So there will be about 4 chapters worth of intro before the main "plot" gets rolling, don't despair. As for those wondering the crossover, it is actually going to be Warhammer 40k. Specifically, one Warhammer 40k character.
Reviewers:
Lunatic-Modo - Warhammer.
Abdiel Amaro - Truth. You have no idea how many 'super happy fanfics' I've skimmed through of this kind of stuff though. When I get rec'd over to this, I skimmed ALL OF THEM for ideas. God, my eyes were burning for days.
solarblaster - The grimdarkness will come. It is going to have a bit of a slow build. I've grown away from writing in-the-thick-of-things story beginnings.
The Coke-aholic - That is what I was thinking would make the best explanation, yes. I mean, it opens up so many options.
Captain Titus Invictus - Actually 40k. The dude's got a power sword, after all (subtle hints in chapter 1. Will be much more recognizable in future chapters)
Have fun!
Road to the Capitol
The stranger marched sullenly by her side, his cloak pulled close over his face, his thoughts hidden under the heavy cloth. Since leaving Marigar he had spoken exactly five words. She remembered each one.
"No."
"No."
"No."
"No."
"No."
Her hopes to crack the man's fierce defenses had so far yielded no fruit. Even Alicia's biting comments and open hostility had failed to draw a word from the man. And he had refused a horse as well, though to her surprise he kept pace with the horses, refusing to take a rest when they offered. Nearly half a day into the march now, and he showed no signs of flagging or tiredness. Her curiosity continued to grow, despite the sense of danger that emanated from the man.
The entire column felt it. The usual banter and gossip exchanged by Alicia's knights had faded to quiet whispers and short sentences. Horses shied nervously if they drifted to close to the man. Prim could feel the unease seeping into the column with each passed mile. Her cousin's frown likened to stick to her face, should it remain there much longer.
After the confrontation with the man yesterday beside the inn, Prim had taken Alicia and withdrawn inside, choosing to separate her aggressive cousin from this strange Reaper man. Instead she spent some time speaking to the villagers, enjoying the hospitality of her people. It awed her how these people who owned so comparatively little were so generous in with their hosting. They slaughtered a pig for her retinue, which was cooked wonderfully as she made sure to let them know, drew their finest reserves from the cellar, and made every pain to make them welcome. In return, she took time to listen to their stories, their plights, their news. A young couple-to-be were brought before her for a blessing, which she happily offered. The future bride blushed furiously as Prim kissed her forehead and wished her a full and happy life.
At the end of the night, she gathered the courage to seek out Reaper. The man had slunk into the inn at some point in the night; that she had not noticed his entrance spoke much of the man's stealth. It was not a large inn, and her retinue occupied enough of it that any other person stood out. How had he slipped in without her seeing? She still could not reconcile it. His path to the corner table would have taken him within arm's reach.
His previous arrogance had faded somewhat at night. In its place, a quiet moodiness hung close about him, souring her cheer even as she had taken the seat across. Those peculiarly odd eyes of his were lost in the bottom of his mug, and he had hardly acknowledged her arrival. With Alicia paying close attention, Prim prodded the man for speech. They spoke at some length, more her than him, asking questions that he more often than not refused to answer. What she did gather, from his surly replies, was that he was not from Feoh. From where exactly, she did not know.
What he did allow her, was that he was a stranger in a foreign land. He refused to discuss further, save his insistence that the demons he hunted for Marigar were of little note compared to monsters he had hunted in past life. When she asked, he admitted that he did not know how to return to his homeland. Which is what led them to here. In a spurt of impetuous, she had invited the Reaper to come with them to Ken. By her reasoning, Celestine Lucross, the Goddess Incarnate, could help this man. She did not know where the idea came from, or why her instincts were to offer, but she did, and the man unexpectedly accepted.
So now they were off to Ken, despite Alicia's protestations. Five knights remained at Marigar, under the command of Lacria, staging from the Alehouse to keep the border safe. With the rising instances of demon incursions, Reaper had insisted on leaving some sort of presence to protect the villagers. Prim took that as a good sign, that his heart was in the right place, even if he did not look like it was. His voice still put her on edge. His attention still left her mouth dry and her gut churning.
The setting sun cast a red glow across the road, throwing pale shadows from the trees. Her horse's agitation grew, snorting and bucking slightly under her legs. Frowning, Prim leaned down to stroke its neck.
"Smart horse" Reaper muttered, not turning from his march.
Startled by the sudden outburst, Prim gaped at the man. "How so?"
"As I told you when we set off, there's at least one demon raiding party left in these woods. With darkness coming, they'll be more active, more aggressive. It is dangerous to be out."
"We have fifteen knights riding with us" Prim argued, unable to shake the worry that settled on her with his proclamation of doom. "And my cousin is the finest swordswoman in Feoh."
"It would be to their misfortune should a raiding band encounter us" Alicia added, having drawn close enough to join in the exchange.
Alicia's claim did not impress the man. Returning to his silence, he drew his cloak tighter about his body, warding against a sudden gust of wind. Her horse danced to the side, closer to him, and Prim grabbed gamely for purchase.
"Woah" she urged, stroking the horse's neck, forcing herself to lean precariously forward to speak into its ear. "Be still, Cornflower. Be at ease."
The lead knight in the column reared suddenly, her horse whinnying furiously at some unseen cause. Prim's head shot up, eyes widening, horrified as the knight fought to calm her horse, only for a black arrow to sprout from her throat, and half a dozen more slammed into her mount. A gurgled cry was the woman's only sound before she and the horse tumbled to the road.
The cries of alarm were still rising on her knights' lips when Reaper sprang into action. His cloak exploded outwards, thrown high like a cloud, and from under the the cloak his hand swung up to meet her. A squeak exploded out of her lungs as his arm wrapped around her waist and wrenched her backwards, hurling her from her saddle, black arrows whistling terrifyingly close past her face. She tumbled weightlessly, pulled along by his strength, flailing as the column exploded into the clatter of battle and the baying shouts of demons. Her feet touched earth, her momentum halted painfully as Reaper wrenched her upright, his muscular body pressing down on her.
"Stay" his voice growled, breath hot on her ear.
A braying cry erupted like a thunderclap nearby. His weight pulled back, one hand gripping her tightly, and the cry ended abruptly in a sopping, sickly croak. Gasping frantically for breath, Prim tried to make sense of what was happening. Cornflower had bolted from the sudden melee that had swamped the road. Orcs and imps flooded the road, engaging Alicia's knights with savage fury. Pandemonium had washed away any sense of order; even Alicia's barking commands went unheeded as the knights found themselves each outnumbered by three or more demons.
An imp scurried towards her, cackling fiercely with a jagged dagger in its hand. Reaper's arm pressed so tightly across her chest she struggled to breathe, ribs aching from the strength of his grip. Before it could reach her, the world spun, the reddening sky filling her eyes as Reaper put himself between them. A flash of steel flicked out, spearing the imp through the chest. Its leering grin faded to puzzlement, gaping at the foe that had slain it. Prim craned her neck to see it fall, kicked into the mud as Reaper withdrew her rapier, taken from her saddle.
"O… orcs" she shrieked, staring in terror as a hulking beast lumbered towards them, backed by two of its allies. The leader was huge, nearly twice her height, wielding a wicked cleaver as broad as Alicia's thigh. Though smaller, the two beside it carried thick branches sharped over fire, their points sharp enough to skewer a man with their considerable strength behind it.
Pulling her roughly behind, Reaper faced down the three with her small, insignificant rapier.
"Yield" Reaper challenged, his voice filled with horrid malice.
The Orcs jeered, charging forwards without concern.
"Reaper!" She pulled futilely at his arm, trying to free herself from his iron grasp.
Her eyes widened as their shadows fell over her, a scream burst unbidden from her, and she closed her eyes tight, anticipating the cold steel of the orc's cleaver. Then her feet left the ground, pulled into the air as Reaper stepped into their charge. One of the orcs shrieked in agony. Her flailing feet connected with another, pointed slippers catching the startled orc in the eye.
Then she was on the ground again, bent nearly in half at the waist as Reaper's body rolled over her like oil, his arm pulling away only to be replaced by the other, switching hands as smoothly as she might switch hands with a book. Black demon blood splashed the ground by her feet, and her eyes widened as one of the orcs toppled to its knees, groping feebly at its opened throat. The second staggered half-blind, clutching at its bleeding eye socket. Her rapier flickered like fairy-light, moving with breathtaking speed in the man's hand as he parried a monstrous swing by the leader's cleaver and poked a series of weeping holes in the demon's hide.
Roaring in furious pain, the orc reared back and launched a powerful over-handed chop. Reaper whirled them both to the side, releasing her for a bare moment before catching her hand and spinning her like a dance partner, setting her gaze spinning so wildly that nausea crept into her throat. The massive blade slammed into the ground. Before it could pull back, Reaper stomped down on the back of the blade, burying it deeper into the road, and lunged. It was a perfect strike. Her slim, delicate blade lanced upwards and speared the slavering orc under its jutting chin.
The beast dropped without a sound, limp as a rock. Pulling her back into his protective embrace, Reaper turned in a quick, stuttering circle, sweeping the road around them for foes. An imp sprinted past them, gibbering in panic as one of the mounted knights thundered after it. Reaper lashed out, the thin blade tearing the demon's head from its neck in a fountain of blood.
The knight barely registered the kill, turning her horse expertly to dash past them both, adjusting her swing to strike at an orc backpedalling from one of her comrades' furious assault. The orc's thick hide deflected her blow, and the shock of impact dragged the knight from her saddle. She fell with a pained cry to the ground, the orc's stumbling gait stomping down on her shoulder as it launched a wicked swing that smashed the other knight away.
Switching his grip, Reaper hurled the rapier at the orc. The blade penetrated the orc's neck, stunning the beast. As it grasped desperately for the blade, the two knights redoubled their efforts, beating the creature to its knees with savage blows until one finished it with a sword thrust in its howling mouth.
The road grew quiet, save for agonized groans and the clopping of horses. The knights stalked amongst the fallen demons, finishing off those not yet ead with judicious strikes. The trample of fleeing demons faded into the distance, the survivors having abandoned their assault. They clearly had not expected a fight, and the resistance had sent them fleeing for their lives. But the cost had been high, she saw with mounting sorrow. Ten of her knights remained standing, and even some of those bled profusely or nursed wounds.
Her cousin stalked out of the survivors, eyes furious and cold as ice. Black blood drenched her blade, stained her armor. And when that blade came up, swiping the blood free in a wide arc, Prim thought she saw, for a fraction of a moment, a look of such utter hatred in her cousin's eyes that even she grew weak at the sight of it.
The blade came to rest beside her head, hovering a finger's width from Reaper's throat.
"Unhand her," Alicia snarled, "you cur."
Prim gaped at her cousin, not comprehending. Her hands crept up to clutch at the man's arm, surprised to find comfort in his closeness despite how it hurt her ribs. His arms were sturdy as steel rods, his hand… gripping her breast.
She squealed in shock, eyes opening wide as saucers at the realization. To her horror, they were all watching. Every knight gazing at her and Reaper, weapons still drawn and disgust etched into their expressions. Not at her. At the man that held her.
His hand dropped away, and she leapt to her cousin's side, her whole face burning with shame. Certain that her cheeks were red as cherries, she scuttled behind Alicia and hid her face, horrified.
"Your pardon, princess." Reaper held his hand up in show of apology. "I was too busy killing the orcs to notice where my hand was."
"Shut your mouth" Alicia snapped. "I could take your hand for that. You dared grope my cou-"
"Stop that" Reaper shouted suddenly, the force of his command silencing her mid sentence. Alicia recoiled, nostrils flaring. But he was not paying her attention anymore. Striding past the startled knight commander, Reaper hurried to the front of the column.
Prim turned to watch him, clinging protectively to Alicia's back. The rush of heat lingered on her cheeks, in her throat, subsiding into a fuzzy lightheadedness as the shock of battle began to fade. Her skin tingled where the man had touched her, ghostly sensations teasing. Confusion blossomed inside her, her embarrassment warring with the gratefulness she felt for the man who had willingly put himself in harm's way.
What had caught the strange man's attention was readily apparent. Their scout, shot in the opening ambush, still lived. A pair of knights knelt by her side, holding the twitching woman still while one inspected the arrow, still through her throat. They stared up at Reaper, watching him expectantly as he dropped to a knee beside them and shooed their hands from the arrow.
"Pull that out, and she dies." Reaper inspected the wound for a moment, then put one finger on the wounded knights' nose. "You, don't move. Calm down, you're alive. Breathe in. Can you breathe? Blink once for yes. Don't move your head."
Curious, Prim craned her neck to see better, wishing that Alicia would follow him. But her cousin had not moved. One hand reached back to touch Prim comfortingly, pressing against her hip as if to assure herself that Prim still remained at her side. The sternness of Alicia's expression was something dreadfully new to Prim. Was this what her cousin turned into when battle came upon her? Was this what the wars were truly like? Fear and terror and clashing blades. Blood and pain. It sickened her, and she rested her forehead on the cool metal plate of Alicia's armor. Reaper's words carried down the length of the column, reaching her ears in an almost comforting way.
"There, you're still breathing? This arrow looks like it took part of your throat, but nothing vital. This comes out, and you've got a big hole in your throat. Breathing stops, airflow stops. Arrow leaves, you die. Keep it there. You, how far is the village ahead? They have a healer? Magical one? Sure. Take her. It's going to hurt like hell, but you leave that damn arrow in. Thank the Throne it wasn't poisoned, or you'd be shit out of luck. Both of you, go now. Double her up, don't let her ride by herself. Keep her awake, but get her to the damned healer. Go!"
Risking a glance past Alicia's shoulder pauldron, Prim watched the knights leap into action, obeying the man as if he were Alicia. They fetched horses and mounted the wounded knight, still mewling fitfully in distress, tears pouring down her cheeks from the pain. Without bothering for permission, the knights took off down the road.
Alicia made no move to stop them.
Wiping his hand on his trousers, the man turned back to Alicia.
"Maria, Ila." Alicia indicated two of her knights. They stiffened at her call. "Bind him."
"What?" Prim made a face. "Alicia, you can't!"
"That man dared to fondle you" Alicia snarled. "I put up with his insolence at your request, but this is too much. If you still wish to take him to Ken, it will be in chains. I am not letting that beast walk free."
"He saved my life" Prim argued, pulling Alicia around. Past her cousin, the two knights approach the man warily, swords drawn. Reaper gave no indication he recognized them. Ignoring the two knights, he calmly strode over retrieve Prim's rapier from the fallen orc. A sharp whistle split his lips, and Cornflower came trotting out of the trees. "He killed three orcs, Alicia. And some imps. All while keeping me protected."
"He laid hands on you, Prim." Alicia showed her disbelief. "Why do you defend him? What do you know about him, other than he is a creep? Why?"
"Because I…" she hesitated, unsure of what to say. Did she know why? Nothing came to mind. The man was insolent, that was true. And he was rude, terrifying, and in his own words, not a good man. But it felt right. He… something deep in her heart told her the man deserved a chance. That he would do something for them. That, just maybe, he was part of something far larger than she could imagine.
Her answer delayed even further when the man turned to shove her rapier, hilt first, into Maria's path. The knight flinched back, fear clouding her face. Some of them had seen him fight, in the chaos of the ambush. Or they knew his kind well enough to understand the battle he could deliver. If Alicia wanted him in chains, she would need her whole squadron to do it. And Prim had seen enough blood shed.
Three knights lay dead, another most likely would not see the morning. The stomping orc had broken her ribs, and each hacking breath brought blood bubbling to her lips. Grief gripped Prim in a tight-fisted embrace as the dying knight was eased back to the ground, two others remaining by her side, helpless to aid their sister in arms.
She would die because of Prim. Prim had told Alicia to go to Marigar. Prim had insisted on coming along. Four, perhaps five of Feoh's finest knights had fallen to protect her.
Her embarrassment at Reaper's hand could not compare to the guilt of their deaths. Tears welled in her eyes as the knight convulsed a final time, then went still.
"Enough!"
She hardy registered her own shout. The world felt as if the sky were falling around her.
"Enough blood! Enough killing." Her tearstained face turned accusingly at Alicia. "He saved my life. Can't that be the end of it? Hasn't there been enough fighting today?"
Her cousin stood silent, sword lowering. The hardness of her expression cracked, and Alicia wrapped Prim in a careful, sisterly hug. Prim gripped her tightly, burying her face in her cousin's sleeve.
"I am sorry" Alicia whispered, too softly for others to hear. "I am so sorry, Prim."
-v-
Ulthan, Feoh
Prim woke suddenly, her heart hammering in her chest. Confusion gripped at her, icy fingers clawing at her limbs. Shadows danced around her bed, pooling in terrible shapes, silently mocking and screeching at her as she desperately dragged the sheets to her chest. They slipped from her grasp, torn into the darkness, and she let out a terrified mewl as the shadows rose, towering over her. Consuming her room in darkness.
The man called Reaper stepped out of the darkness. His face was handsome, tightened in a frown, dark eyes inviting. Prim gaped at him, clutching her knees to her chest as he sat down on the edge of her bed. Unable to pull away, she whimpered as one hand rose to stroke her cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, but inescapable.
"They are coming for you" a voice said, coming from his mouth, but not his own.
Reaper leaned forward, looming over her, blotting out the remaining light until all she could see was his face. His lips pressed roughly against hers, and she trembled as a host of hands snatched at her, dragging her to the bed, pinning her helplessly in his grasp. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a soft, whimpering sob.
"Prim!"
She started awake, flailing as a firm hand gripped her shoulder. Something covered her face, suffocating her. The hand shook her roughly. Blinding light struck her in the face. A half-formed cry rose on her lips, and she tumbled from the bed, slamming onto the wooden floor.
"Prim! Wake up!"
Something ripped at the covering over her face. The sheet pulled away, and Prim found herself staring at the wooden floor boards of the tavern's guest room.
"Goddess preserve you" Alicia gasped, falling heavily to her side, wrapping the cowering princess in a protective hug. "Prim, you were having a nightmare."
Her heart began to slow from its deafening thunder beat, sense trickling back to her mind. They had stopped at Ulthan for the night, taking the tavern's best rooms. The wounded had gone off to the town's healers, leaving Alicia and Prim to share the largest room while the others took turns on watch. Reaper, she did not even know where he had gone. The urge to reach up and touch her lips bit at her fingers, and she hastily tucked her hands on her lap. Only to feel the roaring heat come flushing through her body when she found her thighs damp and…
Goddess, she had wet the bed.
Tangled in sheets, her hair wild in disarray, the princess of Feoh let out a ragged breath and surrendered to her cousin's embrace, eyes wide and fearful as she caught her reflexion in the room's lone mirror. She could still feel the ghostly sensation on her lips. It made her want to vomit.
"Prim" Alicia cooed, full of concern.
"I… I am fine" Prim lied. Easing her way free of Alicia's grip, Prim staggered to her feet and looked about the room. She had torn the bed to pieces, figuratively speaking. The sheets were all twisted, ripped in some places. Her pillow had suffered quite a beating. It was as if a wild animal had roughed up the bed. Pulling her dress back onto her shoulder, she blinked several times and eyed her cousin. "Water?"
Her older cousin offered a weak smile that told Prim she was still worried, but fetched the far and proffered it. Prim took it gingerly, sniffing at the somewhat stale, lukewarm offering. Wine was what she needed, to strengthen her nerves. But water would do just fine for now.
When Alicia did not press the issue, Prim decided that it could be let alone. The sun was just rising, but they had a long journey ahead of them. Slipping out of her nightgown, she went to the tub and slipped in, bracing against the chilled temperature of the bath, and set about scrubbing any sign of her humiliation away. A strange sensitivity ached between her legs. It was not painful, but it was… different. Odd. Too ashamed to ask her cousin, she forced the thought aside and performed her morning ablutions in silence. All the while, Alicia waited patiently for her to speak. Even when Prim had made it clear she had nothing to say. Once her bath had finished, Prim donned her riding clothes, and accepted Alicia's escort to breakfast.
Reaper sat in the center of the tavern, four of her knights sharing his table. The man did not appear in the best of moods, despite the good-natured conversation carried on between the women. The serving girl deposited a full plate of barley beer at the table in passing, and one of the knights eagerly pushed one over to Reaper, but the man ignored it.
His eyes snapped up to greet Prim, and Prim's legs went weak as jelly.
"Are you sure you are well" Alicia pressed, bracing the princess by the elbow. "We can delay here a day or more if needs be."
"No" Prim insisted. Freeing herself of Alicia's touch, she held her head high and walked into the tavern proper, fighting to ignore the shudders that threatened her every step as Reaper's gaze tracked her approach. The man showed no indication he knew what her nightmare had been. How could he? There was a glimmer in his eyes though, a certain brightness that had not been there before. She hoped it meant good.
"Princess" the knights greeted, rising as one to bow to their monarch. The whole tavern went silent, those that had not noticed her before or heard the rumors of her stay scrambling to kneel before her. Prim glanced over them all and allowed a smile, nodding her head in thanks, then gesturing for them to resume their meal. She took a seat directly opposite the dour stranger, pointedly not returning his gaze. Alicia excused herself to fetch food.
"How are your sisters" she asked Maria.
The knight's grin crumbled, but she swallowed and inclined her head towards Reaper. "We reckon that one saved Yrissa's life. The moment they took that arrow out, it was a close thing. But the healers were ready, and good at their job. She might not speak again, but she'll live."
"My thanks" Prim said, forcing herself to stare down the man's unsettling gaze.
Reaper shrugged, and busied himself with the beer.
"The others will take at least a day to recuperate. The healers are pretty fierce here" Ila added. "We have five that can continue with you, your grace."
She considered Alicia's words, that they could wait a day or more. The haunting memory of her nightmare taunted her thoughts. She did not want to have that again, and she had a sinking feeling it might. Now, more than before, she wished to visit the Goddess. If she could speak with Celestine, the Goddess could clear her mind, ease her troubles.
"I think we will press on. They are in good hands. Please, when you are finished here, inform the wounded that they are released from duty pending full recovery. I want them healthy." She ran a hand through her hair, straightening a tangle she had missed. "The rest of the way to Ken should be clear. You will be well enough of a guard."
The knights grinned at her commendation. Prim locked eyes with each of them, addressing each by name, reminding herself that these brave women were willing to, and some had, sacrifice their lives for her security. Would that such a thing were unnecessary. The rumors from the Council of Seven Shields was that Celestine had a plan in motion. A plan that might finally end the war with Olga Discordia, the Dark Queen of the North.
She wondered if, perhaps, Celestine could find use of Reaper in such a task.
The party mounted their horses before the sun cleared the trees. This time, Reaper accepted a mount. He climbed it expertly, taking little time to settle in and adjust the saddle to his comfort. The ease with which he adapted to riding told Prim that he was no stranger to horses. Her list of questions regarding the man continued to grow. Now she asked herself it those questions were worth pursuing.
It took them five days to reach the capitol of Ken. During the ride, Reaper reverted to his quiet, untalkative self. He spoke rarely, and then only in answer to direct questions he deemed worth acknowledging. Most nights, they stopped in a town. Once crossing Feoh's border, the people were no less generous. All of the Seven Shields were famous throughout the kingdoms, and Prim's reputation was quite legendary, or so she had been told. One of the nights, they camped by a river. Sleeping on the soft loam brought back pleasant memories of her youth, before the weight of rulership was laid at her feet. Back when she and Alicia had little more to fear than a scuffed knee and a scolding from their parents.
She missed those days, though she could never confide that to anyone but her cousin.
The dream did not return. Her sleep was restful, invigorating. The strange nightmare must have been a product of her horror after the ambush. That was what she told herself. It worked, except when she caught Reaper's odd stare, and the cold fear welled inside her.
Time after time, she replayed the battle in her mind, what little she could remember and piece together. The man's movements put dancers to shame. They were graceful, if violent, and so sure of purpose. Not once did he misstep, or fumble. With his arm locked tight around her, she had been as safe as behind a stone wall. That security felt so utterly at odds with how he made her feel at every other moment. At a distance, he unnerved her, scared her. But when he was close, he was shield she could not have felt safer behind.
The man was an enigma, and one she wished had not fallen in her lap.
Troubled as she was, the sight of the White Citadel eased the dark cloud from her mind. Its soaring white spires greeted them at a far distance, welcoming them to the home of Celestine Lucross. Her doubts melted at the prospect of meeting with the Goddess. The high elf was a wonderful, intelligent woman, gifted not only in sorcery, but soothing troubled minds. She would have words of comfort for Prim, and hopefully an idea of what to do next.
The gate was open, as it always was at Ken. Protected by uncounted wards and manned by finely trained soldiers loyal to Celestine, the capitol had no fear of attack. An army could come pouring out of the trees without warning, only to be repelled by sheer magic force. Such was the Goddess' power. Those seeking her harm could not enter Ken.
Greetings were called out by the guards at their approach. Prim needed no banner to announce her presence. Her hair alone, unique throughout the kingdoms, was sign enough for any seeking her identity. A guard swiftly mounted a horse and raced into the city, hurrying to give news of their arrival to the Goddess. There was sure to be a welcoming party waiting for them at the foot of the White Citadel. The flag of Levantine waved just beside Celestine's own, announcing the presence of another one of the Shields. As they passed under the gatehouse, she saw two guards pulling her and Alicia's flags to set with the others. The news of their arrival would spread like wildfire before nightfall. No doubt they would be beset by dignitaries and officials by dinner.
Reaper held his silence, eyes travelling restlessly across the white-painted buildings and cobbled roads, drinking in the city without showing an ounce of reaction. She kept an eye on him, watching from the corner of her vision. His vacant expression remained unchanged through it all. Quietly, she wondered if his stoic act was true, or merely a facade her wore. It was hard to believe that the sight of the White Citadel and its people could not even draw a smile or raised eyebrow. If the man truly was unimpressed, then his life must have been filled with wonders she could not imagine.
The entourage of three that greeted them at the steps of the White Citadel brought a smile to Prim's lips. Celestine herself stood at the raised dais of the stairs, regal as the sun in her soft white robes, her platinum hair held back by a simple wreath of rose leaves. The warm, inviting smile on her lips seeped into her heart like a balm. Standing at her right, the tall, armored figure of Claudia Levantine stood silent vigil, her expression stern, but as welcoming in the noblewoman's own way. The commander of the Dawn Templars, the finest knights in Eostia, had always been a close friend, a staunch ally in her learning how to lead. Though not a ruler herself, Claudia's keen wit and intelligence served her well. Prim often thought of her as a surrogate mother, always to be counted on when she needed a shoulder to lean on, or advice.
The last member of the three, as recognizable as the others, stood to the side, arms crossed over his brawny chest, eyeing their approach with his own handsome, twinkling smile. Vult the mercenary, commander of the legion known as the Black Dogs, was the most powerful man in Eostia, rivalling even the Archbishop. The difference was that the Archbishop's power was faith, Vult's was war. Under Vult's command, the mercenaries fighting the Dark Queen's demon legion had organized, becoming more powerful than any one battalion of the Shields, and if the rumors were to be true, all of them. Nevertheless, he was a kind man despite his life of war and combat. So very different from Reaper; the comparison rose unbidden in her mind. She liked Vult. He was always so polite, cheerful.
Reining their horses to a stop before the three, Prim waited for Alicia to dismount and assier her. It was something she could do herself, but much insistence from her cousin had convinced her that it was only right and proper for her to be waited on. Part of being a princess, or so Alicia had told her.
To her surprise, when Reaper dismounted, he took her horse by the reins and offered his hand. Prim accepted the offer stiffly, flinching away from his gaze. Her whole body went rigid as his hands took her by the waist, easing her from the saddle. With his closeness came the dizzying lightheadedness she dreaded. The terrible nervousness of her nightmare creeping back into her mind, but also to sturdiness of his hold and that he would not let her be harmed.
She was glad when he let go, and quickly stepped forwards to greet the Goddess, willing the queasiness to leave her be.
"Celestine, Claudia, Vult." She bowed to the first, and tipped her head to the others. The Celestine took Prim's hands and held them for a moment, letting the young princess bathe in her radiant smile.
"Prim, it is so good to see you. We were not expecting you."
"This was rather unplanned" Prim admitted, easing one hand free to gesture to Alicia, who mounted the steps two at a time, hurrying to her cousin's side. The knight bowed formally to Celestine before exchanging nods with the others. Claudia's mouth quirked in a smile at her protege. She had trained Alicia from youth on how to wield a sword and how to lead her knights. The two were quite close. "It is a long story, and one I would love to regale you with."
"Yes, let us retire to a more comfortable setting. I am sure you are hungry and thirsty after your journey." The high elf lifted a hand. Attendants appeared as if drawn from the walls, approaching the horses and knights. "Your horses will be stabled with ours, and your knights may find room in the barracks."
"You are generous as always" Alicia thanked. Her cousin's face grew grave, and she turned to gesture with an armored glove towards Reaper, standing motionless at the foot of the stairs. "This man is why we have come. He is a… well, you will see for yourself."
They all watched the stranger, who stood fearless before their attentions. Vult, Prim noticed, cast a studious examination across the man, the grin fading to quiet contemplation. From her experience with Vult, the man would be sizing him up, judging if he were a worthy warrior. Prim doubted the mercenary leader would find himself disappointed.
Silence settled on them for a long minute, far longer than it should have. Prim glanced curiously at the Goddess, expecting a word. The beautiful high elf's face was pale, whiter than even her paper-white tone, and her mouth hung slightly parted, eyes widened as if she were looking at something far unrelated to the strange man at the base of the steps.
"Celestine?"
"Wh…" Celestine blinked furiously, a subdued gasp freeing her speech. "I apologize, I do not know what came over me. Please, let us continue inside. Alicia, please fetch this man along. What is his name?"
"He calls himself Reaper, your grace." Alicia barked the command, and Reaper started up the stairs.
"Reaper, you say?" Vult sniffed dismissively. "That's a strange name."
"He is a strange man" Prim replied.
"Looks like it." Vult's eyes strolled back to Prim, and he offered a reassuring chuckle. "You're looking fine as ever, Princess. It does a wretched mercenary like myself good to see what beauty we're fighting for."
She blushed, enjoying his handsome smile far more than was proper. Now Vult was a man she did not mind watching her. He made her feel special, in his own way. It was good to see him again. Perhaps he could help take her mind off of Reaper for a while.