[b][center]Vesta & Lady Renata[/center][/b] Although Vesta slept, it would be impossible to say that she rested. She spent the night tossing and turning as nightmarish dreams of the past assaulted her and awoke that morning feeling more exhausted and stiff than ever. She eased herself to the edge of the bed, her head humming with a hangover, and grabbed for her flask. The container lifted up as if it was as light as air and she knew it was empty, not even bothering to unscrew the cap so that she could lamely attempt to lap up a few splashes of the hair of the dog. A window said that it was still dark out and a clock said that it should've been light out, meaning either the window was wrong or the Lady of Demon's needed to properly wind her clocks. Vesta pushed herself off of the bed. Her knee flared up in pain as it always did in the morning, but she forced herself to walk it off instead of steadying herself against the nightstand. Grimacing, she stepped into the hallway and made her way to the bath, ready to double back if anyone tried to greet her with a good morning. The last thing her headache needed was one of her travelling companions. The bath had already been drawn before she had arrived and was just the right temperature where it stung when she stepped in but did not cook her afterwards. Although the bath was relaxing and Vesta tried hard to enjoy it, her mind couldn't help but drift to the past day as she sunk underneath the water. A large part of her wished it had never occurred and another part of her wished she had learned to just shut up. It wasn't even the conversation with Ambrosia that brought the thought on, although Vesta truly prayed that Cyril and Ayano never, ever asked her any questions about it. Rather, she wished that she hadn't heard what information Karin had offered them, if only because it gave more raise to problems than solutions. A day ago and Vesta was certain that if they lopped off Gartian's head they'd be fine. Now, thanks to Karin avoiding her question, she didn't even know where they could start, let alone if it was even possible for them to do anything. Immortality might be boring for some as Karin said, but apparently they made up for that boredom by being cryptic and indirect as if they forgot that, unlike them, some people have to worry about their bodies stopping and their minds decaying. She emerged from the water and, much to her surprise, found her clothes had been folded and put dry bench across the room. Likewise, fresh food was next to the tub. What would have been a pleasant surprise to some was an alarming shock to Vesta as she thought, [i]Speaking of decaying minds.[/i] She hobbled out of the tub, quickly dried off, and got dressed. Her clothes smelled fresh, as if the had just been laundered, and had a strange crispness to them that was almost uncomfortable. She went as quickly as she could from the bathroom, although pure hunger did force her to gobble down the breakfast greedily as she stumbled out into the eerily silent hall. Uncertain of where to go, but certainly aware that she did not want to run into any o her companions, she headed off in the opposite direction of the guest rooms. It wasn't long before she wandered herself into a narrow hallway, a dead end if not for the set of doors all the way down it. Every door throughout the Renata Household was ornate, but these two doors happened to be more ornate than the rest, like the ones that led into the dining room everyone had been led to the day before. Apparently she was meant to find these two rather than simply being led to them however, because as she approached and saw the doors they suddenly swung inward on their own, standing open for her. Through she would be able to see the beginnings of the room, and perhaps it would be this brief sight that drew her through the doors. The effect of the full room had much more significant impact than simply catching a glimpse, however. If a room could be more than merely perfectly clean, this room would have been a prime example of it. Carefully maintained and organized, display stands and cases made of dark wood and glass when necessary stood proud throughout the entire long room, creating rows with their positions. The room was more than long enough for each piece within the display cases and stands to not be too cramped together, so with how many pieces there were it meant the room extended on for a fair while. Each piece was art in its own right, the kind of art that could only be achieved with a perfect grasp of focus and efficiency in mind; weapons and armor. Of those that Vesta could recognize, she would realize that there were complete sets of modern day armor from all nations towards the beginning, not only from Barcea and H'kela to even a sort of set from Gurata, but also the West as well, and the new nations flourishing there. The farther she went into the room, the older the sets became, as she would soon recognize sets from each of the God Kings' respective armies and the Rebellion as well. Soon she would start seeing older sets of each of the nations she knew, such as Barcean armor from her time... But, more quickly than she might have expected, she began seeing sets of armor and weapons that she didn't recognize at all, from nations and times long gone. The number of how many sets there were that she couldn't recognize quickly grew. Interestingly enough, here and there pieces were set standalone, such as a strange curved and twisting blade here and a large helm in the shape of a boar there; perhaps she realized that these had once belonged to heroes and villains of recent days in some cases or thought only to be stories in other, and perhaps she would realize that many of them belonged to people that were long forgotten. When she finally reached the end of the long room, the grandest set was waiting for her. Stood against and in some places hanging against the back wall, the last set was clearly a collection of sorts. Armor built for a tall, powerful man stood in front of her, the dark red plates coming together seamlessly, forged with an art that had been long lost. A shield of the same color was above the armor, a symbol of a sharp silver line drawn vertically with a curved line bent downwards across it, a deeply black oval cradled in the center. On the armor's left was a set of four daggers, and on its right was a large mace. The blades of each dagger seemed to be encased in ice, but this only added to their sharpness, while the core of the mace seemed to burn. The greatest weapon of them all, however, was held by the armor out in front of it, the tip resting gently against the ground. It was a greatsword, almost as tall as she was, made of a dark, strange sort of silver metal. Simple but beautiful complete with a curved crossguard and rounded but sharp pommel, the very air around the blade seemed to be tense. Every so often a pulse seemed to turn through the blade, deep red travelling through it in waves slowly. Vesta exhaled sharply, realizing she had been holding her breath ever since she had come onto the later part of the room. There was a sort of bizarre beauty in seeing the generations of weapons and armor tucked away that, truthfully, did little more than cause ugliness when they were put to use. How much value was there tucked away in this room alone? How much would collectors pay for one of those swords? Vesta shook her head at her own greedy thoughts, annoyed how her years of banditry still managed to linger on. In a strange way she felt as if she was disturbing a sacred place, as if she was walking through a graveyard full of unknown soldiers, and part of her felt like she should leave the room be. Even if the doors had opened themselves for her, she felt unwelcome—or perhaps it was the doors opening by themselves that made her feel ill at ease. Magic always did. Yet she was compelled to stay, transfixed by the antiques before her. She couldn't really explain why she found them so fascinating. Her own sword was notable only for the care she gave it in keeping it sharpened and oiled. Otherwise, it was nothing more than a standard issue piece of equipment. In fact, if one asked her the night before she would've given the poor sod a lecture on how aesthetics at best add nothing to a weapon and at worst take away from its effectiveness. Yet now it was as if she was bewitched by the weapon—or perhaps she was just a more curious person than she thought she was. Whatever it was, she pulled her glove off of her right hand and began to reach forward towards the pulsating waves. However, as her fingers were mere inches away from the blade her better, and more cautious, judgment took command of her body, and she froze. [b]"Alluring, isn't it?"[/b] In that moment the silence was cut through, even if the voice spoke quietly, softly. The Lady of Demons stepped into view of Vesta on her right, having approached from behind silently; even if Vesta's senses had been exponentially better than they already were, she wouldn't have had a chance of detecting the demon's approach. The much smaller and younger looking woman didn't give Vesta even a glance, only looking to the armor and weapons as well. She reached forwards, and unlike Vesta she actually touched the blade. The weapon seemed to respond to her touch, the pulsing getting stronger, faster, more insistent, and stayed that way until she pulled her hand away, slowly lowering. [b]"This set belonged to my father. This armor and these weapons have seen more than any made before or since, and yet they have missed so much as well."[/b] Lady Renata didn't sound sad as she spoke, or even slightly melancholy. However, she didn't sound proud at all; she spoke as if she was simply stating a fact, leaving it there for Vesta to pick up. Vesta's hand had quickly drawn away at the sound of the voice; otherwise, she gave no sign that the sudden appearance of the Lady had startled her. Replacing her glove, Vesta folded her arms over her chest as if to guard herself as she eyed the Lady of Demons with suspicion. She was still annoyed that her question had been ignored in favor of frivolities and serenades, but she did not feel like pressing her issue. Her eyes fell back on the weapon and armor of what, she supposed, belonged to the former Lord of the Demons. A momentary silence fell over the room, and then Vesta cleared her throat. "Huh...well, maybe their wielder should have had better training and more disciplined," said Vesta with little inflection, casting an aside glance towards Lady Renata. "Then they would've missed a whole lot less." A noticeably more uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "Sorry, did you want something?" said Vesta, looking back at the armor. [b]"I thought you had the eye of a warrior, Ms. Debove."[/b] Despite Vesta's pointed comment, one that many would have taken as insulting, the Lady of Demons remained calm as ever and even smiled towards the woman with that smirking sort of smile of hers. [b]"I thought you might notice how there isn't a dent or tear in the armor. When my father died, it wasn't in his armor."[/b] Lady Renata didn't explain any more, simply bringing up a hand ever slightly. [b]"But more to the point, I do have a reason why I'm here. I wanted to thank you for your service to the Serios over the years, and your faithfulness to them now, even if you aren't the same person as you once were."[/b] In that moment she seemed to be distracted slightly, briefly glancing down to Vesta's leg before looking back up to her eyes once more. [b]"Speaking of, that must hurt terribly, doesn't it?"[/b] Vesta's eyes narrowed. She wasn't certain if the Lady was referring to her knee or to how she had changed. She supposed it didn't matter; the answer was the same: "It doesn't matter, but yes, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't painful. Still, it's what I deserve." [b]"Mmm... There is a point where all dues are paid, however."[/b] For a brief moment she seemed pensive, before slowly her smile returned and she nodded. [b]"I could easily fix that for you."[/b] "You could fi—" Vesta cut herself short as if she just realized who it was that she was talking to. "And why would you do that?" [b]"To prepare you for what's to come, and to bring you back up to what you were once before. You are serviceable to the Serios now; I can once more bring you back to being beneficial for them."[/b] Vesta didn't take much time to mull it over, because she knew the longer she thought it over the more likely it was that she would talk herself out of it. She'd find some reason, some excuse, anything to screw herself over. The Serios trusted the Lady of Demons, and Vesta, for what it was worth, trusted the Serios. "Fine. Do it," she said. The edges of Lady Renata's lips went upwards ever slightly more, and she nodded, turning to begin walking and waving the woman along after her. [b]"Come with me, then. We'll take care of the procedure in one of my study areas, and I'll have Resalia observe and assist. Don't worry, you'll be asleep for it, so you won't feel a thing."[/b] "That's reassuring," said Vesta dryly, but nevertheless she turned and followed after the girl. She paused for only a moment to look at the older Barcean armor, and then hurriedly limped after Lady Renata. [hr] Within fifteen moments the process began. Before, Vesta had a brief glimpse how the mansion's halls worked when walking with the Lady of Demons when she had a distinct purpose in mind; everything was much more direct, the hallways shifting into place in front of them, twisting and turning suddenly and sometimes even sliding into place right in front of them. If Vesta had tried going anywhere else on her own, it probably would've taken her at least several minutes to reach the destination no matter how urgent her purpose was. With the Lady of Demons towing her along, that was a different story. One sudden shift of another hallway brought Resalia to them. The purple-haired demon had her hand outstretched, resting against the wall with her other hand against her own throat. However, even as Resalia struggled to regain her breath, the Lady of Demons didn't slow as she passed her, simply gesturing in the direction she was walking, a command that Resalia nodded and obeyed. Vesta never got to see the room that the procedure would take place. Even as the door opened in front of Lady Renata Vesta's world went dark, and she fell into a deep sleep. Before she could hit the ground the Lady of Demons waved her hand, and the woman floated up into the air as if laid upon a table, following both of the demons through the door. The room was very, very white, the walls, ceiling, and floor the same bright color that contrasted with the rest of the masnion in its entirety. There was one table set in the center, which Vesta's body floated over to rest upon, and a few other tables and cabinets spread about. Even as Lady Renata walked over to stand next to the sleeping form of Vesta, a few of those tables slid over to her, various tools appearing upon them from very small but very sharp blades to clamps and the like. Slowly, Resalia walked over to the other side of the table, having pulled on a sort of face mask over the lower half of her face; and for good reason, as she soon began coughing off to the side, having not yet recovered. Only when she was done did she reach down, picking up one of the blades to hold out to the Lady of Demons, who took it quite calmly. [b]"So this is to be simple reconstruction?"[/b] [b]"For the most part."[/b] With that Lady Renata gave a smile, before bringing the scalpel down to seemingly carelessly slice into Vesta's leg. [hr] [b]"Wake up."[/b] These were the first words that Vesta heard, and they were a command to break her out of her trance. No longer was she in the white room; now, she was all the way back in her own guest room, the Lady of Demons standing next to her bedside. Below, her leg was carefully wrapped with very white bandages, not too loosely or tightly. Vesta returned to the world of consciousness with a start, pushing herself to sit upright, and looked around the room with some alarm. It was strange to think that seeing the face of the Lady of Demons would be calming, but in this instance it was—the last thing she remembered was the other woman's face. Only that had been out in a hallway, not in her guestroom. She batted her eyes with slight confusion and slid her body back so that she could rest against the headboard. The fugue state quickly left her mind as the sheets slipped away and her eyes fell on the bandages. She reached forward to pull away the bandages, but hesitated as her fingers touched the cotton wraps. Questioningly, she looked over at Lady Renata and, seeing no visible cues for her to shy away, pulled them back to reveal her right knee. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about her knee, really, and that alone was astonishing. It wasn't gnarled, or bruised, or slightly misshapen, or somewhat off center. It was just a knee. A choking sound escaped Vesta's throat as she drew her hand up to her lips to catch it. She carefully bent her right leg. It was a little numb, yes, but she heard no cricks and felt no needles of pain shoot through her. She stretched her leg out, a little faster this time, and then pulled it back in as if to see if the last time was a fluke. It wasn't. Amazingly, it wasn't. Turning, she stared at Lady Renata with a still somewhat shocked look on her face—deep down inside, she hadn't really believed the other woman when she said she would fix it. "H-how?" she said, stammering. She had tried many things in her years to fix her knee. Medicine. Magic. None had worked. "How did you..." The Lady of Demons seemed to be pleased by Vesta's shocked and disbelieving reaction; after all, it came from a good place. Perhaps it was Vesta's way of showing gratitude, even if years of abnormally rough leaving had left her unable to properly expressing it. Shrugging, Lady Renata held her hand out to the side in a lazy gesture, before reaching down to lightly tap Vesta's repaired knee. [b]"Something like this is easy enough for someone like me, Ms. Debove. Be careful to begin with, seeing as it's been coddled for years; work your strength up in that leg again, and you should be closer to what you once were before."[/b] Vesta winced as the other woman tapped her knee. Of course, the touch did not hurt a single bit, and Vesta was rather annoyed with her own habitual reaction. It wouldn't be hard to follow Lady Renata's cautionary order; Vesta was so used to being lame that she doubted she'd start sprinting marathons because she'd be too distracted by her own ability to just walk without a pronounced limp. Still, the thought that she would be able to one day get her speed even close to how it had been years ago filled her with warmth. She realized she was smiling. Embarrassed, Vesta bowed her head to hide her elation, her short hair falling over her eyes. "I see. Thank you, Lady Renata," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I...thank you." The Lady of Demons nodded ever slightly, eyes almost closing as she did so but not quite. Hand pulling away from Vesta's knee, she held her hand out to the side, saying, [b]"You're welcome Ms. Debove, but that's not all. It would be cruel to return your mobility to you only to leave you completely defenseless against those that might do worse than cripple you."[/b] As she spoke, shadows leapt upwards and danced along her hand from her sleeve, before beginning to rapidly solidify. In just a few seconds a dagger formed in her hand, more black in hilt and sheath more than anything else, and undoubtedly the blade matched as well. This she held out to Vesta. [b]"This is not a blade meant to be used while skinning animals. It is not a blade to be used when you are fighting your lessers or your equals. Only resort to using this blade when you fight someone stronger than yourself, and it might be able to keep you alive."[/b] Vesta grabbed the dagger from the Lady. It had a nice weight to it, and she nodded along and listened as she inspected the ebony blade. The last bit Lady Renata said reminded Vesta of why any of them were there in the first place and drew her out of her elated state. [i]Someone stronger than myself, you say...[/i] "Save it for the Manu Propria and their creations, then?" she said, tucking the dagger into her belt. It would have been nice to have the blade the night of the assault on the castle. "Very well, although I fear I will be resorting to using it quite often in the days to come." [b]"Perhaps to begin with."[/b] The Lady of Demons said with a nod, pulling away slightly. She turned, beginning to walk away, looking over the nearby cabinet as if she had found something interesting. [b]"Go on and stand. May as well be absolutely certain."[/b] Standing. Yes, she would at one point have to do that; it might as well be now. Vesta twisted her body so that her legs draped over the edge of the mattress and she felt her feet brush against the ground. There was a moment's hesitation as an image flooded into her mind of her jumping to her feet only for a sickeningly audible crunch to ring out as her knee gave underneath her weight. Vesta, remembering Lady Renata's words to take it easy at first, reached out with her hand and steadied herself against the wooden bed frame as she got up. Slowly, she let go of the post as if it was the only thing keeping her on two feet. She could feel her weight shifting below her, but there was no loud pop. Vesta took a step; then she took another. Seconds later and she had paced a complete circle around the room, her hand covering her agape mouth the entire time. She strolled back over to Lady Renata and then, much to her own surprise, threw her arms around the Lady of Demons and gave her a thankful, if rather awkward and stiff, hug. "Um, sorry," she said, releasing the other woman from her embrace and wiping at her eyes. "I'm just a bit, aha, overwhelmed." The Lady of Demons had been quite cold to the touch; it was as if Vesta had hugged a (much shorter) pillar of ice. At the initial touch Lady Renata bristled, but after a moment she just gave a soft, accepting sigh before giving Vesta the slightest of pats. After the woman pulled away, Lady Renata took a moment to inspect over herself, making sure her dress was still on straight and hadn't been tarnished by wrinkles thanks to the contact, and after briefly brushing her hands against her stomach to clear some suspected blemish from her, she looked back up to Vesta and gave her the usual smile. [b]"I am not exactly surprised you are. It is certainly a sudden return to proper form."[/b] "Yeah. Yeah," she said, sitting back down on the mattress. The soft smile on her face faltered slightly, her restless night catching up with her body. "I think all this excitement wore me down a bit. Thank you again, but may I be alone for a while?" Lady Renata nodded in response, before she turned to begin walking towards the door without a second glance back. [b]"Of course, Ms. Debove. Do rest well."[/b] [hr] [b][center]The Return[/center][/b] Wooden wheels rhythmically clicked against the cobblestone road as the carriage slowly wound its way up the Sapphire Road to the Kirun. Wind, cool but not freezing, rushed between the crags that lined the road, creating a loud, piercing howl. Normally the road up to the city was more lively, packed with merchants and travellers, but the start of Gartian’s aggressions had saw to a momentary lapse in foot traffic. Still, the lone passenger of the carriage could hear his driver shouting greetings to other cabbies as he leaned against the window, staring up at the granite city and the snow-covered mountaintops that loomed over it like an accent. It was a pleasant sight, and the setting sun seemed to make everything shimmer like silver. Breathtaking, even, especially when one considered the hours of dry, dull desert they had just driven through. The carriage passed easily enough through the checkpoints—the men had been waiting for it to arrival for some time, it seemed—and it wasn’t long before they passed underneath the main gate. Fountains dedicated to Danmun and marble statues of long dead men lined the main promenade before terminating into a sea of canopies and tents. Even with the unusually slow traffic and the later hour the sound emerging from the bazaar was a still lively as ever. Yet as the carriage drew by a hush fell over the throngs of haggling shoppers, and it was only when the carriage veered north towards the temple of Danmun that the haggling resumed. It wasn’t much longer after the carriage passed by the twin temples to Danmun that it stopped outside of a large gate. It would not be allowed to go any further. The passenger stepped out of the carriage and walked towards the golden gate. Although no hail was given, the men guarding it instantly recognized him and opened the doors to reveal the lavish palace behind it. The color of obsidian and tinted with trim of gold lined with amethysts, it appeared as if the palace sort of emerged out of the mountain behind it. The passenger sighed. He thought he’d be happier to see it, considering how long it had been, but now he could only feel dread growing in his belly. Still, there seemed to be nowhere else for him now, and, more importantly, there were two very important people waiting here for him. Taking a second to straighten out his clothes that had been wrinkled by sitting for so long, the man took one more moment to contemplate leaving before the golden gates closed behind him with a slam, sealing him in. For better or worse, Ennis Cade was home.