Alistair was trained for many things; Fighting, horse riding, battle tactics, logistics, weapon and armor maintenance, foraging, tracking, cooking; hell, even farming. Give him a blade and he'll kill a demon with it in several dozen ways. Take it away and he'll find a rock to bludgeon it instead. Give him nothing? He would use his bare hands.
But a woman's lips latching onto his face?
He could only stare wide-eyed, completely caught off guard by the feeling of supple lips mashing into his own. He felt Celestine drape her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down even further so that she had more access of him. She gasped for air, pausing for only a moment before taking his lips again greedily. Hungrily. Her eyes were closed in pure bliss.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Two voices furiously shrieked.
Alistair felt someone attempt to wrench him from Celestine's embrace, but the High Elf merely followed; holding tightly onto his frame. Another moment passed before he felt Celestine pulled away from him His lips were finally free from her assault and his vision no longer obscured by his queen's flushed visage. He saw Olga scowling at his liege, whom she threatened to crush in her arms. He glanced behind him, finding Chloe glaring at the High Elf with a look that was some combination of jealousy and anger.
"Have you gone mad, Celestine!?" Olga growled, her caramel cheeks darkening with an angry blush. "What possessed you to molest our dear knight!?"
Half-lidded emerald eyes blinked once, then twice, clearing that nostalgic haze that fogged them as Celestine became lucid once more. Her eyes widened in horror, the lustful blush that tinted her cheeks evolving to consume her entire face. She buried her face in her hands, her embarrassment too much to bear.
Celestine peeked out from between her fingers, looking at Alistair but unable to match his gaze. "A-Alistair, p-please forgive me! I-I don't know what came over me, I… It's just that… You look so much like Alberich, and…"
The poor thing seemed like she just wanted to curl up in a corner and die.
Alistair, still somewhat befuddled, tried to calm the High Elf. "That was… unexpected, but not unwelcomed."
Her hands lowered just the slightest bit. "I-Is that so?"
"It is," He nodded.
Olga scowled. "I would imagine it would be more welcome if you didn't think of another man while kissing him. Honestly, I even warned you that he was Alberich's spitting image and you still tossed yourself at him."
"… You both really loved him, didn't you?" It was less of a question and more a statement of fact.
Both elves nodded sadly, Olga loosening her grip on Celestine into a more comfortable hug.
"More than you can ever know." They said in unison.
"It wasn't fair," Celestine whispered. "He matured so fast. We still had the bodies of little girls by the time he was thirty. By the time we reached the cusp of womanhood, Alberich was already a century old. A miracle by human standards."
Olga hummed forlornly. "I don't know what was worse; that we had outlived him so easily, or that we couldn't be with him as we wanted."
"Milady…" Chloe uttered softly behind him, her heart going out to her liege.
Alistair's expression became unreadable, almost as if he still had his helmet on. He stepped away from Chloe's arms—to the woman's slight chagrin—and placed his helm and weapon on the table
"My liege… Celestine. My reports after Olga's surrender were not entirely truthful. There was one piece of information I've withheld from you."
Olga's eyes widened slightly, knowing exactly what the knight was about to unveil. "Alistair, I don't think that is wise."
He met her with an impassive stare. "She deserves to know."
"It will cause more problems than it will solve." She warned.
"I am prepared to deal with them." He responded instantly.
She paused, looking into the knight's determined gaze. "You will tell her regardless of my protests, won't you?"
"Yes." He stated decisively.
Celestine's head appeared to be on a swivel as she followed the conversation ' between the two in confusion. "What is going on? What have you two been keeping secret from me?"
Olga sighed in defeat, squeezing the blonde in her arms slightly. "So be it." She nodded at Alistair, the man returning it as his eyes met Celestine's.
"I have my ancestors' memories."
"What?" High Elf looked dumbfounded for a moment, as if unable to process the meaning of his words.
"Aberich, Alaric, Albion: I have all of their memories.
"S-Surely you jest…"
"He speaks the truth, sister." Olga whispered into her ear. "He knows things that only his forefathers can know, can cast magic only they could cast."
"N-No," Celestine denied, her befuddled expression turning to one of frustration as she squirmed out of Olga's embrace. "You are teasing me again. Stop it, it is no longer funny."
Alistair looked towards the memory-projecting mirror that still hovered above the table. He genuflected before the Elven royals.
"I can prove my honesty again," He said, grasping his queen's hand and placing it against his brow. "Take my memories-no, Alberich's memories, and project them for your own eyes to see."
Celestine hesitated, clenching her free hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her emerald irises smoldered as she looked down at the visage of the kneeling knight, debating internally whether or not she should entertain such a possibility.
'But… What do I have to lose?' She thought.
Her curiosity won out in the end, Celestine's hand glowing once more as she extracted the memories from Alistair's mind. She placed them against the mirror, watching with bated breath as images began to play across the glass once more.
-]|[-
Alberich stood before the mirror, dressed to the nines in preparation for his wedding. He wore a crimson red doublet with golden embroidery over a white dress shirt. On his left shoulder was a black capelet with a red inner-lining, his house's sigil emblazoned on the exterior: A golden eagle.
His silver hair was cut short with a mid-fade and his face was clean-shaven. His reflection's crimson eyes stared back at him, resigned to his fate. Behind him, a small elven girl with braided blonde hair sat upon his bed. Her wide green eyes were focused on his back with a strained smile.
"I-I still can't believe you're getting married," She stammered, "You're so young!"
Alberich didn't turn to face her, instead opting to look at her reflection. "I'm twenty-five, Celestine. This is the normal age for humans to be married."
"R-Right, I know that. Of course, I know that. But, it's still so strange! I-I hadn't thought you'd marry for at least another ten, no, twenty years!"
"This is necessary. Allying with the Astorans will bring great prosperity to our kingdom, as well was serving as a large step forward in our relations with the other human nations."
"I know, but…" She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, "But surely there must be another way to secure an alliance!"
"Lord Gwyn had made it clear that it would an alliance by marriage, or none at all. He is desperate to continue his lineage: His only son forsook his heritage, Princess Gwyndolin is barren, and Princess Gwynevere has disappeared. Princess Filianore is the only hope he has, and she has taken a liking to me."
"She likes you only because of your fame and prestige!" Celestine shrieked, unable to contain herself any longer. "She doesn't know you like I do! She cares only for the privilege of marrying Alberich the legend, not Alberich the kind, caring boy who always protected and watched over me! That harlot should just find some two-bit knight that boasts of his meagre renown and spread her legs for him!"
The first Aquila sent her a sideways glare, scolding her silently with his intense gaze. Celestine gritted her teeth, puffing out her cheeks indignantly as she tried to meet his stare. She was defiant for all of a moment before deflating under his gaze. Tears welled in her eyes as she began to hiccup and sob.
"I don't want to lose you to her…"
Alberich sighed, stepping away from the mirror and taking a seat beside his childhood friend's right side. The bed creaked slightly under his weight, depressing the mattress so that Celestine tilted into his side. His cape billowed as he pushed it around to cover the elven girl. He placed at hand on her head, patting and stroking it gently.
Celestine buried her head into his side, wetting his garments with her tears. She wrapped her small arms around him, tightly squeezing him as if afraid that he'll disappear the moment her grip laxed.
"She's going to take you from me." She hiccupped.
"She will not." He assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're lying. You're going to abandon us to live with your own kind, your own people."
"You are my people: You, Father, Mother, Olga; I will never abandon any of you. Didn't I make a promise?" He held his pinky out to her, "That I would forever stand at your side until my dying breath?"
She sniffled, looking at his outstretched finger with blurry eyes. "You made that promise when we were six years old. I'm surprised you remembered."
"It must seem like yesterday to you."
"Mm hmm," Celestine hummed, taking his hand into both of hers and pulling it close. "I remember when our hands were the same size. They fit so perfectly together, especially when our fingers entwined. But now… now I can fit both of my hands into one of yours with room to spare." She stared up at him, wondering where the time had gone. "You got so big, so fast."
"I'm still the same Alberich you used to order around. I just got a bit taller to help you raid the kitchen for sweets."
His joke made her giggle, even as her breath still hitched occasionally. "Alberich, I… I…"
"Yes, Celestine," Crimson eyes looked down on her fondly. "What is it?"
She paused, choking on her words and closing her eyes, her face still wet with tears.
"I will wish you the best." She finally gasped out.
Alberich smiled sadly, knowing that they were not the words she wanted to say. "Thank you, sister."
"If she treats you badly, or makes you sad in any way…"
"She won't. Filianore is not that kind of person, I promise."
There was a knock on the door. "Sir Alberich," A servant's voice called out, "It is time."
He grunted audibly, rising from the bed. His half-cape hid his tear-soaked side from view. He looked back at Celestine, a small smile on his face.
"Won't you accompany me? I would very much like to be seen off by my best friend."
Celestine's sullen figure took a deep breath. "Give me a moment to clean myself up, Alberich. I'll be there soon." She gave him a wet smile. "I wouldn't want you to be late for your own wedding!"
"Mmh." He hummed, quietly exiting the room with a small click of the door. "Then, I'll see you soon."
The door closed behind him, hiding Celestine from sight. He lingered for a moment, tears welling in his eyes as he heard the girl's quiet sobs continue, muffled by the heavy wooden door. Wiping away his tears, he trudged on to wait for his betrothed.
"I'm sorry, Celestine."
-]|[-
As the last of the memory faded away, so did Celestine's ability to stand. She would have collapsed to her knees had Alistair not caught her in his arms. She wept uncontrollably over his shoulder, wrapping her knight up tightly in her arms.
Chloe quickly pulled out a chair so Alistair could lower the High Elf down. Even after being sat down, Celestine's hold over Alistair wouldn't release, forcing the knight to his knees as his head was held against her bosom. The man turned his head to the side so as to not suffocate in her ample cleavage. With his ear pressed against her chest, he could hear the erratic beating of her heart and felt her tears fall onto his back.
"You… You really do have…" She tried to speak but kept choking on her words, so she settled for just holding Alistair close until she calmed down.
Everyone sat there in semi-silence, the only sound being Celestine's shaky breaths. Olga stared at her friend with a sympathetic look, a small stream of tears also flowing down her face. Chloe could only stand around awkwardly, not knowing how to help.
After a few minutes, Celestine's breathing normalized. Her eyes, puffy and red, had finally stopped shedding tears. She released her hold on Alistair to wipe at her face, allowing the knight to pull away.
"I'm sorry for doubting you, my knight. Olga." She apologized. "I cannot express how glad I am that you decided to tell me."
"Will you be all right, Celestine?" Olga asked worriedly.
The High Elf nodded. "I just need some rest. This… revelation has exhausted me quite a bit." She stood from her seat. "Come, I will show you to your quarters before I retire for the evening."
They followed Celestine out of the room, Alistair bringing up the rear after grabbing his gear. As they stepped into the hall, the pair of guards saluted Celestine. The setting sun bathed the corridor in orange light.
Celestine glanced back her knight, appraising his battered look with a frown. "We'll need to get you fitted for another set of armor, Alistair."
Giving himself a quick once-over, he couldn't help but agree; grunting in his usual way. Every single piece of his defensive gear was damaged beyond repair. Even his arming doublet was severely damaged: The padded cloth was torn and ripped in various places after snagging on dented plate, and the chainmail gusset was broken in several places.
"Perhaps we should consider upgrading your weapon arsenal as well?" She continued.
He turned his gaze towards his weapons. Though they were in serviceable shape, he wouldn't say no to more refined arms. "That would be much appreciated."
"Then we shall visit the royal armory tomorrow."
"Celestine," Olga called, drawing the High Elf's attention, "There was one more thing that we've kept hidden. I felt it prudent to withhold the information from the rest of your council, and Alistair was considerate enough to keep my secret as well."
"Oh? And what is it?"
Olga, Chloe, and Alistair quickly glanced at their surroundings. Nobody was in sight, and Elven hearing did not detect anyone nearby. Certain of their privacy, Olga leaned in close to whisper into Celestine's ear.
"My magic is failing me," She told her. "It has been for quite some time now, even before I lost the Black Citadel. I can barely cast even the simplest of spells as I currently am."
"Oh dear," Celestine said worriedly. "Have you any idea what may be causing it?"
"Only a smidgeon. Part of the reason why I agreed to come here was because I was hoping you could help cure whatever ails me."
"Of course! Tomorrow, after Alistair's rearmament and outfitting, we'll run a few tests and- oh, we're here."
They stopped in front of one of the many suites in the residential area of the White Citadel. Alistair recognized the door to the Aquila suite, just across the hall.
"This shall be your room. I'm afraid you'll have to share, since all the other guest rooms are filled."
"That's perfectly fine." Olga said. "I'd rather have Chloe close by anyhow."
Chloe bowed slightly. "I shall of course take the floor, Your Highness."
"You may bunk with me, if you wish." Alistair offered. "My bed is large enough to comfortably fit two people."
His proposition caused the Dark Elves to blush. The knight's presence had been rather comforting over the last week and a half, and the thought of sharing his bed appealed greatly to them.
"O-Oh, uh… that's, rather kind of you. I'd be delighted-"
"Actually Chloe, why don't you take the room to yourself? Consider it a reward for your diligence. You can rest easy knowing that I'll have Alistair guarding me."
Chloe's face fell at Olga's words. "But, my liege-"
"It is fine, no? Unless you doubt Alistair's ability to protect me?"
"I don't, but I-"
"Then you would rather I sleep alone, unguarded?"
"Never!"
"Wonderful! I'm glad we could come to an understanding."
"Actually," Celestine interjected, saving Chloe from further harassment. "Every guest suite is given two twin-sized beds. There won't be a need to share one. Additionally, there are privacy wards that will keep any would-be intruder at bay. You can sleep peacefully knowing that fact."
"I see…" Alistair said. "Never mind then."
Olga pouted, throwing Celestine a dirty look. The High Elf smiled tiredly back at her, quietly reveling in the small victory against her friend.
"Take this opportunity to rest." Celestine said. "I fear that there will not be much time for it in the future, and you all surely need some time to unwind after your recent ordeal."
Olga nodded. "There is still much that we must discuss, but I shall save it for tomorrow, when we are both fully rested."
"Mmh," Celestine hummed, giving Olga a quick hug. "Then, I shall see you all tomorrow."
After bidding the High Elf farewell, the Dark Elves turned their attention to the knight once more.
"What are your plans for the rest of the evening, Alistair?" Chloe asked.
He thought for a moment. "Bathe, then eat a proper meal, then sleep. Most likely in that order."
"Could we perhaps join you then?" Olga requested.
"You want to bathe with me?"
Chloe blushed but Olga merely smiled mischievously. "Well, if you're offering~?" She teased.
"Very well," Alistair said nonchalantly, catching both women off guard. He opened the door of his own room, stepping inside to and glancing at them from over his shoulder. "Allow me to take my armor off, then I'll show you to the baths. I'd suggest storing your weapons in your room before we leave."
His door closed, leaving the Dark Elves with mouths slightly agape.
'Does he… Did he just…? Surely he was joking as well?' They thought, shaking their heads with nervous smiles. 'Of course, he is. He'll take us to the women's bath, then go to the men's to take his own.'
Their minds cleared, the Dark Elves entered their room, heeding Alistair's advice. In the time it took them to stow away their weapons and move back outside, Alistair was already waiting for them; dressed in a plain beige tunic in lieu of his usual garb. He still wore his black pants, but they were now stripped of the metal plates and guards that reinforced it.
Nodding at them, he gestured for the Dark Elves to follow him. They fell into position behind him, walking at a brisk but comfortable pace to match his naturally long strides. They garnered a few looks from a pair of stray servant girls who gossiped obviously when they thought the party out of earshot.
"Are those… Dark Elves?"
"Haven't you heard? Lady Celestine's new knight captured them and brought them in today."
"I can't believe they're blessed with such beauty."
"They're ugly on the inside though. Evil, dastardly creatures: Nothing like the High Elves."
"Is that him leading them? The knight who captured them, I mean."
"No, surely not. I've seen him before, and the man never takes off his armor. It's probably his squire or a new servant."
"He's rather handsome though, isn't he?"
"Mmh, yes. Yes, he is. I might pay him a visit later~!"
Olga and Chloe visibly rolled their eyes, silently scoffing at the servants' idle gossip. Alistair, of course, paid them no mind; being entirely focused on reaching his destination.
-]|[-
They arrived at the baths soon enough.
An attendant had awaited them by the entrance. A pretty thing with brown hair and pale skin, the tips of her ears were only slightly pointed; indicative of a mixed elven heritage.
She bowed lowly to them. "Good evening Sir Alistair, Lady Olga, Miss Chloe. Please, do come in."
The attendant ushered them into the bathing area. It was a spacious room, able to easily fit their small party. White ceramic tile covered the walls and floor, etched with runes that kept the room clean and the water pure. Aqueducts fed water into the room, creating artificial waterfalls that cleansed the dirt from the body and into the drains. At the center of the room was the main bath, magically heated to the perfect temperature for relaxation.
Olga sighed in relief as the misty air filled her senses. She longed for a proper bath ever since her Black Citadel fell to the Black Dogs. Chloe shared her liege's sentiments, smiling softly as she basked in the room's comfortable warmth.
The attendant drew their attention, gesturing to a series of basins to the side of the room. "You may place your soiled garments into these basins. They are enchanted to purify your clothing of dirt and grime, bringing them to pristine condition once more."
"I see…" Alistair said, intrigued by the utilitarian magic. Such a thing would have certain come in handy during his early adventures: He remembered quite a few times where he was stranded with no way to clean his clothing.
Suffice to say, it stank; both literally and metaphorically.
Olga glanced around, noticing something quite off about the room. "How are the women and men separated?"
The attendant looked confused. "Separate? Your Grace, this is Queen Celestine's personal bathing room. These facilities were not made with sex-segregation in mind."
Chloe's jaw dropped, appalled by the servant's words. She turned to Alistair with a flustered expression. "Did you get us lost? Why did you take us to the royal bath!?"
Alistair was nonplussed, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Celestine gave me permission to use these facilities the night I was knighted. I didn't get a chance to use it then, however."
With that, Alistair began to undress, much to the Dark Elves' surprise. His tunic was swiftly taken off, unveiling his lean, muscular torso. Pale skin was pulled taught over dense muscle, rippling with every movement he made. Well-developed pectoral muscles; toned, six-pack abs; and a perfect v-cut made for an enticing sight.
However, what drew his companions' eyes were not his wonderfully sculpted muscles, but his numerous scars.
Scar tissue covered the entirety of his body, both small and large. His body told a macabre tale of the pain and tribulations Alistair had gone through: Circular marks from puncture wounds; long, grey lines from blades biting into his flesh; and faded burns from acid and fire all looked agonizing beyond belief.
It was only when Alistair began to unbuckle his pants that the Dark Elves were stirred from their fixation. Chloe hastily lunged at Alistair, stopping him from undressing further.
"W-What are you doing!?" She hissed, her fingers clenching tightly around his.
Alistair quirked a brow. "Undressing. Am I not supposed to be naked while I bathe?"
"You are," the attendant said helpfully, earning Chloe's ire.
"That's not the point! Why are you getting naked around a bunch of women!?"
"I thought we were going to bathe together?"
"YOU WERE SERIOUS!?" She shrieked in embarrassment.
Olga placed a hand on Chloe's shoulder, locking eyes with the blonde for a brief moment before Chloe took a deep breath; calming slightly and releasing Alistair. The ravenette turned to the attendant with a neutral expression.
"You are dismissed," She told her, "We will call you if we have need of anything."
With a final bow, the attendant left the room. As soon as the servant was out of sight, Olga gave a tired sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I should have known you'd take my teasing seriously. Your forefathers were just the same as you."
"I see…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"… Are we still going to bathe together?"
"Certainly."
"YOUR HIGHNESS!?"
Olga calmly turned to her subordinate. "Come now Chloe, don't be so dramatic. It's just a bath."
"A bath with a man!"
"No, a bath with a friend. It's completely different." Olga began to strip off her garments, much to Chloe's horror. Olga paid no mind to her servant's distress, nonchalantly peeling away her outfit piece by piece and slowly revealing more of her flawless caramel skin. Her top fell to the floor, her large bust bouncing slightly as it was released from its restraints.
Sighing in relief, she continued, "If you are not comfortable with this arrangement, you can wait until after we're finished to bathe yourself. I know you have some reservations about showing yourself to human men. I won't force you to join us."
Chloe froze for a moment, her eyes glazing over briefly before she shook her head. She would not let phantoms prevent her from doing her duty. "I am your servant, Your Majesty. My personal grievances are nothing before my duty to you."
With that, the blonde also began to undress. Not unlike Alistair, Chloe also bore a multitude of scars; though they were not nearly as numerous. She undid her ponytail, letting her long blonde hair cascade down her back.
As opposed to Olga's confident, unabashed stance; Chloe shyly covered herself with her arms, clearly embarrassed.
Olga turned an expectant gaze to Alistair, who was tentatively holding his hands on his beltline. "Go ahead Alistair. It's only fair~"
"… Very well." With permission given, Alistair discarded his last articles of clothing.
The Dark Elves' eyes widened; their gazes immediately drawn downwards.
"My, what a magnificent sword you wield, Alistair!"
"I never knew a human's could grow so… large."
Alistair quirked a brow in confusion but did not otherwise respond to their comments. He stepped under one of the artificial waterfalls and began to wash himself, the Dark Elves following his example after a moment more of ogling. The enchanted water purified their pores, dragging out every impurity and leaving them feeling cleaner than they'd ever remembered being.
After rinsing themselves of dirt and grime, the three of them stepped into the center pool. Olga and Chloe slowly lowered themselves into the water, steadily acclimating their bodies to the water's heat. Alistair, uncaring of the sudden temperature shift, immediately immersed his body up to his chest.
"Mmh, I've missed this." Olga sighed. "I had almost forgotten what a proper bath felt like."
"Did you not have a similar bath at the Black Citadel?" asked Alistair.
She shook her head. "That fortress was built hastily with both security and defensibility in mind. We never had time to install extravagancies such as this." She chuckled then, a random thought coming to mind. "I bet your old captain hoped to live the royal life and experience all of its luxuries. He must be disappointed with his conquest, if only slightly."
Alistair grunted, breathing deeply of the bath's fragrant waters as it suffused the air. "You are rather vindictive, taking pleasure in even the smallest discomforts of your foes."
"It is in our nature," Olga explained. "Dark Elves as a whole are a vengeful race. Though we are often exaggerated as being the evil child of the elven races, there is some truth to the prejudice. We are the most merciless of our sibling elves, and those who wrong us will not often find an opportunity to do so again.
"Chloe here is an excellent example." She gestured to the blonde, gently putting a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Would you mind if I told him? Or perhaps you'd like to tell him yourself?"
Chloe's lips pressed together, acquiescing to her queen's request albeit nervously. "I-If that is what you wish, milady."
Brow furrowed in confusion, the argent haired knight watched as Chloe turned around and pushed her hair over her shoulder; revealing her back to him.
Almost all of her backside was faded scar tissue, the crisscrossing pattern suggesting repeated lashings. This type of scarring would only ever appear due to one particular occupation.
"You were a slave?" Alistair asked.
"I was born into it." She explained. "Filthy human raped and enslaved my mother and sold me off after I was born. For twenty years, I was some human bastard's property. I was forced to sate his disgusting desires since I was but a young girl." She chuckled darkly. "As you can see, he loved to use whips."
She paused, turning around to face him once more. Her eyes were glazed over, as if living through her past all over again. "Lady Olga rescued me roughly two centuries ago, alongside a dozen other Dark Elven slaves. She lined up our masters before us and gave us all weapons so we could enact our vengeance."
A smile graced her features, giddy and nostalgic. "First, we cut off and force fed them their own genitals. Then, we strung them up by their toes and slit their bellies, letting them bleed out like the pigs they were. Before my old owner died, I pried all information I could from him about my mother and father, dangling mercy before his pathetic eyes as a bargaining chip. After I got all I could from him, I left him hanging there, swinging from the ceiling alongside his hedonistic comrades. Blood rushing to his head, lungs slowly being crushed by his heavier organs, and surrounded by the stench of rotting cadavers… Well, it was what he wanted, after all!
"With Lady Olga's help, I was able to track down my father. He was everything I imagined: A revolting, loathsome, cowardly dastard who could only find pleasure in boosting his own ego. Do you know what his first words to me were, after telling him who I was? "I wonder if you're as good a lay as your mother was?'
"I asked him where she was, and he revealed that she had committed suicide a decade ago. I didn't blame her—if anything, I was surprised she waited so long. Maybe she hoped to see me again? I'll never know. But I thought to do her a favor and kill her tormentor in her place.
"I lured him away from the public, captured him, then flayed him alive. For every second of torment that I endured, that my mother endured, I made him experience tenfold." She scoffed, "He broke after just a few minutes, the pathetic thing. After I was done, I impaled his corpse on a spike and left it for the crows."
Suddenly, the light came back to her eyes and she once again saw the present. A forlorn look graced her features as she lowered her head, unable to meet Alistair's eyes. "You must think I'm psychotic. An insane harlot, sullied and impure."
"I don't."
Alistair's instantaneous response startled her. "You're not at all appalled by my actions?"
The knight shook his head. "If anything, I applaud them. They were demons in human skin, so they deserved every bit of your wrath."
Chloe's maroon eyes peeked through her wet bangs to stare up at him, the subservient Dark Elf staying silent for a moment. Then, in a quiet, anxious voice, she asked, "T-Then… what do you think of me?"
"I think you're strong, even more so than I first thought. Not only did you possess the willpower to continue living through years of torment, but you do not let your past trauma control you. The fact that you are able to suffer my presence in this vulnerable state speaks volumes, and I am honored that you trust me enough to be this close."
His words brought a heat to the blonde's cheeks, but she did not turn away from him. She lifted her head up to meet his gaze, a sincere smile on her lips. Her eyes were wet—not from the moisture of the bath, but from tears of pure joy and relief.
She had laid bare her miserable beginnings to Alistair, and he only thought better of her for it.
"Thank you, Alistair." She said gratefully. "Your words… they mean more to me than you could ever know."
"Hmm, I see…" Alistair hummed, giving her a small, reassuring smile in return.
Olga watched their interaction with a satisfied and pleased look, like a mother watching her child make their first friend. She was always concerned about Chloe's single-mindedness to serve her, so seeing her closest adjutant open up to others eased her worries. She couldn't help but feel slightly jealous that the knight wasn't turning his smile her way, however. There was a time where that same smile was reserved for her and a different blonde elf, and she missed it.
Olga knew that Alistair was not her Alberich. She knew that superimposing the older Aquila onto his descendant was wrong. Yet her heart could not yet differentiate between the two. She had to resist the urge to hold the man before her in her arms, to feel the warmth of his skin on hers. She settled for getting to know the last Aquila a bit better instead.
"You know Alistair, you have some rather peculiar scars. Surely there are stories behind them? For example, that one," Olga pointed a large bite scar on his collarbone. "Is it perhaps a reminder of an overzealous lover?"
Alistair reached up to touch the old wound, shaking his head. "I'm a virgin."
His usual deadpan delivery along with his choice of words sent the Dark Elves into a fit of giggles. "Oh? Is that so?"
"It is."
"Then would you enlighten us of its origin?"
"If you so wish…"
The trio would stay in the bath for an hour more, lost in Alistair's stories of his past battles and exploits.
-]|[-
He dreamt of battle.
In particular, Alistair dreamt of Alaric's encounter with the drake, from which he recollected Sunlight Spear.
Except, instead of Alaric hunting the beast, it was him.
Being thrust into battle so suddenly startled the knight, and he only just barely raised his shield in time to block the drake's flames. He felt the heat suffuse through the air and into his armor, though not uncomfortably so. He took this opportunity to calm his racing mind and think of his next move.
'… Five more seconds until it stops for breath. Just do as Alaric did and I should be fine.'
Just as he predicted, the drake stopped its attack to refuel its oxygen reserves. He reared back his arm, surging mana to his hand and casting Sunlight Spear. Plasma gathered in his palm, elongating into a spear and sparking with electricity.
As he took aim to hurl the Sunlight Spear into the drake's heart, he felt the spell begin to lose control. The spear slowly began to lose its shape the longer he held it, the knight unable to stabilize the magical construct. It surged as the plasma superheated the air around him, robbing him of breath as oxygen turned to ozone. Alistair had no choice but to release the malformed Sunlight Spear at his target.
The spell flew slow and ungracefully. Despite the spell's aim being true, the magical energy dissipated harmlessly a few meters before it reached the drake. The creature, able to replenish its reserves, spit fire at him once again. Alistair was forced on the defensive once more. He noted that the intensity of the drake's flames grew hotter with every second.
'It's as if it's coming closer… !'
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the fire suppressing him stopped. Large clawed feet grasped him by the shoulders and carried him to the skies, pinning his arms so that he could not retaliate. The drake shrieked in victory as it rose in altitude, flying above the clouds before releasing Alistair from its grip.
Free falling from the troposphere and robbed of oxygen to breathe, Alistair was helpless as his body passed through the clouds once more. Reaching terminal velocity, he watched the ground approach him, welcoming him to his death. He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact that would paint him across the landscape.
…
…
…
"How long are you going to stand there with your eyes closed, young Alistair?"
The familiar, aged voice caused the knight to slowly open his eyes. Instead of earth, he was greeted by his ancestors. They wore armor up to their neck, leaving their faces bare so that he could easier distinguish them. Alberich, the one who had called out to him, stood at the fore; flanked by both Albion and Alaric.
Alaric in particular held a disappointed look on his face. Alistair could guess why.
"I see the past dream was not a mere hallucination," Alistair said.
"If only it were so," Alaric moaned. "Then I would not have to witness you butcher one of my beloved spells. Honestly, attempting Sunlight Spear before learning, let alone mastering Lightning Spear… I did not think our bloodline could become so arrogant and foolhardy."
"I apologize." In retrospect, it was foolish of him to try and cut corners to save time and effort, especially with something so dangerous as magic. "I had thought Recollection's power absolute."
Alberich shook his head. "It can show you the initial process of spell casting but not refine the process for you. There was a reason why Alamar had considered it a gimmick. Though it gave him access to our spell arsenals, it did not grant him mastery over them."
"That is why I guided you through the casting of Great Heal." Albion continued. "The fact that you were able to cast Blessed Weapon and Sacred Oath so seamlessly were due solely to the similar casting processes they all share."
Alistair hung his head. "I see… Then, what can be done?"
Albion placed a hand on his descendant's shoulder. "We shall work to guide you through our spells, just I did when we last met. In time, you will be able to cast them without our assistance, though that won't be for a while yet. We will need to improve your mana control first and foremost."
Seeing Alistair's confused look, Alaric explained further. "The flow of mana within your body was stagnant for most of your life due to disuse. As such, you have little control over your mana output whenever you cast a spell. You have a habit of overcharging spells, making it unstable and wasting an excessive amount of mana. That is why Sunlight Spear failed for you earlier.
"Now come. Dreams only last for as long as you are asleep, and we have already used up an hour of this night. You must work diligently if you wish to be able to fully control our spells for the trying times ahead."
Suddenly, Alistair found himself in a new area: A flat plain, littered with rusted weapons and armor, and covered in a fog so think he could barely see five feet in front of him.
"To master our spells, you must start with the basics." The stern, disembodied voice of Alaric echoed around him. "You will learn properly this time."
A low moan sounded from behind Alistair, causing him to whip around to confront it. The fog parted slightly, revealing a lanky man in tattered robes shambling towards him, dagger in hand. The figure's skin was heavily shriveled and grotesquely pale, his eyes glazed over in a mindless, faraway stare.
Alistair reached for his own weapon but grasped naught but air. Even his shield was gone, leaving him with only his fists to defend himself.
"I will guide you through Lightning Spear, this once." Alaric continued, and Alistair felt his body stiffen as a foreign entity took control of his movements. He felt the draw of mana into his palm, sparks of electricity coalescing in a familiar shape. After the spell completed, he regained control of his body.
At once, Alistair noticed the significantly lower mana consumption of the spell, as well as the lesser heat emitted compared to Sunlight Spear. The surge of magical lightning was also much easier to control and stabilize, with only a few errant sparks branching away from the main body of the construct. He was confident that he could hold the electrical javelin for a few minutes, exponentially longer than the few seconds he could manage with its more powerful counterpart.
The shambling man suddenly entered a dead sprint, raising his dagger overhead to bring it down on the knight's head. Quickly taking aim, Alistair let loose his Lightning Spear, watching it zoom towards his enemy.
The spell lanced through the shambling man, piercing straight through his chest and unleashing a devastating surge of electricity. The man was immediately paralyzed, his nerves frying even as he tumbled to the ground. The spastic convulsing of his body was the only movement he could manage, and even they were not voluntary. After a moment, the man's body stilled as the last vestiges of electrical energy dissipated.
"You see now, why I was so disappointed in you earlier." Alaric's voice echoed once more. "Though weaker, the power of Lightning Spear is still nothing to scoff at. For lesser enemies, it would be all you need."
"Yes, I understand now." Alistair nodded.
"Good." More moans rang out from the fog, an almost deafening amount in fact. "Now, you shall do it again, without my aid."
The fog parted, and Alistair found surround by a legion of shambling zombies, not unlike the first.
"… This is a bit much." Alistair protested as he desperately tried to imitate his previous casting before they decided to charge.
"Repetition is the best practice for spell casting. Not only are you ingraining the process into your mind and making the spell easier to cast in the future, but also honing and strengthening your mana flow. Be at ease. You cannot die in your dreams."
With a thunderous roar, the entire mob began to charge Alistair.
It was in that moment that Alistair realized that he would miss his dreamless nights.
-]|[-
A/N: What's up everyone?
Been a while since my last update, huh? I did warn ya'll that I don't have a regular update schedule XD. This chapter was originally about twice as long, but I decided to cut it in half to get something out before the year ends. That means that the next chapter is well on its way, though perhaps not nearly as soon as everyone would like.
Also, I've rewritten the previous chapters. Nothing much, just fixing grammar and add a bit more to some scenes. It'll make rereading a bit more bearable until the next update, at the very least.
Big thanks to Primordial Vortex, who helped beta this chapter and for overall being a big inspiration for taking up the pen.