Shield of Gold

by BrutalAftershock

They are warriors clad in gold, demigods crafted by His hand. They are His Custodians. One such Custodian is summoned to a distant world far from the eyes of the Imperium to protect a young girl whose role in the scheme of fate is uncertain. For his Emperor and the Throne, this warrior will have what it means to be a Custodian tested at every turn. By His will! Light TTS.

4. Chapter 4

Shield of Gold

Chapter 4: Names. The Golden Shadow.

Achillo

Kirche had left me a gift that sat propped up against the wall across from me as I sat on the floor of Louise's room, polishing the rust encrusted blade of Dipshit, the rather unique sword the little mage had seen fit to purchase for me. It had been quiet for some time, thankfully refraining from speaking as I ran a cloth along the blade in an attempt to clear some of the rust. It was almost as if the blade was entirely made of rust, but it felt strong with no signs of compromise in the metal. The edge was still remarkably sharp, bore no cracks or rolls, warping or any damage of any kind. I found it hard to believe that a blade this old and caked in rust could be in such good condition.

The dusky, red-haired girl had come late in the evening with a small blue-haired girl, who quietly went along with the other girl's antics. She looked so pleased with herself when she presented a golden blade to me, said to be the creation of a Germanian master alchemist. It was a lofty accolade to be sure, but upon picking up the weapon, much too small for me to use as I normally would, I became keenly aware of what Dipshit had said. This lump of fool's gold and cheaply cut gems wasn't a weapon. I was more than certain I could deal death with it, but it would certainly break. This blade was little more than a display piece, something to talk about when one had guests and wanted to boast about personal wealth. The balance of the blade was awful, being heavy towards the tip which made it unwieldy in mortal hands. The edge was blunt and guard rattled with slight looseness. Still, as lacking as I was in social interaction with mortals, I was learned enough of social grace that I knew not to say anything of the item's quality, or lack thereof. This appeared to be a sincere gift, and I would treat it as such.

Louise, however, did not appear pleased. She had met Kirche with suspicion, accusing her motivations of being anything but pure and saying that she sought my favour. Whether or not she came bearing gifts, I personally had no issues with the girl. I had come to understand there was something of a rivalry between the two, but little in the way of genuine animosity.

When Kirche had come to Louise's room to deliver the golden ornamental blade, she had come with a smaller girl. She was quiet, almost ghost-like in her lack of presence, with short hair the colour of an early morning sky, her bespectacled eyes only a shade darker. She kept herself occupied with a small, leather-bound book, and kept her participation in the bickering between Louise and Kirche to an absolute minimum, as did I.

Then Dipshit spoke, the sword cursing at both of them for disturbing his sleep. They looked rather perturbed, yet they oddly united under the banner of anger directed at me, somehow mistaking the sword's words for mine.

"You'd say that to me!?" Louise snapped.

"How boorish..." Kirche seethed with narrowed eyes. And then the quiet girl, Tabitha, came to my rescue.

"The sword." She said, her voice a whisper. She never took her eyes away from her book.

"Indeed. The sword speaks with unmatched vulgarity." I said. Dipshit ejected itself a few inches free of its sheath and spoke with the clattering of its flapping guard against its blade.

"Yeah, yeah, the sword's rude, what are ya gonna do? What's also rude is a couple of broads screeching at each other and waking me up. Now kindly shut the fuck up." I smacked the foul-mouthed sword with back of an armoured hand.

"I know someone else who would benefit from talking a lot less. Back to your slumber, Dipshit." I growled. The sword fell silent and popped back into its sheath. Kirche looked incredulously at it.

"A sentient sword? Where in Birmir's name did you find that?" She gawked.

"Some weapon shop in Ville. Only a hundred new gold for it. I'm kinda starting to regret buying in now though." Louise said as she cast Dipshit a scathing glance. "Besides, it's funny how you shown up with a sword when I bought one. I'm gonna guess that you followed us and thought you could try an sink your claws into him with gifts."

"Oh, come now, Louise. Baseless accusations. Utterly baseless. He's such a diligent and dedicated man, surely he deserves some reward?" Kirche said. What I said next went completely misunderstood and only served to push her point.

"I do not serve with the expectation of reward." While a true statement, I had not considered how she would interpret my words. I served Louise at the behest of my Emperor, so it is true that I serve because I have been commanded to, as was my intended purpose.

"You see! Such loyalty has to be rewarded, and if you won't recognise his devotion, then I will. Honestly, you've no idea just how lucky you are." She said all of this with a barely concealed grin.

"You lie as naturally as you breath, you damned harpy!" Louise said, her choler rising while Kirche only continued to be amused. I would need to teach the small mage to keep tighter control of her emotions. Teaching her some calming techniques should help, though I would be limited to what I could teach to a baseline human mind.

"Say whatever you want, but I think Achillo appreciates it. You do, right?" She directed that question at me. I would need to diplomatic in my approach to this. It's a good thing I took some time to learn from the Emissaries Imperatus about navigating tricky political situations and diplomacy. Hammurabi Unferth had taught me well, though he could have tried to be less of a passive-aggressive dick about it. Or perhaps not. That was kind of his job.

"Your gift is greatly appreciated. I understand such a thing must have come at quite some cost." I said. Kirche cupped one of her cheeks, giving me a look that I would later discover was false bashfulness.

"Come now, Achillo. We don't discuss the price of gifts. It spoils the sentiment, so think nothing of it. I just saw the sword and thought it would make you look even more dashing, what with your armour being gold too. A knight in golden armour and brandishing a golden blade is the imagery of legends, you know." She smiled.

"I see. While I am grateful, I do not understand why you feel the need to reward me. It is not you I am in service to, and I consider success in my duty reward enough." I said. Rather than be deterred, she chuckled against her hand.

"Oh but you are just precious!" She looked at Louise. "You'd better treat him well and cherish him, there are many out there who would love to get their hands on a loyal man like him."

"Yourself included, I'll bet." Louise groused.

"Just letting him know he's appreciated, that's all." Kirche replied casually.

"He's not even your Familiar!"

"And yet here I am rewarding him when you should be. It reflects poorly on you." Louise was gritting her teeth by that point. I decided to interrupt before Louise could retort as this was beginning to grow tiresome.

"While your gift is appreciated, what I would appreciate more is you cease antagonising my master." I spoke calmly and with no steel in my tone, but the words of a Custodian always carried the promise of retribution, and mortals knew this seemingly on an instinctual level. She blanched momentarily, but quickly regained her composure and smiled.

"Of course, you know I'm only joking anyway. I would never go out of my way to hurt Louise, I just like to tease her is all." She said. I nodded and accepted her placating words.

"As long as we are clear. I believe it is getting late?" I said to prompt her into leaving.

"So it is. Let's go, Tabitha. Good night, Louise, Achillo." She said with a shallow bow to us both before turning and leaving with Tabitha in tow. The blue-haired girl spared me a look and with a small nod, she followed after her friend. With the closure of the door, Louise let out an irritated sigh and threw herself back on her bed.

That conversation preceded me trying to polish some of the rust from Dipshit's blade. It had been quiet for some time and Louise lay silently staring at the ceiling. The room was lit by a candle sat on her table, while night birds called and insects chirped outside. I slid Dipshit back into its sheath, having come to terms with that fact that it would be caked in rust until I could find a proper way of cleaning it. I placed the sword next to my helmet on the floor while my Guardian Spear stood leaned against the wall in the corner.

"Can you tell me some more about yourself or where you're from, Achillo?" Louise asked suddenly. She remained staring at the ceiling.

"What do you want to know?"

"I've been curious about something you said. You said you have ten thousand brothers. What does that mean?" I smiled, a ghost of an expression on my face.

"When I said that I am one of ten thousand, I mean that I am a part of a warrior fraternity in service to my lord and creator. He hand crafts us all to be his personal body guards, private army, and the keepers of his domain. From our bodies to our weapons and armour, our existences are wrought through painstaking effort and immense material cost. The result is a warrior unlike any other, not only masters at war but scholars and intellectuals who our lord seeks the counsel of when he reaches a crossroads. In his kingdom of untold trillions, there will never be more than ten thousand of his Custodians." I explained. Louise say up, her eyes alight with rapt fascination.

"That's what you're called? Custodians?"

"Yes."

"How do you become a Custodian?"

"The process is long and painful, easily amongst the most gruelling things a human being can endure. We are scouted young and we undergo a process that takes years, rebuilding us from the base elements we are made of. From there, we undergo intense study and training until we are fully grown, training for thousands of hours before being fully initiated. We become masters of every weapon, of every martial discipline, learn every tactic and counter tactic. But we are not soldiers." I said and fought the urge to smirk a little at the confused tilt of her head.

"If you're not soldiers, then what?" She asked.

"We are warriors. That may confuse you, but there is a difference."

"It is confusing. What's he difference between a soldier and a warrior?" I considered how I would explain it for a moment. She would most likely have no frame of reference for anything I was going to say, since I doubted she had any experience with anything remotely military in nature. Still, It wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Do you know anything about soldiery? Any family members who were soldiers?" I asked. She nodded, her expression lighting up.

"My mother. She used to be a soldier, part of an elite unit during the war with Germania." She beamed proudly.

"That should make this easier then. Picture, if you will, soldiers in a unit. They train and fight together, their tactics revolve around coordinated actions that depend on unit cohesion and clear communication. They are strong together, but their tactics fail when they're apart." Louise nodded as she listened. "Warriors on the other hand, like myself and my brothers among the Ten Thousand, are superlative fighters who work best in solitude. We can fight together, but we do not do it with tactical the acumen of others under our lord's command, but we do not need to. Each of us is trained under the pretence that one day, a time will come when only a single Custodian is left standing between our lord and his enemies. That is why we train to fight alone, and are warriors rather than soldiers. The philosophy and psychology of being a warrior or a soldier are very different."

Louise was quiet as she thought about what I had said. I wondered if she looked so interested in the subjects of her lessons.

"But what kind of enemies must he have to need a warrior like you?" She asked. That question almost made me chuckle, which struck me as odd. There was such a weight of innocence encapsulated within that question, a degree of ignorance which would have baffled someone from the wider galaxy.

"The worst kind. Inhuman things formed from nightmares, traitors, creatures antithetical to human life. We are made to fight and defend our lord from everything, no matter what it might be." I said. She continued to look at me with eyes that grew more intense in the curiosity.

"Are you born how you are?"

"No. It was our Emperor's dream once, but no. My kind were born just as human as you or you classmates and teachers. But due to possessing... certain qualities, and to satisfy levies imposed upon them in ancient times, each of us is taken from the nobility of out Emperor's world and inducted into the Ten Thousand. We are first born sons of ancient kingdoms and dynasties who opposed the Emperor in his campaign of unification." It was admittedly rather amusing to watch various emotions play across her face as I spoke. Contemplative frowns, brow raises of surprise, openly gaping at more unexpected details.

"Nobility!? You're nobility? What-wai-huh?" If she could have seen her own face in that moment.

"I said before that my kind are born just as you or anyone else are. Well, we endure a rebirth of sorts to become a fully fledged member of the Ten Thousand. We are inducted before we can establish firm memories of our families, so we are very young. Then we undergo a years long process of bio-alchemical alteration which elevates us. You may think it cruel, but it is the price paid by those who opposed unification, and we now serve our Emperor in the greatest capacity. I could think of no higher honour despite the original reason for it." It could be argued that I was letting too much slip in this exchange, and to many, that would be accurate. However, I made a point of skirting around specifics.

"But it sounds like a punishment for something you didn't do!"

"Because it is in a fashion. Our ancestors stood in the way of our world's redemption at the hands of the Emperor, and were punished for it. So they were to give up their first born sons in service as the Emperor's praetorians, or face annihilation."

"But that's horrible!"

"Is it? I understand why you would see it that way, but with the fate of the world and its people on His shoulders, there can be no half measures. Mercy was a luxury nobody could afford, as our world before the Emperor rose to claim it was a savage and brutal place. Examples had to be made. It is His actions that ensured we had a future at all."

"It just seems unfair though. You don't get to even remember your families at all? How is it you know where you came from if you're taken so young?" She asked, seeming genuinely affronted. Did family mean so much to her? Well, it wasn't like I would understand that. Perhaps I could learn the value of such a thing in my time as her protector.

"The development cycle of a Custodian is documented in clinical detail. Part of that extends to where we came from, the family we were taken from, and the crimes that family committed against the Emperor. For instance, I come from a region called Albia, and my family was an ancient clan of... I suppose he closest approximation would be... knights? Yes, knights. They defended their lands against the Emperor during unification, but were finally brought to heel and their first born sons were brought into the Emperor's service. Such had been the case ever since. I have no memory of my family, but the dossier told me that my mother was the battle matron of the modern clan, and my father was the lord protector of the Albian Isles. Both are dead now."

"Oh. I'm... I'm sorry."

"For what? I did not know them, and I am much too old to weep over such a thing." I said, truly not understanding why she would apologise.

"You must have been young when they died then. You don't look very old yourself." Ah, she had been deceived by the agelessness of my kind. It was an easy mistake to make.

"I am much older than you may think. Care to guess?" I allowed myself a small smirk.

"I'm not sure I want to." She said with a shake of her head.

"I have served as one of my Emperor's praetorians for one hundred and twenty years. I became a full member at twenty three." I said, taking a small amount of satisfaction in the slowly spreading look of realisation on her face.

"So wait a second. You're..." she ran a quick calculation, "One hundred and forty three years old!?"

"That I am. I also happen to be one of the youngest, with the oldest of us being in excess of ten thousand years old. Age, as you may have gathered, matters little to Custodians."

"I know I wanted to know, but each answer you give me just creates more questions. Is Achillo even your real name?" Oh boy, she opened this can of worms.

"Names are a funny thing where Custodians are concerned. You see, whatever names we had before entering the imperial palace and rendered unto the ministrations of the alchemists and chirurgeons are forgotten. Some of us were taken so young as to never have had names before becoming Custodians. Over our lifetimes, we Custodians will be called upon to perform great deeds in service to the Emperor and his domain. I myself have fourteen names, but the greatest of us, the first Captain-General, Constantine Valdor had one thousand nine hundred and thirty two names." She was looking rather unimpressed now.

"I'm sure you're just joking now. How can someone have nearly two thousand names? Are they like titles or something?"

"If I ever have to honour of meeting Constantine one day, I will ask him. Our names function as a form of recognition for the deeds we perform, awarded to us by the Captain-General or anyone else who speaks for the Emperor. The names are then inscribed inside the chest plate of our armour by our most trusted artificers." I said.

"And what names do you have?"

"You might want to write them down if you're going to memorize them." I cleared my throat. "My names are as follows: Achillo Rhada Albia Heraklonus Nikephoron Skorpos Jehuty Ariston Laconicus Bishamonten Rama Socratos Platosius Andronikos." To her credit, she had produced a parchment and quill in record time and wrote down each of my names quickly. No doubt many of then would be misspelled, but corrections could be made.

"Signing documents must be so much fun for you and your comrades." She said and that earned a chuckle from me, a genuine one.

"Which is why we typically use our first three names at maximum. Our names are taken from gods, kings, and heroes of our world's ancient past, and the ancients enjoyed their long and difficult names. Much like us as it happens." I said.

"Can you tell me the details about any of your names?" Ever curious, this girl.

"Of course. We'll start with the name you are most familiar with. Achillo is the name I took for myself once I was of age to do so. I was inducted into the Custodes too young to have one of my own, as my parents knew to give me one themselves was a pointless exercise. Rhada is a reference to the occupation of my bloodline, being the Wardens of Rhada, warriors and sentinels that hunted and guarded against the lurking horrors of the great cataclysm that took hold of our world long ago. Albia is the place of my birth, and my third name. Heraklonus is where I studied everything that makes a Custodian. Nikephoron is where I first learned the use of weapons." She nodded along, and I wasn't sure how much she was taking in. Even so, I would continue.

"Skorpos is the name of the place that I undertook my first assignment. It refers to an immense city, full of the Emperor's citizens, where I was tasked with wiping out a series of gangs to secure an individual of profound worth to the Imperium. Jehuty is derived from an ancient god of the Gyptus, a god of learning and knowledge. I excelled in cultivating knowledge and expanding upon my own learning. Ariston is the name I was given when I held a position to secure the safety of a field hospital against the Emperor's enemies for eight days straight. I was alone in its defence. Laconicus was a name given for having the greatest long jump of any Custodian in the last five thousand years."

"Wait, what? It went from heroic acts to long jump. So again, what?" She looked incredulous.

"I've still got several names to go, so you may want to hold your questions." I said.

"Fine." She huffed.

"Bishamonten was the name I earned for being able to force an enemy commander to surrender using only haiku. He tried to counter with limerick when he thought I was distracted, forcing me to execute him in front of his men. Poetry is a weapon all it's own, you see."

"Uh-huh. Right..." She looked unimpressed.

"Rama was a name given when I rescued a soldier who was destined to become a great general after garrotting an Avatar of Khaine, a heathen idol of one of our Emperor's enemies, with a boot lace. It was... much easier and a lot less satisfying than I was expecting, it has to be said." For all of my education and hyper-cognition, I still couldn't fathom how exactly I'd choked a statue to death. One that was on fire. With a flammable boot lace of all things.

"Socratos and Platosius were names earned much like how I earned the name Jehuty. The names are taken from two ancient philosophers of our world's past, who broadened our understanding of politics and moral philosophy. The final name, Andronikos, was the name of a world that I saved a young girl on, who also later went on to do great things."

"That's a lot to take in, that's for sure. You've done some impressive things."

Louise yawned and stretched, a sign of fatigue that mortals often displayed. Being surrounded by trans-humans most of the time, I was largely unfamiliar with the ticks and idiosyncrasies that were part of mortal expression. I wasn't sure if I had ever yawned since my ascension.

"You are tired?"

"Yes. Dealing with Zerbst and her antics always tires me out. Still, what she thinks she's doing bringing unsolicited gifts I just don't know. I'd be careful of her, Achillo. She has a reputation as a shameless floozy, and if she has taken interest in you, she might try something." She said.

"Will she present a danger?"

"What? No! She's a complete flirt and troublemaker, but for as much as she irritates, she isn't a bad person. All I'm saying is that she may try to win your favour, as evidenced by that sword there." Louise pointed to the golden hunk of scrap in the shape of a sword that lay beside Dipshit, a much more worthwhile blade, terrible attitude not withstanding.

"Ah yes, that. A display piece if nothing else." I said. "I will keep watch for anything she may do. Though I assume you want me to treat her with courtesy."

"Yes. She's harmless, and I doubt there's much she could do to you without magic anyway. Which reminds me, I was curious if you're capable of dealing with magic."

"Magic is not my speciality, we had others better suited for combatting its wielders. However, I am sure casters will be easy to dispatch, but it's the magic itself. I will need to learn more about its applications and capabilities before I do anything. There is also Dipshit. He mentioned being able to 'eat magic', whatever that means." From the materials I had read, magic was an entirely separate set of abilities from psychic powers. I could and had killed psykers both human and xenos in the past, but it was the Sisters of Silence, our female, anti-psyker counterparts that specialised in nullifying psychic phenomena and slaying Daemons. They dealt with the threats we couldn't, while we did the same for them. One of the Null-Maidens could make an entire horde of lesser Daemons that would overwhelmed a single Custodian disappear back to the Warp if she were sufficiently powerful. Whereas a Custodian could battle scores of traitor Astartes that would physically out match a Sister in every way. There may be some slight exaggeration in the given example, but I believe it serves to make my point.

"I'll help you learn more about it at some point. For now," she yawned again, "I need my sleep. Its Void Day in a couple of days, so I'll need to tell you about that and we'll come up with an act for that." I did not know what that meant. I stood with Dipshit sheathed at my right hip and retrieved my Guardian Spear.

"Very well. I shall inspect security of this wing and patrol the premises. I shall return to stand guard of the door, as had become routine." I said. Probably too tired to understand what I had said, Louise nodded before she slipped from her bed to begin looking for her night wear. I bade her good night and left the room, much more elegantly than I had previously.

---

Siesta

My duties for the day were finished, thankfully. The floors were clean, the clothes were washed and dried, the classrooms were neat and tidy fro tomorrow. It was tiring work but it was satisfying in it's own way. I liked working at the academy as it was pretty interesting to get a look at the lives of the aristocracy, but I knew I wasn't getting the full picture. I doubted I ever would, being a commoner. I sighed as I took a seat in the servants quarters, grateful for the time I got to spend off my feet. My shoulders and arms ached, and my back was sore, but it was a good ache after a good day's work.

It would be my last, it seemed. My contract had been signed over to a nobleman, some royal emissary called Count Mott. This wasn't without my consultation of course, but given his station and influence, I was left with little choice but to accept my change in employment. From what I could gather, he was a man that was rather fond of maids, and had scouted me when he last visited the academy looking for 'talent'. Maids working in the employ of noble households were paid well, everyone knew this, but I would be lying if I said I was thrilled. While pay was good, the other well known fact was that maids were at the whims of their master. At their mercy.

I didn't want to go at all, not when I'd come to enjoy working at the academy. I made friends here, and the staff were kind, letting us know that we're appreciated and that without us, the next generation of rulers would be a messy bunch. Even the students were respectful for the most part, with the odd exception here and there, and I was even on friendly terms with some of them. I didn't want to be taken away from it all, separated from my friends and my routine. And things were just getting so interesting too.

A certain man in golden armour came to mind then. I wondered if he could help me, come to my rescue like a knight from an old tale. It was silly of course, he had no obligation to help me, and I had no idea if he would or if he would do anything like that for anyone but Louise. To have a man like that at my side, who would fight for me and keep me safe, it would be like a dream. Was that what I wanted? In my heart of hearts, would I ask Achillo to save me from this? It would feel like I was imposing, but surely there was no harm in asking. Who was I kidding? I barely knew him and he didn't owe me anything. I was just some silly peasant girl trying to run away from her problems. Still, wishful thinking was nice, I suppose.

I stood and set about the kitchen, heating up some of the leftovers from the lunchtime service for myself. They always left something, and the chefs didn't mind the servants partaking after a long day. The chefs here were truly great at what they did, but that was to be expected in a place like the academy, where refined tastes had to be accounted for, and quality was non-negotiable. I just considered myself lucky to be able to smell it, let alone actually eat any of it.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that stroganoff was served today, and there was still plenty of bread rolls left. With a bowl of warm food and buttered bread, I sat back down. I looked at my steaming food. I knew I would eat well as a maid for a royal emissary, at least I hoped so, but something about the prospect of eating well every day was... odd, and didn't sit right with me. That wasn't to say I wouldn't want that, and there was no way I would turn it down, but the food I ate here, the leftovers of noble children, were left for us servants out of kindness by the chefs, not obligation. It seemed strange even to myself, but in the year I'd worked here, I'd grown to like this. It just felt special for reasons I couldn't readily place.

As I ate, I thought about how Achillo ate. Did he need to? He must if he had to maintain such a powerful body. Did Louise feed him? If so, then what? She never asked for extra food as far as I was aware, and I'm sure Achillo would have said something if it were important. He must have had to eat an immense amount to have grown so large, but even the aristocracy who had unmatched ability to get so much food never grew to that size. They only got fat. Some of them immensely so. Maybe it was magic then. That would explain why he was so strong, strong enough to lift a boy off of the ground with one hand and hold him there without so much as a tremble of effort.

Oh, why was he on my mind so much!? I shovelled more food into my mouth, hoping that the thick, tasty sauce and tender beef with fresh mushrooms would take my mind elsewhere. Was I just struck by how different he was to everyone else? That was likely since I could count on one hand how many times I had seen a giant in golden armour around the academy. Maybe it was the powerful muscles and his face that seemed carved from stone with tools blessed by Birmir himself...

It was only after I had squeaked in almost mute shock that I realised that I had been staring at Achillo for several long moments while I was lost in thought.

"Is now not a good time?" He asked. There he stood, helmetless and looking at me with what could have passed for an amused glint in his eye, but I couldn't really tell with him. He was breathtaking every time I laid eyes on him. When I had first seen him, he was a golden giant of divine construction, his auric armour gleaming in the sunlight. He cast an imperious gaze over everything he saw behind that impassive helmet as those two red eye-jewels glittered like polished stones. He just seemed to suck the air from wherever he went as his presence demanded acknowledgment and his aura commanded respect and deference. He looked like a hand of the divine, ready to dispense justice unto the sinners and wrongdoers. I was paralyzed as I tried to process what I was seeing at the time. But then later on, there was a kind soul behind the emotionless mask of gold, one who was nice to me. He terrified me initially, but he went out of his way to put me at ease. He was above me, above us all, but he never once imposed his superiority on us.

The way he stood up to Guiche for me made the little girl in me squeal. Some indefinable quality had made itself known when he confronted the son of Gramont, something that made him seem even more of a giant that he already was. There was such weight of presence in that moment that I'd had to consciously remember to breathe as I watched.

Then later, I saw the man beneath the golden armour. Believe it or not, it was his eyes I took note of first. They looked nothing like I'd expected, but then again I hadn't been expecting a flesh and blood man at all. His eyes, despite his severe features and granite hard face, were kind and looked on us with compassion. It was then I lost all fear of him as I knew he would do us no harm.

"Are you well?" Oh, I was lost in thought again. He was looking at me now as if examining me, like a doctor would a patient. I was taking too long to answer.

"Y-yes, fine, sorry. Long day, you know." Though his face was stoic, and I guessed his face always looked that way, something about the way the muscles around his eyes shifted told me that he had relaxed somewhat. I would need to pay attention to his eyes specifically if I was going to gauge any reactions from him. "What about you? How was your day?" He took a few moments to answer. It was a simple question, but he looked as though he was seriously considering his answer. Did he not get asked that often?

"It has been... somewhat fruitful. Thank you." His tone was stiff and somewhat awkward. Was getting asked how his day was that strange for him? Maybe small talk just wasn't his thing. Thinking about it, he generally stayed quiet unless he had something of worth to say. Still, I suppose that was something I liked about him. He was straight to the point and by my reckoning, wasn't one to lie.

"Going about your nightly patrols I see." I said smiling at him. He nodded.

"Yes. Everything is in order, no threats found. Well, not unless you count... nevermind. I have made it a point to sweep the servants quarters. I am reasonably certain that there is nothing to worry about, but I inspect it not only for threats to the students, but to the servants themselves." He said.

"Oh, so you're looking out for us as well?" That made me happier than I thought it would.

"Of course. You are the backbone of this institution, after all. Break the back and the whole thing shuts down. I care not for class, I would see no harm come to any of you."

"That means a lot, Achillo. Thank you." I hadn't meant to sound so sheepish, but something about the way he said that both gladdened me, yet hurt me too. From tomorrow, he wouldn't be able to help me and keep me safe. I'd be put of his reach, and there's no way I was worth risking political strife for. Mott was powerful and such power brought connections with other powerful people. I looked from him, to my food, then to him again. That question returned.

"What do you eat, Achillo? As in, do you have a favourite thing you like eating?" I asked and felt a sudden wash of embarrassment come over me. He wouldn't answer that question! He had more important things to focus on, and besides, why would he waste time on pointless talk?

"Hmm, it is not something I think about at all really." I barely restrained a sigh when he said that. Of course he didn't. "I vaguely remember having a fondness for... sweet things I think. Yes, specifically small cakes. Though I have to admit that I rarely eat. I neither need to, and my nutritional needs are... otherwise met." I was pleasantly surprised that he even answered. He liked sweet things too! I'd never have guessed.

"Hmm, we don't have any cakes on hand since the students are quite partial to them, but there's some stroganoff left if you'd like to try some." I must have sounded to eager because his face shifted again. His expressions were hard to discern even when I concentrated hard on reading the subtle movements around his eyes, but if I were to guess then I'd have said he looked uncertain.

"I know you said you don't really need to eat, which honestly I find difficult to believe, but even if that's the case then maybe you should eat because it feels good. There's more to eating than just nutrition, after all. Smell, flavour, texture, even the feeling of just eating with someone you like spending time with. Did you... not do that much?" I was suddenly apprehensive. Would he think I'm being pushy? Maybe he already knew all that and would think I'm talking to him like an idiot.

"I have not. My occupation demands my ful attention at all times. At least that was true before I came here. I must remain vigilant, but now the safety of my lord is out of my hands, as much as it pains me to say it. I had no time for indulging in food, and all of my free time was dedicated to my educational or artistic pursuits when I was not in the armoury or practice cages. Food is a subject I am sorely lacking experience or knowledge in."

"Then perhaps I could teach you something." I said and put on my best smile. Once again, he looked deep in thought. He blinked, something I think he'd only done once during our interaction so far, and nodded.

"Very well, Siesta. I humbly place myself into your tutelage." He placed an armoured fist to his chest and bowed, but I could see a just the barest hints of a smile.

---

Achillo

"Gone, you said?" The head of the kitchen staff, a stocky man called Marteau, had approached me at noon as I was on patrol route. He had asked me to come to the kitchens at my earliest convenience and that it concerned Siesta. I went with him immediately. Sat on a plate on the table that Siesta had been at last night was a small cake, decorated with meringue and some sliced fruit. Next to that was a note. On it were two words. 'Thank you'. What could this mean?

"She asked me to show this to you. She left for Count Mott's estate this morning, tried to be real quiet about it so she didn't worry the others." Marteau said with a shake of his head. "Addressed her by name too."

"Is that of some significance?" I asked.

"You don't know? When a noble addresses a commoner by name, typically for employment, it usually carries the implication of becoming more than a servant. In Mott's case, he's summoned Siesta to be a maid at his estate as well as a mistress." He explained. I see, this Mott was using his influence to acquire people of his choosing. I did not like this. "It's a shame too. Girl was a damn good worker, really livened this place up." He looked at me with a serious look in his eyes. "I've been meaning to talk to you myself ever since you helped Siesta out with that Gramont brat. Never got to thank you, so I'm grateful that you did that. Someone has to stand up to these snooty kids when they step outta line. When she came back here after that she wouldn't stop talking about it." He chuckled.

"And where would this Count Mott's estate be?" I asked, earning an odd look from the man. He scratched his beard before speaking.

"What, you looking to storm the place or something? Look, I don't mean to be that guy, but some snotty kid and a fully fledged mage and royal messenger are two different things. Siesta mentioned you can't use magic. You're a big guy I'll give you that, but magic makes it useless. There's a reason the mages are on top."

"I do not intend to storm his estate. I will seek an audience with him. That is all." I said. Marteau shook his head with a sigh.

"I get you wanna help her, I do too, but this is a seasoned mage we're talking about. Think about Siesta. Would she want you getting yourself killed over this?" He seemed conflicted. It seemed as though he wanted to support me, but was hesitant about letting me do as I pleased. Were mages really seen with such fear and respect in this world? If so, then perhaps I could show the common folk that even the magical aristocracy can face consequences. Siesta had helped me in my task, therefore helping Louise, and therefore the Emperor. I would not see a loyal servant of the Emperor, knowing or not, face an unjust fate. As a warrior of the Emperor's Ten Thousand, this would not stand.

"I will being Siesta back. You have my word."

"What's your plan then? You can't just go and off the guy, he's a royal messenger and a Count. If he disappears or dies suddenly, there'll be inquiries from the throne, and Mott's own family and connections will want to investigate as well. You might cause a political incident if you're not careful. If it happens now as well, we'll be cordoned off until the academy is deemed safe, and Siesta as well as a lot of other ordinary people will be implicated." That had honestly surprised me.

"I mean this with respect, but a so-called commoner being this knowledgeable is unexpected. You're a rather astute man, Marteau." I said.

"Just a bit of common sense really. Politics is a big game of dominoes. Knock one sucker down and someone else falls and kicks up a stink over it. Besides, when you're employed here, you get an education on the state of things because the academy is so central to it all. We're regularly updated on policy and laws, hell, many of us are educated enough to be magisters, but our social standing doesn't allow it."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. I said I was not interested in killing him or anything of the sort. I only wish to negotiate." Custodian negotiation was typically composed of intimidation and waving a power weapon in the face of the opposing party. It had worked well since the days of unification, and so had no need to be altered. In all seriousness, it was already clear to me that if I were to harm the Count, it could have unforeseen political consequences. I did not know who he was connected to, why, how large a stake he had in the current political landscape, or how close to the seat of power he was. To rush in blindly and with my Guardian Spear swinging was nothing short of stupid. I couldn't use the Emperor's authority here either, as he wasn't a recognised power on this world.

"Nobles usually settle for bargains, but I'm really not sure what you could exchange for a mistress. He'd had his eyes on her during his last visit too a few months ago. Not gonna lie, I was suspicious something like this would happen." He said gravely.

"I don't believe that will be necessary. Persuasion is all it will take." I said.

"The way you say that makes me really worried."

"Don't be. I know what I am doing."

---

Siesta

Well, here I was. Count Mott's estate was only an hour's ride away from the academy, yet that did little to help the feeling of isolation that I suddenly found myself with. The estate itself was large, with a garden that surrounded the house the was walled off by high walls of white stone. Statues and gold filigree lined the walls, while the path leading to the front door was edged by flowerbeds of exotic flowers. It was pleasant to look at, but once the gate clattered shut and the guards returned to their posts, it drove the reason I was here home. I was to be the domestic servant of Count Mott, messenger of the throne of Tristain, and his young mistress. A pit opened in my stomach at that thought and my heart sank. I didn't want this, but I had no choice.

A room had been assigned to me, a fairly large room, but any bedroom previously would have been small on comparison. It was lavishly decorated with a large bed, a white wooden vanity, extravagantly designed footstools, and several things I hadn't seen before. So this was a glimpse of noble living, then? How lifeless it all seemed. My previous dwellings had all been fairly rustic and humble, but there was such warmth and life in them. Where there was lack of material presence, there was substance and character. I'd have much preferred my old cot in the academy's servants quarters over that overly large bed, and that was without even having lay in it. There was a uniform on the bed, a maid's uniform. It was red in colour, with white frills round the neck. I had a feeling that I would be wearing something to satisfy that man's tastes, and I was right. This uniform was scandalous with its cleavage exposure and short skirt. By Birmir, just what had I been thrown into?

"Siesta? The lord is waiting. He will personally give you a tour of the manor." I wasn't sure who she was, but the voice belonged to a woman I assumed was the head of the servants here. Dropping my belongings by the bed, I made to leave the room.

"R-right, coming!" I stuttered. I forced myself out the door where the older woman greeted me and led me to the lounge where Mott awaited me. We had parted ways at the door of my room after a seemingly eternal carriage ride. He'd tried to make conversation, and while I tried to stay polite and responsive, my heart just wasn't in it. I didn't know whether he didn't know I was avoiding conversation or simply didn't care, but I was grateful that he at least didn't say anything about it.

Mott was a portly man who clearly enjoyed the things his wealth and power gave him. His rotund form made it obvious that food was one of his indulgences. His fingers bore rings of gold slotted with gems; ruby, sapphire, and pearl. I'd known people who would kill for just a taste of that wealth.

"Ah, there you are. I trust the room assigned to you was to your liking?" Mott asked.

"Yes, it was wonderful." I replied, giving him the only answer he expected from me. He smiled and beckoned me to follow.

"I wanted to do you the courtesy of showing you around the manor personally. I don't think a simple tour will do, you're not just a maid here now, but an honoured guest. This is your home now." I nodded silently. Why did he have to say that? He could have said anything but he had to say this was my home now. That homesick feeling crashed into me all over again.

I followed him throughout the house, only partially listening to him speak, nodding or saying words of affirmation when I needed to. Most of the tour I spent in quiet thought, thinking about my friends at the academy, and how desperately I wanted to get out of here. I wasn't ignorant of my true purpose here. This man wanted my body as well as my domestic services. He would probably show me off to his friends, have them stare, laugh, and touch. I had no power here and he knew that. Why couldn't he be powerful and kind? Was it that difficult a task for a noble? Was it a prerequisite to being powerful? To throw their weight around and trample on the dreams of their leaders? Why did people like him deserve to use magic and live well? It wasn't fair! None of this was!

I had so many other foods I wanted to show Achillo, too. He's a hard guy to read, but he looked so delighted when he tasted the stroganoff I was eating. He even asked for some bread and had to catch himself because that mask of stoicism was cracking, giving way to excitement I would have expected from a young boy. It was like he'd never eaten anything but tasteless paste all his life, stuff that would nourish him but almost tasted like dust bunnies and wood shavings.

---

On a battlefield of mud and the remnants of the dead, as las-fire and xeno energy beams streak across the grey sky, a single guardsman sits in his trench, the rain pitter-pattering against his helmet. He looks into his mess tin next to his Guardsman's Primer, half its pages torn out for toilet paper. His rations were barely enough to fill his belly, a meagre defence against his pangs of hunger. They felt like wet sand on his tongue, and tasted like disappointment.

A tear streaks down his cheek and he looks up at the sky. Were anyone to see him, he would say his tears were just the rain. A single curse rolls off of his tongue as he quietly rages against the dark, uncaring galaxy...

"Fuck you, Magnus!"

---

Oh, now I felt sad. Well, sad-er. We even made a promise that I would show him more things on his nightly patrols when he stopped by the servants quarters, and I was all too happy to agree. I really hoped he enjoyed that cake I left for him. It was the least I could have done for him for always being so nice and for helping me. It took some effort to get the meringue right, and I could only guess what kind of fruit he might have liked. Still, he liked sweet things apparently, so I hoped he liked it.

Couldn't he just show up and get me out of here? I mean, he was super strong and covered in armour, with his new sword and that spear. Surely he could storm into this place at take me back to the academy. He could stand up to nobles and he wasn't afraid of them at all, so I wished he could.

The tour of the manor had finished a while ago and I had been left alone for the evening to settle in, with my duties beginning in their official capacity tomorrow. I stared out of the window as I sat on a seat that was set into an alcove below the window. It was getting late as the sky was a vast stretch of dark blue stained with orange. The stars were beginning to come out as dim speckled that would brighten over time, and the still ghostly impressions of the two moons were waiting to become large and bright. If I stared hard enough at the horizon, I could picture the academy despite my window facing the wrong direction. Instead what I saw was an expanse of green grass and the odd tree dotted about, each catching the light of the setting sun. I sighed. At least no one had come to bother me. I was normally finished with my duties around now and chatting with the other maids, or I'd catch Marteau as he was finishing up in the kitchens and talk the evening away over some leftovers from lunch. Then that changed and Achillo had begun stopping to talk to me. I had so many questions, all of which I highly doubted I was getting answered now. One of my main questions regarding the man in gold was why he occupied my thoughts as much as he did. I wasn't stupid, I know what it felt like to crush hard on someone, and that, much to my embarrassment, was exactly what I was doing. But why? I hadn't known him long, and he didn't seem like the kind of man with time for anything outside of his duty. Could it be as shallow as his appearance? Possibly. Perhaps it was his aura of invincibility and security. Also possible. Maybe it was that for all that strength and the dynamism that he had, he did what most other nobles didn't and acted like a decent human being. There was the possibility that I just saw a very convenient way of getting out of this situation, like some girl in a fairy tail waiting for the knight in shining armour. How childish of me. Did I only think of him for his use to me because of the situation I was in?

I frowned. I was disappointed in myself for thinking like that. Instead of coming to terms with my new circumstances, I clung to flights of fancy, expecting a man who owed me nothing, who barely knew me, and was the Familiar of a noble girl to swoop in and carry me away while the bad guys lay defeated. How I desperately wanted that to happen. Sighing again, I went to go and take a bath.

---

Achillo

"You got a real serious vibe about ya, pal. Sometin' on yer mind?" Dipshit popped fractionally out of its sheath at my hip and insisted on speaking to me. I walked through one of the many hallways, my pace brisk as I was determined to follow through with my goal of finding and retrieving Siesta. Students going about their day cleared a path for me, moving to the sides of the corridors as they heard my thumping footsteps. My purple cloak billowed behind me.

"Simply put, I am going to retrieve Siesta." I said, earning a chuckle and a series of rattles from the talking sword.

"Oh shit, we rescuin' a damsel? Count me in, shiny britches, if some noble schmuck's gonna go flinging magic around, yer' gonna need me." It said. I glanced at it.

"You still have not explained what you mean by that." I replied.

"And I'd still rather just show ya. Yer' gonna love it, so let's go already!"

"You assume I'm even going to fight. If I am forced to draw a weapon, then I will consider this objective a failure. This is a... diplomatic mission of a sort." It was true that I had no intention of drawing my weapons and sought to use them as a warning at most. Besides, I wouldn't need weapons to dispatch anyone who would seek to get in my way. As much as I admired baseline humans for their grit in the face of impossible odds, part of that admiration stemmed from their inherent fragility. Still, killing or maiming anyone was out of the question. Siesta had been an asset to me, and I had wanted to follow what Nebuchad had said about learning more about mortals and understanding them. Through understanding them, I could learn what being a Custodian means to me. To many of my brothers, being a shield for the Emperor was enough. But I believed that we were more than that. Siesta had helped me begin to understand myself, mortals, and what my duties meant, and I was not about to let her be taken.

"Does the little miss know what yer doin'?" Dipshit asked.

"I will not be gone long enough for her to notice. She will not need to know." I was confident that bringing Siesta back to the academy was going to be a simple affair. There was also the very real possibility that she could outright command me to forget about any efforts to bring her back, and I would be compelled to obey. After all, I was aware that I was doing this for reasons that were entirely my own and did not serve Louise in ant way, so I would have no recourse.

"Lies and deceit make for poor foundations for a relationship. I'm sure she knows that yer maid friend's gone. Ain't it gonna be a little bit odd that she comes back after not even a day? I've got a decent read on you, pal, and I know you could go and bring her back any time you wanted. Yer master prolly knows that too." I stopped suddenly, my last footfall was heavier and louder than the others. Dipshit, for all of his yammering, was correct. Were I to execute my plan, would that mean going behind the back of the Emperor and well? The thought was unconscionable. Damn. A complication would need to speak to Louise and state my case to her, but she was asleep now, and I had chosen this time specifically to go. I sighed. Why did the sword need to talk?

The next morning, I was outside of her door as I always was when I finished my nightly patrols. I wasted no time in getting her attention, accidentally startling her as she opened the door.

"By Birmir, Achillo! Could you not do that?" Admittedly, perhaps standing right in front of the door and staring down at her was not the best idea. Still, there was no time to stand on pleasantries.

"Master, there is an issue I must bring to your attention." I said. Louise cocked her head to the side with a curious look settling across her face.

"I don't imagine you'd mention it unless it was important. Come in, I've got some time before I need to leave." She beckoned me into her room and I followed, avoiding the door frame completely this time. She sat at the wooden table, a place I'd noticed she usually say when we were discussing things.

"The maid, Siesta, has recently had her contract acquired by one Count Mott, a messenger to the throne of Tristain. He had called for her by name, and I am informed that to do so implies duties beyond simple employment. However, since I have been here, she has consistently been of aid to me in ensuring the security of the academy. I understand that-"

"Okay." Louise cut me off with a shrug.

"That's... not the answer I expected." I admitted. I had expected a flat no, to be honest. I wasn't sure why I expected that answer, but I was sure it had something to do with her being an aristocrat within the system of Tristain.

"Why? Look, I've known about Mott for a long time and I know he's a slimy weirdo. If Siesta has been taken to his estate, then I don't wanna think about what he has in mind for her. Normally I'd say there was nothing we could do, but I'll let you go as long as you promise to keep it quiet." I was quiet for several moments.

"I wasn't expecting you to be so reasonable. I had actually expected you to say no."

"I can't say I'm completely on board with raiding a noble's home, but by all accounts, Mott is only in the position he's in because he's useful. He doesn't have many friends among the aristocracy, and there have been whispering of collusion with foreign powers. A messenger like him is just powerful enough to get to important placed, but just unassuming enough to go relatively unnoticed. I'd recommend finding something to keep him quiet with." I was both impressed and somewhat surprised. I'd no idea Louise would have access to information like that, and to have the forethought to blackmail Mott into silence was something I hadn't expected from her.

"That's rather cutthroat of you, Louise." I said. She smiled.

"I'm a noble, Achillo. Before any of us learn magic we learn to play the political game. Sure, the way it's played is different from person to person, but it's one of the first things we learn about being part of the ruling class. Blackmail is one of the most basic forms of levying power over another of equal or greater status. Especially people of greater status." She said. It was the same no matter where you went it seemed. I should have expected that bureaucratic puppeteering would be something this academy of noble scions would be tutored in.

"Very well. I shall look for any evidence of involvement in foreign affairs at his manor, and request a peaceful exchange. Siesta for his silence." I said, getting a nod from Louise.

"You've given me no reason to doubt you, so get to it." She said encouragingly.

"At once." I slammed a fist against my breastplate. I decided against taking my Guardian Spear with me as its length would make it impractical for this task, instead opting to take Dipshit with me. Should everything go wrong, I would be able to pair it with my Misericordia. "I will return with Siesta soon." I turned on a heel and left with purpose in my stride.

"Still waitin' on that 'thank you Defrlinger, yer' so wise, I'd be lost without ya'." Dispshit said mockingly as I walked down the spiral stairs of the tower wing. I entered a foyer with a fountain gently trickling water.

"You were useful, I will give you that. Now be quiet until we are outside." I muttered. It still bothered me that I even found myself talking to a sword in the first place, but as long as it was actually helpful, then I could tolerate it.

"Hey, isn't that-" A girl's voice caught my attention and I looked over to see one of the girls that had been angry at Guiche the other day, with Guiche himself sat next to her. The girl had long blonde hair styled into two long, drill-like curls.

"You took him back, then? There's no accounting for taste I suppose." I was about to carry on my way before deciding against it. "Actually, perhaps you can be of assistance to me."

---

Mott

I awoke in the dead of night. Something had disturbed my much needed rest, like a presence had made itself known where none had been before. Of course, the money I spent on security practically ensured that no one could infiltrate this place without being gored with spears and savaged by hounds beforehand. I didn't pay those louts for nothing, after all. I tried to ignore the feeling of being watched, dismissing it as merely being half asleep, but the feeling persisted no matter how long I lay there waiting.

It was after waiting for a few minutes in that deathly silence and as wakefulness returned that I heard it. In the darkness in one of the corners of my room was a humming, low and constant that I had never heard before. I sat up, my back aching and eyes searching for the source of the sound.

"Do not move." My head turned frantically and my eyes widened to suck in as much light as possible so I could see who spoke. My neck had turned so fast that I felt a painful pull on one side of it, and my heart thundered and my skin tingled, almost stinging in its intensity. My eyes found the towering form of... something, standing in the corner nearest my door. It was immense, had the profile of a cloaked man, and taller than anyone I had seen before, broader too. The moonlight cast a ghostly glow on smooth plates of golden armour, and the shadows obscured much of its form. I could make put details like lighting bolts and raptors. Like angry stars in the darkness, two blazing red eyes glared at me with unknowable intend. It didn't need to command me not to move. I couldn't.

"W-w-what do y-you..." I stammered out. This thing, this giant, this golden shadow, exuded menace of a like I'd never felt before.

"You have taken something, Count Mott. I have come to take it back." The sound of that thing's voice set my teeth on edge. I felt like I was only moments away from being in the jaws of a predator, and I was a mere prey animal. It stepped forward, one heavy foot thumping uncannily quietly upon the waxed wooden floor with nary a creak of strain under what looked like considerable mass. The light and shadows revealed more of the figure, definitely a man but of immense proportions, and where its eyes were not so much eyes, but gems set into a blank face of gold, created with a spread-winged eagle.

I desperately wanted to call for my guards, grab my wand, run away, anything, but I couldn't. My voice caught in my throat. My body refused to move and my legs felt like lead.

"You have taken a young girl into your employ very recently, haven't you? By your writ, she is contracted into your service and it is legally binding. Am I correct?" Its growl of false tones grated against my ears. Standing closer to me now, it felt as if it made my body rumble with each word.

"Y-yes..." I said shakily. How did he know about Siesta? She was some nobody girl from the academy, someone without connections or power. Maybe this wasn't a man, but a golem or homunculus sent to retrieve her, or perhaps she had some noble blood and this thing was bound to her. There were many possibilities, too many for me to consider with it staring me down as it was. "Where are m-my guards?" I asked, fearing that they'd been slaughtered by this thing.

"Alive and unaware of my presence here. Though that may change depending on how this interaction plays out. Make no mistake, call for your guards or try to resist, and I will be forced to kill you and slaughter your guards in their entirety, and then take Siesta regardless." I frowned, anger welling up and somewhat abating my fear.

"What gives you the right!?" I hissed. This bastard thought he could just walk in and demand things of me, did he?

"Forces beyond you endow me with the right." Forces beyond me? Arrogant piece of shit! It didn't matter. I didn't need my guards, they were merely there to buy time, commoners that they were, they were no good otherwise. No, my true guards would be on their way any moment now. The Gallian Dust Guard were the finest slave warriors new gold could buy. Heavily armoured, unstoppable, fearless, and utterly subservient. I chanced a glance at the one signet ring on my left hand, the only ring I kept on me at all times. With a subtle use of magic, the gem in it glowed a soft corpse-fire green, signalling the guards to rush to my aid remotely.

"I've done some digging on you, Mott. Your dealings with other nations are highly treasonous, given your position. The plots you're involved in or finding would see you executed if word got out." Ice flooded my veins and my heart thundered. How? How had he found my documents? I had them hidden in the walls and beneath the floor. Enchantments sealed the boxes they were in, so how had he found them!? No. No, no, no, he had to be bluffing, surely.

My heart sank further when he produced several notes and tightly wound scrolls, each bearing my unique signature on wax seals. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! He had to die and it had to happen now! Even as I heard the thunderous thumping of heavy plate armour coming towards my room, I felt no true relief. The door burst open, broken down by my Dust Guard warriors. They were massive suits of magically animated armour housing the ashes of great soldiers of Gallia's army. They each carried the experience and enslaved wills of those soldiers, all controlled by the ring I wore. Swords, axes, spears, and halberds were but some of the weapons they carried. Ethereal pale green light glowed from their visor slits as they silently and without hesitation began attacking the golden intruder.

---

Achillo

Dipshit had proven his worth to a degree. I had located the documents that Mott had hidden using the sensorium inside my helmet, sending out pulses that detected hollow spaces in the walls and floor of the manor. But it was Dipshit's ability to dispel magic that had allowed me to open the lockboxes they were stored in. I had intended to use the documents within to blackmail the Count, but as his strange guardians had come to kill me, it became clear that he had other ideas.

They were unlike anything I'd seen so far, being far larger than a normal human, encased in heavy armoured plates and completely silent. They were similar in size to Astartes, though they were definitely not as tall or broad. The glow emanating from their visor slits smacked of some kind of sorcery. I drew Dipshit, taking three heads with a single blade stroke. Before the fourth had entered the room my blade was moving to cut it down. I had to admit, Dipshit had a fantastic cutting edge.

A blade caught my cloak and I turned, the blade of Dispshit cleaving through the torso armour of one of the large guards. Dust poured free, pooling on the ground and the ghostly light in its helmet and then its chest guttered out. The empty armour clattered to the ground. My sight settled on three headless suits of armour, each moving rapidly as they were unrestrained by muscles and flesh. More were coming, and fighting in such a confined space was a bad idea. I didn't think that these strange warriors could pierce even the flex-joints of my armour with their weapons, but getting overwhelmed when magic was at play did not bode well. I pulled my Misericordia from its sheath and held it in a reverse grip. I was confident that I could overcome each of these foes with my superior speed and strength, but a Custodian always treated a battle against whatever he was fighting as a learning experience.

Parry, parry, parry, riposte, cut. Down. The headless wielding a hefty Spear showed me everything in three strikes. Each was parried as I took in its movements, learning tells and memorizing them to form patterns of pre-action movement. Whatever these things were, they had some individuality to them, as no two of them moved exactly the same. An axe blade came fast and fierce, taking the time that my blade was withdrawing from the empty shell of its comrade to strike at my head. I hooked my Misericordia under the shaft and pulled, pulling the weapon from grasping fingers and sending it spinning away to become lodged in the wall above Mott's head.

Dipshit crashed down and split the torso plate from neck line to belly, sending what I then identified as ash up in a plume of dead matter. Three kills in two mortal heartbeats.

"Hell yeah!" Dipshit cackled gleefully as the strange metal of his blade-body bisected the sword wielding headless guardian. I spared a millisecond glance at where Mott was, seeing him gone and the window open. Without hesitation, I charged, knowing the guardians would follow and shouldered my way through the second storey wall like a Vindicator battle tank. The wall exploded put in a shower of wood and masonry. Dust and plaster particulates followed me like and enshrouding cloud form before I slammed to the ground. One of the large armoured things was already following, its descent was rapid with its arms raised and poised to bring a large greatsword down upon me. The black steel of its shell and weapon reflected the moonlight in a mirror polish.

I rolled forward, turned, and lunged. I swung Dispshit in a vicious horizontal arc, parting the warrior at the waist, its featureless helm glaring green bale-light at me in silent defiance. Its helm was crushed flat under my foot. This mission had failed. I would recover Siesta, that was certain, but now there would certainly be ramifications for tonight's events. However, I could spare Louise any backlash at least from the throne by presenting the documents I uncovered to the royal court. Perhaps that would give any would-be foreign agents pause.

Mortal guards now came with weapons clutched in ready hands. They laid eyes on me and suddenly halted, taken aback by my presence. Before I could address them, several more of the empty shells came from the hole I had left in the manor. Fluted suits of steel landed heavily and hefted their weapons. Three of them held great rectangular shields and ran past me while another three engaged me. A heavy crow's beak swung for my ribs, while a halberd set about attempting to crush my face plate with its hammer head. A third weapon, a pair of twin short spears lunged out at my chest.

Parry, evade, parry, cut. The spear wilder's head was separated from its body, and before its helm could hit the ground, both of its arms were parted from its body. The other two, seeming so slow now, offered little else for me. I went on the offensive. An overhead strike split through shaft and body in one singular motion as the halberd wielder feebly tried to block my attack. It fell in two vertical halves, ghost light and dust spilling and dissipating.

"Bugger me, s'that a giant banana?"

"Looks like one innit?"

"Hang on, where the bloody hell did you see a banana?"

What in the name of the Throne were they talking about? More mortals were gathering and the guards who had stopped upon seeing me did nothing to corral them back. Then the servant staff came to see the commotion, and with them...

"Achillo?" Siesta gasped, eyes wide and a look I did not recognise upon her face. Happy? No, she was but it was something more than that. The relief was unmistakable as I'd seen on countless guardsmen before. I had no time to dwell on it as the last of the armoured things fighting me swung the crow's beak in its hands, aiming the wickedly sharp point for the flex-joint under my left arm. The entire time I'd been fighting I'd felt so much looser and quicker to react than I'd ever been. The reason for this still evaded me, but I had some suspicion it was tied with the appearance of those runes on my left hand. I deflected the blow with my Misericordia and punched Dipshit through the chest plate, twisted, and wrenched it up and through the helmet. Like its fellows, it collapsed bonelessly into a clattering heap of inert steel.

Still, I had to pursue Mott. Siesta was safe for the moment as no one seemed interested in stopping me from getting to her, but he still needed to taken to task for his seditious actions. I passed the crowd of guards and servants, chasing after the large armoured figures and the portly noble they surrounded. Behind me I could here more clanking of armour as more of them poured from the hole in wall. As I pursued Mott, they pursued me. I closed the distance and two large shields came up to block my path. Kicking out, one shield buckled in the middle and mangled one of the hollow arms of Mott's protector and sent it sprawling. It still lashed out with a heavy swing of its large maul, aiming to smash my chest with it. Mott screamed as the armoured thing slid on the grass past him and he stumbled, tripping on his own feet. It quickly stood, the steel of one arm bent and dangling uselsessly and its maul ready in its good hand.

"This is utter shit! How are you killing my Dust Guard!? They're supposed to be unstoppable!" Mott cried out. Seeing his rather expensive protectors being eliminated with such ease seemed to frustrate him greatly. He had acquired these as part of a protection deal with the Gallian merchants guild, though I was not sure on what a Dust Guard was until now. Slave automatons tasked solely to whoever controlled them. There was far too much of that in the Imperium already. I suddenly felt like I had thought something incredibly ironic, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Sidestepping the wild maul swing, I cut yet another Dust Guard in half. This was tiresome now. No challenge. They were large and presumably didn't tire, but they were only marginally faster than unaugmented humans, and by extension of no concern to a Custodian. Now they were just a buffer between me and my target. The last of them still had its Shield up with Mott cowering behind it. Dipshit swept through the shield and the waist of the Dust Guard, leaving it in to halves like so many of its fellows. Mott turned his horrified gaze from the broken forms of his guardians to me as I calmly approached him, Dipshit and my Misericordia resting in their sheaths.

Seeing his guardians cut down and his mortal guards in no rush to come to his aid, he turned to grovelling. He knelt and pressed his forehead to the ground.

"Please, you win! You can take Siesta, just please leave this place!" He tried to reach out to place a hand to my boot, but the tip of Dipshit driving into the ground just in front of his face dissuaded him. His hand shot back with a whimper.

"You have other crimes you must answer for, Mott." I looked over to the gathering of mortals. "Which one of you is in charge of security?" Several guards exchanged glances before a moustached man wearing a breastplate and a plumed helmet stepped forward.

"That would be me, sir." I beckoned him forward and he obeyed. Siesta watched with a confused expression, her hands tucked into the folds of her night gown. He steeled himself and hesitantly came to a halt beside me in front of the Count. I handed him the documents and waited as he opened and read them. His face changed from confused, to shocked, to livid all in the space of a minute.

"What's this? Selling information to Germania? Giving corpses to Gallia? Illegal contraband imports from Romalia? Funding assassination efforts across Halkeginia!? Traitorous snake! Men, clap him in irons and have him ready for transport to the capital. This treacherous worm must stand trial." The captain looked scornfully at Mott. "I should execute you myself."

The guard captain and several of his men pleaded iron shackles around Mott's wrists and marched him back inside the house. The servant staff watched me with uncertainty. I'd left a mess of empty steel carcasses across the yard, large clumps of grass had been torn up where I had ran. I realised the problem when I more carefully scrutinised their faces. I'd just had their employer arrested for treason and espionage. I had just lost them their income.

"So you're the one she was talking about. Achillo, right?" An older woman approached me followed by Siesta who was stuttering and trying to stop the woman from speaking. "Oh quiet down girl. When you started hammering about some big golden sweetheart, I just had to see it for myself."

"I didn't say that! Really, I didn't!" Siesta's face flushed red. Was she sick?

"I believe you said 'he seems scary at first, but he's really just a big sweetheart', am I wrong?" The older woman grinned, clearly enjoying teasing the younger girl. "But to see that you actually exist, well, the first part of that holds true." Her eyes traced over my armour, most likely trying to discern the meaning of the iconography etched into my auramite. She met my eyes. There was no hesitation in this woman, her weathered features were relaxed despite my presence and the mayhem that had followed. I was rather impressed.

"So, you came all this way to bring her back? Regular knight in shining armour, aren't you?" She grinned at Siesta. "Hmph, lucky girl."

"Really, I had no idea he'd be here, I just thought I'd never see him again, that's all!" She was trying and failing to regain her composure. "But Achillo, what are you doing here? You didn't come here just for me did you?"

"That was my goal. I did not accomplish it how I'd have preferred, but that matters little now." I said. "I had intended to blackmail him into your release, but his personal guard made that impossible. Now I have cost everyone here their livelihoods. I am... not sure how to help with that." The older woman chuckled.

"You needn't worry about that. Since we're in the employ of a servant of the throne, the court will reassign us elsewhere in the kingdom, so you've done no permanent damage." She said. That was a weight off of my shoulders. "Well, Siesta, it was brief but it has been a pleasure. The sooner we move on, the better. And you hang onto him, girl. Never know when you'll find another." Before Siesta could splutter a reply, the woman was already walking away, her shoulders shaking with amusement.

"Take care, Helen." She muttered before turning her gaze to me. She tried to meet my eyes but looked at the ground immediately. Her behaviour was confusing me to say the least.

"Are you well?"

"O-oh, yes, I'm fine. I just... didn't think you'd actually come." She said with her voice barely above a whisper.

"You made a promise to me did you not? For you to leave without fulfilling that promise would be a dereliction of duty." I said, injecting what mirth I could. It worked as she smiled and giggled.

"You're right, I did promise you that I would show you a load of new foods. What did you want to try next?"

"Whatever you think I would like." I had no idea what foods existed besides what I already knew, so I decided to leave it to her. "You should grab your things. We're going back to the academy."

"Right! I'll be just a minute." She ran to get her belongings and returned after a couple of minutes. "Um, are we walking back?" She asked once she returned, dressed in some casual clothes. Ah, I hadn't thought about that. As a Custodian, I was used to specialised transportation when I needed it. Other than that, I walked everywhere I needed to go, and ran when necessary. I wasn't about to ride a horse. Siesta also had little in the way of possessions with only a couple of suit cases containing her clothes and personal effects. Walking shouldn't have been a problem.

"It will be a ten mile walk, a couple of hours at a steady pace. Come, we're done here." I took a step before halting, noticing that Siesta had taken hold of my cloak and was hiding her face. " What's wrong?"

"Well, well, well, shiny britches. Looks like the little missy wants to ask a question." Dipshit said, popping out from his sheath. I decided finally that the irritating sword at least deserved to be referred to more than just 'it'.

"Could you... um... c-carry me. Please?" She said timidly. She didn't look hurt, and I'm certain she would have said something. My helmet sensorium took thermal images, finding no abnormal heat spots indicative of swelling or lacerations. The only abnormal heat spot was her entire head, which burned bright white on the thermals. Perhaps she was really sick. Physical exertion would very likely exacerbate her condition, and so carrying her would alleviate her.

"I see. Very well then." I swept her up in one arm and held her gently to my chest. She made a strange squeaking sound when I did so, perhaps startled at her rapid ascent several feet in the air. She didn't struggle, instead settled in my grip, though she still hid her face from me.

"Would ya' look at that. Ya' made the girl's night. Real fairy tale ending, eh?" Dipshit chuckled.

"Stop talking you dumb sword." Siesta mumbled, only making the sword chuckle more. I placed a hand on the pommel of Dipshit and pushed him back into the sheath, rendering him quiet. "Thanks... wait, your sword talks?"

"It's complicated." I replied and began walking, stepping foot past the threshold of the estate and began on the path back to the academy. I felt her relax further and she sighed. We walked in silence for several minutes, taking in the clear night sky as the two moons bathed the rolling meadows in pale light, so much so that even mortals wouldn't need torches to lanterns to see. The breeze was gentle and warm.

"Your armour's really warm." She said, placing a palm against the raptor and lighting bolts on my chest plate.

"It is powered. The power that allows me to use my armour produces a lot of heat." I said, though I wasn't sure how much sense that would make to her.

"It feels nice. I'm still trying to believe you actually came for me. I thought that I'd... I'd be stuck there... with him." Her voice quivered and she looked into the lenses of my helm with moistening eyes. "I thought I'd never see my friends at the academy. I thought I'd just be a toy for that aristocrat. I was praying to Birmir all day that you'd come and save me from that, and here you are!" Siesta rested her forehead against my breastplate, openly weeping now and making me incredibly uncomfortable. It was very rarely that I dealt with this kind of reaction. Not even many of the children I'd seen in active warzones I'd been in cried.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really happy, that's all." She laughed gently through her tears. So she was...happy? Then why cry? It made no sense. Still, it was something new I had learned about mortals, as confusing as it was. Another period of silence passed.

"Did you find the cake I left for you?"

"Yes." I replied perhaps a little too quickly with my calm somewhat compromised. I'd hardly recognised the tonal change in my voice, but I sounded... excited maybe? "It was delicious."

"I'm glad. I spent a couple of hours before I had to leave making it for you since you said you liked sweet things." She said with a smile.

"I know nothing of cooking, but I believe you did an excellent job." I said.

"It was nothing, really. What I want to talk about is what you did back there. You're so fast that I barely saw you. You were a blur, and those things protecting Mott... one moment they were whole, and the next they were in pieces. They didn't stand a chance. It was honestly quite frightening." Siesta said in wonder. It was one thing to see an Astartes in motion and accounts documenting such sights were plentiful. To see a Custodian in motion and fighting was something else entirely.

"Every one of my brothers can move and fight at such speeds, most of them being far more proficient than I." Her eyes shot wide when I said that.

"Really!? All of you? Are you the youngest, then?" She asked, which was rather perceptive of her.

"One of the youngest. We can live for many years, and we gain experience and knowledge for every one of those years. A Custodian at one hundred years and that same Custodian at one thousand years are two very different warriors. The fundamentals remain the same, but the evolution of techniques and the refinement of those techniques creates a vast gulf in ability and prowess."

"Then how old are you?" she asked, a hint of caution in her voice.

"I am one hundred and forty three years old. To demonstrate my point, my brother Nebuchad is only a decade older than I am, yet I have never once bested him in the practice cages. Though I would be remiss if I didn't say that Nebuchad always had an affinity for combat that few others can match." He would be a Companion one day. He would stand at the Emperor's side, I believed that with my entire being.

"Oh. Wow. I... hadn't expected that." Siesta said hesitantly.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing. Nothing at all." She shook her head and beamed at me. Her smile, I found, was somewhat infections. Despite being a master of controlling my facial expressions as all Custodians were, I couldn't help but let some of that restraint slip and felt the corners of my lips curve upward ever so slightly. My helmet hid that from her.

We soon found the academy looming over the horizon, and very quickly found ourselves at the precipice of the facility. We stepped through the main gateway and came to a stop outside the servants quarters.

"Home..." Siesta breathed. She took in the sight of the white stones of the various towers and the walls like it had been years since her last visit.

"Will you be alright now?" I asked, breaking her from her trance. She nodded, looking uncertain as she looked from me and to the ground.

"Yes, I'll be fine now. More than fine actually. Thank you." Once again, that red hue overtook her cheeks. I knelt and let her down and she turned to me. "Achillo, before we part ways..." She stepped close and planted her lips against the right cheek of my face plate before quickly turning and rushing towards the servants quarters. "Goodnight!"

With her out of sight I stood and paused in contemplative silence before Dipshit once again popped free of his sheath. "I'm proud of ya' boyo. Real lady killer, settin' a young maiden's heart all aflutter like that."

"Well that was odd. Back to my duties." Getting a cackle from Dipshit before sheathing him once again, I checked Louise's hallway and room briefly before I patrolled the premises on my usual route for the rest of the night.

---

That's another done. Took a bit longer than I would have liked. Right, so some of the things I was going for in the chapter was Mott double dealing everywhere, which will tie in to events further down the line. I also wanted to establish that Gallia does some real shady shit, mainly including necromancy, hence the Dust Guard and the corpses that Mott is sending their way. It'll lead to some interesting encounters for Achillo and the others once they go to Gallia. Until next time, peace.

Edit: The Dust Guard are essentially bargain bin Rubric Marines, but it'll play into things later on. Have you ever wondered what would happen if a Custodian fought a Necrosphinx or something like that? I think it would be pretty cool.

Notice: I should clarify that I type up all of my chapters on my phone, so a lot of the spelling errors and grammatical errors are due to the words I intend to use being auto-corrected and I fail to notice until I reread or I'm notified.