash my back, I don’t slash yers,” their accoster joked. “Hehehe… but more important. Those soldiers who came by the other day, they said a young prince and princess might show up around here.”

Shit. Similar thoughts went through everyone’s minds.

“Boss said we’d get a king’s ransom if we caught ‘em alive! And ye don’t see two men leadin’ their kids from the northern pass very often.” With a grin, he took a step towards the children. “Now just take off the hoods, show us you ain’t them n’ no one-”

Barst tried to pivot in front of him. “Look, my bro’s kids are very shy- whoa!”

He swung a hatchet menacingly towards the cloaked fighter. “Don’t play games with me, Wade! Mess with us Vikings and you’ll be meetin’ Shanty Pete’s ghost! Now show me the kids or-”

“Over my dead body!”

The pirate yelled in pain as a sword cut deep into his bicep, severing his grip on the axe. Looking up at his assailant, he saw that Ogma’s hood had fallen back during the charge forward. Slick blonde hair, scarred face, stone cold eyes… everything matched the description the soldiers had provided. “You, you’re that merc… IT’S THEM! WE FOUND ‘EM BOYS! WE- AAARGH!!”

“So much for traveling quietly,” Ogma mused as he sliced upon the pirate’s chest.

Shouting ensued across the river, and at their mate’s last behest a mob of angry and excited pirates began closing in. Hunters waited at the edge of the thicket across the bridge, ready to pepper anyone who tried to escape; and a chance glimpse to the northwest revealed a hooded rogue in the distance. When he swam there, no one knew, but with a blade drawn he seemed just as hostile. Ogma and Barst exchanged a quick glance while throwing off their cloaks, the former sheathing his sidearm in favor of his broadsword while the latter drew the steel axe strapped to his back.

Jubelo clutched his tome tightly beneath his cloak and shook like a leaf. “Um… M-Mister Ogma, I’m scared. Can we go back?”

“No can do, Prince. Every other way to Holm is through mountains or water. Our only choice is to cut through.” He tightened his grip and braced as the first pirates drew close. “Ready, Barst?”

“Always for you, Captain. Let’s do this!”

The prince stuttered nervously. “But! Bu, but, but…”

Yuliya groaned. “Brother, pull yourself together! You’re Prince of Grust! You’re a man!” she chastised while shaking his collar, knocking back his hood in the frenzy. “You didn’t train with that Fire tome to snivel in a corner! Now show some spine and fight with it!”

“But, Master Wendell said I should avoid fighting! You know how dangerous it… besides, I don’t-” He cringed at the first clashing of blades. “I… I really don’t want to…”

“Uuuugh, stop complaining! This is no time to start crying!” She gripped his collar even tighter while fighting back her own tears. “You and I are all we have left. You have to stay strong, because… sniff… I… I don’t what we’re supposed to do… sniff…”

“Yuliya…” Jubelo wiped his sleeve across his face and opened his cloak. “I-I’m sorry, Sister… I’ll, try my best. Please don’t cry, and… d-don’t die.”

“Get it together kids, and don’t leave my- urgh!” After taking an axe to the bicep, Ogma kicked the pirate away. Barst was quick to retaliate while he regained his grip. “No one is dying today while I’m around!”

“Yeah, you can count on that. Captain Ogma always… huh?” Barst paused when he spotted an unusual foe crossing the bridge. “Incoming!”

“What now… … Seriously?”

Ogma could hardly believe what he saw. Among these tattered, baseborn ruffians came a paladin in black atop a white horse. He couldn’t discern the man’s allegiance, not only by the absence of heraldry but the way he rode. Though he had a lance it was kept lax, and he didn’t appear to be coordinating with the pirates. He seemed indifferent, as if following his own agenda… regardless of his motives, he was coming straight towards them.

Ogma took a glance at the twins behind him… they were at first equally perplexed, but as the knight cantered closer Yuliya instinctively placed herself in front of her brother. Over my dead body, he reaffirmed himself, his muscles tensing up in preparation to change targets.

When the knight came within a stone’s throw, he shoved the nearest pirate away with the flat end of his blade and brought it to bear. “And who the hell are you! Are you in league with-”

Suddenly, the knight steered hard left and ran his lance through the pirate Ogma repelled. Combat ground to a halt as shock set in on both sides.

Ogma shared a confused glance with Barst before repeating, “Who are you?”

“I am Sirius… I am merely a traveler,” the knight replied.

Something clicked in the twins’ minds when he turned his head their way. They couldn’t search his face beneath that helmet and face shield, but the way he looked at them… so firm and direct. Like one of Grust’s knights standing at attention, making himself presentable towards his master. And then there was his voice, a powerful baritone that was nonetheless gentle under proper restraint. It sounded like one they had heard before, albeit not in years… not since they were spirited away by that foul pontifex and stripped of their status, freedom and dignity.

Have we met this man? Was the thought that crossed their minds as they shared a contemplative look.

“Oi! Blackcoat!”

The shrill, irate yap of an angry Viking brought them back to reality.

“I thought you was supposed t’be with us!”

Sirius responded by circling his horse around and raising his lance.

“Traitor!!” He spun towards his mates and shouted, “Ya hear that boys!? Kill ‘im with the rest!”

The pirates assailing their position reinvigorated their advance. Ogma and Barst pulled in around Sirius’s flanks, the latter commenting, “Heh! You couldn’t have dropped in at a better time!”

“I agree. Hope you can pardon the mix-up, sir,” Ogma said, eyeing the nearest pirate cautiously.

“Think nothing of it. I wouldn’t want harm to befall those children.”

“Uh huh.” Bringing up the children renewed his suspicion. “Do you know them?”

“No, I don’t.”

Between the brief hesitation and the knight’s slow delivery, he didn’t fully believe his answer. Still, he was in no position to protest with the next wave of pirates closing in. Sirius made the first move, and his bold breakaway raised further questions… charging a group of axes with a lance should be suicide. But the knight was not dissuaded and deftly swung his lance to keep their blades off him and his horse. One or two strikes that got through barely phased him – meanwhile, the three pirates he battled at once were not making light of his counterattacks. This “traveler” was unbelievably skilled, and a quick look over the shoulder revealed the twins were equally surprised.

Seeing an opportunity, he pushed forward and slew the final pirate while he was on the backfoot. Once he had the knight’s attention he asserted, “Just so we’re clear, those kids are under my care.”

“That is what I surmised,” he answered before he looked back ahead, likely assessing their strength. “But as things stand, you won’t protect them with your numbers.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Behind his sarcasm, Ogma knew he was right. Yuliya was out of healing magic, and with Archbishop Wendell taken by Archanea they couldn’t count on his aid.

“Allow me to distract the Vikings while you escape,” he continued, raising his lance towards the ruffians approaching from the southeast. “Their lookouts reported a camp flying the Altean banner outside Holm. You’ll be safer with Prince Marth’s entourage.”

“So Prince Marth’s here? I see…” Ogma froze abruptly, then turned around and shouted, “You hear that, Princess?! Prince Marth is just to the southwest! How about bringing us a helping hand?”

“Really? Um, right…” Yuliya pulled the wrapping off her staff’s bulb and clasped it firmly. “Guardian angel from above… uuuuh…” She stuttered while looking around nervously. This was the first time she tried casting it in a warzone… what if an enemy snuck up on her while she was preparing the spell?

To encourage her, Jubelo quickly conjured a fireball in his hand. “Yuliya, focus on the spell. I’ll cover you… a-ah! Hot, hot!” Unfortunately, the strain on his nerves made his grasp on the flame shakier than usual, and he fumbled it around while trying to hold it ready.

She shut her eyes tightly and muttered, “Guardian angel from above, please, PLEASE answer my call!”

Although her temples were taut and the shouts of man and blade alike rattled her, the spell was working. She got a glimpse of their location from a bird’s-eye view… Ogma, Barst and the knight were keeping the pirates at bay, good. But there was that one thief in the northwest…

“Yuliya, hurry!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying! Watch our north, okay!?”

Her brother fell silent again, but he was still right by her side. Scrolling her view to the distance revealed a skirmish to the southwest, to the right of the mountains. Uniformed knights and a patchwork band of cohorts fighting against more pirate filth. Out of the largely green and blue assemblage she spotted a soft lavender curtain hiding in the middle of the formation. Is that Marisha? They briefly saw her among the Altean Army when Lang abducted them… was she safe with them? She seemed unharmed…

By Naga’s light, what is THAT!?

Her jaw dropped when a pillar of light crashed out of the sky onto an unfortunate pirate, throwing up a cloud of sand and leaving behind a baked corpse. It was half awe-inspiring and half blouse-soiling terrifying… just who, or what forces did Prince Marth call-

“Yuliyaaa…!”

N-never mind that, whatever it is… Humming to process the stress, Yuliya resumed her search. The Altean prince was not among the crowd, but scanning further south she found him at the gates of Holm. His weapon was not drawn, and he appeared to speak cordially with the villager… forget it. If there was a time to blind trust it was now. Hopefully Ogma is telling the truth…

“Let me reach out to the one I seek for aid and bring him here… Rescue!”

In a flash, Prince Marth materialized within the spell circle holding a book. He looked around frantically to regain his bearings after being spirited away. “Where am I!? … Princess Yuliya?”

“Um, help us?” she asked, cowering while frantically shifting her gaze left and right.

“Hm? Yes, this place does look… oh no, not another one!”

To the west he spotted a lone thief several paces away, sneaking towards the village gates. Marth dropped his book, hastily drew a rapier and dashed full speed. The ruffian barely had time to raise his head before the blade pierced his chest… when the prince withdrew it, he fell to the ground limp. Yuliya was stunned by his swift turnaround, coming to the defense of a village he had no history with so decisively. Maybe Ogma was right about him…

Jubelo’s attention was split. He watched the prince’s split-second heroics, but the book he dropped also caught his eye. The blade-like cover symbol against a light-blue background gave the impression of a tome, and he sensed a latent power picking it up. Peeking at the first page revealed the names Wendell Rothfeder and Merric Derwish… was this tome their handiwork?

“What do you have there, Jubelo?”

“It looks like a tome Master Wendell and Merric made.” He inspected it for a name. “Uh, Shaver.”

“Great! Now put it to use!”

“But, Yuliya! This is the first time I’ve seen-”

“Then do something! Anything!” She spun around swiftly to reassess the situation… thankfully they were in no immediate danger. Ogma was facing a pirate by the bridge and their numbers were thinned. Marth was handing Barst a vulnerary. And Sirius was… “Brother, what happened to Sir Sirius?”

“He rode out to kill a hunter that shot an arrow at him, and then… I think he just kept going.”

“Kept going?”

“Well, I don’t think they killed him. But the woods are too thick, so… maybe you could check?”

Yuliya focused with Rescue again and was astounded when she located him. Sirius swept across the beachfront, doing battle with every pirate he crossed… calling it battle was generous. It was more akin to a massacre, most encounters ending in a single blow. He seemed unstoppable as he rode due south towards their stronghold. The Macedon Vikings, feared even on Grust’s southern shores, decimated by a single paladin… just who was this man?

“Yeah, he’s… I think he has it under control.” She lowered her staff and noticed Marth running towards the bridge, rushing in to strike down the pirate locked in battle with Ogma.

“Prince Marth? Nice of you to join us,” Ogma dryly replied.

“You’re welcome Ogma, although it was not by my own power… what is going on? I thought you were in Talys, but here you are, defending-”

“There’s a lot we’ve been keeping from you, Prince. I’ll explain after we deal with…” From the corner of his eye he noticed a familiar bowman sneaking to the frontline. The hunter flinched at his questioning gaze. “And what the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, uh, I was just in the area! Noticed you in a bituva bind, thought I’d pitch in,” he sheepishly stuttered. “No need t’tell Princess I was workin’ for pirates again, or…”

Ogma groaned in exasperation. Gimme a damn break, Castor…

All resistance broke after clearing the pirates within their vicinity. A single straggler tried to ambush them, but the sand slowed his advance; a fireball from Jubelo and a well-placed shot from Castor dispatched him quickly. The only other living souls were two pegasus knights patrolling the skies, whom Marth explained were on their side. Beyond that was a trail of dead pirates ending with Sir Sirius at the Viking Stronghold’s gates, their leader stuck like a pig. As they approached the gates they heard shouting from behind… it was Sir Jagen, riding as fast as his horse could carry him to his prince.

“Easy there Argent,” he muttered to his horse when they stopped; the poor beast appeared on the brink of exhaustion. He dismounted to meet his liege as the group approached. “It’s a relief to see you well, sire. And it seems you’ve located Ogma and the children.”

“You could say they located us. I wasn’t expecting to be warped away so suddenly.”

“Neither were we, but Sir Arran, Dame Kris and I kept the front under control, and I am happy to report we’ve routed the westward pirates.”

“Good. I’ll have to thank Kris and Arran when I see them.”

“I was surprised when Dame Palla reported the eastward side was already under control, and it seems you had capable support,” he mused, referencing the black knight.

Marth turned towards him and said, “Yes, I must extend my gratitude to you as well, Sir… Sirius, was it?”

“That is correct, Prince Marth.”

Marth and company were already baffled by the knight’s intervention, and even greater questions arose when he removed his helmet. What they thought a visor turned out to be a white and black masquerade mask with gold trim, and he had thick blonde hair that could use a thorough combing. Jubelo and Yuliya felt that sense of nostalgia from earlier creep back up upon seeing his face, evoking distant memories from their early years.

He seemed to notice the astonished looks and inquired, “Pardon, does something trouble you?”

“Huh? … No, not all sir. I… just wasn’t expecting such a handsome face among these brigands.”

Sirius chuckled. “You flatter me, Prince Marth, but I was never one of these villains. My home had its own banditry problems in the past, and I wanted to prevent a repeat here. I was staking them out when the little prince and princess came along, forcing me to mount the sting early.”

Little prince and princess? Several officers had taken to calling the twins such, as General Lorenz once called them his little lieges. It could be a coincidence, but it made him sound all the more familiar… however, he was current not their most pressing matter.

“Hm. I see.” Marth was as dubious as Ogma, but out of courtesy withheld his doubts.

“Um…”

Instead, he turned to the twins gazing warily at him from Ogma’s side. Neither showed the same tension as their previous encounter, but he could tell they were still uncomfortable, keeping their guardians between them through the hour-long trek.

“You… you’re not going to turn us over to Lang, are you?” the prince asked.

“Heavens no. I’ve seen that scoundrel for what he truly is and cut ties before coming here.”

“Scoundrel is putting it lightly. And what do you mean by cut exactly?”

“Not in the literal sense, Princess Yuliya. I told him I would not take orders from him anymore, and now that you’re safe I intend to report his crimes to Emperor Hardin.” He hesitated at the twins’ frightened expression. “If you could testify on Grust’s behalf-”

“Forget it! You’re not taking us anywhere near that monster!”

“Monster!? No! Princess Yuliya, you have it all wrong…”

Ogma rebutted, “Prince Marth, it’s the truth. Hardin failed Grust time and again, and after finally getting it right he turns around and sics this monster on them. Face it, this was no accident.”

“But this isn’t like Hardin at all! I refuse to believe it!”

“Believe what you will, but you’re not taking them to Archanea if they don’t want to go. King Mostyn tasked me with protecting them, and I’ll do it even if it means crossing you.”

Sirius took up a position next to Ogma. “As will I.”

“Ogma, Sir Sirius, listen to me. I just don’t see how Hardin could-”

Barst rustled their shoulders and said, “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but…”

While initially annoyed, Marth and Ogma’s eyes widened when he pointed to the sky. “Caeda!?”

From the north a second pegasus in blue was fast approaching. Catria flew beside her and tried to slow her frenzied descent, but they still moved too quickly. Ogma and Barst had to catch her pegasus before it careened into the ground, and once its feet were grounded Sirius joined in to calm the trembling beast. Caeda practically tumbled over the side in exhaustion, with Marth barely catching her. She was shaking, eyes wide open and her hair a tattered mess – hardly the princess the twins were used to.

“Caeda!? Caeda are you alright?!” Marth pleaded to his heaving fiancé. “What happened? Why-”

“Marth… it’s terrible! Altea… uuuuh…” Glancing at all the shocked and worried expressions, she seized up when she spotted Ogma and the twins. “…I have a lot of explaining to do, don’t I?”

“We’ll worry about that later. For now, tell me what happened in Altea! Please!”

“Altea has…” She paused again to slow her breaths as sadness rose over her face. “Altea has been attacked! The Imperial Army invaded!”

“WHAT!?”

Marth and Jagen exchanged disbelieving glances. Yuliya shared an “I told him so” look with Jubelo, to which he agreed, but neither dared voice it. Currently they were more concerned with the disheveled princess and her buckling steed than posterity.

Marth set her down and muttered, “Caeda, don’t cry. We’ll get to the bottom of this… please, tell me everything that happened.” The princess meekly nodded while fighting back tears.

Ogma lightly tapped the twins’ shoulders and quietly suggested, “I think we better give them space… Barst, if you could check the Viking Stronghold for stragglers.”

“Got it, Captain.”

“Great. Thanks… you two, follow me.”

Yuliya and Jubelo wondered what the mercenary had in mind, but there was too much going on to question him. First pirates accost them, then this knight, then Prince Marth, now Caeda telling them that Archanea sacked Altea too? It was overwhelming… thus they began following him north while Sir Jagen directed Catria to attend the pegasus so that he could join his liege.

A few paces later, Sir Sirius circled in front and inquired, “May I ask where you’re taking them, Ogma?”

“Finding someone to keep them company now that they aren’t in mortal danger,” he answered, casually stepping around the knight. “Follow me all you want, but it’s not gonna be you.”

Chapter Text

While Prince Marth brought Caeda into the vacated stronghold to recuperate, Ogma led his group back along the mountains’ eastern face. Along the way they passed Castor scavenging the bodies for loot, an act that earned the twins’ disgust. More respectable figures soon came into view on the northern beach, roughly half appearing to be knights. Yuliya and Jubelo vaguely recognized a few, and Marisha greeted them amicably before sprinting off to find Prince Marth. But Ogma only spared quick glances before directing the procession onward.

“Do you have somebody in mind, Sir Ogma?” Sirius inquired.

“One of Prince Marth’s knights. Good with children, not too imposing. And don’t call me sir.”

“Need I remind you Prince Jubelo and I are not mere children. We are thirteen, and…” Yuliya suddenly paused and shifted to a low snarl.

Jubelo turned right and asked, “Yuliya, what’s wron… oh.”

“Her.”

She scowled at a presence they were loath to see, a young woman with vibrant pink robes and a voluminous brown ponytail. Linde in turn was glaring in their direction before stomping southeast, giving the group a wide berth.

“Wh-what is she doing here?”

“Ignore her. I didn’t realize she was with Prince Marth, but she’s not who… there. That’s him.”

He pointed to a pair of green-haired knights coming down the path. One wore blue armor and carried a shield that suited his formidable build, being nearly Ogma’s height and significantly stouter. The other was shorter with a more modest build, dressed in green and white and carrying a bow. Occupied in conversation, neither noticed the group’s approach.

“That’s what worries me the most. At first, I thought General Lang was acting rogue; but Lady Linde says Emperor Hardin has changed, and now Princess Caeda suddenly shows up?” the larger knight wondered. He raised an eyebrow upon seeing Ogma behind his companion.

The archer hesitated before saying, “Well, yeah. Princess Caeda was supposed to- huh!?” He flinched when a hand grasped the back of his collar. “What the… Ogma!?”

Ogma spun him towards the twins and said, “Prince, Princess, this is Sir Gordin of Altea. Speak with him if you need anything while we’re on march.”

“What!? Ogma, I just met… hey! Where are you going!?”

“I’m a bodyguard, not a babysitter. Call me when we get into another battle,” he replied nonchalantly, heading back towards the stronghold.

“Ogma, get back here! You’re the one who was watching… HEY!” Gordin ran to his side and shouted, “Ogma I am TALKING to you!”

“Don’t you have something more important to do?”

“Don’t you have something more important!?”

Yuliya, Jubelo and their company stared blankly as they continued south, the archer’s uproar drawing attention. The princess looked to her brother, then Sir Sirius, and finally to the armor knight before asking, “So now what?”

“Sir Draug, what’s going on?”

A female swordswoman with a primarily orange outfit and blue hair tied back joined them. Jubelo exclaimed, “Hey, you’re that lady knight who tried to help us!”

“Oh, you remember me? Dame Kris MacLear, Prince Marth’s Royal Guard at your service!” After a respectful bow, she reiterated, “Now Sir Draug, and… masked knight… if you’ll kindly explain what’s going on? All of a sudden I heard Sir Gordin shouting, and…”

“I believe Ogma intends for him to look after these two now that we’re safe,” Sirius explained.

She smiled. “Ah, that’s all? Then I think he made a great choice! Sir Gordin is great with children and a favorite among our juniors!”

“Are you sure? He doesn’t sound happy about it. At all,” Yuliya countered. Jubelo kept staring south, where their argument caught Sir Jagen’s attention.

“Well, he might be unhappy about it being so sudden. Give them a chance to sort it out with Prince Marth and I’m sure he’ll come around.”

Draug added, “And I should probably see how that develops. In the meantime, can I trust you with the Prince and Princess, Dame Kris?”

“Absolutely sir! I’ll set them up with Ryan and report when I’m done.”

Draug thanked her and continued south, muttering about how glad he was to be clear of sand. Kris began directing the twins towards the beach but kept a cautious eye on the masked knight, and after a few seconds stopped to say, “We don’t require your company, Sir…”

“Sirius. You may call me Sir Sirius… I am merely a traveler.”

She narrowed her eyes. Sure, you are… “Well, Sir Sirius, unless you can name your rank and banner, I must ask you to leave the Prince and Princess be.”

Yuliya protested, “Now hold on! Sir Sirius just saved our lives!”

“Yeah! If Sirius hadn’t showed up, we and Ogma could have… h-have…”

Sirius took a step back. “It’s alright, I understand where she’s coming from. I cannot give you further details, Dame Kris, so I will respect your wishes and leave them to you. I bid you all adieu.”

“Thank you.” She held her glower another minute, until she was certain he was leaving. Like I need your consent to follow protocol. “All right, Prince. Princess. Please follow me.”

“Do you need to act so hostile? He saved us,” Yuliya repeated.

“That only goes so far when he won’t tell us why. We cannot extend our trust to just anybody, especially in these times. I learned that the hard way,” she cautioned with a woeful look before quickly recovering her smile. “Now, let me show you someone we can.”

Crossing a short stretch of sand brought them to the fort, now under Altean occupation. She briefly spoke with one ally asking for a Ryan and led the twins inside after receiving direction. Yuliya and Jubelo silently observed their new company in passing… mainly knights, with one or two ordinary-looking folks. Most gave them an innocent look or friendly wave, but Jubelo timidly clutched his sister’s hand, overwhelmed by all the new faces. Yuliya gave them her usual judging glare for it.

After passing a few vacant rooms they stopped in front of open door. Kris peeked inside and called, “Ryan? May I speak with you a moment?”

“Kris? Sure, you can come in.”

Inside was a boy who looked their age, maybe even younger, with a bowl cut of dense green hair and matching eyes. He closely resembled the archer Ogma introduced them to, albeit with drabber gear. “Oh, hello… you’re that prince and princess we were looking for.”

“Ryan, this is Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya. Your brother has been tasked with looking after them. Can I ask you to watch them while I fetch him?”

His face lit up when she mentioned his brother. “Oh, sure! I think you two will like him! Big Brother’s always been good with kids!”

“Great! I’ll be back with your brother soon! Thank you, Ryan!”

The room went silent after Kris closed the door. For about half a minute the two parties stared at each other, Yuliya and Jubelo unsure what to make of him while Ryan was unnerved by the princess’s hard look. He twiddled his fingers and said, “Uh, please don’t mind the mess… I only picked this room a few minutes ago, a-and I’ve been waiting for him to help organize it.” He stepped back and sat on the cot behind him. “But, the beds are okay! They’re not the worst I’ve slept on… if you share a room with us, we can carry in two more when he gets here.”

“You look awfully young for a knight,” Yuliya remarked.

“Oh? Um, yeah, I-I-I, we get that a lot… Big Brother and I always looked young and small for our age. It, runs in the family,” he admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m fifteen, and he’s the same age as Prince Marth! Actually, I think he’s older… his birthday’s almost two months earlier. He should be turning twenty around now.”

The twins sat on the opposite cot. “Oookay…”

“Sorry, I’m not the best host… usually he does the talking. He used to be shy like me, but started sticking up for me when we were younger. I’m trying to be more like him.”

Yuliya raised an eyebrow. Sticking up for you?

“Do you think highly of your brother, Ryan? …I mean, Sir Ryan,” Jubelo asked.

“Ryan is fine. I’m still getting used to being called sir… and yeah, I couldn’t ask for a better brother! The other kids used to pick on us and call us shrimps, and sometimes our parents got on our cases… but whenever that happened, Big Brother was always there for me.”

Even your parents?!

“And not just me! When General Lang was threatening Prince Marth and this mage who’s traveling with us, Big Brother scared him good! Kris stepped in and drew her weapon first, but bouncing an arrow off his pauldron really put him on the backfoot!”

Yuliya gasped in awe. Jubelo exclaimed, “Whoa! Really!?”

“Yup! ‘One step closer and I won’t miss!’ That’s what he said, and afterwards others started-”

“Tell us more about your brother… Sir Gordin. From the beginning.”

“Hm?” Ryan wavered when he saw the princess’s stare… now one of genuine curiosity, but still quite intense. “O-okay… it started around when I was four. Big Brother often came home upset…”

By the time Gordin’s protesting reached Prince Marth, Princess Caeda had recovered enough to take part and insisted they hold it inside the stronghold. Jubelo and Yuliya mustn’t be allowed inside, she warned, lest the discussion become sensitive. Catria was asked to keep an eye from the skies, Barst took the front gate, and Draug guarded the room’s entrance while keeping an ear to their discussion.

Ogma reasoned, “All I’m saying is they could use company closer to their age. Until now it’s mostly been me, Lord Wendell, General Lorenz and their handlers.”

“So you’re saying it’s because I look like a kid?!”

“No, it’s because you’re more than a decade my junior. That’s a fact.”

Marth urged, “Gordin, Ogma, settle down… now Ogma, I see where you’re coming from. Among our knights, Gordin has the most experience with children.”

“Nor would it be his first time watching after royalty. But Princess Minerva consulted with us before entrusting Princess Maria to him and Draug, and they had a few days’ march to adjust. Is it wise to hand them off so quickly?” Jagen asked.

“My job is to keep them safe. I’ll be back at it next time we’re in danger, but leave the caretaking to somebody more qualified. A battle-hardened mercenary with a bleak history’s not the best influence, let alone for royalty.” Caeda sent a wistful look that spoke otherwise, but he ignored it.

Gordin retorted, “Okay, what makes you think that somebody is me? You do realize Archanea’s been ransacking their kingdom, and my archery instructor happens to be-”

“I do, and he’s why you know the most of anyone here, smart-mouth.”

Ogma’s accusation stunned Marth and Jagen, but the archer’s panicked reaction really surprised them. Draug poked his head in equally shocked, while Caeda was nearly as trepidant as Gordin.

“Come on, it’s written all over his face. I ran into your teacher after busting them out of Olbern. If anyone knew what’s been going on, it’s you.”

Jagen planted his palm on the table and shifted to a seething glare. “Gordin? What have you been-”

“Whatever he withheld, I take responsibility for!”

Jagen and Marth looked across the table. “Princess Caeda!?”

“Please, let’s keep it on topic. I… I have a lot to explain. For all of us.” She then sat down and slumped back into weariness, breathing heavily. Ogma apologetically patted her on the back. “Thank you, Ogma.”

Gordin huffed. “Thanks, Princess Caeda… as I was saying. What makes you think they’ll be comfortable being around his apprentice?”

“Then don’t tell them yet. Wait until they trust you first. They’ll have to come to terms with there being good Archaneans eventually.”

Marth exchanged glances with Jagen, seemingly agreeing with Ogma’s rationale.

“And what happens if it slips early? How will they feel knowing I lied to them!?” He turned to his liege and pleaded, “Sire, you saw how much they’ve suffered. Let someone who isn’t one slip from disaster watch them. Like Father Wrys! We just saved him from being hunted in the woods… or Julian! He’s been taking care of orphans with Lena since…” He paused when Marth stared towards the entrance. “Sire?”

“One moment, Gordin… Kris? Is there a reason you’ve been loitering?”

“Oh, pardon the interruption, sire,” she replied while stepping inside. “I came to report that I left Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya with Ryan and came to pick up Sir Gordin. He’ll be watching them?”

Ogma seized on the silence and asked, “See? They sound comfortable with it. Anyone want to tell them it was all a misunderstanding and drag this out?” He paid no mind to the stink eye he was receiving.

Marth requested, “Gordin, can I ask you to set aside your feelings? You’ll be relieved after we rescue Archbishop Wendell, but until then…”

He uttered a long, frustrated sigh. Thanks a lot, Kris… “All right, fine. I’ll do it. But no one says a word about you-know-who until I do!”

“That would be for the best.” Caeda rose and offered, “I’ll come along and give you a proper introduction. It’ll help if I vouch for you. Kris, will you show us the way?”

“Of course, Princess Caeda. They’re in that fort on the beach.”

“While you’re there, tell everyone they can bring camp here. This stronghold is big enough to accommodate us all,” Marth added before glancing to his fiancée. “And Caeda…”

“Yes, Marth. I’ll explain everything when I get back…”

Waiting at the archway, Kris quickly noticed Caeda and Gordin’s moods, the former full of dread and the latter embittered. She tried to cheer them up with a smile. “Don’t worry, Sir Gordin. I’m sure they’ll warm up to… you…” To her dismay, he crossed his arms and looked the other way. “Um, sorry for bothering you…” To Caeda she whispered, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not by your own fault.”

“I’m a bodyguard, not a babysitter,” he mumbled in a low, whiny tone. “Pfft, gimme a friggin’ break…”

Caeda weaved past Kris and prodded his shoulder. “Hey. Knock it off. I better not see that around them.”

“I will, Caeda, just… let me let off steam, okay?” With a huff he resumed his sideward stare, but slowed his steps when he noticed someone trailing them from the corner of his eye. “Can we help you, Linde? You passed by several times during our meeting.”

The mage hastened her steps to walk alongside them. “Ah, excuse me. I was actually thinking the same… if you need a break, maybe I’ll watch them for a while?”

Gordin stopped. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea… Caeda?”

“Linde, Merric wrote about your initial meeting, and how poorly it went,” Caeda cautioned.

“U-unfortunately, that’s true…” Her smile dropped to a despondent sideward glance before a more confident face took its place. “But I want to change that! I felt bad about not realizing my kingdom’s crimes, and that my presence frightened them. Let me help and I’ll show them there are good people in Archanea… Lady Nyna and I despise Lang and don’t approve Hardins’s recent actions either. Besides, you heard what Ogma said!”

“He said eventually. Right now, I don’t think we’re anywhere close.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try!”

Kris suggested, “Lady Linde, how about you let us acquaint them with Sir Gordin first? Then we’ll see how receptive they are to you.”

“All right. And Princess Caeda, I understand your concerns, but I want to try. I think we could be great friends if given the chance… at least, I’d like to be.”

“As you will, Linde. But let’s focus on them meeting Gordin first.”

After they continued walking, Caeda made sure Linde wasn’t looking before tilting her head to Kris and shaking it lightly with a dubious expression. This is a bad ideeeaaa… Checking the other way, she received a deadpan scowl from Gordin – half in agreement, half blaming her for this mess.

“So, what should I know about my new charges?”

“Prince Jubelo always struggled with shyness but is otherwise easygoing. I don’t think you’ll have trouble with him,” she explained, hesitating before discussing his sister. “Princess Yuliya, you might call a royal brat. She’s more active and will cause a fuss if you upset them, especially Jubelo.”

“Greeeeeat…”

“I’m afraid it gets worse. You need to know about that staff she carries…”

“I was too scared to get involved and started calling for help. Then he tried coming after me, but Big Brother lunged at his legs!”

Although it took Ryan a few minutes to find a good pace and recall his earliest memories, with practice his storytelling became more fluid. It certainly helped that his audience genuinely enjoyed them, Yuliya in particular becoming enthralled after he started describing how combative Gordin could be when pushed. Now he shared one of their favorites, the time they intervened when one of the kids was being beaten up by his older brother.

“Thankfully two other squires arrived soon after, so he and Mitchel weren’t hurt too badly… we let him come home with us afterwards to explain it to our parents. He was very grateful! From that day on he started siding with Big Brother and me, and the other kids picked on us less!”

“And they should! Coming to his defense even after being a jerk to you?” Yuliya exclaimed.

Jubelo nodded. “And against someone much bigger! You said they weren’t hurt too badly, but…”

“They had bruises for a couple days, but he said he didn’t regret it. We didn’t see him again afterwards… according to Mitchel, he left Altea. Getting caught beating children ruined his standing and got him expelled from training. We don’t know what happened to him, or…”

“Who cares what happened to him? He had no business being a knight anywhere! Your brother displayed more knightly character that day than he could ever muster!” she proclaimed before turning to her left. “Jubelo, you must learn to follow Sir Gordin’s example!”

“What? But Yuliya, we haven’t! …Uh…”

“So what if our circumstances were different? You’ll be a king someday! You must show courage!”

“H-hey now, Princess Yuliya…” Ryan tried to intervene, but the glower Yuliya responded with made him nervous. “You, uh, you don’t need to be so hard on… Prince, Jubelo…” Boy, I wish Big Brother was here. He’d know what to say…

Fortunately, a knock on the door followed by Princess Caeda’s voice interrupted them. “Sir Ryan? May we speak with you?”

“Princess Caeda? …Uh, sure! Come in!”

Yuliya backed off and resumed a neutral posture while Caeda opened the door and greeted them with a cheerful smile. “Hello there! It’s a relief to see you two doing well! Is Ryan making you feel at home?”

“I wouldn’t say we’ve been doing well, but Ogma’s kept us safe,” Yuliya replied.

“Yeah! Thanks for sending him to help us! We couldn’t have, um…” Jubelo focused on the heads behind her. “Who’s there with you, Princess Caeda? Is that Kris?”

“Present!” Caeda stepped to the door frame’s right so she could enter, and she in turn shuffled left to allow their third member in. “Please excuse the confusion, and the wait.”

“We talked it over with Prince Marth and Sir Jagen, and after careful consideration we agreed that Sir Gordin will see to your needs until we find Archbishop Wendell,” Caeda explained.

He grinned bashfully. “Um, yeah. I-it’s as they say… and, just to clear things up, I wasn’t angry at you earlier. That was directed at Ogma. You understand, right?”

A small smile crept up Yuliya’s cheeks. “It’s okay. Ogma was never the best talker.”

“Uh-huh. He’s been reliable, but, quiet… and very direct in how he does things.”

“Ogma will resume protecting you when we find ourselves in another battle, but until then we believe you’d benefit from other company.” Caeda glanced to Ryan on the other side, who returned a curious stare. “And it looks like you’re off to a good start!”

“Ryan has been telling us about what you did when you were younger, defending him from bullies when he couldn’t!” Yuliya exclaimed, hopping to her feet in excitement. “We’ve been waiting to hear your side of the story, Sir Gordin!”

“Mine? Really? Ah, great…” Gordin felt flattered at the princess’s warm reception; he scrolled his eyes to Kris, who giggled. See? I told them they would like you!

“Yeah! I didn’t realize you were so brave, even as a child! It sounds like you’ve been a model knight… since…” She paused and glared suspiciously past them. “And what is she doing here!?”

“Um, pardon me.” Linde stepped in with a shy smile as Gordin moved aside. “I was-”

“Don’t think we haven’t forgotten, creep! You ratted us out to Archanea!”

She gasped in shock. “What!? No, I’d never-!”

“Liar! We got the edict that sent us home after your little ‘visit’ to Khadein! You’ve been plotting against us from the start, just like Princess Nyna and Emperor Hardin!”

“It’s Empress!” Her retort only worsened Yuliya’s mood. “And, uh… listen, this is all a misunderstanding!”

Yuliya reached back for her staff, stood in front of her brother and brandished it menacingly when she tried coming closer. “Not another step closer, monster! Stay back, I’m warning you!” When Linde tiptoed forward, she rattled it and shouted, “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME THE FIRST TIME!?”

“I-i-if you’ll just let me explain, I can… uh… I, can…”

Linde’s stammers tapered off when Kris and Gordin intercepted her. The former subtly shook her head with a worried expression while the latter growled through his teeth, “Don’t make this WORSE!”

Caeda tapped her shoulder. “Linde, I think you should give them space. Bad actors from your kingdom have caused them a lot of grief.”

“Ah, okay… Princess Yuliya, I’m sorry if I-”

“We want nothing to do with you! Beat it!”

“R-right, I… I get it.”

Jubelo silently watched as the mage walked out dejected. While Yuliya’s seething glare remained even after she was out of the sight, the others didn’t share her sentiment… they looked more disappointed. Linde herself never acted on any sort of threat, and her sadness seemed sincere. Their reactions gave him something to think about… was she really the monster Yuliya claimed?

“Yeah, you better leave! Come back again and we’ll see you-”

Gordin turned around and said, “Princess Yuliya, you can stop now. She won’t bother you again.”

Yuliya’s scowl dropped to a more apprehensive look, her grip on the staff loosening but still anxious. “…Are you sure? You don’t sound like you’re, getting rid of her.”

“She’s been traveling with Prince Marth and will continue traveling with us. But we’ll ensure she doesn’t get too close. All of us will,” Caeda promised.

Kris added, “And if you’re looking for safety in numbers, you’re always welcome with the 7th Platoon! That’s the unit Ryan and I trained in.”

“You see, Princess? Nobody was happy about leaving you to General Lang. We’re not about to let him take you again, nor any other Archanean who worries you,” Gordin assured.

Her cheeks curved upward. “Okay… thank you sir. And Princess Caeda… I, feel better now.”

“Great. Now just relax, and… actually, there’s one more thing. Princess Caeda, can you and Kris stay with them a little longer? I need a minute to speak with Ryan.”

“Go ahead. Say what you need to.”

Ryan hopped to his feet while Yuliya sat back down, and after he followed his brother out Caeda moved in front of the doorway. “As others said, I think you’ll be happy with your new wards. Sir Gordin has been my personal assistant for the last year and was very capable in the role.”

Yuliya and Jubelo grew more excited. “Really?”

Kris affirmed, “Oh yes! Sir Gordin has been a great help to Princess Caeda! …Well, I haven’t seen much of it. Most of their work is behind closed doors.”

“It was mostly refining plans to improve the training program. We like our privacy and didn’t want to risk it getting into the hands of cheaters.” Or for other matters to slip out…

After leading his brother out of sight, Gordin adopted a more serious expression. “Keep your voice down so they can’t hear us… you didn’t tell them about Master Jeorge, did you?”

“No, I didn’t get that far… and, thought you should…”

“Good man. Not a word about him until I say so. They are not ready to hear it!”

“Uuh huh.” Ryan looked down the hall past him, recalling how they reacted to Linde. After resuming eye contact he asked, “In light of that, should you be…?”

“No, but I wasn’t given much choice… just play nice, okay? This isn’t their fault.”

“Got it. I’ll help you any way I can, Big Brother.”

Gordin smiled and spread his arms. “You’re the best little bro I can ask for.”

They shared a quick hug before sneaking back in, and after letting Caeda finish her sentence Gordin announced, “Okay, we can take it from here.”

“Thank you Gordin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a… very hard conversation with Marth waiting.”

Most of the room watched in confusion as the princess left, suddenly consumed with chilling dread. What’s that about? Kris wondered. “…I’ll leave you be too, but one more thing: Prince Marth wants everyone to relocate to the Vikings’ stronghold. It will be spacious enough to house us all.”

“Okay Kris. We’ll see you later.”

Ryan gave her a few seconds to depart before then asking, “Before I forget… Big Brother, what’s Princess Caeda doing here? I thought she was staying in Altea.”

“Well, that’s because Altea was attacked by-”

“WHAT!?”

Gordin quickly stepped forward. “Easy Ryan, it’ll be alright. Don’t, don’t cry…”

“B-but Mom, Pop… mmmm… a-a-are they gonna be… sniff…”

Yuliya watched guiltily as Gordin drew Ryan into a comforting embrace. Seeing him devolve into a sniffling, nervous wreck instantly made her regret blurting it out. This was reinforced by her brother’s disapproving frown. “Yuliya…”

“I, I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant to say was… Sir Gordin, have you been through this before?”

“Yeah, I was part of Prince Marth’s escort when we went into exile.” …That’s it! Having an idea, he lightly tapped the corner of Ryan’s face to get his attention. Then with a gentle smile he assured, “Be brave, Ryan. Remember, Mom and Pop thought I was gone when Altea first fell, but I came back with Prince Marth three years later.”

“Ah… yeah, but… what about them?”

“I know, I felt the same about you when I was away. ‘Would we have a home to return to? Would you still be alive?’ Those questions gnawed at me the whole time. But Altea was still standing when we arrived, and you were all safe and sound. Archanea’s more civil than Dolhr, so I’m confident it’ll be better than that time when we head home.”

You sure about that? While doubting his remarks on Archanea, Yuliya decided to keep it to herseslf. She stepped towards the brothers and asserted, “It’s as Sir Gordin says. Grust continues its cling to survival in spite of Archanea’s best efforts to wipe us out. We’ve um, heard a few tales of Altea’s valor, and if its people are anything like ours, they’ll survive too.”

Jubelo added, “Right! Have some faith, Ryan. Archanea’s been chasing us for months and they haven’t kept us down. We’ll, we’ll find some way again!”

His sister grinned proudly. “Correct, Brother! Prince Marth promised to protect us from Lang, and that entails retaking our homeland… mark my words! Once you help us liberate our kingdom, we shall do all we can to help liberate yours! We’ll take our revenge on Archanea together!”

We will? Jubelo was stunned by her sister’s bold proclamation. It wasn’t like her to make promises to new faces, nor was he thrilled about being at war longer… still, he didn’t want to see Ryan upset. “Uh, like she said! If Prince Marth helps us take back Grust, it’s only right that we return the favor!”

“Ha… thanks, you two.” Ryan wiped away tears with his wrist and replied, “You’re right. Big Brother made it through similar before and… well, this is what I signed up for.”

“It’s not always what you expect, Ryan, but as knights of Altea it’s our job to face the unexpected.” Relieved by his brother calming down, Gordin turned to the twins. Maybe they won’t be so bad after all. “Thanks for helping Ryan through this tough time. If you can instill that kind of hope in your people, I’m sure Grust has a bright future ahead!”

Their gratitude brought a warm smile to Jubelo and an even wider grin to Yuliya. Caeda, you could not have picked us a better ward!

“So, uh, now that that’s news to us… why don’t you tell us about yourselves?” Ryan innocently asked.

The twins shared an uneasy glance before looking back at him. “Can we, uh, set up our new room first? I-it’s not an easy story,” Yuliya requested. Jubelo nodded rapidly.

Gordin agreed, “Yeah, let’s settle into the stronghold first. Ryan, can you help with our bags?”

Dame Kris MacLear – Dutiful Shadow

Some might call the captain of the 7th Platoon’s story too good to be true. Granddaughter of the controversial Sir MacLear, Kris was trained from an early age to one day continue his knightly lineage. Following his death she wasted no time enlisting as Altea sought to rebuild, and under her leadership the platoon passed its exams with flying colors. When they helped Prince Marth fight off an attempt on his life he knew she was someone he could count on, and thus promoted her to his Royal Guard on the spot. Crazy story, I know! …Still, how else would she make this post so soon?

As his Royal Guard, Dame Kris accompanied Prince Marth on his Grustian expedition, and now she’s seeing more of the world than she anticipated. It’s overwhelming at times… all these people, places, events going on… still, she can always count on training to clear her head. Such frequent practice may bore her peers, but to her the routine’s quite comforting. That doesn’t mean she turns a blind eye to all of it – her responsibilities demand she keep tabs on new developments.

Chapter Text

By mid-afternoon the twins, along with their new wards, had relocated to a respectable chamber in the stronghold’s west wing. It was a comfortable distance from the main barracks, remote enough to stay private but a short walk away if they wanted to mingle. Also as far from Linde’s room as possible, Caeda assured… she’d be staying in the east wing.

Still, Yuliya and Jubelo were more interested in getting to know their roommates. After sharing their own tales, abridged as much as made them comfortable, Gordin resumed telling his side of the story. Yuliya’s sheer enjoyment continued to surprise Jubelo… sure, he found their early lives interesting too, and Gordin’s defense of his brother was something to admire. But was it that admirable? She never warmed up to strangers this quickly, and even Master Wendell took time earning her trust. The regular belittling he received for not being more like Sir Gordin didn’t help.

“Farrel was playing rough in the yard, so I saw the perfect opportunity! I loaded my slingshot, waited for the right moment… and POW! Made it look like he knocked over the flowerpot!” Gordin exclaimed. “His mom was so mad, and I never got caught!”

Yuliya cheered, “Haha! That’ll teach him for pulling your hair!”

“Hehehe! Who knew you were so mischievous, Sir Gordin!” Marisha commented.

“Haha, thank you Marisha, but it’s something I’m trying to put behind me these days.”

“Awwww! So lame!”

“So what? Even if he doesn’t make mischief anymore, it shows cleverness from an early age.” She turned towards her brother and scolded, “Jubelo, you must learn to be crafty too!”

Gordin sighed and shook his head as the prince shrank under scrutiny. Again? “Princess Yuliya, this is the third time you’ve scolded your brother for nothing.”

“Fourth, actually,” Ryan corrected.

“Third, fourth, my point stands. I ask that you please stop picking on him.”

“But he needs to stop being a wimp! He’s the… uuuh…”

Yuliya’s protests petered out when she saw him slip into an annoyed scowl. After a few more seconds stuttering she eventually settled on a meek, “Well… why not?”

His expression flattened out. “Well, you remember what Ryan and I said before? About how our parents gave him a hard time?”

“Of course! And you bravely stood up for him!”

“It was over what you’re doing to him.”

Yuliya was taken aback. “Huh? …No, I’m trying to help him! He needs to grow out of his cowardice!”

“That’s why Mom and Pop were pushing Ryan. They wanted him to branch out and make friends the way I was starting to. Right, Ryan?”

“Uh-huh… it, didn’t help. All it did was scare me more,” Ryan recalled, twiddling his fingers. “And I don’t think he finds it helpful either. What do you think, Prince Jubelo?”

“I… … u-u-uh…”

Jubelo tried to answer honestly but couldn’t find the words under his sister’s intense stare. After about ten seconds of deliberating Gordin rose and said, “This isn’t going to work. Let’s try something else… Prince Jubelo, close your eyes and take deep breaths. Try to calm down and then we’ll continue.”

“Uh, okay sir,” he replied, folding his hands and shutting his eyes.

“No one else say a word. Give him time to relax.” He then stepped towards the exit, looked at Yuliya and instructed, “Follow me, Princess. It’ll be easier without you in here.”

“Huh? But I… um…” She quieted down when he put his finger to his lips, peeping, “Okay…”

“And leave your staff.”

She gasped, stopped reaching for her staff and gave him a sad look, but his gaze remained stern and he shook his head. Sighing, she lowered her arm, slipped off the side of the bed and began following him. To her surprise however, he started directing her towards his cot.

“Remember, not a word,” he whispered before gesturing to his brother. “Ryan, follow me.”

Ryan nodded and walked past the princess while she tiptoed to their side and sat down. It was awkward silence the minute after they left… Yuliya and Marisha alternated between staring idly at Jubelo and at each other. The prince was serene, striking the meditative pose Master Wendell taught them, and Yuliya quietly slipped into it too. She started to feel guilty when it occurred to him how much calmer he was with her “gone”… was she really the problem here?

After what felt much longer than it was, Gordin opened the door and stepped back inside alone. “You look much better, Prince Jubelo. How do you feel staying like that?”

He smiled. “Yes, I, think I’d like that.”

“Good. Then whenever you’re ready, answer honestly… when your sister pushes you to act braver, does it make you feel more confident?”

His expression sank to a dour, albeit still relaxed frown. “No. All it does is make me feel worse about myself… like I’ve failed at being king for I even tried.”

Ouch. Poor guy… “Okay Prince, you can open your eyes now.”

Jubelo took one more breath before doing as told to ease away the tension. He thought his heart might stop when he saw his sister across the room. “Yuliya!? I, I didn’t mean-”

“Brother…” She bounced to her feet and ran over, but she wasn’t angry… instead, she looked devastated. “I-I never meant to hurt you, Jubelo I… w-was I, was I really…?”

“Um, y-yes, you were… don’t cry, Yuliya.”

“I’m so sorry Jubelo!” She sat down next to him while Jubelo put an arm around her, fighting back tears. “…I, I only want to help you. Honest… sniff… if you had only said something…”

Gordin felt his eyes water a little. Sorry Princess, It’s never easy, but you had to hear it. He knocked on the door and called, “You can come back now, Ryan.”

“Okay.” He cracked the door open and looked despondently at the twins. “Ah…”

“No! Don’t apologize!” Yuliya insisted, starting to regain her edge. “This is my fault. I should be asking your forgiveness, not you.”

Well maybe if you didn’t say it like that, Marisha thought to herself. She didn’t want to provoke the princess again but was glad someone gave her a wakeup call.

“Now do you get it, Princess Yuliya? You can’t scare him into being braver. He looks to you for support, and pushing him so hard only makes him feel more alone,” Gordin lectured.

“Yes, I… I think I get it, sir,” she muttered, wiping away her last tears. “But, he still needs to learn how to stand up for himself. That doesn’t change.”

“Big Brother said the same to me after our fights. He wanted me to grow stronger too… just, in a way that works,” Ryan added while sitting back down. “I’m sure your brother wants to grow out of it too!”

“Of course, Yuliya. I don’t want to be a wimp forever… I just, need more time to grow.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot to work on. You have big shoes to fill as Grust’s next king, and you can’t afford to slack off after the last failure!”

“Was your father that… uuuuhh…” Ryan trailed off when she grimaced toward him.

“He was no father to us. Ludwik surrendered us to Gharnef to save his own skin.”

“Mmm, hm…” He glanced uneasily to his brother, who gave him a reassuring look despite his clear annoyance. We’ve got to work on YOUR manners too, Princess, Gordin was thinking.

“I know, Yuliya. I want to be better than Fa… Ludwik.”

“Then you must look further back, to the previous three kings… why, look to our first king! You’ll find no better example than King Ordwin!”

Ryan mused, “Ordwin?”

“Ordwin von Grunia, ex-Archanean general and a hero in the War of Liberation. He received the western frontier land for his service and forged it into a kingdom more noble than his home!” Yuliya exposited with renewed pep and pride. “As King and Commander he tamed the native barbarian tribes and molded them into a respectable people! Some joined the finest knights on the continent, others crafted great innovations like the ballista! It matters not what walk of life you rose from, or how you shall serve our kingdom. But serve it you shall… that was the tenet by which Grust became a great nation.”

Marisha rolled her eyes. There she goes again…

Ryan however was more intrigued. “Wow. Sounds like King Ordwin did a lot… say, Big Brother! His name sounds a lot like yours, doesn’t it.”

“Ryan, there’s a world of difference between us…”

“Hm? You know, it does…” She wagged her finger like a metronome and happily chirped, “Ordwin, Gordin! Ordwin, Gordin!”

Jubelo tapped his chin. “Yeah, they do sound pretty similar…”

Gordin started to blush. “Really, it’s all just coincidence… um, I’m going to go check on something real quick. Won’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Okay Sir Gordwin… I-I-I mean! Ord, Gord…” She covered her mouth with her hands and turned redder. Marisha and Ryan turned away to hide their giggles.

“Just, take it easy, Princess. I’ll, be back soon!” Once I know someone ELSE won’t.

There was a lull in activity while he departed and everyone settled down. Ryan remarked, “See Princess? I thought you and Prince Jubelo would like Big Brother!”

“Ahah, yes, Ryan… it, appears you were right. Your older brother sets a fine example,” she replied, trying to make herself sound dignified.

Marisha teased, “You can say that ten times over. You’ve been eating him right up!”

“I do not ‘eat’ anyone, Marisha! And why are you even here, anyway?”

“It’s a figure of speech, geez… and I WAS going to spend time with my darling prince, buuut he said it was a bad time, so I-”

A knock on the door interrupted her. Ryan called, “Is that you, Big Brother?”

“Not quite,” answered the masked knight who opened it. His attention promptly fell on the twins, whom he showed a soft smile. “I pray I am not disturbing you, children.”

Jubelo and Yuliya were just as pleased to see him. “Not at all, sir. If you hadn’t intervened when you did, we’d be in deep trouble!”

Marisha had stars in her eyes. “Ooooooo! Look at you! So dashing, and yet so mysteeeerious!”

Ryan felt more uncomfortable than enthused. So tall… “Um, yeah. It’s great that you saved them, but… who are you, and where are you from?”

“Fair question, young man. I cannot tell you where I’m from, but I have a long history of aiding those in need. I am Sir Sirius, Knight of Mystery!” He raised and shook fanned-out hands for emphasis, a gesture that elicited a few giggles.

“Heehee! Dashing and a charmer! Will you be gracing us in the coming days?”

“Correct. I heard the full story from Prince Marth and Princess Caeda and our values align. This kingdom’s state already troubles me, and I hear Grust is far worse.”

Marisha nodded and shivered. “I-i-it’s really bad…”

Jubelo added, “As Yuliya would say, that’s putting it lightly… but if you don’t mind me asking, why help us? I-I’m not complaining, of course!”

“So you too find me suspicious. I suppose it’s to be expected,” he conceded. “Well Little Prince, my homeland has its own bandit problems, and after learning what havoc the Vikings raised I couldn’t leave them be. My lord also happens to have two children a few years younger than you. Seeing you in peril reminded me how our situation troubles them and gave me cause to act sooner than expected.”

“Uh huh…” There’s that nickname again.

“Will there be any other questions?”

“I’d like to know why you wear that mask,” Yuliya inquired.

“A friend of mine thought I might look good in it, and I’ve grown fond of it.”

She and Jubelo shared puzzled glances. “Okay…”

“Well, I think it makes him look haaaaand-some!” Marisha proclaimed.

“Haha, thank you lass… I’ll ask again. Is there something else you want to ask?”

“Not a question, it’s just… you seem familiar. Like someone we knew a few years ago.”

“I see… Prince Marth too expressed a similar sentiment during our discussion. That would also explain the weird looks I’ve been getting. Granted, a knight can never be too careful around someone with my anonymity… Sir Gordin stopped to voice his own suspicion when I passed him.”

“Did he?” Yuliya turned to Ryan and asked, “Hey Ryan. What was your brother going to do anyway?”

Ryan suggested, “I uh, think he wanted to check how this affects his senior knight duties. Draug and Cain also have more responsibilities than us juniors.”

She grabbed her Rescue staff with a clever smile. “Wanna find out? … Hey! Jubelo, let go!”

“Yuliya, no! That’d be rude!” he protested, grappling for it.

“Oh, don’t be a party pooper! Go for it, Princess! Do it!” Marisha encouraged.

Ryan nervously stuttered, “H-hey, uh, Princess Yuliya…”

“Might I ask what that staff does?”

The twins stopped fighting and looked at Sir Sirius. Yuliya gladly explained, “This is my Rescue staff! It lets me call a distant ally to my side, that’s how I was able to summon Prince Marth. I can also use it to survey my surroundings once I’m halfway through the incantation, and see and hear what’s going on!” She then resumed shoving and growled, “And it is my staff!”

So that’s why Big Brother’s so worried… “Um, Princess Yuliya? That’s great and all, but I don’t think he’ll be happy with you. He doesn’t like being eavesdropped on, and… neither do I.”

She relaxed. “Oh… I, guess we can wait until he comes back then.”

“Remember Yuliya, Master Wendell asked us not to misuse our magic. I’m not supposed to cast spells without supervision unless I have to, and you promised not to spy on people with your staff.”

“Well, there were a few times we made an excep-”

Jubelo gestured across the room to Ryan.

“…right. Only while unsupervised.” She set her staff down with a guilty look, although the disappointed whine to her left turned it into a grimace. “Knock it off Marisha! Nobody asked you!”

“I too would be more comfortable if you didn’t misuse it, Princess Yuliya,” Sirius added.

“True… I suppose I should respect your privacy after you saved our lives.” Even if I’d like to know who’s behind that mask…

Marisha pouted. “You two are no fun.”

“You are free to leave at ANY TIME, Marisha!” Yuliya stated.

“Huh? What’s going on?!”

All eyes turned to the door as Gordin rushed through the doorway.

“Why’s the door oh…” He stopped upon nearly crashing into Sirius. “…o-oh, it’s, you again.”

“Apologies, Sir Gordin. I wanted to check on the little prince and princess after this eventful day, and I thought they could use supervision in your absence. Forgive my intrusion.”

“He wasn’t bothering us! Honest!” Jubelo insisted, Yuliya and Marisha nodding in agreement.

“I guess it’s not too big a deal, but next time, ask before you walk in unannounced.”

“Understood. I’ll see myself out now before I cause you further disturbance.” He stepped out the door, and before fully shutting it bade, “Until next time.”

Ryan asked, “Big Brother, who is that guy?”

“I don’t know, but it seems like he’ll be joining us. There’s something off about him, though.”

“Yuliya and I find something about him familiar, but… we don’t know yet either.”

Yuliya insisted, “But he’s not bothering us. We’ll take his company over some other people here.”

“If you say so. We’ll be keeping an eye on him, though,” he replied, sitting back down next to Ryan. “So what did I miss? I heard you raising your voice, Princess.”

“Oh, that was just Marisha being her usual annoying self.” The other cleric quietly stuck out her tongue.

Ryan added, “Princess Yuliya also described her Rescue staff while he was here.”

“Ah, that. I forgot to mention… Princess, can I trust you not to use that behind our backs? Prince Marth and Sir Jagen wouldn’t appreciate you eavesdropping on others, and neither would I.”

“We actually just discussed that, and I… I, thought about using it to see what you were up to, sir,” she nervously confessed. “But then Jubelo reminded me about our vow back at Khadein, and we agreed it would be impolite after Prince Marth saved us. So I’ll extend that promise to your band, sir.”

Gordin smiled. “Thanks, Princess. I’m glad we can count on you to be well-behaved!”

“Of course, Sir Gordin!” She beamed and started giggling. Heehee! He thinks I’m well-behaved!

Marisha raised an eyebrow to her bubbliness before glancing across to Prince Jubelo, who gave her a similar stare. What’s with her?

Sir Sirius – Knight of Mystery

Little is known about this masked knight. He claims to be a traveler from parts afar, but where? His motives are a greater mystery: why was he among the Macedon Vikings, and why does he continue to follow Prince Marth’s lead? He seems to have an interest in the Prince and Princess of Grust, but that only arouses further suspicion.

Behind closed doors, many note his similarities to Grust’s former Crown General, Camus. His defeat at the hands of the Archanean League sent him tumbling into nearby river rapids, and he was washed away along with Gradivus. The lance was recently recovered – Dames Palla and Catria of Macedon brought it back after an unexpected adventure in neighboring Valentia – but no one believes he could have survived such a perilous voyage.

Regardless, this expedition has been too hectic to broach the question now, and they’re content to have his skill at arms on hand. As long as he doesn’t overtly cause trouble, he’s welcome to stay. For what it’s worth, Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya seem to enjoy his presence.

Chapter Text

The Altean army spent one night at the stronghold before boarding their ship and setting sail for Grust. Despite conflicted feelings about leaving Macedon in its current state and Hardin’s sudden betrayal, Prince Marth promised the twins he would liberate their kingdom first. After witnessing the chaos General Lang caused and being misled he would not let that villain go… his stance, however, left them confused. He still believed Lang had gone rogue and acted independently of Emperor Hardin, despite all signs and even Princess Caeda’s word. It gave them something think about… on top of everything else their new company offered.

Kris wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Wow, Prince Jubelo… I already wanted to shove a sword through Lang, but after hearing your story? One sword isn’t enough!”

“You said it! How about five swords? Or ten? Or maybe you could stick one in every-”

“Uh, Cecil?”

“What? I was just getting start… oh.” The overeager knight paused when Ryan pointed to the prince’s disgusted shivering. “I guess we can leave it at that… sorry Prince, I’m done.”

“Thank you… I-I don’t like violence much. At all.”

“Well if all goes according to plan, you’ll be back home soon! Prince Marth says we’re taking you back to Grust and making if safe for you,” Ryan promised.

“Yeah, relax Yube! Just kick back and let- ow!”

Marisha pulled her staff back and scolded, “Show some respect! Jubelo is a prince too!”

Roderick added, “And don’t call him Yube. That sounds ridiculous… I hope you can forgive my friend, Prince. Luke’s brash and a bit of an idiot, but his heart is in the right place… usually.”

“It’s okay. You can just call me Jubelo if you want, I don’t mind… but, uh, not Yube.”

“You sure? Just Jubelo’s fine?” He nodded. Ryan then asked, “What about when Yuliya’s around?”

“Oh no, only when she isn’t. Yuliya will get mad if you drop formalities around her.”

“You’re telling me. When she was leaving you with us, she looked like she was trying her best Jagen impression. Like we were in a heap of trouble,” Luke remarked.

Kris slyly retorted, “Well, someone here does like treading on thin ice. Hollered like a puppy when his toes broke through once, too.” Luke grimaced at her while most of their companions snickered, with Cecil giving her an air high-five.

Jubelo had a more pensive look. “Well, that’s how she normally acts around strangers… what I don’t get is what’s so different this time. It’s not like her to leave me with people we just met yesterday. Usually it takes a few days to warm up to new faces, at best. But with you and you brother,” he said, gesturing to Ryan on his right. “No, especially with your brother!”

Kris suggested, “Well, maybe your experiences with others helped her warm up faster? Like your time with Princess Caeda, Lord Wendell, and even Sir Ogma.”

“Yeah, and you know what I told you about Big Brother. He’s always been great with children!”

He shook his head. “Ryan, I know my sister. Master Wendell is great with children and it took days before she would even smile around him! She starting smiling around you guys the same day! That knight I can sort of understand, but you two? It’s unbelievable!”

“Whoa, calm down! That’s not a bad thing, is it?” Cecil wondered.

“No, it’s not! It’s better than her yelling and glaring at everyone… and, your brother’s very nice, Ryan. He’s a good guy, and I appreciate him sticking up for me.” The prince stared down at his lap. “I just… I don’t understand why she listens to him so easily.”

“Well, I’m not complaining if he keeps her happy for a while!” Marisha commented.

“Mhm, I already said that… but why are you here, Marisha?”

“Oh, your dashing Royal Guard thought my talents would better serve my darling Prince Marth alongside us. So, she made me an honorary member of the 7th Platoon!”

“That’s right. And we’re, um, happy to have your talents,” Kris replied awkwardly.

“Oh Kris, you’re too kind! And don’t worry, I’ll try not to outshine you all… but, hehehe, that might be a little difficult.” She then dreamily clasped her hands, lowered her eyelids and began swooning. “Ah, just thinking of what he’ll say when he sees not a scratch on you! Oh Marisha, you mend my wounded heart! Thinking of how ro-MAN-tic it’ll sound from him sends my heart aflutter!”

Jubelo scratched his head in confusion. “Oookay?”

Ryan explained in a whisper, “In other words, we’re trying to keep her out of Prince Marth’s hair.” Looking around the room yielded similar reactions; Luke mouthed “she’s craaazyyyyy” while the cleric was too lovestruck to notice, and Roderick reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“Well, I can say he’s more sensible than someone in this room.” Luke’s quip earned him a few grins, as well as a cleric sticking out her tongue. “But you know, your brother couldn’t have been more right earlier, Ryan. About what a piece of shit Lang-”

“LUKE!” the entire platoon shouted in unison, with Ryan hastily adding, “Language!”

He rolled his eyes, propped his elbow on the table and leaned on his fist. “Fine, I was just saying. Gotta make me look like the bad guy here?”

“Speaking of sensible…” Roderick mumbled sarcastically.

Jubelo asked, “Huh? Your brother knew about General Lang, Ryan?”

“I uh, think he heard it from a merchant…” Dangit, Luke!

“A merchant? But Grust has been under lockdown for over a year.”

“I-it might have been a merchant from Archanea.”

“Altea receives merchants from all corners of the continent. We’ve seen the flags of Archanea, Macedon, Gr-aah, Talys, and even one or two I couldn’t identify moored at the marketplace,” Kris described, trying to reinforce his alibi. “And I remember him getting excited about a new archery book, right Ryan?”

“Oh yeah, totally! He was very excited! It came out in… last May!”

“…Okay…” Jubelo wasn’t sure he believed their story, though. But how did a merchant learn-

“Sir Gordin says his release was unpopular in Archanea. General Lang was a traitor to his kingdom before Emperor Hardin appointed him to Grust. Lady Linde spoke unfavorably of him too… in fact, their confrontation in Macedon was what finally broke Marth’s patience,” she continued.

“…Really?”

“Do you remember when I said we stood up for a mage before we came to rescue you? That was her.”

“Oh yeah, that was great! First Kris came between ‘em with a sword drawn, then Gordin bounces an arrow off him, and then Sir Draug sized him up!” Cecil recounted with glee. “And we were all eager to take a chunk out of him when Prince Marth gave the word! Linde even blasted him with Thunder before Sir Jagen sent him packing!”

“Did she?” The prince tapped his finger to his chin, deep in thought.

“What’s wrong, Jubelo?”

“Nothing Ryan, I’m just… thinking about what you and Dame Kris said. And about yesterday… I was scared when she showed up, but… she didn’t seem all that dangerous.”

Luke nonchalantly commented, “Well, she can be pretty cold, I’ll tell you that.”

“Says the most charming, dashing and virile lady-killer in our ranks,” Roderick quipped.

“Hey now, I wasn’t the one who blew me off for trying to be friendly!”

“Luke, she sat down right between Draug and my brother because you kept bugging her! Cecil had to help him catch you and haul you to Sir Jagen!” Ryan corrected.

“Huh? She was sitting with your brother, too?”

“Hm? Yeah, and they started talking about things… I think one of them was me. They were pointing in my direction early in the conversation.” He lowered his head bashfully, recalling how nervous it made him. “I don’t know what they were talking about afterwards, or when Draug came back.”

Jubelo suggested, “Merric, maybe? He’s the one who introduced her, and he’s from Altea.”

“Merric? Oh yeah, he’s friends with my brother too! They talked sometimes during the last war. But I don’t think he interacted much with her.”

“Prince Marth, Princess Caeda and their knights might know her from the last war, but we only met her just recently. I spoke with her a few times, and she seems… sheltered, a bit naïve, but that’s the worst I can say about her. She seems to be firmly on our side, Prince Marth trusts her, and I’m willing to trust her after she chewed out General Lang,” Kris said. With a scowl, she added, “I trust her more than that ‘Knight of Mystery,’ at least.”

Jubelo raised an eyebrow. “Hm? You don’t like… never mind, this isn’t about him.”

“Then I take it you’re starting to warm up to her, Prince?”

“Not warming up, but… I’m starting to think Yuliya and I were wrong. That Linde isn’t a bad person after all… d-don’t tell her I said that. My sister, I mean.”

“Yeah, from what I’ve seen she’s not that different from the other girls here. Aside from the frivolous fashion sense, of course… and the huge beams of light she can summon down on her enemies. You gotta see it, they’re like WHOOSH! …oh.” Marisha fell quiet and sat back down when she saw the prince’s wide-eyed stare, along with Kris and Ryan’s disapproving glares. “Uh, sorry about that Prince…”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t foresee her turning that magic on us,” Kris assured.

“In your defense, you’re not that clueless,” Roderick murmured to Luke, who grinned proudly.

Draug returned from storage after several minutes and joined his companion at the table. “Okay, weapon appraisal is done. Here’s all the swords and their current condition.”

Gordin accepted the sheet and laid it on a plank before grabbing the quill. “Thanks. I think I’ll go through this first, swords are always the worst. Let’s see, the current market price for an iron swords is…” While recalling the value he glanced to his right and said, “Princess Yuliya, you’re welcome to join Prince Jubelo and Ryan with the 7th Platoon. This stuff’s pretty boring.”

“I sat through more mind-numbing study sessions at Khadein. Unless I say otherwise, I’m fine.”

“…Suit yourself.”

Yuliya tilted her head slightly to see what was on his plank. He had a list containing every sword the expedition had in stock, each with a single word describing its condition… new, good, fair, worn, broken. Going down the list he was writing a number corresponding to its descriptor, with “new” having the highest values. A few papers on the side held similar tallies for other weapon families, with the top sheet being a half-finished record on lances and bows. “So if I’m understanding this correctly, you’re trying to figure out everything’s worth?”

“That’s right. It helps us decide what should be repaired first, or how much we can trade it in for.”

She grabbed the top sheet to examine it more closely. The gaps between descriptor values surprised her. “Why is ‘good’ nearly half of ‘new’ sells for?”

“It’s better to err on the side of pessimism when estimating weapon value. Most merchants will mark down heavily for any signs of use,” Draug explained.

“That and the best we can do is estimate, and even if we were experts it would be time-consuming to get exact values…” He glanced over a moment and requested, “Oh, and please don’t write on that Princess, I still need to finish that.”

“I was just looking, sir. I won’t mess with what’s written.”

Draug smirked. “You know, this reminds me of when Princess Maria followed us around.”

Yuliya gasped excitedly. “Oh, I remember! She said you and Sir Draug looked after her one time!”

Gordin’s writing slowed. “Hm? Yeah, Princess Minerva left her with us when she was on the frontlines, sometimes on the edge of battle and other times back at camp.”

“Half our advances moved too quickly for me to keep up, and Gordin was rarely on the frontline. So it was convenient for her to contribute without-”

“I think she said she related to you the most, but I didn’t catch why.”

Draug chuckled sheepishly. “Aha, I see you have similar preferences, Princess Yuliya.”

Gordin set down his plank and replied, “Well, she was upset that others didn’t take her seriously due to her age, even her own siblings. As the youngest senior knight by a few years I still feel it… by the way, can we finish here? Draug’s working on our general budget and we do best when it’s quiet.”

“Okay. I’ll be quiet, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Yuliya continued to observe in silence when he resumed running the numbers; Draug also shifted his attention to his own plank. She occupied herself by looking at the other sheets… at the bottom of the lance and bow list she noticed a stub section for axes. Beneath it was a sheet containing tomes, staffs and non-combat items, and it was here that she found her Rescue staff at the bottom. There were no numbers yet, but her staff had an “X” next to it, as did a tome called Aura. Reading it made her uncomfortable… she only had a rough idea who it might belong to, but she didn’t like it.

Peeking back at Gordin’s plank surprised her, as when she looked away he had only listed a few scattered values. Now it was almost completely filled out, and his quill darted from item to item as if everything had already fallen into place. About a minute later he was handing it to Draug. “Swords are done.”

“How did you finish so fast?”

“Once you get a feel for the numbers, it becomes a lot simpler. The trick is figuring out the patterns.”

“When Gordin started helping me, he was a lot slower. But after he learned a few tricks from-” Draug abruptly paused at a light kick to his ankle. “…I’m sorry, what was it again?”

“I picked up a book on numbers while we were in Port Warren. It took a little while to understand, but around when we freed Archanea’s palace was when I got the hang of it… oh and, can I see that sheet again? I think I messed up one or two values.”

“Um, sure.”

Gordin placed the sheet back on his plank, angled it such that the princess couldn’t peek and muttered, “Ah, here it is.” He quickly scribbled in a correction, underlined it and handed the paper back. “Here. Everything should be correct now.”

Draug accepted it and replied, “Ah, I see… thank you for catching that.” It didn’t contain any corrections but there was a short message directed at him:

Watch it.

Yuliya handed him the sheet with magic and asked, “Sir Gordin, why is my staff marked with an X?”

“Let me answer that with my own question: would you permit us to sell it?”

“Absolutely not!”

“That’s what I expected. You see Princess, we need to keep track of our assets but there are some we can’t put a price on.” He pointed up the list and added, “Linde’s Aura tome is also-”

“Is that the spell that summons huge pillars of light?” He nodded. “Does she have it right now?” Yuliya looked livid when he nodded a second time. “You’re letting her keep it!?”

“It’s her tome. It’s the last memento of her late father. She’d be heartbroken if anyone took it.”

“So?! Do you realize what damage she could cause with it?”

Draug replied, “Lady Linde has always shown great restraint with her magic.”

“Yeah, for how long! What happens when she decides to show her true colors? She could kill us!”

Gordin was starting to lose his patience. “Princess, Linde is not aligned with-”

“How do you know!? You’ve seen what Archanea has been doing in Grust, and she’s close with their crown! She should be locked up far away from any tome, not walking free among our… hell, why is she even here!?” She jumped out of her chair and shouted, “We should have ditched her while in Macedon! Or, just throw her overboard! Then she would never harm another-”

WHAP. “Princess, enough.”

The plank clapping hard against the table startled her into silence, and Gordin’s firm tone took the fire out of her stove. She sat back down apprehensively, only breaking from his strict glare once to peek at Draug, who looked similarly concerned.

He took a sigh to calm himself and stated, “Princess Yuliya, we heard you the first several times. You don’t like Linde for what her kingdom has been doing to yours. No one blames you or your brother, and I’ve been wary of her too.”

“…Then, why…?”

“Because she was our ally during the last war, and Empress Nyna sent her to warn us about the strike on Altea. Prince Marth trusts that they aren’t on the same side as the Emperor, especially after that came to pass,” he explained. “He has the final say in who stays and who goes. You and Prince Jubelo may not like it, but as our guests, I’m afraid you’ll have to tolerate her being around unless Prince Marth and Princess Caeda change their minds.”

She folded her hands in her lap and lowered her chin. “Oh… I, see…” Even Caeda is willing to keep her? It was a harsh reminder of how powerless she and Jubelo were, unable to control their surroundings despite being royalty. A gentle tap on her shoulder brought her eyes back up, where Sir Gordin met them with his own worried look.

“I know, you’re scared something bad might happen to you. You aren’t alone. But I promise that when Prince Marth said he’d ensure your safety, he meant it. Nobody is going to hurt you or your brother.” He then smiled and added, “Besides, think of everyone around you! Ogma, Altea’s knights and two of Macedon’s Whitewings are on board this ship. Heck, I bet Sir Jagen could rattle those old bones back into action! You should’ve seen the scare he gave General Lang when we revolted!”

That comment about his “old bones” made her crack a smile. “Really?”

“Absolutely. General Lang’s indignity brought out a fury I haven’t seen in years! Linde was there too, and I imagine it’ll make her think twice about betraying us,” Draug assured.

“It’s as they say, Yuliya. If Linde turns hostile, she won’t get far.”

All three turned toward the doorway, where Caeda stood with a confident smile. “Oh, thank you Princess Caeda! But are you really comfortable having someone so close to Archanea’s crown around?”

“I get why you’re worried, but based on what Marth and Sir Jagen tell me she means us no harm.” With a wink she mentioned, “In fact, I think she’s more afraid of me than I am of her.”

Yuliya gasped in awe. “Really? You mean that!?”

“Of course! I’m sharing a cabin with her, so I’ll keep a closer eye than anybody else.”

“Oh, that’s… um…” She started to look concerned again.

“It’s fine. Linde hasn’t touched her tomes since we boarded and is busy wallowing in seasickness. I’ll be amazed if she can even stomach reading.”

“If you say so… but if you ever need another pair of eyes…”

“If I need your talents I’ll ask. Until then, I ask that you respect everyone’s privacy, even hers.”

She waited for an answer, but Yuliya didn’t say anything. I better remind her just to be on the safe side… “I’ll take your lack of objection as a yes. Now then, Draug? If you could update me on your progress.”

“Certainly, Princess Caeda. It’s…” He paused when she started walking back into the hallway, motioning to him. “…I’ll be right there.”

Before leaving, he folded the tally sheet and slipped it under his pauldron in case she wanted evidence… and to keep it away from wandering hands. Caeda led him past several cabin doors before stopping and putting a finger to her lips. He murmured, “If you could give us another half-hour…”

“Take your time, we’re in no rush. What I really want to know about is our guest.”

“Aha… Princess Yuliya has been content under Gordin’s watch since we set off this morning. There have been a few upsets but he’s been able to calm her down.”

“Has she heard about his ties to you-know-who?”

“From my observations, she doesn’t suspect a thing. Although there was a close call recently…” He frowned guiltily when Caeda sighed and shook her head. “A-apologies, Your Highness…”

“Well, be careful. This is going better than expected but it’s still a delicate situation, and I don’t want it falling apart because of a simple gaffe.”

“Me neither… I take it this isn’t normal for her?”

“Yuliya was always wary around strangers and is fiercely protective of her brother. It’s unprecedented for her to leave him with anyone but me or Ogma this soon… never mind her being so tame.”

“Like I said, there are a few short-lived outbursts. Gordin is trying to keep her comfortable but has been firm with her whenever she starts acting out.”

Caeda’s eyes widened slightly. “He’s disciplining her?”

“Just enough to pacify her. He doesn’t want her misbehaving and while he isn’t pushing back hard, he says he will not reinforce her hatred toward Archanea. For now, it seems to be working.”

Huh. Maybe Ogma had the right idea… “If he can improve her attitude then all the better. Just keep an eye on them in case things become too heated. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“I don’t know if the Princess will listen to me, but I’ll pull Gordin aside if I have to.”

“Thank you, then we’re done here. Let me walk you back in.”

All was quiet while they returned to the cabin, where Yuliya was peeking at a sheet of paper that Gordin scrawled on. She looked up amicably when Caeda opened the door. “Ah, you’re back, Princess Caeda! Sir Gordin is showing me how he handles finances!”

“I see that! Keep it up and it might come in handy when leading Grust. Or earlier if Gordin and Draug need assistance,” she suggested.

“That’s the plan! I also want to teach Jubelo after I understand this… it might take some practice. But I mastered the staff at Khadein, and with a capable teacher I’ll master this.”

“I’m sure you will, Yuliya… Gordin, I can’t thank you enough for stepping up for her and Prince Jubelo. You and Ryan have been a boon in helping them fit in.”

“Of course, Princess Caeda. Will there be there anything else?”

“Not right now. Draug told me all I needed to hear.” Turning towards the exit she bade, “As you were, gentlemen… and princess.”

While Draug sat back down, Gordin picked up his quill and instructed, “Now, see how we just calculated the value for a fair iron lance. With that fresh in our minds, we go down the list…”

Caeda lingered a moment before shutting the door to appreciate how tranquil Yuliya looked. It was a stark contrast to how she usually acted, trying to play grownup and compensate for her timid twin. She seemed more like a child for once – curious, friendly, giving someone else her full attention. And Jubelo fell in with Ryan, Kris and the 7th Platoon pretty quickly. There must have been dozens of moments like this while they stayed at Khadein, but this was the first time Caeda saw it with her own eyes. Even in the absence of Master Wendell and General Lorenz, they found good substitutes.

But how long would it last? She began to worry upon remembering what Draug said about their stances on Archanea. They’ll have to come to terms with it eventually, but will they be ready? Will SHE be ready? That’s what frightened her the most… and if General Jeorge was where Ogma said, it might be too soon.

Sir Ryan – Aspiring Aim

Small and timid like his brother, young Sir Ryan grew up in the safety of Gordin’s shadow. He could always count on him to stand up to bullies, and even their parents when they pressured him over his timidity. News of Altea’s fall hit him hard, but he held out hope that his brother might one day return… sure enough, he came among Altea’s knights three years later, stronger and prouder than ever before!

Things have changed since he was last home, though. His brother is busier than ever, and like their parents stresses that Ryan learn to stand on his own. That isn’t a problem, as he’s eager to follow in Gordin’s footsteps and understands he can’t live in his shadow forever. As a junior knight in the 7th Platoon he already shows promise with a bow, with his peers saying he’s catching up to Gordin fast… Ryan’s not so sure about that. But more importantly, he’s made several new friends in his platoon, and it’s been helping him crawl out of his shell.

Besides coming into his own, Ryan’s been looking to repay his brother for being so supportive his whole life. So he’s glad to help him watch the twins in his unexpected assignment. With Prince Jubelo’s own history of living in his sister’s shadow, it’s no surprise the two became fast friends.

Sir Gordin – Promising Shot

Sir Gordin has always known what it’s like to be the underdog. Small stature and a meek personality saw him picked on since childhood, pushing him to stand up for himself from an early age. The confidence he’d built up was dashed when Gra invaded, separating him from his family for three long and arduous years. Being stuck with peers a few years and a head over him didn’t help, nor did poor training. But an unlikely apprenticeship and a recent growth spurt are turning that around, and now he’s finally seeing the respect he’s longed for! Right?

Not exactly. Despite being Prince Marth’s age he looks a few years younger, so he’s still his peers’ “little buddy.” His friendliness and thoughtful ears have made him popular among children and new recruits, but he longs to be seen more as a man. It’s left him in an awkward position where he doesn’t feel at home within the senior knights yet wants to avoid being associated with his juniors.

Gordin’s responsibilities have grown in recent months, and he’s risen to them diligently… being made the twins’ new caretaker wasn’t his idea, though. Still, things could be worse; Princess Yuliya seems to have warmed right up to him! He’s not complaining given her ambivalence towards everyone else.

Chapter Text

After fleeing Olbern in terror weeks ago, it was cathartic to march on it unimpeded; most passing soldiers fled at the sight of Marth’s forces. It took the expedition little more than a week to bring them home. A handful of small, remote settlements lucky enough to evade pillaging cheered him on, and this strengthened their lieges’ desire to have a hand in Lang’s downfall. Initially most of their companions were skeptical, with Sir Sirius and Princess Caeda expressing the strongest concern. But Ogma thought otherwise; “These kids have seen their kingdom burn and people die in front of them, and they’re sick of feeling helpless. Let them join the fight to set things right.” His words gradually dissuaded their detractors, and by the time they set up camp Prince Marth had permitted them to participate.

It was especially encouraging for Jubelo that Ogma put his faith in them. Wanting to make the most of it, the prince studied rigorously to understand the Shaver spell in time. Luckily it appeared to be a simple spell, many of its passages resembling material from Merric’s lectures. Prince Marth said it was his to use if he wanted, and in a few days he grew confident in conjuring it.

Gather and cut clean… He mentally recited the incantation and gently whirled his free hand. A brisk ribbon of wind wrapping around it indicated the spell’s responsiveness. I think I got it. He looked to his left and said, “All right Yuliya, I’m ready.”

“Huh?” She tilted her head right and replied, “Oh, right. The spell Master Wendell left.”

“Yeah. It’s not too complicated and the wind is responding to me. I think I’m ready try it out.”

“Great! Then let’s…” She looked back toward the center of the clearing, where the two archers were practicing. “…can it wait until they finish?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

Gordin and Ryan stood side by side, emptying their quivers into their respective targets – wooden discs divided into five sections by two painted rings. Arlen and Merric practiced on similar props at Khadein and invited Jubelo to take a few shots, although theirs were made of stone. All their arrows landed in the two middlemost sections. Between volleys he peeked at his sister, who focused on them without a hint of impatience. While a pleasant departure from her usual haste, it was puzzling to see.

Gordin examined their targets more closely after Ryan finished. “Not bad, Ryan! Your spread’s gotten a lot tighter in the past few months!”

“Thanks Big Brother, but I think I can do better. I couldn’t hit the bullseye like you…”

Yuliya spoke up, “Um, actually, Ryan! I think some of your arrows landed in the middle.”

“Actually, the bullseye is in the center of that. None of my shots quite hit it.”

“Huh?” She rolled to her feet, approached the target and observed more closely. Within the rings were finer lines that she couldn’t distinguish from her seat. “Oh, I see now.”

“It’s okay if you aren’t hitting the bullseye when your aim’s consistent enough around it. Look at my target and you’ll only see I hit it once… twice, if you count that one on the line,” Gordin explained, pointing to his results. “In a real battle anything within the center circle should hit its mark. So would the others depending on where you aimed.”

“So it isn’t all about lining up the perfect shot?”

“Ideally it is, but as a wise marksman once said, you can’t always make perfection. When you have the goal in mind though, then you’ll know where to aim.”

She nodded. “I understand…”

Jubelo announced, “Anyway… if you’re done, I’d like to try casting this spell, sir.”

“Yes, that’s what I came here to say. Can Jubelo use one of your targets?”

“Sure. Just give me a minute.”

Gordin turned around and started plucking the arrows from his target, just as Ryan was wrapping up his. Once both were clear he inspected them side by side before placing his hand on Ryan’s. “Let’s save this one for another day. Ryan, can you pack it up?”

“Sure, Big Brother.”

As Ryan folded up the better target’s legs, he relocated his two paces to the left, away from a tree. “Okay Prince Jubelo. Take your position and wait until everyone is behind you.”

Jubelo nodded and walked to the spot they practiced from. Yuliya parked slightly behind him to his left, arms crossed with an expectant look. The brothers strolled to his right, Gordin giving a thumbs up to signal he was all clear. He took a deep breath, opened the tome and skimmed its text… he wanted to focus but all the attention unnerved him. Just do what Merric taught you, Jubelo: focus on the wind. Focus on the elements… “O whistling wind…”

Air began rushing around his free hand. It was tame for a split second but quickly became turbulent, and its vicious whirling disturbed his concentration.

“Gather and… cut, clean… …Sh, Shave- wh-whoa!!”

The wind stretching into a razor-sharp arc startled him, and it launched forward before he could regain composure. It missed the target completely and sliced off a tree’s lower branch. A few birds and a squirrel scattered as sticks and leaves fell to the forest floor.

Yuliya grimaced in disappointment. “Jubelo, what was that sad display?”

“Princess, go easy on him. That was his first attempt and we didn’t know what would happen.” Gordin then struck a more optimistic tone asking, “What do you say, Prince? One more try?”

“Y-yeah. One more try. I-I’ll get it right this time, Sister! I promise!”

Her expression remained stern. “Show me.”

Right… I’ll show her. I have to! The prince took a moment to recompose himself. He reviewed the spell’s text and faced the target again, closing his eyes as the wind began to blow. Merric said the wind is my friend… make it your friend, Jubelo. Don’t let it cow you!

“O whistling wind, gather and cut clean… Shaver!”

This time he knew what to expect, and while the gathering gust made him jitter he held steady enough to guide the blade. It flew straighter than an arrow, shaving off the upper-right corner as it passed through the third ring, narrowly missing the fourth. Satisfaction helped calm his strained nerves, as did light clapping from the brothers to his right.

“See? Sometimes all it takes is another go to get a good result!”

Yuliya concurred, “Yes, it was a marked improvement… but you can do better.”

“I think that was fine for his second try. When I started out most of my shots didn’t even hit the target… and it was twice the size of that,” Ryan recalled.

Gordin nodded. “Like I said before. If you were aiming for someone’s body that would leave a serious injury unless they’re resistant to magic.”

“Uh, y-y-yeah. That looks like it could… t-take an arm off or something.” He shut the tome and nervously continued, “I-I think I’ll save this as a last resort, until I master it better!”

“Well, you better hold onto it so that the other mage doesn’t find it.”

“Easy. Prince Marth said it’s his if he wants it… say, Prince Jubelo. That spell looked a lot like Merric’s Excalibur, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.”

“I think he helped make it, actually… his name and Master Wendell’s are on the first page.”

“Really?” Gordin tapped his chin. “I remember him saying he wanted to make his magic more accessible. Something to give junior mages a taste of what it can do. Maybe that was his solution?”

“Maybe.” Yuliya held out her hand and inspected the tome’s text after receiving it. “It doesn’t look as prestigious as Excalibur. Or all that powerful… they say Merric’s spell rivals Archanea’s Regalia.”

“Excuse me? Are you there, Sir Gordin?”

Kris weaved around a tree and into the clearing a second later. Gordin answered, “I’m here, Kris. Me and Ryan were getting some last-minute practice before we attack.”

“Ah, good! Well… Prince Marth asks for your counsel. Our scouts reported a platoon of snipers encamped in the woods northeast, around the highlands near Olbern.”

He felt a pit in his stomach. Shoot, he is here… “All right, lead the way. Ryan, can you finish cleaning up? I think practice is over for today.”

Jubelo accepted Shaver back from his sister and the twins began trailing their ward. Gordin and Kris soon realized they were being followed, and after a hushed back-and-forth stopped to address them. “Prince, Princess, you don’t have to be in attendance. You can stay with Ryan,” Gordin said.

“Grust is our home, and as its prince and princess we are most invested in its liberation. We shall attend the war council too,” Yuliya insisted.

“But…” Kris paused when Gordin raised his palm. He knew they weren’t going to give; Yuliya’s expression already sharpened at the hint of objection, and while Jubelo stayed silent he looked equally adamant. “…as you wish, Princess Yuliya.”

In more peaceful times the territory of Olbern was beautiful. Dense forests gave way to meadows around the lake’s east shore, rising northward in a gentle slope alongside a mountainous gully. Water from the river up north emptied into a natural reservoir that spilled into a mighty waterfall, fueling the lake that fortified its castle’s more open approach. ‘Twas a shame General Lang’s occupation besmirched its good name… what was once a proud and reliable bastion now hosted the kingdom’s destroyers. Under his oppressive rule Grust’s people gave it a more sinister moniker: the Nest of Vice.

Seeing the castle’s battlements rose in the west left the twins with a mix of unease and anger. Dame Kris spoke of multiple ballistae stationed on the grounds and impact damage in the middle of the bridge, although the structure was still serviceable. They knew this all too well, having fled for their lives the night that bridge sustained its damage… this time, they weren’t running away.

The expedition’s leadership was assembled before an outcrop of forest. They appeared surprised when the group approached, with Arran silently walking away. “Oh, Gordin! Thank you for coming… and I see you brought the Prince and Princess,” Marth greeted.

Caeda strolled up to Kris, pulled her aside and quietly hissed, “What are THEY doing here?”

“A-apologies, Princess Caeda. Princess Yuliya insisted they be in attendance… vehemently.”

She turned around so they didn’t catch her pinching her brow and letting out a seething sigh. I sure hope Gordin knows what he’s doing.

“You called, sire? Kris said there was a group of snipers camped in the north.”

“Correct. Marisha says Sister Lena’s grandfather moved to a village in the northwest, and Prince Marth wishes to check up on him. However, General Jeorge of Archanea is stationed in the highlands with a platoon of snipers…” Jagen explained. “…and as Altea’s foremost authority on archery, we thought best to seek your counsel on whether a bypass is possible.”

Of course. The one time I don’t want him around… He took a moment to carefully consider his words. “It might be doable… it’s risky when they have the high ground, but in the right position they may not…” He paused when he noticed Yuliya meditating over her staff. “Princess Yuliya, what are you doing?”

She opened her eyes and answered, “I was just checking, sir. They are there, at the edge of the forest. Practically in plain sight, too.”

“Plain sight? … Well, thanks for trying to help, but I need an old-fashioned view.”

“Say no more. Asbard can bring you to the treetops,” Caeda offered as he was turning toward her.

Gordin accepted a telescope from Jagen, and after she helped him into the saddle they ascended to canopy level and hovered. Everyone on the ground waited in anticipation… while Jubelo watched, Yuliya couldn’t help checking with her staff again. Kris tapped her shoulder but she shoved the hand away and continued humming the spell. The tense silence gave her a chance to observe more thoroughly, and she saw additional garrisons; dracoknights above the mountains, cavalry to the southwest and the north. Honing in on the Menedy platoon next, she picked up dialogue:

“General Jeorge! It’s that pegasus again, poking just above the treetops.”

“Ignore it. As long as Altea keeps their distance, we won’t pursue.”

Won’t pursue? Why not? She lowered her staff confused. Until now all the Archanean soldiers were at their throats… as she contemplated it, Gordin and Caeda returned to the ground.

“Well, they’re there. Right at the wood’s edge, like Princess Yuliya said,” he announced while climbing down the pegasus’s flank. “High ground or not, they’re a good distance from the mountainside. We should be out of their range unless they move out if we stay close.”

“Actually sir, there’s a flock of dracoknights patrolling the skies above the western mountains.”

“Huh?” He remembered her staff and admonished, “Princess Yuliya…”

“Let her look! This is our home!”

Jubelo’s protest delighted Yuliya as much as it surprised everyone else. She quickly added, “Yeah, I can get a better view than any pegasus! Didn’t Sister Lena offer you the same aid with her Warp magic?”

“Well, um… yes, she did,” Marth admitted.

“Then let me do the same with Rescue. For instance, I saw those dracoknights… you’ll need to dispose of them first, or they’ll swoop down on whoever makes it past the snipers.”

“Perhaps Dames Palla and Catria and lure them away, towards our archers,” Jagen suggested.

“Well, then you’ll need to avoid the ballistae surrounding Olbern Castle,” Jubelo warned.

He scratched his chin. “That makes this trickier… I’ll ask again. Sir Gordin, do you believe we can make it past General Jeorge’s men?”

“He said… uuumm…”

Gordin was about to respond until the princess spoke up. She became nervous under everyone’s tense gaze. “…he, I, I was able to hear him talking.”

Marth and company were holding their breaths.

“For some reason, he said they won’t pursue unless we come close… but why wouldn’t he? He must be part of General Lang’s defenses, and until now none of Archanea’s soldiers would leave us alone!” Her pondering gave rise to paranoia. “What if it’s a trick? They know we’re here, and we heard the Menedy are a house of snakes! How do we know it’s not a ploy to lead us onto a shooting range?”

Yuliya’s words hit Gordin the hardest. His heart started pounding when she interrupted him, and everyone looking towards him for a response made it worse. Still, he had to say something after Jagen put him up to it… “…W-well, look at it this way. General Jeorge’s platoon has a great defensive position… but at that range their arrows lose most of their power, if they can fly that far to begin with. They’ll have to come closer if they want a clean shot, and that exposes them to our more mobile fighters-”

“Like Sir Sirius and the 7th Platoon cavalry. I think I get it, sir.”

“But why would he stand there, out in the open like that?” Jubelo asked.

He had to pause briefly to concoct another explanation. “You heard what your sister said. General Jeorge is smart – he knows such an attack would be disastrous if it fails. Even with the element of surprise it’s no guarantee. He’s probably trying to scare us into not coming after him. In fact, if we keep enough eyes on him, we might stop him in his tracks altogether!”

Yuliya nodded. “You make a good point… but if he’s so scared of us, why not chase him off now?”

“Because then they’ll just duck into the woods and pepper us with arrows.”

“Oh. Right…”

Jubelo wondered, “How do you know it’ll work out, Sir Gordin?”

He blinked. “Well… I can’t say for sure, but… it’s, something you learn from experience. Archers know archers better than anybody else, and if I wanted to mount an attack I wouldn’t stand out in the open. I’d find a better vantage point than that or an armored partner to cover me.”

The twins shared a quizzical glance before Yuliya looked back at him with a smile. “Huh. You must be a master archer if you can figure out a Menedy like that!”

He chuckled to relieve stress. “Hahaha, you’re too kind, Princess! I-I wouldn’t call myself a master just yet, buuut, I think I know what I’m doing!”

Caeda sighed. At least I can count on YOU not to screw things up. Marth, Jagen and Kris felt a similar sense of relief now that the twins received a satisfying answer.

“Still, there’s one more thing…”

Everyone tensed up again as the princess revealed another question.

“What if someone tries to undermine our formation from the inside? You know, like a certain mage with powerful magic and close ties to Archanea?”

Marth answered, “You don’t need to worry about that. Linde will be with the group attacking the keep.”

“What!? But, but that’s where we’ll be!”

“Lady Linde indeed has powerful magic, and Archanean noblemen favor heavy armor in their guard. It would be a waste of talent not to deploy her there,” Jagen explained.

“Well, that’s even worse! What if she turns on us when she gets a chance, or, or…”

Gordin assured, “Princess, you and Prince Jubelo will have plenty of protection. Sir Jagen will oversee the initial push, joined by Prince Marth when you storm the castle, and you’ll have Ogma, Draug, Kris…”

“That’s right. We’ll be with you every step of the way! And Lady Linde sounds way more interested in seeing General Lang fall than Prince Marth,” Kris added. Although that cretin’s head is MINE.

Caeda said, “Princess Yuliya, think of this as the ultimate test. It’ll be our chance to see where her loyalties lie. Moreover, it’s safer to keep her under close supervision than leave her at camp or on a front that goes unwatched. If you want to switch places with Marisha, though-”

“No way! Jubelo and I swore we’d be part of the castle siege, and nobody can tell us otherwise!”

Jubelo added, “Y-yeah. Even if it means working alongside her, we know where we want to be.” And maybe Linde will surprise us… i-in a good way.

Chapter Text

Next morning saw the long-awaited assault on Olbern commence, albeit with fewer numbers than the twins expected. Securing the north demanded a great deal of attention: Princess Caeda, Prince Marth, Dame Kris and others would not join until later. That left them as part of a small crew with Ogma acting as field leader and Sir Jagen providing tactical oversight. Numbers were less of a concern than in most sieges though, as narrow access from the east would slow a larger group. It also gave them leverage against the counterattack from Lang’s guards.

Even so, advancing was no easy feat. The initial cavalry rush fell with ease and the islet checkpoint was unguarded, but progress stalled afterwards. Another cohort of cavalry came thundering down the second bridge to intercept them, and the islet’s fortifications demarcated the ballistae’s outer range. Fighting became more chaotic as they fought for control of this stepping stone; the line shifted constantly, with no position being tenable under the threat of stonehoist. Yuliya and Jubelo had to retreat onto the first bridge when a cavalier nearly broke through, until Jagen ordered the all clear so they could offer much-needed magical support.

It didn’t help that Linde was part of their formation. Although she made no attempts on them or their allies, her magic’s raw destructive power kept them on edge. Yuliya didn’t trust her former escort serving the offensive’s logistics, either.

Her ponytail lifted and streaks of light shot skywards, most prominently in a coil that danced around her. “Divine radiance that pours from the heart, shine bright and ascend to the skies! Rain down and purge the land! Feel the heat of my Aura!”

It was even more terrifying up close. Draug and Ogma had to back up when rays started beaming around the target. That same coil spiraled down moments later, crashing on the unfortunate cavalier at its epicenter. He and his horse remained intact, but toppled over after the brightness dissipated.

Yuliya watched the whole sequence in horror from the bridge’s mouth, cowering behind the end of the railing while her brother hid behind her. Marth and Caeda let her walk freely with THAT power!?

“Princess, Prince, keep your wits about you! Barst requires support!”

“Um, y-yes sir!”

Unfortunately, keeping a comfortable distance wasn’t an option after they committed to the offensive. Jagen’s orders were firm, strict and absolute, similar to General Lorenz when they watched him running drills. It was their first time on the receiving end though, and with the pandemonium ahead they dearly wished they’d gotten used to feeling pressure from behind sooner.

Still, this was war. Jubelo took a moment to collect himself before stepping in front of Yuliya – who for once was in no hurry – and escorting her to their wounded comrade. Barst shuffled around the architecture backwards, keeping his axe raised to deter another cavalier from capitalizing on his wounded torso. After the prince’s fireball repelled that rider he bounded over a barricade to close the gap faster, clutching his side in pain after landing. “Oogh! Thank goodness you’re here, Princess! That knight did a number on me!”

“Just hold still and give me a minute.” She tugged his wrist to get him to remove it, raised her staff and began muttering the incantation. Her eyes moved constantly to observe the wound closing, track her brother and keep tabs on her surroundings.

Of particular concern was Linde, who started creeping closer when she noticed the twins emerge from shelter. “Don’t worry! I’ll cover you!” she asserted before turning back toward the enemy.

Yuliya lowered her head and focused on healing. Just ignore her, just ignore her, just ignore her…

“Don’t sweat it, kid. She’s on our si…” Barst’s eyes widened. “INCOMING!”

Divine radiance that pours from the heart, shine bright and ascen-”

His warning fell on deaf ears. Linde took a higher position atop a rampart and was preparing another Aura… she didn’t catch the stonehoist hurtling her way. It crashed into her midway through, throwing her to the ground with a high-pitched scream.

“Holy…! Y’know what, I’m good! You oughta take care ‘a her!”

Yuliya scoffed as the fighter hefted his axe and pulled away. Fat chance. Curiously she hazarded a glance to her left, then did a double-take and gasped. “Brother!”

It reminded him of the night they fled Olbern… the bolt struck her down so quickly, so brutally and all they could do was keeping running. Linde was not their countrywoman but her laying broken in a heap renewed that harrowing scene. Jubelo rushed to her side to check on her – by the time he was on his knees she rolled onto her bottom, struggling to sit up. She was alive but badly bruised, clutching her chest with one arm; the other hung at her side while keeping a stubborn grip on her tome. Her breaths consisted of wheezes frequently interrupted by choked sobs.

“Linde!? Linde, are you…” No, of course she’s not okay! He turned to his approaching sister and pleaded, “…Y-Yuliya! Yuliya, Linde needs-” He was surprised by a strong tug. “Yuliya!?”

Instead of helping, she tried pulling him again. “Jubelo, what are you doing?! It’s not safe out here!”

He fought back and repeated, “Yuliya, Linde needs healing!”

“So? One less worry for us!” She tugged again, but he kept resisting. “Jubelo, come on! Let’s go!”

“We’re not leaving her here!”

“Yes we are! Now follow me, before-”

“Princess Yuliya, help her.”

Yuliya released her brother’s arm and turned around to confront Ogma, matching his stern glare with pure defiance. “Ogma, she’s one of Archanea! She’s with the enemy!”

“She’s with our crew now, and you’re not going anywhere until she’s back on her feet.”

“She has that weird Nosferatu tome. She can help herself!”

“Does she look in any condition to risk that? She needs your healing magic!”

“Well, she’s breathing! Does she look dead to you!?”

Jubelo sighed in disappointment. He considered reminding her of the people they’d agonized over leaving behind but knew it wouldn’t change her mind. Linde looked so hurt, her eyes begging for help… if more troops arrived she wouldn’t last another minute. All of them were in danger if reinforcements caught them while Ogma and Yuliya were bickering… he had to think of something fast, something that would get his sister to set aside her feelings and heal Lin…

…or heal at all. A stroke of cleverness had him searching the grounds. If she won’t heal her, then maybe… aha! He spotted an arrow stuck in the ground a few feet away, likely from a previous skirmish. After confirming that Yuliya was still busy arguing, he scrambled for it and slid back next to the mage, who gave him a curious look through her pain. “Stay close to me, I have an idea,” he whispered.

“Damnit Princess, we don’t have time for this! Quit your griping and HEAL HER ALREADY!”

“AAAAH!”

Both parties froze and whipped around to find Jubelo hunched over on his knees, agonizing over an arrow he clutched at his chest. Yuliya gasped and shrieked, “JUBELO!”

Jubelo!? … Wait. How did he… While the princess immediately dropped to her knees, Ogma’s tried to rationalize the situation. He was fine a minute ago; Draug and Barst kept Archanea’s troops at bay, and there wasn’t a single archer in their group. Come to think of it, Jubelo’s pain didn’t look genuine…

It all clicked. So, that’s your solution. Well played, Prince.

“Stay with me Brother, I’ve got my staff right here!” Yuliya begged. Her Mend staff’s bulb trembled as she held it to him with one hand, the other gripping the arrow’s shaft. She battled the temptation to rip it out and cause more harm while frantically recalling the incantation. “Holy Spirits! Channel my prayers through this staff, enriched by our craft, and let them Mend this poor sou-”

That was his cue. Feeling its first glow, Jubelo quickly grabbed her staff and jerked the bulb towards Linde. Yuliya was stunned – first by the sudden movement, then her magic rejuvenating the wrong mage, compound by another glance towards her brother. The arrow was lying on the ground, dry as when he found it, and his shawl only had a minor indent from its tip.

Linde breathed a relaxed sigh and stood back up. A thin coat of dust, light clothing damage and a few faint bruises remained, but she was otherwise back to normal. She briefly stretched and said, “Ahh. A little sore, but I’ll manage. You have my thanks, Princess,” before popping open her tome and jogging towards the barricades. “You too, Prince!”

Likewise, Ogma gave him an approving nod before returning to the fray. A warm smile crept up his cheeks as the sense of accomplishment sank in.

Its warmth was short-lived, as Yuliya’s furious collar shaking brought him back to reality. “Jubelo, what is wrong with you!? That wasn’t for her!”

“Yuliya, she needed healing! You’re the only cleric here, you, I… w-we had to do something!”

She berated, “You would have served us better if you just left her there! She’s Princess Nyna’s lapdog, remember? We had the perfect chance to be rid of her, and you-”

“Princess Yuliya! Draug requires healing, immediately!”

Yuliya looked around to Sir Jagen on the bridge, then Sir Draug limping to shelter, and finally to her trepidant brother. Snarling, she released him and warned, “Don’t do it again!” before picking up her staff and striding toward the armor knight.

Jubelo caught his breath, bent over to retrieve his tome and turned around to his sister. He wore a pout while she wasn’t looking. Sorry Sister, but you’re the one who told me to be craftier.

Reinforcements ceased after the next wave, and after a mad dash across the bridge they broke through the sole armor knight before dismantling the ballistae. By midday the castle grounds were secure, but Jagen dared not enter the keep until regrouping with his lieges. Caeda arrived first with Kris in her saddle and instructed Yuliya to summon Prince Marth… he and Marisha were in the middle of meeting Lord Farone. She opted to wait several minutes to let them finish, during which a few more troops arrived. Once he relinquished Hammerne she cast Rescue on the pair, then leveraged her staff to pry Marisha off when she refused to let go – an exasperating moment for all in attendance.

Marth uttered a relived sigh. “Thank you, Princess Yuliya. It’s not so bad the second time…” Assessing his surroundings he added, “It looks like your mission was also a success. Is everybody ready?”

Caeda advised, “We need to hurry. Palla and Catria spotted reinforcements from the borderlands. I sent a messenger back to camp directing them to clean up and hide; the rest of our forces are staking out to protect our convoy. Now it’s up to us to ensure they have no liege to save.”

Jubelo and Yuliya looked over the group they had. Prince Marth, of course… Princess Caeda, Ogma, Barst and Dame Kris? All capable hands… as were Sir Draug and Sir Sirius. Linde wasn’t their first choice, but they were stuck with her… Marisha was okay, another healer to aid them. Lastly, there was that thief Julian, whom Marisha spoke well of; they weren’t sure how good of a fighter he was, but somebody to pick locks and reclaim stolen goods might come in handy.

Yuliya however noted some disappointing gaps. “Princess Caeda, where’s Sir Gordin and Ryan?”

“Sir Gordin volunteered to stay behind to keep an eye on General Jeorge. His unit’s been stationary but we don’t want them striking us from behind.”

“And Ryan is with the rest of our platoon waiting to ambush the reinforcements,” Kris added.

“Oh… fair enough. Even if they’re missing the best part…”

“You and Jubelo can tell them about it later. For now, we have a keep to claim, and while we’re on the subject… Yuliya, if you’ll kindly scout the keep?” Caeda requested.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can see everything inside.”

“True. Merric wrote that your magic doesn’t penetrate buildings easily… well, what about after we claim the foyer? Will you be able to search him out and reach him then?”

She fidgeted anxiously. “I uh, I don’t think you understand…”

“The Rescue spell cannot reach inside tightly shut chambers, and even if it could the spell can only lock onto those the wielder aligns with. So, if you were planning… to…”

Linde’s exposition tapered off under the princess’s intense glare. “O-oh, um, forgive me Princess! I-I, did some research on your staff at the palace library and-”

“Nobody. Asked you,” she growled coldly.

“U-um, sorry, I just… uuuhh…” The mage timidly turned away and muttered, “Carry on, then.”

Yuliya rolled her eyes back toward Marth and Caeda. Damned moocher… “I-it’s like she said. Even if I found Lang under there I can’t just pluck him out, even if I wanted to.”

“Well so much for that idea… sorry Marth, we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Right. Then can I at least count on you to survey what you can see?”

She held her staff at attention like a knight held his lance. “Of course, Prince Marth. Whatever aid my staff can afford, it shall afford you.”

“Great. Then I’ll ask you to follow our frontline closely when we march through the gates. Thank you, Princess Yuliya.” Marth then heard a loud crash and looked over his shoulder. “And by the sound of it, the gates are now open. Follow me, Princess… Draug, Kris. You’ll come too.”

Most of their forces began following Prince Marth as he and Sir Jagen directed them into formation. Yuliya attended them right away; Jubelo a minute lingered to steel himself, but before he stepped forward to join them Caeda cut in front of him. “Ogma told me what happened earlier. Between you, Yuliya and Linde… thank you. You did the right thing.”

“Of course Caeda, I… I couldn’t just leave her like that. Not after seeing… on that night, we…” He tensed up and lowered his head, raising it when he felt a gentle hand clasp his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say more. Not right now,” she replied. Her empathic frown then shifted to a more pleasant smile. “Just know that you made us proud. Prince Marth, Master Wendell and the others will surely agree. General Lorenz must also be smiling upon you.”

Jubelo’s cheeks started to turn pink under his shy smile.

“So if you have to mislead your sister in the right direction again, go for it.”

“I will… although I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Me neither. But with her attitude you never know.” She looked over her shoulder and stated, “It’s now or never, Prince Jubelo. Are you ready to retake Grust?”

His expression became determined. “I am. Even if I can’t fight well… I’m ready, Princess Caeda.”

She didn’t say another word, turning towards her pegasus and withdrawing her Wing Spear from the saddle. Asbard nuzzled his rider and then took off for safety with a timorous neigh. Jubelo checked his bookbag in the meantime, pulling out his Fire tome before joining her in front of Olbern Keep’s stairs. A short climb brought them to the gates, wherein they found their comrades awaiting orders while Prince Marth and Sir Jagen prepared their strategy.

Lady Linde Sahrada – White Rose’s Emissary

Linde’s tale took an unexpected tragic turn five years ago. Her beloved father slain by his jealous once-peer Gharnef, she was thrust from her cozy life in the palace and left to wander the countryside, disguising herself as a boy and trying to survive. Eventually she was captured by slavers and held in Knorda, until Prince Marth and the Altean Army freed her. There she reunited with her dear friend Princess Nyna, made new friends and put her magical talents to use for the Altean Army. In their company she bore witness to the Dark Pontifex’s downfall – who’s laughing now, Gharnef!

Since then Lady Nyna took her in and mentored her in the ways of being a noblewoman. It wasn’t easy… Linde always shied away from large crowds and kept to herself. As a child the only friends she needed were Nyna and her father, Pontifex Miloah. So expressing herself around others is difficult… when she isn’t holding her tongue she’s speaking her heart, sometimes too loudly. Still, new friends such as Merric and Prince Marth give her inspiration, and Lady Nyna’s like an older sister more than ever. She always dreamt of succeeding her father as a pontifex and wishes to help her lady address their kingdom’s problems… knowing the ends makes the means more bearable.

But her hardships are far from over, as another looming crisis forced her from her lady’s side to aid Prince Marth. There are a few familiar faces here, but no Merric and no Nyna leave her feeling lonely again. She met Grust’s heirs once while visiting Merric at Khadein… maybe they could be good friends? If she can get past the discomfort her Archanean ties cause them…

Chapter Text

Draug dug in his heel while an enemy soldier tried to push through. “Hrrgh! Oh no you don’t!”

Reinforcements caught up faster than they expected. While they cleared the west foyer’s defenses, two friendly soldiers ran in behind them: one was a short red-haired girl with a bow, the other an older knight in blue separated from his horse in the chaos. Archanean soldiers followed closely behind them, mostly pikemen with a few archers and armor knights behind them. Thankfully they had taken the foyer, its two narrow entryways providing them good chokepoints; but Prince Marth was forced to carry on with less than half his forces while the rest held them off.

With his armor, pavise and deceptively quick reflexes, Sir Draug closed one hallway on his own. The second was more difficult – Sir Sirius was certainly resilient, but with lighter armor and volume of attackers he had to make brief retreats. Barst and the other knight could take his place but the former was even more lightly dressed and the latter seemed to tire quickly. Jubelo and the new girl had trouble offering cover fire, lest they expose themselves to enemy archers, who carried longbows and could harass them at a safer distance.

“…and bring him here to safety… Rescue!” Yuliya recited.

Sirius had advised the princess that Julian was in the treasure hoard during a retreat, and she got the message. Once he cleared out the last chest she summoned him to their shelter before Archanea got to him. He was clearly relieved, covered in bug bites and nursing a burnt forearm. “Phew! Thanks a bunch, Princess! My heart went through the roof when I heard soldiers storm in behind us!”

“Yeah, some of them were about to check. Hold on, let me grab my Mend.” She wiped her forehead and leaned Rescue against the wall to trade for Mend. Her eye twitched in annoyance when Barst and the new knight were there too when she turned back around. “Grr… I’ll get to you, just wait your turn! This guy was almost torched!”

While the onslaught kept her and Marisha frustratingly busy, Jubelo had a more precarious position. Although he could easily arc his Fire spells over Sirius, the cacophony and spearheads frequently flashing around his guard constantly kept him on edge. Making matters worse, an archer realized the knight had a backup and was arcing his overhead to target the poor boy. Another arrow bouncing off the ceiling broke his concentration when it ricocheted past him. “Fi- aaAH!”

“Stay back, Little Prince! It’s unsafe if you cannot keep your nerve!” Sirius urged before shoving back a soldier with his polearm.

“Uh, yeah! Okay! … B-be careful, sir!”

Jubelo scrambled out of the corridor, peeking back repeatedly in case another arrow chased him. He nearly bumped into the queue after rounding its mouth. “Are you alright, Jubelo!?” Yuliya asked when he emerged – while she was healing Barst, her eyes were on the hallway after hearing him yell.

“I-I’m fine Yuliya, but it’s too dangerous for me out there! …Sorry…”

“Well, go see if Prince Marth needs another mage! Maybe it’ll be less hectic over there!”

“Uh, right…o-okay!”

Although as he’d rather wait it out, he knew Yuliya wouldn’t approve of him dawdling, least of all when taking back their castle. He started slowly, then hastened his steps when Barst was finished and taking over as backup. Down the other hall, Marisha was removing an arrow from the girl’s arm while Draug continued to stand firm. He then came to another corridor that lead to an antechamber, after which the throne room and stairwells to the upper floors waited. It was quieter ahead and the chamber showed no signs of conflict, a welcome surprise for his strained nerves. He slowed his steps while approaching the final hall, anticipating the throne room to be more heavily guarded…

In the corridor stood a head of long brown hair and the back of a violet tunic. It was significantly shorter than Linde’s and the figure was taller with more masculine proportions, a curious peek back revealing him to be a young man. “Um, hey kid…”

Jubelo held up his palms and shouted, “A-ah! Don’t hurt me!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, relax! I might look like Navarre, but I ain’t him!” He turned around fully, hastily sheathed his Killing Edge and struck a friendly smile. “Name’s Samuel! I’m a mercenary too, just not nearly as good… still, people kept mistaking me for him, so I figured I’d play along.”

“Wha, what are you doing here, then?” the prince stuttered.

“Well, I was on a job for General Lang - was. Didn’t like it but the soldiers wouldn’t take no for an answer… still, I wouldn’t dare turn my blade on Ogma or that lovely lady he serves!”

“You know Ogma?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back! Not to very pleasant days, but he taught me how to swing a sword and helped me outta that wretched pit! Figured I’d side with him instead of the guy who-”

“THAT’S IT! NO FORGIVENESS! KILL HIM!”

Jubelo exclaimed, “That sounded like Princess Caeda!”

Neither was either to enter the throne room, so they crept to the end of the hall and peeked inside. It wasn’t hard to guess what happened: Prince Marth had retreated to the back wall to collect a vulnerary from Jagen, his cape was singed and his sword arm was burned. Caeda furiously pursued the culprit, a mage on the other side of the room while the rest of their forces battled Lang’s guards.

The general pleaded, “See?! Even among my soldiers I don’t command full-”

“Save it you monster! Your truths are as thin as your hair!”

His eye twitched in rage. “Impertinent girl! I should have seen you flogged back when- wa-aagh!!”

The general ducked behind his shield as Kris flew at him with an armorslayer drawn, using her previous foe’s shield as a ramp to vault past the underlings and go straight for their commander.

Samuel remarked, “Wowza! That girl’s got moves! Sounds pretty pissed, though… say, kid. You’re rooting for the blue team, right?”

“My sister would kill me if I even joked about cheering for Lang!”

“Ha, good answer! Mine would probably say the same if I had a sister.”

It was difficult to observe their battle with the columns that lined the throne, but Jubelo and Samuel caught glimpses of movement between the pillars. For all his cowardice – or because of it – Lang was quite adept with a shield. He didn’t strike back with his spear, but whenever the knight changed her angle of attack his pavise quickly followed. Effective as it was for shearing plate, her blade lacked the same impact against a disposable prop.

That didn’t stop her from trying. Her vigor wouldn’t waver no matter how many times he tried to block her, fueled by the sheer contempt she had for that wicked man. “You’ve trampled countless people! Insulted my liege! The only way you’ll atone is with your li-aiyh!”

Lang shoved her away forcefully with his shield. “Silence! I’ve had enough of your tongue-beating, wench!” he barked, finally thrusting his spear at her. She easily rolled away, but her pestering put his head in the game… when she returned he fought more aggressively, utilizing his spear and even the small height advantage the throne’s altar offered.

Towards the center of the chamber, Ogma was receiving much-needed backup. He bore the brunt of all three armor knights after Kris leapt past the line, but Prince Marth had recovered and Princess Caeda had taken her revenge. Bolstered by comrades on either side he could afford to go on the offensive – a crosswise cut from his broadsword sent the middle knight staggering back while startling the flank knights. His lieges seized on the opportunity, thrusting their respective rapier and Wing Spear into the weak points of their foes’ armor.

A bolt of lightning caught the middle knight by surprise, and before he could recover Ogma swung his blade overhead and brought it crashing down with a loud clang. Jubelo covered his mouth and gasped as the knight sank to his knees, then dropped dead on his side.

Samuel commented, “Now that’s a helm splitter if I’ve seen-”

“Navarre!”

He hastily shut his mouth and ducked behind the wall, as did the prince.

“Navarre, where are you, Navarre!?” Lang desperately demanded. Although anger gave him courage the royal guard’s persistence was eroding it fast. “Get in here and kill these ingrates before-”

“No one is coming to save you, heathen! Take this!”

She managed to weave around the shield and cut his forearm, shallowly but enough to make him drop it. In doing so however she brought herself dangerously close, and Lang thrust his spear at her neck. She caught the shaft with her free hand and stopped it from penetrating to deep, but a strong kick to the gut sent her tumbling down the stairs.

“Kris!” Marth rushed to her side and knelt down to check on her, but before he could ask if she was alright she rolled back onto her feet, picked up her sword and glared at Lang defiantly.

“Ngh, I’ll be fine, sire… I won’t rest until that pig is stuck on my sword!”

Lang growled and picked up his pavise as the knight sprang back into action. “Hmph! Wretched girl! I won’t be dethroned by some country-boy prince and his scullery…” He lost his fire and started to panic as streaks of light descended around him. “H-huh!?”

Kris screeched to a halt and practically kicked the floor to get away. Linde kept a low profile for most of the fight, to the point Jubelo forgot she was even there. Now, cloaked in a whirling aura with her namesake tome she made her presence clear. “…and purge this nest of vice! Feel the wrath of my Aura!”

Lang’s eyes went wide in terror. “W-w-wait! Call it off! Call it aaaaaauugh!”

His screams were obscured by the high-pitched whine that accompanied the spell. Jubelo and Samuel had to shield their eyes from the intense rays that shone through the columns.

“Whoa! I’d hate to be on that chick’s bad side,” the mercenary remarked.

“Uh, yeah… me too.”

Despite her spell’s ferocity, that was suddenly less of a concern. Jubelo stood in awe at the results… it felt like a crushing weight rolled off his shoulders as General Lang sank to his hands and knees, then thudded forward a second later. The monster who stole goods, lives, women and their peace of mind would trouble them no more – done in by the woman he and Yuliya feared might be their enemy.

“Urgh… impossib… I was so close to…”

Lang muttered weakly, struggling to breathe under his weight and injuries. From the corner of his eye he spotted the mage in pink and returned her contemptuous glare with what little spite he had left.

“Rrrrrr… traitorous, wen… ugh.”

“Hmph.” Linde clapped her tome shut and stowed it in her bookbag. “Worthless piece of… wha!?”

Kris angrily spun her around and demanded, “Linde, what was that for!? I had him!”

“This is war, Kris. No one is entitled to a kill.”

“Entitled?! I was avenging my liege’s honor! If I wanted you butting in I’d-”

“Kris, Linde, that’s enough! Break it up!” Marth interjected, stepping between the girls and pushing them arm’s length apart. “Kris, I understand you wanted to put that dastard to the sword since we met him. But our mission was to deliver justice. It doesn’t matter who got the kill; what’s done is done.”

Kris scowled bitterly towards the back wall. A quick glance at Linde revealed she too was looking away, but with a small pretentious smile that made her snarl.

At least until Marth continued. “However, Linde! That’s no excuse for using your magic irresponsibly. You could have caught Kris in the blast!”

She turned around incredulously. “Prince Marth, I was paying close attention! I waited for her to get some distance before… uh…” Her pleas did nothing to dissuade his stern grimace. Kris leered at her over his shoulder while she stuttered into silence.

“See to it that doesn’t happen again.”

“…yyyes, sir. My, apologies,” she peeped, grumpily lowering her head and shrinking away.

He relaxed and turned to Kris. “Well, it’s finally over. Now that General Lang has been defeated, Grust’s people no longer have to suffer under him.”

“Nor do we, sire.”

“And I’m glad! He’s dragged us into several fight that could have been avoided. Miraculously, we all made it through this alive… at least, as far as I know.”

“Whatever harm they caused, this shall be its extent. We’ve found a volunteer to spread the news,” Jagen said. He gestured back to Ogma leading a bishop they arraigned towards the exit. “For now, let’s see who they’ve locked up downstairs.”

“Right. Kris, follow us. Linde, it’s probably better you wait out here.”

“I’ll be here, sire…”

Joined by Kris and Caeda, Marth followed his adviser toward the door and took the lead after he opened it. Linde seemed to linger in the room, not quite idly but looking around and waiting for… something. Jubelo retreated further into the corridor when she started turning his way, and Samuel followed suit. “Wow. Crazy day that just happened… something wrong, kid?”

“Nah, I’m just thinking. Yuliya and I thought Linde was a danger to us, but now…”

“Coming through, Prince.”

“Huh… oh.”

Jubelo promptly backed against the wall as Ogma passed through with the unhappy bishop in tow, wrists folded behind his back. He barely spared the prince or Samuel a glance. As he decompressed from the opposite wall, Samuel asked, “Did Ogma just call you Prince?”

Archanea’s troops gave up and fled after news of their commander broke. It was a relief for the fatigued rear guard, but Yuliya was baffled by how abruptly it ended. “Yeah, but why would they just give up when they had us cornered?”

Sirius suggested, “Some of the soldiers might have friends and family they long to return to. General Lang doesn’t give the impression of a good commander; why give up their lives for a lost cause?”

Ogma added, “They’ll probably find better commanders in other parts of the empire. No reason to serve a paymaster who can no longer pay up… and worry more about his wounds.”

“I know, I can multitask!” she shot back, holding her Mend staff over Sir Arran. The paladin took a bold stand distracting reinforcements, and if not for Sirius’s intervention would have been mobbed. She recoiled when he uttered a hoarse cough. “Whoa! Ah, are you okay!?”

“Haah! … …I-I’ll be fine, Princess Yuliya.” He nudged the staff bulb away and rolled upright. Sirius knelt to support him as he forced himself to stand.

“You sure about that, sir? That cough doesn’t sound good…”

“It is nothing you need concern yourself with. I’ve had this for a while now… if comes and goes. If a cleric could do anything about it I’d have it cured by now… ugh.”

As Arran flinched in pain, Sirius said, “Whatever the malady, I think it’s best you got some rest.”

“Rrr, agreed. Thank you, Sir Sirius… please, lead the way.”

What’s wrong with him? While Yuliya and Jubelo watched Sirius lead him away, they could tell Sir Arran was not well. In the former’s case there wasn’t any doubt: her clerical training taught her how to “feel” the nature of illnesses. Sir Arran’s was deeply rooted, beyond the reach of rudimentary healing magic, and must be causing him great pain. Left alone it would certainly be fatal…

Ogma commented, “It’s not something you two need to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m a cleric!”

Jubelo asked, “Ogma, do you know what he has?”

“No clue. He was healthy when I left Altea if beaten up from that incident. But if he doesn’t want to talk about it then don’t bother him. He barely escaped death today as it is.” Ogma glanced back up the stairs, where he saw Jagen approaching. “Enough about him. You got something to say, Sir Jagen?”

“I’m glad you asked. Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya, I am proud to announce we found Lord Wendell in the dungeon,” he answered, motioning for them to follow.

The twins’ hearts took off as they climbed the stairs, their first steps slow and shaky but soon hastening with excitement. Prince Marth, Dame Kris and a few other Altean knights were gathered in the foyer, and in middle of the room was Archbishop Wendell, alive and unharmed. His eyes widened with joy when he saw them. “Jubelo? Yuliya? Oh, thank goodness!”

“M-Master Wendell!”

Jubelo wasted no time running to him and falling into his embrace when he knelt down, sobbing against his robes. “Nn-hnnn! …I, I missed you so… hic!”

“Easy Prince, I missed you too. When I heard about what happened at Aud I, I feared for the worst!” Wendell wiped away tears and looked up to Yuliya, who approached more slowly. “And what about you, Princess Yuliya? Are you alright?”

“Of course I was alright! I-I’m, a princess, I wasn’t scared! I stayed strong, just as I… I…” She clenched her staff tightly, trembling forward with every stiff step, fighting to maintain her composure.

Until a gentle nudge from Ogma startled her. “Go. No one’s judging you.”

“Knock it off! I said I’m a princess! I-I won’t cry like… like…” Despite her assertions, Yuliya’s harsh expression was slipping, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “…mmm… … …I-I-I missed you too!”

She dropped her act and rushed the last few steps into the bishop’s open arm, hugging both him and Jubelo tightly. “Sniff… when, when you were taken away, I… I-I didn’t think we’d see you again…”

“Shhhh, there’s no shame in crying at times like this,” he assured, giving her a comforting pat on the back. “Prince Marth, I can’t thank you enough for protecting them in my stead!”

Marth wiped a tear from his eye. “My pleasure, Lord Wendell… but I can’t take all the credit! It was Ogma who saved them from General Lang.”

“All in King Talys’s good name. And there are others you should thank.”

“Oh yes! Prince Marth and Princess Caeda told me about all the new faces you’ve met. That masked knight came to your aid, Sirs Gordin and Ryan looked after you, and Dame Kris even confronted Lang on your behalf!” She gave a cheerful nod when he glanced her way.

Yuliya exclaimed, “Yes! We didn’t meet Prince Marth and his knights under favorable circumstances, but they turned it around very quickly! …Well, most of them.”

“I’m sure you two have much to share! Prince Marth, would you mind if I took them to rest? These last few weeks have been harrowing!”

“Absolutely. I hear Archanea’s been in an orderly retreat since word at Lang’s defeat broke.”

“Good! Those parasites had no business in our lands to begin with!” Yuliya stated.

Jubelo added, “And if there are any in hiding, Master, I have your Shaver tome right here.”

“Ah. Thank you for retrieving that while I was away!”

It took the old bishop a few seconds to rise with twins’ support. Jubelo handed him the tome, and after giving their comrades a friendly wave they began navigating to the private quarters. Wendell let his charges lead while telling him about their time apart, but kept a diligent pace in case any stray soldiers waited in ambush. It helped that his charges were in no rush, nor were their encounters dangerous; all they passed were dead soldiers, and they’d seen dirtier kills before. It was still unpleasant, and Prince Marth would need to have them removed… nevertheless, the twins’ storytelling kept their walk upbeat.

“The journey to Aud Coast was dangerous, but brought a small sense of normalcy once we established…” Yuliya tapered off when they entered the throne room. “…whoa. This is a mess.”

After a relatively clean antechamber, the throne room showed similar signs of violence to the foyers. Three armor knights lay in the center with varying signs of trauma, the worst being the middle knight with a caved-in helmet. His blood formed a pool that might stain the rug through multiple washes. Right outside the columns on their side was a bishop with a deep gash across his chest, and by the other entrance hall rested a mage.

But the body she was most curious about was obscured at first. She spied glimpses of his armor between the pillars, but had to weave through the row for a closer look. There was General Lang, lying prone at the foot of the altar. Yuliya approached cautiously, waiting within the row and tapping an adjacent pillar to see if he might wake up. After several seconds of nothing she entered more confidently to examine the body, followed by Wendell and Jubelo. What was most striking were his injuries: there were a few shallow cuts, but he appeared… almost baked. His skin was browned, his remnant hairs reduced to cinders with a faint ashy odor.

Much like the knights they saw… No, SHE couldn’t have! “…Did you do this, Brother?”

“No, that was Linde’s magic. Kris fought him fir-”

“You cannot be serious,” she interrupted in flat disbelief.

“Yuliya, I saw it with my own eyes! She killed General Lang! I was watching with that mercenary!”

Wendell confirmed, “Yes, Prince Marth told me how the fight went while freeing me. Linde spoke ill of General Lang while at Khadein, she and Princess Nyna were unhappy about his release. It must be liberating to know this cruel man no longer walks.”

“More like the perfect chance to cover her tracks.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“She only did this to look like she’s on our side. She’s biding her time for a better chance to strike while cleaning up one of Archanea’s loose ends… I see right through her,” Yuliya growled.

“Princess Yuliya, Linde is a close friend of Merric and Prince Marth! She wouldn’t betray us!”

“Sure, like her kingdom had the ‘best intentions’ when it tried turning Grust into its colony! Well, this is what I have to say about it.” She handed Rescue to Master Wendell, withdrew Mend and smacked Lang’s cadaver in the head. “That was for Lorenz! And we won’t rest until we’ve pried your empire’s hands off the other kingdoms and ground its knuckles to dust!”

Oh dear… Wendell watched uncomfortably as she struck it again before putting the staff away, reprising Rescue and marching upstairs. He exchanged a glance with Jubelo, who looked just as worried, before the two followed her upstairs to find a good room.

Olbern Keep’s halls were clear of Archanean filth by the evening, replaced by the Altean army’s soldiers and civilians. There was no grand celebration despite their resounding victory, with most understanding this was just the first step of something far greater. That included the twins: Yuliya tirelessly gathered books, some of which they studied before, so they’d have material for their journey. Jubelo followed along in relative silence, today’s events laying thicker on his mind.

“It’s been months since we touched the second volume. We should bring the first in case we need a refresher… and we must take the third volume, too,” she mused, adding books to the pile.

Sitting on his bedside, Wendell asked, “Princess Yuliya, how about taking a break for tonight? The Altean army will probably not march for another few days.”

“But this is important! Jubelo and I lost several months after that cretin kept us out of Olbern!”

“Princess, you’ll have plenty of time tomorrow morning to choose your reading material. And I’m not sure if Prince Marth will let you take all those books…”

“Yeah, Yuliya. That stack is already up to my eyes,” Jubelo added.

“It’d be lower if you were on your feet like me… but, you’ve been awfully quiet about this, Jubelo. As Grust’s next King and Commander, you should be worrying about this more than me!”

“I am, Yuliya! But… so much has been happening these last few weeks. Today, even… I’m still thinking about how Lang died.”

“You don’t really believe Linde was doing that for us, do you?”

“Um… I do think she had her own reasons.”

“Exactly! She only did it to make herself look better in Prince Marth’s eyes! That’s all there is to it,” she reasoned before turning back around to continue organizing the stack.

Jubelo begged to differ. He didn’t see the same menace in Linde that she claimed and was tired of being afraid… and frankly, tired of his sister’s attitude too. “Well, only one way to find out.”

Yuliya’s hands slowed when she heard that, and she flinched when a pair of moccasins clicked against the floor. Looking over her shoulder made her more uneasy with her brother walking towards the door. “Jubelo, where are you going? We have books to sort!”

“I want to get answers from Linde first, and thank her,” he responded without looking back.

“What!? …Jubelo, wait!”

She dashed across the room and grabbed his wrist. Wendell urged, “Princess, relax! He’ll be fine!”

“No! Brother, she’s dangerous! You saw what her magic can do!”

“Caeda’s been sharing a room with her and hasn’t had problems. I’ll be fine… now let! Go!”

Yuliya was shocked when he jerked his arm free and kept walking, let alone the angry scowl he shot her. “Jubelo, stop! Or you, you’ll…” Thinking quickly she retreated into their room, grabbed her staff, hurried back into the hall and threatened, “…or, or I’ll use this!”

He paused and glanced back over his shoulder. “And, then what?”

She looked dumbfounded by his blunt answer.

“I’ll just walk away again. You can only use that so many times before it runs out, and you’ve been using it a lot lately. And how will Prince Marth and Princess Caeda feel about you wasting it?”

Her face dropped into a frown. “But, Jubelo…”

“You’re the one who keeps saying I need to show more courage. I don’t want to stay afraid of Linde if I don’t have to, and… well, I agree with Master Wendell on this one.”

Wendell stood in the doorway and encouraged, “Well said, Prince Jubelo. Go and confront your fear. I promise you this won’t be as menacing as the last!”

Jubelo’s smile returned. “Thank you, Master Wendell.” He took another three steps, then turned back around and showed his sister a determined look. “Yuliya, I won’t make you join me if you’re not ready, but I wish you would, and you are not stopping me. I want to do this.” He took another deep breath before turning away and continuing down the hall.

Yuliya cradled her staff and stared nervously at her feet. It wasn’t like him to go against her like that, let alone when she was only trying to protect him. And Master Wendell too? …If she couldn’t trust him on this, then who could she trust?

She flinched when he patted her shoulder. “Easy now, Princess. Linde may hail from Kingdom Archanea but she means you no harm. In fact, you might be good friends if you…” The bishop paused as she slipped out and started shuffling the other way. “Where are you going, Princess?”

“I-I need time to myself. Please.”

Wendell worried while she hurried around the corner. He wanted to follow her, give her comfort and keep her out of trouble, but he knew how fickle she could be. Yuliya, you needn’t worry this much…

Chapter Text

Jubelo’s heartbeat was already wound from arguing with Yuliya, and it drummed faster the closer he got. Linde was rooming with Princess Caeda on the opposite side of the keep; Ogma gave him the door in the penultimate hall, along with a reminder to take it easy. He appreciated the support, minimal as it was. Still, it did little to quell his anxiety or extinguish the hot, flushed feeling that came with it. Meeting new people was challenging in general.

Have faith, Jubelo. You made it this far. Caeda will be there too, he told himself while stopping in front of the door. He took a deep breath and knocked before he changed his mind. “Um, Princess Caeda?”

“Present,” she responded. “Do you need something, Prince Jubelo? I’ll remind you that Linde is here too.”

“That’s okay. I… actually, I’m here to talk to her.”

Linde’s voice squealed with excitement. “Really!? …One minute, please!”

Jubelo checked left and right while he waited, idly pacing two steps in one direction before turning around. No sign of Yuliya, or anybody else save for Ogma and that mercenary… Samuel… at one corner. He sent a wink and a thumbs-up before Ogma pulled him away… Jubelo smiled at the gesture. It was nice seeing others believed in him.

The click of a lock snapped him back to reality, with Caeda opening the door dressed in her nightclothes. “You can come in now.”

They had a modest chamber with two beds. Caeda’s belongings lay at the foot of the right-side bed, while Linde’s were arranged more neatly on the left. She stood in front of it sticking needles into a pincushion… she looked over her shoulder and said, “Don’t mind the needles Prince, I was just mending my robe. I needed to slip it back on.”

“Uuumm, okay,” he awkwardly replied, sitting on Caeda’s bed and soon joined by her. Linde sat cross-legged across from him with an eager smile and wide brown eyes. It wasn’t frightening per se, but hard to maintain eye contact under a constant stare.

She noticed his eyes wander and asked, “Sorry, am I making you nervous?”

“N-no, um, i-it’s just, me…”

“Take all the time you need, Jubelo,” Caeda assured.

He shut his eyes, took deep breaths and squirmed into a meditative posture. No one said anything while he calmed himself. He peeped one open while relaxing and saw Linde had lowered her eyes to a book. After another minute of recuperating, he opened them and spoke another “um” to get her attention. “I, uh, w-wanted to, thank you for… getting rid of General Lang!” he blurted out in a hurry.

“You’re very welcome, Prince! Although I had others reasons for wanting him dead. That dastard never should have never been pardoned to begin with!” she exclaimed with a fiercer expression.

“Ah. So you didn’t like what he was doing either.”

“Not in the slightest. I hated that creepy look he gave Lady Nyna and I the one or two times we crossed in the palace, and I was horrified when Prince Marth spoke of his deeds in Grust! I actually tried to learn more myself after returning from Khadein, but no one would tell me!”

He tilted his head. “Nobody?”

“It was always, that is none of your concern, child, or, why does a lady of court need to know? What, so being a woman makes my status and closeness to the Empress matter less!?” she ranted.

Caeda explained, “Archanea’s court has seen deep divisions over the last year. Linde and Nyna oppose the imperialistic direction Hardin is taking, but unfortunately the bad actors’ side has won at every turn.” Maybe if Nyna actually THREW HER WEIGHT as QUEEN around!

The court details weren’t that relevant, but Jubelo understood. “Okay… then there are others who opposed Lang’s actions?”

“We’re in the minority, sadly, but yes. Others have expressed disapproval… like Marquess Jeorge of Menedy! He’s been the Emperor’s most vocal opposition, and Gordin is… uuumm… I, I mean…”

Linde stopped herself before she said too much, hurrying to rethink her words. Unfortunately, Jubelo heard loud and clear and stared inquisitively waiting for more… meanwhile, Princess Caeda looked like she might strangle her. LINDE I SWEAR TO NAGA!

“Um… w-what I meant to say was… Gordin met with him during our battle, aaaaannnd…”

“What were you going to say before that?”

Caeda interjected, “Gordin spoke with him while we assaulted the keep and was able to negotiate a truce. General Jeorge had little interest protecting Lang, and Gordin didn’t want to fight against one of the continent’s most renowned bowman. He’s admittedly a fan of his craft, Jeorge having authored one of his favorite archery books.”

Despite remaining somewhat dubious, Jubelo nodded. “Okay… so, that’s what she meant.”

“Linde is not the most socialized noblewoman. Her people skills leave to be desired and she sometimes minces her words.” She then grumbled, “Still better than almost mincing Kris.”

“Hey! I said I was waiting until she… uuuhh…” Caeda’s deadpan glare put a stop to Linde’s protests. She shyly lowered her head, twiddled her thumbs and confessed, “Well, maybe I owe her an apology…”

It’s more than a maybe, Linde, Caeda thought.

“It’s okay. I got the impression you weren’t aiming for her… but, Caeda’s right. You should apologize.”

“Y-yeah, I get it, Prince…” She paused, looked up and raised an eyebrow. “…wait. You saw that?”

“Uh-huh. I started watching in the hallway with… Samuel, after we heard Caeda screaming.”

“That was after Lang tried playing victim and claiming the Emperor forced him into evil. I didn’t buy it for a moment, but it stalled Marth long enough for a mage to sneak up on him… I, lost my patience. Not my finest moment, but I’ve been very frustrated lately,” she confessed sheepishly.

Linde reasoned, “Haven’t we all? You spent a year stressing over Grust, then had to leave Altea behind in its darkest hour. My life hasn’t been sunshine and rainbows either, and I had leave Lady Nyna behind and at Hardin’s mercy by her command… … …aaand, Prince Jubelo’s story speaks for itself.”

“Uh, yeah. We don’t need to say anything about that.”

He spent half a minute in silence, thinking one of them might continue, but nervously lowered his eyes when he saw both girls waiting on him. Wanting to keep a good moment rolling, Caeda said, “So now you know. Linde’s not conspiring against you and there are other Archaneans who stand against the Empire’s injustice, including its own empress. How does that make you feel, Prince?”

“Uh, lot better. I’m glad to know you’re on our side, and I’ll say it again! I’m grateful you took down General Lang for us!” He dropped his eyes with a bashful smile when Linde beamed back. “Uuuh, sorry, I-I, don’t mean to be rude it’s, just…”

“Heehee! It’s alright Prince, I’m no stranger to shyness! Please don’t beat yourself up over it… in fact, I’d call our meeting now a sign you’re improving!”

His cheeks lit up. “Really!? Ah, haha… thanks Linde, but… yyyou don’t need to give me that much credit!”

Caeda patted his shoulder. “It’s true. Facing fear is no easy feat. You have good reason to be afraid of Archaneans, especially one with her power and connections. Yet you chose to confront her anyway on the chance you might have been wrong. Either of those alone is a mark of good character, especially for someone in a place of authority.”

“I, guess that’s true…”

“Moreover, you beat Yuliya to the punch.”

Excitement welled up as her words sank in. She was right… whenever they faced adversity before, Yuliya was the first to step up. It would have been more characteristic for her to confront Linde first to confirm she was safe. But she wouldn’t trust the mage despite evidence, and he had to take matters into his own hands. Without her consent… no, against her wishes.

Once he digested it, Jubelo raised his head with a look of pure awe. “Yeah, I… I did!”

Caeda giggled over his proud, gaping smile. “You ought to give yourself more credit. Yuliya might be more proactive, and I’d dare call her the more capable twin. But you showed sounder judgment and an open heart today, and that counts more than most people think… especially with how she acts. I’m more ashamed at her conduct than I am yours,” she mentioned while eyeing Linde, who chuckled nervously.

“Aha, y-you’re not letting that go, are you… say, Prince Jubelo. Where is she?”

“With Master Wendell, I think. She didn’t want me going and tried to stop me with Rescue, until I pointed out what a waste it’d be. I wish she was here now, though.”

She slumped despondently to one side. “You’re telling me. I would have loved to make amends… you know, for how painful that stonehoist was, I felt it when she tried to leave me for dead.”

“Well, now that I heard it from you I can try relaying it to her. If that doesn’t work, then maybe I can spend more time around you? Like, you can help me with my magic, or…”

She perked back up. “Oh, that’s a great idea! Light magic requires a strong grasp on emotions, so maybe I can help you regulate yours talents better. Is also toes the line between black and white magic, so when she does warm up, I can help with her studies-”

A sudden knock interrupted her. “Uuuh, Princess Caeda?! We might have a problem!”

“Ryan!?”

It was alarming how distressed he sounded. Jumping to her feet, Caeda rushed to the door and was greeted by an anxious expression. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“I don’t know, but… I overheard Princess Yuliya shouting at my brother a few rooms over, and…”

Shit! “…We’re gonna have to put this talk on hold. Ryan, take us there now!” Linde, if you ruin this…

Yuliya couldn’t believe what she just heard. Sir Gordin colluding with that Archanean general? …No, that CAN’T be right. I must hear it from him!

Using her staff to sweep the living spaces, she located him with the other senior knights one floor down. She heard Sir Jagen speaking when she arrived at the door, and after stopping to recompose herself she knocked to signal her presence before opening it. “Ahem. Sir Gordin?”

Five curious gazes immediately greeted her, with Draug, Frey and Norne also present. Gordin briefly turned back to his comrades before addressing her. “And, that would be Princess Yuliya… is something wrong, Princess? You look tense.”

“Yyyes I, need to speak with you. Immediately.”

“Is it not something Archbishop Wendell can help you wi-”

“No sir, it concerns you. That’s why I must speak with you. Now,” she reiterated.

He paused and glanced uneasily to his peers again. “Um, okay… iiif you’ll excuse me, I need to take this.”

“As you will. We’ll be here,” Jagen replied.

His eyes popped slightly wider after closing the door behind him, noticing the staff she so tightly clasped. Still, neither said anything while he led her to a more suitable space. She kept her head low with a furrowed brow, peeking up once to see he was equally anxious, which only made her feel worse. It suddenly occurred how indirect he was toward Linde, assuring she wouldn’t harm her but never agreeing she was an enemy. On the contrary, he seemed to disagree with her warnings… He wouldn’t really collude with the enemy, would he?

After passing several chambers he directed her into a small, vacant room with a bare mattress. Only when the door was shut and they were seated did he speak. “Do I need to ask why you have-”

“It’s an emergency! I, I-I-I…” Her sharp retort quickly subsided into a whimper as she lowered her eyes and stared at the bulb. “Um, sorry sir I, n-needed it to keep track of Jubelo.”

“Why? I thought he was with you and Lord Wendell?”

“Well, Jubelo wouldn’t stop thinking about her, and even after repeatedly telling him not to he insisted on talking to her. Thanking her for what she did,” she explained with a tone of disbelief.

Gordin nodded. “Ah. Okay.”

Her head snapped up. “Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t see the problem. In fact, I think it’s a great step towards…” He paused when she suddenly scooched away with a fearful glower. “…were you expecting a different answer?”

“I thought you’d be more supportive! Especially after Master Wendell sided with… with…”

He waited for her to finish, but she dropped her head in gloom again and rolled the staff’s shaft in her palms. “He thought it was a good idea too, right?” She nodded weakly. “…Well, Lord Wendell has known Linde longer than you. Most of us here have, and while not personally we’ve seen enough of her and Lady Nyna to know they would not want what Lang was doing to happen. We are listening to you, Princess Yuliya, but… I don’t mean to offend you, but we know better.”

Yuliya didn’t respond, still in her sullen slump. Gordin hated seeing her so torn up and isolated… he tried sliding closer and patting her lap, but she instantly stiffened up. “Please. Refrain from touching me.”

He withdrew his hand and gave her distance. “Sorry Princess, force of habit… I take it you were using Rescue to eavesdrop on them. What did you hear that made you come find me?”

Her head tilted ever so slightly up. “Linde was saying there are supposedly other good Archaneans, one being General Jeorge. She brought up your name while…”

Gordin’s eye twitched. Linde, I TOLD YOU not to-

“…and she said you negotiated a truce with him.”

Silence followed. Yuliya noticed his brief flash of anger and now stared at him again with greater consternation. The exposed expression he returned only reinforced her worries. It seemed more likely she was sitting on top of some dark secret about to rear its ugly head. Gordin plainly understood her growing suspicion and felt like he was trapped in a whirlpool.

“Is that true?” she demanded as she started to grow impatient.

He gulped. “Well, yes I, we…”

Yuliya narrowed her eyes at his dithering. Initially he froze, but after brief reflection he realized there was no escaping it. She has to learn sooner or later. If I wait, it’ll make this worse. With a defeated sigh, he confessed, “…I wanted to confirm exactly where he stood.”

“Why go through the trouble? Against your own advice? You said it would be dangerous to approach him! That it was safer to keep him at a standoff!”

“Because I’m the only one who knows him well enough to get close.”

She gawked, “What? You cannot be serious! The Menedy are a family of cutthroats and deceivers! How could you, or anyone possibly know when it’s safe to-”

“Because he’s my archery mentor.”

Yuliya went cold. Gordin tilted his gaze down to avoid the sheer look of betrayal that overtook her face.

“…Yyyyyou’re joking, right?” He shook his head. “T-tell me it’s a joke! You’re just pulling my leg, a-a-and…” Panic worsened when it continued. She hopped to her feet, stood in front of him and pleaded, “Gordin this isn’t funny! You, you’re really scaring me right now! You, you’re not, y-you can’t be…”

He kept shaking his head, shut his eyes and braced for the inevitable. “Forgive me Princess, but I’m telling the truth. Master Jeorge taught-”

“WHAT!!”

Ow… There it was. That shrill scream left him cringing, although it stung less than the livid, red-faced glare that confronted him when he reopened his eyes.

“They leave Jubelo and me with you when you’re the student of MENEDY? Why did no one TELL ME?!”

He cleared his ear and replied, “Isn’t it obvious? You weren’t ready to hear-”

“Of course I wasn’t! I shouldn’t be hearing this! It was bad enough having the crown’s lapdog hound us, but YOU!?” She punctuated her outburst by pointing straight at his nose. “What other lies were you trying to feed me? How much of you is real!?”

“Princess, I didn’t want to deceive you! It wasn’t my idea to…” He paused when Yuliya flinched, followed by sniffles and her head and shoulders folding inwards. “…Yuliya?”

“Y-you lied to me,” she sputtered as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why? Hic… all this time, I thought I could trust you! But you… … y-you…”

Oh no… Gordin felt awful for what he had to tell her. He fully expected her to be angry with him, and her brief denial was also predictable. But seeing her become this upset made it hurt far more than he anticipated. “Princess Yuliya, I’m sorry I had to- Yuliya!?”

Yuliya started with a half-turn, then spun completely and ran for the exit when she heard him talking. She wanted to curse him out over his duplicity, but her sadness was too overwhelming. All she could do was get away from this pretender as soon as possible.

“Yuliya, wait!”

She jolted when a hand grabbed her shoulder just as she grabbed the doorknob. Her grip on the Rescue staff tightened, ready to fight him off…

“Please, listen to what I have to say! I know I withheld some… d-damning, things from you, and… and, sniff… I am so sorry I had to hurt you like this!”

…but the cracking in his voice gave her pause. She lightly nudged the hand, and after he removed it she cautiously peeked over her shoulder. To her surprise, he was crying too… she turned back around for a better look, and his sorrow appeared genuine.

“I didn’t want to trouble you, honest! And I would have given you and Jubelo space if given the choice, but…” He sighed, wiped his face with his wrist and adopted a more solemn demeanor. “…but I know shifting blame won’t fix this. You would’ve had to learn sooner or later, no matter who spilled it.”

She wiped her face with a handkerchief and blew her nose. When she reestablished eye contact her gaze had its usual severity, albeit a hint softer… she was listening.

“I understand. It’s hard to swallow when they’ve done you so wrong… believe me, after Gra betrayed Altea I felt the same way. After what they did to… us, we…” He hesitated and rethought his words to avoid that touchy subject. “…Prince Marth, me and all the Altean knights. We wanted nothing more than to get even with them! And it was hard to trust people from the kingdom that sided with Dolhr, like Grust and Macedon, but some of them turned out to be very dependable!”

She narrowed her eyes. “And you think Menedy’s Marquess is trustworthy?”

“I know he is. He’s a closer friend than any of my peers, short of Ryan.”

Yuliya grimaced. Gordin was tempted to push back but didn’t want to tax her further, so he struck a calmer tone and pleaded, “Princess, Jeorge not the man you think. He might seem cold and calculating at first glance, that much is true, but he really cares about us! He never used his tutelage to exploit me and he’s been very critical of Archanea’s cruelty. In fact, he used his deployment here to sabotage Lang’s agenda, and the only reason he didn’t turn now was to protect his men. That Physic staff I brought back was his gift to us, something to show Prince Marth where his loyalties lie.”

She kept shifting her gaze between her staff’s bulb and his eyes, feeling conflicted… while still loath to believe what he was saying, it seemed sincere. Just as everything else about him came across until now. Part of her feared the marquess had poisoned his mind, though… her expression turned ambivalent while her mind toed the question. I just don’t know. Is he for real, or is this another one of his tricks?

“If you met him yourself I’m sure he’d clear your doubts. I realize I’m asking a lot, but won’t you give me the benefit of the doubt? Please?” He clasped his hands and gave a hopeful smile. “Princess Yuliya, you’ve been a great listener up to now! Can I ask for your trust one last time? You’re free to hate me if you aren’t satisfied, but until then-”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

His smile grew wider. “Does that mean-”

“Yes. When he… if he joins our cause… you will introduce me to him. And I will decide if your claim is true,” she asserted while maintaining firm eye contact.

“Thank you, Princess! And I promise, he won’t be anything like the monsters you-”

Knocking startled them both. Yuliya hopped half a step towards Gordin before awkwardly maneuvering behind him. “Big Brother? Are you okay in there?” a familiar voice called.

He glanced back at the princess and asked, “Want me to take this?” She nodded. While she recuperated, he cracked open the door to peek at his brother. “Can I help you Ryan?”

“I heard Princess Yuliya shouting a few rooms over and, well… we were worried something happened.”

“We? What do you mean… oh.”

After noticing the group Ryan brought, he opened the door fully. Yuliya peered around him and spotted Princess Caeda, Linde, and her own brother in the hall too. Caeda promptly inquired, “Tell us what happened, Gordin. Does she know about… you-know-who?”

“Yeah, I just told her about Master Jeorge. She wasn’t happy, but-”

“Master!? You mean you’re… oooooh.” Jubelo’s panic was much shorter lived. He quickly calmed down and wondered aloud, “Is that what Linde meant to say?”

“If she named me while talking about him, that’s probably what she meant. Sorry if I startled you… Jeorge is my archery instructor and a good friend. We agreed not to talk about it until I broke it to you when I was assigned to you. For obvious reasons.” He said this while glaring daggers at Linde, who frantically evaded eye contact.

Caeda grabbed her upper arm and stated, “We’ll talk about it once we wrap up here.”

“Oh, you bet we’re talking about it!” He then paused and took a deep sigh before returning his focus to Jubelo. “But, for now… what do you make of it, Prince? Now that you know.”

“It’s okay… I’m a little surprised, but I get why you kept that from us. To tell you the truth, I’m just glad we don’t have to be afraid of Linde anymore.” He peered around Gordin to look at his sister. “What about you, Yuliya? You look, um…”

“I-I’ll be okay, Brother. We’ve, come to an understanding.”

Yuliya’s response was remarkably tepid, and the melancholic gait with which she stepped through the doorway was also concerning. Jubelo was unsure how truthful his sister was… she looked exhausted. Gordin too quietly noticed the contrast to mere minutes ago.

“I think you two have experienced enough excitement for one night. Ryan, can you take them back to Lord Wendell? Your brother and I need to have a private talk with Linde,” Caeda requested.

“Of course, Princess Caeda… um, right this way.”

Caeda and Linde stood aside while Yuliya shuffled next to her brother. The two began following Ryan, but she stopped after a few paces and turned back around. “Um, w-wait… Linde?”

The light mage looked back in surprise, as did Gordin and Caeda. “Yes, Princess Yuliya?”

“You… you dealt the final blow on General Lang, didn’t you?”

She proudly confirmed, “Yes, that was me. I’ve wanted that scoundrel gone for months-”

“I get it. You don’t have to go into detail.” Yuliya hesitated for a moment, and after glancing back at Jubelo stuttered, “Th-th-that’ll be all for tonight… … and, uuuummm… … …thank you.”

Linde barely heard her gratitude, but it brought a smile to her face. “You’re quite welcome, Princess… um…” Her smile faded as the princess walked away. “…w-well, have a good night…”

Jubelo offered a courteous “good night” in return, but Yuliya didn’t have the energy. She kept drifting away with her chin dipped forward and her hands insecurely grasping her staff. Ryan and Jubelo quickly caught up to her and walked on either side. Linde watched wistfully until they disappeared around the corner, after which a light tug from Caeda coaxed her into the room. “Come on, you.”

When they reached the stairs, Ryan encouraged, “Cheer up, Princess Yuliya. I know it must have been difficult to hear the truth, but no one meant any-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now, Ryan. Leave me alone.”

“Ah… okay.” He looked across to Prince Jubelo, whose somber expression conveyed his own worry.

Nobody spoke another word until they climbed the stairs and their room was just around the corner. “This is far enough. We can explain to Master Wendell ourselves… good night, Ryan,” Jubelo bade.

“Okay. Good night, Ju… Prince Jubelo,” he corrected while starting back the way he came. “You too, Princess Yuliya! And feel better!”

Jubelo opened the door and allowed his sister to enter first. Wendell smiled and set his tome down upon hearing the knob turn, but dropped it upon seeing her malaise. “Ah, you’re back… Princess Yuliya?”

She didn’t reply, keeping her head low as she sat on her bedside. Jubelo sat to her left after closing the door, and Wendell moved to sit at her right. “Princess Yuliya, what’s gotten you in a slump?”

“He lied to me… everyone did! Why?” She threw up her hands and lamented, “This whole time he was a close confidant of that Archanean general, and no one said anything!”

Wendell nodded. “Ah, that.”

Before he could continue, she looked up and asked, “Did you know, Master Wendell?”

“Prince Marth warned me about it while freeing me from prison, and I would have complied if this charade lasted longer.”

He felt a tinge of guilt when she drooped in disappointment. Putting an arm on her shoulder he assured, “But consider this, Princess: Sir Gordin never meant to frighten you, nor was he acting on his teacher’s agenda. I think he cared about your wellbeing just like Princess Caeda, Ogma, Prince Marth and others.”

Jubelo huddled against her. “Yeah Yuliya, I don’t think anyone meant harm. They only lied because we weren’t ready to hear the truth.”

“I guess so… he did say he wasn’t given much choice, and, it was on short notice.” She lifted her head slightly and wondered, “…Do you think he’s mad at me for acting out?”

“I think we should let it rest for now.”

Wendell concurred, “Yes, I think our questions can wait until tomorrow. You’ll have plenty of time to seek answers now that Archanea has been driven from Olbern… but on that note, did you find the answer you were looking for, Prince Jubelo?”

“I did, Master Wendell. It was more than I expected, what with Sir Gordin’s secret too… but I’m glad we don’t have to be afraid of Linde anymore,” he said with a smile.

His teacher smiled back. “And I’m glad to see you move past your misunderstandings and find new friends! I think you two could learn a lot from Linde, both as an accomplished mage and another who’s gone through her own ordeals. You should be proud of yourselves for mending this bridge.”

Yuliya started to crack a smile while her brother’s grew wider. “Thank you Master Wendell. It’s… I’m, going to have a lot of thinking to do, but… I think we’ll get through this.” She then fidgeted and requested, “I’d, like to lie down now if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly. I wouldn’t mind calling it a night either.”

Uttering a yawn, Wendell returned to his bed and blew out the candle on his nightstand. Jubelo and Yuliya stood up to peel back the sheets before sliding into bed, first the princess followed by her brother. Home again at last, he easily settled into a comfy position and would’ve fallen right to sleep if not for his sister’s turbulence. She’d roll one way, linger a minute or two and then flip another. Growing impatient, he whispered, “Yuliya, it’s okay. I’m here, Master Wendell’s here, no one’s going to hurt us.”

“I know, Brother. I just… can’t get what happened off my mind.”

“Sister, it’ll be fine. No one is upset over how you acted. Now please, get some sleep.”

“I’ll try… goodnight, Jubelo.”

“Goodnight, Yuliya.”

The turbulence decreased but didn’t go away immediately, and Jubelo rolled on his side facing away. I wish you’d stop worrying about Sir Gordin already… it made it harder for him to distance his thoughts from tonight. He finally relaxed when Yuliya snuggled up against his back after tiring herself out, both twins drifting into calmer dreams in their first night home.

Chapter Text

Waking up in their own castle again was a welcome change. News of their victory spread fast, and citizens from adjacent regions already came to give their thanks. Visitors were limited, but there was a consolation for all who made the journey… at the twins’ request, General Lang’s corpse was mounted outside the gates. Grust’s people were permitted to spit and beat him with sticks, although a small watch was stationed nearby after a few young men tried to make off with him. He would be cremated before they sortied again, both to ensure proper disposal and to deny an Archanean burial.

Watching a corpse get desecrated wasn’t particularly productive, though. Instead, Yuliya was curious to hear about Prince Marth’s experience with Gra. “Ah. He, told you about that,” the prince replied, with Sir Jagen also appearing morose.

“He said you all wanted revenge after they wronged you. How bad was it?”

“It was the darkest chapter of my life. I awoke that morning to a false guard accosting me barely after getting dressed. I’d been taught some swordplay, but more soldiers soon joined from the adjacent hall and cornered me. Had my sister Elice not shown up with Frey and Abel, I would have died there!”

Yuliya, Jubelo and Wendell listened intently. The prince kept his emotions in check but the gravity in his tone spoke volumes about the ordeal.

“After mending our wounds she sent me to locate Jagen and prepare out evacuation. She said she would join us after fetching Mother, but…”

The twins quietly reached for each other’s hands when Marth hung. Jagen explained, “Princess Elice lied in order to speed him to safety. With King Cornelius dead, Queen Liza unaccounted for and the mark on Prince Marth’s head, she was the only voice for the crown who Altea’s people could turn to.”

“Her life was spared. Mother wasn’t so fortunate… that blasted manakete appointed to Altea’s occupation slew her personally!”

Marth’s brief flash of anger startled the twins. He quickly mellowed out upon seeing their fright and said, “Ah, pardon me. It’s not an easy story.” After they nodded in understanding, he continued, “…Aaanyway. The next few days weren’t much better – we had to lay low in the woods, then break for the northeast for Jiol caught us. We had a very close call upon reaching the prison complex… the opposite door was being kept shut, and Gra’s honor guard was on our heels. Frey had to disguise himself and ride back as a decoy to buy time while we figured out how to get past the door.”

“You mean that knight in blue who barged in with that archer during the siege? …I-I remember hearing his name while scrying rooms last night,” Yuliya admitted sheepishly.

“Yes, that’s him. By some miracle he survived, but not without sustaining lifelong injuries.”

Jagen added, “We all bear scars from that time in one way or another. Leaving our kingdom under the Dolhr Alliance thumb was a blow to our prides. If Sir Cain was here he’d be the most vocal; he rode with King Cornelius and had to abandon king and peers to deliver his final message.”

“And what about Sir Gordin?”

“…Come again?”

“He sounded like he had a big chip on his shoulders. What happened to him?” Yuliya reiterated.

Jagen exchanged a wary glance with his prince before answering, “I’m afraid you will have to ask him to hear his story.”

“Huh? But he was with you too, right? Surely you know-”

Jubelo leaned in close and whispered, “Yuliya, he might not want to talk about it.”

She quieted down. “…n-never mind. I’ll try asking later.”

“It was generous of you to provide the full background, Prince Marth. Now, would you care to tell us about your feelings on the aftermath? Merric told me how some of your sentiments… disturbed him, when he visited my tent,” Wendell mentioned.

Jubelo thought back to one night in the woods. “I think Ogma mentioned it too while we were on the run. How you let your values slip… um, sorry.”

“No Prince Jubelo, it’s alright. I’m not proud of it myself… after a period of self-loathing, my thoughts were consumed with revenge. I wanted to see Dolhr and its allies, most of all Gra, fall as thunderously as they bore down on Altea. After driving them from Aurelis and uniting with Princess Nyna I wanted nothing more than to march on Gra and my homeland next! …Leveler heads prevailed. Even Malledus and Jagen sided with her and Prince Hardin.”

The veteran knight nodded. “Twould be perilous to cut across Archanea without retaking her heartland, not to mention the morale that came with the Ageless Palace.”

“Indeed! When we freed Pales, got the backing of Princess Minerva and even found Linde for Princess Nyna, I felt like I was on top of the world! I thought nothing would stop me as I marched on Gra, crushed them under my boot and moved on to Altea.”

Yuliya asked, “And what stopped you?”

“It was during a skirmish in Menedy territory, on the way to Gra. We were fighting Grust’s artillery regiment and I went to check on the villages, as I usually do… there was a young woman. She voiced her support but also mentioned Grust was divided over the war. That some may have fought with Archanea rather than Dolhr given the chance.”

Yuliya and Jubelo felt chills. It was their imprisonment was what kept Grust in line, and if they had been free… or, if their people decided to free themselves… what would have changed?

But there was also the prince’s somber, remorseful tone that kept their attention. “It made me stop to think about the big picture. What she spoke of was already happening… we took in foes defecting to our army before. Caeda recruited several, and a few practically threw themselves at my feet. But until then I was so focused on taking one gate, one throne and then the next. I knew my knights were with me but it didn’t occur just how many others were, even on the opposing side!” Marth had to pause a moment before continuing. “…I never learned her name, but I am forever grateful for what she told me that day. She helped me realize our foes were more than just enemies… it didn’t extinguish my hatred, but it let me march into Gra, Grust and beyond with a clearer conscience.”

Wendell advised, “Take note, children. Anyone in the right place at the right time can make a difference, no matter how small they seem. And bear in mind what Prince Marth said of Grust’s split sympathies, as the same can be said of Archanea now.”

Yuliya tapped her chin. “I guess… even so, it’s still hard to fathom a lone commoner out of the blue swaying Prince Marth… wait. Did you say you encountered her in Menedy territory?”

“Correct. The Menedy estate extends onto Gra’s island, comprising its eastern regions.”

Huh. So it was one of that Archanea general’s people… While Yuliya contemplated in silence, Jubelo had a different question: “Why does Menedy control part of Gra’s island?”

Jagen answered, “I believe it was a concession in exchange for House Menedy backing the kingdom’s secession from Altea. You might get a straighter answer from Sir Gordin.” With how much he’s been reading up on Archanean history lately…

“That reminds me. Gordin may have told you how he’s been in contact with Jeorge since the last war.” Marth’s expression turned sour as he explained, “Well, I recently learned that Caeda has been using their correspondence to extract information from Archanea’s court. Mostly to keep tabs on Grust.”

The twins’ eyes widened in surprise. Wendell confessed, “While I wasn’t aware of that, I must be forward with you, Prince Marth. King Talys informed me of his meddling too, and I was careful to keep Merric out of the loop. While I didn’t like withholding it, I knew the danger of these secrets spilling over to you.”

Jagen grumpily concurred, “Believe me, Archbishop. We could hardly believe what Princess Caeda and Sir Gordin did behind our backs… nevertheless, we cannot say their conspiracy brought the hammer down on Altea. Currently, all signs point towards no and their contact provided a vital lifeline, for it allowed Empress Nyna to warn us of the impending attack.”

Yuliya was flabbergasted. “Really?”

“Yes, Caeda says they were just as surprised. I don’t think anyone predicted a letter from the Empress arriving through…” Marth paused upon seeing Draug peek in the doorway. “May I help you, Draug?”

“I came to report that you, Prince Jubelo and Princess Yuliya have visitors, sire.”

Yuliya looked over her shoulder and chided, “We told you we weren’t taking visitors right now!”

“I’ve been informed these aren’t just any visitors, Princess. Three claim to know you and Prince Jubelo personally, and one is a familiar face to-”

“Eyyyy, Princey! Good t’see ya!”

Jubelo and Yuliya were startled by the entrance of that massive man. Dwarfing even Sir Draug, he had to duck a smidge and slide diagonally to fit through the doorway. By all accounts he looked like a barbarian, dressed in skins with fur trim, exposed regions covered in scars and his chestnut hair running back in a small mane. Although their company was not perturbed at the sight, the twins scampered from their seats and huddled behind Master Wendell for safety.

Marth chuckled. “Well met, Ymir, although I’m afraid you spooked your little lieges… Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya, this is Ymir. We met in the last war while he was protecting his village.”

Ymir looked towards the two children apologetically. “Ah, sorry ‘bout the shock. You’re that prince and princess General Lorenz was protectin’, eh?”

Jubelo remarked, “You, yyyou’re huge…”

He smirked. “Heh. I get that a lot. Beats bein’ called a monster and havin’ stones thrown.”

“I can assure you, he’s been a monster to Lang’s men. Sir Ymir has been invaluable in keeping them away from our sanctuary villages.”

Yuliya cheered up when three familiar knights filed in alongside him. “Oh, we know you! Prince Marth, these are Sirs Belf, Roberto and Leiden. They were General Camus’s platoonmates and have been organizing our rebellion in the frontier lands.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sirs. My condolences to your commander as well.”

“Understandable. It’s an inevitability of war… anyway. As you may have guessed, we came to thank you for slaying that horrible tyrant,” Belf replied, offering a humble bow. His peers followed suit. “We meant to mount a counteroffensive, but Archanea’s crimes were too widespread. Trying to keep our countrymen safe stretched our meager forces too thin.”

“Aye, it makes me blood boil just thinkin’ about it! Burnin’, lootin’, taken our women from their homes… rrrrrrgh!! Gimme the chance and I’d pound that armor inta sheets with HIM IN IT!” Ymir punctuated his declaration by slamming his fist into his palm like a mallet. He quickly calmed down, glanced at the twins and awkwardly added, “Er, sorry about the disturbin’ mental image…”

“No, it’s okay. Continue.”

That inspired a hearty laugh. “Hahaha! I like you, Princess!”

“Well, your efforts weren’t wasted! You did the work of an entire battalion holding the gates!”

He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Aw shucks Robby, you’re makin’ me blush! I’m just doin’ my part like every other fightin’-form man… can ya believe it Princey? A few years back I was just some ogre in the badlands. Now I get folks callin’ me Sir like some honorary knight!”

“With a heart as big as yours, I can think of few better for the honor!”

Leiden cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Yes, we owe Sir Ymir much praise, as we do to you for delivering the deathblow, Prince Marth. But we are not here just to sing praises… Your Highness, now that you’ve set Grust free, we must ask that you leave as soon as possible!”

Marth, Jagen, and the twins were taken aback. “Huh? Why? I understand if you want to rebuild without Altea breathing down your necks, but…”

Belf raised a hand. “Please excuse our comrade. Leiden can be straightforward to insensitivity… however, what he says is true. The Empire won’t take Lang’s defeat lying down, and your continued presence risks their return. We already hear rumors that Archanea’s remnant soldiers are gathering up north to place themselves under new command. I believe his name is Sir Astram.”

Marth gasped. Jagen nodded and said, “They’re right, sire. Despite our uncertainty, we must assume Archanea won’t stop at your kingdom, and it is unlikely Grust can endure another occupation.”

Leiden agreed, “It’s a fact we cannot endure! So please, if you want what is best for Grust you must sortie as soon as you are able! With luck you will be able to outrun them, they’ll follow you away and we’ll be free to rebuild in peace. We will see to Prince Jubelo’s safety and begin-”

“Um, actually…”

Leiden paused, and all eyes fell on Prince Jubelo. He too fell silent, unnerved by the attention, and timidly glanced to his sister. Yuliya straightened her face and gave a resolute nod. Say it like a prince.

He smiled… that was all the encouragement he needed. Thanks, Yuliya. With renewed courage he wore a matching expression, walked to the center of the room and declared, “Prince Marth, my sister and I wish to continue serving your cause.”

His knights were stunned. “Prince Jubelo? Are you sure about this?”

“With all due respect Your Highness, your safety is paramount to the survival of-”

“Oh come on! We had our lives dangled several times now!” Yuliya complained, stomping back to her spot next to Jubelo. “Prince Marth took down Lang where you couldn’t, and you just confirmed Grust can’t endure another invasion! If they do come back, we’ll be safer with him wherever he takes us!”

Leiden’s face wrinkled indignantly. Wendell chimed in, “Although I trust you are capable, I’m inclined to agree. Most of whom you and General Lorenz entrusted them to have gathered under this banner. Talys has shown vested interest in their survival, and I’ll gladly reprise my role as their caretaker. I’m sure Prince Marth will see to their safety as well!”

“Absolutely! Allowing General Lang to take them once ranks among my greatest regrets. It’s the least I can do for Lorenz, and Caeda would be cross with me if I refused… sirs, on my honor as Fifth Prince of Altea, I swear we shall do all we can to protect them,” he promised.

The three knights briefly exchanged wary glances, with Ymir merely shrugging when Belf’s eyes jumped to him. After quietly contemplating it, he conceded, “If it is what Grust’s next king wants… but consider the risks carefully, Prince. Princess. Do you know where you will be going? And how will you contribute?”

Yuliya deliberated and stared at his brother, leaving it to him to answer. “We don’t know how long this will last, or where it will lead us… but, when have we ever? We haven’t had much control over where we can go either. It’s always been one guardian to the next… I know this is more of the same, but it’ll at least be by our choice. Besides, Grust’s King and Commanders are expected to serve in times of crisis! If I’m to be the next someday I must get used to fighting too!”

“Well said, Brother! We may not be strong fighters, but Jubelo’s grip on magic has grown steadier and my Rescue staff has already proved valuable. We participated in the siege on Olbern, and we will in battles to come,” Yuliya stated. “And we don’t know how we’ll get there, but we know what our goals are: the liberation of Altea and the fall of the Archanean Empire! We made a promise to help them take back their kingdom for freeing our own, and we intend to keep it!”

The knights looked toward Marth in surprise, who looked back in equal confusion. “Pardon me Princess, but I don’t recall you making such a promise.”

“We made it to Sir Gordin and Ryan. As their liege, our promise extends to you.”

Now their knights appeared even more baffled. Jagen clarified, “Gordin and Ryan are two of our knights. After we rescued them in Macedon, Ogma wanted your lieges to have a more suitable caretaker while things were peaceful, and Lord Wendell was absent at the time.”

“That might also influence their desire to join us, sirs. Prince Marth’s army contains more than caretakers and guardians – they’re also making new friends,” Wendell added.

Leiden raised an eyebrow. “New friends?”

“Got a problem with that?” Yuliya retorted.

“I think it sounds swell! Joinin’ Princey’s band was a chance t’meet people on good terms and get my name out there,” Ymir encouraged.

“Yeah, I agree! Especially after being so sheltered while they were…” Roberto petered into silence then the princess scowled at him. “…uh, yeah! It’s a great change!”

Belf said, “If you say so… actually, there is one person I’d like to ask about. Prince Marth, we heard about a mysterious, blonde-haired knight with a mask within your ranks.”

Yuliya happily replied, “Oh, you mean Sir Sirius! He saved us when we and Ogma were cornered by pirates! He’s very courteous and impressively strong!” Jubelo nodded in agreement.

“Sir Sirius is on a scouting mission with Princess Caeda, Ogma and Dame Kris. If you’re not busy you are welcome to wait for him here,” Marth offered.

“I’m sure Prince Jubelo would agree… thank you, Prince Marth. We shall thank him personally for his hand in protecting our lieges. However, there is something more we wished to discuss. Especially now, in light of their decision.” Belf glanced cautiously at their charges before adding, “Preferably in private.”

“Is that so? …Prince Jubelo, Princess Yuliya, are you satisfied with your answers? You can always speak with our comrades if you want more direct accounts.”

“Yeah, I think we’re satisfied…” And this office is getting awfully crowded… “…thank you, sir.”

The twins bowed before weaving past their guests and out the door. Master Wendell opted to remain in case the knights had questions or instructions for him. After rounding the first corner Yuliya commented, “Well, that meeting revealed a lot. Who knew Princess Caeda was acting behind his back? And that Sir Gordin was coordinating with her…”

“I’m not surprised Caeda would act in our best interests, but yeah. Him too?”

Yuliya turned in the barracks’ direction. “I’d like to learn more about those letters… if he isn’t upset about last night. We should also inform him and Ryan we’re still traveling with them.”

“You go ahead.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You don’t want to know more about what was going on?”

“Yuliya, we just sat through Prince Marth’s tales and all that followed. I need a break… besides! There are others we have to tell about our, uh, continued travel.”

“Most of them are out with Princess Caeda… but if you need time to relax, I suppose we can allow it.” She started walking her way, but looked back and reminded him, “But don’t get too comfortable! We have an arduous journey ahead, and a lot of preparation to do!”

“I know, Yuliya. I’ll see you later.”

Heading in the opposite direction, his thoughts remained stuck on her baffling behavior. Her first whim is to find him again… why? Last night’s encounter was very stressful for her, and normally Yuliya avoided people who left her feeling like that. That she already wanted to make amends… even if it brought out a kinder side, her preferential treatment was getting on his nerves. What is it about that him that-

He was so lost in his head he nearly walked headfirst into Linde. “Wh-whoa! I’m sorry, I, w-wasn’t!” he stuttered, hastily backpedaling away from the startled mage.

“I-it’s okay, Prince Jubelo. There was a corner,” she replied while catching her own breath.

“Ah. O-o-okay then…”

As the prince started sidestepping her, she noticed his anxiety. “Is something worrying you, Prince? You look awfully tense, even for someone who almost bump into me.”

“It’s nothing. I just got out of…” He paused, sighed and explained, “…well, it’s my sister. Yuliya and I just told Prince Marth that we plan to continue traveling, and the first person she wants to talk to now is Sir Gordin. I get that most of the others are out, but… why is she so attached to him? We’ve only known him for like, two weeks, and after last night I expected…” Amidst his rambling, he caught her eyes nervously wander to the side. “…do you know, Linde?”

She flinched when addressed. “Um, do you really want to-”

“Yes! Please! I want to know! If you have know, then tell me!”

Linde was shocked by his desperation. She cautiously checked the halls in both directions several times to ensure no one was watching. Do I really want to tell him…? Finally, after a minute of silence, she answered, “Well, Princess Caeda shared her theory last night. Not confirming anything, but… she pointed out how similar you two are.”

That descriptor left him feeling hollow. “…Similar?”

“You both have gentle, calming dispositions, and are timid to different extents. However, Gordin also has a history of standing up for his younger brother like she… I-I’m, sorry…”

Jubelo went numb and started walking away halfway through her explanation. Linde felt terrible seeing him wallow around the corner with that sad, empty look in his eyes. Ugh, I KNEW this was a mistake! Me and my big mouth… poor Jubelo.

In hindsight it should have been obvious. If not the constant praise and following, then the unfavorable comparisons spoke volumes: he didn’t meet her expectations of a brother, and Sir Gordin set a shining example. It wasn’t the first time she latched onto someone outside the family… Master Wendell and General Lorenz practically took up the role of a father for her. Granted, the same could be said for him after several years of separation and his death. But Jubelo at least acknowledged Ludwik as his father when the name arose… Yuliya only ever spoke of him with scorn, as if she’d completely disowned him.

That led to an even more haunting question: Does that mean she might disown ME!?

…Well, then I have a lot to prove! He picked up his pace with a surge of determination. Wallowing over his inadequacy wouldn’t fix this… he needed to show results, as Yuliya might insist. Anything to show her I have promise… I know! Maybe I’ll finish picking out books before she gets back! Then she’ll see I’m serious about becoming King and Commander… that was still a daunting proposition, but the thought of making her proud buried his worries.

Sirs Belf, Leiden and Roberto – Sable Remnants

These knights once served the Sable Order and were in fact General Camus’s original platoonmates! To ensure Grust retained a few capable hands he forbade them from facing the Archanean League, but perhaps he also sought to preserve their lives. In hindsight, it was good that he did… Grust badly needed those hands when General Lang arrived. Although he demanded the Order disband upon taking control of the occupation, they remained a thorn in his side as vigilantes trying to protect their countrymen. After Prince Marth saved their lieges and ousted Archanea, they owe him a debt of gratitude… perhaps they’ll find some way to repay him.

Belf assumes leadership of the group; level-headed and serious, but amicable enough where needed. Leiden is more cold, distant and paranoid, reluctant to make attachments outside of his core group. Roberto’s a bit of a scatterbrain but that hasn’t impeded his marksmanship. While they squabble from time to time they’re no less effective for it. Every man has his differences, but we are all one cohort… that is the core tenant of Grust’s knights, and these three exemplify it.

Chapter Text

“Strike the hammer and the anvil, bang, bang, baaanng… with the blessings of the great smiths, I mint this staff anew! Hammerne!”

Yuliya rolled her eyes at Marisha’s lackadaisical lyrics, but balked when she raised the staff overhead and slammed it on Rescue like a sledge. Marisha, if there is even a SINGLE DENT, I swear!

Luckily there’d be no need. Following the loud clang and bright flash, Yuliya’s staff was bathed in a lovely verdant glow, leaving no traces of damage. On the contrary, it felt reenergized when she picked it up and read its energy. “After we took Olbern I think it only had enough charge for one more spell. Now it feels good as new!” she said with a smile.

“Yup! That’s Hammerne for you! Good thing Miss Lena taught me its secrets before she… I dunno, and I don’t wanna think about it.”

She rolled the shaft in her hands and admired its renewed luster. “It even looks cleaner! More befitting of a princess restored to her realm… you’re right, it’s convenient that she taught you its secrets. But should you use it without her knowledge?”

“Eh, using it in the service of Grust should be fine. It’s half her kingdom as it is mine.” With a mischievous grin she added, “Sides, what she don’t know, won’t hurt me. Ain’t that sound like someone I know?”

“Hey! I am the Princess of Grust, and this staff’s first chosen wielder! I can decide for myself when its use is appropriate!” Yuliya protested indignantly.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah, Princess.” I already miss you all aglow over it bein’ fixed. “Cuz let’s be real, you would’ve decided it’s appropriate sooner or later if Princess Caeda didn’t ask.”

Yuliya put her hands on her hips with a pretentious smile. “Of course I would! As a practitioner of staffs myself, I understand the value of having…” A low giggle distracted her. She popped an eye open and growled, “And what are you snickering about!?”

“Hehe! Oh, nothing. Just try not to blow through it in one month again. This staff takes a long time to regain its charge, and I mean a LONG, long time! We’re talking more than a year!”

“I wouldn’t be too worried, Marisha. We’ll get more out of a fresh Rescue staff than any weapon.”

The clerics turned to the doorway to see Caeda standing under it. “Oh, hello Princess Caeda! I juuust got done repairing Princess Yuliya’s staff! You’re welcome, by the way,” Marisha snidely included.

“Is that so? Thank you for your service, Sister Marisha. It’ll be a boon to have Rescue at full capacity when we hit the trail again.”

“Oho, yes! I bet you wish you had this kind of talent, eeeeeh?”

Caeda tried not to smirk. Don’t get too cocky girl, or I’ll show you my betrothal ring. “It’s alright. I’m quite content being a pegasus rider, even if Palla and Catria offer stiff competition. On that note…” She glanced to Yuliya and inquired, “Care to give it a test run? I want to scout our trail before we march and would love having a second set of eyes.”

“Gladly! If you’ll excuse me, Marisha,” she stated, following her fellow princess down the hall. Once confidently out of earshot, she uttered a relived sigh.

“Tries your patience often?”

“You don’t know the half. I’m amazed you tolerate it so well!”

“Please, you think her vapid delusions scare me? Let her believe what she wants if it makes her happy. I’ll panic when I catch Marth swooning over her.”

Flying by pegasus was a breeze compared to the wyvern. The leg movement seemed to add stability, avoiding the steady but noticeable undulations that accompanied wyvern flaps. With a stable platform Yuliya comfortably tuned into her spell, although both sights were breathtaking in their own ways. By eye she could indulge the full beauty of Grust’s countryside, unobstructed by foliage or uneven terrain; and with her staff she could home in on smaller landmarks and settlements, even those obscured by the trees. Details were fuzzier than from the ground, but she saw enough to confirm the kingdom’s brighter tone following Lang’s deposal.

“See any more shards?” Caeda asked from the front seat.

She focused on the carriage below, then scanned its surroundings. The two shards’ signatures were strong even at this altitude. Nothing like it in the surrounding forest, but in the distance she detected a weak source. “I’m sensing something over yonder. To the north. Like, around the Fane.”

“How many? And what about the other directions?”

“It’s hard to tell at this range, but only that direction. And trust me, the two Master Wendell is carrying give off a strong presence.”

“As long as we don’t leave any behind, I’ll call it good enough.” She glanced over her shoulder and said, “Princess Yuliya, I can’t thank you enough for joining me. It’s crazy enough Lord Wendell gave us this new objective. Having someone who can track these shards over vast distances is a boon!”

“It’s the least I can do, Princess Caeda. Without Ogma or Prince Marth we’d still have that cancer running amok, and I don’t want to consider where we’d be,” Yuliya replied, halfway between sober and upbeat. “You’ve done so much to look out for us. More than I ever imagined.”

“I uh, take it you learned about my under-the-table dealings?”

“Yes. Prince Marth and Sir Jagen told us yesterday, and Sir Gordin showed me some of the letters.” There was a brief pause wherein she fidgeted in her seat before wondering, “I-is he still upset with me? It feels like he’s been avoiding me since we retook Olbern Keep.”

“He’s more confused that you’re not still upset.”

“…Confused?”

“You being so easygoing around him was a pleasant surprise. When I first described you to him, he thought you’d cause him a lot more trouble. Now he wonders why you keep seeking him out when you have Master Wendell back, and after he left you feeling betrayed that night.” Caeda explained. “To tell you the truth, I’ve wondered the same. I considered Ogma had the right idea since he watched Princess Maria, but I never anticipated you to become so fond of him.”

Yuliya nervously stared down to the ground, her cheeks feeling warm.

“I’ve even wondered if you see him as closer than a friend.”

She gasped and jolted in her seat. “P-p-p, preposterous! Jubelo and I are too young for-”

“Not like that! Sorry for the misunderstanding, I meant platonically.”

“…w-w-well, that is equally outlandish! Sir Gordin is not blue-blooded, let alone Grustian!”

“Hasn’t stopped Archbishop Wendell from impressing on you as a father figure,” Caeda countered.

Yuliya growled through gritted teeth while blushing like a beet. Nevertheless, she tried to sound dignified while retorting, “Princess Caeda, that is different. Prince Jubelo and I have been under Master Wendell’s care for two years. By contrast, we’ve known Sir Gordin and Ryan for roughly two weeks. How could you possibly rationalize us developing similar bonds with lowborn knights on such short notice?”

“Because you relate to Gordin as an older sibling, and more importantly he represents what Jubelo could be. He has the same gentle disposition along with the courage to face his fears. You desperately long for your brother to take the lead like him after being the dominant twin your whole lives. You worry that if he doesn’t change his ways soon, he’ll turn out just like his predecessor.”

Silence followed, and after half a minute Caeda started to worry. Did I take it too far? A low whimper clued her in, and checking back to Yuliya hunched over and sobbing confirmed it. Way too far. “I’m sorry, Yuliya. I… hang on, Asbard found a good perch. We can talk when we land.”

Sensing her distress, the pegasus brought them to a small plateau on a nearby mountain. Once they landed, Caeda swung her left leg over the saddle and wrapped her arm around the crying princess. “Easy there, Yuliya. I’m sorry for sounding so blunt. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not fair,” she mumbled.

Caeda briefly tilted her gaze left and shared a concerned glance with her steed. “Yuliya…”

“Why did he have to be born spineless? Why couldn’t he be the brave one, like he should!? I’d happily take being the hopeless runt if it meant he… heeee… Sniffle… i-it’s nooot faaairrr…”

She softly rebutted, “Yuliya, your brother is not hopeless. He’s been trying to improve, for his, Grust, and your sake. Think about our last few days and you’ll see his growth as both a mage and a man.”

Yuliya lowered her hands to her nose and peeked up with a sad, doubtful look.

“Who challenged your fear of Archanea first? He did. He was the first to make amends with Linde, and earlier that day he played a hand in saving her life. Both times against your wishes. It takes a lot of courage to admit you or a loved one might be wrong, and to tell them they were wrong. Now is that the mark of a scared little boy or a future king in the making?”

She wiped her face with her left knuckle and answered, “I, guess that’s progress… but he still has a long way to go. He must learn to make critical decisions. Command respect. Project power before…” She paused when Caeda raised a finger.

“Let’s focus on the positives. Acknowledge his accomplishments and he’ll be encouraged to try for more. You want him to be confident in himself, right?”

“I… I do,” she replied meekly, taking a moment to calm herself and process the advice. “Maybe I… no, I should talk to him later and… commend him for what he did. He also took initiative yesterday to organize the books we’ll be bringing… even if I made a few corrections.”

“He played his part and you played yours. That was a team effort. But yes, avoid deconstructing his own efforts when you correct his work. Treat it as a learning experience rather than strict criticism,” Caeda advised, to which she nodded. “And before we go… between you and me, it’s okay if you think of Gordin and Ryan as extra brothers.”

Yuliya’s face lit up. “Really? …I-I want to reiterate though, Jubelo is my one true brother, and I his sister. They can never be real siblings, no matter how hard I… n-n-not that I’d ever wish it!” She pouted when Caeda fought back giggles and her pegasus nickered. “You heard what I said!”

“Heehee! I know, Yuliya! I was just sharing my own experiences… as an only child I had to make due with substitutes. Ogma will never be my real brother, and he’ll deny it every time, but he’s the closest I’ve had. Asbard and I share a similar bond, and he’s a winged horse!” She beamed and stroked his neck when he neighed with joy. “And we may live on opposite sides of the continent, but I’ve always viewed you and Jubelo as the little siblings I never had.”

Yuliya’s blush return, this time a happier embarrassment. “Oh? Really, I… I-I-I suppose I should’ve expected that, but… uuummm…”

Caeda pulled the flustered girl into a tender embrace, to which she didn’t object. “It’s okay. We all express ourselves differently. I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Jubelo if you like.”

She smiled as the elder princess backed off. “Y-yeah, that’d be nice… thank you, Caeda. I appreciate having someone to confide in… you don’t mind if I call you that, right? Just, Caeda?”

“That’s how I prefer it outside formal settings. It’s so liberating to talk to Marth and Elice without having to lob honorifics left and right! Your brother’s getting the hang of it, and I’m sure you will too.”

“It, might take some time… again, thank you Caeda. And, you too… Asbard, is it?”

“Nnnnnn-hnhnhnhn!” the pegasus replied.

“That’s his way of saying you’re welcome.” She swung her leg back over the pegasus’s flank, grabbed the reins and said, “Well, let’s fly on. We have plenty more land to cover.”

While the pegasus took off, Yuliya’s eyes drifted to the horse-drawn parked outside a village. Times like this I’m thankful I’M the one Rescue chose, she thought, before a fresh question surface. “Caeda, about your pegasus’s name…”

“It’s literally Talys’s words for horse and bird cobbled together. What else would five-year-old me think seeing him for the first time?” Caeda joked.

“Ah,” she muttered before meditating over her staff.

While Prince Jubelo met with the villagers, Ogma leaned against the carriage and watched the mountain. He relaxed when the pegasus took off. “Good. They’re moving again.”

“So? Most riders need a break every so often,” Leiden suggested from the coach box.

“Not this early. Pegasi are steady fliers and Princess Caeda loves the soaring sensation, those two can fly for hours. Something must have been up to roost now.”

“You sound awfully calm for somebody who worries.”

“If it was serious she’d bring them down here, not resume their normal route.”

“Mhm… and people call me a stick in the mud,” he murmured to himself, rolling his eyes toward the village gates. As luck would have it, Roberto was returning with Prince Jubelo and their posse. “Ah, looks like we’re moving again too… hm?” He noticed the prince huddling between the archbishop and Ryan. “Is Prince Jubelo alright? He looks rather flustered.”

“Oh, don’t worry! He’s still a little crowd shy is all,” Wendell assured.

“Again? Your Highness, this is only the second village on our route.”

“I-I’ll be fine, Leiden! I’m getting used to it! …Or, trying to. I didn’t expect them to greet me so… warmly, though,” he mumbled through a pink face. If Yuliya was here she’d chide me for cowardice… although she doesn’t like crowds either.

Jubelo took his seat towards the front after Ogma helped him up. Roberto joined Leiden in the coach box, and after the latter handed him the reins he cracked them to set their carriage into motion. Ogma jogged up its right side until he reached the drivers, whereupon he matched its leisurely beat. Several villagers gathered at the gates to give them a fond farewell.

“Stay safe, Prince Jubelo!”
“Blessings be with you, Archbishop!”
“Give your prince my regards, Dame Kris!”
“Long live the Prince and Princess!”

Kris grinned and waved back before sitting next to Ryan. “Heehee! That was a pleasant little village! It almost reminds me of Sera and… are you okay, Prince Jubelo? You’re still trembling like a leaf.”

Although relieved to be free from the mob, it would take time to fully recover. He sat with his hands clenched in his lap, his chin down and his eyes tightly shut. Slow, deep breaths were disturbed by an occasional tremble that rattled down his whole body.

“I think he’s still shaken from the crowds, Kris. Leave him be for now,” Ryan suggested.

Wendell dug a pulsing blue shard out of his pocket and slipped it between the prince’s fingers. “Try holding this, Prince. Its energies might help balance your tumultuous feelings.”

Jubelo slowly worked the shard between his fingers. Though glassy in texture its edges were blunt, and it exuded a warm aura that made him feel light as air. I committed to this because I have to… no, because I can. I CAN make a good impression. I did twice, and I’ll do it again. Soon his breaths became smoother, and with another minute his eyes reopened. “Wow, I… feel much better!” He held up the shard and stared in amazement. “You were right, Master Wendell. This shard’s energies are so calming… is this the power of the Starsphere?”

“A small fraction. Alone, each shard molds its wielder in resonance with its sign. Carry it for prolonged periods and your talents will flourish… you may lag in accordance with the sign’s weaknesses, but its strengths may even exceed the full sphere’s blessing!” the archbishop exposited, holding up another shard. “United, they unlock unparalleled potential and enhance the wielder’s endurance so that they can reach it! You’ll tire much more slowly and your blade will keep its edge longer!”

Kris gasped. “Incredible! The Starsphere can do that!?”

“Yes, once it’s been restored. But the Prince experienced a different power, unique to that shard.” He pocketed the one, accepted Libra back and pointed to its pattern. “The Libra sign embodies harmony and compromise. It also happens that Libra has fantastic compatibility with Leo, the sign under which he and Princess Yuliya were born.”

Ryan nodded. “Aaah, I get it! So you thought it’d make a good comfort object!”

“Correct! And by the looks of it, my theory was right!”

Jubelo chuckled. “Haha, h-wow. I-I didn’t know these shards held that kind of power… but I don’t want to be too reliant on lucky charms. Still, thank you for lending me its energies… I’m, was, a little wound from meeting my people.”

“That’s because they were excited to see their next ruler safe and sound!” Kris exclaimed.

“Uh huh, I-I-I got that impression… I could have done without that old lady pinching my cheek,” he murmured, rubbing the side of his face and blushing.

Ryan laughed awkwardly. “Hehe, yeah, th-that kinda reminded me of Mom… I didn’t envy you, Jubelo. How about we block for you if anybody comes too close next time?”

“That would be appreciated, Ryan… but it’s more than that. You see, being surrounded by all those people, it… i-i-it makes me feel like I’m, in a battle.”

“I get it. You’re worried someone will get you out of nowhere and hurt you.” Jubelo nodded rapidly. Ryan’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I still feel that sometimes. Being an archer leaves me more vulnerable up close than my friends… Big Brother says it’s natural.”

“As is the fear of falling in battle. My grandfather said as much… everybody fears death to some extent. There’s no shame as long as you can make peace with it,” Kris assured. “If you feel more comfortable, Prince Jubelo, you’re welcome to fight by our side. We’ll all watch out for one another!”

Ryan agreed, “Yeah, that’s how I cope! Usually I don’t like crowds, but when I fall into formation everything becomes clearer… we’re still looking out for each other, to an extent. But most of our attention is on the enemy, not each other, so… it’s like I can focus more easily while still feeling safe.”

Leiden chimed in, “That is precisely what fighting in formation is about. Take note, Prince Jubelo. As a caster you’ll likely fill similar shoes to Sir Ryan.”

Jubelo smiled. “Mhm… thanks Ryan. You too, Kris. It feels good to have new friends while I’m still learning my way around.”

“Sure thing! We’re still learning our way around too, full-fledged knights or not.”

“Give it time, Ryan. And you too, Prince Jubelo! Even as Prince Marth’s Royal Guard I’m still learning new things!” Kris encouraging. “On a different note… Lord Wendell, that was a clever use of the Libra shard’s abilities. You must be very knowledgeable on the spheres!”

Wendell chuckled. “Oh, you’re too kind, Dame Kris! But I only know what Lord Gotoh taught me.”

“So almost as much as he knows.”

The archbishop blinked in surprise. “No, not nearly as much! Lord Gotoh stands on an entirely different level. He’s been around for centuries.”

“Centuries!?”

Jubelo asked, “Kris, you do know about Lord Gotoh, right? The legendary White Sage?”

She tapped her chin. “Well, I heard he can use magic to talk to people from afar, sometimes appearing in the sky without warning. I thought of him as a strange old man, if wise and powerful… it’d be a boon if he lent us that power without being so showy and… mysteriou… uh…” She seized up under the gawking stares she received, including Roberto and Leiden’s. “…I-I’m sorry, was I being rude?”

“Rude is right! Lord Gotoh is respected in all lands, even treated as a deity by some!” Roberto exclaimed.

Her blush grew brighter. “A-a deity?!”

“Yeah, his magic is incredible! Big Brother says he warped the whole Archanean League to bring about the war’s end faster! Twice!” Ryan added.

“Yeah! And he warped us to Grust on our birthday once! And, before that, I think he…” Jubelo clammed up over recalling those wretched memories. “…wh-when we were locked in that… t-tomb…”

Wendell gently patted his back. “Those days are far behind you, Prince… but good heavens, Dame Kris! Pardon my rudeness, but you seem woefully uninformed about the White Sage!”

She buried her face in her palms. “S-sorry Archbishop, I, don’t have much travel knowledge…” …I sure hope Lord Gotoh isn’t watching NOW!

“Kris is from a secluded village and only met Norne prior to enlisting. She’s been catching up on the world more than the rest of us,” Ryan explained. He tapped her shoulder when she nodded in shame. “H-hey. It’s been a learning experience for us all, you said it yourself.”

Seeing her fret took Jubelo’s mind off his trauma. “Yeah. Cheer up, Kris. We didn’t know much about Lord Gotoh either before Master Wendell taught us. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“I am always happy to educate another soul! Or if you prefer, try asking Linde. Her father was his star pupil and he’s given her lessons too, including on the spheres.”

Kris’s cheeks cooled and she raised her head. “Thank you, Lord Wendell. I think I’ll take you on int later. For now, let’s enjoy our tour… speaking of which. Sir Leiden, where is Sir Belf?”

“Yeah. His absence is pretty strange, I’m used to seeing you three together… no offense.”

“None taken, Your Highness. Sir Belf stayed at the keep to investigate a certain masked knight.”

“You mean Sir Sirius? …He’s not a wanted criminal or anything, is he?”

Leiden assured, “No Dame Kris, nothing of the sort. He’s a hero if anything for saving our lieges. However, he bears a strong resemblance to our late platoonmate, Camus.”

“Oh,” she muttered, as if slightly disappointed.

Jubelo, however, was more piqued by the name. “You mean General Camus!? That’s…” He thought back to their first encounter, and how Sir Sirius seemed vaguely familiar… blonde hair, deep firm voice, and a gallant yet imposing physique. Then there were his nicknames, Little Prince and Princess; nicknames the general once used. “…that, that must be what Yuliya and I saw! But Camus was supposed to have died two years ago. How can he be the same guy?”

“There are a handful of magics capable of resurrecting the dead, but they are incredibly rare and come with a price or limits. I doubt any were used on General Camus, especially when his body was taken by the river rapids. It is possible he survived though, if unlikely,” Wendell speculated.

“It’s suspicious when Gradivus was recovered successfully. Dames Palla and Catria found it in Valentia but made no mention of the man who wielded it,” Leiden said.

Roberto added, “Yeah, and that’s why Belf’s back there. He’s the best at this sort of thing. Leiden can be too cold and direct when questioning people, and I might get sidetracked.”

Wendell suggested, “Have you considered Linde? She’s Empress Nyna’s closest confidant, and-”

“We tried her yesterday. She had nothing to say on that masked knight, nor could she adequately explain Archanea’s turn for the worse,” Leiden interjected. Some “closest confidant” she turned out to be.

“…ah. Never mind then.”

Kris asked, “Well, what about your plan to help us out of Grust? Prince Marth and Sir Jagen mentioned it yesterday but didn’t provide details. Could Sir Belf be finalizing them with him too?”

“Nah, we already sorted that out,” Roberto replied.

“Huh? What plan?” Jubelo looked over his shoulder and asked, “I thought you were staying here to manage our recovery?”

“That was our priority. But given the danger you and Princess Yuliya will encounter, we thought it best to ensure you at least clear our borders. And it’d be unwise to discuss this out in the open, lest Archanea have ears we cannot see,” Leiden explained.

“Um… o-okay.”

Jubelo returned to his usual angle with a creeping sense of skepticism. While his friends spoke about other subjects, like Kris’s sortie yesterday or why Gordin declined to join their ride, he only vaguely followed. He couldn’t stop wondering what his knights were planning… Leiden’s description sounded ominous. Like he was not withholding it from some mystery spy, but to prevent him and Yuliya from knowing. That wouldn’t sit well with her and it didn’t with him… although it helped numb the buzz of their next tour stops, he would have preferred a more pleasant distraction.

Chapter Text

The Isle of Raman linked Grust to the mainland through a pair of bridges. On the north, Chiasmir Bridge was heralded as the kingdom’s greatest feat of engineering, its sheer traffic sprouting a prosperous trade hub on the island halfway across. It also saw extensive use for its primary purpose, granting pilgrims easy access to the sacred Fane of Raman. The southern crossing was less spectacular, a short hop across a narrower channel, but no less vital for land travel.

It took a few days’ march from Olbern to reach the southern crossing. Archanea had abandoned their posts by then, but the expedition knew they’d be concentrating further north. Their ship had arrived a day earlier, and to keep their ground force agile Prince Marth left half the army to travel by sail. It was a difficult decision for Jubelo and Yuliya to go separate ways… they had never truly been apart before. But Yuliya’s talents were needed on the front, and Jubelo could not endanger himself needlessly.  Although she had Caeda, Ogma, Master Wendell, Kris and more to protect her, he still worried for her. Nor did it help their absence made him lonelier… now, his closest friends were Marisha and the 7th Platoon.

“Hey Jubelo. You know if there’s a road from… hey! Princey!”

He snapped out of his trance. “Uuuh, yes!? Did you say something?”

“I asked if there was a clear path to the Fane. Someplace with less trees,” Luke repeated.

“Oh. Yeah, there’s a clearing west of the woods for carvans, but it’s flanked by high mountains. Grust also erected several forts nearby for border control.”

“And it’s likely that Archanea controls them,” Roderick surmised.

He snapped his fingers. “Dang. So much for that. Still wonder why Prince Marth brought Draug over any horses, though. Not even Sirius for that shambling pile of met-”

Cecil gawked. “Luke, have you even SEEN him fight!? You’d think he was light infantry with how fleet on his feet he is! I bet he’ll plow them all a path through the trees!”

Ryan dubiously replied, “I, uh, don’t think he can plow down a forest…”

“You got the fleet feet correct. Even if his armor hinders sustained marches, with the trees slowing everybody down Sir Draug will probably keep pace,” Roderick suggested.

“Mhm. Big Brother said he’s had harder times with woodland. Mainly because the old archery armor was clunky and, uh, pretty useless in his words,” Ryan added.

“But with Archanea there, he won’t miss another chance to save General Jeorge, right?” Cecil asked.

“Oh, no way! He said as much before we left! It’s why Prince Marth brought him too.”

“Yup, that makes sense.” She then flicked her headband tie and mulled, “Still, I wonder why Sir Sirius is staying here. If he really slew all those pirates he must be mad strong!”

“I think Sir Sirius said he didn’t want to go,” Jubelo said. He remembered overhearing the knight’s objections before they split. “I don’t know why though, so… listen I’m, gonna take a walk.”

“All right. We won’t stop you.”

He carefully lit a small fireball after exiting the cabin and headed towards the stairs. Linde offered sound advice earlier: “If it frightens you, mind your fear from the start. Let it set your limit until you gain the confidence, then it won’t have enough to run amok.” It only took two attempts to see results and really helped him manage smaller, more mundane casts. Now the flame would flicker down rather than swell uncontrollably if his nerves slipped… a crucial change with the wooden hull surrounding him.

Halfway up he extinguished it, and a cool seaward breeze greeted him as he stepped out onto the deck. It was dusk – the stars were starting to light up, and Jubelo reminisced about their stargazing nights at Khadein. The desert frequently enjoyed clear skies, and on a few privileged nights Master Wendell let them stay out late. He taught them the constellations, often focusing on the sign that ruled their month. Jubelo instinctively sought out Aries, the vernal equinox having recently passed… it wasn’t easy tracing the ram out of that vast ocean, though.

“Is something amiss, Prince Jubelo?”

He jumped but quickly registered that familiar baritone… calming down, he looked to his right. Save for his mask and blonde head, Sir Sirius blended in with the nightscape. “Oh, good evening Sir Sirius… no, I was just watching the stars. Like we did with Master Wendell.”

“Then you’re thinking about him and your sister?”

He slumped and admitted, “Y-yeah, I was… Ryan and his platoon are keeping me company, but it’s just not the same without them.”

“It’s only natural, Little Prince. All kin part ways at some point in their lives. In your case it won’t be longer than three days, and she’s under great care,” the knight assured.

“Hm. You’re right, I shouldn’t be too worried… thank you sir,” he replied, raising his gaze with greater optimism. Sirius’s words soon sparked his own question, and he asked, “Hey, Sir Sirius. You have family, right? Do you ever miss them?”

He glanced up and answered, “Sometimes I think of them, but they are now one with the stars.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Jubelo hid slight disappointment beneath his guilt, hoping he might’ve found clues about the knight’s identity.

“I do, however, have someone special to me. She’s seen me through my most challenging times, and though I didn’t leave on the best terms I trust we’ll mend things when I return.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You have a lover? …Is that why you opted to stay here?”

“No. I thought our ship should not be left unguarded. Even if Archanea has limited naval presence, we must maintain some measure of protection against raiders.”

Jubelo thought back to the Macedon Vikings. “Ah, fair… then, were you keeping watch?”

“Not quite. We can leave that to our lookouts. Instead, I was appreciating this.”

Sirius gestured to the boat’s port side, where Jubelo found a captivating view. A lighter sliver of blue stretched across the horizon and backlit Raman’s landscape – although the faint light and high contrast made detail near impossible to spot, there was beauty in its simplicity. He unconsciously wandered to the opposite rail to get a closer look, for it grew dimmer by the minute. “I, don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Grust like this…”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s even more enchanting under the golden hour’s glow, but the shadow box of twilight has its own charm,” Sirius mused with a smile.

The sun finally disappeared beneath the hills. Although Jubelo wished he’d been around to see it longer, what little he witnessed left him feeling satisfied.

“Be proud of it, Prince Jubelo. Although a kingdom is most known for its civil exploits, the land itself is its own treasure. You’d do well to protect it when you become king.”

“Mhm. I think I will.”

Indeed, he often forgot about Grust’s lush wilderness in the chaos. There was something for everyone, from the north’s dense woods to the south’s sprawling mountains, with rolling plains in-between. You’d even find an active volcano if you felt adventurous, and those looking for desert need only venture north. He and Yuliya ought to see more of it when things calmed down… call it a patrol or surveying expedition if she wanted it to be productive.

Hm. Maybe Sir Sirius also finds excuses to admire his lands… wait. What is his land even like? “Um, Sir Sirius? Since you like seeing nature, what do you find about your home… land…”

To his dismay, Sirius had already left. He walked towards the stairwell and heard footsteps approach, but a much shorter knight emerged.

“Ah! There you are Jubelo,” Ryan said with relief. “I was wondering if you were up here, and that knight said so on the way down.”

“Ryan? Of course, I’m fine… I was just taking a walk is all. Looking at the stars.”

“Thinking of Yuliya and Master Wendell, right?”

“Huh?” Jubelo looked surprised at first, and soon shifted to a dour expression. “Yeah, it’s something we used to do at Khadein together.”

Ryan also frowned. “I know that feeling. When Big Brother was away, I sometimes went out looking at the night sky.” He stared upwards, with the prince following suit, and continued, “I couldn’t do it often with Dolhr around and couldn’t go far in case somebody came along. But I felt restless after being stuck inside for so long, and… well, maybe I was looking for a sign he was still out there.”

“You were apart for three years, right?”

“Mhm. I didn’t have many friends, and we didn’t have many chances to see each other, so I was really holding out hope for him. Mom and Pop thought he was gone but I know they must have been praying in the back of their minds.” Ryan rolled his gaze back down with a bright smile. “And look how that turned out! He came back with all the other Altean knights, older and coming into his own as an archer! If they made it three years, I’m sure Yuliya will be fine after three days!”

Jubelo looked down and chuckled. “Hehe, yeah. Maybe I’m worrying too much… although I don’t think she’ll be that different after just three days.”

“And she’s got plenty of being looking after her, too!” Ryan’s excitement faded as he settled into a more serious face. “But on the topic of being different…”

“Hm? Is something bothering you, Ryan?”

“A little. It’s great having him back and learning how to wield a bow and be knights with him. But…” He gazed over the starboard railing and explained, “…after training under Master Jeorge it feels like he has this… new direction. Like, his own goals, separate from everybody else.”

“Do you think he’s avoiding you because of them?”

“Sort of. He’s there when I need him, but I see him less outside of that. It’s not just me either – Draug and Norne say he spends less time with them too when they’re not doing their jobs. And well, he emphasizes that he wants me coming into my own too, as he puts it.”

Jubelo’s eyes widened. “…You too, Ryan?”

“Huh? Me too… oh, right. Your sister… yeah, I guess it’s like that. But he doesn’t badmouth me or call me a kid. He’s more… encouraging. Genuinely. But still a bit more, uh…”

“Stern?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Like, halfway between our parents and his usual self.” His gaze sank lower and his frown deepened. “I know I can’t stay in his shadow forever, but, being pushed out of it is…”

“Scary?”

Ryan paused and looked back up. “…Yeah, that’s about it.”

“I feel the same. Yuliya’s pushing me to become King and Commander and a better ruler than our father, but it’s hard. We lost several years of our childhood, and she’s always spoken up for both of us.”

“So it’s not easy stepping up and being your own person. But you were born Prince of Grust, and you gotta do what you gotta do. That’s how it is, right?”

Jubelo nodded with an awkward smirk, and Ryan mirrored his smile… soon they were both giggling, until it evolved into a brief shared laugh.

“Haha… I-I never thought I’d relate to a crown prince,” Ryan admitted through chuckles.

Jubelo settled down with one final giggle. “Yeah, me neither. But we’re both trying in our own ways. If I can grow to be king then I think you’ll do fine as a knight, Sir Ryan.”

Ryan blushed and beamed. “Hmhm! I’m still getting used to that title! …Thanks for listening to me, Prince Jubelo. I usually talk with Kris on this sort of thing, and I needed another set of ears.”

“You’re welcome. I needed somebody to talk to too… hey, if you have anything else you can’t confide in your brother, you can come to me. Deal?” Jubelo offered, extending a hand.

“You too! Deal!”

Their handshake was loose, neither used to putting weight behind it, but that was okay. Ryan looked far more relaxed as they resumed gazing into the heavens, and Jubelo felt better too. It was reassuring to know somebody else had questions about his big sibling.

Yuliya’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. “This is… it’s appalling!”

Countless tales told of the sacred Fane’s splendor, and she and Jubelo yearned to visit it after previous flyovers. If only they did so earlier… the temple’s watch were driven away by Archanea’s hostility, and thieves capitalized on their withdrawal. Everything valuable and light enough to carry had been stolen; even the walls had empty sockets from which decorations were pried! Only debris from smashed doors or artifacts and the burglars’ garbage remained, strewn across the floor. In some places the masonry was damaged for no clear cause, as if meant solely to defile it further.

Witnessing such thorough desecration left her breathing lividly. “Why… how, how could anyone do such a thing? To Naga’s resting place!?”

“Jagen said the Divine King must be seething at this indignation. I agree… thieving for survival is one thing. Vandalizing the place to these lengths is despicable,” Caeda said contemptuously.

“Despicable is putting it lightly! This temple ought to be rebuilt from the ground up! Raze it after rounding up those who-”

Caeda grabbed her shoulder. “Yuliya. That’s enough. Most of the culprits are dead anyway.”

“But…” She paused a few seconds to heave and prepare a strong response. When none came, her shoulders and head sank forth in dismay. “…haaaaah… let’s just go.” Master Wendell will be so upset when he sees this… I wonder if that’s how that fire dragon lost its mind.

She recalled that dragon accosting them while they were preparing to cross the woods. Grust was once home to small clans, remnants of the Salamander Tribe who made their home in the Firelands. Most left to join Dolhr and the rest were later expelled by association. Perhaps this one survived in hiding, or wanted to return home after the empire crumbled; seeing its holy place ransacked or used as barracks might’ve driven it to madness. Most manaketes resided in more remote areas, and wild dragons save for stray wyverns were extirpated from these parts. The beast also dropped a dragonstone on its death… it was a chilling possibility that haunted her until she saw the sun again.

Prince Marth and Sir Jagen waited at the bottom of the stairs. They matched the princess’s solemnity when she and Caeda returned. “I know. It’s depressing seeing it gutted like a carcass. I tried to be respectful when we last visited,” the prince lamented.

“We’ll do something to restore it after this conflict ends. I promise,” Caeda swore.

“Good.” She lightly shook her head to ward off the gloom and restore her usual mien. “Then let’s focus on the now. We’re still waiting on the others to make it through the woods, right?”

“Yes. Navarre and Ogma are watching our western front while Warren, Catria and that dancer guide our troops and convoy through the forest.” A frustrated “MOVE!” echoed from Gordin, presumably as he and Draug navigated the foliage. Jagen proceeded, “Once everybody is accounted for, we’ll cross Chiasmir Bridge. You did say another shard was waiting there, correct?”

“Two, actually. I remember another halfway between here and there.”

“We’re on it. Palla saw a suspicious figure loitering ahead and went to confront him. She and Caeda think he’s either a scout or an opportunist,” Marth replied.

Yuliya raised her staff and muttered a quick verse to check. She detected the shard’s energy and saw the pegasus knight closing in on its carrier. “You were right. He has it.”

“Then our objective remains that final shard. Once we have it, we’ll continue north and regroup with our ship, then sail for Khadein. As a neutral city on good terms with Archanea, Archbishop Wendell believes it’ll offer us brief refuge while we plan our next move,” Jagen stated.

She gestured west and flatly asked, “One question: how are we getting past Astram’s blockade? They’re not right in front of it, but the minute we try and cross, they can…” She paused as shouting erupted from their direction. Panicking she looked west, but to her bewilderment the free knights started moving south. “Huh? Why are they going that way?”

“That must be Sir Belf’s platoon. Right on cue.”

“Sir Belf!?”

Hastily she raised her staff again, and its magic showed a mortifying scene: Sirs Belf, Leiden and Roberto led a ragtag band of Grust’s remnant knights and peasants. Astram’s Free Knights met them head-on, and the difference in power was immediate – three poorly dressed minutemen at the front were swiftly cut down. It was practically a fighting retreat for them, with only Sir Ymir and the ex-Sable Knights able to put up a real fight against the elite swordsmen.

“What are they doing?! At this rate they’ll-” A sudden jerk wrest her from her spell, and she gave a look of utter betrayal to the culprit. “Caeda!?”

“I’m sorry Yuliya. We didn’t like it, but they knew you and Jubelo would object if you heard. They insisted you make it out of Grust safely… no matter the cost. Please, you can’t interfere,” she urged, almost on the verge of tears from seeing the little princess’s eyes water.

Marth shook his head morosely. “I tried to get them to reconsider, but they wouldn’t hear it.”

“Tis the hardest duty a knight must prepare for. You’re aware of this, sire,” Jagen solemnly said, clamping his prince’s shoulder. “Princess Yuliya, know that they had you and Prince Jubelo’s wellbeing in mind.”

Yuliya dropped to her knees and muttered, “W-why… sniff… so soon, after… hic… w-why must, more, of our countrymen… nnnn… throw their lives away… i-in front of…” She fell silent when a pair of hands wrapped around her shoulders and eased her into a gentle embrace.

“I know Yuliya. We’ve been there too,” Caeda whispered before easing her off and locking eyes. Despite her tears, the elder princess’s eyes displayed hardened resolve. “And now it’s up to us to ensure their sacrifice isn’t for naught. We need you in the here and now. Are you ready to do your part?”

She snorted away the remaining mucus, wiped across her eyes with her sleeve and regained her determined glower. “I’m ready, Princess Caeda. What do you need?”

“We need to know exactly what’s waiting on the other side of that bridge. Palla, Catria and I spotted another garrison at a distance but we couldn’t risk a closer look.”

After Caeda helped the pair back onto their feet, she responded, “Say no more. I’m on it… huh?”

To her surprise, those helping hands also grabbed her staff. “Relax. I trust you. Linde has a theory that others might be able to tune in while you cast your spell. Something about white magic’s empathic nature… can I try it out?” Caeda requested.

Yuliya raised an eyebrow but conceded, “For you, sure. We’ll see if it works. Now close your eyes and repeat after me… Guardian angel from above…”

While having another chanting with her felt strange, Caeda kept her voice low so that it wouldn’t distract her. Something Yuliya was grateful for with all the background noise… beyond that, the experience wasn’t too different. When their surroundings came into view she asked, “Do you see it, Caeda?”

“The temple? Yes, I see it Yuliya. And the bridge to our northwest… can you take us north?”

Such a request was trivial for her. All she needed was to will it, and their frame of view shifted up the bridge. Palla on her return flight passed through before Yuliya stopped on the islland, the shard she recently appropriated pulsing strongly; a similar signature from further north confirmed the other was close. Save for the lone thief’s corpse the island was vacant: no soldiers, and its residents wisely stayed indoors. Yuliya was about to proceed until a thought occurred to her. “Hey, Caeda. How about you try moving it? All you have to do is think in a direction.”

“I’ll try…” A few seconds passed and nothing happened. Caeda tried repeating the incantation but it still didn’t change. “I don’t think I can influence it. You’ll have to direct it yourself.”

That was okay. I’d rather not have tug-of-wars with my magic. Satisfied with her experiment, Yuliya traced their view across the bridge. Curiously, a lone armor knight stood guard, but the mainland showed more activity: several paladins patrolled the grounds with a sniper standing watching nearby. The shard’s signature homed her in on a second, higher-ranking sniper occupying a newly erected garrison. Focusing in, his blonde hair, intricate red attire and magnificent bow became more apparent.

“That’s him. General Jeorge. And I think he’s wielding Parthia. Now how about the northeast?”

She elevated their view and scrolled east. A battalion of heavy infantry stood around a helmetless knight with a fur collar and ornate lance. He also had this strange aura about him… its signature was similar to the Starsphere shards, but exuded a sense of malevolence. Yuliya felt dread even from this distance.

Caeda gasped. “That’s Gradivus… Yuliya, that must be Emperor Hardin!”

Hearing that gave her goosebumps. THAT’S the Emperor of Archanea? Against her better judgment she tried to focus in… a sharp pain erupted from her temples as the malice overwhelmed her. She dropped her staff, clutched her head and screamed in agony. “AAAAAAAAAGH!”

“YULIYA!?”

The splitting pain began to dull the moment her spell broke, but her vision blurred and clouded with tears. She felt a hand on her shoulder… it was Master Wendell, kneeling beside her and worried sick. Across from her Prince Marth knelt to comfort Caeda, who winced while pinching the bridge of her nose. Jagen stayed upright but was clearly concerned as he hovered over them, and past the archbishop she spotted a few allies looking this way.

“Are you alright, Princess Yuliya? What happened!?” Wendell asked.

“I… I don’t know. Emperor Hardin has this… strong, evil aura about him! I couldn’t… haahh…” She had to pause and catch her breath. “…you felt it too, right Caeda?”

“Agh… yes. I don’t know what it is, but he’s dangerous… Marth, we must be careful. Beyond the bridge, Hardin is waiting with… a small, elite battalion.”

Marth wore a look of shock and disbelief. “Caeda, are you sure-”

“Prince Marth, you saw our agony! She means it! Hardin is dangerous!” Yuliya snapped.

After ten seconds of staring in silence, he replied. “…O-okay, Princess… what else?”

“The other shard we’re looking for is at the garrison to the north. General Jeorge has it.” She turned to the army, where the last of their convoy personnel were emerging. Gordin was helping Draug pick branches out of his armor but was eyeing her direction. “Did you hear that, sir?”

“You got it. We’ll be ready to march in a minute!”

“Get the supply convoy to the bridge first. We’ll leave them at Chiasmir so that they can board the ship, then we’ll advance on the fort,” Marth ordered, helping Caeda to her feet. “Jagen.”

The veteran promptly began organizing their march formation, soon aided by the prince. Wendell helped Yuliya up and the pair moved to join them until Caeda stepped in front. “One minute, Yuliya. There’s something peculiar about that lone knight guarding the bridge. May I have another look?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded to Wendell and separated from him. “All right. But we are NOT getting another close-up of the Emperor!”

“Agreed. All I want to see is the bridge. Nothing else.” Before accepting the shaft however, she checked west and warned, “Navarre! I said ten-meter radius!”

The mercenary grunted a curt “Hmph” before putting another sidestep between himself and Ogma.

Once she had a solid grip, the princesses shut their eyes and Yuliya led them through the incantation. Yuliya directed their gaze over the army, up the first bridge and stopped halfway over the second. Upon closer inspection she noticed something offensive about his armor… it was Grustian in make, and the crest of Archanea was crudely placed over where her sigil belonged.

Meanwhile, Caeda focused on his stout build, round face and pink hair. “Oh! That’s Roger!”

She cancelled the spell and opened an eye, annoyed by her peer’s excitement.

“Sir Roger is a knight of Grust. We met him at Port Warren and I persuaded him to our cause.”

Yuliya stomped her foot furiously. “You’re telling me he betrayed his kingdom before? And now he dares side with our oppressors!?”

Caeda brought up her hands and urged, “Whoa, hold on Yuliya! Roger is a good man! He betrayed Grust to aid us against Dolhr, just as Lorenz did eventually.”

While she tried to vouch for the turncoat, Yuliya spotted Prince Marth past her shoulder. He had an exasperated response to Caeda calling him a good man.

“I’m sure he has reasons for siding with Archanea. He heard me out before, and if I talk to him again…”

“No. You will bring me to him and I will confront him! This is personal!”

Chapter Text

What was otherwise a normal spring day became a nerve-wracking affair. Roger was tasked with heading defense of the northern bridge to affirm his new loyalty, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Astram’s Free Knights were stationed to the south, cornering him if he had second thoughts. But the most immense pressure came from what lurked behind: a battalion of Archanea’s elite knights commanded by Emperor Hardin himself. His regal stature alone would make Roger’s knees weak, and it was compounded by this sinister, scathing sentiment he felt. The simple armor knight had no clue what or why that was; only that it left him on the brink of a leak.

What misfortune then that the rogue Altean Army was headed this way. Roger fondly remembered all the pretty women in Prince Marth’s entourage, with one in particular who gave him a change of heart. Something greater to fight for. One whom he longed to meet again… not here though, not now. Not when he was sweltering in his suit and on the verge of soiling himself, feeling smaller than ever when he wanted to look big and proud at their reunion.

He thought he was in the clear when a pegasus knight flew in from the south and turned around after slaying a rogue character. It was a false reprieve… not long after, he saw a column approaching from the southern bridge. Ahead of them flew another pegasus rider, this one having long blue hair instead of green. He gulped as his worst fear was coming true. Sweet Naga above, it’s her… … …but I can’t give up now. I have to be strong! For her! A-and for Archanea!

As she descended, he tried to stiffen his trembling body and took a few steps forward. “E-e-excuse me miss, b-but, this bridge is closed to-”

“Good day, Sir Roger. How have you been lately?” she asked amicably while dismounting.

“Uuuuuh, I’ve been fine… P-Princess, Caeda.” As he fiddled for the right words he observed her help a blonde child seated behind her down, glowering at him the whole time.  “…Uh, who’s that with you?”

“A good friend of mine.”

“I’ll speak for myself!” she interjected, stomping in front of him and demanding, “Sir Roger, have you forgotten your own princess?”

“Own, princ-eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEHH…” His trepidation turned to full-blown panic when he realized just whom he was talking to. “…w-wait! You’re Princess Yuliya!?”

“That’s right! I am Yuliya Lisbet von Grunia! And I demand to know why you, a knight of Grust, are serving the same people responsible for pillaging our kingdom!”

“D-I-I, um… w-w-well… ahhh…” He scrambled wildly for several seconds before shifting to a nervous grin. “…aaah-I was, doing it for you! You and all the lovely ladies of Grust! Someone had to stand with ‘em and make a good impression! Show unity! I, I thought by being strong in front of the ladies, I might… uuuh…”

Yuliya grimaced more intensely the longer he dragged on. The cracks in his façade were spreading fast, and it didn’t help that Princess Caeda shook her head in dismay. Roger, I told her you were a good man…

“Ah, hahaha, I… w-what I meant was…” He abruptly tossed his lance and shield aside before dropping to his knees. “…I-I’m sorry! I had no choice! Archanea already rules the world… NO ONE can challenge them! … I-i-if I, didn’t fall in line behind the strong, General Lang would-”

“That’s a lie! Archanea is not invincible, and General Lang is no more!”

Roger fell silent and raised his head. “…a-are you serious?”

“You want proof, talk to some of our soldiers! Dig his ashes out of Olbern’s latrines if you need tangible evidence!” She clutched her staff tightly like a mace and threatened, “Or must I send yours down there with him? Do you understand the blasphemy you’ve committed, kissing the feet of those who rape our country because you thought it might make you look tough!?”

He lowered his head again and clasped his hands in prayer. “I-I’M SORRY, Princess! PLEASE! Spare my life! I-I’ll do anything in my power to-” He paused when a staff bump prodded his noggin.

“Enough! If you want to redeem yourself then pick up your lance, pick up your miserable hide and fall in line with the people to whom we’re indebted! Now, march!” she demanded, pointing to their army.

Roger scrambled for his equipment and stood back up. “Y-y-yes, Princess! R-right away, Princess!”

“I said MARCH!!”

After the beleaguered knight rattled past them, Yuliya turned towards Caeda with a jubilant grin and asked, “How was that?”

She shrugged, smirked and snorted trying to hold back laughter. “H-I, would have been more gentle with him, but your approach works to-” A sudden nudge from her pegasus’s snout startled her.

“PRINCESS CAEDA! PRINCE MARTH!”

“What!? That’s…” She looked ahead and gasped, “Cain!?”

Facing north, Yuliya saw a cavalier dressed in red and with light injuries charging frantically toward them, soon pursued by three Archanean paladins. Jagen ordered, “Cover fire!”

A glowing arrow leaving a golden trail streaked overhead.

“Aura!”

At Linde’s command the arrow exploded in a brilliant yet terrifying burst, scattering light chiefly along its trajectory. It did little harm but stopped the paladins in their tracks, spooking their horses enough for two to get bucked off. Yuliya was also stupefied, barely registering when Caeda pulled her aside to make room for Ogma and the rest of their troops.

“Move! Before they regroup!”

She watched them pass one-by-one. Ogma was first, followed closely by Draug, then Barst and Gordin in turn. Roger trailed them, his steps still stiff, prodded by the stoic Warren. Navarre and Julian catwalked on opposite rails to skip the crowds, the former pouncing upon the knight Ogma was about to engage. Caeda tapped her shoulder and quietly directed her to Cain, and the cleric mumbled a Heal spell while he addressed his liege and Sir Jagen.

“I’m glad you made it through unharmed, Cain,” Marth said.

“Unharmed?” He looked down at his torso to see its wounds healing. “Ah, close enough. Yes, I managed to break past in one piece. The other escapees are on the ship, but you must hurry, sire! Emperor Hardin is already mobilizing his forces!”

“We’ve made it through tight situations before.”

“No sire, this is different! We cannot win! I hear the Emperor is protected by some strange force…”

“Is it a dark, sinister presence that drains all the fight from you on sight?”

All eyes turned toward Linde, who waited on standby alongside Kris. Cain answered, “I only caught a brief glimpse but, yeah. Gave me chills for that moment. Something’s off about him.”

Marth appeared crestfallen at Hardin’s change being brought up again, but the knight continued, “We don’t have time to mull on it. Kris, Linde, help clear Prince Marth a path!” As they hurried past, he turned to his prince and stated, “And you, sire, must escape at once! Our boat is moored north past the fortress. It’s an unmarked vessel with a clear shot for open water!”

“Cain, I won’t leave everyone behind!”

He gripped the prince’s shoulders and urged, “Prince Marth, this is no time to argue! Emperor Hardin is dead set on you! Forget about us, lest Altea’s bloodline-”

Jagen pushed them apart. “Enough! Prince Marth has a point. He must escape, but he cannot rebuild on his own! We’ll get him to your ship, but first we must anchor ours so that everyone else can evacuate. It’ll be easier to relay to the locals with the Prince directing our landing.”

“But how will he make up for-”

“I was getting to that Cain, don’t interrupt! Princess Yuliya will retrieve him once that is arranged.”

“Princess…?” He directed his gaze downward confused when Jagen motioned to the anxious girl.

Caeda stepped in-between and quickly introduced, “Cain, this is Princess Yuliya of Grust. Her Rescue staff’s a reverse Warp. Yuliya, Sir Cain of Altea.” She then rushed to her pegasus and bounded on. “I’ll help direct our landing and give you the signal! Astram’s group has their hands full with Grust’s knights, so focus on the north!” She took off, and while flying overhead shouted, “Catria! I need you too!”

Yuliya was silent through the whole exchange. Sir Cain circled his horse and charged towards a gap in their formation, alerting his comrades with a battle cry. He struck down a rider before letting their infantry take the fore again. At Jagen’s direction she slowly joined their backline, still trying to catch up with everything around her. The last times things got this intense she had Jubelo by her side… here, she was alone. It was so overwhelming without him… she couldn’t even force a brave face!

At least Master Wendell was here. He stood towards the rear of their formation and looked back as she drew near, his expression very serious. “Let’s tread carefully, Princess. It’s perilous ahead.”

She nodded and raised her Physic staff, a second Julian found by chance in the dragon’s cave. “All-seeing eye from above, please answer my prayer…”

Muttering the incantation revealed a vague map of their formation. It lacked the detail of Rescue, and she couldn’t identify their enemies; but she could sense where everybody stood, and how bright their life force shone. By tracking the front and paying attention to flashes of damage she could extrapolate where their foes were. She remembered most of them being heavy armor, anyway.

At first, the frontline appeared uniform. One variable was Palla, flitting to the east and taking opportunistic swoops to soften their formation. It was the one person she could track by eye, being unable to see over their comrades’ wall.

“Move it! Shake it! Waves those staffs!”

Somehow that dancer’s perky cheers helped her focus, obnoxious as they are.

Wendell mentioned, “Sir Draug is looking worn down.”

“Got it, Master.”

Draug was practically a fixture on the front. Reinforced by his armor, he endured greater punishment than anybody else… Roger held well too despite his cowardice. Kris, Ogma and Barst had to rotate in and out. Gordin mostly hung in the middle behind Draug, but frequently dipped forward a moment before backing up. Is he trying to make a run for General Jeorge?

It became more frequent when the line finally shifted. Catria assisting in Palla’s harassment put their eastern flank under increasing pressure, and a well-placed Aura to the west let the expedition wedge forward. The line didn’t break though, and Yuliya started to worry Gordin was being reckless; nor could she afford to drop healing duty to pull him back.

A loud snap startled her, followed by Julian landing next to her – on his feet and unharmed, but shaken. “Yow! That sniper’s got a good eye!”

Sniper!? Now she remembered: a second sniper was patrolling the grounds with the paladins. He must be what’s slowing their advance… she conjured Physic again, ready to counteract his shots and track her comrades. Gordin was moving more aggressively, no doubt trying to get a clean shot before-

“GAAAAGH!!”

That mortifying scream made Yuliya go pale. “Sir Gordin?!”

She dropped Physic and immediately searched for a gap. Wendell called, “Wait, Princess Yuliya!”

It fell on deaf ears. Her teacher wouldn’t stop her, nor would Cain’s horse, nor anyone else in the mob. After wiggling her way close to the front, Yuliya found the archer crawling on his side for shelter, with Draug shifting to the left bridge post to cover him. He had an arrow embedded in his neck just above the left shoulder blade, with blood trickling out around it.

When he saw her terrified stare he hissed, “Rrrrgh, relax Princess. I had to make it sound convincing…” …it still hurt like heck, though… “…just, get this arrow outta my shoulder, okay?”

She got on her knees and held up her Mend staff while he dragged himself upright against the bridge’s railing. “Light of the gods, enriched by our craft, PLEASE pull this arrow free!”

Under the bulb’s glow, flesh began to mend and Yuliya slowly drew the arrow from his wound. Gordin took over when it was nearly out, and he exhaled deeply when the wound finally closed. “Hah. Thanks, Princess Yuliya. Now get back to the rear. I’ll take care of the sniper.”

“Should you be this far ahead, sir?”

“Yes. I’m not giving up on Master Jeorge, and-”

“HURRRGH…!”

That groan came from Ogma, following the brief thunk of an arrow digging into his arm. When they renewed eye contact, Gordin wore a determined glower. “…and now that I’m off his sights, I’m not letting him hit anyone else!” He traded his bow for another leaning on the rail, grabbed a second arrow and reiterated, “Now get going!”

Yuliya nodded, stood back up and started sneaking away. The cacophony of war became more apparent now that a life wasn’t desperately on the line – weapon crashing against weapon, armor against armor. The frantic shouts of friend and foe alike coordinating on the fly was also dizzying.

“BACK!”

That curt shout from Gordin had her scrambling back toward the front, and what she saw around Draug’s shield surprised her: the enemy sniper collapsed after being struck by two arrows. Gordin then ran out from around his partner, leaving behind his bow but with a clear path to the fortress. It was a stunning reversal of what brought her forward in the first place. Did he really just-

A hand suddenly seized her upper arm. “Yuliya, get back here!”

His patience worn out, Wendell dragged her back to the rear. Upon seeing his aggravation Yuliya replied, “I’m sorry, Master Wendell. I, thought Sir Gordin might have been killed…”

“I understand your worries, Princess, but you could have been killed! I don’t know what I would have said to Prince Jubelo if we lost you out there… please, no more risks. Stay here until-”

“Princess Yuliya! We have the signal!”

The pair looked up, and Jagen directed their gaze to Princess Caeda in the southeast. She waved her Wing Spear up and down as if imitating a cleric’s staff. Jagen called, “Cain! How goes the front?”

“The snipers have been neutralized sir, and we have their armor at bay! Prince Marth has a clear shot to the fort… Kris! Bring Princess Yuliya forward!”

Wendell sighed, let her go and returned to praying over Physic. Yuliya stowed away her Mend and brought out Rescue while Kris slipped through to retrieve her, and as the Royal Guard escorted her forward she prepared the incantation. “Guardian Angel from above…”

Prince Marth stood in plain sight on the island, halfway between the village and the weapon shop. Draug stepped out to extend the wall further, and once there was room she gave the final command. The Altean prince materialized from that familiar streak of light and greeted, “Thank you, Princess Yuliya. Kris, how goes about advance?”

“The fort is just ahead, sire, and it appears General Jeorge is still on our side… heehee! Look!”

Yuliya glanced around them towards the fort, where the Archanean general playfully ruffled Gordin’s hair. They turned and waved as Marth strolled ahead with Cain and Kris to meet them. Gordin had a new silver bow in his left hand, and sent her a smile and nod when he spotted her with the group. It felt strange… he looked so happy despite everything they’d just been through. Part of her wanted to relax, but she still had reservations about…

“MAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRTH!!”

All activity screeched to a halt. Yuliya felt chills, as did everyone else while their attention turned to the northeast. Emperor Hardin and his personal guard had stayed back most of the battle, but now that Prince Marth arrived he walked forward slowly, menacingly. In his right hand he clutched the mighty Gradivus, although he’d be plenty imposing without it – he stood taller than anyone in Marth’s army, dressed in regal armor and wearing a fierce scowl that seemed frozen on his ghastly pale face.

“Hehehe… it’s about time you showed up, Prince Marth. You kept me waiting for far too long!”

His gravelly voice distorted to a more demonic tone as an eerie purple aura began radiating from him. The skies appeared to darken around them, and Marth took a wavering step back as he stared in horror at what his friend had become. “H, H, H-Hardin?”

“Is that all you can say to your emperor, princeling? Two years apart, and that’s all you have to offer your so-called friend?” he taunted, his eyes turning a searing red as his sneer flipped to a grimace. “Pathetic. Just like the rest of your little friendship gestures.”

“H-Hardin, what’s going on? Why did Archanea attack Altea!? What could compel such an act!?” Marth pleaded. “Surely you must have realized General Lang was-”

“Lang was just a pawn, Prince Marth. A relict of my kingdom’s rot meant to flush you out. He served his purpose, cornering you here like a rat and leaving your realm easy pickings,” he explained coldly. “I would have gotten rid of him in time, just as I shall dispose of you here and now.”

Marth looked so betrayed. “…H-Hardin… why!? I don’t believe this… how? How could you do such a thing!? Have you truly changed this much!?”

“Prince Marth, I am this world’s ruler. Emperor of the Holy Archanean Empire. I will show no quarter to anyone who opposes me… that includes you, Prince.”

While his prince was distracted with the emperor, Cain signaled to the southeast. He then turned toward northwest and yelled, “DARROS, WEIGH ANCHOR! GET THAT SHIP MOVING!”

“Hardin, no! I would never! I thought we trusted-”

“SILENCE!”

His voice echoed to the crack of thunder. Storm clouds began swirling over the emperor as his dark aura flared even hotter, the skin on his face wrinkling tighter.

“The order our forefathers sired has spoiled beyond salvation. I will destroy this foul world and rebuild it anew…” He pointed Gradivus towards Marth and stated, “…and you are at its center, Prince Marth.”

Marth was speechless.

“Playtime is over. All soldiers, CHARGE! Execute Prince Marth! Don’t leave a single traitor alive!”

The emperor’s guard began charging behind him, and the remaining armors in front renewed their assault. Cain turned to his prince and urged, “Sire, you must go! The enemy is closing in!”

“Cain, I can’t just leave you behind! Not while everyone is still fighting!”

“Prince Marth, it’s you they’re after. You go and it’ll throw them into confusion,” Jeorge suggested.

“How can you be so sure when- huh!?”

Marth flinched when Cain, Kris and Gordin hoisted him off the ground by the waist. Two pegasus knights grabbed his shoulders and carried him off. “Caeda? Catria? What are you doing!?”

“This is for your own good, Prince Marth! You need to get out of here!” Catria implored.

“We’ll be fine, Prince Marth! Sir Cain and I will see that everyone escapes!” Kris promised.

“Kris, I…” Marth froze and his eyes went wide. “Caeda! Catria! Down! NOW!”

“Marth, we’re not…” Her jaw dropped when she saw the incoming spear. “CATRIA! LOWER!”

Their pegasi dove just as Gradvius flew overhead.

“How the hell did he-!?”
“Less yapping more flapping!”

Hardin scowled as Gradivus reappeared in his clutches. “Grrrrr, you won’t be so lucky next time, Prince! All units, pursue Prince Marth!”

“But Your Eminence! They’re boarding a-”

“Did you not hear me, imbecile!? Our priority is the Prince!” He turned toward his guard and ordered, “One of you! Fetch me my horse!”

Yuliya stared blankly, her jaw hanging slack over what she just witnessed. For all the pain he caused, Lang was ultimately just a man. He buckled when the odds shifted even slightly against him and crumpled when cornered by those strong enough to oppose him. Emperor Hardin was a monster, both in power and presence… scoping him from afar already left her weak-kneed, and up close his tremendous might left her feeling smaller than ever. He hurled Gradivus hundreds of meters like a ballista bolt and nearly struck down Prince Marth then and there. Then there was what Cain and Linde said about that strange, malevolent force that enveloped him, turning all resistance to fear. Could they possibly stand up against this beast… could anyone? What if he postponed his hunt and decided to finish what Lang-

“Yuliya! Run!”

Gordin’s voice roused her from her stupor, and she saw him motioning her to get away. He held an arrow in place by the tip with his guide finger, while Jeorge was already drawing his. To her right the sounds of battle became apparent again; Archanea’s armor line had thinned, but those still standing kept their comrades occupied and a few from Hardin’s personal battalion were on the way. Ogma glanced back and snarled for her to move while helping Draug and Barst hold the line.

“Princess Yuliya, let’s go!”

It was Wendell’s call, gentler than before but still urgent, that prompted her to finally move. She spun around and started running, but slowed while passing Linde and stopped to look back. Something was wrong… she wasn’t contributing to the fight or trying to escape. Instead, she stood frozen, shaking like a branch in the wind with this disturbing thousand-yard stare. “Um, Linde?”

“Those voices… th-that, h-hoo-oorrible laughter…”

Yuliya had no clue what she was muttering – all she knew was this wasn’t the time to be scared stiff. She pulled the mage’s elbow and yelled, “Hey! Snap out of it!”

Linde convulsed. “Huh!?” She frantically searched left and right before spinning around to Yuliya.

“Let’s go! We need to get out of here!”

“Ah, r-right! Let’s go then!”

Even while retreating with her and Master Wendell, she still wore this worried frown and appeared distant, barely paying enough attention to track herself. “What is with you?” Yuliya growled.

“It’s, uh… you saw him! You think I’m thrilled about Lady Nyna being anywhere near that monster!?”

Though indignant to her snappy response, Yuliya declined to bite back. This was no time to argue… behind them the others started clustering onto the bridge, and Cain was catching up fast. To their left they saw their ship anchored on the island’s north side, where Jubelo waved from the stern.

“Come on! Hurry!” he shouted.

Yuliya couldn’t possibly express her relief. “Relax, Brother! We’ll be there short-”

“Traitors! You will not escape!”

“Huh? Who’s…”

As the trio rounded the north bridge’s rail, a shout from the south caught their attention. The skirmishing drifted north again, and one of the Free Knights broke away to pursue them. He had blonde hair, green armor and a sword that seemed to glow orange as he charged furiously across the bridge.

Linde gasped. “That’s Sir As-” A horse suddenly galloped past them. “Whoa! What the-!?”

Sir Arran deposited Sir Sirius at the southern bridge’s mouth before facing the north, just as Cain reached its mouth. “Sir Arran? What are you doing?”

“I’ll give their armor something to poke at while you escape! Tell the others I did not run!”

Cain gasped despondently, “Sir Arran, I…” Courage soon returned, and he nodded. “…I understand. Altea shan’t forget your valor!” While his peer rode off, he glanced south. “And you, sir…”

“Sirius. Sir Sirius. I’ll hold this bridge while you evacuate! Now go!”

Cain cantered beside the boarding ramp to see everybody on. Before facing south again, Sirius looked to the princess with a smile and gave a confident nod, then raised his lance and braced himself. Yuliya stared back sadly. Is he really planning to stay behi-

A tug from Master Wendell got her moving again. “Princess, this is no time to dawdle!”

“Yes. Astram is one of Archanea’s best swordsmen and he’s carrying Mercurius. He’ll kill us all if he gets the chance! If Sirius wants to stall him then let’s honor it,” Linde concurred. It’s his funeral.

Yuliya sprinted ahead when they reached the ramp. Jubelo waited at the top, and she wasted no time throwing herself into him and hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured into her ear, followed by sniffling that triggered her pride.

“Y-yeah… me too.” She eased him off after a few seconds, wiped away her tears and resumed her usual scowl. “But, what did you expect? Of course I’d be okay! I’m the Princess of Grust, and as Crown Prince you should know better than-”

Wendell pulled them both into a hug and said, “Princess. Let’s appreciate the moment for what it is.”

“Um, yeah… sorry,” she mumbled, begrudgingly leaning into their comforting embrace. It was liberating to be together again… until she remembered not everyone was safe. Prince Marth should have escaped with Caeda and Catria, but Ogma and the others had yet to board their vessel. Most of all was Sir Sirius, who had volunteered to hold off Sir Astram… how was he holding out?

“L-look. We’ll have time to catch up later!” she insisted, wriggling out and hurrying to the helm. “Many of our soldiers still haven’t boarded, and Sir Sirius is…”

Her words slowed when she looked over the rail. For a minute she feared he’d be cut to ribbons, so she was pleasantly surprised to see him fighting to a standstill. With a series of nimble maneuvers he held the swordsman at bay, keeping Mercurius’s blade from both him and his less durable silver lance. It was the most awe-inspiring display she witnessed all day – and that was saying a lot! Jubelo and Wendell soon joined her, and all were watching intently while he barred Astram’s path.

Linde was less satisfied, though. “Is he really… I-I’ll, go help the others on,” she stated, excusing herself before anyone caught her disgruntlement.

“Go, Sir Sirius!”
“Yeah! You can do it, sir!”

While the twins cheered their knight on, Wendell quietly chanted a Physic spell. He may match Sir Astram in skill, but his weapon is no match for the Regalia… Unable to parry effectively, a handful of shallow swipes cut past Sirius’s defenses, and without aid he might succumb to attrition. The archbishop also observed their allies rounding the bridge one by one, with Cain ushering them up the ramp while the rest of the army remained on standby.

“Keep it up, Sir Sirius! Show him how it’s done!” Yuliya yelled.

Astram’s assault grew more frenzied after Gordin passed by with that Archanean general. Jubelo gripped the rail nervously and called, “Be careful!”

Even against his foe’s pitched temper Sirius held his own, although he started to give ground. Having to dodge forced him two steps back, but a high swipe with the tip drove Astram back. He periodically checked behind him, not just to his cheerleaders but to urge his comrades to keep going. Kris was the last to escape, running up the ramp just before the 7th Platoon hoisted it up. But Sirius could go nowhere, locked in a fierce duel for his life.

“Come on, Sir Sirius! Finish him off!”

“Raise the anchor!”

The twins’ eyes went wide at Jagen’s command. “What!?”

The boat tremored a second later, with Linde channeling a column of wind into the sails to hasten their escape. Yuliya spun around and pleaded, “W-wait! You can’t! Sir Sirius is still down there!”

“Yuliya! Your staff!”

“Huh? …Oh, right!” How could I forget at a time like this!

At Jubelo’s behest she reached for her bag, and he saved her the trouble by snatching Rescue and shoving it into her hands. She turned towards the rail and held its bulb high, but before she could begin her prayer a dapper voice spoke up:

“That won’t be necessary. Allow me.”

Hm? Yuliya peeked with one eye, and both shot open when she saw General Jeorge step in front of the railing and aim Parthia at the duelists. “Wh, what are you doing!? You can’t-” Gordin sidestepped in front of the twins to intercept them “No! Stop him, not us!”

“Princess, he knows what he’s doing!”

“No! You have it all wrong! You said he-”

Jeorge released his arrow, igniting as it shot past the grip. Their struggling ceased when it burst into a fiery explosion, not against Sir Sirius but right over his head… it caught Astram at the apex of a leap, poised for an overhead strike. He barely drew his shield up in time but went careening over the bridge’s west rail. Following the initial shock, Sirius glanced back to the boat in bewilderment; then, towards Palla as she descended for the army’s final retrieval.

The twins stared incredulously. “…o-okay, he’s good…”

“I-is he dead?” Jubelo asked.

“No.”

Mercurius flew over the rail followed by an arm grabbing it seconds later. Astram hoisted himself up soaking wet, clutching his left over his stomach… probably broken, just like his shield. With grievous wounds to both body and pride, he seethed through gritted teeth with every breath. “Oh, so THAT’S how it is, huh! Ten long years of serving and it all means NOTHING to you! I thought you were different from the other Menedy, but I guess I was wrong!”

Jeorge didn’t reply, only shaking his head remorsefully. He walked away followed by Gordin while the twins watched in silence.

“Next time we cross paths it’ll be YOUR head that rolls!” Astram swore. He nearly fell back in when he threw his fist into the air, caught by two of his men. “You hear me!? YOUR HEAD!!”

With the boat moving towards open water, their gazes returned to Raman. The Sable Knights’ fight was still going but they must have seen their departure, for there was now a more conscious effort to retreat. Not that many were left… among their side, only three cavalry and a handful of infantry remained. The largest – obviously Ymir – hoisted an enemy soldier over his head and threw him at a mob of soldiers. All the remaining infantry seemed to be archers, deterring their pursuers while the giant caught up.

“Goodbye Grust. We won’t forget you,” Jubelo said before sniffling.

“Rrrrrrgh… Brother, keep it together! This is no time… to…”

Although frustrated at his pessimism, Yuliya couldn’t chew him out when she saw him crying. It dawned on her how powerless he must feel right now… and today’s events reminded her she was no different. She could do nothing to prevent the Fane of Raman’s desecration, could scarcely focus throughout their chaotic advance and came face-to-face with that bone-chilling demon of an emperor. She even faltered when Sir Sirius was on the line, forgetting her talents until Jubelo reminded her. Now, just after they retook their kingdom they had to flee it again, and most of its surviving knights sacrificed themselves for their escape. Would they even have a kingdom to return to?

Her scowl slumped into a frown and she dropped her staff as tears started pouring from her eyes. The hand over her shoulder brought dull surprise, and she barely looked up as Master Wendell drew them both into another embrace.

“Shhhh. It’s been a long day,” he whispered, covering them as they sobbed into his robes.

In spite of everything General Lang put them through, this might be their darkest day since they were first set free. Others felt the same… Prince Marth for sure, but even those who considered their mission successful knew it was a pyrrhic victory. They were fugitives, on the run from a mad emperor while their lands likely burned under Archanea’s tyranny. This would not be easily resolved… the promise of safety at Khadein seemed more like a dim spark than a twinkle of hope.

Chapter Text

Wendell left them with the 7th Platoon to help treat the wounded. Yuliya was excused to grieve alongside her brother… how fortunate, given neither was in any mood to contribute. Though they accomplished their objectives no one could call it a victory: Emperor Hardin’s specter hung over all who witnessed him, and being branded traitors to the empire gave everyone reason to worry. Whether Prince Marth and Princess Caeda escaped was still up in the air. And then there was Grust… their kingdom barely had time to breathe after casting off Lang’s heel and spent its few elites on their escape. Now it was easy pickings if Archanea saw fit to reconquer… fears quietly shared by the platoon, who were reminded of their own captive realm.

Ryan suggested, “Well, think of it this way. Some of your knights were retreating when we got away. Maybe they’ll be able to regroup and-”

“If Archanea doesn’t track them down first. Where are they gonna run,” Yuliya mumbled sullenly, slumping with one cheek on her brother’s shoulder. Jubelo looked equally gloomy.

“…they could go… uh…” He tried thinking of a plausible way out, but soon hung his head in resignation. “…uh, never mind.”

Luke shook his head and sighed. “Man. Even I don’t know how to spin this better.”

“Then don’t! You’ll put them in an even worse mood!” Cecil quipped.

“Hey! I said I was keeping my mouth shut! I don’t need you prodding me-”

Roderick stood between them, raised his palms and ordered, “Enough! You don’t want to raise a fuss, so stop raising it with each other!”

The two knights grumpily turned toward opposite corners. Luke grumbled, “She started it.”

“Ugh. If you can’t say anything to cheer them up, then keep quiet, okay?” He then wore a more neutral face, looked at the twins and said, “Look, I don’t know if I can tell you anything better. But we made it out alive today, and no one wants to see the Empire-”

“Aaactually Rody, Sir Arran left with Sir Sirius. Unless you saw him come back?” Luke interjected.

Cecil replied, “Well how do you know? Palla retrieved Sir Sirius after he fought off Astram and Prince Marth has two pegasi with him. Maybe one of them-”

“He’s not coming back, Cecil.”

The announcement came from Kris, who wore several bandages and a melancholic expression as she slank through the door. Gordin followed her in with a bandage around one shoulder. Ryan asked, “Are you and Kris alright now, Big Brother?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine Ryan. We’ve both taken worse before. But it’s as Kris said: Sir Arran isn’t coming back,” he solemnly repeated.

“He, sacrificed himself so that we could retreat,” Kris explained while on the verge of tears. “I tried to tell him to fall back, but he wouldn’t listen… sniff… he, he just said to run! Don’t look back…”

Cecil exclaimed, “But why not!? He had a horse! What was stopping him from breaking off when you all had distance?”

“He knew he didn’t have long to live.”

All eyes fell on Princess Yuliya, now sitting upright and perturbed by the spike in attention.

“H-hey, don’t look at me like that! I’m a healer! …I-I mean, I know how to divine injuries. When I healed him at Olbern, I could sense another affliction. Something that my magic couldn’t heal, and would claim his life sooner or later,” she explained.

Luke glanced to Roderick and mentioned, “Y’know, now that I think about it, he started looking pale a year earlier. Around the time he became even more of a recluse.”

“That’s when he caught his unshakable illness.”

Now everyone turned toward Gordin with greater surprise. Luke stuttered, “W-wait! You’re saying he’s been sick with us this whole time!?”

“Then why would Prince Marth let him on this mission? Surely he wanted Sir Arran resting, not wearing himself out and spreading it to us,” Roderick questioned.

“Guys, I was getting to that… what he had wasn’t contagious, but it wasn’t curable either. It’s something called the Walking Death. Father Wrys can explain it better if you want the details,” Gordin elaborated. “He didn’t want it causing alarm or interfering with his duties, so he kept quiet and kept to himself whenever he could. Only Altean leadership and us senior knights knew.”

“I only learned the night after we routed the Macedon Vikings,” Kris clarified.

“But why was he so insistent about serving?” Roderick repeated.

“Because he wanted to atone for past misdeeds. You all know he wasn’t originally from Altea… under his first master’s orders he put down innocent peasants when they revolted during a famine.”

“The same master we just put down.”

Gordin received several gasps and a few surprised “WHAT?” As the commotion subsided, Jubelo asked, “You mean General Lang was Arran’s old master?!”

“Yes, and he was ashamed of it. That’s why he was so secret…” After noticing Kris’s weird look he insisted, “…Kris, there’s no more harm in them knowing.”

“Well did you need to include that part now?”

Yuliya demanded, “Are there any other secret Archaneans we should know about?”

“No, Linde was the only one, and Mas… General Jeorge as of recently.”

“Right. Him.” She hopped to her feet and stated, “You promised you would introduce me to him.”

“Princess Yuliya, it can wait if you’re still-”

“I was just informed of another knight hiding Archanean roots on short notice! You think a preordained meeting bothers me?” She picked up her staff and asserted, “You will introduce me. Now.”

“As you wish… and you, Prince Jubelo?”

“No thanks. I’m good, sir. I’m… not really in the mood right now…”

“All right. If you’ll excuse us… right this way, Princess.”

After Gordin shut the door, Ryan asked, “You don’t want to go, Jubelo?”

“Nah. I’ve had enough… uh, enough for one day, Ryan.” It’s her promise, not mine. He looked down and kicked his feet idly while Kris took his sister’s spot.

“Don’t worry Prince Jubelo. Things might look bleak, but the Altean knights will pull through!” Kris assured, smiling briefly before shifting to anger. “Hardin’s betrayal will not go unpunished! Sir Cain said as much when we boarded, and I’m confident we’ll find a way to breach that evil aura protecting him!”

Roderick said, “While I want to share our commander’s optimism, that’s got me worried. Princess Yuliya said how terrifying merely looking at him was!”

“And according to Sir Cain it prohibits all attacks directed his way… still, it must have some weakness,” she pondered. “It sounds like some sort of magic, and Khadein has a wealth of knowledge, right Prince?”

“Yeah, and more than just magic! Khadein’s archives are HUGE, some spanning more than one floor!” He spread his arms wide for emphasis.

“Then they might contain knowledge on what we’re up against, and how to counter it!”

Ryan added, “And your teacher, Lord Wendell! He’s in charge of Khadein, right? Maybe he’ll be able to find just what we need.”

Jubelo smiled. “You’re right! Khadein’s archive might have the answers, and with Master Wendell’s rank everything should be available! …Well, technically the White Sage has a say.”

“Who cares what he says? We’ve got an emergency on our hands! Unless he wants to stop the Emperor for us, to hell with his objections!” Cecil declared.

Kris concurred, “I-I don’t know if I’d say it like that, but I agree with Cecil, and I’m sure Prince Marth and Princess Caeda will too… see, Prince Jubelo? Altea found a way once before, and we’ll do it again!”

“Yeah… thanks Kris, and all of you. I feel better now.”

While Grust’s vulnerability still kindled in his mind, the thought of Khadein holding answers to their crisis threw some sand over the flames. Following the platoon’s chatter helped Jubelo distance his worries further… Yuliya, on the other hand, grew tenser. She followed Sir Gordin dutifully and wore her usual scowl, but her steps were rigid and she clutched Rescue’s shaft tightly. Even if the general bailed out Sir Sirius, the way he did so… and that stoicism he did it with… left her ambivalent. Gordin was certain that he was an ally, but she still held doubts.

Her anxiety didn’t go unnoticed, and Gordin stopped when a stair caught her foot and nearly tripped her. “Princess Yuliya, I’ll say it again. If you’re not comfortable right now-”

“I made a vow and I intend to keep it! We proceed as agreed!” she protested, although her furrowed brow and clenched joints betrayed her façade.

“If you say so…”

This continued at the top of the stairs, where she lagged a second before hurrying to catch up. Gordin felt sorry for her but knew she wouldn’t agree to putting it off, she was just too stubborn. There’s gotta be something I can say to help her relax. She KNOWS not everyone from Archanea is evil! Linde took down Lang, Master Jeorge has been helping Grust… Sir Arran atoned after leaving… wait. He thought back to stories about her forefathers. According to her, Grust’s first king… yes, that’s perfect! “Princess Yuliya? One more moment if you will?”

She stopped again and flashed an impatient glare.

“This’ll be the last interruption, I promise. Remember what you said about Ordwin? Grust’s first king? How he was an Archanean general before that.”

Yuliya’s expression softened and her shoulders started to relax. Yes, he was…

With a gentle smile he reminded, “If you feel scared, consider what he might say. Seeing his descendant making amends with his former people… I think he’d be very proud of you right now!”

A small smile crept up her face. You’re right. He would be proud of me to… wait, what am I thinking!? This is no time to get sentimental! Upon snapping back to reality, she looked away and pointed her gaze down to hide embarrassment. “Just show me the door already. No more interruptions.”

“All right Princess, no more interruptions.” Well, she’s better than she was.

He led her down a few more doors before knocking on one with a peculiar rhythm. “Back already, Gordin? The door’s open.”

Huh? That voice… Tension distracted her earlier, but now Yuliya noticed a familiarity in the general’s tone, like she’d heard it before.

Gordin opened the door halfway. “Yes, Master. I have… oh, hello Linde.” He turned back around and asked, “Is it okay that Linde is in here too?”

She nodded. I guess…

“Is there a problem?” Jeorge inquired.

“No, everything’s fine.”

Yuliya cautiously peeked around the doorframe after Gordin opened it fully, stepping inside and to the left. General Jeorge stood towards the back of the room with Parthia in hand, Linde at his left. While his expression was neutral and his weapon was lowered, his naturally sharp gaze and those golden eyes left her wary, as did the Regalia he held. Linde’s quiet smile was harmless by comparison but the added attention wasn’t helping her nerves.

Gordin gestured to her and announced, “Master Jeorge, may I introduce you to Princess Yuliya von Grunia! Princess, this is… uh…” His smile vanished when he saw her glowering around the doorframe. “…you can come in now, Princess Yuliya.”

“I will remain at the distance of my choosing,” she stated in no uncertain terms.

He sighed. “Princess, we’ve been over this. Master Jeorge is not-”

“Hold this.”

“Wha- huh!?” He turned back to his teacher upon feeling a bow shoved into his hands and gawked when he saw Parthia. “But Master, this is-”

“Not something to carry during a diplomatic exchange,” he interjected while removing his quiver. After setting that aside he knelt in the center of the cabin and bowed his head respectfully. “It’s good to see you and Prince Jubelo are well, Princess Yuliya. I am Jeorge Maximillien Menedy, ex-Archery General of Archanea and leader-in-exile of House Menedy.” Then he raised his chin slightly, peeped one eye open and added, “Although I believe we’ve met before?”

“…You’re that man who led the other prisoners from Olbern away. I was tired at the time, but…”

“The very same. And I assure you, your countrymen reached the promised sanctuary village unharmed.”

Her wary scowl remained as he relocated to his cot and folded one leg over the other. “Why should I trust anything you say?”

“Your caution is well-deserved, Your Highness. You must know the infamy behind my family name, on top of my rank and nationality. And though I can dispute the latter there’s little dancing around it: aside from my inhuman archery feats, most of the damning rumors about my kin are true.” He raised a palm to his student when the latter tried to object. “I’ll speak for myself, Gordin, and you’ve had the chance to see the blood on House Menedy’s hands.”

His honesty baffled Yuliya. “Then why are you so forward about it?”

“What sense is there lying when someone refuses to believe it? Persuasion is limited by the ear of the beholder, and you evidently – wisely, I might add – favor distrust. I imagine my unorthodox method of helping your masked friend left you second guessing me, correct?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then you’re already keen to the serpent’s tail. As you might observe, I’m a faithful reflection of what it means to be Menedy. A family of cold, calculating schemers whose talents in foresight and trickery lent us great sway in politics, cementing our place among the Five Houses of Archanea.”

Gordin mentioned, “He has a peculiar way of describing it, claiming it’s more than just intuition. Almost like it’s a form of magic.”

Linded asked, “Like clairvoyance? …Sorry for interrupting, I have a friend who might be intrigued.”

“I know. Merric’s asked me too… but this is about you, Master.”

“It might well be. We’ve speculated ancient sorcerers are at the root of our family tree since the White Sage reintroduced magic. But our roots matter less than where we’ve burrowed them.” Jeorge tipped his head down with an embittered look and explained, “My family’s machinations have long steeped our hands in blood, and I’m disgusted by it. Our constant schemes and manipulations, even of each other have left me disillusioned… and yet, I’ve burdened with the same blood. One whose talents I’ve had to rely on to survive, much as I despise them.”

Yuliya was unsure how to feel. She worried Jeorge might be trying to manipulate her, but his malaise seemed real. Gordin and Linde appearing saddened by his monologue complicated thing further. Is he really telling the truth, or is this just another trick?

“Forging relationships is especially difficult. Most of whom flock to me are gold diggers seeking a share of my power; others rightfully avoid me out of fear. In turn, I feel compelled to treat others like pieces on a game board. It’s a very suffocating way to live… I even envy the simpler life of the peasants. While they evidently face their own problems, at least they don’t endure the crushing isolation my station brings.”

Gordin objected, “Master, don’t put yourself down like that! You’ve made great friends!”

“Yes! Lady Nyna always spoke highly of your counsel, as did King Hardin before… y-you know.”

“Enough! This is my conversation, and I want to hear it from him!” Yuliya ordered before focusing back on the marquess. “Well sir, these two have much to say in your defense, along with others aboard this expedition. They even claim you alerted Altea of the impending attack.”

“More that I enabled Nyna to, and I was elated to learn her letter arrived in time.”

“Same thing. Which brings me back to my main question: why? You confirmed you hail from a den of snakes and think the same way they do. What makes you different?”

“A conscience is the most concise answer I can give. I want to atone for my house’s misdeeds, use my power for the good of the realm. Possibly set House Menedy down a cleaner path long-term. But there are additional factors that influence my decisions. For instance, I saw a kindred spirit in Gordin, hence I took him under my wing.” Jeorge’s demeanor then soured as he continued, “And General Lang was a very personal enemy of mine.”

“You don’t need elaborate. Sir Gordin showed me some of your letters. Those scribbled out passages spoke for themselves.”

Linde exclaimed, “Oh, you should have seen him yelling at Lady Nyna after she did nothing to stop it!”

Jeorge raised an eyebrow. “Is that so… then you should understand why I had no qualms leaving him to Altea’s wolves. You did me a favor disposing of him.”

“So why wait for us? What stopped you from ending him yourself if you care this strongly? You had the means,” she demanded, pointing to Parthia.

“Politics are a complicated affair. Much as I’d love to pop his bloated head, doing so would be an act of treason, and Hardin has gone after entire territories over the lord’s defiance. I’d also alienate myself from my few close friends, namely Sir Astram and Dame Midia.”

“You mean the angry blonde swordsman chasing us? You, already sort of did…”

“He’s a pleasant man once he opens up to you. Unfortunately, Hardin’s rhetoric tickles his national pride. The same way he’s poisoned other upstanding minds… I hope to mend our relationship someday but it won’t happen until he’s willing to listen,” he lamented. “I digress. Since I couldn’t strike at Aloysius directly I did the next best thing: quietly aid Grust’s resistance, turn a blind eye to their movements and falsify reports to Olbern. Sir Belf’s regiment expressed gratitude after I sent a battalion into their ambush and mislabeled the sanctuary village as destroyed. My men sympathized with Grust’s plight too, seeing how it was likely them I saw reinforcing your knights back there. I pray they at least removed their identifying articles like I told them to, but I fear Astram may connect the dots on his own.”

Yuliya remained quiet in deep thought. Gordin took her silence to ask, “You see, Princess? Master Jeorge was trying to help us the whole time. Does he really seem like that bad a guy?”

“No sir, he doesn’t… although I can’t shake this suspicious feeling about him.”

Jeorge chuckled. “Fair enough. It comes with being a Menedy. Now if you don’t mind me asking questions, what led to my student of all people introducing you?”

“Ogma dumped Jubelo and I on him after Altea rescued us.”

“Really?” He glanced at Gordin with a smirk. “Why didn’t I hear that at Olbern?”

“You told me to keep it quick.”

“Nonsense. I always have time for my little student’s developments,” he insisted to said student’s chagrin. “Well Princess, I imagine Ogma made a fine choice if you’re here on his word.”

“Totally! Sir Gordin’s been much better company than him! Ryan and his platoon have also been supportive of Jubelo!” Her sudden exuberance then slumped to a remorseful frown. “…A-although, after the night he came clean, I’m not sure it’s the same…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry Your Highness. That conversation was destined to be difficult. I’m sure he bears you no grudge over it.”

Gordin affirmed, “No, I was never angry… but, Master Jeorge. This isn’t supposed to be about…”

Linde’s frantic waving caught his attention. “Shhh! Gordin, look!” she whispered, pointing excitedly to Yuliya creeping inside around the doorframe. She now appeared more bashful than wary.

“Really? I-I thought he’d be mad about my attitude…”

“We all have bad days, Princess. You and Prince Jubelo were entitled plenty. Gordin has worked with troubled children before, both on the campaign and in peacetime.”

She smiled again. “Yes! Sir Gordin has been incredibly mindful, even while putting his foot down! He also shows great valor as an Altean knight and is very knowledgeable about archery!”

He started blushing. “Princess, I appreciate the praise but this isn’t about me… i-in fact! If it wasn’t for Master Jeorge I wouldn’t be half the archer I am today! He taught me everything I-”

“Not everything. You knew the basics, even if we needed to refine them to a usable standard,” Jeorge countered. “And mind, Princess, that I couldn’t be present all the time. He may follow my guidance but he grew into a capable archer by his own efforts, and has trained his brother since. In fact, he might even teach you a thing or two.”

Her gaze snapped left. “You could do that?”

Gordin quickly realized what he was pulling. “W-wait, Master Jeorge. I told you-”

“You’ll teach me how to wield the bow, right?”

Yuliya leaned her staff against the wall and stepped towards him with an intense, determined stare. He briefly glanced back at Jeorge to receive the same smug grin that taunted him whenever one of his brain teasers succeeded. You think NOW’S a good time to mess with people’s heads!? “Uhh, listen Princess…”

“As Grust’s heirs, Prince Jubelo and I must set a good example for our people! Grust’s leaders have long been revered for their martial prowess… a-and, I want to be able to protect him, more… directly!” she said, her courageous act starting to crumble. “From the shadows, even! And, your guidance has proven highly valuable thus far! I think I could stand to learn a lot more as your apprentice!”

Apprentice?! “…That’s uh, very flattering, but…”

“I-i-if you’re still upset, I promise I’ll behave myself! I won’t cause trouble for Linde, or Jeorge, or any other Archaneans who join us! I-I’ll be kinder to them, I promise!”

Gordin turned away to lean Parthia against the wall, and to collect his thoughts. Being put on the spot was awkward enough, being begged over an apprenticeship made it worse! Altea’s best archer or not, it felt premature when he was a student just one year ago, if he could even name a formal graduation. Let alone a princess asking this of him… Master Jeorge offered nothing but a nonchalant shrug; It’s your call. Linde wasn’t providing any input either.

All he could work off was Yuliya’s desperate pleading, and the longer he dwelled on it the sadder she looked. Her brow slumped, she clasped her hands and muttered a meek “Please?” It seemed like she might cry if any second now…

This really means a lot to you, huh? “I… suppose I could teach you the basics,” he decided.

Her face instantly lit up. It felt like a raincloud just disappeared into thin air.

“I don’t know how soon you’ll be ready to fight. Archery takes months to learn and years to perfect. But the earlier you start training the better, it’s a handy weapon to know,” he continued, her infectious grin causing him to smile. “And I said it before, I was never upset with you.”

“Really!? You mean that!?”

“Of course! I was more worried that you might hold it against me, or my friends. But if you’re serious then that won’t be a problem anymore, and I’m proud of you for-”

“THANK YOU!”

"Huh!?"

Gordin stuttered into silence when she leapt forward and threw her arms around him. “Thank you so, so much! I promise, sir, I won’t let you down!”

As if this wasn’t awkward already enough! He felt his cheeks burning as the princess hugged him tightly, all in front of his companions. Jeorge stroked his chin with an inquisitive smile. Well now… Meanwhile, Linde clasped both hands over her mouth to hold back giggles. “Hmhmhm! You lucky…”

“Um… Yuliya?” he muttered to get her attention.

“Hm? …I, ahd, uuummm…”

She stammered nervously upon coming back to reality, backing away and uttering a short shriek when she remembered their audience. “You, you didn’t see anything!!”

Jeorge wryly tilted his gaze right. “I’m sorry, did I miss something? I was admiring this fine woodwork.” Linde lurched left in stitches, burying a tinkled pink face in her palms.

“Aaaahh, good! I’ll, um… I-I’ll take my leave now. As you were, gentlemen! …and, uh, Linde.”

The flustered princess bolted out the door, only to poke back in to retrieve her staff before pulling it shut. Jeorge remarked, “Congratulations, Gordin. Only a year-and-a-half since my last lesson and you’ve found your own apprentice. You must be proud!”

“Master, why must you insist on putting thoughts into others’ heads?”

“What were you expecting? I am a Menedy. Call it a guilty pleasure.” He smirked when his student elicited a long groan.

Yuliya reverted to pure giddiness as she scampered through the halls. Finally, a means to defend herself, and her brother… invaluable as her staff was, she couldn’t vanquish foes with it. With a bow however, she could meaningfully fight back, and in a way that didn’t interfere with Jubelo. He shouldn’t need a bow when he has magic, and when he took to the field she’d protect him while he stood front and center, as any King and Commander should. Oooh, this is perfect… he’s gonna be SO happy!

Marquess Jeorge Maximillien Menedy – Calculating Sniper

Among Archanea’s nobility Jeorge is an anomaly. House Menedy ranks among the kingdom’s Five Great Houses, and yet its young scion preferred to mingle with commoners. Two of his closest friends, Sir Astram of Archanea and more recently Sir Gordin of Altea, hail from such backgrounds. He even broke off a perfectly good marriage to the daughter of House Deil to make room for Astram! None doubt his effectiveness as a statesman – his wit is as sharp as any Menedy’s – but it’s made a mockery of his house’s good name. (At least according to the aristocracy…)

Not that he thinks highly of them. For generations the Menedy have been notorious for their uncanny, almost sorcerous ability to predict events and read people. From lesser roots they clawed their way up through trickery, deceit, and precisely calculated maneuvers. To see through the eyes of a Menedy is to see others as pieces on a chessboard. It’s a legacy that weighs heavily on Jeorge… he resents his roots yet he’s undeniably one of them at his core. He’s not bereft of conscience though, and endeavors to use his talents for good. Maybe he can redeem the family name on his terms… would his forefathers be proud? It’s a long shot, but he’ll play the hand he’s been dealt – never tell a Menedy the odds.

Chapter Text

Prince Marth returned with Princess Caeda and Dame Catria under the cover of night. Although news of Sir Arran’s demise disheartened him, he was relieved to learn everyone else escaped; that their decoy ship fled to open water was also uplifting. He was exhausted though, fatigued from yesterday’s events and haunted by nightmares. At his comrades’ insistence plans to reconnect were put on hold until he rested - Khadein was still a day’s sailing, and his health was paramount.

Sir Jagen saw fit to educate Sir Cain on recent events, including what transpired in Grust, while their liege recuperated. Jubelo and Yuliya were invited to attend with Master Wendell, although they let him do most of the talking. For one reason or another, only Dame Kris was there to represent the knights.

“I was mortified when I heard Aud had fallen! But I couldn’t fly their aid immediately, not with so little information and several shards on hand… unfortunately, General Lang’s men detained me before I could address either,” he exposited. “By then, Ogma had rescued them. We were reunited after they joined forces with Prince Marth and retook Olbern.”

Cain nodded sternly. “I see. That answers several questions, Archbishop, but why bring them on this journey? Surely you understand the risks they face?”

“Hey! We’ve been through harder circumstances than your juniors!” Yuliya protested.

Wendell urged, “Princess please, mind your temper… I understand, Sir Cain, but with Grust in shambles we figured they’d be safer in our care, lest Archanea try to rebuild its occupation.”

“And it’d mean leaving the friends they’ve come to depend on,” Kris added. Yuliya nodded pretentiously while Jubelo gave a smaller, humbler one.

He conceded, “Fair enough. If Prince Marth wills it, so be it. Now where are these friends of yours? What are Ogma and Princess Caeda’s excuses, let alone that little runt’s?”

“Navarre has been getting too close to Ogma for comfort again. Princess Caeda is helping reestablish boundaries,” Jagen explained. “As for Gordin, Draug says he’s compiling details on the Empire with Marquess Jeorge and Lady Linde. He claims they have much to share with Prince Marth.”

Kris asked, “Is something amiss, Sir Cain? You sound upset…”

“Because I am! Having answers doesn’t change that Talys acted behind our backs! Never mind that Gordin brought us all into this skulldug-”

“You leave him alone! Sir Gordin has been a model knight and ward!”

He glared at the defiant princess and demanded, “And how does trading secrets with a foreign lord under his liege’s nose make a model knight, Princess? Do you realize how much trouble that caused!?”

“Well how much more trouble would you be in without him? What if Nyna didn’t have that convenient channel to sneak her letter through, huh!?”

Jubelo nervously added, “Yeah! That… a-and, why would we object to anyone who helped us?”

Cain grimaced furiously while the princess returned a condescending smirk, Jubelo huddling anxiously against her side. Jagen calmly put a hand to his shoulder and stated, “Setting my own reservations aside, we have ample reason to believe he’s innocent. Marquess Jeorge, their correspondence, and Emperor Hardin’s own words point to it being Archanea’s setup.”

“You heard Sir Jagen! So save your badmouthing for-”

Wendell gently lowered her pointer finger and chastised, “Princess Yuliya, you’ve made your point… please forgive her, Sir Cain. Bad experiences have made her quite confrontational.”

Cain looked away snorted to release tension. “Right. Noted.” Good grief. As if Caeda’s sass wasn’t enough… After regaining his composure, he righted his head and remarked, “I don’t see why you’re being this defensive, though. You’ve known him for what, a month?”

Kris replied, “Sir Cain, he and Ryan tended to the them in Lord Wendell’s absence!”

“Firstly, we’re speaking in everyone’s defense! Ogma, Princess Caeda and Sir Gordin,” Yuliya corrected. “Secondly, he’s been a great influence in that short time! Jubelo and I have learned a lot from him and Ryan, and he’ll be mentoring me in archery in the near future.”

“What??”

The three knights exchanged confused glances until Kris renewed eye contact and asked, “Princess, I don’t mean to question the arrangement, but when did that happen?”

“Yesterday, after introducing me to Marquess Jeorge. He agreed to take me as an apprentice.”

Wendell elaborated, “To be clear, Sir Gordin said he would show her the basics, and only when we have downtime. She won’t be carrying a bow into battle any time soon.” And I certainly won’t allow it!

“Sir Gordin said I won’t master the bow overnight, or for a while. But under his discipline I’ll one day be a princess capable of upholding Grust’s martial history and defending Prince Jubelo!”

While Yuliya exuded pride in her bold declaration, it left Jubelo feeling embarrassed. Cain’s sarcastic murmurs after looking over them didn’t help: “A princess defending her crown prince. I see.” The knight cast a questioning glance toward Jagen and Kris and was rebuked by two disapproving glowers. Cain, do NOT provoke her again.

Kris pushed a smile and asserted, “Well, I think it’s wonderful news! What about you, Sir Jagen?”

“While Prince Marth has the final say, I anticipate he’ll approve provided it doesn’t interfere with Gordin’s regular duties. The Altean knight’s code lists no provision against it, only that a knight’s activities mustn’t compromise their loyalty to the crown.” And THAT is where we should be concerned. This time, he and Cain thought alike.

Kris however remained optimistic. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Sir Gordin has juggled his friendship with Marquess Jeorge just fine this far! I doubt teaching the Princess will turn him against us.”

Jagen snuck another exasperated glance with Cain.

Yuliya affirmed, “Precisely. Ogma’s steadfast service hasn’t changed his loyalty to Talys, nor has Master Wendell’s care distanced him from Khadein. I know our limits when I see them.”

Do you, though? Jubelo was less certain… he dared not say it aloud, but Wendell noticed how quiet he was, and the pensive look he wore. Only after they adjourned and Yuliya went to practice her healing with Marisha did he broach the subject. “Does something bother you, Prince Jubelo?” he asked as they strolled towards their cabin.

“It’s, uh…” Jubelo stopped and cautiously peeked back behind him.

“At ease. I won’t share anything you don’t want Princess Yuliya hearing.”

“…yyyeah… Yuliya’s really happy about her apprenticeship. I should be happy too, I know! But, I…” He sighed, lowered his head and confessed, “…I, feel like I’m being left behind.”

“We all grow at our own pace, Prince. Even twins see the world through different sets of eyes. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I think you’ve made fine progress yourself!” Wendell assured while patting the boy on the shoulder.

“It’s as Lord Wendell says. We each travel the world at our own stride.”

“Oh?” The archbishop looked back up to the knight further down the hall.

“Apologies if I disturbed you. I overheard part of your conversation.”

“No. It’s okay,” Jubelo replied, raising his head and smiling weakly. “Do you, need an explanation?”

“This is about Princess Yuliya’s apprenticeship, correct?” He nodded. Sirius continued, “I heard about it shortly after. While I won’t comment on the arrangement, I can offer this: your sister has found someone who inspires her to grow in ways she has yet to consider. Is there anyone who might inspire you the same way, Little Prince?”

Jubelo pondered deeply for a moment. He had an easy answer, but he wasn’t sure that person would accept. Will he really agree to it? “…There’s one person, but… I-I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try. If you want to rehearse and plan your proposal, I’d be happy to help.”

“Really!? That’d be great! But, uuuhh…” His excitement dimmed as he turned to Wendell and inquired, “…would you be okay with me learning swordplay, Master Wendell?”

“As long as your teacher doesn’t bring you into combat prematurely, I’ll permit it. It brings me joy seeing my students expand their horizons, and I appreciate that you sought my permission first!” Wendell happily replied. He chuckled as Jubelo’s smile shone back brighter. “Ohoho! Sir Sirius, I can’t thank you enough for raising the Prince’s spirits!”

He bowed humbly. “The pleasure is mine. Now, if you know a good place we can rehearse?”

“You’re welcome to join us in our cabin, good sir. It’s only a short walk away.”

Jubelo had a spring in his step as he strode towards the door ahead of Sir Sirius and Master Wendell, even opening it for them. Wendell beamed at his little charge’s newfound enthusiasm. Back from the dead or a dead ringer, I’m glad this knight has you thinking positively!

Caeda cautioned, “Now Ogma, I understand your concerns, but that degree of separation might be challenging to uphold, especially right now.”

“Don’t care. I’ll eat earlier or later than everyone else if the mess hall’s a problem. You won’t see me on his side of the ship, and I don’t him on mine.”

Navarre smirked across the table, arms folded nonchalantly. “Oh come now, Ogma. I’ve honored our truce time and again during the last war. You should know I don’t break my oaths by now.”

“Sure. Tell that to the outlaws you’ve crossed-”

“Mercenary work is an entirely different matter!” he interrupted, his smile dropping like a rock.

Ogma maintained an air of stoic contempt. “Right. Like you won’t say no to a woman in need. Doesn’t matter that cutting me down would upset Princess Caeda, so long as she isn’t there to see… on our own turf of all places. Then you track me to Grust and trade your scarlet robes for something flowery to-”

Navarre slammed his fist on the table. “Flowery!? The color violet evokes power!”

Samuel pleaded, “Ha, h-hey now! We might have different fashion tastes, but-”

“Not now, Samuel!” they barked in unison from returning to mutual glares.

“Aha… sorry, sirs…”

He shrugged to Princess Caeda across the table with a crooked, awkward smile that said “I tried.” Caeda shook her head in dismay. Some help you’ve been… Thankfully, a knock on the door temporarily broke the tension. “Is that you, Marth? Jagen?”

“Not quite.” Sirius cracked open the door and greeted, “I pray we’re not interrupting something important, Your Highness. Ogma.”

“Nothing special,” Ogma responded when he heard his name, ignoring the scowl Navarre shot him. “And what do you mean we?”

“Prince Jubelo has something to ask you.”

Jubelo stepped under the doorframe after Sirius opened it fully and gave a soft, “Go ahead, Little Prince.” Even with the knight’s encouragement, he felt nervous under four pairs of eyes. Three were more curious – benign but stressful when taken together. Navarre’s impatient glare cut through him like butter… he tried to focus squarely on Ogma, whose icy gaze was preferable. “Um, anyway sir… I-I wanted to ask you. Since Sir Gordin will be teaching my sister, archery…”

A surprised Caeda interjected, “What? When did that… never mind, I’ll hear it from him later. Sorry for interrupting, carry on.”

“It’s okay… aaanyway. Do you think, you could, um… …” He winced, bracing himself for rejection. “…w-will you, teach me how to wield a sword?”

“Get real, kid.”

The prince slumped over Navarre’s condescending remark. He continued, “Ogma has better things to do than teach mere childr-”

“I’ll do it.”

Jubelo’s head flew back up with a gaping grin. Navarre stared incredulously across the table. “What?”

“On one condition: you will not take what I teach you to battle until I say you’re ready.”

“No, sir! I… I-I-I mean, yes! I won’t disobey you! Master Wendell didn’t want that either… thank you Ogma! Thank you so much!”

Caeda remarked, “Well, that makes me feel better about it… I think you’ll do fine, Jubelo! Ogma was my sword instructor and he was always attentive to my needs.”

“We’ll start when we have more time and space. Maybe at Khadein,” Ogma suggested.

“Okay… again, thank you sir! This, i-it means a lot to me!”

“I’ll thank you all as well for giving the Prince your time. As you were.”

Ogma leered at the knight after Jubelo vacated the doorframe while he closed it behind them. You had as much to do with this as Yuliya, he deduced. He returned to the present conversation when Navarre berated, “Ogma, you cannot be serious. Wasting time on that whelp?”

“Next time, keep your damn mouth shut. You don’t hear me complaining about you dragging Samuel into training under you.”

“Teaching him serves a purpose. He’s already a convincing actor; having him swing that sword right means less eyes on me,” he explained. “How does teaching some kid serve-”

“Firstly, that ‘kid’ is the Crown Prince of Grust!” Caeda harshly retorted.

“See? He’s not under my protection nothing. Princess Caeda and King Mostyn are very invested in his wellbeing, teaching him might as well be an extension of my mission,” Ogma concurred. “And training a dozen whelps would be better use of my time than putting up with your-”

Navarre snarled and pounded the table again. Samuel spoke up, “Well, I think it’s great that the kid learns to fight for himself! It’s always valuable to be able to… uh…” He clammed up and lowered his eyes under the better swordsman’s scowl. “…forget I said anything.”

Caeda sighed. This is going to be a long morning… at least there’s one bright spot.

Jubelo wiped tears from the corners of his eyes as his face began to cool. Sirius strode up alongside him and said, “See, Prince Jubelo? Sometimes all it takes is asking.”

“I, don’t know that if that’s always true…”

“Many matters are more complicated than they seem, but today’s was not. Be proud, Prince. You took another step toward a more promising future.”

“I did… I couldn’t have done it without you, though. So, thank you again, and…” Jubelo turned right and paused just as he was about to lunge forward. “…uh, w-would you mind if I, erm, hugged you?”

“I’ll permit it, Prince. And it was diligent to… haha.”

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around the knight’s waisted. Sirius chuckled and patted the prince’s shoulder. “Now, as I meant to say. It was diligent of you to ask first. Public displays of affection are often frowned upon among high society.”

“Yeah, I-I know.” He backed off with an awkward smile and pink cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that out in the open, I just… wanted to express just how grateful I am!”

“And you’re quite welcome Little Prince. Now how about telling Master Wendell the good news?”

“You bet! Yuliya’s gonna love it too!”

Jubelo dashed for the nearest stairs and almost stumbled on the first step in excitement’s haze. Yuliya always pushed him to measure up to their forefathers, more than anyone else… now, he had a foothold on a clearer path. While still far from being King and Commander material, the hope that he might one day match Ordwin’s gallant example was stronger. Never before was he this thrilled about learning how to fight… Khadein’s shore couldn’t come soon enough!

Chapter Text

“Although General Ordwin favored the lance he was also formidable behind the sword. ‘While the sword lacks the spear’s reach and cannot carry cavalry’s sheer force, its agility and ease of carrying make an invaluable sidearm. Archanea’s knights have long been advised to learn and carry so that they can serve at any given time,’ he would say.”

Jubelo jovially eyed the passages that his sister read aloud. Yuliya received his news positively, save for concerns that Ogma might be too rough… he wasn’t particularly worried. Ogma was Princess Caeda’s instructor. If he can accommodate her, I’m sure he’ll accommodate me, he thought while his eyes glazed over accounts of Ordwin’s technique. Yuliya relentlessly searched their small “travel library” for texts about weaponry since yesterday. Jubelo followed along at his own pace, well aware that cramming it all would only burn him out. He wasn’t about to spoil her good mood though, laborious as it was.

“Hmm. All these passages discuss about arming swords. Short swords,” she mused, setting it down for a moment. “Jubelo, you need to remember that Ogma mainly uses two-handed swords.”

“It’ll be fine, Yuliya. We’ve seen him use shorter swords too, and he practiced sword-and-shield techniques with General Lorenz. I think he knows that basic sword fighting starts small.” And I think he knows I can’t handle the big ones yet.

“Well, keep it in mind. If he teaches you the two-handed style then great, but it’s more important that you learn the style Grust prefers. Swords that are portable, accessible for when a knight dismounts… that reminds me! At some point, you need to learn how to ride a horse! Or a wyvern!”

“Y-Yuliya, one thing at a time!”

A series of gentle knocks disrupted them. “I pray I’m not intruding upon you two.”

“Uh, no Master Wendell! Yuliya and I are still going through our books!”

Wendell peeked around the door and commended, “So good of you to spend this time wisely! But I must ask that you wrap up and pack. We’re about to make landing.” Before they could voice their excitement he struck a graver tone and added, “We must be ready to march from that moment! Yesterday’s sandstorm bought us extra distance but Archanea’s ship remains hot on our wake.”

Jubelo gulped. Yuliya turned around, shut their book and promised, “We’ll be quick, Master.”

Wendell stayed another minute before leaving to join the advance party. He didn’t have to worry; their pace quickly conveyed their excitement. Soon they had everything packed away save for Yuliya’s Rescue staff and Jubelo’s Fire tome. Although neither anticipated a battle, Yuliya didn’t dare part with her staff, and she insisted he carry a tome to show his dedication. It is the Oasis of Magic, and Arlen would approve, he figured. They brought their packs to a wagon before heading to the exit ramp and stepping into the warm, dry air they hadn’t experienced for half a year.

It wasn’t what they expected. Khadein’s splendor was the same, its bright architecture shimmering with an ethereal glow in the distance. It would have made a warm welcome if not for what lurked in the surrounding desert… dracoknights patrolled the skies, shadowing mages scattered across the sand. Khadein seemed to be on high alert, unusual when the city’s stance was strict neutrality respected by all nations. The twins shared worried glances, with Jubelo asking, “Wha, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know! We haven’t been here in months… look! Master Wendell seems just as confused!”

He stood at the river delta with Prince Marth’s advance guard. Yuliya and Jubelo hurried forward, weaving around their caravan to get answers on the situation. They couldn’t hear him until they stopped next to Dame Kris, but he was conversing with the prince and Sir Jagen.

“Yes, Sir Jagen, these are the Mage Corps’ standard formations. But why Khadein would field them against us is beyond me! I told those boys to uphold our policy of neutrality!”

Marth looked especially worried. “And surely they would have seen our banner! And the white flag we use to convey peaceful landing… Merric, what’s gotten into you?”

Kris remarked, “I don’t get it either, sire. Merric spoke so proudly of you, and…”

“I’ll bet Arlen is behind this.”

“Oh?” Startled, she looked down to the grouchy princess and nervous prince at her side. “…When did you two get here?”

Jubelo rebutted, “Yuliya, Arlen would never-”

“Well, who else would it be! There’s two mages in charge of Khadein. One is Altean and the other’s not a team player. I think the choice is obvious!”

Wendell cautioned, “Princess Yuliya, let’s not jump to conclusions… Prince Marth, wait here. As Khadein’s reigning Archbishop, I’ll seek an explanation.”

Marth sighed as the archbishop approached the northern bridge alone. “What a lovely landing. On the run from Archanea, and now Khadein means to be our enemy?! Then there’s reports of two mysterious dracoknights in the northeast…” He looked up at the skies, where Caeda was circling into a landing. After she touched down he requested, “What else should I know?”

“Khadein’s defenses are concentrated around the city. Save for a few ruffians we shouldn’t face much resistance exploring the village.”

He nodded. “Great. Palla and Catria won’t encounter any problems.”

“Lord Wendell said his deliveries may have passed through the storehouse by the harbor. It’d be wise to check if there are any Starsphere shards,” Jagen recommended. “Furthermore, this is Lord Wendell’s home. It might be expedient to leave the evacuation to him and meet with Macedon’s royals yourself sire, if they are indeed there.”

“Then Julian will accompany us and one can go back for him. Any further questions?”

Kris raised her hand. “I don’t mean for this to turn violent if we can help it sire, but I’m not familiar fighting on desert terrain. Is there anything I should know?”

“Avoid horses and heavy armor. Stick with fliers, mages and infantry.”

“Huh?” She glanced to Yuliya again.

“You heard me. The sand will slow you down, but it’ll be manageable compared to what cavalry deal with. An we casters know how to cross these sands without dropping pace,” she elaborated.

“Wow! How do you do it, Princess?”

“I-it’s not something I can explain or, apply right, now…” She rolled her eyes awkwardly toward Jubelo, who thankfully wasn’t in the mood to share it either.

Jagen affirmed, “What Princess Yuliya says is true. When we first visited Khadein, it astounded us how easily Merric moved across the terrain. There’s a shallower trail to the city that offers less resistance, but keep your excursions in the deep-”

“A-Archbishop Wendell!?”

Everyone turned their attention to the bridge, where Wendell managed to flag down a mage. He stood on the opposite side where the withered grass clung to life as the terrain transitioned to compact sand. “Archbishop, what are you doing with Altea!?” he exclaimed.

“Altea saved me when Archanea took me prisoner. I brought them here to seek amnesty after Emperor Hardin put a mark on Prince Marth’s head.”

“W-well… ummm…”

The mage glanced around nervously, unsure how to frame his response. Eventually Yuliya rushed beside her teacher followed by Jubelo and demanded, “Out with it! Don’t tell us you sided with Archanea!”

“Well, uh… that’s, the thing… w-w-we, did…”

All three gasped. Several of the prince’s expedition who figured his response also look stunned. “But why!? Merric and Arlen knew Archanea’s been troubling these two! What prompted them to change their minds and go against my wishes?!”

“Arlen thought we’d be safer that way, Archbishop! He said Archanea has the strength… uhh…”

The mage guiltily tapered off when he saw Lord Wendell’s betrayed expression. Jubelo was similarly crestfallen, and even Yuliya was too shocked to say she warned them.

“Ay! Hat! What’s the holdup!?”

He timidly turned around to face the impatient dracoknight gliding up behind him, the crest of Archanea emblazoned on his chestplate. Wendell had been confused to count as many as they had earlier; now he knew where they got their extras…

“You saw the flag! These are all traitors to the Holy Archanean Empire!”

“But, our archbishop is with them! How could I raise my tome to… aa, a-aaaahh…”

The mage shivered into silence as the knight raised his lance. “Anyone who stands with Altea is our enemy, as are those who cannot honor their loyalties!”

Jubelo and Yuliya watched in horror as he descended upon the pleading mage, eliciting a harrowing scream when he plunged his lance through the boy’s chest. How could he-!?

“SHAVER!”

A blade of air slammed into the knight as he lurched back up, blasting him off his wyvern with a spray of blood and a deep gash across his shoulder blades; any higher and it might have decapitated him. His mount flew off in a panic, but the twins’ stupefied stares focused their seething teacher. It was the first time they saw him this angry… he became flustered when he lowered his eyes and met their gazes. “Apologies if I frightened you, children. Normally I detest violence, but I will not stand back and let my people be tread upon!”

Both nodded quietly. His words resonated strongly with them.

“What!? The Archbishop’s a traitor!?”

His fierce retribution provoked the troops on standby. After a brief glimpse confirmed they were mobilizing, Wendell shook his head in bitter resignation. So it’s to come this… “…Prince Marth, go to Queen Minerva. I’ll lead our march and talk down as many as I can!” he declared.

“Understood. Jagen, Caeda! I leave coordinating our escape to you! Follow Lord Wendell and get everyone we can to the city!”

Commotion rose behind them as Marth’s soldiers received hasty directions while their liege rushed east. Wendell glanced back to the twins and urged, “Stay back Prince, Princess! Leading our procession across difficult terrain will not be- aah!!”

The twins gaped in shock when an Elfire’s flames bathed over him. He winced it off, turned toward the offending mage and pleaded, “Hold your fire! These are not your-”

“How could you betray us, Archbishop! Leaving us to side with these backwater schemers!”

Although Wendell took the spell better than most of Marth’s men, his student’s words wounded him deeply. Yuliya would give him an earful were she not overwhelmed.

Fire gathered in his free hand as he declared, “There can be no forgiveness for those who defy Archane…!” He flinched and tried to maneuver but was too slow to avoid the javelin. “-augh!”

All three turned around to Sir Sirius thinking the same thing: Where did he come from?

“It would be prudent to take the bridge before more block our path. I’ll alert the villagers and aid our rear guard!” he announced before galloping east.

“Yes, that would be wise,” Wendell concurred while surveying the north – more were approaching fast. “Sir Jagen! I could use some strong bodies up front!”

“On it!” Kris responded as she vaulted forward with her sword drawn. Caeda deposited Ogma across the river and took off, the former bracing himself as a dracoknight closed in.

“Get ready, Archbishop… and tell a damned archer to hurry up!” he barked.

Jubelo conjured a Fire spell to disorient the knight after it locked talons with Ogma’s blade. That was all he contributed before falling back with Yuliya – she wouldn’t critique him over cowardice today. It was a struggle to remove her attention from the chaos long enough to heal wounds. Not when the enemy seemed to single them out the most after Master Wendell… however, they dared not stray from him.

Building a cohesive formation gave them greater security: Master Wendell lead the procession, flanked by Kris and Ogma. Cain and Barst supported them from the flanks after catching up, the former forgoing his horse. Caeda ran the skies, targeting mages that harried the front and distracting their dracoknights. Gordin deterred flanking attempts from a rearward position while his teacher took the fore, wielding Parthia to breathtaking effect. Linde cast Aura with similar results, hesitating against mages but merciless toward the lone dracoknight she fought. Just days ago Yuliya feared being in the same room as these people; now they might be her most effective defenders… watching them clear the way gave her more appreciation than she’d admit.

Not even a quarter of the mages heeded Lord Wendell, and one who did fell to a peer shortly after. The bishop tasked with guarding the gates wouldn’t yield either, slain by Caeda and Ogma after turning his Bolganone on the archbishop. With the gates down and a clear path for the caravan, Wendell hurried to the administrative building just inside. That was where the commander was to oversee the defense in times of peril… if Arlen and Merric still followed protocol, he’d find them there. I must set those boys straight and stop this before-

“Aaaaah!”

“Huh!? What now… no!”

Wrested from his thoughts, he whipped around in distress to find Swarm bugs gnawing at his companions! Ugh, not again! But this must be the right place! He ran up the steps, located the two casters across the moat and ordered, “Stop! STOP! Haaah… these aren’t your enemies!”

The bishops gasped. “Archbishop!?”

“Yes, it’s me! Now please! Cease your casting and listen!”

Both closed their tomes, held them at their waists and dipped their heads remorsefully. “A thousand pardons, Lord Wendell! We were merely doing as instructed. Please, forgive our rudeness.”

Wendell uttered a deep sigh. “Thank you.” He glanced back to his comrades again while regaining his breath, no longer harried and a few following him up. “Now, if you’ll kindly explain what’s going on? I asked my apprentices to keep Khadein neutral, and yet I hear Arlen has sided with Archanea?”

“Yes, Lord Wendell, that is true. Arlen believed we would-”

“Spare me the details and tell me straight. Where are Merric and Arlen now?” he demanded.

Following a brief pause, the more vocal bishop stated, “…Lord Arlen deigned Merric a traitor after we received reports of an Altean vessel downriver. He mobilized our defenses and insisted he would deal with the traitor personally… Merric arrived a little while ago.”

Jubelo and Yuliya gasped in shock, and Master Wendell was practically pale when he turned around. “…Princess Yuliya, can you confirm…?”

She held up Rescue and hummed the incantation. The building’s main atrium soon came into view, and she quickly located Merric and Arlen bickering in the central chamber. Merric sounded baffled by Arlen’s hostility, the latter having none of it.

“Wait, Arlen! Why must we fight?! We’re both Master Wendell’s pupils, are we not? Friends?”
“I was Master Wendell’s disciple first, and I am your better! And yet he gave Excalibur to YOU!”

“I see them! Arlen is saying how Excalibur should have been his because…” She paused to take in Arlen’s rambling. “…now he’s accusing Merric of stealing Khadein’s secrets and selling out to Altea!”

“O-oh my…” Wendell and Jubelo were deeply disturbed by what they heard, particularly the former. He saw the parallels to a similar incident in the past, one that sprouted tragedy and turmoil… likewise, Linde clenched her free hand tightly with rage.

Yuliya flinched. “He- Arlen’s opening Thoron!”

“Get him out of there, Yuliya!”

“W-way ahead of you! …reach out! Bring him safely! RESCUE!”

She rushed the spell faster than ever, and in the same moment Merric appeared a thunderous crash echoed through the building. It took his mind a few moments to catch up with his new location. “Wait Arlen! This must be a misunder…?”

“Merric!”

“Oh?” He looked around in confusion as familiar faces swarmed him. “Master Wendell? Linde? Princess Caeda? Why are you all…”

“Are you alright Merric!?” Linde implored.

“…y-yeah, I’m fine. But…” He glanced to the side, where Jubelo comforted his panting sister.

“Princess Yuliya rescued you just in time,” Jagen concluded.

“…ah, yes. Just a minute ago Arlen was accosting me for, treason of all things! I would never betray Altea, or Khadein!” He put his palm to his head and pondered, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him…”

“Whatever it is, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Huh? Linde, what do you…” Merric’s eyes went wide when he saw her angrily stomping towards the right passage. He bolted in front of her and begged, “Wait! Linde, you can’t-!”

“I heard what he said! I’m not letting this madness go any further! Now get out of my way!” she demanded, trying to weave past while he continually blocked her.

“Linde, no! Arlen’s a friend! He’s not-”

“Merric, he just tried to blow you up! He’s too dangerous to be left alive!”

“You’re right Linde, he is dangerous. But as his teacher and father figure this is my responsibility.”

She turned around and shot the archbishop a doubtful look. Cain questioned, “Lord Wendell, are you sure that would be wise?”

“Even at his most delinquent Arlen’s always listened when I spoke my heart to him. If anyone can set him straight, it’s me,” he reiterated confidently. “Sir Jagen. Princess Caeda. Please, let me reach out to him first! It’s what your prince would want, yes?”

Jagen deferred to Caeda with a glance. She rapidly assessed everyone’s expressions, and after seeing Merric’s agreement she decided, “We’ll give you one chance, Archbishop. If you can talk some sense into him, that’d be great… Linde, stand down.”

“Hmph. Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms and walking back to Caeda’s side, ignoring Merric’s grateful smile. “I’ll be right here if you need me!”

“I trust it won’t come to that… everyone, get behind me. That includes you, Merric.”

Merric joined the group alongside Linde, but her refusal to look at him and their comrades’ drawn weapons dampened his cheer. Once everyone was gathered, Wendell motioned to Yuliya and sternly requested, “Princess, fetch Arlen for me.”

She stepped forward and held out her staff. “I’ll need your help with this, Master.”

Jubelo hurried to her left and offered, “I’ll help too! I want to help Arlen if we can!”

Wendell grabbed close to the bulb. “Thank you. Now Princess, if you’ll do the honors?”

She closed her eyes and instructed, “All right. Repeat after me. Guardian angel from above… rrrgh…” She lagged a moment trying to find him. “Hold still, jerk!”

There were two more stops throughout the spell, Arlen’s skulking making him difficult to lock on. But with persistence and two aides chanting alongside her Yuliya carried the spell to completion, and he too appeared in a flash of light. He spun wildly to get his bearings before spotting Merric in the background sparked his focus anew. “Who, what, where, how… MERRIC! Thought you could get away from-”

THWACK!

“Agh!” He staggered back and his clutched at the two red marks Rescue’s wings left on his forehead. “FFFF… mmotherfffucker…!”

“Where are your manners?” Yuliya chided, wagging her staff like a finger.

“Rrrrrgh… Princess, this does not concern…” He did a double take. “…wait. Princess?”

“That’s quite enough, Arlen!”

All the fire in his heart fizzled under a cold sweat. Yuliya flashed him a malicious sneer while pointing her staff to her right, and one look at Master Wendell’s severe grimace confirmed how badly he’d erred.

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. “M-M-Master Wendell. You’ve… … …returned.”

“Yes Arlen, I’ve returned! And to what?! You defy my wishes by allying with Archanea, deploy our Mage Corps against Alteans who come peacefully and try to slay your peer to claim Excalibur for yourself?”

“Master, that’s a lie! Merric was leading Altea here to-”

“No, THAT’S the lie! You were doing exactly what Master Wendell said! I heard it myself!”

“Princess Yuliya, you have no proof that I… I-I-I…”

His objection petered out when she pointed to Rescue’s bulb with a deadpan look. With this, DUUUUH. Merric used the silence to step a pace forward and say, “I wasn’t aware it was Altea on the horizon until you said as much.”

“Sigh… Arlen, we’ve been over that decision before. It’s true you’ve grown into a talented mage, one I’d proudly call my successor when the time came,” Wendell assured. “But Excalibur’s passing had nothing to do with Khadein’s succession. The spell’s essence chooses its master, and it was drawn to Merric not just for talent, but his compassion and humility.”

Arlen looked genuinely bewildered. “Compassion? Humility? Master, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying magic is about more than power and knowledge! Without heart, you risk losing yourself to baser impulses! It’s the same reason Mr. Rabenschrier deemed you unfit to study dark magic… why, if we hadn’t intervened you’d go down the same dark path as Gharnef!”

“Gharnef!?” He retched in disbelief. “…Master, do not compare me to that wretched ghoul!”

“Have you forgotten how the Dark Pontifex came to be? The tragedy that befell Pontifex Miloah because of it? Blast it Arlen, that happened within your lifetime, you’ve even met his daughter! You should know that following wrath and envy alone will lead to ruin, so why do I find you repeating that heinous act!?”

It finally dawned on Arlen how many people were watching. Said daughter included… most were glaring at him, but hers was downright murderous. His peers weren’t backing him up either – the two bishops behind him stared idly in silence, and a few mages stationed in the wings curiously peered in.

“Well, Arlen? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Despite burning up inside, he felt stiff as a block of ice. Alone under heat from his teacher with so many onlookers… it was as humiliating as it was mortifying! “Master, I… iiiit, wasn’t my idea! I swear! This, voice has been whispering in my head since…” His words were interrupted by a long, fatigued sigh from his teacher. “…Master?”

“Arlen, why? I tried so hard to be fair with you, to teach you right from wrong! I thought gifting you Thoron after Merric won Excalibur’s favor would show your merits as a mage, but even that wasn’t enough?” he pleaded, anger giving way to sorrow. “I didn’t realize those feelings ran so deep…”

“Master Wendell, i-it’s not like…” Arlen muttered. Guilt welled up as his teacher lowered his head in disappointment, his tone thick with defeat. But what truly brought it to a boil was his next line:

“To think you would harbor resentment towards me… have I failed you as your teacher, Arlen?”

“No… NO!! Master Wendell, do not fault yourself! The blame lies with me!!”

Even Wendell was taken aback when his student dropped to his knees, folded his hands beneath his forehead and pressed it to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Master! It was my mistake… ALL OF IT my mistake!! Please, find it in your heart to forgive me!” he begged loudly. “I-I’ll do anything… ANYTHING to regain your favor!!”

“Then pick yourself up, start back down the righteous path and use that talent for the good of others!”

“W-what?”

Alongside his teacher’s words, he felt several light prods to the head. Yuliya withdrew her staff when he rolled into a sitting posture and directed him toward Master Wendell, strict but weary in countenance. “You can start by making amends with Merric.”

“…Y-yes, Master,” he replied, stretching back to his feet as the wind mage stepped forward. It took him a moment to look that downhearted expression in the eyes and a few more to speak. “Merric, I… I’m, sorry for, making such… baseless accusations of you. Excalibur is rightfully yours. I was… misguided.”

“Arlen… I knew your opinion of me was always mixed, but I never expected they were this severe.” Arlen averted his gaze in shame, but Merric extended a hand and offered, “If there’s anything I’ve done to wrong you, please, let me know. I’d like to avoid a repeat and get back on the right foot”

“As would I… Merric,” he answered, hesitating until a stern look from their teacher prompted him to accept. His handshake was stiff and awkward. “And, the other Alteans?”

Caeda stepped forward flanked by Jagen and Cain. “We’ll speak on behalf of Prince Marth while he takes care of business outside the city. And you have a lot to prove before we say you’ve reformed, Arlen!”

“Understood… Princess, Caeda.”

Wendell promised, “Khadein will compensate Altea with proper hospitality. It’s the least we can do after this misunderstanding… Arlen, help me give the all-clear. They evidently answer to you more, and Merric’s been through enough today.”

Arlen affirmed him before they dispersed toward separate wings. Jubelo held some ambivalence but was overall relieved that it ended peacefully. Yuliya grimaced in disappointment, a sentiment the majority shared, and once they were out earshot Jagen commented, “Lord Wendell is too soft with that boy.”

“If this was Altea he’d be getting forty lashes!” Cain swore.

Linde sarcastically inquired, “Only forty?”

Merric objected, “Linde, Cain, please! We don’t need to go that far!”

Caeda stepped front and center and advised, “Merric, I won’t condone lashing for any offense, but if we arrived any later Arlen would have killed you! A stern talking to is hardly punishment.”

“But Khadein is not within our authority. If Master Wendell sees fit to punish him, he’ll be the judge,” Merric insisted. “And I know he’s done wrong, he’s made mistakes before. But Master Wendell’s always been able to guide Arlen back on the right path, and I trust he’ll do it again. Have faith.”

But Merric’s friends weren’t so sure. For them, only one thing was certain: Arlen committed a grave wrong, one that warranted far more than a verbal slap on the wrist. It’ll take monumental effort to prove that he can be trusted, Merric and Wendell’s vouching be damned.

Chapter Text

The archbishop’s return brought a swift end to Khadein’s antagonism. All present helped the caravan’s wagons through the gates, and Catria arrived alongside word of Archanea’s landing. She reported that Prince Marth would soon return with Queen Minerva and two shards in tow; flown by a wyvern, he’d surely reach the city first. The army shared a broad sense of relief, albeit tainted by the unexpected resistance. Many were displeased to learn who was responsible… and the extent of his consequences.

Some didn’t let that dampen their spirits. Samuel cared more about having walls between them and Archanea, and Marisha doted over a staff Marth’s squad retrieved. “Slobbering? Yuliya, it’s been months since I last held this! Miss Lena never got the chance to get it back, and I’ve been eyein’ opportunities to flex it!” she boasted, cradling the Thief staff while they crossed the city’s main square.

“And I will confiscate it again and hand it to Caeda if I hear people’s things start magically disappearing!”

She pouted and held it defensively. “Awwww! Why you gotta be a spoilsport, Princess!?”

“Marisha, we’re counting on these people to protect us! The last thing we need is to sabotage them,” Jubelo replied, tamer yet firm. “I’m with Yuliya. Consider it an order from your lieges.”

She flashed him an approving smile. “Well put, Brother… you heard him! If either of us hear about items going missing, you’re the first person we-”

“Is that you, Princess Yuliya?!”

A rush of nostalgia coincided with that womanly voice. Turning around, she and Jubelo were pleasantly surprised by the approaching clerics. “Oh, Miss Helen! Miss Sarah!”

“How have you been?”

“We’ve seen better days. No one expected Arlen calling us to war, or nearly jumping off the deep end… that aside, we’ve been alright,” Helen answered. “It’s you we were worried about!”

“Yes! We’ve been hearing awful rumors about Grust, mostly from Archanean students who sounded like they celebrated it! …We were afraid you wouldn’t survive!” Sarah exclaimed.

Both twins anxiously glanced aside. “Weee’ve had several close calls. Too many,” Yuliya muttered.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know you’re safe here… iiif Lord Wendell can talk down the approaching army.”

She wished she’d ended that sentence sooner. So did the twins, both starting to tremble… Yuliya however shook her head, firmed up and took Jubelo’s hand for comfort. “We’ve endured life-shattering conditions and triumphed before. We WILL be safe here, make no mistake!”

“Times like this I admire your persistence, Princess… and who’s your friend?”

“Her? Oh, this is Sister Marisha, a…” She looked over her shoulder and groaned upon seeing the cleric’s back turned, still pouting like a child. After rapping Marisha’s shoulder to get her attention she chided, “Show some respect! These are Helen and Sarah, our caretakers at Khadein! Ahem… Miss Helen, Miss Sarah, Sister Marisha. She’s Lady Lena’s student.”

Helen adopted a sly smile. “Ah, so you’re the girl Miss Lena mentioned while leaving us that staff.”

“Correct! You’re looking at the finest cleric in Grust! Educated in both the Hammerne and Thief staffs’ secrets!” With a devious grin, she boasted, “And with these talents I’ll surely steal my way into Prince Marth’s heart! Ooooh, they say his mind’s set on Caeda but I KNOW it isn’t so! Why else would that dreeeeeammyyy prince grace my humble village?”

“Of course. I can’t imagine he’d find better.” Heavens, and I thought YOU were a piece of work! She shared a smirk with Yuliya while the oblivious girl swooned.

Sarah inquired, “So are you two supporting Prince Marth now? What about your kingdom?”

“Grust is in no state to defend us. We ousted General Lang but most of our protectors have thrown their support behind Altea. As the bearers of our kingdom’s future, we decided it was safest to follow them… a-and pray that Archanea doesn’t come back while we’re gone,” Yuliya explained with a heavy heart.

She observed equal despondence in Jubelo. “Oh my. Then we’ll continue sending prayers for your countrymen… in the meantime, Archbishop Wendell offered your group hospitality. Shall we settle you back into your old quarters?”

“That would be nice… our belongings are in one of those wagons.”

Marisha cheered, “Whoopie! I can’t wait to raise my feet and take a load-”

“Don’t get excited Marisha! You’ll be sleeping in the barracks as usual.”

She uttered a low whine and sulked off. After she was a few paces away, Helen turned to Yuliya and asked, “I take it she’s normally a joy to work with?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Marisha’s a skilled cleric. She’s given me good advice that I didn’t learn here. Aside from that though?” She gestured deadpan toward the petulant girl. “You get the picture.”

Jubelo was already looking in wagons’ direction, all lined up across the square. He pointed to the leftmost and said, “I think it’s that one. Yuliya wanted our packs on the first wagon in line.”

It took some effort to retrieve their packs with how busy that corner was. Luke tried to flirt with the clerics before Roderick and Cecil thankfully dragged him away. They located the twins’ packs shortly after, but Dame Kris approached them before they could depart. “Excuse me. I want to apologize for my platoonmate’s boorish advances. I assure you Sir Jagen is setting him straight.”

“Much appreciated, Miss…”

Jubelo introduced, “This is Dame Kris. She’s Prince Marth’s Royal Guard and leader of the 7th Platoon… Kris, these are Miss Helen and Miss Sarah. They helped care for us last time we were here.”

“Oh, so they’re friends of yours! It’s nice to meet you!”

Helen clarified, “It was more like servants, but we shared some good memories. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Kris… and I heard you’re Prince Marth’s Royal Guard, correct?”

“That’s right. Why?”

She glanced to Sarah and muttered, “You think the others will object if we part with that?”

“After that experience, I think they’ll understand.”

“All right. One moment, please.”

Helen set Yuliya’s pack down to rummage through the purse at her waist and withdraw a small metallic card. Kris watched curiously and asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s a Silver Card. They’re rare vouchers that grant a steep discount from most merchants.”

Sarah explained, “We were planning a nice shopping day when the turmoil died down. But seeing as it’ll likely expire before Archanea sees peace, we think it’s better spent on your exploits.”

She happily accepted. “You’ll offer us something this valuable? Thank you! I’m sure Prince Marth and Sir Jagen will appreciate this!”

“Consider it our thanks! None of us wanted to be brought into battle but Arlen wouldn’t take no for an answer! We’re also grateful that your liege saved our charges’ kingdom,” Helen replied, the twins smiling over their acknowledgement.

Kris bowed politely. “You’re welcome. And we’re quite grateful that Khadein opens its doors to us. Our last two months have been a constant struggle!”

“I’m sure they have. Lord Wendell says you’ve been on the run since you left Grust. Please, take this time to rest and relax. It’ll be much safer in these walls now that…” She paused, and her eyes popped wider. “…I just remembered. Sarah, did you see Mr. Rabenschrier by chance?”

“Mr. Rabenschrier?”

“Mr. Rabenschrier is a sorcerer who joined Khadein shortly after these two. Etzel’s his first name. Despite his background in dark magic he quickly became an esteemed member of our school, and has offered great insight on its safe study,” Sarah elaborated.

Helen continued, “He offered to investigate an old monastery in the northwest corner of the city. It’s been closed for renovations, but residents reported strange noises starting yesterday evening. They claim there was this deep uweeheehee laugh.”

Uweeheehee!? Kris gasped, then suddenly appeared angry. LEGION!! “I’ll alert Prince Marth and assemble a search party immediately! Until then, stay away from that building!”

Her swift departure confused the clerics. “Okay… do you know what that was about?”

“Maybe it’s related to Archanea, or some other group? She described some assassins that were after Prince Marth once… that’s all I can tell you though,” Jubelo suggested.

“Whatever it is, I’ll sleep better knowing it was taken care of. Now, shall we settle you in?”

Helen retrieved Yuliya’s pack and the four set off for the archbishop’s residence. Traffic vanished after leaving the square, as most residents either assembled there or remained in hiding. With no panic over the gate being breached and assurance over the monastery, it seemed they might be at peace again.

Yuliya concluded, “So you’re saying Archanea is actually backing down.”

“For tonight, yes. We resume negotiations tomorrow morning. If one good thing came of this alliance, it’s that Sir Astram honors it.” Wendell then glanced irritably to his left and warned, “But that alone does not excuse all the trouble you caused, young man!”

Arlen shamefully kept his gaze down. “I understand, Master Wendell.”

“Don’t worry Arlen. We’ll help you find your way and ensure this never happens again!”

Silence hung until he peeked around and saw everyone’s suspenseful stares. He apprehensively dropped his eyes again but replied, “…Th-thank you, Merric…”

Yuliya asked, “So, what’s the next step towards his ‘redemption’?”

“Arlen shall atone through service. He’s already aiding in negotiations and will lend us his strength along the next leg of our journey,” Wendell stated.

“And what about those ‘voices’ he claimed to hear? Or was that just him talking to himself-”

Arlen rebutted, “Princess Yuliya, that voice misleading me was not my own. It was raspier. Like a you-know-who that you and Prince Jubelo would loathe seeing again.”

Raspy? What do you… uuuhhh… Yuliya contemplated for a few seconds until her eyes widened into a mortified stare. Jubelo must have reached the same conclusion given that he started shivering against her. “M-m-master Wendell, a-are you sure this is punishment enough!?”

“Princess, please! Let’s not be rash! Further violence won’t correct this,” he cautioned. “Still, Arlen, it is unacceptable. You’ve cloistered yourself from others for too long, and it’s left you vulnerable to the wrong influences! Archanea’s self-serving rhetoric, that shadow voice infiltrating your conscience… I expect you to seek new perspective during our journey. Both to understand the error of your ways and enrich your worldview.”

Merric popped enthusiastically. “Oh! I know where you can start! Linde might be perfect for this!”

“That has got to be the worst idea you can conceive of!”

He glanced in shock towards the cross-armed princess. “What? Princess Yuliya, Linde knows where this dark path leads better than anyone else!”

“And have you forgotten how angry she was at Arlen for trying to follow it? Or over how thin Master Wendell’s disciplining is? She won’t want any part in this.”

“Princess, Linde is a good friend of mine. She’ll listen!”

“Her father was a distinguished scholar of Khadein. If she has any honor upon his name, she’ll do her part.” Arlen stood and requested, “Merric. Take me to her so we can begin… um, please.”

The archbishop gave an austere nod and advised, “Be patient with her. You might not get all the answers you seek immediately.” After his two students exited, he faced the twins and continued, “Princess Yuliya, I understand your misgivings, and I agree Merric might be too rash about this. But we’re stretched for options, and a novel viewpoint-”

“Horse rubbish. Grust doesn’t excuse killers for trying when they didn’t succeed.”

“…Princess Yuliya von Grunia! Must I remind you Khadein is not within your jurisdiction!?”

“Maybe not, but she makes a strong point, Lord Wendell.”

All three turned to Eztel as he walked in, his cloak tattered and a small crack propagating across his monocle. Two strangers waited behind him: a tan woman with purple hair, a white headband securing an eyepatch and a scabbard at the hip; and a portly man with a thick brown mustache, ragged clothes and a horned helmet. Wendell exclaimed, “Etzel!? What on earth happened?! And who are they?”

Etzel leered vindictively to the side, in the same direction he passed Merric and Arlen. “I had my own altercation while Arlen was busy conducting his scheme… as for Dice and Malice here, you could say war and being assaulted by masked lunatics make strange bedfellows.”

Yuliya flatly asked, “Uuuuh, what?”

The swordswoman stepped halfway in and said, “I’ll give you the short of it. I’m Malice, my pop’s Dice. We’re sellswords who crossed with summa your friends a couple times.”

“Aye, this be the fourth time Ogma’s saved our hides!” Dice cheerfully mentioned.

Jubelo exclaimed, “You know Ogma too?!”

“Know ‘im? Boy, we woulda starved our first year if he didn’t come along!”

“That was our first time in Talys. Second time, we didn’t realize we were hired for a coup. Jumped ship when we learned, Princess compensates us well, no hard feelings,” she explained while counting with her fingers. “Then we get hired a year later for what turned out an ambush on her fiancé! They show once again, we throw the fight and walk away fine n’ dandy. Until more of our last employer started huntin’ us down all the way here!”

An astonished Wendell remarked, “My my, sounds like you’ve had an adventure.”

Yuliya agreed, “Yes, but… did you say more of your employer?”

Etzel clarified, “Indeed. Arlen sent me to investigate the old monastery after I objected to fighting Altean pilgrims, and I found these two cornered by that masked villain. I caught him off-guard and my spell made short work, but duplicates appeared and trapped us in the reflection room’s central chamber. We vanquished two more before an Altean search party came to our rescue.”

Wendell raised an eyebrow. “Duplicates?”

“So was this Arlen’s trap too?” Yuliya accused.

“No, they seem to be an independent group. Prince Marth’s guard, Dame Kris, says Altea has done battle with these rogues before. This one was called Legion – a fitting name, given his apparent ability to create copies of himself. Merric described him to me last year suspecting dark magic was involved, and after witnessing him myself I can certainly confirm.”

“Like?”

“Identical copies operating as a hive mind under the original. Rapid desiccation upon death. The horde going catatonic after that masked knight slew the head Legion,” he described.

Jubelo cocked his head. “Masked knight? You mean Sir Sirius?”

“Yup, him. He came with Altea’s group last time too. Real mysterious but I won’t say no to his help. Also a lot more polite than that thundergrump we crossed in…” Malice paused after catching Yuliya’s snickers. “…what’re you grinning ‘bout, kid?”

“Hehe! You just reminded me of my old nickname for him. Mr. Thundergrumps.”

She smirked. “Heh! Strange minds think alike.”

Jubelo rolled his eyes. Wendell sighed and said, “So we’ve established what Etzel was doing and how you met. What will you do now?”

“See if Prince Marth’ll hire us. Caeda offered back in Grust but we usually don’t take long jobs. Still, if these shadowy goons keep chasing us, safer than goin’ it alone.”

“Suppose it don’t hurt ta gamble on a change’a pace every now n’ again! …Speaking of which, ya know where the nearest tavern-”

“Gambling is forbidden within the city.”

Dice stopped mid-sentence. “…oh. …Welp. We’ll find sumthin’ ta toil the night away.”

Malice patted her sullen father’s back and flashed the group her chagrin while passing the doorway. Yeah, he’s a pain like this most days. Etzel closed the door and resumed, “Which brings me back to said thundergrump. Archbishop, I understand your love for Arlen and I agree he can be redeemed. But your light resolution worries me that you aren’t taking this seriously enough.”

“Etzel, I’m taking this very seriously! It appalls me what lows he’s stooped to, even after all I’ve done for him! I… I…” The archbishop’s temper withered away as feelings of helplessness saddened him. “…I, just don’t know what more I can do for that boy. I’ve tried so hard!”

Yuliya stated, “Master, how many times must I repeat myself? Punish. Him.”

Etzel concurred, “While I would not go to lengths the Princess likely has in mind, I agree that harsh words alone are not enough.”

“Arlen will work off his debts through service, Etzel. He’s already helped in negotiating a ceasefire and he’ll put his talent to good use on our journey.”

“Even so, I recommend you take some punitive action. At least confiscate his Thoron tome, if only outside of battle, as a reminder of his mistakes. And to stymie a sudden relapse, of course.”

Wendell rose. “I’ll think about it. If you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend.”

Etzel shifted aside so the archbishop could exit, fatigued in both body and mind given he neglected to close the door. Jubelo felt sorry for their teacher until an indifferent huff startled him:

“Puuh.”

He looked right to see Yuliya slide back in bed, tuck her legs to pivot sideways, lean a pillow against the headboard and recline with one leg crossed over the one. “He’s not gonna do it.”

“Yuliya, Master Wendell’s doing all he can to-”

“He’s not doing all he needs to! He’ll blast a dracoknight off his mount for killing a fellow mage, but he can’t lift anything beyond his voice to Arlen for trying the same? And why would Khadein even follow him anyway, with how grouchy and antisocial he is?”

“You’d be surprised. Arlen can be quite charismatic when he puts his mind to it. His words carry a strong charge, and unlike Merric he’s not dual-hooded. When he preaches a unified sense of identity, we believe it,” Etzel praised. “I’ll admit, I’ve found myself swayed by his rhetoric a few times even when it veered toward the extreme. I must be more mindful going forward…”

Jubelo nodded in agreement, but she remained unfazed. I’ll believe it when I see it. “Whatever. My point is, Master Wendell’s as much a disappointment as his son.” She looked back down dismissively and murmured, “Like son like father, I guess.”

Her words struck harder than Jubelo was brave enough to admit. He glanced to Etzel, who excused himself with, “I ought to make sure Merric’s pluck doesn’t blow somebody up,” before walking out and shutting the door. Idly searching the room found no help, and after accepting that he was alone he slid back next to her. “Yuliya… I, get that Arlen’s done some bad things…”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I-I know! I know! But… he’s done some good for us before! Me especially! His lessons and way of teaching helped me with my magic.”

She ignored him, keeping her bored gaze over the text.

“…Listen to what Etzel and Merric say. And Caeda! They all think he can be redeemed too! And, maybe Linde will be willing to listen if Merric-”

“Suuurre. She’ll listen. Then she’ll say a few kind words and eeeverything Arlen did wrong will be fiiixed!” Yuliya replied, backing her faux whimsy with a cheesy smile. Once certain he got the sarcasm she stuck out her tongue and returned to reading. “Right. He’ll be browned and hung like Lang first.”

Jubelo slid away with a mortified stare. “I’ll, uh… I-I’m, taking a quick walk.”

His heart beat rapidly and sweat dampened his forehead as he scampered out. The atmosphere seemed different even after walking this sunlit hall countless times… returning to Khadein should have been a happy occasion. He wanted to believe Arlen would turn over a new leaf despite everyone’s doubts. With how guilty he acted in front of Master Wendell, it seemed promising. But nearly everyone sided against him; and while he longed to share Merric’s pure optimism, he had to admit they held valid grievances. A small corner of his heart feared they were right; that Arlen might still close himself off to change…

What concerned him most, however, was Yuliya. She spoke so callously not just of him, but Master Wendell too. It disturbed him how rapidly she expressed her loss of faith… Jubelo prayed this was only temporary. It didn’t bode well to him if the sentiment stuck.

Chapter Text

Despite tumultuous events and the saddening, senseless loss of life, Khadein bounced back. A few shops reopened in the late afternoon to try and squeeze out the remaining business hours, and by the next day the markets were back in full swing. Archanea camped just south of the oasis; foreign travel was blocked, but they permitted traffic between the city and adjacent settlements. Compared to Lang’s ruinous reign over Grust, it was surprising how civil Astram’s corps acted.

Classes were cancelled until the occupation was resolved, but the twins found opportunities to advance their studies in private. Merric introduced Jubelo to ice magic, a subset of wind that would be invaluable for their coming journey. At the other end of the table Yuliya gave Linde a chance to educate her on light magic, a camp that supposedly toed the line between black and white magic. For how stormy they acted yesterday, it soothed him seeing them together on friendly terms.

“Nicely done, Prince Jubelo! Now, let the air flow. Let it cool. You might feel something but-” Merric paused as he flinched, losing the spell’s momentum. “…it was a good first effort!”

“Yeah… thanks Merric. I’m not used to feeling a rush of cold around my hands.” It might have been easier without you talking over it…

“Understandable! Wind naturally cools as it gains speed, and ice spells amplify this property. You cope with it the same way you handle fire’s heat, albeit in reverse.”

“I know Merric. Focus on the technique and I’ll get accustomed to it. I tried that Shaver and learned to cast it, uh… semi-proficiently.”

“Is that so? That’s quite an improvement since our last lesson! Perhaps your talent in fire is starting to bleed into the next corner of the triangle!”

Jubelo scratched his head. “Bleed into the next…?”

“Recall how the anima magics are roughly arranged into a triangle. Centered on fire, wind and thunder magic… well, these corners’ techniques usually translate to one another in a pattern. Fire feeds on wind, wind affects thunder’s propagation, and thunder is a purer form of energy than fire,” Merric exposited, his swift words leaving the prince more baffled. “We recommend learning the elements in that order because it follows the natural cycle. Arlen and I speculated your natural affinity is fire, since you’ve been focusing on that pretty comfortably. So it’s little surprise wind is the next element you grasp!”

“Very enlightening Merric, but can you keep it down?! I’m trying to wrap my head around Linde’s material!” Yuliya complained.

“O-oh! Apologies, Princess Yuliya! I’ll try to keep my voice lower… now Prince, it might help if…”

While Merric slowly helped Jubelo understand these fresh concepts, Yuliya’s lesson showed minimal progress. Half of it was light magic being an abstract subject, blending principles of faith and reason in ways she was not accustomed to. Worse, Linde’s attempts to clarify only created more frustration… while her talents in the field were unquestionable, they clearly didn’t include communicating it.

“When you find your inner light, what you need to do is, well…” She tapped her chin trying to plot an explanation. “…what I do is… let it flow out! Like a source of heat, like a candle! That’s the best way I can describe it. I…” She closed her eyes, raised two fingers, and with a smile and hum produced a modest white-gold glow concentrated in a halo. “…like that. Channel your happiness through the spell and it’ll give you light. Does that make any sense?”

“Uuumm… no.”

Linde sighed, slumped and let the light flicker out. “Darn. It’s so simple to me.”

“Well, you were born with a golden tome in your palm! Most of us can’t boast a natural gift for light magic, and I’m barely making heads or tails of this!” Yuliya whined, gesturing to the open tome.

“Sorry Princess, I’m not really used to teaching this… or, at all. Father said light magic requires a personal understanding to master. Something everyone comes to in his or her own way… still, I always excelled under his tutelage.”

“Yeah, because you’re his daughter. However he learned, you must have inherited his style. Meanwhile, that style is clearly not working for me! I’m not getting how Nosferatu is a light spell either! Shouldn’t a spirit that steals others’ life force be aligned with dark magic?”

Linde looked back up. “Well, the spirits aren’t always straightforward in their allegiance. Some speculate it’s because healing yourself is a form of…” Her eyes suddenly widened for a second, then she grouchily lowered her gaze again. “…let’s, try a more intensive review and see if that helps.”

Yuliya raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Have you reconsidered our request?”

Oh, of course.

It should have been obvious. Glancing over her shoulder, Arlen’s stern mien gazed over her toward the light mage. His appearance also prompted Merric and Jubelo to stop their lesson, curious to see if they’d finally make progress… fat chance. Linde continued to ignore Arlen even as he circled to her left. “I asked you a question! Have you reconsidered our request? …HEY!” He impatiently waved a hand near the ceiling of her vision; all she did was furrow her brow. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!”

“Leave. I’m teaching Princess Yuliya.”

“This is more important!”

“More important than the Princess of Grust’s lesson?” Yuliya shot back. His glare shifted to her, but she was not intimidated. “Go ahead. Take it to Master Wendell. I can tell him how rudely you interrupted us. I have several witnesses right here.”

He snarled in frustration. “…Fine. You’ll finish your lesson, then meet me-”

“Not happening.”

Arlen slammed a palm on the table. “WHAT!?”

Merric implored, “Linde, please! Listen to him! Arlen needs this!”

Arlen leaned in close and insisted, “How about listening to you frieend? Merric and Master Wendell said y- …yi-YIGHghgh…!”

Leaning in close was a mistake. She sent him frantically lurching back by raising two fingers, alight with an arc of electricity between them, over her shoulder and toward his face. “Merric said it. I. DIDN’T.”

“Linde!” Merric scolded.

“Hah, why you indignant… Didn’t your father ever teach you manners!?”

Yuliya stood up. “Didn’t Master Wendell teach you manners? Or how to get a clue, like realizing she isn’t talking to you, Mr. Thundergrumps!”

“Princess, this is between me and… you…!!” He clenched his teeth tightly and turned fuming red upon catching his old nickname. “Prrrincess Yuliya, I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!!”

“And I’m telling you to pound sand like she is! So how about taking your hissy fit outside? You’ll find plenty there.” She returned to her seat and added, “Make us a nice glass sculpture while you’re at it.”

Arlen felt sparks crackle through his fists. He was seething, humiliated by that sassy child who kept smirking from her seat. Linde peeped an eye toward him before hunching over, fighting back laughter… Oh, NOW she looks at me! All while Merric and Prince Jubelo just sat there being pitiful and unhelpful.

He stomped off after a few seconds mumbling vulgarities under his breath. Merric chastised, “Princess Yuliya, how could you be so rude! Arlen was looking for help!”

“Oh come on Merric! I warned you about this yesterday! And I didn’t see you scolding him for buzzing over Linde like a mosquito!”

“Well, you could have told him more gently!” He then faced Linde, over her bout of humor and frowning at him. “And you, Linde! All I ask is that you show a bit of compassion!”

“Merric, he’s done nothing to deserve or even ask it! He turned on his own peers and nearly killed you for it! You know how sensitive that is to me!” she retorted.

“Linde…” Merric breathed, struck a calmer tone and pleaded, “…Linde, I get why you’re still angry. But Arlen isn’t acting out of malice! He’s confused… he’s lost his way and needs our help!”

“He isn’t a child! Arlen is old enough to know right from wrong, it’s his own fault for taking the wrong path! And why do you insist this is my responsibility?! I already told you to leave me out of it!”

“But Master Wendell and I can’t do this by ourselves! We’ve tried getting through to him time and again, and nothing sticks! That’s why we need you, Linde! You offer a fresh perspective, one with prior experience. With your insight and a gentle hand he too might understand, and it may be just what teaches him the good cooperation can do!” With a smile, he then suggested, “And who knows. Maybe with clarity he’ll become a great friend to you too… or something more.”

Yuliya planted her forehead on the table. You are HOPELESS!

Jubelo flipped back and forth between the two. From that gaping, flabbergasted look of disgust frozen on Linde’s face to Merric’s innocent smile fading more with every pass. After half a minute of silence the former screamed, “MERRIC are you out of your damned MIND!?”

“L-Linde!? …N-no! I think you’d be a great influence-”

“To hell with influence! Arlen tried to MURDER you yesterday in the same vein as my hated enemy! Now you expect me consider him a friend, let alone ANYTHING ELSE!?”

“Linde, listen! He’s a fellow mage! He’s one of us…”

She sprung from her seat and demanded, “No Merric, YOU listen! First, Arlen’s mistakes are his responsibility, not mine! If you just to help so badly, you and Wendell can try harder!”

Merric also rose. “Linde, I told you we’re-”

“Second, I never liked that walking raincloud from the start! I didn’t consider him a friend before he tried becoming the next Gharnef, and if I were you I’d be second-guessing my own friendship!”

He gasped. “…Linde!”

She snatched her tome off the table and clapped it shut, rousing Yuliya in the process. “Third, I am not ‘one of you!’ And if this is how Khadein dances around problems, THEN I DON’T WANT TO BE!”

“Linde! Wait! Please, if you’ll let me explain… Linde!”

His beckoning feel on deaf ears. Linde stormed out heedless of his attempts to flag her down, and after she vanished under the archway Merric stopped and clasped his temples. “Uuuunngg…! Linde, why now? We never fought like this before…”

Yuliya cleared her ears and stood back up. “Merric, this is EXACTLY what you should have expec-”

“Princess Yuliya? I’d like a word with you about your behavior!” Wendell’s stern voice called.

She gulped. “Coming, Master Wendell!” Tattletale…

Jubelo received an anxious look before she reluctantly exited. He felt similarly concerned, fidgeting in his seat while Merric pulled his hood over and plodded back to his seat. It felt like all joy was sucked from the air. “Um, Merric? May I be excused?”

“Siiigh. Sure, Prince. Class is cancelled.”

“Thank you…”

He pushed his seat in and hurried down the same hall Linde departed. She wasn’t going that fast. Maybe I can catch up with her… “Linde? Are you there?” he called out.

“Prince Jubelo?”

She was around the next corner, looking back over her shoulder. Though visibly tense, she was starting to unwind and softened slightly when he came into view. “Is there something you need, Prince Jubelo? Or, are you upset about the lesson falling apart?”

“A little, but… I just wanted to share my experiences.”

Her brow slumped. “Don’t tell me you mean to pin Arlen on me too!”

“I-I’m not! That’s his fault, I get it! But…” He paused to steel himself and choose his words. “…look, I know Arlen can be a bit of a jerk.”

“That’s putting it real lightly.”

“Mm, maybe it is! But still…” Easy Jubelo. You can do this… “…for, for all his faults, he’s been a friend I can count on. He wasn’t always happy about watching us but he met Yuliya and I’s needs. Sometimes I feel like he listens better than Merric.”

Linde raised an eyebrow.

“I mean that! He pays better attention to our feelings at times, and I actually prefer his stricter, quieter teacher style! I’m not questioning Merric’s abilities, just… a-anyway. Even if you won’t help for his sake, maybe do it for ours?” he requested, smiling despite her dubious gaze. “I get that it’ll take time. Yuliya’s probably right, now is too soon… but, Merric wants to help him, and so do I! So, maybe for us… once things cool down, y-you could…?”

She glanced aside pensively. “Well, maybe for you and Merric’s, I’ll consider it. But…” With a severe demeanor she renewed eye contact and asserted, “…but, it’s going to take time. We’re not on speaking terms right now, and if he tries to target Merric again, then as an acquaintance of mine would say… heads will roll, Prince Jubelo.”

Jubelo was aghast. For a split second despair dominated his thoughts… but then anger rose to the forefront. It bubbled up rapidly with how apathetically she started walking away. His upper body tremored, and right before she disappeared around a corner he blurted out, “Well, IT BETTER NOT COME TO THAT! Otherwise, you can forget about having friends!”

Linde gasped and stared back in shock. For several seconds the prince held his furious scowl, while her wide eyes drooped into ambivalence. Initially it seemed like she might respond, but instead she turned away and left with far faster steps.

Panting heavily, he slumped forward to relax before righting himself and reflecting on how intense he sounded. Did I really just…? If it was Yuliya, he wouldn’t be surprised. She let her temper fly very easily sometimes – but for him to react that strongly?

For all that her words revolted him, he didn’t know how to feel about expressing it that way. Yuliya would be proud, sure, and so would Arlen. But he couldn’t revel when it was so foreign to him. When was the last time he reacted like that, if he ever was that angry to begin with? And she seemed just as surprised… hurt, even. It was hard to shake the moment while he wandered through Khadein’s halls with no particular destination in mind.

“Jubelo? Are you okay?!”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his thoughts and saw a green head running towards him. “Ryan?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? You looked like you saw… things,” he replied. “I don’t know how to describe it better. You just seemed, spaced out is all.”

“Ah. I’ll be fine… I, well… Linde said some things that angered me, and I just… snapped back.” He lowered his gaze and murmured, “I don’t wanna talk about what we said.”

Ryan walked alongside him and patted his shoulder. “Okay… the way you describe it, that reminds me of when Big Brother had enough with our bullies. I was shocked, scared even, when he lunged at the other boys! I never saw him get that angry before!”

“Uh-huh… I-I didn’t attack her though, I just spoke my mind… harshly.”

He smiled. “Well, at least no one got hurt. And I get that it’s hard to be loud. Why, I’m still not used to raising my voice like he can!”

Jubelo grinned and chuckled. “Haha! I can say the same of me and Yuliya.”

“So, what are you doing now? I thought you were studying with Merric and Linde this morning?”

“We were, but it fell apart when they fought over Arlen. Merric’s bummed about it and Master Wendell’s scolding Yuliya for badmouthing him. So that’s over.” He looked ahead idly and decided to lay that topic to rest. “Ogma says sword training has to wait until talks with Archanea are finished.”

“Well, you know your way around Khadein, right? Maybe you can show me? We tried finding places to pass the time but we keep getting lost. It’s so big…”

He started glancing all over the halls, looking freaked out. Jubelo tapped his arm to snap him out and replied, “Sure, Ryan. It took some getting used to when we first arrived.”

“Oh! Thanks! I-I was, kinda lost myself,” he admitted, blushing lightly. “Kris thought if we split up we might cover more ground, but…”

“Not a good idea when no one know where you’re going. I get it… follow me. Khadein marks its main pathways so that people can find their way out of larger buildings. Maybe we’ll find the rest of your platoon along the way.”

Ryan looked more relaxed now that he had a guide, and Jubelo felt the same. He needed to take his mind off that argument… it still flashed through his head now and again, but focusing on his friend’s words pushed it back to the depths.

Gordin stopped adjusting the bowstring to gawk. “He said that?”

“Yes. I kid you not. Linde took it poorly as you might expect.”

He shook his head. “Uuuuugh! Merric you…”

“Doofus? Moron? Imbecile? Fucking idi-” Yuliya flinched when he gasped. “…I-I-I, was, just repeating things Arlen say about him, sir!”

“Yes, and they are not words I should hear from a princess your age!”

She shyly looked down. “I know, sir… you could say Arlen wasn’t the best influence. One time he nearly called me a little B-word after-”

There was a loud snap as Gordin twitched, dropping the bow. “He called you WHAT!!”

“R-relax! Relax! I told Master Wendell about that… hehe…” Her nervousness faded under a mischievous giggle. “You should have heard how furious he was!”

“I sure hope he was furious! That isn’t acceptable around any child!” He leaned forward, picked the bow up and started stringing it from scratch. “Still, I hate to admit, but he’s not wrong about Merric. This isn’t the first time he’s said or done something boneheaded.”

“Like what? Showing you a magic trick while you were scared stiff of it as a first impression?”

Gordin blinked. “…Did that happen when you…” She angrily nodded. Jeez, Merric! Seriously? “…not with me. Mine was talking all about Excalibur while I was still green and struggling.”

“Ah… well, that doesn’t sound much nicer.”

“It wasn’t bragging or trying to be rude, he was genuinely excited. Thing is, I don’t study magic so, I’m scratching my head over half of what he says. Several times I wished he would go bother somebody us, but I’m the one Altean knight his age, and hey! You gave green hair, just like me!” He added a whimsical tone and goofy smile to that last line before dropping back to a grumpy deadpan.

Yuliya snickered in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds like something he’d say.”

“Nice guy, but he needs to watch where he steps! …Anyway, I’m glad you stood up for Linde. She doesn’t need him and Arlen hounding her now. Especially not him.”

“Well, he doesn’t deserve her time! And no one deserves his moody, broody self!”

“Hey, it’s an improvement over your past interactions. Just saying.”

He glanced down to secure the string, and after giving it a light pluck stood up and adopted a shooting stance. “Okay Princess Yuliya, let’s test this draw weight. I want you to draw it lightly like I do. There should be some resistance but don’t strain yourself. We want something that you can sustain over practice.” With three fingers he slowly pulled the string just past his left shoulder, then stopped and fed it back into rest. “Like that. Try not to let it snap without nocking an arrow.”

She hopped to her feet, accepted the bow and raised it with her left arm. Gripping the string with her right, she felt pressure against her fingers as she drew. The archery glove offered good padding, but by half-draw the tension was starting to become stressful… while she persevered and brought it to shoulder length, one look at Sir Gordin’s expression said it all. That string was too tight – her arm trembled heavily as she undrew it, and she gasped for air while handing the bow back to Gordin in defeat.

“Yeah, I overdid it. Sorry about that.” He noticed her pout as they sat back down and encouraged, “Don’t worry Yuliya. With enough training, you’ll be pulling strings tighter than that someday!”

His assurance did little to soothe the burning reminder in her arm. Someday I won’t be this weak… “So, can we agree Master Wendell is taking Arlen too lightly?”

“The whole order agrees. Cain, Draug and I talked about it last night. An Altean knight would be stripped of his rank and title and thrown in prison, and that’s being optimistic. With Sir Jagen in charge, he’d definitely feel worse… you’ll have to ask him or Cain about an exact penalty, though.” He finished loosening the string and resecured it. “Okay Princess, how about this?”

She stayed seated and simply repeated the upper body motions. This time the draw came easier… she might have asked a little tighter if she wasn’t eager to start practicing. If this can launch arrows, it’s good enough. “Yes, this will do. Next time, you’ll show me how to string the bow myself.”

Really? I didn’t think you’d ask this soon. Maybe I’ll put more emphasis on this earlier, Gordin contemplated. …I shouldn’t overthink it. We can test it before writing it down. “All right Princess, but today, let’s focus on basic technique.”

He gave a rundown of archery terms and the bow’s structure before leading her through a series of exercises. How to nock and hold an arrow, proper posture, good draw etiquette… after three practice shots to determine her range, he set her up with a caddie and six arrows. Yuliya was allowed to empty it the first round free of input, with Gordin saving his critique until after she finished; the second time, he was reminding her about posture between shots. He stopped her twice to give another demonstration, and after several rounds he truncated his instructions into short quips mid-draw: “Straighten the back.” “Feet parallel.” “Level shoulders.”

It was frustrating how much he emphasized that when her aim was embarrassing. Holding the bow steady and keeping the arrow loaded were challenging without having to keep picture-perfect posture at the same time! Many shots flew askew more than she liked, with maybe one in six or seven hitting the inner rings while one in twenty coming close to the bullseye. Some missed the target entirely, or clipped the edge and bounced. The one time she brought it up he said not to worry about it for now, even with her shortcomings scattered across the ground… it was fortuitous that they were the only ones in the training grounds. She’d be humiliated if anybody saw the Princess of Grust’s laughable aim.

Still, she noticed subtle improvements. Gordin’s correction became less frequent, and after several more attempts she finally landed all six shots! None hit within the inner two sections, but getting them all on the target in one go was an accomplishment. Gordin seemed to agree, clapping and saying, “Okay Yuliya, I think that’s a good first day. How do you feel?”

She leaned her bow against the caddie and flexed her fingers. “A little sore. Stiff.”

“That’s how it normally feels after a good training session. And you’re coming along nicely! Your form is starting to steady out and your aim’s developing with it!”

While strolling toward the target she responded, “Uh-huh.”

“Is there a reason you sound displeased?”

“That it took you until now to comment on my aim. Even when I have the accuracy of a doddering oaf!” she complained while pulling out her arrows.

“Princess, everyone misses shots when they start. Ryan did, and so did I.”

“Then why do you keep obsessing over maintaining perfect form? Why do I have to keep my shoulders level, or my feet apart, or… or…!?”

“Princess Yuliya. Breathe.”

She shut her eyes, took a deep breath and let the stress drain, just like Master Wendell taught her. Then she returned her bundle of arrows to the caddie before crossing her arms and facing Sir Gordin, irately but patiently expecting an answer.

“Form is more important than you think. When I trained under Gra’s program they didn’t put enough emphasis on keeping good posture. It’s the first thing Master Jeorge cleaned up with me, and I saw immediate results when I finally took it to heart. I saw it happen again in Ryan, and it’s the same for you! Have you noticed your spread getting narrower the more you practice?”

Yuliya thought back to her last few rounds, and how she kept pushing herself with every volley. You only missed ONE SHOT that time! Come on! It also coincided with fewer reprimands from him, eventually culminating in her first “perfect” round. “Yes, I do. And you were calling me out less.”

“That’s because you were getting it. Solid form’s the key to marksmanship. Archery has many variables, but the one you can control the most is your body. You can have the best eyes in the world, and it’ll be worthless if you can’t aim and shoot straight,” he explained. “Tell me, Princess. Has your clerical training allowed you to take shortcuts and still get the spell you want?”

“Yes. I’ve rushed through spells with…” She paused. “…wait. That’s what this is about!”

“Precisely! It’s a lot to juggle at first, but the more you practice the motions the more you internalize them. Once you have the muscle memory down, you can trust your body to fall in line while devoting your focus to the finer details.”

She nodded. “I think I understand, sir.”

“It’s what separates the novice from the master. Rookie archers have to think about movements that snipers roll through like a wheel. It leaves them slow and clumsy in the heat of battle. Master Jeorge says Archanea rarely fields archers outside of castle defense for that very reason. It’s too easy for an untrained archer to lag during more fast-paced operations, get himself killed and let all that training go to waste. I would know, I’ve had several close calls…”

Yuliya felt trepidant when Sir Gordin glanced anxiously to the side, before renewing eye contact with a graver expression. “That’s why I don’t want you bringing any of what I teach you into battle until you’re ready. Archery has a steep learning curve, and leaping too early is the surest way to fall.”

She matched his severe gaze and saluted. “Yes. I won’t disobey, Master Gordin!”

Gordin’s eyes widened. “Master? …Yuliya, you don’t need to call me-”

“It’s a sign of respect to my teacher. I say it with pride,” she insisted.

He started to blush. “…That’s nice of you Princess, but really. It isn’t necessary-”

“What do you expect? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Gordin sighed and rolled his eyes as his mentor sidestepped around an archway with a wry smile. “How long have you been watching?”