Paralogue: City of Vice

"Hah! Zeaah! Greeeahh!"

It was early. So early that the vanguard, and indeed, most of the ship's crew were still asleep. But not Quinn. Quinn had awoken early, and took his axe up to the deck to practice his swings. The vanguard's victories had made him complacent. Their battle with that cloaked figure, and Ophion's escape, showed him as much. Ingrid had once told him that tragedy most often struck from triumph's shadow, and like so many other things in his life, she had been right. It was clear that he needed to do more. He needed to become better at fighting, and gain greater mastery over Norn's power… or, would his Ring be named "Tiamat?"

The first issue was easy enough to solve. Ingrid, Lindow, Captain Uther… there was no shortage of potential sparring partners. But mastering the Ring would prove to be a greater challenge. Approaching Elma was the most obvious solution…

Quinn's thoughts trailed off as sound came to his ears. It was the sound of a blade cutting through the air. But it was not the slow, heavy swing of an axe. The sound was quick, and sharp. The unmistakable sound of a sword. Quinn whipped around, holding his axe ready. But there was no one nearby. But he was not alone- on the far side of the ship, he could see someone, swinging a sword in both hands. The sword was bathed in a white light, made all the more obvious in the predawn darkness.

Hanging his axe from his belt, Quinn approached the stranger, and asked out loud, "Kay?"

The mercenary looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, good morning," he said, the sword in his hands dissolving into the darkness. "Apologies. You didn't strike me as an early riser."

"Getting an early workout?" Quinn asked. "That last battle must've gotten to you, too. Even Captain Uther doesn't rise this early."

Kay shook his head. "Honestly, it's more out of habit than anything else. I haven't done much but train with weapons ever since I ran away with Mister Van."

"Ran away?" Quinn asked. He wouldn't lie; knowing as little about Kay as he did, he couldn't help but be curious. "From where?"

Kay… didn't answer, a strange expression on his face. Quinn waited. But still, no answer came. Eventually, it dawned on Quinn that the mercenary might be unable, or unwilling, to answer his question. So, attempting to clear the uncomfortable silence, he then said, "I uh, I saw you using Armiger just now. Miss Ingrid told me that it makes weapons. Can it do anything else?"

Kay finally responded. "Not that I know of…" he said, "but I only know what Mister Van told me."

"What about the weapons, then? Are they special somehow?"

Kay held up his hand. Armiger glowed, and the mercenary was surrounded by crystalline weapons. "The arsenal created by Armiger…" he said, "are copies of weapons, wielded by Mosk's previous rulers." He reached out, and took hold of one of the weapons: a hammer, with a broad flat head and a long shaft. "Like this warhammer. It's a copy of the one wielded by Daein, the first Emperor of Mosk." The warhammer, along with the rest of the weapons, faded away.

Quinn remembered that hammer, how Graf Alibert had used it to break Anya's ribs. But he pushed the thought aside. "I see…" he replied. After a moment of thought, he then said, "Kay? I've been thinking that I should find someone to spar with. If it's alright, would you be willing to train with me?"

Kay blinked, clearly surprised, but replied, "I certainly wouldn't mind it. But… why me specifically?"

"Our last battle showed me that I'm starting to get complacent. I need to train more, so I'm ready to handle anything." Quinn's gaze turned to Kay's ring. "And it looks like Armiger can make all kinds of weapons. Training with you would be easier than trying to train with someone who only specializes in one kind of weapon."

Kay nodded. "I suppose that's a reasonable argument. So…" A crystalline axe materialized in his hand. "Shall we begin?"

Quinn smiled, before drawing his own weapon. "I'm ready."

After their business in Tharros was concluded, the vanguard had returned to their ship, to discuss their next destination. Ingrid had said that securing the support of the Vanderijck Trade Guild would give Bannon and her allies a tremendous advantage over Kherson. Uther and Mother Agnes agreed- no ship in Aurea could sail faster than a Guild ship, and being on the offensive, they would need a way to ferry troops and supplies to the front as quickly as possible.

However, convincing the Guild to side with Bannon would not be easy. Though Kherson posed as much of a threat to them as it did to the rest of Aurea, the Guild cared about one thing, and one thing only: their bottom line. And the war would be too tempting a business opportunity for them to enter into an exclusive partnership. Uther mused bitterly that all the gold in Bannon's treasury couldn't buy their loyalty.

But, as the vanguard pondered about how they would sway the Guild to their side, an answer came from an unexpected source. "Just leave the Guild to me," Yonah had said. "Their President is a friend of my family. We know each other. She'll listen to me." Isaac and Ingrid confirmed that Yonah's family had a connection to the current master of the Guild. And so, putting their trust in the young Archon, the vanguard set out from Coea and sailed on to their next destination: the Free City of Vanderijck.

"Professor, have you ever been to Vanderijck?" Gail asked.

"I have not," Isaac replied, adjusting his glasses. "Though I am familiar with its history."

"Then is it true there's no laws there?"

"Not exactly," Malcolm replied in Professor Isaac's stead. "There are no courts or legal system, but there is a code of conduct in the Guild's charter that all members are expected to follow. And anyone who owns a business in Vanderijck is required to join the Guild…"

Malcolm's words faded as Quinn looked out over the sea, becoming lost in his own thoughts. The others seemed excited to visit, but Quinn wasn't sure what to make of the city. Everything he knew, he knew from hearsay and rumors from the miners back in Grimhold: that it was once a pirate's hideout, built on the backs of slaves. A marketplace where anything could be bought, from information, to priceless treasures, to human lives. A merciless hell-on-earth where the strong prospered, and the weak had no choice but to either kneel, or perish.

"What's the matter, kid?" a familiar voice asked. "Seeing you frown so much makes me worry." Quinn looked over- Lindow was leaning against the railing next to him.

"Oh. Hey, Lindow," Quinn replied. "I've been thinking about Vanderijck. What's it like? Have you ever been there?"

"On occasion, for work," the thief replied. "It's neutral, so it's a good place to meet with clients, discuss contracts, gather intel… you know, that sort of thing."

Quinn looked over, surprised.

"What's that look for?" Lindow asked, incredulous. "Don't tell me you thought it was some lawless hole where you could do whatever you wanted. Yeah, it was a pirate hideaway, but Vanderijck put those days behind them a long time ago. And the Guild runs a pretty tight ship nowadays. It's safe. You'll see."

"Vanderijck on the port side!" the helmsman called. "Ten degrees west of south!"

"Oh, we're already here," Lindow said. "C'mon kid. You're gonna wanna see this."

Quinn and Lindow crossed to the port side of the ship, where the rest of the vanguard was gathered. The young man was not prepared for the sight awaiting him across the water. It was a city… but one unlike any he'd ever seen before. It was packed with wooden towers rising high above the water, so many that no trace of the sky could be seen behind them. Even from as far out to sea as they were, Quinn could tell how massive they were- imagining how tall they must've been made his stomach turn.

Lindow crossed his arms with a smirk. "Yeah, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when I saw it the first time, too."

"The buildings are so tall…" was the only thing Quinn could think to say.

"Vanderijck doesn't have a whole lot of space for expansion," the thief explained. "They started building on the water recently, but where most cities would spread out when they need more room, Vanderijck has nowhere to go but straight up."

"See that big white building?" Yonah said, pointing. "That's the Guild headquarters."

Quinn looked- rising up above the towers was a massive white spire, flying countless red banners. "Well, at least we won't get lost," he heard Lindow say.

The ship carefully maneuvered around various docks and bridges that covered the sea's surface like a spider's web, before dropping anchor at an open pier. But the moment the gangplank was dropped, two men clad in black boarded the ship.

"Welcome to the Free City of Vanderijck, home of the Vanderijck Trade Guild," one of the men said. "We'll need to see your ship's manifest, as well as your visitor's permits."

"Permits?" Uther asked, confused. "What for?"

"All visitors to Vanderijck are required to purchase a permit prior to arriving," the other man said. "Visitors without a permit may purchase one upon arrival, but an additional thirty percent surcharge will be added to the original price. There is also the matter of your docking fee, contraband inspection fee, and additional gratuity fees for each member of a visiting party with more than eight members."

Lindow sighed. "That's the Guild for you- not even ten seconds in, and they're already trying to shake us down."

"Wait."

The gangplank creaked as someone climbed up, and onto the deck. It was another person, wearing a long, dark red coat with a high collar. The stranger's hair was black, pulled into a long, messy ponytail, their face obscured by the collar of their coat, and a pair of glasses with dark lenses. But Quinn's attention was drawn to the long, heavy blade resting across the stranger's shoulder.

The two men in black shrank away from the stranger. Quinn began to reach for his axe, but before he could, the stranger spoke. "Alright," they asked, "Which one of you is Yonah?" The stranger's voice was rough, but belonged to a woman.

Several moments passed before Yonah stepped forward, "I-I am, m-ma'am," she stammered.

The stranger approached Yonah. "The President has been expecting you."

"But ma'am, what about the-" one of the black-clad men began.

"The President has chosen to see to all of her guests' expenses, personally. You may return to your duties." As the two men disembarked, the woman turned her attention back to the vanguard. "I will see to it that the remaining enforcers are aware of your status as the President's guests. However, do not think this gives you free reign over Vanderijck. We will be watching you. And disruption of Guild operations will not be tolerated." The stranger turned her attention back to Yonah. "Now, I'll need you to come with me."

Espada stepped forward, drawing his blade. " She's not going anywhere, " he spat. "Not until you tell us who you are."

The stranger shifted her attention to Espada, tensing. "You really shouldn't be pointing that at me."

Uther quickly put himself between the stranger, and Yonah and her bodyguard. "Everyone, please , there's no need for this!" The captain turned to the stranger. "I must apologize, but my comrade raises a fair point. If you're truly a member of the Guild, then you should have no issue with identifying yourself."

The stranger sighed, before stabbing her blade into the deck and removing her glasses, revealing a long, jagged scar over her right eye. "I'm Megaera, Auditor for the Guild. I was instructed to escort Yonah to Guild HQ by the President herself."

Yonah looked up at Megaera, before saying, "That's right. Anna told me about you in your letters. You're… a lot scarier than I thought you'd be."

"And I know who the rest of you are," Megaera added, looking to the rest of the vanguard.

"Just a moment," Ingrid said. "If you know who we are, then you must know why we're here."

"We are well aware," the woman replied. "However, the President is in the midst of handling internal Guild affairs. Once this matter is resolved, arrangements will be made for a meeting between you and an appropriate Guild representative. The President is a busy woman, you understand."

"Not so busy that she can't make time to see a personal friend…" Espada grumbled, finally sheathing his sword.

The stranger shot Espada a dirty look before turning her attention back to the others. "There was someone else the President wanted to meet, however. Someone named 'Quinn.'"

Quinn jolted at hearing his name. "Wait, what? Why?"

"Yes. Why him? " Ingrid asked, inching closer to Quinn.

"You don't become the master of the most powerful guild in Aurea without knowing names. And let's just say that the President is… intrigued by Aurea's newest major player," the woman replied, resting her free hand on her hip.

Stunned, Quinn could only ask, "Major player? Me?"

Megaera held up her free hand. "Archon of the Archonite Order. Close ally of the King of Bannon. Seer whose insight prevented the loss of hundreds of soldiers in an ambush at Couteau Bridge. And the victor in the first clash between Ringbearers in over eighty years," she said, raising a finger for each fact she stated. "And that's just what the public knows. The Guild's file on you is much more extensive. For instance, we know that you were raised in Grimhold, though you weren't born there. We know that you were educated at the Arcane College in Corburg. And we know that you didn't defeat Prince Merdraut in single combat, as popularly believed, but that it took the efforts of you and two other Ringbearers."

Quinn was speechless. He didn't realize that people have known so much about what he had done. Lindow patted his back, and said, "Congratulations, kid. Looks like you're in the big leagues now. Anyway, I think now's a good time to discuss a pay raise…"

Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the woman. "You've done your homework, I see."

But before she could say anything else, Quinn stepped forward, pulling himself away from Lindow. "Alright" he said. "I'll go with you."

"Quinn…" Ingrid said, her expression twisted into obvious concern.

He looked back to the inquisitor. "It's okay. You said it yourself- we need the Guild's support to beat Kherson. And if the President herself wants to meet with me, then I should at least hear her out, shouldn't I?"

Ingrid was silent, before grabbing Quinn's arm and pulling him close. "Listen to me, Quinn," she whispered. "We may need the Guild's assistance to fight Kherson, but they cannot be trusted. Don't sign anything their representatives give you. Decline any proposals they make. Don't agree to anything without consulting us first. Am I clear?"

Quinn nodded. "Got it."

"You done over there?" Megaera asked impatiently. "It's a long way to HQ from here, and the President is not someone you should keep waiting."

"You look tired, friend. If you're interested, I've got some things that can take the edge off."

"Got a selection of good things on sale, stranger!"

"Hey man you looking for some gear I got some nice gear over here for you."

"Meat pies! Can't have a meal without meat!"

The air was filled with endless shouts from merchants advertising their wares. The towers of Vanderijck stretched high into the sky, almost completely blotting out the sun. The narrow, darkened streets below were alive with people, packed with so many stalls there was almost no space to move forward. But all fell silent, and the crowd parted as Megaera, Quinn, and Yonah approached, as if the three of them were in a bubble. Quinn's heart hammered in his chest under the gaze of so many, but when he remembered to breathe, the way Ingrid had taught him, his heart calmed, and he could press forward again.

"Hey, boy. Listen up," the woman said. "There're certain protocols you'll need to follow before meeting the President. First, you'll be turning in your weapons to the reception desk. And I do mean all of them. Second, we'll be conducting a full-body search for ensure you've been fully disarmed. You don't want to know what happens if you try to hold out on us. Third, in the President's office, there's a line on the floor. Put even one toe over that line, and you'll be dead before you have time to regret it. Am I understood?"

"Uh, y-yes, ma'am," Quinn stammered. If this was how her subordinates were, he shuddered to imagine how terrifying their boss would be.

As if reading his mind, Yonah leaned toward Quinn and said in a low voice, "Don't look so worried, Kieran. The President's actually really nice."

In time, the three reach the massive white building Quinn and the others had seen from the ship- the Guild's headquarters. It had already seemed impossibly tall from the bay, but now, up close, it was practically dizzying. Inside, he turned over his axe, and was thoroughly searched. When Megaera was satisfied, she led him and Yonah further into the building.

As Quinn followed Megaera through twisting hallways and up winding steps, it was clear that everything about the building's interior exuded opulence- the floors were covered in fine rugs, and the walls were lined with paintings, tapestries, and all manner of other finery. One painting they passed depicted the clock tower at the Arcane College; another showed the Couteau Bridge, bathed in clouds; and on a small table was a pot not unlike the ones he'd seen people using in Coea, depicting some sort of battle.

Eventually, after climbing gods-only-knew how many stairs, the three arrived in a narrow hallway- it was oddly empty, save for a single door. Megaera knocked on the door. "Miss President, your guests have arrived."

"Send them in," a woman's voice replied. A young woman's voice.

Megaera pushed the door open, giving a quick tilt of her head. Quinn understood, and stepped into the room beyond.

If the halls leading up to this room were opulent, then the room itself was nothing less than extravagant. The back wall was completely missing, replaced with an enormous glass window, through which Quinn could see the ocean; he had never seen a window that large before. The walls were covered with paintings, and from the ceiling hung a huge chandelier made of gold and crystal, sparkling in the sunlight. Below the chandelier sat a desk of dark wood, a golden line set into the floor right in front of it. And sitting behind the desk, in a plush chair, was a girl.

She was… young- if she was older than Quinn, it wouldn't have been by much. She wore simple unassuming clothes of red and white, at odds with the finery around her, and glasses with dark rims, her red hair hanging down to her shoulders.

Yonah's eyes widened when she laid eyes on the girl. "Aimee?"

Aimee? Quinn thought. He could've sworn he heard Yonah say the President's name was Anna.

Aimee looked up, and sprang to her feet. "Oh my goodness, Yonah!" The red-haired girl nearly leapt over the desk and rushed to Yonah, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. "It's so good to see you again! Have you been talking to your parents? How's your head?"

"Mom and Dad are fine," Yonah replied. "And so's my head. What about you? How have you been?"

"Well, the Board won't get off my back about their pet project, but we've been raking in the cash so I can't really complain too much." Aimee finally let Yonah go. "Oh, and by the way… B-Catapult to E-6."

Yonah's eyes widened, but only for a moment. "Oh, so that's how it is. Alright. D-Chariot to D-4. And, checkmate."

"Wait, hang on…" Aimee hurried back to her desk, to a checkered board covered in small wooden pieces. She moved two of them, before she snapped her fingers and let out an angry breath. "Damn it… another loss for me."

"The Reznov Maneuver," Yonah said. "It's a strong play, but needs good misdirection to really be effective. I saw it coming a while ago."

Aimee looked over to Yonah, surprised. "When did you figure it out?"

"When you put both catapults on the same side of the board," Yonah answered.

"Really? All the way back then?" Aimee asked incredulously. "You know it was coming for five months?"

Before Yonah could answer, Quinn stepped forward. "I… don't mean to interrupt, but, you wanted to speak with us both, right?"

Aimee then stared at Quinn, as if seeing him for the first time. Then, she gasped, her face turning red. She then reached up, adjusting her glasses. "O-Oh… so, you m-must be Quinn, then. I… I've heard a lot about you."

"Hey. Are you feeling okay?" Quinn asked, the sudden shift taking him by surprise.

Yonah noticed the shift as well. "What's wrong, Aimee?"

"Oh, it's… nothing. Uh, h-have a seat." Aimee quickly retreated behind her desk, and took a seat.

Quinn and Yonah complied, seating themselves in chairs on the near side of the desk, Quinn making absolutely certain that he didn't cross the golden line on the floor.

"So," Yonah began, "what did you want to talk to us about?"

Aimee adjusted her glasses again. "I'll start off with some good news. Yonah's been keeping me up to date with everything she's been doing. We know you're planning to go to war with Kherson, and to be honest, I'm willing to do whatever I can to help you."

"Just like that?" The words slipped out before Quinn could stop them.

She looked at Quinn, face reddening slightly again. "Of course! The Imperial Trading Company has been trying to push us out of western Aurea for years now. The war would be a perfect chance to reestablish our old routes. But…"

"But?" Yonah asked. She seemed surprised. But Quinn wasn't. Ingrid made it abundantly clear that any offer the Guild made would have strings attached. It seemed even their President wasn't exempt.

"You need us to do something for you," Quinn said. "Right?"

"Well… yes." Aimee leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "I need your help."

Night had fallen, and Quinn and Yonah had long since returned to the ship. Ingrid had pressed him for information the moment he returned, but Quinn insisted that the President had only wanted to assess him in person. After holding him in her stern gaze for an uncomfortably long time, she finally relented. With no new information, all the vanguard could do now was wait.

Eventually, the sun set, but the activity in Vanderijck didn't diminish in the slightest. In fact, the whole city seemed to glow with its own light. Not that it stopped the rest of the vanguard from turning in for the night. Uther had elected not to post a night watch- after all, they were in neutral territory, under the ruling power's protection. By all rights, they were perfectly safe.

And that gave Quinn and Yonah the opening they needed.

Quinn climbed out of his hammock, and crept as quietly as he could to the top deck. Not that such caution was necessary- he was amazed the others could sleep with so much noise. On the deck, Yonah was already waiting. "There you are," she said. "Perfect timing, too- Aimee just got here. See her?" She pointed- at the end of the dock, Quinn could see two shadowed figures, one tall, the other short, and waving toward the ship.

The two disembarked, and approached the figures. "Good, you came," Aimee said. "Glad you guys decided not to bail on us."

"Uh, Aimee?" Quinn asked. "You… seem different." Aimee was much different now than she had been at the office. And not just because of her appearance, though that too had changed: she'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and gotten rid of her glasses. Her whole demeanor was different; where Aimee had shrunk away from Quinn back in the office, as if trying to make herself less noticeable, she now stood tall, her voice brimming with confidence and certainty, and her face didn't redden when she laid eyes on him.

Aimee seemed confused, but blinked as if realizing something. "Oh, don't worry about that. What about you? You ready to go?"

"We're ready," Yonah replied.

"Our destination is on the city outskirts," Megaera said. "We don't know how long tonight's show will last, so we need to move fast."

Aimee's favor, as it turned out, was much different from what both Quinn and Yonah had been expecting. Recently, agents of the Guild had discovered a ring of underground pit fighters was operating in Vanderijck. Not only was the ring operating illegally, but the Guild's Board of Directors had begun plans to build their own Guild-sponsored coliseum, and so, were determined to stamp out potential competition. But there was a problem. Every time the Guild raided the location where the pit fights were held, they would be abandoned, only for the fights to resume somewhere else a few weeks later. The Board chalked up the failures to unreliable sources and bad luck; but Aimee was convinced that a Guind insider was leaking information, to help the fight organizers evade capture.

Rumors were circulating that the fights had resumed once again. The Board of Directors was preparing to launch yet another raid in the coming weeks, but Aimee was determined to beat them to the punch. By assembling a team and striking before the Board was ready, Aimee hoped to catch the fight organizers before they could slip away once again.

And that was where Quinn and Yonah came in.

Megaera halted. The four were far from the docks now, in a section of the city that seemed… darker, both literally and figuratively: the buildings were smaller, grimier, and packed even closer together. "We're here," she said.

Quinn looked down the street. There was only one building with light coming from the windows. The air carried a sour scent that was very familiar to him- back in Grimhold, that same scent hung around the tavern. "So, that's the place?" Aimee asked.

"Looks kind of small to be hiding a secret fighting arena," Quinn said.

"There's probably a cave under that tavern where they're set up," Yonah replied. "Vanderijck Bay is famous for its network of sea caves."

Megaera turned her back to Aimee, Quinn, and Yonah. "Alright. I'll gather up the local enforcers. Try to hold out until we can get to you."

"Don't keep us waiting, Meg," Aimee replied.

"You're not coming with us?" Quinn asked.

"Every lowlife in Vanderijck knows my face. If the fight organizers see me coming their way, they'll get spooked and call the whole thing off." She turned, looking down at Quinn. "I hope you're as good as our reports say you are." And with that, she walked away.

Yonah looked to Aimee. "Now what, Anna? I don't think they'll just let us in."

Aimee gave a confident grin. "You just leave that to me. I've been doing my own scouting, so I've learned a thing or two." And with that, she pushed open the tavern door, and stepped inside.

At once, Quinn's nostrils were assaulted by an overwhelmingly sour scent. Seemingly every table was full of rough-looking men and women, deep enough in their cups that nobody spared the three a first glance, much less a second. Aimee crossed the tavern, never losing the confident spring in her step, until she reached the bar, Quinn and Yonah following.

Behind the bar was a grizzled man with dark hair and a bushy beard, wearing an eyepatch. He looked the three up and down for a moment, before growling, "I don't what you're lookin' for, but whatever it is, you ain't gonna find it here. Get lost."

Undeterred, Aimee reached into her pocket, and dropped a small pouch on the bar. "Three glasses of Velvet LaChance, please."

The bartender opened the pouch, and looked inside, before he glanced over to a bald, thuggish man seated at a nearby table, and motioned him over. "I'm afraid we're out at the moment. But, we have a good selection in the cellar downstairs. Follow my associate, see if there's anything you like."

Without a word, the bald man led the three to a door next to the bar. It led to a cramped, narrow staircase that went down into the earth. A familiar pressure began to build in Quinn's ears as they climbed down, and the wood underfoot was replaced with smooth, dark stone. They emerged in a surprisingly large cavern, a line of braziers leading further in.

As they followed the man, Aimee leaned in close to Quinn, and pushed something against his stomach. "Here."

Quinn grabbed the object and looked at it. It was a mask made of black metal, blank, save for holes for his eyes. "What's this for?" he asked.

Aimee leaned in close. "Vanderijck gets a lot of visitors. And you are kinda famous. It could cause all kinds of problems if someone in the crowd recognizes you." It was a fair point, so Quinn put the mask on.

It didn't take long before a new sound came to Quinn's ears: the steady hum of many people talking. And the cave ahead was much brighter than it should've been. Eventually, they came to the source- a massive circular structure, built of wood, lit up by countless torches. Quinn could only gawk- how in the world could someone have built something like this underground? Yonah must have thought the same thing, because he heard Aimee let out a low whistle. "Definitely not an amateur operation…" Aimee whispered back. "Looks like my hunch was right on the mark."

The bald man led them to a counter, where a wiry man covered in scars was seated. "Aah, welcome, welcome. I can take 'em from here." The bald man departed. "You're just in time. Tonight's show is just about to begin." He leaned forward. "So, three seats?"

"Just two, actually," Aimee said. "Me and my friend-" she motioned to Yonah. "-will be watching. The boy wants to make a name for himself in the ring."

The man behind the counter looked at Quinn, and let out a contemptuous snort. " Him? " he asked. "Well, he got a name?"

"Uh… Black Mask."

"Hmph." The man pointed. "Take the door on the left. Wait 'til your name is called. And, try to put up a good fight before you die, son."

Wordlessly, Quinn nodded, and stepped through the door on the left.

Inside was a dark room with a portcullis on the far side. Through the bars, he could see a ring of sand, surrounded on all sides by rough wooden walls. Above those, he could see a ring of benches, and countless people looking in. There was a great murmuring, as the audience waited for the spectacle to begin.

"Hey. Over here," a rough voice called. From the shadows, an old man emerged. What little hair he had was pale white, and his wrinkled skin was covered in scars. He approached, looking Quinn over. "Ah… didn't think we'd be getting a fresh face tonight."

Quinn said nothing. But outside, the clamor of the crowd had died down, and he heard a man call out, "And starting out the night, we have some fresh blood! A new fighter hoping to make a name for himself, introducing… Black Mask!"

The man walked to a large wooden wheel next to the gate. "Guess that's your cue, kid. Give 'em a show they won't forget."

Quinn nodded. The old man turned the great wheel, and the portcullis ascended. Quinn stepped through the open gate, and into the arena. Almost at once, his ears were filled with jeers and insults. Quinn looked around, spotting Aimee and Yonah in the crowd. He was glad he was wearing a mask. And the fact that no one had thrown anything at him.

"Black Mask, is there anything you'd like to say to our adoring audience?" the booming voice asked. He looked for the source, and saw a dark-haired man wearing a coat made from a gaudy golden fabric standing at the edge of the wall surrounding the arena. Quinn looked up at the man, tilting his head, but said nothing. Not that he would have been heard over the jeering crowd.

The announcer waited expectantly, but when Quinn didn't respond, he quickly said, "A-Anyway, for his opponent, with a staggering six consecutive wins in his debut, please welcome… Jackal!" The man motioned to his left, to a portcullis on the opposite side of the arena from Quinn. The gate opened, and another man stepped into the arena.

Unlike Quinn's entrance, the audience erupted into cheers as his opponent entered. He was a thin man, bald, with wide ears and a strange, pointed face, a dagger in each hand. Jackal pointed one of his blades at Quinn. "If you're smart, you'll lay down that axe and walk away!"

Quinn said nothing in reply, drawing his axe.

Jackal seethed. "Oh, think you're too good to waste your breath on me!?" And he charged, without waiting for the announcer's signal to begin.

One enemy. No distractions. Compared to what he'd experienced on the battlefield, this was almost insultingly easy. Quinn could have read the other fighter's moves without Norn's help.

As he charged, Jackal pulled back his arms, readying a thrust with both daggers. Quinn waited, until his enemy was close enough, until the right moment where he had fully committed to his attack. Too early, and his enemy would redirect; too late, and…

Quinn darted to the right. Jackal stumbled, his thrust pushing him off-balance, and leaving him completely open. So Quinn drew back, before striking the man with the flat side of his axe. The blow knocked Jackal off his feet, his daggers flying from his hands. He hit the ground, hard, and lay unmoving.

The arena fell silent. Aimee had said matches in the arena were typically fought to the death, but Quinn would prefer to avoid killing his opponents if he could. Hopefully, his display would be enough to sate the crowd.

And it was. The crowd erupted in cheers as two burly men climbed into the arena and carried off the unconscious Jackal.

"What an incredible turn! A rising star, snuffed out in a single blow!" the announcer shouted excitedly. "Has a new hidden gem graced our arena!? And how far can Lady Luck take him!? Black Mask! Are you ready to face your next opponent?"

Quinn said nothing, but held out his arm, his thumb raised.

"Excellent. For your next opponent… or rather, opponents! Yes, plural! A pair of fighters that bring a unique show to the ring! The masters of mayhem, the princes of pain! I bring you… Sonne and Nacht!"

The portcullis on the far side of the arena opened, and another shadowed figure began to step out. But all of a sudden, they were pulled back, a voice shouting, "Hey no fair! You got to lead last time!" The figure struggled, before two men spilled out into the open.

The two men were… almost identical- they must have been brothers. They had the same dark hair, the same dark eyes… but there were plenty of differences between them. One wore a black shirt and white trousers, and was rather fat; the other wore only blue trousers, and had several scars on his arms and chest, with one scar right over his mouth, twisting his expression into a permanent snarl.

The two men wrestled, the one in blue putting the one in black in a headlock. "Don't you start with me, Nacht!"

The man in black twisted, but couldn't break free from the man in blue's hold. "You always do this, Sonne! Ever since we were kids! You always had to be better than me!"

Quinn tensed when the two men entered the ring, but slowly began to relax. Though there were two, the lack of coordination between them was readily apparent. Perhaps they would be easy opponents as well.

"Uh, gentlemen?" the announcer asked. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Huh?" Both men looked up to the announcer, then to Quinn. They separated, and drew their weapons- both wielded an axe. "Yeah I'm ready!" the man in black shouted- Nacht, if Quinn heard right.

"I think I'll leave this one to you," the man in blue- Sonne- said. "Kids are hardly a challenge. For me, at least."

Before Nacht could say anything, the announcer called, "Begin!"

Nacht shot Sonne a glare as the latter stepped back. "Fine. I don't need you! You could never stand on your own without pushing me down!" With that, he charged at Quinn.

Quinn waited for the right moment to evade Nacht's strike. Like with Jackal, there was only one enemy and no distractions. With ease, he avoided his opponent's wild swing.

Just in time to see Sonne sliding across his brother's back, axe raised for an overhead swing.

There was no time to evade- Quinn held up his axe with both hands, and tried to block the blow. It worked, but the blow pushed him back, making him lose his balance on the uneven ground. He stumbled, but stayed on his feet.

"Hah, this one's got good reflexes," Sonne said.

"I thought we had him for sure," Nacht replied. "They always fall for the fight."

"Oh, he fell for it. He was just sharp enough that it didn't get him killed," Sonne said.

A ruse. Of course. Quinn should have known. These were fighters hardened by experience in the ring. If they had genuinely been at one another's throats, a more skilled opponent would have easily bested them long ago.

Perhaps this wouldn't be as easy as he thought.

Quinn moved first, charging Sonne. He swung, but the man in blue parried- at the same time, the man in black circled around to strike Quinn's side. Quinn avoided the strike, but only just, and tried to rush Nacht to retaliate. But Sonne darted between them, and Quinn stumbled back to evade a swing from the man in blue.

There was a flash. The world turned grey, but Sonne was still moving. He looked back- Nacht had circled behind him, also moving. Nacht charged, followed by Sonne, and both swung their axes at Quinn…

The world moved forward again. Quinn kept his eyes on Sonne, not wanting to give away that he knew their plan. He had an idea of how to counter the two, but it would be risky. He needed to wait until just the right moment…

Sonne charged. Quinn waited until his opponent began his swing, until diving to the side.

There was a heavy thunk, and the sound of someone choking. Quinn scrambled to his feet.

But it didn't work as he'd hoped. Sonne had hit Nacht, but not the other way around. Still, Sonne had struck a lethal blow, his axe embedded deep in his brother's neck. Sonne stumbled back, horrified, as Nacht's weapon fell from his grasp, and he sank to his knees.

Then Sonne's gaze snapped to Quinn, eyes burning with hatred, and he snatched up Nacht's axe and charged. It was all Quinn could do to stumble back, nearly avoiding the man and blue's wild swing.

"Now look what you made me do!"

Quinn retreated, as Sonne swung furiously at him. His swings were wild and uncoordinated, easily avoided, but prevented Quinn from closing in.

A flash. Sonne drew back his arm, throwing his axe with all his might at Quinn. A big mistake. When the world moved forward, Quinn dodged the thrown axe, and charged at his now unarmed opponent. Quinn pulled back, swinging with all his strength- he couldn't afford to pull any punches here.

He was hit by a warm spray. Sonne cried out as Quinn's axe struck him in the side, just below his ribs. But then Sonne grabbed Quinn by the throat with both hands, lifting him into the air. "You think I need a weapon to kill you!?" he roared.

Quinn didn't think. He simply started swinging at everything within reach. He struck something. He pulled back and hit it again. And again. And again. Sonne's grip finally weakened, and he was dropped to the ground. Gasping, Quinn stumbled to his feet, ready to defend himself.

But there was no need- Sonne lay motionless on the ground in front of Quinn, his face mangled beyond recognition. Cheers erupted from the stands as burly men climbed into the arena to drag the bodies away. Quinn looked around, spotting Aimee and Yonah, their grim expressions standing out in the excited crowd. But there didn't seem to be any sign of Megaera or the Guild's enforcers. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we've truly been graced by a spectacular performance tonight!" he heard the announcer call. "Even I have never seen-"

He stopped. Confused, Quinn looked up- the bald man who led him and the others down to the arena was at the announcer's side, whispering something. The announcer's expression darkened, before he called, "My faithful audience, I think it's time to up the ante for our rising star! What say you, Black Mask? Are you up to the challenge?"

Up the ante? Quinn had no idea what that meant, but he had no choice but to play along until the Guild enforcers were ready to move in. So, though reluctant, he gave the announcer a thumbs-up.

The crowd cheered again, as the gate across from Quinn opened. "For your next opponent…" the announcer began. "Hailing from the frozen south, the meanest dastard on this side of the White Sea, introducing…Hrolf!"

The gate opened, and another man stepped through. He was massive, easily rivaling Mother Agnes in height, completely covered in armor, wearing a helmet resembling a wolf's head. And in his hands was a large, heavy-looking sword that was little more than a rectangular slab of metal, longer than Quinn was tall. A chill ran up Quinn's spine- he had never fought an opponent so heavily armored on the battlefield, at least not without Norn's help.

Hrolf slammed his sword against the arena floor, making the ground shake, and howled like a wild beast. Quinn braced himself. After a moment, the announcer shouted,

" Begin! "

The ground trembled as Hrolf charged, pulling his sword back, over his head. But Quinn charged at the armored man first. He swung first, aiming at the gap between the man's helmet and breastplate… but his aim was too high, and he hit Hrolf's helmet. Quinn's axe bounced off the man's helmet, leaving a gouge in the metal, but it didn't stop Hrolf's swing. Quinn dodged the armored man's swing, ending up behind him. He swung again, striking Hrolf's back, but his blow only left a shallow dent.

Then, there was a flash, and Quinn jumped, over Hrolf's swing. Another flash, and Quinn ducked under the armored man's second swing. He scrambled back, out of Hrolf's range as the crowd roared in excitement. But Quinn was far from relieved at evading his enemy's strikes. He was at a disadvantage, and knew it.

An axe was far from the ideal weapon to use against an armored opponent- thrusting weapons like spears or rapiers were better at piercing through metal. Norn could give him the strength to tear through his opponent's armor… but it would draw too much suspicion. Quinn grit his teeth, regretting not taking up Ingrid's offer to learn swordplay. But it was too late for regrets. His only chance was to strike at Hrolf's joints, where his armor didn't cover.

Quinn tried to circle around to Hrolf's back, but the massive man reached out with blinding speed, and seized Quinn by the throat. Hrolf reared back, before slamming his helmet against Quinn's face. The blow knocked him off his feet, and his weapon from his hands. Quinn staggered back to his feet, spots dancing before his eyes. Something sharp was pressing against his face, just under his eye- Hrolf's headbutt must have dented his mask.

Quinn looked up, to see the armored, standing before him, sword raised.

Quinn didn't think. Norn began to shine a brilliant blue, and black scales erupted across his arms.

But then, there was a heavy thump as Hrolf's sword fell from his hands. Quinn was confused, until Hrolf reached up, and grabbed something. It was… the blade of a sword, jutting out of Hrolf's neck. Then, the blade was yanked back. Hrolf choked, before he staggered, and fell, revealing…

"Gotta be honest, you're not exactly blowing me away here," Megaera said, resting her blade on her shoulder.

Before he could respond, Megaera turned her gaze to the announcer. "The President had a hunch there was an insider. If I were a betting woman, I would've put my suspicions on Director Oldenveldt. But you , Nassau?"

The audience was silent, a few creeping toward the exits. But the man in the golden coat made no attempt to run as he folded his arms over his chest. "That's Director to you."

Glaring, Meg pointed her blade at the announcer. "Two things. First, I don't answer to you. And second, in accordance with Article II, Section III of the Guild charter, any Guild member found complicit in profiteering from unsanctioned activities will be punished by expulsion from the Guild, and the revocation of all rights and privileges bestowed upon them by their rank."

The man looked down at Megaera, indignant. He waited, but nothing happened. "Well?" he finally asked. "Aren't you going to ask why?"

Meg glared. "I don't care about why . You try to deal behind the Guild's back, you pay the price. With your blood, if necessary."

The man in gold grinned. "A shame that you won't live to tell the President about it." He snapped his fingers. The portcullises on both ends of the arena opened, and armed men poured out. Some looked to be arena fighters; others simple ruffians. But there were a lot more of them than there were of Quinn and Meg: at least a dozen, maybe more. He then roared, "Ten thousand marks to the man who brings me the Auditor's head!"

Screams erupted from the stands as the audience scrambled to escape. Meg glanced back at Quinn. "Let's hope you can impress this time, hero."

Quinn glanced at the ground, looking for his axe. He didn't find it. What he did find was… a massive slab of metal, so large that no person should be able to lift it. But there was no time to look for an alternative. He grabbed the blade and lifted it up, Norn's power making it no heavier than a butter knife.

The first man charged Quinn, wielding a spear and a large bronze shield. Quinn swung Hrolf's blade at him. The man raised his shield. It didn't help- it bucked under the force of Quinn's swing, and slammed into the man, knocking him back. Another with a long sword tried to rush him- but Quinn hit him with an overhead swing that didn't slice so much as completely crush the man into the ground, leaving him as a broken heap.

There was a flash. Quinn looked around, to which of the figures was moving, but to his shock, it wasn't one of the figures around him , but Megaera. Meg swung her sword, the man his axe… but the man was faster, slicing through Meg's arm with ease…

When the world moved forward, Quinn turned, batting aside one of the fighters. But it was already too late. The man was already mid-swing, his axe cleaving through her arm.

But with blinding speed, she snatched her own severed arm out of the air with her other hand, and swung it, blade and all, slicing her attacker's neck open with a single stroke.

Quinn batted two fighters aside to clear the way, and covered Megaera's back. "You alright!?" he shouted.

"I hate to say it, but we might be in trouble," Meg replied, her voice low.

Then, Quinn heard Yonah shout, "Kieran! Meg! Hang onto something!"

Quinn looked up- Yonah had sprung up from her seat, and ran to the edge of the arena, a tome in her hands. The inside of her book flashed, and a… hole appeared at the edge of the arena. As soon as it appeared, an overpowering wind filled the cavern, and the arena wall began to buckle inward as it was drawn into that strange hole.

Instantly, one of the fighters was pulled off-balance, and tumbled over the ground toward the hole. He tried to grab everything he passed, but to no avail, his terrified cries instantly silenced when he was pulled through the hole.

Quinn stumbled, and drove Hrolf's blade into the ground, holding onto it with all his might. The other fighters tried to stand against the wind drawing them toward the hole, or drive their blades into the earth as well. But their weapons found no purchase, and they too were pulled into the hole, their screams swiftly silenced as soon as they made contact.

The hole then closed, leaving a perfectly round space in the wall where it had been. Quinn rose to his feet, as did Megaera. The woman in red looked back, stunned, before turning her gaze to Yonah. "The President told me you were skilled with magic, but… she's been seriously underselling you."

Yonah wiped her brow, and grinned down at Meg and Quinn. "Glad I decided to save that one."

Suddenly, the man in gold leapt at Yonah, grabbing her and twisting her arm behind her back, holding a knife to her throat. "Just how many of you interlopers are there!?" the announcer snarled. "Well it doesn't matter! If you do much as breathe at me, and-"

Suddenly, golden chains wrapped around the announcer, before attaching to the surrounding benches. He stood, frozen, his mouth open, but no words emerged. Yonah twisted, and broke free from his grip, hand extended toward the man. "Miss Meg?" she asked. "How much trouble would this guy be in for threatening an Archon?"

Meg didn't answer as she climbed up to Yonah and the announcer. She simply strode up to the man and held her blade up to his neck. She glanced over to Aimee.

Aimee didn't say anything, giving only a subtle shake of her head.

Megaera glared at the announcer one last time, and said, "If we were in Coea, I would hang your head from my belt as a trophy." She finally pulled her blade away from his neck. "But you don't deserve that kind of mercy."

At that moment, two enforcers clad in black climbed up to where Megaera stood. "What kept you?" she asked.

"Apologies, Miss Auditor," one replied. "We attempted to apprehend the escapees. Some managed to slip past us."

"Leave them. I think we've set enough of an example." She pointed her sword at the announcer. "And please escort Mister Nassau back to Guild HQ. He has a lot to answer for."

The gold chains vanished as the two men grabbed the announcer roughly, and dragged him away. Once he was gone, Aimee applauded, and stood up from her bench.

"Alright! Good work, everyone!" she said cheerfully as she approached. "That couldn't have gone more perfectly! We should hire freelancers more often."

Megaera looked down at Aimee. "I don't know what frightens me more about you, Miss President: that you willingly throw yourself into harm's way, or that your half-baked schemes always seem to work out in your favor."

"Oh, you flatterer…" Aimee replied with a sly grin.

Quinn stepped forward, unable to keep silent any longer. "Are… are you gonna be okay?" he stammered as he looked at Meg.

Meg tilted her head. "Huh?" She followed his gaze, and realized what he meant. "Oh, this?" She wiggled her sword, making the arm still clinging to the hilt sway slightly. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

"But-"

Meg drove her blade into the ground and pulled back her sleeve with her remaining hand. Underneath, her right arm was much shorter than her left, abruptly ending at a strange harness attached to her elbow. Quinn must have had a confused expression on his face, because Meg explained, "I lost my arm in a battle years ago. Miss President gave me this prosthetic so I could fight again, in exchange for working for the Guild."

A… fake arm? Quinn never would have guessed. Though as he looked at the hand clinging to Meg's sword, he could see that it more closely resembled a gauntlet than a human hand, the metal glinting in the torchlight. But Quinn shook his head, driving the thought away- as intriguing as it was, there were more pressing concerns. "So, what's gonna happen to that guy you hauled off?" he asked.

Aimee looked at Quinn with a cold expression. "We stuff him in a chest full of gold, chain it shut, sail out into the bay, and then dump him into the ocean."

Quinn's jaw dropped. Yonah seemed equally surprised by Aimee's open brutality.

Aimee eventually broke the stunned silence: "Well. That's what old Johann would've done back in the day. But we're civilized folk nowadays. The Board will decide what happens next."

"So… is that it?" Yonah asked.

"Yep! Well, for you two. Now that there's a new opening on the Board, I have reports to fill, notifications to send out, promotions to give… but you just leave all that to me, 'kay?"

"Once everything has been settled, a Guild representative will approach you and your party," Meg said. "In the meantime, we should be able to spare a few men to escort you back to your ship."

Quinn felt he'd barely laid his head against his pillow when the morning bell rang. He gathered with the others, to find Megaera already waiting for them on the deck. "The President has graciously cleared her schedule to meet with your party in person," she said. "She has asked me to escort your representatives to her office."

Already? Quinn thought. It hadn't even been a full day. Regardless, the vanguard chose their representatives: Uther and Ingrid, along with Quinn and Yonah again, and Megaera led the four through the streets of Vanderijck, to Guild HQ. After climbing countless steps, Meg pushed open the door to Aimee's office and allowed the group inside. Behind the desk sat Aimee, once again wearing glasses, her hair hanging freely to her shoulders.

As they entered, Aimee stood, and extended her hand with a small smile. "Welcome to the Free City of Vanderijck. I'm Aimee, President of the Vanderijck Trade Guild. I trust you've enjoyed your stay so far?"

Uther shook Aimee's hand, the surprise clear on his face. "I'd heard the rumors, but I wasn't expecting the new President to be so… young."

"I assure you, I wouldn't be here if the Board of Directors didn't think I was the best person for the job." Aimee shook Ingrid, Yonah, and Quinn's hands in turn, before returning to her seat. "And I apologize for the delay. We wouldn't normally keep someone of your status waiting, but we had some… internal affairs to deal with." She straightened. "Now, I understand that you, and by extension the Kingdom of Bannon, wish to-"

"…Aimee, I got good news!" a familiar voice called as the office door opened, and… Aimee stepped inside- this Aimee didn't wear glasses, her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes widened in shock; the Aimee sitting at the desk looked equally surprised. The Aimee at the door stepped inside and yanked the door shut behind her. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in a meeting. Meg wasn't standing guard outside."

"Anna?" Yonah asked. "Where were you?"

"Just got back from a meeting with the Board of Directors," Anna replied. "Now that we've gotten rid of our insider and paved the way for them to establish the coliseum, I don't think we'll have any issues giving Bannon the Guild's full support."

Quinn's gaze flicked back and forth between the Aimee behind the desk, and the Aimee at the door. He finally asked the obvious question: "Wait, which one of you is the President?"

"We both are!" Anna said cheerfully. She then held out her hand to Quinn, adding, "I'm Anna, by the way. We've already met, but I didn't introduce myself properly last night."

"Twins…" Ingrid mused. "It would explain the conflicting reports of the President being sighted both in Vanderijck and abroad."

"Yep! It's our secret proprietary technique," Anna replied, crossing the room and standing behind the desk "Aimee handles things at home, while I take care of meetings abroad." Anna leaned forward. "Pretty clever, right?"

"Setting that aside," Uther began, "does this mean-"

"Yep!" Anna said cheerily. "Well, Aimee and I need to draft a formal contract, have it approved by the Board, and send it to your home nation, but as of this moment, the Vanderijck Trade Guild is now a proud partner of the Kingdom of Bannon."

"As a token of goodwill, the Board has agreed to loan you one of the Guild's fastest ships," Aimee added. "We understand that you have business to attend to elsewhere in Aurea."

"That's… very generous of you," Uther said, taken aback. "Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank us- thank him." Anna's gaze turned to Quinn. "His heavy lifting is what made all this possible."

"Really?" Ingrid asked, glancing at Quinn. "I'll be sure to ask him about the details of this… 'heavy lifting.'"

Quinn shuddered. He knew what Ingrid's glare meant.

"We have a crew waiting to transfer your supplies to your new vessel," Aimee continued. "Meg, if you would escort them to the harbor…"

"Right." She stood up straight. "Follow me, please."

The others began to file out of the room. Quinn began to follow, but before he could leave, Anna called "Oh Quinn! Can you hang on for just a second?"

Quinn turned back. He was now alone with Aimee and Anna. "What is it?"

"First off, I wanna thank you for helping us out," Anna replied. "I know we put you on the spot yesterday, but you helped us out of a serious bind."

"Um… no problem." Quinn wasn't sure why she couldn't have said that in front of the others. "Anything else?"

"There is, actually," Aimee replied.

"Another job?" Quinn asked, wary.

"Not a job, per se," Anna said. "More of a… business opportunity." She took a step toward him. "Have you ever thought about doing freelance work?"

"Can't say that I have," Quinn replied, taking a step back.

"You should consider it," Anna said, taking another step forward. Quinn tried to step back again, but his back hit the door.

Before he could move away, Anna put her hands on both sides of his head. "Or, you could be my aide if you prefer something a little more… intense." She leaned in close…

Aimee shot out of her seat. "No you can't!" she cried, her face as red as a beet.

Anna burst out laughing, pulling back. "Aimee, you know I wouldn't do that to you," she said, before turning her attention back to Quinn. "I was being serious, though. The Guild is always looking for talented individuals. And you'd be well-paid for your work. You'd get a much bigger stipend with us than you would with the Order."

Quinn's reply was almost immediate: "No thanks." Money was never an issue for Quinn- the things he wanted he either already had, or were the sort of thing that couldn't be bought.

"Oh can't you at least think about it? You're hurting Aimee's feelings!" "She's crazy about you, you know. Been going on and on about how the two of you would meet, and how you-"

"Anna, stop it! You don't need to tell him that!" Aimee shouted, covering her face in embarrassment.

Quinn had no idea what to do or say. "I… I should go." And before either girl could stop him, he wrenched the office door open and darted into the hall outside. After taking a breath, he asked aloud, "What was that about?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Ingrid said in reply.

Quinn jolted. She was standing opposite the door, arms clasped behind her back, a very unhappy expression on her face. "So," she began, "what did the president want to speak to you about?"

"She tried to recruit me into the Guild. I told her I wasn't interested," Quinn replied.

"I see." Ingrid fell silent. She was quiet as the two of them descended the steps to leave the Guild HQ. In all that time, she wouldn't look Quinn's way. Quinn couldn't remember a time when she had ever been so upset with him.

"Miss Ingrid-" he began.

But Ingrid cut him off. "I'm not upset with you, Quinn, if that's what you were thinking," she said. "As your subordinate, I will support any decisions you make, provided they don't conflict with the Order's interests. I only hope that the next time you choose to act independently, that you not lie to me to my face about it."

Quinn looked away, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. He had lied to Ingrid, the one person who he was supposed to trust above all others. Her disappointment hurt him in ways that her anger never could. There had been something he wanted to ask, but under her withering gaze, he couldn't find it in himself to-

"Ask," Ingrid suddenly said.

"What-?" Quinn asked.

"You want to ask me something. Ask."

It took Quinn a few moments to find the nerve. "A long time ago, you asked me… if I wanted to learn how to wield a sword. Can I… still take you up on that offer?"

Ingrid didn't answer.

Quinn waited.

Ingrid still didn't answer.

Quinn began to turn away-

"If you're serious," Ingrid began, "then I expect you to obey my instructions to the letter. We don't have any time for slacking, or for being gentle- I won't hold anything back, and I expect you to show the same to me. Are we clear?"

Quinn nodded. "Yes, Miss Ingrid."

"Ow… agh… nngh…"

Quinn let out a pained groan with every step as he limped to the bow of the vanguard's new ship. As soon as their supplies were loaded, and the rest of the vanguard was onboard, Ingrid had pulled Quinn aside to begin his sword training. His first lesson hadn't borne much fruit. In fact, Ingrid had spent most of the lesson beating him senseless with a wooden sword. It was clear she was upset, regardless of what she said to him. He could only hope that now that she'd gotten her frustrations out, that he could begin learning in earnest.

He reached the bow. Instantly, something was… off. He spotted a familiar figure in a red coat, taking a few swings of her sword. She looked down at her right arm and muttered, "Huh. Heavier than the old one. This'll take some getting used to."

"Megaera?" Quinn asked, limping over to her. "What are you still doing here?"

Meg looked over. "Aimee and Anna didn't tell you? I'm gonna be traveling with you all. President's orders."

"Aren't you their bodyguard, though?" Quinn asked.

"Aimee insisted. Wants to make sure nothing happens to her golden boy while he's away." She reached into her coat and pulled out a green bottle, before taking a drink from it. "Besides, those two have always had a knack for weaseling their way out of trouble. They'll be fine without me for a little while."

With a pained breath, Quinn sat down next to Megaera. The woman looked Quinn up and down briefly, before saying, "Rough day?"

"I was training with Miss Ingrid," he replied. "Wanted to learn how to use a sword."

Meg took another drink. "I saw. I'm surprised you can stand up after the thrashing she gave you."

Quinn let out a pained breath. Meg noticed, and held out the bottle out to Quinn. "Here. It'll help with the pain."

Quinn looked, but didn't take it. "You sure?"

Meg narrowed her good eye at Quinn. "Come on, one drink isn't going to kill you."

Quinn looked at the bottle, before taking it, and taking a swig. He retched almost the moment the liquor touched his tongue. It was overwhelmingly bitter. Meg scrunched her face, trying to suppress a laugh, before saying, "I take it you're not a fan."

"I can't believe this is what the men back home looked forward to at the end of the day," he said, looking down at the bottle before handing it back to Meg.

"You're still a child," she said, taking a long swig. "You'll appreciate it when you're older."

"I think I'd rather skip over that part of adulthood." The liquor burned Quinn's throat, but the heat faded, replaced by a steady warmth that spread through his body. He hated to admit it, but he did actually feel better. Though it hadn't completely numbed the pain, it was much duller now.

"I suppose that's fair," Meg said, taking another drink. "You're only young for so long, after all."

A silence settled between the two, before Quinn turned. "I should get myself to our healer. And, I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do on the battlefield."

"You too," Meg replied. "Just uh… don't get yourself killed out there. I don't want to be the one to break the bad news to Aimee."

Quinn limped away. Meg watched him until he was out of earshot, then said to herself, "Honestly, just what does she see in someone like that?"

"Hmm…" Yonah sat on a small stool in front of a small round table. On it rested a checkered board, with a number of white and black pieces laid out on it. "Maybe-"

The floor creaked as someone walked across the cabin next door. Then, the door to Yonah's cabin squeaked open, and Quinn looked inside, bags under his eyes.

Yonah looked up at the door. "Oh. Hey Kieran."

"Yonah…" he said blearily. "Could you try keeping it down? It's late."

"Oh. Sorry. I guess the walls are thinner here than back in the Abbey."

Quinn noticed the board. "What are you doing?"

"Playing shako against myself. I've always had a hard time falling asleep. This helps sometimes."

Shako? Quinn had never heard of it before. But the board resembled the one in Aimee and Anna's office. Back in Grimhold, the other workers would sometimes talk about games they played, though Quinn never played himself- he never had the free time. So, despite his exhaustion, he couldn't deny his curiosity. "How do you play it?"

Yonah's eyes lit up. "You wanna play? I mean… it would be easier to show you. Why don't we play a game together?"

Quinn was surprised, but he entered the cabin and grabbed another stool- lifting it so it didn't scrape against the floor- and set it in front of the table. "Sure."

Yonah rearranged the board so only two lines of small pieces remained, setting all the black pieces on her side, and the white ones on Quinn's. "Each game of shako begins with each player placing their pieces. You can put them on any space behind your line of pawns. The player with white pieces goes first. So, you'd start by putting a piece on the board."

"Um…" Quinn looked at all the pieces, before picking one and placing it on the board. "I guess I'll start with this one."

"That's a Chariot. It can move any number of spaces in a straight line." Yonah picked up a piece and placed it on her side. "This one's a Cavalier. It moves in an L-shape, and it can jump over any pieces in its way…"

…

Yonah slid one of her pieces across the board. "Checkmate."

Quinn perked up. "Huh? What does that mean? Did I lose?"

"Remember earlier when I said you can't move your Lord to a space where your opponent could capture it?" Yonah asked. "Right now, there aren't any spaces you can move your Lord to where they wouldn't be captured. So, yeah. You lost."

Quinn looked at the board- as Yonah said, his Lord was completely boxed in. With a sigh, he leaned in and said, "This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"If you try to move pieces at random, you won't get far. Shako's all about trying to predict what the other player will do," Yonah replied. "Don't feel too bad, though. I've played this game for a long time. I'm really good at it."

Quinn yawned, and stood up. "Well, I think I'm gonna head back to bed. You?"

Yonah sighed. "Not yet, sorry. I think I'll be awake for a little while longer."

Quinn headed for the cabin door. "Well, just keep it down. There's people other than me here."

Yonah didn't respond. Quinn looked back, to see her rearranging the pieces on the board, seemingly lost in thought.

"Uh… good night, Yonah," Quinn said.

Again, Yonah didn't answer.

Yonah: The last Archon to be fleshed out. Before the revision, she was one of the Sisters, and thus female, but after the revision, she became a male, named Yugo. But after a while, I decided to shift her back to being female so the Archons would have a more balanced gender ratio. Yonah was in a position similar to that of Isaac, in that for a long time, she existed only as a name. Eventually though, I took elements of her appearance from Edna from Tales of Zestiria, and Namine from Kingdom Hearts. The name Yonah comes from the character of the same name in Nier; she's the only Archon aside from Quinn to break the trend of having a name beginning with a vowel, because I couldn't find a female name that began with a U that I liked. Her characteristic of being bad with names was a late addition, derived from Finch of Xenoblade 2 and her memory problems. She does retain one aspect from her original character: her love of board games, expressed in her skill in shako, a sort of combination of chess and Stratego. Yonah doesn't quite fit into any archetype, though as a magic prodigy, the Linde would be closest. If she were to have a voice actor, it would be Melissa Fahn.

Yonah's Ring of Power is named Gordius, derived from the mythical Gordian knot. It's ability to paralyze a target was inspired by the Stasis ability from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, right down to the target being bound in ethereal golden chains. Though unlike Stasis, Gordius's effects are continuous so long as Yonah keeps her focus on her target.

Megaera: The very last "playable" character added to the cast. Meg was initially inspired by Guilty Gear's Baiken, in both appearance and in her role as a one-armed swordswoman, but over time, these elements would be greatly reduced, and her current state owes more to Auron from Final Fantasy X. Initially, she was to appear in the position now held by Lycurgus, though I ended up moving her to another part of the story as well. Her name was taken from one of the Furies of Greek mythology, reflecting her Doric heritage in-story. Archetype-wise, though female, she has a bit more in common with the Ogma archetype than the Ayra archetype, being a hired mercenary who joins the main cast at the behest of her employer. If she had a voice actress, it would be Cindy Robinson.

Anna and Aimee: As a Fire Emblem story, Anna was bound to make an appearance. She was initially planned to be a member of the main cast, but I wasn't able to find a satisfactory way to have her join the others, so I decided to keep her as a secondary character who nevertheless plays a significant role in the story. The idea of making Anna one of a set of twins was a late one, and was supposed to be a reference to the many merchants in the games that share Anna's name and appearance. The name of Anna's sister, "Aimee" was taken from another recurring merchant in the series, appearing most prominently in Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn. As always, the two would be voiced by Karen Strassman.

Free City of Vanderijck: The Free City of Vanderijck was inspired in equal measures by both Amsterdam (as a city with incredibly lax laws) and Port Royal (as a city founded by pirates). I'm not quite sure where the name came from, but I liked it enough to run with it. The Vanderijck Trade Guild was inspired by the historical Dutch East India Company, and the British East India Company, as a corporation with enough influence to effectively be a nation in its own right.