Dum Spiro Spero

See disclaimer in part 1

The air still smelled thickly of thunder and water, though it wasn't raining, and it was cold—even considering that it was brutally early in the morning. Kylier sighed and tried not to shiver, leaning low over the griffon's shoulders.

On Yggdra and Gulcasa's request, she was flying Elena out to a town called Anise she'd never been to. She'd been given a map of Bronquia to study, but while she was confident that she could make it back to the village as long as she could locate Flarewerk (which was a really damn obvious city), she was mostly relying on Elena's directions to know where that town was.

Apparently there were people—Servants from Asgard maybe—sniffing around for reasons unknown. That was what they'd said. Kylier wondered how Nessiah felt about this, and she also wondered how many stupid things would be getting in the way and keeping her and Milanor from actually making that pactio now that they'd decided to do it.

Storms, and then this mission, with more storms on the way—it was just so frustrating. Trying to schedule things so that there wouldn't really be a crowd, too.

She should be glad that she didn't have Emilia's job, though. The kid princess was carrying Zilva over to a mountain town so high up that it'd be bitchy cold even now in the summer. There seemed to be creepy people investigating that town too.

"We're almost there," Elena said suddenly, and Kylier nodded, tugging on the griffon's reins to get it to start sweeping in for a landing.

The town of Anise was on the edge of a thick forest, but the ground around it was flat enough for Kylier to land easily.

"I'll be sending back reports regularly until the matter is resolved," Elena said as she dismounted. Then she bowed and scurried off.

Kylier waved to the other girl and squeezed the griffon's flanks between her knees.

For a moment she thought she felt eyes on her back, but when she turned to look, nobody was actually there.


"No, no, and once again no. Take a breath, sit and meditate or something while I go dismantle this, it's going to take a while."

Kylier sat, crossed her legs, and fumed. Nessiah went about their circle, talking under his breath and flicking fingers in different directions. The air shimmered in faint curtains; she couldn't look at it for very long, knowing that it would just give her a headache.

"Tell me what's so wrong about what I just did. I got the freaking candles to light, didn't I?"

"What's wrong is that you're all over the place again. Your magic is escaping your control, and you were about to start a much larger fire than just a candle flame." Nessiah stopped pacing around the edge of the circle. Kylier could see that he was starting to worry the sleeves of his robes with his fingers; that and his closed-off expression were clear signs of agitation. "Clear your mind. We're going to try this a few more times, and then we're going back."

Kylier growled to herself. "You're so preachy about this stuff, jeez. And look at you—you're all mad now, so why don't you have to worry about control and stuff?"

"I do. But I have proper schooling and I'm used to it, so my power doesn't run away with my moods. If you studied magic for a thousand years, it would be second nature to you too."

She couldn't really argue with that. Because of their closeness she tended to forget, but every now and again Nessiah reminded her like now that he was technically a magical genius.

"This is your fault," she complained aloud, not wanting him to pick up on her logical disconnect. "I can still remember my imprint of your memories pretty well, and for you things always seemed so easy. Why isn't it easy for me?"

"First of all—magical combat is a thing that I was born to do; you could say that I was created for specifically that purpose. I studied from a young age and became too capable. And when it comes to the Power of Words, I always had the talent, I just had to barter for the knowledge and ability to use it—which I received instantaneously as part of the contract. They became a part of me, as if they always had been, in place of my sacrifice. Everything after that was all study or innovation."

"Lucky asshole."

Nessiah shifted his weight. Even though the motion was obscured by his mask, she could see him wrinkle his nose slightly at her. "Dear, I highly doubt that you would want to make the sacrifices I had to for my power. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mock me by saying things like that—you may not realize from just one glimpse at my memory how long that took, how painful it was, and how frightening an experience it was.

"At the time I was desperate, but if I had studied for lifetimes I would have come into that power on my own. And you will learn control if you can actually get serious about it."

When he put it like that, she couldn't help actually feeling a bit bad about it. "…Sorry."

Nessiah smiled thinly. "At least there's one thing that you needn't ever worry about. No one would dream of trying to force you into magical study at this rate—you have talent, but the way you think isn't suited for a life of magecraft."

Being told that she couldn't do anything was annoying, of course, but Nessiah was only sniping at her like this because she'd managed to strike a nerve. Irritation and shame warred in Kylier's chest, bubbling up in a grimace. "…Yeah, yeah, I know that perfectly well. Can we just get this stupid lesson over with?"

"I do have to get back to my own research, but since we're already here and all—" That thin smile broadened. "We may as well just stay here until you can get it right, don't you think?"

"…Jeez, there's no helping this part of you, is there? Get it out of your system now, I guess."

"Kylier, I don't believe that you're in the position right now to be speaking as if it's anyone's fault but your own."

Things would only get worse if she argued back, so Kylier sighed and held her tongue.


The sky was turning colors by the time Nessiah finally deemed Kylier's performance satisfactory. They trooped back to the town an arm and a half's length apart from each other: Him pensive, her sweating and frazzled.

"Not perfect, but it's definitely something to be getting on with," he remarked at last, the first words he'd spoken to her since nodding and saying they could return. "I keep telling you that this is all a matter of your mindset. Once you get over your own self-constructed roadblocks, this should be much easier for you."

Irritable remarks instantly sprang to mind, but Kylier held her tongue. She didn't want to be kept out for another impromptu extra lesson all through the storm, after all.

"This is like trying to teach Gulcasa all over again." Nessiah's tone was long-suffering and forlorn, his voice dropped to something like a mutter. "Only you're impatient for the exact opposite reasons he was. I can't tell how much of the blame should lie on my teaching skills and how much falls with your lack of student mentality. Goodness, this is so much easier with Yggdra."

"Well, she looks at things like you do, right? Of course it's easier with her."

The words had come out all on their own. Kylier had already started to wonder if she ought to be cursing her inability to keep her mouth shut when Nessiah turned slightly to face her. His expression was arranged in something not quite a frown.

"Do you know, I believe you may be on to something with that thought."

"…Uh, I'm not sure I follow."

"Roswell and Rosary are scholars, and I am an artist," Nessiah said slowly, tapping a thin forefinger against his cheek in time with his steps. "You are neither of these things. You have magical potential, even if you've not trained it before. That means that the magic is a natural part of you, as much as your hands and your eyes. There isn't only one sanctioned way to use one's power, Kylier. Even though our approach is similar, just looking at myself and your other two tutors should be enough to prove that. Perhaps we're making it more difficult for you to see the worth in magic by the way that we present it."

They were already at the town perimeter. Kylier tried to stifle a roll of the eyes: Nessiah was her best friend and she loved him, but she really wished he didn't love the sound of his own voice quite so much.

"I don't suppose you could get to the point before we reach the mansion?" she ventured, and Nessiah tilted his head at her like he didn't know what she could possibly mean.

"I'm getting there, if you would only be patient." Nessiah exhaled in a put-upon sort of manner. "If you think about things rationally, most people use some form of magic in their day-to-day lives. My Tactics Cards have been fairly thoroughly absorbed into human culture on this continent, and aside from that, just how many of our number have just a touch of the gift, or a magical Artifact? They don't devote their lives to studying magic or changing the way it will work forever. It means something personal and distinct to each of them.

"Therefore, it follows that you simply must discover what magic can be to you—other than something you need to get a handle on for the safety of everyone in your immediate vicinity. Try consulting with the others; I have confidence that you'll be able to find something if you put your mind to it."

"Chat up everyone else?" Kylier couldn't help but grin, just a little. "Ask everyone we know for their personal dissertation on magic in the life of the average citizen?"

Nessiah made a soft, disparaging noise that might've been considered a snort if produced by a lesser being. "No, you endearingly brick-headed frustration of a girl. If you ask your friends what magic means to each of them, and then use that brain of yours for a bit, you may be able to find something worthwhile in it for yourself. There aren't easy answers, so don't go looking for a quick solution.

"And—I should at least apologize for what I said earlier. Just because you and I wouldn't use magecraft the same way doesn't make you unsuited to practice it."

Kylier blinked at him. Far away, the sky rumbled.

"I think the reason you and I are friends is because of times like now, when you take a break from being an insufferable douchebag to say things that are worth listening to," she told him, nodding a little as she scratched at her chin. "I think maybe I will do that—talking to people, I mean. And I appreciate the apology."

Nessiah bowed his head a little. The motion looked weirdly formal, and made his chains clank together dully.

"Now, if that's settled—" he laced his fingers together, stretched his arms out before him and flexed his hands until they cracked— "I really must get back to my rooms, as I need to get back to the important task of filtering through the research diaries of a dead bigot in hopes of discovering something that might be of use."

His smile was decidedly grim. Kylier shrugged.

"No easy answers," she reminded him.

"Don't I know it," he said flatly.

Kylier held out a hand. Nessiah slapped at it, making for the world's most distracted attempt at a high-five, and then he was off for the mansion. The sky rumbled again. Kylier could feel tiny raindrops starting to come down like pins made of mist pricking her skin, and she pushed herself into a run so that she could get to the stables before the downpour hit.


Yggdra was in the hall, sorting papers and looking rather bored. Kylier made sure that her footsteps made noise so that her presence wouldn't come as a surprise, sidled up to her friend, and gestured at Yggdra's work.

"Want help with some of that?"

Yggdra glanced up and smiled. It was a tired sort of smile. "Yes, please." She scooted over on the bench, giving Kylier room to sit down.

"So what's all this?"

Yggdra pushed her hair behind her ear. "Reports, mostly. I have several different sources in the courts and on the streets about how things are going in different sections of Fantasinia—and some reports from Embellia, and Verlaine, and Lombardia too, because my country has war reparations to check on. We contributed to the mess, even if that's nowhere near as severe as here in the empire. Once they're sorted, I can read them through later, and pass them around to the other people who are concerned, like Roswell and Rosary."

Kylier whistled a little. "Look at you, being all responsible and queenly. But," she looked around the table and bench, "this sure seems like a lot of work for one person."

"It is," Yggdra said, "or at least it still feels like it is. I know that my father had a similar workload sometimes, because there were certain areas that weren't even Fantasinian territory that depended on our army to protect them from bandits and pirates in exchange for goods." She shuffled papers, tapped them on the table to straighten them. For a moment she looked like Nessiah, and Kylier couldn't help a private sad smile. "I shouldn't be complaining too much, though."

"Well, why's that? There's no workload that a little bitching doesn't lighten," Kylier said, and Yggdra gave a soft, self-deprecating little laugh.

"Because," Yggdra said, smiling, "this isn't near the load of paperwork Gulcasa deals with on a daily basis. You could fit Fantasinia and all its allies into Bronquia's territory and still have room left over."

"Wow," Kylier said at length. She neatened up a pile, casting for something to say. "Then again, he has got more experience than you."

"When he was my age and first took over," Yggdra said mildly, "he could barely even read. According to Aegina, at least, who says that she and Luciana had to help Nessiah tutor him because Gulcasa wouldn't let anyone else pick up the slack."

Kylier whistled. "I know you and Nessiah like him an awful lot, and he's a pretty nice guy now we're all on friendlier terms, but I've got to say—I don't think his head's screwed on quite right."

Yggdra made an understanding noise. "Can you even imagine? It's amazing; I don't think I could compare. I want to have that level of skill someday."

Kylier wanted to say something about how their circumstances were different—yeah, they'd both assumed the throne after a lot of conflict and had to pick up a bunch of mess, but that the mess was different in nature and the way they'd learned how to handle conflict was different too—but Yggdra probably already knew that. So she made a face, then grinned. "Maybe I should get Luciana and Aegina to help tutor Milanor too."

There was a rustle of paper as Yggdra let out a very unqueenly snort and then began to giggle. "Goodness, I can only imagine what a disaster that would be! I would feel too sorry for Milanor."

"But it would be hilarious," said Kylier.

"It would be," Yggdra agreed, hiding her smile with her papers. "We're awful friends, laughing over his hypothetical torment like this."

Kylier scratched at the base of her jaw, shrugged, grinned again. "Maybe so. Milanor's got a thick skin, though. He does better with adversity, even if 'adversity' has to be his lady friends taking the mickey out of him every now and then."

Yggdra giggled. "With us, it's more like always."

"That's true." Kylier nodded and bit her lip to suppress the smile that was bubbling up. "Poor Milanor."

"I haven't seen him today," Yggdra said thoughtfully. "Kylier, do you know where he's holed himself up?"

"I'm pretty sure today he's been pitching hay and mucking stables with Emilia," Kylier replied. "Shorty promised to work him hard, so I don't think I'm gonna go bother him until we're both less frazzled. We'll wind up fighting over something stupid again."

Yggdra hmm-ed in sympathy. "And how are the magic lessons going?"

Kylier had been waiting for a chance to segue into the topic naturally, but since Yggdra had gone ahead and asked anyhow, there was no point in not going ahead. She explained the discussion she and Nessiah had had and the assignment he'd given her.

"So, I guess this is the part where I ask you what magic means to you, little miss honor student," she said.

There was a pleased flush on Yggdra's face, and she clapped her hands to her cheeks, still holding the papers. "Wait just a moment. I need to savor this a little, Nessiah doesn't ever compliment me to my face like that. He really said I'm a good student?"

"He was comparing you to me, though," Kylier said, a little dubious. Yggdra shook her head.

"Shush. A compliment is a compliment, especially from him. Now." She set the papers down, played with her hair a bit. "What magic means to me. Do you know, now that you're asking me that so directly, I'm not sure how I should answer. After all, we both made a pactio for necessity's sake, to begin with. Nessiah says I should use my Artifact to assist me with statecraft in tense meetings and such, but I'm not sure if I could do that without it becoming something of a mess. We still might squeak through without having to panic the continent with news of our trouble with Asgard, after all."

Kylier leaned an arm on the table and listened. Yggdra wasn't looking at her; she was twisting a tuft of her hair around and around her finger while staring off into a corner. "I suppose it's also become a means of self-defense. I take my oath to never wield a sword again seriously; I wouldn't unless I had no other choice. And I'm terrible at hand-to-hand combat, I'm too used to holding weapons."

Finally, Yggdra folded her hands in her lap and shrugged. She was smiling when her gaze flicked back to Kylier. "I like the flexibility of magic, though. Weapons and combat skills can be treated as art forms, but really they're only good for killing people. Magic isn't only a tool for killing—you can heal people with it, and accomplish any number of small convenient things. Though," she said with a laugh creeping into her voice, "somehow I doubt that I'll be rising above the 'small convenient things' level of skill for some time. I don't have as much potential as you."

Kylier thought about that. "If we could switch, would you?"

Yggdra grimaced. "It's pointless to think about those things, and be jealous of each other. This isn't like society—with innate abilities, you can't change what you've been given. You can only do what you can with what you have. And that's what I mean to do."

"That's smart," Kylier said, nodding.

Yggdra smiled at her, kind of pained, and shrugged. "It's what I tell myself to head off my own what-ifs. I might be able to do a lot for my country if I were a grand magician like Roswell or Rosary or Nessiah, but I'm not. I'm only me. I have other tools to use at my disposal."

Kylier considered this.

"Then—would you say that magic is something you want to use for the good of others?"

Yggdra cocked her head to the side. She smiled. "Yes, I think you could say that."

They both turned back towards the papers then, because somehow or other the conversation had turned into a Moment. The air always seemed to get a little awkward when that happened.

"Oh, these are Elena's reports from Anise," Yggdra said out loud. "I suppose she duplicated them for me and for Gulcasa, though I can't say I'm that familiar with Bronquia's topography or anything, so I don't know how much use I'll be with this."

"She does her job thoroughly, I guess," Kylier replied. "Wait, if Elena's reports are here, does that mean Elena's back already then?"

Yggdra nodded. "She just got in last night. Apparently she did what she could and then decided she might as well head back. Zilva is still in Sharminel, I believe."

Kylier hummed a little in response. After that, they didn't talk much other than little back-and-forths specifically about how best to sort the papers.

They'd finished in twenty minutes, and Kylier stood up immediately. Yggdra stayed seated, flexing her hands in another little gesture that looked much like Nessiah's.

"If you're going to keep on your homework assignment," Yggdra said with a smile, "I think Elena should be in or around the kitchens."

"Thanks," Kylier said.

"Thank you for helping," Yggdra told her, smile broadening. "That took half the time it should have, thanks to you. Now I can actually get working on these, and be finished in time to help out with other chores."

"Good luck with that," Kylier replied. They waved to each other as she left.


Elena was not, as it transpired, in or around the kitchens. Gulcasa was helming them instead, looking thoroughly happy and in his element with something like three or four dishes in progress. Nessiah was with him—leaned over the table with his head on his arms. Sleeping, Kylier discovered as she approached, with an overcoat that looked like Gulcasa's draped over his shoulders.

When Kylier asked where Elena was, Gulcasa reported that he'd nudged her out because he'd wanted to play with food for the relaxation factor, and that she should have shifted around to some other kind of chore.

Tactful of her, Kylier thought—Gulcasa had been wound tight about the Anise and Sharminel thing since the reports had come in, and he'd been sending worried and/or perplexed stares at Nessiah when he didn't think anyone was watching. But here in the kitchen, his smile was easy and his hair was bundled up behind his shoulders, making him look warm and amiable.

But that was Elena all over. She was quiet, yeah, and she could be worryingly self-effacing, but overall she always did what she could for people.

Kylier thanked Gulcasa and headed for the door. On her way out, she watched him adjust Nessiah's makeshift blanket and touch his shoulder with a kind of great tenderness.

They looked like a young married couple, she thought, intimate and easy with each other with none of the embarrassment of newlyweds. Gulcasa and Yggdra were aware of each other in ways that Gulcasa didn't seem consciously aware of Nessiah, but he had a casual physicality with Nessiah that he didn't have with anybody else.

It was anybody's game, still, but sometimes it made Kylier a little melancholic to think about. That was a hazard of being friends with everybody in a love triangle. Someone was probably going to come out of this really sad. They'd get over it—it wouldn't be the end of their world—but even though Kylier wasn't half the idealist Yggdra was, she still wished that everyone could just be happy.

She stuffed hands in her pockets, walked down the hall, and turned the corner to find Elena hanging wet laundry on a drying rack, a tarp laid out on the floor to catch the drips.

"'Sup," said Kylier. Elena glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"I'll be finished in a moment, Lady Kylier," she said.

Kylier pushed her sleeves up. "Nah, lemme help, we can talk while we hang stuff." She picked a shirt up out of the basket of washed stuff. "Also, you don't have to be so formal with me."

Elena smiled with an apologetic curve to her eyebrows. Both of them knew it was pretty much useless to try to keep Elena from being as polite as possible. Honestly, after hanging out with Nessiah—whose formality always had a dishonest kind of sharpness to it—talking to Elena was refreshing.

"So what brings you down here of all places on a day like today?" Elena asked, flapping out somebody's pair of pants.

"Bored, mostly," Kylier replied. "Also, Nessiah gave me homework."

"Ah," Elena said. There was a moment of silence as they juggled a wet quilt between the two of them, experimenting as to how best to hang it up. "It's a shame the weather is so foul; these will dry well enough inside, but if we could have hung them up outdoors they'd smell of sunshine once they were finished."

This was a very Bronquian thing to say, and was also very like Elena. Kylier nodded.

"True, but it's better than leaving the laundry unwashed until whenever all this clears up." It had been raining off and on for a long while, and Kylier was fair sick of it interfering with all her life plans. She'd caught Emilia expressing similar sentiments. Maybe riding griffons just gave you an automatic long grudge against the elements.

"That is very true," Elena agreed. "What was your 'homework'?"

"Interviews," Kylier said, and launched into much the same explanation she'd given Yggdra.

Elena set a long finger to her chin and paused in her work once Kylier was done. At last, she said, "I'm by no means a mage, of course—my experience with magic is limited to my own Artifact and its workings."

"I think that's why it's important to talk to you, though," Kylier said. "After all, that's closest to what I knew about magic up until really recently."

Elena smiled a little and began picking up laundry again.

"Then, my magic—well, there is only one thing that my magic can accomplish, then, and that is taking away the wills of others. It can have other side effects, and perhaps if I practice for long enough I will be able to induce them of my own will," Elena let her gaze fall, a long sweep of black lashes, and looked back up: The deep violet of her eyes was arresting, "but I don't wish to. I'm immune to those effects as the wielder, but my magic could kill if I miscalculate its use. It's a tool for battle, Lady Kylier. When there is no more battle, I will have no more need for my magic.

"But as long as there is battle—then I'll use this tool I've been given, and gladly. I want to protect what I hold dear to me, and at least this time… I can be proud of myself for my decision."

She probably wouldn't ever forgive herself for betraying her people, Kylier thought. She at least had more sensitivity than Milanor, and wouldn't try to tell Elena how to feel. She couldn't pretend she knew everything about the situation, either; a couple glimpses of Nessiah's memories wasn't enough to tell her whether Elena had been right or wrong to decide her brother had to be stopped.

The Black Knight she'd met on the battlefield time and time again had had screws loose, that was for sure. It was also a fact that even now Gulcasa spoke of Leon with love—and that Gulcasa was sometimes more prone to forgiveness where others wouldn't be.

It was messy. Kylier knew she couldn't make it right. All she could do was offer what support she could from the sidelines, and hope that would be of help. Just like with the melodramatic love troubles that kept raining down like dominoes.

"Has that been able to be of any help, milady?" Elena asked, and Kylier snapped back to the present.

"Hmm," she said. "Actually—yeah. I think I've started to see kind of a pattern."

Elena tilted her head, and Kylier took that as an invitation to elaborate. She rolled her shoulders back in preparation to speak.

"So like, everybody we know who uses magic has a reason to do it. A reason to want to do it. Roswell and Rosary, well, they've been raised for it, magic is their family business and it's their way of life. Pamela's kinda wacko about it, but she studies stuff, so she uses her magic for that. Flone's a healer, magic does for her what bandages and medicine can't. Nessiah, bless the man's prissy heart, is an arteest." Elena covered a guilty-looking giggle. Kylier grinned, happy to receive the intended reaction. "Yggdra is interested in magic because she wants a power that isn't innately destructive. You're interested in magic as far as it'll help you with our current situation.

"And applying that to me, my problem is that I'm not actually getting anything from magic yet. There might actually be something that magic can do for me, but I don't know what that is. I can fight with my weapon just fine, and I'd only think to light a candle with magic if there weren't any matches anywhere. Anything I might think to do with magic, I can already do with my own two hands—or with my Artifact. I'd rather do it with my own two hands.

"As long as I feel that way, magic's just gonna keep being an unpleasant chore. If I'm going to study, I'll have to find something to study that will let me do something I can't ordinarily accomplish that's connected to something I love."

Elena shook out a dress and hung it on the drying rack, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps there's a branch of magic to do with the weather and nature that could help you with tasks as a rider? Or one that involves animal medicine, to assist with griffon care."

"Yeah, maybe." Kylier couldn't really imagine anything like that, but when Elena said so, it felt like it might be a possibility. "I guess I'll have to ask Nessiah or somebody and find out."

She picked up a sheet, then hesitated with it in her hands. "Actually, speaking of the weather, I don't hear the rain anymore."

Elena dusted off her hands. "Perhaps it's stopped?"

"Yeah, we should go see if it's sunny enough out to hang the rest of the laundry out there. It'll dry faster that way, too."

The two of them ducked out of the back room and headed down the hall to the main entrance, pushing the door open together.

Outside it was still a bit unseasonably chilly, but light was filtering through big gaps in the thundery clouds. A few drops of rain were still pattering, but the wind was high and the storm seemed to be moving away. There were big puddles on the ground, raindrops covering the grass, and faint curves of what might've been rainbows off in the distance.

Kylier held up a hand, looked around. "Maybe not yet, but in ten minutes or so—"

But Elena was staring over Kylier's shoulder, eyes wide and focus creasing her face. She had her pactio card in one hand, and the other was holding a wickedly curved knife that Kylier hadn't seen her wearing. "Lady Kylier, look out—!"

She whirled, caught a glimpse of someone in a white coat holding up something that looked like an unholy mating of crossbow and slingshot—and then there was a massive flash like lightning, and a great crack as the bolts tried to envelop her body. Underneath the rumble, there might've been something like a man's scream, but momentarily blinded and deafened, Kylier had no way of knowing for sure.