Lemons
ThatCharacter
Kero
Izurich
AlteredTundra
Mcmolly
Kronshi
Asura
Obscene Symphony
Pyrrhic
Leaving Rosemary behind had been more difficult than Sonia had anticipated, but the girl eventually let her go free after Sonia promised she would be back as soon as possible. The Templar made sure to move with purpose when she left, continuing to coordinate the castle’s security. Commander Schneider’s vacation couldn’t have come at a worse time, but she would rather cut her good arm off than leave things to devolve into chaos. She barked orders where they were needed and reunited with the archbishop, and to her relief, he agreed to stay at Veradis Castle overnight. Why the archbishop tried to insist on returning to Cathedra Incepta now of all times, who knew, but it was one less thing to worry about.
But her work was not done. Instead of returning to her princess’ side, Sonia’s path led her to the Commander’s office. As the man was away, it was offered to Dame Irina, who waited for her. The woman scratched under her eyepatch as she entered without so much as a knock or verbal warning. She closed the door behind her and casually strolled in, throwing herself onto a chair and letting out a loud yawn as she put her feet up on the arm of the second chair next to her.
Once she was comfortable, she finally gave Irina her attention. “You look like shit,” She told her after giving her a glance.
Irina only glanced up as Sonia barged in, scrolling through something on her tablet as the Templar of Light made herself comfortable. The office was illuminated now only by the lamp on the desk and a low fire smoldering in the hearth, casting long shadows over Dame Irina’s face. She was as prim as ever, rod-straight in her chair, but she had faltered a little, leaning her cheek on her hand as she tapped away at whatever she was working on.
Dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes, but her gaze was as sharp as ever when she looked up once more at Sonia, fixing the other woman with a long stare before quirking an eyebrow. “Said the pot to the kettle,” she droned.
Sonia scowled at the remark, but her expression dropped to something resembling concern. Her eye studied Irina’s face for a moment before she spoke again. “I thought you’d be as thrilled as I was that we got to stretch our sword arms outside the arena,” She admitted.
Irina rolled her eyes, fixing Sonia with a look. “I was,” she reasoned, “It’s doing it inside Duke Giles’ ballroom that’s the problem.”
She leaned back in her chair, picking the tablet up off the desk and flipping through something on it. “Battle’s a lot more fun without all the shit that comes after,” she continued, sounding exasperated. “A bunch of heathens launch an all-out offensive on all the Scions at once and now I’ve got investigations to conduct, a search to organize, prisoners to deal with--”
“Prisoners?!” Sonia sat up so quickly that the second chair got kicked a good distance, her eye sparkling at the idea. “I can help with that!”
Irina scoffed, a ghost of a smirk sneaking onto her face. “You have your hands full,” she countered, a laugh almost escaping her. “You’re on babysitting duty.”
Sonia outright rolled her eye. “Mine actually listens to me when I tell her to stay put, unlike your raggle of kids running around and tripping over themselves,” She pointed out. “Apparently, you made waves. The church squire said your lashing was so bad you made one of them cry.”
“I bet it was Chaudoir,” Irina shot back, shaking her head. “That little thing shudders every time I walk by.”
She threw up her arms defeatedly, huffing. “Honestly, they’re like a bunch of squires themselves,” she complained, “Half of them treat their Scions like their boss, half treat them like children, and the other half leave them for dead. Am I losing my touch?”
“Yeah, you got three halves. I thought you were better at math than me.”
“Shut up,” Irina glared.
“Speaking of squires,” she added, leaning over to fetch something from a messenger bag at her feet. She produced a shimmering white stone - Sonia’s armour crystal - and tossed it irreverently across the desk. “Thanks, by the way. You’re all clear.”
Sonia ignored her crystal for a moment, raising her eyebrows at Irina. “This was a good, real test of danger that I’m sure a majority of them haven’t ever experienced,” She noted first. “It’s a shame it came at the expense of Ulysse, but that’s why you’re here; now that they’ve experienced the worst-case scenario, they’ll come to understand your training and its importance.”
Before she would get her crystal back, Sonia rummaged around in her pockets and pulled out what looked like a bulky charger of some sort. It was almost the size of her hand and colored black and gray with a notable plug sticking out of it.
“As for my crystal, I’ll trade you,” She placed the device carefully on the desk with her right hand while her left snatched up her crystal. “This was one of the devices plugged into the wall. It isn’t bugged and didn’t seem to do much but light up when I plugged it in earlier, but this was the source of that…uh…the fuck is it even called when a Scion loses their power?”
She paused for all of two seconds before dismissing it and continuing, “This thing lit up with about a dozen of them–and those were the ones I could see–and shortly after was when Rosemary told me she was in pain and she couldn’t use her magic.”
“You call it a big fucking problem,” Irina answered gravely, turning her attention to the device Sonia produced. She examined it for a long moment, turning it over in her hands, before tucking it away in her bag.
“I’ll get the nerds on it,” she concluded. She returned to the tablet again, tapping a few times and turning it so Sonia could see. The screen showed a blueprint of the ballroom with markings written all over it: notations for locations and direction of travel, as well as a few notes.
“They came in by helicopter,” Irina murmured, voice low and disbelieving. “They mobilized dozens with their own weapons, armour, gear, they set up those devices in the room, and all right under our noses.” She sounded as shocked as she was ashamed.
She fixed Sonia with a deadly serious look. “This had to have been a huge operation. One with coordination, funding, one that took time to plan and a lot of moving parts to execute.” She shook her head, rubbing a hand down her face. “We’re not dealing with street preachers and rowboat pirates anymore.”
Sonia rested her elbows on her knees as she looked down at Irina’s tablet, eyebrows furrowed as she looked and listened. Her tongue rolled over her teeth as Irina concluded what she had to say, and she gave Irina her full attention.
“Hard to believe the group of crazies suddenly had the resources and manpower to accomplish all that,” She frowned. “What bothers me is how seamlessly they managed to pull it off. No alerts, nothing suspicious leading up to the moment, no signs of an attack…They came in like leaves on the wind.”
It bothered her a lot more than she wanted to admit. “The amount of coordination to pull something off like that is terrifying–they got through everyone. Estora, Veradis, Rosaria, Doumerc–I had to lock people up because nearly every noble Prince Rowan sheltered wanted to know how something like this could happen.”
Irina nodded. “Join the club,” she commented wearily, putting the tablet to sleep. She sat silently for a moment, as if debating something, before she spoke again.
“There’s more,” she said in a low voice, shifting in her seat. Her expression grew serious. “Ulysse’s crystal was missing from his body. All we found was a gaping hole.”
Sonia’s jaw outright dropped. “A hole,” She repeated in disbelief. “I knew Ulysse was a cocky bastard, but to think someone could do that to him…”
As she trailed off, she seemed to remember something. “You don’t think that same group is behind those robberies, do you?” She asked, tapping her chin absentmindedly. “The ones that mugged that group of church knights and took their armor? Like…what, two months ago or something?”
“A Church Knight’s armour is a whole different beast from a Templar’s. Removing Ulysse’s crystal was no easy task, and that’s without asking how they even knew how to do it.” Irina commented, tapping her fingers on her knee as she thought about it. “If it’s the same group, then they must already have been present inside the Federation. Which I suppose makes sense; no helicopter is making a round trip from Kaudus to Veradis without stopping to refuel.”
Irina tilted her head back and forth, deep in thought. “And I don’t imagine your everyday brigand could have managed to separate a Knight from his armour, either.”
Sonia let out a huff of disbelief, trying to wrap her head around the situation. “The amount of planning is what gets me nervous. Every detail on their end was perfect,” She couldn’t help but state the obvious, but having it all laid out turned an already bad situation worse. “They had something that canceled the Scions’ magic, grabbed Ulysse’s crystal and his Scion…even with the amount of people they lost, they were highly successful.”
She scratched her chin, frowning. “This is bad.”
Irina’s frown matched Sonia’s, her eyes narrowed at the lamp on the desk as she mulled over all the grave details of the evening. “I fear it might be worse than it seems,” she murmured, turning her gaze to her friend. “I had Sirs Edmund and Tyler in here earlier. Sir Edmund had some ideas about the identity of the attackers, but Sir Tyler concerned me much more with his testimony.”
Her fingers stopped tapping. “He seems to think they have the power to control time.”
The laugh that came out of Sonia was a strained one, something that came out unwillingly as the woman hung her head in disbelief. She knew Irina wasn’t the type to lie, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not just that, it went against the entire Scion system that Incepta had established. After a few seconds of taking the information in, she raised her head.
“The Goddess’ chosen is supposed to be the only one capable of such a thing. In our case, the only person who should be able to do such a thing is Prince Lucas,” Her words were low and quiet. She wrung her hands as she sat up, completely at a loss.
Irina took a deep breath. “Sir Tyler seems to think these are the same people who took Scion Theodore. He thinks they somehow stole his power - and that they want to do the same to Scion Nadine.”
She shook her head, as if trying to dispel the very thought. “Of course it sounds ridiculous. I’d much sooner believe Scion Lucas had a poor handle on his power than that anyone could somehow extract the Goddess’ blessing from a Scion, let alone preserve such a thing after his mantle passed on.”
A ghost of worry swept over Irina’s face, but vanished as soon as it came, like a shadow passing over the moon. “But I don’t have any better explanations,” she added, tapping something new into her tablet. “Disrupting Scion Lucas is one thing - he was inexperienced and frankly, probably drunk - but getting a force of that magnitude inside our perimeter without raising any alarm, and planting those devices after our sweep… That is quite another.”
As much as Sonia wanted to disagree, it made too much sense. It actually explained a lot, the more she thought about it. Theoretically, if someone who could manipulate time went in and maneuvered around everyone and everything, how would they be able to catch them? There was only one solace she had.
“I don’t think the prince could have accomplished much considering he’s had Incepta’s gift for, what, a week?” Sonia mused out loud. “They must have known that and taken advantage. Even without the time stuff, they’re calculative. Every hole in their plan was covered and every weakness of ours was exploited.”
She paused for a second. “But it must be limited, unlike Scion Theodore’s power. A saving grace, otherwise I think if they wanted to steal the other Scions without contest, they would have,” She said slowly. “Then, I wonder what they wanted with Ulysse’s crystal. If you can replicate the Goddess’ power, why bother with a Templar’s armor?”
“I don’t know,” Irina sighed, sounding almost breathless. The headache she’d been working on ever since the adrenaline wore off was getting to her, as was the increasingly convoluted situation. “What I do know is that we need answers. Carefully, but quickly. I know at least one person to call.”
Sitting back in her chair, she heaved a long breath, looking suddenly very fatigued. “No amount of puzzling tonight will get us anywhere without more information. Go to bed. You’ll need your strength going forward.”
Despite the heaviness of the conversation, Sonia outright pouted. “If you’re going to stay up, I’ll accompany you. I don’t think I can get any semblance of sleep until I know for sure my princess is safe here,” She huffed, crossing her arms.
“She isn’t safe here,” Irina stated bluntly, fixing Sonia with a hard stare. “She isn’t safe anywhere. I think we were fools to think she ever was - that any of them ever were.”
Irina closed her eyes for a moment, as if a wave of pain ran through her. After a second, it seemed to pass, and she opened them again. “That’s why she needs you with her, and not here losing sleep with me.”
Sonia stared at Irina. “That doesn’t mean I should just leave you here to deal with this alone,” She reminded her.
Irina’s facade cracked a little, the faintest hint of fondness seeping into her expression as she smirked. “Go to bed, you sorry old wolf,” she chuckled wearily, “Out with your sentimental nonsense, before you break a hip.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t a terrible idea; there was a lot that happened and she’d think better with some sleep. The other woman threw her hands up in defeat, knowing that Irina couldn’t be reasoned with. “Fine, fine, fine, I can see when I’m not wanted, you frigid dog,” Sonia retorted as she stood. “As acting Commander of the Veradis Royal Guard, I hereby dub you ‘the head bitch in charge’ so I can nap.”
Irina laughed under her breath as she stood in turn, seeing her friend out of the office with somewhat less than the expected formality. Just as Sonia was about to close the door, however, some of the darkness she’d briefly forgotten came over her again, and she stopped her friend with one last message.
“Keep your princess close,” she charged her solemnly. “These are strange times.”
Sonia waved her words off lazily, albeit her own expression was serious. Irina wasn’t wrong, the talk of stolen powers and an enemy deliberately targeting Scions was something straight out of her nightmares. And as tempted as she was to go ahead with interrogating some of the prisoners, she knew her heart wouldn’t be completely in it. Instead, she eventually made her way back through the halls to the Princess’ room.
Said room was something Sonia always thought was plucked straight out of a fairy tale. Elegant and colored gold and pink, It was clear that a majority of the decorating budget went into ensuring the little princess was surrounded only by the finest furniture. Her bed was colossal and the one thing Sonia always thought was a little overboard, but instead of finding her princess drowning in plush pillows, she was instead playing with some of the flowers left on her bedroom table. The white lily’s petals swayed as Rosemary waved it around, strong enough not to let go of its petals no matter what she did. Sonia had no real preference for flowers, but the lilies of the castle always calmed her in some strange way.
At her entrance, Rosemary perked up significantly, immediately running up to her. “You’re back!” She exclaimed happily.
“And you’re not asleep,” Sonia replied as she knelt down, scooping the princess up into her arms. “You promised you would try.”
“I did try!” Rosemary insisted as Sonia placed her down on her bed. Sonia held her hand out for the girl to hand her the flower, but Rosemary surprised her by clutching the lily to her chest. “I wanna stay with it. Grandpa Aaron said this one was his favorite.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want it to get smushed while you sleep, right?” Sonia asked.
The question had Rosemary thinking, and eventually, she reluctantly handed it over. Instead of placing it back in the bouquet, Sonia respectfully placed it on the closest bedside table. “Can you sleep here?” She asked timidly.
“That’s a good idea. We haven’t had a sleepover in a while, right?” Sonia asked. “I’m just going to take a shower, then we can sleep. Okay?”
Rosemary nodded, all too happy to hear Sonia agree. “Yeah!” She shuffled over, moving around her pillows to make room for Sonia. “On waves of gold, She waits for me…The sands of time, shift to the sea…” She sang to herself.
Sonia was taking off her templar jacket when she heard Rosemary’s song. “Where’d you hear that?” She asked, not recognizing it.
“The lady from my dream sang it to me.”
“Lady?”
“The one I told you that was crying. But she was happy this time and she taught me the song!”
Sonia didn’t know what to make of that. It could have been the night’s events muddling her judgment, but something about that felt off. “Who was the lady?”
“I don’t know.”
“She didn’t give you a name?”
“No. I told her my name and did my curtsy and she said I was a-door-ah-bule. And she had beautiful hair that was like sunlight and her dress was so pretty! And she was so nice to me–we played on the beach and sang songs and then she let me brush her hair.”
Well, that sounded harmless enough. And if it was a dream, maybe Rosemary was dreaming of someone that looked like her mother. The deceased Princess Penelope did have blonde hair, and considering she passed shortly after giving birth, it would make sense that Rosemary wouldn’t recognize her.
Or it could be some spirit beckoning to her in her dreams. “She didn’t ask you for anything, right?” Sonia asked.
“Nope!”
Alright, good. One less thing to worry about. Sonia let Rosemary sing to herself as she showered and changed, and by the time she was dressed, the idea of sleep was too tempting to pass up. She said she’d take a nap, but she was likely to try to get a solid six hours if she could get away with it.
So she threw herself onto the bed, watching as Rosemary bounced in the air with a squeal. Once the princess was tucked in, Sonia watched as Rosemary finally drifted to sleep. To think anyone would want to harm a little girl like her was beyond infuriating, but she had to bat away the question of why it had to be Rosemary that was targeted. Her life was already challenging, she didn’t need any crazy heretics wanting her power. But any animosity melted away as Rosemary cuddled up to her, so Sonia let herself rest. Tomorrow, she’d handle everything that came her way.
But her work was not done. Instead of returning to her princess’ side, Sonia’s path led her to the Commander’s office. As the man was away, it was offered to Dame Irina, who waited for her. The woman scratched under her eyepatch as she entered without so much as a knock or verbal warning. She closed the door behind her and casually strolled in, throwing herself onto a chair and letting out a loud yawn as she put her feet up on the arm of the second chair next to her.
Once she was comfortable, she finally gave Irina her attention. “You look like shit,” She told her after giving her a glance.
Irina only glanced up as Sonia barged in, scrolling through something on her tablet as the Templar of Light made herself comfortable. The office was illuminated now only by the lamp on the desk and a low fire smoldering in the hearth, casting long shadows over Dame Irina’s face. She was as prim as ever, rod-straight in her chair, but she had faltered a little, leaning her cheek on her hand as she tapped away at whatever she was working on.
Dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes, but her gaze was as sharp as ever when she looked up once more at Sonia, fixing the other woman with a long stare before quirking an eyebrow. “Said the pot to the kettle,” she droned.
Sonia scowled at the remark, but her expression dropped to something resembling concern. Her eye studied Irina’s face for a moment before she spoke again. “I thought you’d be as thrilled as I was that we got to stretch our sword arms outside the arena,” She admitted.
Irina rolled her eyes, fixing Sonia with a look. “I was,” she reasoned, “It’s doing it inside Duke Giles’ ballroom that’s the problem.”
She leaned back in her chair, picking the tablet up off the desk and flipping through something on it. “Battle’s a lot more fun without all the shit that comes after,” she continued, sounding exasperated. “A bunch of heathens launch an all-out offensive on all the Scions at once and now I’ve got investigations to conduct, a search to organize, prisoners to deal with--”
“Prisoners?!” Sonia sat up so quickly that the second chair got kicked a good distance, her eye sparkling at the idea. “I can help with that!”
Irina scoffed, a ghost of a smirk sneaking onto her face. “You have your hands full,” she countered, a laugh almost escaping her. “You’re on babysitting duty.”
Sonia outright rolled her eye. “Mine actually listens to me when I tell her to stay put, unlike your raggle of kids running around and tripping over themselves,” She pointed out. “Apparently, you made waves. The church squire said your lashing was so bad you made one of them cry.”
“I bet it was Chaudoir,” Irina shot back, shaking her head. “That little thing shudders every time I walk by.”
She threw up her arms defeatedly, huffing. “Honestly, they’re like a bunch of squires themselves,” she complained, “Half of them treat their Scions like their boss, half treat them like children, and the other half leave them for dead. Am I losing my touch?”
“Yeah, you got three halves. I thought you were better at math than me.”
“Shut up,” Irina glared.
“Speaking of squires,” she added, leaning over to fetch something from a messenger bag at her feet. She produced a shimmering white stone - Sonia’s armour crystal - and tossed it irreverently across the desk. “Thanks, by the way. You’re all clear.”
Sonia ignored her crystal for a moment, raising her eyebrows at Irina. “This was a good, real test of danger that I’m sure a majority of them haven’t ever experienced,” She noted first. “It’s a shame it came at the expense of Ulysse, but that’s why you’re here; now that they’ve experienced the worst-case scenario, they’ll come to understand your training and its importance.”
Before she would get her crystal back, Sonia rummaged around in her pockets and pulled out what looked like a bulky charger of some sort. It was almost the size of her hand and colored black and gray with a notable plug sticking out of it.
“As for my crystal, I’ll trade you,” She placed the device carefully on the desk with her right hand while her left snatched up her crystal. “This was one of the devices plugged into the wall. It isn’t bugged and didn’t seem to do much but light up when I plugged it in earlier, but this was the source of that…uh…the fuck is it even called when a Scion loses their power?”
She paused for all of two seconds before dismissing it and continuing, “This thing lit up with about a dozen of them–and those were the ones I could see–and shortly after was when Rosemary told me she was in pain and she couldn’t use her magic.”
“You call it a big fucking problem,” Irina answered gravely, turning her attention to the device Sonia produced. She examined it for a long moment, turning it over in her hands, before tucking it away in her bag.
“I’ll get the nerds on it,” she concluded. She returned to the tablet again, tapping a few times and turning it so Sonia could see. The screen showed a blueprint of the ballroom with markings written all over it: notations for locations and direction of travel, as well as a few notes.
“They came in by helicopter,” Irina murmured, voice low and disbelieving. “They mobilized dozens with their own weapons, armour, gear, they set up those devices in the room, and all right under our noses.” She sounded as shocked as she was ashamed.
She fixed Sonia with a deadly serious look. “This had to have been a huge operation. One with coordination, funding, one that took time to plan and a lot of moving parts to execute.” She shook her head, rubbing a hand down her face. “We’re not dealing with street preachers and rowboat pirates anymore.”
Sonia rested her elbows on her knees as she looked down at Irina’s tablet, eyebrows furrowed as she looked and listened. Her tongue rolled over her teeth as Irina concluded what she had to say, and she gave Irina her full attention.
“Hard to believe the group of crazies suddenly had the resources and manpower to accomplish all that,” She frowned. “What bothers me is how seamlessly they managed to pull it off. No alerts, nothing suspicious leading up to the moment, no signs of an attack…They came in like leaves on the wind.”
It bothered her a lot more than she wanted to admit. “The amount of coordination to pull something off like that is terrifying–they got through everyone. Estora, Veradis, Rosaria, Doumerc–I had to lock people up because nearly every noble Prince Rowan sheltered wanted to know how something like this could happen.”
Irina nodded. “Join the club,” she commented wearily, putting the tablet to sleep. She sat silently for a moment, as if debating something, before she spoke again.
“There’s more,” she said in a low voice, shifting in her seat. Her expression grew serious. “Ulysse’s crystal was missing from his body. All we found was a gaping hole.”
Sonia’s jaw outright dropped. “A hole,” She repeated in disbelief. “I knew Ulysse was a cocky bastard, but to think someone could do that to him…”
As she trailed off, she seemed to remember something. “You don’t think that same group is behind those robberies, do you?” She asked, tapping her chin absentmindedly. “The ones that mugged that group of church knights and took their armor? Like…what, two months ago or something?”
“A Church Knight’s armour is a whole different beast from a Templar’s. Removing Ulysse’s crystal was no easy task, and that’s without asking how they even knew how to do it.” Irina commented, tapping her fingers on her knee as she thought about it. “If it’s the same group, then they must already have been present inside the Federation. Which I suppose makes sense; no helicopter is making a round trip from Kaudus to Veradis without stopping to refuel.”
Irina tilted her head back and forth, deep in thought. “And I don’t imagine your everyday brigand could have managed to separate a Knight from his armour, either.”
Sonia let out a huff of disbelief, trying to wrap her head around the situation. “The amount of planning is what gets me nervous. Every detail on their end was perfect,” She couldn’t help but state the obvious, but having it all laid out turned an already bad situation worse. “They had something that canceled the Scions’ magic, grabbed Ulysse’s crystal and his Scion…even with the amount of people they lost, they were highly successful.”
She scratched her chin, frowning. “This is bad.”
Irina’s frown matched Sonia’s, her eyes narrowed at the lamp on the desk as she mulled over all the grave details of the evening. “I fear it might be worse than it seems,” she murmured, turning her gaze to her friend. “I had Sirs Edmund and Tyler in here earlier. Sir Edmund had some ideas about the identity of the attackers, but Sir Tyler concerned me much more with his testimony.”
Her fingers stopped tapping. “He seems to think they have the power to control time.”
The laugh that came out of Sonia was a strained one, something that came out unwillingly as the woman hung her head in disbelief. She knew Irina wasn’t the type to lie, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not just that, it went against the entire Scion system that Incepta had established. After a few seconds of taking the information in, she raised her head.
“The Goddess’ chosen is supposed to be the only one capable of such a thing. In our case, the only person who should be able to do such a thing is Prince Lucas,” Her words were low and quiet. She wrung her hands as she sat up, completely at a loss.
Irina took a deep breath. “Sir Tyler seems to think these are the same people who took Scion Theodore. He thinks they somehow stole his power - and that they want to do the same to Scion Nadine.”
She shook her head, as if trying to dispel the very thought. “Of course it sounds ridiculous. I’d much sooner believe Scion Lucas had a poor handle on his power than that anyone could somehow extract the Goddess’ blessing from a Scion, let alone preserve such a thing after his mantle passed on.”
A ghost of worry swept over Irina’s face, but vanished as soon as it came, like a shadow passing over the moon. “But I don’t have any better explanations,” she added, tapping something new into her tablet. “Disrupting Scion Lucas is one thing - he was inexperienced and frankly, probably drunk - but getting a force of that magnitude inside our perimeter without raising any alarm, and planting those devices after our sweep… That is quite another.”
As much as Sonia wanted to disagree, it made too much sense. It actually explained a lot, the more she thought about it. Theoretically, if someone who could manipulate time went in and maneuvered around everyone and everything, how would they be able to catch them? There was only one solace she had.
“I don’t think the prince could have accomplished much considering he’s had Incepta’s gift for, what, a week?” Sonia mused out loud. “They must have known that and taken advantage. Even without the time stuff, they’re calculative. Every hole in their plan was covered and every weakness of ours was exploited.”
She paused for a second. “But it must be limited, unlike Scion Theodore’s power. A saving grace, otherwise I think if they wanted to steal the other Scions without contest, they would have,” She said slowly. “Then, I wonder what they wanted with Ulysse’s crystal. If you can replicate the Goddess’ power, why bother with a Templar’s armor?”
“I don’t know,” Irina sighed, sounding almost breathless. The headache she’d been working on ever since the adrenaline wore off was getting to her, as was the increasingly convoluted situation. “What I do know is that we need answers. Carefully, but quickly. I know at least one person to call.”
Sitting back in her chair, she heaved a long breath, looking suddenly very fatigued. “No amount of puzzling tonight will get us anywhere without more information. Go to bed. You’ll need your strength going forward.”
Despite the heaviness of the conversation, Sonia outright pouted. “If you’re going to stay up, I’ll accompany you. I don’t think I can get any semblance of sleep until I know for sure my princess is safe here,” She huffed, crossing her arms.
“She isn’t safe here,” Irina stated bluntly, fixing Sonia with a hard stare. “She isn’t safe anywhere. I think we were fools to think she ever was - that any of them ever were.”
Irina closed her eyes for a moment, as if a wave of pain ran through her. After a second, it seemed to pass, and she opened them again. “That’s why she needs you with her, and not here losing sleep with me.”
Sonia stared at Irina. “That doesn’t mean I should just leave you here to deal with this alone,” She reminded her.
Irina’s facade cracked a little, the faintest hint of fondness seeping into her expression as she smirked. “Go to bed, you sorry old wolf,” she chuckled wearily, “Out with your sentimental nonsense, before you break a hip.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t a terrible idea; there was a lot that happened and she’d think better with some sleep. The other woman threw her hands up in defeat, knowing that Irina couldn’t be reasoned with. “Fine, fine, fine, I can see when I’m not wanted, you frigid dog,” Sonia retorted as she stood. “As acting Commander of the Veradis Royal Guard, I hereby dub you ‘the head bitch in charge’ so I can nap.”
Irina laughed under her breath as she stood in turn, seeing her friend out of the office with somewhat less than the expected formality. Just as Sonia was about to close the door, however, some of the darkness she’d briefly forgotten came over her again, and she stopped her friend with one last message.
“Keep your princess close,” she charged her solemnly. “These are strange times.”
Sonia waved her words off lazily, albeit her own expression was serious. Irina wasn’t wrong, the talk of stolen powers and an enemy deliberately targeting Scions was something straight out of her nightmares. And as tempted as she was to go ahead with interrogating some of the prisoners, she knew her heart wouldn’t be completely in it. Instead, she eventually made her way back through the halls to the Princess’ room.
Said room was something Sonia always thought was plucked straight out of a fairy tale. Elegant and colored gold and pink, It was clear that a majority of the decorating budget went into ensuring the little princess was surrounded only by the finest furniture. Her bed was colossal and the one thing Sonia always thought was a little overboard, but instead of finding her princess drowning in plush pillows, she was instead playing with some of the flowers left on her bedroom table. The white lily’s petals swayed as Rosemary waved it around, strong enough not to let go of its petals no matter what she did. Sonia had no real preference for flowers, but the lilies of the castle always calmed her in some strange way.
At her entrance, Rosemary perked up significantly, immediately running up to her. “You’re back!” She exclaimed happily.
“And you’re not asleep,” Sonia replied as she knelt down, scooping the princess up into her arms. “You promised you would try.”
“I did try!” Rosemary insisted as Sonia placed her down on her bed. Sonia held her hand out for the girl to hand her the flower, but Rosemary surprised her by clutching the lily to her chest. “I wanna stay with it. Grandpa Aaron said this one was his favorite.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want it to get smushed while you sleep, right?” Sonia asked.
The question had Rosemary thinking, and eventually, she reluctantly handed it over. Instead of placing it back in the bouquet, Sonia respectfully placed it on the closest bedside table. “Can you sleep here?” She asked timidly.
“That’s a good idea. We haven’t had a sleepover in a while, right?” Sonia asked. “I’m just going to take a shower, then we can sleep. Okay?”
Rosemary nodded, all too happy to hear Sonia agree. “Yeah!” She shuffled over, moving around her pillows to make room for Sonia. “On waves of gold, She waits for me…The sands of time, shift to the sea…” She sang to herself.
Sonia was taking off her templar jacket when she heard Rosemary’s song. “Where’d you hear that?” She asked, not recognizing it.
“The lady from my dream sang it to me.”
“Lady?”
“The one I told you that was crying. But she was happy this time and she taught me the song!”
Sonia didn’t know what to make of that. It could have been the night’s events muddling her judgment, but something about that felt off. “Who was the lady?”
“I don’t know.”
“She didn’t give you a name?”
“No. I told her my name and did my curtsy and she said I was a-door-ah-bule. And she had beautiful hair that was like sunlight and her dress was so pretty! And she was so nice to me–we played on the beach and sang songs and then she let me brush her hair.”
Well, that sounded harmless enough. And if it was a dream, maybe Rosemary was dreaming of someone that looked like her mother. The deceased Princess Penelope did have blonde hair, and considering she passed shortly after giving birth, it would make sense that Rosemary wouldn’t recognize her.
Or it could be some spirit beckoning to her in her dreams. “She didn’t ask you for anything, right?” Sonia asked.
“Nope!”
Alright, good. One less thing to worry about. Sonia let Rosemary sing to herself as she showered and changed, and by the time she was dressed, the idea of sleep was too tempting to pass up. She said she’d take a nap, but she was likely to try to get a solid six hours if she could get away with it.
So she threw herself onto the bed, watching as Rosemary bounced in the air with a squeal. Once the princess was tucked in, Sonia watched as Rosemary finally drifted to sleep. To think anyone would want to harm a little girl like her was beyond infuriating, but she had to bat away the question of why it had to be Rosemary that was targeted. Her life was already challenging, she didn’t need any crazy heretics wanting her power. But any animosity melted away as Rosemary cuddled up to her, so Sonia let herself rest. Tomorrow, she’d handle everything that came her way.
A young woman named Delilah stifled a yawn as she slipped off her apron, finally happy that she was done with the business rush of the morning. Running a bakery was no easy task, but she was always an early bird that liked her work to be done early. Her husband and her sister worked well with her, the clientele preferred to be in and out as quickly as possible, and for the most part, she had little troubles. It helped that Juniperus was the very heart of Veradis and that there was always help around the corner if she looked for it.
Before she could leave for lunch and continue on that book she was reading, however, her sister waved her over. “Delilah…she’s there again,” She warned her.
Delilah let out a sigh. Of course, there was really only one consistent problem she had to deal with; and after Officer Jannick was promoted and Officer Ulrich changed his route, the rest took their sweet time responding to her calls about that woman who liked to terrorize her clientele on a daily basis.
“What is she doing now? Asking people why they color their hair? Or did she decide to resume her fight on spectacles again?” Delilah asked wearily.
“She’s been listening intently to the radio and blocking some people from leaving,” Her sister frowned. “Maybe on your way out you can get her to leave? Or at least move closer so she’s not blocking the door.”
As harmless as it sounded, anytime that woman focused on any one thing, it ended in one of her infamous rants. Why she decided to continue to visit Delilah’s bakery out of all the other businesses, she would never know. That said, it was prudent to get ahead of the explosion. Most days she could be coaxed with a loaf of bread or a sweet or two–if she was being honest, she understood that the woman likely struggled and did what she did without any true malice–so it was better to lose out on a little something than have her drive away paying customers.
And so Delilah stepped out of the kitchen with a small basket hanging from her arm, spotting the woman among the bustle standing next to the small radio on the coffee table near the entrance. Most people squeezed their way past her as she remained rooted in the same place. She didn’t care that her ponytail was batted away nor paid any attention to the judgmental looks as people noticed the old fashioned hand-me-downs she wore that Delilah had gifted her some time ago. Her eyes were hyper focused on the radio, deaf to everything but the broadcast.
As Delilah approached, she heard the host finish speaking about Scion Nadine, who had passed. Once they finished speaking, it was as if the spell cast over the woman was finished. She turned to Delilah, looking concerned.
“That must be why the symphony doesn’t sound so clear anymore,” She sighed. “I thought my ears had dulled, but there is something more malicious at work here.”
“You’re listening to music?” Delilah asked, bewildered.
“Not music. The symphony of the world,” She sighed, exasperated. “I think it is time for drastic measures. I need to go to Estora, I think.”
Delilah was surprised. “Estora? That’s awful far. Do you have family there? Someone that can help you with the…symphony?”
There wasn’t a response for a moment, but Delilah could tell it was being considered. After a moment, however, the blonde nodded. Delilah followed as she looked outside the bakery, frowning. “That is a good idea. I think remaining here and simply watching would be a poor decision,” She murmured, turning to Delilah. “What is the fastest way to Estora? I must speak with Anani’s progeny urgently.”
“By train, probably, but…” Delilah hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll make it there alright?”
“Of course. It is the will of the Mother.”
Delilah sighed, motioning for the woman to wait a moment. She entered her bakery again, ignoring her sister’s questioning as she placed more bread onto the basket and took a blank card before swiping it on the register. At this point her husband was getting inquisitive but she ignored him, too, and returned to the woman once again.
“You can find your way there by train easily. If you’re ever lost, just ask any of the workers there,” Delilah told her. “There’s some money on the card and plenty of bread to tide you over.”
The blonde took the basket, inspecting it for a moment before looking at Delilah again. “May you walk in the light of the Goddess,” She bid her farewell, turning on her heel and marching out the door.
Delilah watched her for a moment and sighed. She wasn’t sure if that poor thing would make it, but at least she was out of her hair for now. Officer Webber would’ve had a field day if he knew. Maybe she could ask one of the knights to pass a message along?
Before she could leave for lunch and continue on that book she was reading, however, her sister waved her over. “Delilah…she’s there again,” She warned her.
Delilah let out a sigh. Of course, there was really only one consistent problem she had to deal with; and after Officer Jannick was promoted and Officer Ulrich changed his route, the rest took their sweet time responding to her calls about that woman who liked to terrorize her clientele on a daily basis.
“What is she doing now? Asking people why they color their hair? Or did she decide to resume her fight on spectacles again?” Delilah asked wearily.
“She’s been listening intently to the radio and blocking some people from leaving,” Her sister frowned. “Maybe on your way out you can get her to leave? Or at least move closer so she’s not blocking the door.”
As harmless as it sounded, anytime that woman focused on any one thing, it ended in one of her infamous rants. Why she decided to continue to visit Delilah’s bakery out of all the other businesses, she would never know. That said, it was prudent to get ahead of the explosion. Most days she could be coaxed with a loaf of bread or a sweet or two–if she was being honest, she understood that the woman likely struggled and did what she did without any true malice–so it was better to lose out on a little something than have her drive away paying customers.
And so Delilah stepped out of the kitchen with a small basket hanging from her arm, spotting the woman among the bustle standing next to the small radio on the coffee table near the entrance. Most people squeezed their way past her as she remained rooted in the same place. She didn’t care that her ponytail was batted away nor paid any attention to the judgmental looks as people noticed the old fashioned hand-me-downs she wore that Delilah had gifted her some time ago. Her eyes were hyper focused on the radio, deaf to everything but the broadcast.
As Delilah approached, she heard the host finish speaking about Scion Nadine, who had passed. Once they finished speaking, it was as if the spell cast over the woman was finished. She turned to Delilah, looking concerned.
“That must be why the symphony doesn’t sound so clear anymore,” She sighed. “I thought my ears had dulled, but there is something more malicious at work here.”
“You’re listening to music?” Delilah asked, bewildered.
“Not music. The symphony of the world,” She sighed, exasperated. “I think it is time for drastic measures. I need to go to Estora, I think.”
Delilah was surprised. “Estora? That’s awful far. Do you have family there? Someone that can help you with the…symphony?”
There wasn’t a response for a moment, but Delilah could tell it was being considered. After a moment, however, the blonde nodded. Delilah followed as she looked outside the bakery, frowning. “That is a good idea. I think remaining here and simply watching would be a poor decision,” She murmured, turning to Delilah. “What is the fastest way to Estora? I must speak with Anani’s progeny urgently.”
“By train, probably, but…” Delilah hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll make it there alright?”
“Of course. It is the will of the Mother.”
Delilah sighed, motioning for the woman to wait a moment. She entered her bakery again, ignoring her sister’s questioning as she placed more bread onto the basket and took a blank card before swiping it on the register. At this point her husband was getting inquisitive but she ignored him, too, and returned to the woman once again.
“You can find your way there by train easily. If you’re ever lost, just ask any of the workers there,” Delilah told her. “There’s some money on the card and plenty of bread to tide you over.”
The blonde took the basket, inspecting it for a moment before looking at Delilah again. “May you walk in the light of the Goddess,” She bid her farewell, turning on her heel and marching out the door.
Delilah watched her for a moment and sighed. She wasn’t sure if that poor thing would make it, but at least she was out of her hair for now. Officer Webber would’ve had a field day if he knew. Maybe she could ask one of the knights to pass a message along?
“I tell you, what a rollercoaster of a month it’s been, Julie!”
“I agree, Ryan. Two new Scions and a High King, I don’t think we’ve ever had such an eventful start of the year before! Who knows what the rest of it will bring?”
“Can’t be anything good–tensions with Kaudus are rising and Rodion’s preparing for another war!”
“You know why, right?”
“Due to a combination of consistent negative relations between the two countries as one is constantly forced to defend its ally that is continually getting attacked?”
“Well–yes, that’s true. But as they say, bad luck happens in threes: the infamous Prince Lucas is granted Scionhood by our Beloved Mother, and what happens? Two high profile deaths–those of High King Nathaniel Estora and Scion Kaspar Mirandola–while Scion Nadine Lucienne remains missing. Coincidence? I don’t think so!”
“A terribly ill omen for the prince, here’s hoping things start to look up soon!”
Lucas turned the television off and sunk further into the couch. He couldn’t believe how sick he was of hearing and reading his own name everywhere. Never in a million years did he possibly think that his name would get smeared any worse than it already was, either, but apparently his grandfather’s death was on him, his own grief be damned. Hiding out for the month had been absolutely miserable, but the worst part was that all this was just the cherry on top of everything.
Fortunately, the servant came and informed him that Henry was ready to see him. He instructed Tyler to wait at the door for him, not bothering with hearing any protest. This was too important to mess around with, and once the door closed behind him, he placed his hand on the wall. "Nemo audiat."
He then walked up to the desk, looking down at Henry. “I rang it,” He stated. “And you were right–it was meant for Theodore.”
Henry didn’t really look ready to receive Lucas, but he was about as ready as he ever was - reclining in a high-backed chair with a pristine newspaper spread open before him, and three more on the desk waiting for their turn. He was a guest in Lucas’ home, but at the moment it looked rather like the other way around.
When Lucas spoke, the newspaper came down with a noisy crunch, revealing a Henry who looked as sharp as ever, his alert demeanour defying the dark circles under his eyes. “You had the balls for it after all?” He commended Lucas, beckoning him to take a seat. “You surprise me every day.”
“So, what did it show you?” He asked eagerly, invigorated like a teenager. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous glint; it was a shine of cunning curiosity that had often, in the past, preceded great and risky undertakings.
Lucas surprised himself by actually going through and ringing the damn thing. Granted, if he had a hint of what it would show him, he would have rather lived in ignorance. Instead, here he was, once again at the mercy of the world that so desperately wished he was someone else. As melodramatic as that was, however, the truth supported it.
He took his seat and took a deep breath. “Scion Anani appeared to me and gave me the Primordial Prophecy–the same one that she received upon being granted Incepta’s gift and the very same that converted her,” He explained, albeit he grew increasingly frustrated. “Except none of the history books mentioned that what was public wasn’t just the notion of Scions, but it included the mention of Rosemary and some shadow thing that apparently lurks somewhere.”
Lucas wasn’t done, however. “Oh, and of course, the lovely meeting was capped off with her wishing Theodore luck,” He placed emphasis on his cousin’s name. “You’re telling me that a thousand-year-old prophecy somehow correctly pinpointed Rosemary’s birth but didn’t anticipate Theodore not being the recipient?”
“Yes, well, it would seem your cousin’s fuck-up was beyond even the great Anani’s apprehension,” Henry replied dismissively, occupying himself with folding his newspaper, which was now helplessly creased.
He didn’t miss the dark look Lucas gave him, and softened a touch. “I mourn your cousin with you, but we cannot dwell on his death forever. There are strange things in motion; we don’t have the luxury of grief.”
“These are strange times indeed,” Henry continued, returning to his regular candor. “We are experiencing something few have witnessed; a new timeline.”
Lucas watched Henry, not quite understanding. “I thought that there was nothing set in stone,” He said, shaking his head. “I know Theodore passing wasn’t the Goddess’ intention, but what you said makes it seem like everything is already determined.”
“Well, these things are relative,” Henry explained. “You should know that better than most, seeing as you share in a pale reflection of Her power. It is true that nothing is set in stone for us, but our Mother is not bound by the same restrictions as we are. What remains to be seen for us is already known to Her. And keep in mind as well, that the fate of a Scion of Time is understandably a bit more significant than most.”
He shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. “Now, I'm no priest - I left that to my grandson - but it's clear that the Goddess had one plan, and in our mortal stupidity we have gone gravely off course. Fortunately, She can account for that - but not without some noticeable… corrections.”
To think Her entire plan was thrown off was scary enough. But Lucas wasn’t sure why he was surprised; he had witnessed it first hand after living out a scene he had witnessed Theodore live out. Maybe getting confirmation of his assumptions was what really frightened him as it was one thing to make a guess and another to be correct.
He gripped the armchair, nervous. “And my assignment as the Scion of Time is one of these corrections?” He asked, a little suspicious. “But there’s more, isn’t there?”
“Well for one, your father was never meant to be king,” Henry revealed plainly, giving the news none of the awe that information from another timeline really warranted. “And much more troubling, this is all happening much faster than it should be.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if he'd discovered he'd been sitting on a rock. “Did Scion Anani happen to tell you why she left you a thousand-year-old message?”
Lucas wasn’t able to contain his groan. That was the last thing he wanted to hear as something he knew was wrong deep down in his soul was actually justified, and hearing it not be part of the Goddess’ plan should have given him satisfaction. Instead, it only brought him dread. As much as he wanted to know otherwise, he ignored it for the moment and focused on Henry’s question.
He sat up, trying to remember Anani’s words. “She said…’I leave this for my descendent in hopes that it will bring him both comfort and guidance; that the task before you is laid out. Incepta’s Light will require your steady hand, that she may rid us all of the Shadow.’ And said she would pray for Theodore’s success,” He explained, frowning. “This ‘shadow’ was mentioned a lot in the prophecy, too, and seemed to be Anani’s motivation to leave her prophecy behind.”
What was it that she said? “Her shadow is red of blood, and then…Beware Termina, beware the red of blood. Scion Anani wants her chosen to band together to help Rosemary drive Termina away. But there’s never been a mention of Termina in any religious texts that I’ve read, there’s never been any mention of the Goddess having a shadow of sorts.”
“Ah, Termina,” Henry breathed, sitting back in his chair. “Did you know ancient peoples once worshipped the moon, and personified its light side as a beautiful maiden who loved the world, and its dark side as her cunning, malevolent twin?” Henry settled further into his chair, like a grandfather about to tell his grandchildren a story. It would be a familiar sight to Rosemary, if the topic weren't so dark. “The sisters were locked in a constant struggle for supremacy. When the good sister had the upper hand, there were the waxing phases and the full moon; when the dark sister had the advantage, she blotted out her twin’s light with the new moon. And for centuries, the people made great sacrifices during the dark phases of the moon, fearing that without their help, their benevolent Mother would be snuffed out in darkness forever.”
Henry seemed to lose himself a little in the story, but snapped back to the present, straightening his back. “All nonsense, of course,” he reminded Lucas, shrugging. “Not every light has an equally great shadow. But with power, adoration, and worship, anything is bound to attract jealousy and hate. That is Termina. If the Goddess Incepta is the beginning of all things, Termina wants to be the end. If she cannot have Incepta’s world full of adoring children, she would rule over its ashes.”
What Henry said made sense. What was that silly expression he heard once? Every light casts a shadow? He never thought it would apply to the Goddess of all things, but then again, he was facing a lot of hard truths at the moment, and somehow that one is the tamest. However, once Henry finished speaking, something bothered Lucas about it all.
“I suppose that makes sense, but you would’ve thought there would be archives, or some mention of Termina in the past. Instead, only the first part of the Primordial Prophecy is public while the rest lies in secret,” He frowned. “...better yet, how you you know about this?”
“Smart question. You're learning,” Henry teased. “I don't pretend to know the Church’s reasons, but I can guess based on what I do know. Termina is not a force of her own to be reckoned with. She is not a god,” he pointed at Lucas. “She has no power of her own to bring to bear against our Mother. Everything she has, she gets from adoration, obsession, sacrifice.”
Henry opened his hand, like a puff of smoke. “Knowledge is not always power. It breeds curiosity, and curiosity feeds her. And it would seem that she's amassed a critical number of devotees of late, which has transformed her from a moderate inconvenience into a serious problem.”
He shook his head. “As for me, I know about this because it is my business to know,” Henry stated simply. He quirked a brow. “Don't you think Anani told William something when she entrusted the Prophecy to his care?”
Lucas shifted in his seat, uncertain. It was supposed to be a compliment, but he felt he did better when he kept his head low and didn’t ask as much. However, everything else Henry said worried him–though he couldn’t resist an eye roll since of course it’s his business to know about all this, Henry always said that–and there was an element to all this that confused him.
“I assume she mentioned that his descendant would be the one to conquer Termina,” He shrugged. “And that’s why he kept the prophecy safe. But Rosemary…it’s just, she’s so young. She’s already had to handle being a Scion as an actual child, and now she’s responsible for beating up something that thinks it’s strong enough to stand up to the Goddess?”
“Indeed. My little girl, the saviour of the world,” Henry outright gushed, his fondness for his granddaughter seeping into his otherwise severe demeanour. He chuckled. “Honestly, I thought it would be Erica, but it's probably best for us all that it wasn't.”
His laugh petered out into a long sigh, a slight sadness washing over him. “The Goddess has asked a lot of little Rosie, but it is not our place to argue,” he reasoned firmly. “I wish she could have grown a little more, but it was not to be. She will have to navigate her fate one way or another, and you,” he caught Lucas’ eye, his gaze as sharp and invading as ever, “will have to help her.”
Lucas decided only to chuckle along at the mention of Erica but chose not to comment–she was likely still pissed at him after their conversation–but he was too used to the sudden change of demeanor anytime he decided to talk about Rosemary. The man was infamous for both being a complete hardass and also how much of an absolute marshmallow he turned into once that little kid ran up to him. What he did not understand, however, was what Henry expected Lucas to do about all this.
“I feel like a six-year-old will need all the help she can get,” He couldn’t help but point out. “But exactly how am I supposed to do that, anyway? Teach her in magic? That’s sort of the only thing I could plausibly help with.”
“I don’t know,” Henry admitted, looking rather displeased at the prospect. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you, but you heard Anani: that is your duty. Incepta’s Light will require your steady hand.” He gave the prince a smug look. “Those aren’t just pretty words.”
He did not like the idea that he was somehow responsible for guiding the chosen one. Now that he mentioned the prophecy, however, there was something else Theodore was responsible for. Lucas squinted at Henry. “...but it also says the Scions need to be united,” He murmured. “Are you telling me I have to get everyone to cooperate, too?”
Henry chuckled, sitting back triumphantly. “Time to put those excellent royal networking skills to use,” he teased, looking thoroughly amused. “I told you all those lessons would come in handy one day.”
Lucas stared at Henry, silent. After a few minutes, however, he took a deep breath. “You’re aware of my…less than stellar reputation,” He muttered, a little ashamed. “My fellow Scions don’t exactly hold me in high esteem, either.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to make ‘degenerate piece of shit’ your public persona,” Henry replied, eyeing his former protege critically. He waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’ll be an excellent opportunity for growth as a prince and a Scion.” He smirked. “Not to mention an excellent show for me.”
Lucas opened and closed his mouth several times, speechless. He was fine living his life burning bridges because he knew he would never need them. After his failures, he knew he wouldn’t amount to anything, so he was fine wasting his days away. At least, that was what he told himself. But now he was expected to just take on all of Theodore’s responsibilities?
“I can’t,” The words were barely above a whisper, the only thought he could properly voice. “I can’t. I can’t make Rosemary into some super mage and I can’t bring the Scions together–it was never supposed to be me. Why–How am I suddenly supposed to do all this?” He gained volume as he spoke, the panic in his voice strained.
Henry’s eyes narrowed, and he smacked the desk with his hand like a judge’s gavel. “What makes you think you have a choice?” He asked, raising his voice. He was suddenly very serious. “This isn’t a matter of can or can’t; this is about must.”
He stood, bracing his hands on the desk. “This prophecy has been a thousand years in the making. A great evil is rising and the Goddess Herself has called you to put an end to it. I don’t care if you have to crawl to your destiny on your hands and knees - you will do it.”
Henry was breathing heavy, and he fell back into his chair, as if the outburst took the good out of him. It was a strange sight; not much got the better of Henry Bachmeier. His voice softened somewhat. “Remember, Lucas, you are not alone. You have more friends than you realize, but most importantly, you have the Goddess. Let Her shoulder some of your burdens; She hears the prayers of all Her children, but Her champions most of all.”
Whatever protest Lucas would have had died as Henry firmly put them out. It wouldn’t do him any good to say what he was dying to say out loud and it would just result in alienating one of the few people on his side. There wasn’t any room for arguing, and it didn’t matter if Lucas was ill-suited for it: it had to be done. Theodore wasn’t here, someone had to do it, and that someone–for better or for worse–was him.
Defeat was painted across his expression, but after the silence had stretched itself out, he dropped his gaze. “I understand,” He conceded, scratching the back of his neck.
“Don't look so sorry for yourself,” Henry chided. “Certainly the first Scions felt as helpless as you - and they saw the Goddess face to face. Her mantle is heavy, but if they could do it, so can you. They watch you with great interest, as do I.” He offered an encouraging smile. “And remember, help is available, if you only ask.”
Why was it so easy for Henry and Erica to get to him? It was both nerve-wracking and infuriating, and while Henry was much more kind about it, he hated hearing those words again. Once he lifted his head and saw Henry’s smile, however, the reassurance didn’t feel nearly as condescending as it should. It almost gave him a little hope that they weren’t all completely doomed.
“If I must, then I will,” He finally conceded with a sigh. “Just…don’t blame me if things go wrong.”
It may not have been the exact thing Henry wanted to hear, but the man nodded at him all the same. There was more he wanted to say, but he figured it was better to just agree. He had a few ideas on how to rally the Scions, so it wasn’t a complete loss right away. He didn’t doubt there would be a few that would be reluctant, but he’d have to worry about that when the time came. Right, no need to overthink, he just needed to handle things as they came. Even if the revelation made his stomach sick, he had to press on. For Rosemary.
“I agree, Ryan. Two new Scions and a High King, I don’t think we’ve ever had such an eventful start of the year before! Who knows what the rest of it will bring?”
“Can’t be anything good–tensions with Kaudus are rising and Rodion’s preparing for another war!”
“You know why, right?”
“Due to a combination of consistent negative relations between the two countries as one is constantly forced to defend its ally that is continually getting attacked?”
“Well–yes, that’s true. But as they say, bad luck happens in threes: the infamous Prince Lucas is granted Scionhood by our Beloved Mother, and what happens? Two high profile deaths–those of High King Nathaniel Estora and Scion Kaspar Mirandola–while Scion Nadine Lucienne remains missing. Coincidence? I don’t think so!”
“A terribly ill omen for the prince, here’s hoping things start to look up soon!”
Lucas turned the television off and sunk further into the couch. He couldn’t believe how sick he was of hearing and reading his own name everywhere. Never in a million years did he possibly think that his name would get smeared any worse than it already was, either, but apparently his grandfather’s death was on him, his own grief be damned. Hiding out for the month had been absolutely miserable, but the worst part was that all this was just the cherry on top of everything.
Fortunately, the servant came and informed him that Henry was ready to see him. He instructed Tyler to wait at the door for him, not bothering with hearing any protest. This was too important to mess around with, and once the door closed behind him, he placed his hand on the wall. "Nemo audiat."
He then walked up to the desk, looking down at Henry. “I rang it,” He stated. “And you were right–it was meant for Theodore.”
Henry didn’t really look ready to receive Lucas, but he was about as ready as he ever was - reclining in a high-backed chair with a pristine newspaper spread open before him, and three more on the desk waiting for their turn. He was a guest in Lucas’ home, but at the moment it looked rather like the other way around.
When Lucas spoke, the newspaper came down with a noisy crunch, revealing a Henry who looked as sharp as ever, his alert demeanour defying the dark circles under his eyes. “You had the balls for it after all?” He commended Lucas, beckoning him to take a seat. “You surprise me every day.”
“So, what did it show you?” He asked eagerly, invigorated like a teenager. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous glint; it was a shine of cunning curiosity that had often, in the past, preceded great and risky undertakings.
Lucas surprised himself by actually going through and ringing the damn thing. Granted, if he had a hint of what it would show him, he would have rather lived in ignorance. Instead, here he was, once again at the mercy of the world that so desperately wished he was someone else. As melodramatic as that was, however, the truth supported it.
He took his seat and took a deep breath. “Scion Anani appeared to me and gave me the Primordial Prophecy–the same one that she received upon being granted Incepta’s gift and the very same that converted her,” He explained, albeit he grew increasingly frustrated. “Except none of the history books mentioned that what was public wasn’t just the notion of Scions, but it included the mention of Rosemary and some shadow thing that apparently lurks somewhere.”
Lucas wasn’t done, however. “Oh, and of course, the lovely meeting was capped off with her wishing Theodore luck,” He placed emphasis on his cousin’s name. “You’re telling me that a thousand-year-old prophecy somehow correctly pinpointed Rosemary’s birth but didn’t anticipate Theodore not being the recipient?”
“Yes, well, it would seem your cousin’s fuck-up was beyond even the great Anani’s apprehension,” Henry replied dismissively, occupying himself with folding his newspaper, which was now helplessly creased.
He didn’t miss the dark look Lucas gave him, and softened a touch. “I mourn your cousin with you, but we cannot dwell on his death forever. There are strange things in motion; we don’t have the luxury of grief.”
“These are strange times indeed,” Henry continued, returning to his regular candor. “We are experiencing something few have witnessed; a new timeline.”
Lucas watched Henry, not quite understanding. “I thought that there was nothing set in stone,” He said, shaking his head. “I know Theodore passing wasn’t the Goddess’ intention, but what you said makes it seem like everything is already determined.”
“Well, these things are relative,” Henry explained. “You should know that better than most, seeing as you share in a pale reflection of Her power. It is true that nothing is set in stone for us, but our Mother is not bound by the same restrictions as we are. What remains to be seen for us is already known to Her. And keep in mind as well, that the fate of a Scion of Time is understandably a bit more significant than most.”
He shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. “Now, I'm no priest - I left that to my grandson - but it's clear that the Goddess had one plan, and in our mortal stupidity we have gone gravely off course. Fortunately, She can account for that - but not without some noticeable… corrections.”
To think Her entire plan was thrown off was scary enough. But Lucas wasn’t sure why he was surprised; he had witnessed it first hand after living out a scene he had witnessed Theodore live out. Maybe getting confirmation of his assumptions was what really frightened him as it was one thing to make a guess and another to be correct.
He gripped the armchair, nervous. “And my assignment as the Scion of Time is one of these corrections?” He asked, a little suspicious. “But there’s more, isn’t there?”
“Well for one, your father was never meant to be king,” Henry revealed plainly, giving the news none of the awe that information from another timeline really warranted. “And much more troubling, this is all happening much faster than it should be.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if he'd discovered he'd been sitting on a rock. “Did Scion Anani happen to tell you why she left you a thousand-year-old message?”
Lucas wasn’t able to contain his groan. That was the last thing he wanted to hear as something he knew was wrong deep down in his soul was actually justified, and hearing it not be part of the Goddess’ plan should have given him satisfaction. Instead, it only brought him dread. As much as he wanted to know otherwise, he ignored it for the moment and focused on Henry’s question.
He sat up, trying to remember Anani’s words. “She said…’I leave this for my descendent in hopes that it will bring him both comfort and guidance; that the task before you is laid out. Incepta’s Light will require your steady hand, that she may rid us all of the Shadow.’ And said she would pray for Theodore’s success,” He explained, frowning. “This ‘shadow’ was mentioned a lot in the prophecy, too, and seemed to be Anani’s motivation to leave her prophecy behind.”
What was it that she said? “Her shadow is red of blood, and then…Beware Termina, beware the red of blood. Scion Anani wants her chosen to band together to help Rosemary drive Termina away. But there’s never been a mention of Termina in any religious texts that I’ve read, there’s never been any mention of the Goddess having a shadow of sorts.”
“Ah, Termina,” Henry breathed, sitting back in his chair. “Did you know ancient peoples once worshipped the moon, and personified its light side as a beautiful maiden who loved the world, and its dark side as her cunning, malevolent twin?” Henry settled further into his chair, like a grandfather about to tell his grandchildren a story. It would be a familiar sight to Rosemary, if the topic weren't so dark. “The sisters were locked in a constant struggle for supremacy. When the good sister had the upper hand, there were the waxing phases and the full moon; when the dark sister had the advantage, she blotted out her twin’s light with the new moon. And for centuries, the people made great sacrifices during the dark phases of the moon, fearing that without their help, their benevolent Mother would be snuffed out in darkness forever.”
Henry seemed to lose himself a little in the story, but snapped back to the present, straightening his back. “All nonsense, of course,” he reminded Lucas, shrugging. “Not every light has an equally great shadow. But with power, adoration, and worship, anything is bound to attract jealousy and hate. That is Termina. If the Goddess Incepta is the beginning of all things, Termina wants to be the end. If she cannot have Incepta’s world full of adoring children, she would rule over its ashes.”
What Henry said made sense. What was that silly expression he heard once? Every light casts a shadow? He never thought it would apply to the Goddess of all things, but then again, he was facing a lot of hard truths at the moment, and somehow that one is the tamest. However, once Henry finished speaking, something bothered Lucas about it all.
“I suppose that makes sense, but you would’ve thought there would be archives, or some mention of Termina in the past. Instead, only the first part of the Primordial Prophecy is public while the rest lies in secret,” He frowned. “...better yet, how you you know about this?”
“Smart question. You're learning,” Henry teased. “I don't pretend to know the Church’s reasons, but I can guess based on what I do know. Termina is not a force of her own to be reckoned with. She is not a god,” he pointed at Lucas. “She has no power of her own to bring to bear against our Mother. Everything she has, she gets from adoration, obsession, sacrifice.”
Henry opened his hand, like a puff of smoke. “Knowledge is not always power. It breeds curiosity, and curiosity feeds her. And it would seem that she's amassed a critical number of devotees of late, which has transformed her from a moderate inconvenience into a serious problem.”
He shook his head. “As for me, I know about this because it is my business to know,” Henry stated simply. He quirked a brow. “Don't you think Anani told William something when she entrusted the Prophecy to his care?”
Lucas shifted in his seat, uncertain. It was supposed to be a compliment, but he felt he did better when he kept his head low and didn’t ask as much. However, everything else Henry said worried him–though he couldn’t resist an eye roll since of course it’s his business to know about all this, Henry always said that–and there was an element to all this that confused him.
“I assume she mentioned that his descendant would be the one to conquer Termina,” He shrugged. “And that’s why he kept the prophecy safe. But Rosemary…it’s just, she’s so young. She’s already had to handle being a Scion as an actual child, and now she’s responsible for beating up something that thinks it’s strong enough to stand up to the Goddess?”
“Indeed. My little girl, the saviour of the world,” Henry outright gushed, his fondness for his granddaughter seeping into his otherwise severe demeanour. He chuckled. “Honestly, I thought it would be Erica, but it's probably best for us all that it wasn't.”
His laugh petered out into a long sigh, a slight sadness washing over him. “The Goddess has asked a lot of little Rosie, but it is not our place to argue,” he reasoned firmly. “I wish she could have grown a little more, but it was not to be. She will have to navigate her fate one way or another, and you,” he caught Lucas’ eye, his gaze as sharp and invading as ever, “will have to help her.”
Lucas decided only to chuckle along at the mention of Erica but chose not to comment–she was likely still pissed at him after their conversation–but he was too used to the sudden change of demeanor anytime he decided to talk about Rosemary. The man was infamous for both being a complete hardass and also how much of an absolute marshmallow he turned into once that little kid ran up to him. What he did not understand, however, was what Henry expected Lucas to do about all this.
“I feel like a six-year-old will need all the help she can get,” He couldn’t help but point out. “But exactly how am I supposed to do that, anyway? Teach her in magic? That’s sort of the only thing I could plausibly help with.”
“I don’t know,” Henry admitted, looking rather displeased at the prospect. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you, but you heard Anani: that is your duty. Incepta’s Light will require your steady hand.” He gave the prince a smug look. “Those aren’t just pretty words.”
He did not like the idea that he was somehow responsible for guiding the chosen one. Now that he mentioned the prophecy, however, there was something else Theodore was responsible for. Lucas squinted at Henry. “...but it also says the Scions need to be united,” He murmured. “Are you telling me I have to get everyone to cooperate, too?”
Henry chuckled, sitting back triumphantly. “Time to put those excellent royal networking skills to use,” he teased, looking thoroughly amused. “I told you all those lessons would come in handy one day.”
Lucas stared at Henry, silent. After a few minutes, however, he took a deep breath. “You’re aware of my…less than stellar reputation,” He muttered, a little ashamed. “My fellow Scions don’t exactly hold me in high esteem, either.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to make ‘degenerate piece of shit’ your public persona,” Henry replied, eyeing his former protege critically. He waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’ll be an excellent opportunity for growth as a prince and a Scion.” He smirked. “Not to mention an excellent show for me.”
Lucas opened and closed his mouth several times, speechless. He was fine living his life burning bridges because he knew he would never need them. After his failures, he knew he wouldn’t amount to anything, so he was fine wasting his days away. At least, that was what he told himself. But now he was expected to just take on all of Theodore’s responsibilities?
“I can’t,” The words were barely above a whisper, the only thought he could properly voice. “I can’t. I can’t make Rosemary into some super mage and I can’t bring the Scions together–it was never supposed to be me. Why–How am I suddenly supposed to do all this?” He gained volume as he spoke, the panic in his voice strained.
Henry’s eyes narrowed, and he smacked the desk with his hand like a judge’s gavel. “What makes you think you have a choice?” He asked, raising his voice. He was suddenly very serious. “This isn’t a matter of can or can’t; this is about must.”
He stood, bracing his hands on the desk. “This prophecy has been a thousand years in the making. A great evil is rising and the Goddess Herself has called you to put an end to it. I don’t care if you have to crawl to your destiny on your hands and knees - you will do it.”
Henry was breathing heavy, and he fell back into his chair, as if the outburst took the good out of him. It was a strange sight; not much got the better of Henry Bachmeier. His voice softened somewhat. “Remember, Lucas, you are not alone. You have more friends than you realize, but most importantly, you have the Goddess. Let Her shoulder some of your burdens; She hears the prayers of all Her children, but Her champions most of all.”
Whatever protest Lucas would have had died as Henry firmly put them out. It wouldn’t do him any good to say what he was dying to say out loud and it would just result in alienating one of the few people on his side. There wasn’t any room for arguing, and it didn’t matter if Lucas was ill-suited for it: it had to be done. Theodore wasn’t here, someone had to do it, and that someone–for better or for worse–was him.
Defeat was painted across his expression, but after the silence had stretched itself out, he dropped his gaze. “I understand,” He conceded, scratching the back of his neck.
“Don't look so sorry for yourself,” Henry chided. “Certainly the first Scions felt as helpless as you - and they saw the Goddess face to face. Her mantle is heavy, but if they could do it, so can you. They watch you with great interest, as do I.” He offered an encouraging smile. “And remember, help is available, if you only ask.”
Why was it so easy for Henry and Erica to get to him? It was both nerve-wracking and infuriating, and while Henry was much more kind about it, he hated hearing those words again. Once he lifted his head and saw Henry’s smile, however, the reassurance didn’t feel nearly as condescending as it should. It almost gave him a little hope that they weren’t all completely doomed.
“If I must, then I will,” He finally conceded with a sigh. “Just…don’t blame me if things go wrong.”
It may not have been the exact thing Henry wanted to hear, but the man nodded at him all the same. There was more he wanted to say, but he figured it was better to just agree. He had a few ideas on how to rally the Scions, so it wasn’t a complete loss right away. He didn’t doubt there would be a few that would be reluctant, but he’d have to worry about that when the time came. Right, no need to overthink, he just needed to handle things as they came. Even if the revelation made his stomach sick, he had to press on. For Rosemary.
The new barrier was complete, the vetting of the staff was finished, and his transportation had been thoroughly investigated. It had been a productive but long few weeks, and for once, Lucas could say he was satisfied. It was shameful to admit that it had been a long time since he could say he was genuinely busy and not just in bed recovering from yet another of those strange mana attacks. The days melted into one another and the product of his labor bore fruit. He was admittedly very proud of this barrier and it was the first time he was thankful for his magic. There really was no comparison to the power a Scion had; what should have taken a dozen mages to erect a barrier around his castle was done by himself. Granted, runic barriers were a little easier to pull off, but this ensured he would know right away if anyone tried to break in and he could sleep at night in peace.
And after a long day he was ready to wrap up his last task and sleep. The walk through the halls of his castle was lonely as it was void of memories, but it was necessary; Veradis Castle held far too many sentimental memories while Estora Castle held too much of his bitterness and resentment. It was easier to avoid thinking about it too much while he was busy, but as always, he found himself paused in front of an old painting gifted to him after the passing of Prince Aaron. The piece was painted by a Rosarian artist who never quite reached fame, but the meticulous attention to detail made for a timeless piece. Prince Aaron stood at the heart of the composition, exuding a sense of responsibility and protection for his family with a gentle smile. His wife, the previous Scion of Water Lilie Fiorella, stood close with him, sporting an elegant white braid as she held Aaron’s arm. He never had the chance to meet her, but he was always told of her kind heart despite her humble origins. A considerably younger Henry stood proud next to them, a copy of his father in nearly every feature except for the fullness of his cheeks that he inherited from his mother. His two younger sisters–Elizabeth and Olivia, if he remembered right–had bright smiles as they held hands.
Why Prince Aaron had gifted an old family portrait to him, Lucas had no idea. But he was touched to have been mentioned in the will in any capacity, so he took it. Both the Prince and Henry were exceedingly young here, he remembered how as a kid he couldn’t comprehend that it was the same adults he met at the castle in the picture. What fascinated him about it was that it was the only family portrait that he had seen where the family was depicted smiling–he remembered being so confused about it. In hindsight, the Prince might’ve mistaken his confusion for interest. What really interested Lucas was how sure of himself Prince Aaron looked. Henry’s words popped into his head at that moment, and while he referred to the First Scions, surely he had also meant his own father. The wrinkled old man who patted his head when he was a small child was the same one who had to ascend the throne at fourteen years of age and struck down a Scion that had strayed from Incepta’s light. What had been going through his head? Did he ever panic like Lucas did? Was he ever worried about how he would accomplish the things asked of him? There wasn’t any way to tell, but he lived through it all, so it must have meant something. But Lucas was aware he wasn't nearly half the prince Aaron was. Doubt clawed its way into his mind, digging deeper the more he thought about things. The only thing that really had him shake it off and keep going was knowing it was all for Rosemary's sake. If he was being honest, however, that same thought frightened him.
“Your Highness?”
Lucas nearly jumped out of his skin at the greeting. Duchess Patricia frowned at him, a quizzical gaze following his to the painting. She inspected it for a moment before looking back at him. “My apologies, I was in thought,” He said, unexpectedly turning back to the painting.
“About the painting?” She asked. “If I remember correctly, it was commissioned by His Highness for his wife’s birthday. I believe Henry has another from the same artist but from a later year.”
He wanted to say it wasn’t the painting itself that had him thinking, but he guessed that admitting what he was actually thinking about was too embarrassing to admit out loud, especially since he had no real relation to the man in question. He was getting lost in thought a lot these days, he realized. “I see,” was all he could say to that, tearing himself away from the portrait.
Patricia followed him dutifully. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” His response was quick, but he wasn’t exactly expecting the question from her. “Why?”
“Is it strange to ask? I’d think it was more strange to have so many doctors visiting a healthy, young man like yourself.”
She wasn’t wrong. Unfortunately, the thing that happened to him with his mana at Duke Giles’ manor decided that it would move into a more haphazard schedule. It was frustrating that no doctor could properly figure out why it was happening, though the last attack was so bad he ended up having to sit out his father’s coronation. Not that he would complain; he hadn’t planned on attending that charade, the only difference was that he had a legitimate reason. But no change in diet or exercise gave him any relief and it seemed that they were here to stay. The only solace was that he was getting better at anticipating when it was going to happen and avoided including Tyler in the pain train for the most part.
“I’m not as healthy as I look,” He would only give that much of a response before the pair entered his office.
Either she had no further comment or realized that he wasn't going to speak more on the topic. “Sir Morris informed me he would return soon. The new security detail is now to his liking,” Patricia said once Lucas sat down at his desk. “I’ve finished vetting the staff as well and have your letters for the day here.”
Right, he had forgotten about those. He typically left them to one of the servants of the castle to take care of since he couldn’t be bothered–anyone that actually mattered to him communicated through email or text–but if he was going to start taking his own duties seriously, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what people actually wanted so he could wrangle them under his thumb. A lot of his vassals were older and were more likely to communicate via letters, so he made sure to start checking them. That said, it still slipped his mind so he was getting to them later than usual. If Patricia hadn’t brought it up, he would’ve forgotten. Actually, the duchess had been a big help getting this all done so quickly. Henry had recommended her help after his visit and the past few weeks went effortlessly through no small part of her own. Not that his staff hadn’t been inefficient before, but his insistence on hiring people that weren’t from Estora Castle as was customary had come back to haunt him as Patricia poked holes in their schedules, the responsibilities being scattered around, and brought to attention his insistence on hiring as few people as possible meant the workload was much too heavy, even if he was the only one being served. She reassigned duties, got rid of any incompetence, hired sharp, dutiful workers, and had the castle running much more smoothly. Granted, the woman had experience running Veradis Castle, so this must’ve been much easier in comparison. But with her children grown and out of her own estate, he wondered if she was left wanting for work.
“Duchess, would you consider staying here if I asked?” He suddenly asked her as he accepted the letters. “Running things, I mean. Though I imagine it might get dull compared to Veradis.”
“I would be honored, Your Highness,” She replied. “On the contrary, running something of this size would be more manageable for someone my age.”
At that, he couldn’t help but scoff. The woman was, what, in her sixties? And she was still sharper than most people he met. “I didn’t know you were one to sway towards something easier,” He couldn’t help but reply as he opened up and scanned the first letter from some count complaining about a dam. “But if you want it, the position is yours.”
“I’ll have my belongings moved here, then. Shall I inform the staff?”
“They can find out tomorrow,” He tossed the letter aside before looking through the envelopes, hoping one would get his interest. Unfortunately, he got exactly what he was looking for as a letter from De la Lune–a mage academy he had applied to some months back, before he became a Scion–got his attention. Suddenly getting confronted with this made him much more aware that the Duchess was watching him, so he ripped open the envelope without hesitation, a foreign anxiety mixing something uncomfortable in his stomach.
To The Esteemed Prince Lucas:
We are delighted to welcome you to l'École d'Enchantement de la Lune–
His first instinct was to immediately crumple up the letter, disbelief gripping him. Of course he would get it now. A dream of his was right in his hands, taunting him, mocking him for ever believing that any path he wanted to take for himself in his life was his to choose if he only applied himself. He was less convinced that he had the Goddess to rely on, because why would she spare him just a sliver of compassion when she could just continue to dunk on him for kicks? Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he simply tossed the letter aside before looking at the rest. Well, he could use the invitation as an excuse to visit Dr. Rhaveus without raising suspicion, so he would begrudgingly thank the Goddess and move on.
Speaking of which, a letter from Father Bachmeier was waiting for him next. He’d accept this as an apology from the universe if it went the way he wanted. Ignoring the writing, he muttered something under his breath and waited until a golden script appeared in the header. To his delight, it had exactly what he was looking for: Dr. Rhaveus had come up with a theory on mana negation and it was the hot topic of the academies. Negation sounded a lot like what had happened, but he needed confirmation instead of depending on the rumormill.
“Send a letter out to my fellow Scions. It’s time we met outside of public eyes,” He stated as he got up from his chair. “Set a meeting for the twelfth and make it clear that it’s important so they don’t skip out.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” She looked at his desk. “Shall I see to the rest of the letters as well, Your Highness?”
“Yeah, just give me the important things from them tomorrow. If Sir Morris shows up here, tell him I’m going to bed.”
“And the letter from De la Lune?”
Lucas didn’t let it break his stride. “Just toss it. The Goddess has decreed that I’ll be learning through a trial by fire,” He replied bitterly.
And after a long day he was ready to wrap up his last task and sleep. The walk through the halls of his castle was lonely as it was void of memories, but it was necessary; Veradis Castle held far too many sentimental memories while Estora Castle held too much of his bitterness and resentment. It was easier to avoid thinking about it too much while he was busy, but as always, he found himself paused in front of an old painting gifted to him after the passing of Prince Aaron. The piece was painted by a Rosarian artist who never quite reached fame, but the meticulous attention to detail made for a timeless piece. Prince Aaron stood at the heart of the composition, exuding a sense of responsibility and protection for his family with a gentle smile. His wife, the previous Scion of Water Lilie Fiorella, stood close with him, sporting an elegant white braid as she held Aaron’s arm. He never had the chance to meet her, but he was always told of her kind heart despite her humble origins. A considerably younger Henry stood proud next to them, a copy of his father in nearly every feature except for the fullness of his cheeks that he inherited from his mother. His two younger sisters–Elizabeth and Olivia, if he remembered right–had bright smiles as they held hands.
Why Prince Aaron had gifted an old family portrait to him, Lucas had no idea. But he was touched to have been mentioned in the will in any capacity, so he took it. Both the Prince and Henry were exceedingly young here, he remembered how as a kid he couldn’t comprehend that it was the same adults he met at the castle in the picture. What fascinated him about it was that it was the only family portrait that he had seen where the family was depicted smiling–he remembered being so confused about it. In hindsight, the Prince might’ve mistaken his confusion for interest. What really interested Lucas was how sure of himself Prince Aaron looked. Henry’s words popped into his head at that moment, and while he referred to the First Scions, surely he had also meant his own father. The wrinkled old man who patted his head when he was a small child was the same one who had to ascend the throne at fourteen years of age and struck down a Scion that had strayed from Incepta’s light. What had been going through his head? Did he ever panic like Lucas did? Was he ever worried about how he would accomplish the things asked of him? There wasn’t any way to tell, but he lived through it all, so it must have meant something. But Lucas was aware he wasn't nearly half the prince Aaron was. Doubt clawed its way into his mind, digging deeper the more he thought about things. The only thing that really had him shake it off and keep going was knowing it was all for Rosemary's sake. If he was being honest, however, that same thought frightened him.
“Your Highness?”
Lucas nearly jumped out of his skin at the greeting. Duchess Patricia frowned at him, a quizzical gaze following his to the painting. She inspected it for a moment before looking back at him. “My apologies, I was in thought,” He said, unexpectedly turning back to the painting.
“About the painting?” She asked. “If I remember correctly, it was commissioned by His Highness for his wife’s birthday. I believe Henry has another from the same artist but from a later year.”
He wanted to say it wasn’t the painting itself that had him thinking, but he guessed that admitting what he was actually thinking about was too embarrassing to admit out loud, especially since he had no real relation to the man in question. He was getting lost in thought a lot these days, he realized. “I see,” was all he could say to that, tearing himself away from the portrait.
Patricia followed him dutifully. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” His response was quick, but he wasn’t exactly expecting the question from her. “Why?”
“Is it strange to ask? I’d think it was more strange to have so many doctors visiting a healthy, young man like yourself.”
She wasn’t wrong. Unfortunately, the thing that happened to him with his mana at Duke Giles’ manor decided that it would move into a more haphazard schedule. It was frustrating that no doctor could properly figure out why it was happening, though the last attack was so bad he ended up having to sit out his father’s coronation. Not that he would complain; he hadn’t planned on attending that charade, the only difference was that he had a legitimate reason. But no change in diet or exercise gave him any relief and it seemed that they were here to stay. The only solace was that he was getting better at anticipating when it was going to happen and avoided including Tyler in the pain train for the most part.
“I’m not as healthy as I look,” He would only give that much of a response before the pair entered his office.
Either she had no further comment or realized that he wasn't going to speak more on the topic. “Sir Morris informed me he would return soon. The new security detail is now to his liking,” Patricia said once Lucas sat down at his desk. “I’ve finished vetting the staff as well and have your letters for the day here.”
Right, he had forgotten about those. He typically left them to one of the servants of the castle to take care of since he couldn’t be bothered–anyone that actually mattered to him communicated through email or text–but if he was going to start taking his own duties seriously, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what people actually wanted so he could wrangle them under his thumb. A lot of his vassals were older and were more likely to communicate via letters, so he made sure to start checking them. That said, it still slipped his mind so he was getting to them later than usual. If Patricia hadn’t brought it up, he would’ve forgotten. Actually, the duchess had been a big help getting this all done so quickly. Henry had recommended her help after his visit and the past few weeks went effortlessly through no small part of her own. Not that his staff hadn’t been inefficient before, but his insistence on hiring people that weren’t from Estora Castle as was customary had come back to haunt him as Patricia poked holes in their schedules, the responsibilities being scattered around, and brought to attention his insistence on hiring as few people as possible meant the workload was much too heavy, even if he was the only one being served. She reassigned duties, got rid of any incompetence, hired sharp, dutiful workers, and had the castle running much more smoothly. Granted, the woman had experience running Veradis Castle, so this must’ve been much easier in comparison. But with her children grown and out of her own estate, he wondered if she was left wanting for work.
“Duchess, would you consider staying here if I asked?” He suddenly asked her as he accepted the letters. “Running things, I mean. Though I imagine it might get dull compared to Veradis.”
“I would be honored, Your Highness,” She replied. “On the contrary, running something of this size would be more manageable for someone my age.”
At that, he couldn’t help but scoff. The woman was, what, in her sixties? And she was still sharper than most people he met. “I didn’t know you were one to sway towards something easier,” He couldn’t help but reply as he opened up and scanned the first letter from some count complaining about a dam. “But if you want it, the position is yours.”
“I’ll have my belongings moved here, then. Shall I inform the staff?”
“They can find out tomorrow,” He tossed the letter aside before looking through the envelopes, hoping one would get his interest. Unfortunately, he got exactly what he was looking for as a letter from De la Lune–a mage academy he had applied to some months back, before he became a Scion–got his attention. Suddenly getting confronted with this made him much more aware that the Duchess was watching him, so he ripped open the envelope without hesitation, a foreign anxiety mixing something uncomfortable in his stomach.
To The Esteemed Prince Lucas:
We are delighted to welcome you to l'École d'Enchantement de la Lune–
His first instinct was to immediately crumple up the letter, disbelief gripping him. Of course he would get it now. A dream of his was right in his hands, taunting him, mocking him for ever believing that any path he wanted to take for himself in his life was his to choose if he only applied himself. He was less convinced that he had the Goddess to rely on, because why would she spare him just a sliver of compassion when she could just continue to dunk on him for kicks? Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he simply tossed the letter aside before looking at the rest. Well, he could use the invitation as an excuse to visit Dr. Rhaveus without raising suspicion, so he would begrudgingly thank the Goddess and move on.
Speaking of which, a letter from Father Bachmeier was waiting for him next. He’d accept this as an apology from the universe if it went the way he wanted. Ignoring the writing, he muttered something under his breath and waited until a golden script appeared in the header. To his delight, it had exactly what he was looking for: Dr. Rhaveus had come up with a theory on mana negation and it was the hot topic of the academies. Negation sounded a lot like what had happened, but he needed confirmation instead of depending on the rumormill.
“Send a letter out to my fellow Scions. It’s time we met outside of public eyes,” He stated as he got up from his chair. “Set a meeting for the twelfth and make it clear that it’s important so they don’t skip out.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” She looked at his desk. “Shall I see to the rest of the letters as well, Your Highness?”
“Yeah, just give me the important things from them tomorrow. If Sir Morris shows up here, tell him I’m going to bed.”
“And the letter from De la Lune?”
Lucas didn’t let it break his stride. “Just toss it. The Goddess has decreed that I’ll be learning through a trial by fire,” He replied bitterly.
March 12th, 1000
The Duchy of Lucania was much more modern than anything surrounding it. The bustling city looked and worked very much like a beehive, with a vast majority of people walking this way and that in what looked like chaos at first. However, a closer look would show that people knew exactly where to go despite the sheer amount of people there. At the center of its capital, Novarum, sat a majestic castle, a striking departure from the modern buildings surrounding it. While the city pulsed with life, the castle stood as a constant in all its grandeur. Visitors flocked to the castle, drawn in by its history and architecture. There were many guided tours that lead people through halls filled with suits of armor and tapestries depicting the history of Estora. From the upper floors of the castle's towers, it was easy to see the entire city waiting underneath them.
Of course, those in the know were aware that the Novarum Castle was for show. It had been many years since any royal lived there as it was much too central. It did, however, provide a connection to the Scions and Templars' destination: the Lucania Castle located a good distance away from the city. Within Novarum's Castle was a bullet train not unlike the one they took from Stern Hill, albeit both train and tunnel looked much newer. They wouldn't stop directly at Lucas' home, either; they would make a stop at one of the towers of the wall that protected the manor. Only after they passed security were they granted access within. The sheen that covered the entirety of the manor like a dome was the tell-tale sign of a protection barrier, but it did not bar them as they were able to walk through it with ease. The actual castle was humble but still extravagant, the gardens enjoying the temperate climate that protected them. Said gardens were perfectly manicured and hosted an impressive variety of flowers and trees, the pool sporting many petals and flower lilies that floated peacefully.
Once inside, they were greeted with the familiar face of Duchess Patricia Bachmeier. Unlike her previous greens, she now wore a gorgeous red dress, albeit her eyes were as sharp as always. She greeted each pair personally and lead them to a meeting room. It looked grand, with an entire wall of floor length windows giving them a gorgeous view of the gardens. The halls were devoid of servants despite the spread of food and drink at the table, and Patricia did not follow them into the room. However, on entry, each Scion and Templar could feel themselves pass another barrier, and they would notice that the room was isolated; not a sound escaped nor would they hear anything from the outside.
Lucas sat at the head of the table, dressed in a jacket and tie, though he was focused more on the tuning fork in his hand than the people coming in. He only tore his attention away from it once Princess Belle lost her patience and slammed her hand on the table, irritated.
"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" She snapped at him.
"Nope," He replied, sitting up a touch. "What do you want now?"
She looked at Sonia seated across from her, hoping for some support. The woman offered a half-hearted shrug--she would have had to admit she wasn't really listening to the princess, either. In her defense, however, Rosemary was going on a tangent on how the water lilies in the pool were some of the most beautiful things she had ever seen and they just had to get one just like it in Veradis and how she couldn't go another day without her own pool and would her father be okay with it?
"It is disingenuous to not listen to a guest," Sonia offered something resembling support.
Rosemary stopped her rant and pulled on the sleeve of Sonia's templar uniform. "What's--what's--this-en-jen-us?" She asked.
Princess Belle replied before Sonia could. "It means that yet again the second Prince of Estora has inexplicitly decided that he is too good for anyone despite being an arrogant--" She managed to stop herself as Sonia caught her eye with a dark look. "--jerk." She ended, somewhat annoyed that she had to hold herself back.
Rosemary ran over to Lucas, giggling. "She said you're a jerk," She informed him as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
"Better a jerk than an annoying pain in the butt," He shrugged, watching Belle fume. "I'm not supporting your inane idea to go to war without proper proof that Kaudus was behind everything."
"Is it so inane to defend ourselves against a force looking to harm us?!" She asked angrily.
"Provoking a war without a proper casus belli will have our neighbors interfere in Kaudus' defense. Lanvaldear was already concerned about our bloody history with them, you of all people should know that," He informed her cooly.
"Lanvaldear--"
"Kisses your butt and throws themselves at your feet due to being the living symbol of peace. You've made that clear to every single person you've met," He cut her off. "Norðri and Janub have also voiced their concerns, and as powerful as we are, a potential war against four countries won't end without a decent amount of bloodshed."
Rosemary burst into laughter, clinging to Lucas' chair as she doubled over. "They kiss your butt! That's so weird!" She howled as Belle and Lucas glared at one another.
