Strange violin, why do you follow me?
In how many foreign cities did you
speak of your lonely nights and those of mine.
Are you being played by hundreds? Or by one?
Do in all great cities men exist
who tormented and in deep despair
would have sought the river but for you?
And why does your playing always reach me?
Why is it that I am always neighbor
to those lost ones who are forced to sing
and to say: Life is infinitely heavier
than the heaviness of all things.
-Rainer Maria Rilke, "The Neighbor"
To be in love with the craft of music—it was the only thing she had ever found true solace in.
Yes, she relished in her duties as Hand of the Queen, a new position created by Queen Garnet, who had appointed her. Many of the royals and even her parents were duly impressed by her perfect manners, her tact, her charm, and her quiet, contemplative nature. When she had been a small girl, she would often blurt out words of wisdom during meetings, when no one expected a peep from her (and usually, she never did make a peep at all). She could vividly remember the expressions her parents held—her father blue in the face, crossed, ready to strike her, and her mother quite clearly in the camp of "pleasantly bewildered". It was when she turned 16 that Garnet told her she had found "the perfect job" for the young Leopoldine, and the oldest of the Steiner girls had took it in stride.
But music had always been her first love, and potentially her only true love. At the age of three, as soon as she could talk and reach the keys, Beatrix sought out to teach her toddler piano, a skill that the paladin had learned as a young girl and fostered throughout her life. Leopoldine funneled all her energy and fascination into this craft, and soon she needed a teacher better than Beatrix that could help her develop her skillset. Soon, she mastered piano and moved onto the violin, and then other instruments. She was once offered recruitment into a famous orchestra in Lindblum, but she did not want to leave her beloved kingdom.
So, she became hand of the queen. But that never deterred Leopoldine from keeping up with her treasured craft. She often sat practicing in her room, the most with violin as of late, gently pressing to the strings one by one, feeling those cherished vibrations in her fingers, the blissful sounds of the strings being played in harmony with each other, the climax of the grand finale of a tune, all things that moved her on a spiritual level. It was not uncommon for Leopoldine to get lost in her music, to get lost in the sensations that in brought about in her body—the rapturous abyss, the washing away of reality, allowing her to slough off the stress of her daily works.
Leopoldine had been practicing her violin, as she felt she had neglected it far too much in the passing days. With the instruments, with her music, she felt that she could truly let go and be who she really was, which was not something that she felt was easy to do when she was in the public eye. It was forbidden that anyone enter her room while she occupied it unless a dire emergency was at hand—which was why she was broke out of her bliss zone and brought back down to reality with a large crash when someone knocked on the door. Swiftly, she took her bow from the strings, noises stopped, dropping the tool in shock. She scrambled to pick it back up before muttering, rather angrily, "Well if you must, do come in…"
The door opened slowly and the first thing Leopoldine spotted was Lady Eiko's straight, thick, shoulder length purple hair and lone horn, slowly tracking down to her expression, which was that of the biggest, cheesiest toothy grin Leopoldine thought she had ever seen. The lady regent was dressed in an extravagant gown of deep purple, having magnificent yellow and pink accents throughout, her long, pointed fingers decked out in various rings, and a broad, intricate, multi-faced diamond necklace gleaming across her collarbones. The necklace shone brilliantly upon the stiffened features of her face, which were in every sense ironic, because she was such a carefree type of spirit. Leopoldine had deduced it was because her adoptive mother, Lady Hilda, had bore much of the same sour expression, but perhaps it was simply genetic, as she could see the same in Garnet's line.
"Goodness!" Leopoldine blurted out nervously as Eiko stepped into her room without much notice, folding her arms over her obviously exposed bust. Leopoldine made a move to put her violin and bow away into its case. "I was not expecting Your Grace at this hour, as I assumed you took leave for Lindblum already. If you'll excuse my discretion in vulgarity…"
Eiko shrugged her shoulders in response, eliciting a blush from Leopoldine. "I am interested to see you in states where you are not so guarded, Lea."
Leopoldine glanced down at her shoes and then out of her large window opposite her, unsure of what to say, blushing evermore zealously. It was no secret to her that Eiko had aroused an incredible nervousness in every bone of her tiny body. Eiko scoffed silently and walked over to the window, at once turning back around to face the young woman, late morning light spilling in from behind her back, causing for a halo of glow to encase her entire frame.
"I-Is there something that you require of me, Y-Your Highness?" Leopoldine spluttered, a bit incredulous at what was transpiring between the two of them. The regent nodded her head, stepping closer to where Leopoldine sat.
"Why yes, in fact there is, which is the very reason I have come to your room at this time!" Eiko answered, a lead of something slightly mischevious in her voice. Leopoldine began to feel herself sweat.
She continued, "You are the appointed Hand of the Queen, correct? Well I have a bit of a job for you, starting at the beginning of next week. I would like for you to travel to Lindblum for a diplomatic mission."
Leopoldine's head perked upwards, and she fixed her sitting position as she noticed that she had began to slouch, watching the words roll insufferably slowly from Eiko's pink lips.
"A diplomatic mission? And what might that entail?"
"Oh, there are just some nobles who are a little bit skeptical of our alliance with Alexandria, being that many of them have not yet forgiven the current queen for her mother's actions against the nation. But I feel confident you will be able to charm the knickers off of them, if you do so please."
Leopoldine's face scrunched up confusion, trying to recall why exactly she would be the best candidate. A heavy breeze shot through the window, causing for Eiko's hair to tousle up in a frenzy, appearing as if she had just woken up. The young woman felt evermore strange as time passed between the two of them.
"I still do not quite conceive of why I am…the primary candidate that came to the forefront of your mind, Your Majesty," Leopoldine finally spoke, the truest confusion present in her ruby-tinged, large brown eyes. Eiko's own sapphire blues sparked.
"What, did you believe that I would ask Queen Garnet to leave her throne for this type of work?"
Leopoldine relented, "No, no, of course I did not think of that—
"Then what is the problem? Will you go?"
The regent's eyes shined so very brightly and vigorously that Leopoldine believed herself blinded for a moment.
"Um…yes, yes Your Majesty, I will attend to matters in Lindblum of diplomatic nature, surely," Leopoldine finally answered, scratching her head in a mixture of confusion and what she recognized as excitement. "But I must ask, if you would allow me to do so…why are the nobles feeling the sting of revulsion after all this time?"
Eiko sauntered up to her, gradually getting closer and closer to Leopoldine's face. She could smell Leopoldine's perfume in the breeze that infiltrated the entire room.
"Eh, the next generation is getting ideas about some things that happened to their parents. Nothing that you will not be able to smooth over, I think, Lady Lea," Eiko said as she brushed off the young hand's concerns, and stood above her, tall and forceful next to her tiny, seated body. Leopoldine began to feel rather uncomfortable and shifted herself slightly so that her legs were now crossed, a gesture of irritation.
"I-Is there anything else you require of me, Your Grace?" Leopoldine asked the regent, stimulating a look of disappointment from Eiko, who held her hands out, then clapped them together, and paired with a suppressed smile, it was clear that her business was finished in this arena. Leopoldine tugged at her wishes no further, and stood up to escort the woman out of the room, holding her arm out and bowing as Eiko passed her. The older woman suddenly pivoted sharply in the door frame.
"The Hilda Garde 5 will be here to pick you up and fly you to the castle at 7 a.m. sharp on Wednesday. Please leave your affairs arranged!"
In her classic chipper fashion, Eiko did a sort of mini-skip as she pranced away, leaving the hand to watch her ruefully as she noisily made her way down the corridor and out of sight. Leopoldine then shut her door quietly, and leaned against it, hand on her heart, eyes wide and hard on the dark wood of her floor, the flush still present on her skin.
"What…in God's name…was that?"
"You must never present an opening for the enemy to see…never a weakness!"
The seasoned General of Alexandria had very specific codes in training her soldiers, so that they might become the best in the land. This was a very important prospect for the army, since one never knew when war was to hit. With some of the happenings and whispers about town as of late, Alexandria wasn't exactly in the best foreign policy position, globally. The next generation had grown up and taken their own seats of power after many retirements, and many of them were angry. They had not forgotten, nor would they, what had happened to their parents and grandparents.
This was part of Fredryck's problem. While on the surface his parents appeared to have forgiven the general for her heinous acts, it was clear that the young adults in Burmecia were not so easy to forgive. The question often was, "why is Queen Garnet still on the throne? Why was she on the throne at all?"
They did not understand that nothing that transpired was her fault in the slightest, but because she shares the grand surname, she was, of course to blame. And Beatrix had not avoided the fire; she had hardly been able to slough off the majority of the scathing criticism in the many passing years.
Fredryck positioned himself against the Eastern Barrack wall, where Lilia's squad kept their quarters. Lilia glanced over at him after missing in a swing at her mother. Quick as she was, she did not quite possess the dexterity that her mother did.
He was blanketed in shade, his beige hat laying low on his brow, arms and legs crossed in a gesture of stubborn restraining, his gargantuan, heavy lance at rest in his right hand. Lilia could feel his red hot glare from underneath his disguise. Beatrix realized what her daughter was preoccupied with, and snapped her fingers multiple times.
"Now, Lilia. You must focus! Do not worry on Fredryck; he is supposed to be learning skills from your father. I suspect he shall be looking for him right about now…"
Lilia refocused herself, and placed herself in fighting stance. She charged at her mother with a robust roar, going in for a diagonal chest slash, which her mother easily blocked and retaliated from with a sincere upward jut towards Lilia's throat, which she, in turn, blocked just as easily with a vertical sword hilt thrust. Lilia countered with a spin to dodge her mother's next lunge, and made a play to swing at the left side of her neck, which Beatrix ducked to avoid. Lilia jumped backwards and swung her sword around in a circular motion, before angrily and hastily charging at her mother with the intent to perform an overhead strike, and before coming down to complete the blow, she felt something jam itself proudly into her gut, winding her.
"Urgh!"
The young knight rolled to the ground, wheezing and hacking, holding her torso, tears forming. She reluctantly peered at her mother's singular eye, defeated. Beatrix stepped over to her slowly, and jammed the tip of her blade into the ground, resting on the legendary Save the Queen. Her expression was that of gentle, certain understanding. Lilia made a point to look over at Fredryck, but he had already departed from the scene.
"Darling, I've told you not to charge at your opponent in a fit of rage. You almost always miss the opponent's opportunity, and if they're a fit warrior, they will strike you and you will surely fall."
Lilia spit indignantly onto the ground, looking as if she were about to retch up the contents of her breakfast.
"Remember…calm, collected precision always comes out on top. It is something both your father and I had to learn in the stern nature of our training," Beatrix recalled, searching the horizon for his form, or the sound of his clanking. "But come to think of it, he never really did understand that concept until much later on, but alas…"
Lilia threw a gauntleted hand up in the air and waved her off before stumbling to her feet, resting at once on her broadsword, and breathing heavily. Beatrix's face hardened at her daughter's attempt to ward off her advice.
"You are never going to master the skills needed to become a leader if you do not heed my counsel," Beatrix noted, prompting a sneer from her daughter. "Do not start this today, or you will be dismissed!"
"I'm just tired of you and father coddling me. Can't you two just treat me like any other soldier?"
Beatrix held out her arms, shaking her head.
"We can certainly do that, but you then must relinquish your royal privileges, as we have once advised you do at the start," Beatrix replied, now becoming short in temper with the self-aggrandizing young woman. Beatrix felt that Lilia was becoming more and more like her father every day. Lilia did not appear to take kind to this idea, and after spitting once more onto the grass of the training grounds, lifted herself up back into posture, motioning for the older woman to ready herself.
"Think not on it right now, mother. I do not wish to parley, so let us only fight!"
Beatrix sighed and nodded her head in consent, "As you wish."
The two sustained in their training, clashing swords for a few minutes before Lilia got knocked down again by the harsh, swift moves. It was clear that her mother's swordsmanship still had her oppressed. Lilia screamed in frustration, throwing her sword to the ground.
"I will never amount to your greatness! The frustration! So much for a prodigy!" Lilia fussed, on the verge of tears. Beatrix lowered he sword and placed her left hand on her hip.
"Your behavior today is unsanctionable. I command you to lay down your sword," Beatrix ordered, fed up with her daughter's attitude. "Go clean yourself up and get ready for dinner."
Then, there it was. That one thing that reminded her most of Steiner. The stubborn glimmer in her unique emerald eyes made itself transparent to her, and Lilia made a motion of picking up her sword. The girl grunted into a scream, and the Alexandrian winds threw her dark brown hair into whirlwind around her head, a murky, iridescent orange cloud surrounding her broadsword. Instantly, her eyes glowed red and turned to slits, her muscles plumping up, ready to pounce. Before Beatrix could register what was occurring, Lilia dashed at her with incredible speed and force.
Beatrix was still far too skilled even in her middle age, and Lilia was no match even in an elevated state of being. Beatrix dodged the attack and struck her in the back, letting her fly twenty feet away, landing on the hard concrete of the opposite side of the training court. Lilia lay motionless for a moment, before managing to support her weight on her arms in an attempt to rectify her stance, but she fell back on the ground, absolutely no verve left in her long, powerful body. Beatrix strode over slowly, and knelt down next to her to whisper disdainfully in her ear.
"Climhazzard? Lilia, you know that this move is forbidden in the junior ranks, and for good reason. Where on Gaia did you learn about this skill?!"
Lilia stirred slightly before answering in raspy, spent speech.
"I…I stole father's Excalibur. The one…you two keep in your room. The sword…had spoken…to me…and told me how…I shall accomplish greatness…to learn…true power…"
She made an unsavory hacking noise before coughing up copious amounts of blood onto the concrete. Beatrix glared hard at her before helping her up and then letting her go to fend for herself.
"Go. Cleanse yourself of grime and those ideas with it—you are certainly finished for today," Beatrix spat in her merciless general's tone, flipping her hair. "Your father and I will have a little tête-à-tête about this later! Away with you!"
Lilia groaned in her utter defeat, the snickers of soldiers from the other squad reaching her ears as she hobbled up the path to the castle. She knew that they hated her—but she was their superior and should not have been laughing at her at all.
"What perfect timing…" Lilia thought to herself, sticking her snake-like tongue out at them, but it only stirred up more mirth from the women.
"Move along, soldiers!" Beatrix scolded angrily at the clique of blonde foot soldiers, and they all scrambled away in trepidation, but Lilia could still overhear their muffled laughter even as they rounded the corner. She continued on in her weak state until she felt a washing of tranquility come over her. An azure light emanated from her being, thinning out with glimmering halos of golden ringed light. In moments, she was completely restored, though still a bit fatigued. She looked down at her body in amazement, all her cuts and scrapes gone, the pain in the pit of her stomach dissolved. She twirled around gratefully, ready to thank her mother for healing her, before finding herself struck cripplingly with another icy blue light, except this light was brutal in its power to make her feel like her body was being pieced apart, and made her feel twice as horrible as she felt even before she got a dose of Beatrix's Cura. This spell didn't throw her as did Save the Queen, however, her muscles seized, paralyzed. Her knees grew incredibly weak at this moment, and she fell to them, head spinning wildly from the power of Holy.
"Now this is the powerful magic you should wish to attain soon, if you can rid yourself of that wretched insolence," Beatrix commented, simpering at the unequaled prowess she still projected in her holy and curative magic spells. "Now you may proceed, away. No Cura this time."
Lilia's mouth twitched slightly, drool seeping out of the corners, but she somehow found enough energy to lift herself off of her knees and drag her body and broadsword back up to her room in the castle, when she would make a novelty of slumber for the rest of the evening.
Beatrix flouted her husband's inquires about where she was at supper.
"It is certain that we have enough intel now to speak on the matter," Leopoldine started, marching into the castle conference room, waving papers in the air. When she held a policy meeting, she meant business. "Are we all quite ready to proceed with the meeting?"
Everyone at the long oak table nodded. Leopoldine positioned herself at the head and spread out her papers strategically. Gathered around her were Zidane, Garnet, Beatrix, Steiner, Lilia, and Lilia's army superiors, both of who irritated her unreasonably.
There was Major General Alexya Goldbloom, a brutally ruthless warrior, but one that possessed a demeanor similar to Leopoldine in that she was perfectly mannered and unbelievably unshakable. Beatrix had recognized the girl as somewhat of a prodigy when she had joined the army, and took her in as an apprentice of sorts. She was not cocky, she was not proud, but was respected by all. Even Lilia found that deep in her heart of hearts, she feared this girl, knowing that she was likely the better fighter. Alexya looked over at Lilia, and smiled at her graciously. Lilia did not respond in kind, and glanced over at Diana Wood, Beatrix's third in command, and Lieutenant General of the Army.
This was the woman that Lilia truly despised. The woman, probably only a few years older than herself, held this optimistic and sunny disposition, but when she was on the battlefield she was a juggernaut of a force to be reckoned with. Many opponents would laugh at her stature and personality, the look about her when she skips onto the battlefield. Eventually, they would be sorry they had challenged such a fast swordsman in the first place. Even Beatrix could not match her speed and deftness.
Diana did not smile at Lilia, however. She never smiled at Lilia. She and Lilia were thought to be sworn enemies. She pretended to be preoccupied in what Leopoldine was outlining about present circumstances, but really she kept a very watchful eye on Lilia's every move. Lilia glared at her face while in profile; Diana caught it.
"I regret to inform you that this minor 'resistance' has unfortunately escalated, Your Highness," Leopoldine started, still reviewing the papers. "I have, however, gathered intelligence on what they are doing and why they are doing it."
She shifted her weight onto her other foot, and peered up at Zidane and Garnet, who exchanged glances at this information.
"This may not be so easy to hear. Shall I go on?" Leopoldine asked the two, receiving a nod in return from Garnet. "The information I have received was sought out by various, trustworthy sources. First, this group is supposedly christened 'The Black Rose Warriors', and the name is probably a reference to the kingdom's royal insignia."
"There is no doubt concerning what it stands for. I have deduced that myself when spotting the tattoo on the streets," Beatrix interjected.
"I, too, have spotted these symbols appearing on the forearms of various perpetrators," Steiner commented, looking over to Alexya for verification. Alexya nodded in confirmation that she had seen them. She turned for the large window located in the room.
"We haven't had many casualties because of the attacks, but I can tell you for certain…trouble is brewing. And when they decide they want to strike, we will want our manpower to be ready."
Lilia decided to chime in here, "But what is their goal in resistance of the throne? With Garnet being the most gracious, kind ruler we have had in decades…"
The young girl looked to her parents for support in reasoning, but they remained silent, unbothered by her. Leopoldine shook her head.
"Alas, this is not about what our current crown has or has not done," Leopoldine corrected her sister, who huffed at the rebuttal. Leopoldine met gazes with Diana, "This is about Her Majesty's predecessors…and about the current army leaders and what they see as inept discretion on their part. Many people are still quite upset over how their ancestors were killed, their homes destroyed."
"But Alexandria has done everything they can in reparations to other countries—and as far as I know, neither rulers have any problem with our current regime—
"I get it now. They're looking for vengeance. That is not something some friendly charity work can fulfill," Lilia deduced, cutting off Diana, who seethed at the sound of the young major.
"Would you be quiet for a moment, please, Lilia? We still need to hear from the General and Captain, respectively…" Leopoldine said, scolding her younger sister, who proceeded to submit.
"What can possibly be done to rectify the situation that has not already been done? We have performed the necessary reparations…the charity work…surely…what do they require of us?" Steiner contemplated in a tone that did not match his usual manner of speaking. His eyes projected the doubt cast in his soul, and he searched his wife's expression for solace. As usual, Beatrix was still introspective. She betrayed no sign of affectation to her husband, daughters, soldiers or queen. Steiner was, however, able to pick out the nuances in her body language, and watched her right fist clench and tremble.
"My actions in Burmecia at the beginning of my career are at least partly to blame," Beatrix stated, resolutely. Steiner moved toward her to comfort her in he perceptions, but she shook him off.
Beatrix addressed her two most trusted warriors, "Alexya. Diana, Lilia. I must hear your thoughts, your plans."
Diana chimed in first, Lilia bearing her chagrin.
"M'am! I believe we must make a pre-emptive strike against all traitors of the throne!"
She saluted at Beatrix with a hand to her chest. Beatrix expected a reply from Alexya. She, however, was not so quick to answer, and gave some time to herself to think it over.
"…I think that we should wait. See what it is they are planning," She finally answered, facing her general, nodding. "I think that we should plant eyes and ears everywhere, just so that we know of their plans ahead of time. That way, we can go about this in a manner that will allow for both strategic offense and defense, instead of random arrests and unnecessary slaughter."
It had become quite clear why Alexya was Major General—it was because she had adopted Beatrix's clear-headedness, something her youngest daughter did not possess. Diana cast a sneer in Lilia's direction, to which Lilia felt the need to chime in.
"Why must you always look at me in such a way?"
"Why must you always interrupt every important manner just to give your own jibe?" Diana asked cooly, her bright blue eyes darkening considerably.
"Enough!" Beatrix shouted, and both girls halted to her request in salute. "This is not the time to bicker. This is the time to be united, to be like-minded so that we may band together and find solutions!"
"It is true, division on the inside will surely spell out death for each and every one of us," Alexya added as she walked around the table, hands behind her back, red cape fluttering. She stepped up with Leopoldine and spoke rather quietly to her.
"What is it that is going through your mind, wise one?"
Alexya had always liked Leopoldine, perhaps a little too much. The young woman betrayed a flush for a moment, before turning to her queen to speak on her opinion.
"I do quite agree with Alexya's proposal. I think it is better to hold ourselves back from expending soldiers and creating casualties in the name of a better strategy."
"Who will be our eyes and ears, then?" Garnet asked. Zidane grinned in his usual positivity, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"We already have inside guys, of course! Blank, Marcus, Ruby, The Boss, Freya, Bentley…hell, we can even get Zerrick and Fredryck in on this! We would have ears and eyes everywhere, in all kingdoms!"
Garnet nodded. "I think it would be wise to at least inform everyone of resistance activities, so they may keep an eye out. Otherwise, I would not want to start a panic for something that may just be minor and dissolve within a few months."
"I cannot concede to that, Your Highness," Leopoldine interjected, "I do not believe this to be a matter of minor concern. This resistance has appeared to go about their business unnoticed, but if my sources are to be trusted, the plans in development are hardly small, random attacks…they have many large-scale works at hand, I fear…"
The young woman again examined her parents' faces for some sort of approval, Steiner evidently vexed by the seriousness of the conversation at hand, while Beatrix stared at out the large window and remained stone-faced and silent. Garnet noticed Bearix's demeanor and fell concerned.
"Have you nothing to say, Beatrix? Usually there is some sort of insight present within you…"
The general snapped out of her daze, feeling her hands begin to shake once more with acute fear.
"I believe…" Beatrix began, unsure of what to say without giving away that she knew more than they did, "We should treat the matter very seriously, not only by informing the army, but by sending out notice to friends and civilians alike. The more aware we are as a nation, the more protections we possess."
Steiner nodded his head, grabbing one of her hands underneath the edge of the table, only to assure himself that she was trembling. Beatrix pulled her hand away in protest, not wishing for him to understand her dilemma.
"I concur…" Steiner said, trailing off as he realized something was wrong, despite Beatrix's efforts to hide it from him. Leopoldine caught wind of this interaction, but chose to ignore it.
"It is set, then. Alexya, Diana and Lilia—you shall inform your squadrons of the situation at hand," She ordered before turning to the queen. "And shall I inform all other parties?"
Zidane and Garnet agreed in unison. There was a mutual consent of murmuring to end the council session, and Beatrix was the first to take her sword in hand, and leave the room. All of her soldiers followed, until the only people left in the conference room were Leopoldine and the king and queen. Leopoldine gathered all her things and was about to exit herself, when she turned around to address the queen.
"I do believe, Your Grace, that it would be wise to look into further reparations for your mother's damages," she stated, a bit gravely, before moving outside.
The horns sounded.
The boys knew they had no choice but to rise, from their nooks, their holes, their modest riches, their modesty, covered in dirt, covered in fine silks, covered in rings. Some kissed their rings ad their women, unsure if they would ever come home to their wives again.
The counter-resistance, Alexander's Angels, was teeming with patriotic loyalists to the Alexandrian Throne, that they almost outnumbered the army in their cause. Most of the members were gentlemen, many of them aligned with Blank and Marcus, spanning through Lindblum and beyond, yet some of them were women of the town, raising their eyes and their hopes to the great General Beatrix, a bastion of strong female leadership and empowerment. It was only fitting that there would be women to help lead in such a movement, as Alexandria was a true matriarchy, having doctrines that set women in the greatest amount of power.
For now, however, it was all about the boys. Where the women ruled in plain daylight, imparting their wisdom, their warmth, their compassion and righteousness, the men did their work, dirty in the night, stepping strong on the streets. Alexandrian men didn't differ much from the Lindblumese in that all loved a good brawl and had at least a small penchant for violence—but here and now, it has been in the name of the Queen Garnet, a wholly worthy cause.
Blank, Bentley, and Marcus were each prepared, and had been waiting for the horns to blow as the days went past. And upon hearing the intricate waves of the battle cry, they knew what must be done.
"The only thing to be done now is to kill as many of the bastards as possible," Blank told his son, throwing him a broadsword and then meeting him with a shoulder clap, "Not a long term solution, but it will stave them off long enough so they can't break into the castle or destroy any royal property."
"The main goal is to find who is leading this stupid group so that we can live our lives in peace again! Without their advisor, they have no vigor, no chance to try their luck," Marcus noted, nodding over at his longest friend.
Blank eyed Marcus wearily, then shook his head calmly, "The leader won't be obvious. He won't be fighting in plain sight. He will be hiding somewhere, counseling the fighters on how to behave and what strategies they need to cause as much of a stir as possible."
"Ugh, sometimes information like this just makes it seem futile, dad! Don't distract—let us press on!" Bentley insisted, beckoning the two older men forward. Blank stopped him before he could go, lifting his head just enough so that his son could see his mild blue eyes underneath the belt over his head.
"Bentley, listen to me. You need to be careful. Sometimes you need to know when to fight and when to retreat. Please exercise wisdom in the battles you choose. You're so young…"
Blank was never a fan of the idea of his 18 year old son joining in the revolution, but he was an adult now, and could do as he pleased. He had never seen a man feel so much love and fierce loyalty to the throne—and just as well, his best friends were royals. It would have been akin to sacrilege to prevent him in participation. He was never the army type, only wishing to protect his friends.
Bentley understood the concern in his father's visage, and grabbed the back of his head, both men pulling in a close head-to-head embrace.
"Don't worry, dad. I got this," Bentley whispered, holding up his arm to display his own tattoo, the mark of Alexander's Angels. It was a simple tattoo, with large white wings, wide open, ready for its infamous protection, surrounded by a turquoise blaze. Blank affirmed his consent upon seeing this, and watched momentarily as Bentley and Marcus ran off together, shortly following them. The three men dashed through the alleyways in which they were hiding, meeting out with collaborators along the way and making their way to town square in small groups. Hard footsteps could be heard echoing through the town as they made their way past many women, children, and families, all of whom were wont to seek cover from the riots. Bentley set his sights on getting to the square in time, but he couldn't help but catching glimpses of their face in passing. Seared into his brain had been the sheer terror of a disastrous outcome, of those whom they would lose next.
He shifted off balance, and gulped. He was brought to a halt at the square, nearly crashing into terrified bystanders. He had to shift through people much smaller than him and even push a few aside to get to the center of the action. Once there, he noted swords and daggers in action, a blur of people swinging at each other, unclear who belonged to what faction.
"The tattoos," he thought to himself before spotting a man with a black rose on his forearm and jumping into the fray to attack him.
Blank himself steeled himself for battle, until he spotted a few men targeting the Alexandrian soldiers who attempted to barricade the dock. Blank immediately understood their motives. With this, he bypassed the crowd, jumping over a few dead bodies, knowing that one of the soldiers was about to make a wrong move and be killed for it. In intervention, he jumped between the young female solider and the young gentlemen in rebellion, and clashed his broadsword with the man's dagger. The man was taken aback, not expecting to be met with such a formidable opponent such as Blank. The thief made an attempt to lob off the head of the man with his sword, but was met with a bit of relief when another Alexandrian foot solider impaled him through he chest, taking hold if his body and throwing it to the side as if it were a mere puppet. His gaze met hers, at once registering both the bloodlust and fear of mortality in her eyes, expression both crazed and overjoyed at the killed. A bit of the spatter and grit clouded her face, and she quickly wiped it off before nodding at Blank and flying back into the fray.
Blank immediately understood the weight of this particular riot and was at a loss to move muscle. He spotted Marcus exacting a kill, as well as Bentley sparring with an older gentleman, eventually winning that round. He tried to scope out the crowd to find Lilia and her parents, but could see no one but Alexandrian soldiers.
"The queen must have opposed anyone coming over through the dock…just in case…"
Blank wondered how many names Lilia would have taken by now, and how aptly the riot would have found its quiet in her wake. He imagined her on the other side of the lake, deciding whether she should swim over, jaw clenched in fury, itching just to get to the action, to protect her family and loved ones. As this thought passed through his mind, he heard the sounds of sloshing from a distance, and ran over to the dock to find Lilia, Diana, and Alexya coming upshore, hitting the ground running as soon as they hit land. He wasted no time in speculating, and ran into the fighting head on.
There were many moving bodies, flailing limbs, jutting swords. He decided to focus on the maiming of as many rose tattoos that he could find, not wishing to harm any that were a part of his own faction. A voice rose above the crowd, shaking, "For our ancestors! For all those lost! The Alexandrians must pay!"
He swerved around at this, the voice growing closer and closer. The man who had shouted had planned a mission for Blank's life, and he sensed it. His broadsword was lifted in his momentum, meeting with an even larger kind of blade. His eyes traveled over the blade and down to the eyes of the person, shocked to find that it was a rather thin, tall, muscular woman with laugh lines around her eyes and deep dimple lines forming down the sides of her long face.
"A Burmecian. But using a sword…?"
Blank was taken aback by her strength, struggling to hold down her recent advance.
"She must be a former knight of some sort."
He escaped her looming weight and ducked to avoid the swing, stealthily moving behind her to swing into her side, but she was as quick as he was, turning in a swift motion to block the strike. Blank registered that she was much taller than he was, giving her an advantage in power, but also knowing that he could probably outmaneuver her with his speed. There were a few sword exchanges made, but Blank knew he had to make a drastic move before he became completely taken over. The woman swung her sword over her head and it met the cobblestones as Blank rolled out of its path, panic-striken and trying to think up a way out of the battle, being completely exhausted as he was. He was no longer a young man, and it showed. The woman moved forward to exact the final blow, Blank taking the sword coming toward him with dilated pupils, awaiting his fate.
What had happened next, he had not a moment to register, as he expected his death.
Lilia had tackled the woman to the ground. Blank sat up to watch the tussle, barely cognizant, only apprehending that Lilia had overpowered her in a short struggle and had slit her throat. The Burmecian woman lay there, convulsing, blood pulsating from her neck, before lying lifeless on the stones, eyes still wide open in horror.
Lilia had already managed to become beaten and bloodied up as usual—but here, there was something quite different in her eyes. She turned to Blank and stood over him, just as tall as the Burmecian she just slaughtered. Her expression was that of a stone cold warrior, unaffected by emotions, by death. Blank saw it in her face that she had just killed someone and felt nothing of it in the present moment. Her brilliant emerald eyes appeared to fog over in greyness as she offered him an unenthusiastic hand to help him up. In this, he saw her mother's ferociousity, her warrior's spirit, and her forced lack of remorse for her actions.
"Come, get up. This fight is to be over momentarily," she spoke with no emotion in her voice. Blank shook his head. "Lilia…who…"
Lilia would not have it.
"I said get up. We will speak later."
Blank laid for a moment, then obeyed. He was sure something had changed in her that day. He grabbed her hand and scanned the perimeter, noticing that the crowds were dissolving, and there were no rebels in sight.
"They retreated, on the orders of their leader. He is yet unknown as to his name and location. Cowards," Lilia stated, answering his question before he could even ask.
"What about Bentley? Marcus?"
Lilia tossed her wet, heavy hair powerfully and pointed to the east part of the square. Both men were working their way towards them, Marcus limping.
"We just ain't what we used to be, bro." Marcus spoke in between pants, eliciting a nod in agreement from Blank. "How much longer does this have to go on? We gonna have the energy for it?"
Bentley interjected, "Don't worry about it. Me and the boys, we got this. Did you see us out there? We scared 'em out their wits, they had no idea what was coming for 'em."
So confident was he that he jumped and twirled in midair, his right fist raised to the heavens. "Alexander's Angels, we are. For the throne!"
Lilia shot him an icy glare, in which left him in utter confusion of the affect of his actions. "This is no laughing matter, you fool. Behold the cleanup we must exact now that you are through with the carnage! And to be jolly of it!"
Bentley slowly lowered his arm and tucked both his hands underneath is armpits, wounded by her words. "What the hell is up with you, Lilia? You're not yourself. Normally you'd be joyful of victory."
Lilia placed her sword inside her hilt and turned away from the group.
"I am only acting in proper form with my duties. This is no victory," she spoke, squeezing some of the water from her lilac uniform. "I must return now to the castle to inform my parents of the casualties…they did not feel they could leave the queen's side."
Bentley snorted at her excuse.
"I think your father is getting inside your head, acting like nothing but a stuck-up, snot nosed little bitch…"
Lilia whipped her head over her should to lay another glare to him, but this time he was not perturbed.
"Hold your tongue, street-rat. I am in no mood to argue with you right now."
"Street rat?! Why, you-
"Yeah, I said it. Maybe if you wouldn't act like one, I wouldn't treat you like one!" Lilia spat, her normal, sass-ridden common speech returning to her.
"Now that's the Lilia I know and love, eh?" Bentley proclaimed, hot breath on her face. She could smell the slight essence of booze emanating from his lips. A smiled grew on her face, and she snickered at him.
"Drinking while on the watch, are you? Typical. You should know better, friend."
Bentley blinked a few times at her observation, then backed away turning back to his father.
"How was I to know the horns would sound?"
Lilia shook her head and marched to the dock, where a boat awaited her. She climbed in and the three men watched her drift back to the castle.
"Bentley…if you are going to participate in the riots, you can't drink, for god's sake…" Blank told him, exasperated. "It's so much easier to make a lapse in judgment, then boom! You're finito."
"Says the one who came way too close just minutes go…lucky Lilia was there to save your old ass," Bentley retorted, growing more pissed by the minute. "I mean god, is it pick on Bentley day today? Good Zeus. I'm going back home to check on Sapphira and Mom."
He didn't wait for the reply from the older and wiser, dashing off toward the West Side where they resided. Blank had the nerve to run after him and beat the living daylight out of him, but was confronted by the rest of his band.
"Boss! Any casualties on this side? Where's Bentley?" one of Blank's men asked, flanked by the other four.
"He's fine, just ran away in a fit of rage, yeah?" Marcus interrupted, nudging Blank. Apparently, there was something quite humorous to him about the situation.
"Everyone is accounted for, I think," Blank answered, counting each one of their faces with relief. "But it's not over yet, of course. I think we all need to get some rest before the next attack comes, and we don't know when that could be. It could be tomorrow, it could be a week from now. Just keep on your toes."
"Boss! We also have some reports from the boss in Lindblum…" one of the men mentioned, garnering interest from the others. "He said that there was a plan to ride the boats over to Brahne's resting place and cause mass destruction there…"
Blank recoiled with the processing of this information. He suddenly grew angry.
"I knew they were barricading the dock for a reason…dammit…the queen must already have some knowledge of what they plan to do…ok, you all are dismissed. Go home and get some rest."
The gang nodded and scattered off, leaving Blank and Marcus.
"What're you gonna do now, bro?" Marcus asked.
"Well, only one thing I can do, and that's go to the castle and inform Zidane of what we know. I need to talk to him anyway. Just watch the town and make sure there's no more trouble for today," Blank said, patting him on the shoulder, the two of them performing their salute to one another.
"I got it. Be safe, bro," Marcus said before walking towards town. Blank hopped onto a boat and let one of the soldiers row him to the castle.
Crystal flipped the page to the book she had been reading. "One thing I've known to be true in my educational career…writers crave experience."
She had been in the dimly-lit library perusing a book on white magic spells, entitled, "The Healing Magic of 16th Century Burmecia". Her hand drifted up from the book and landed on Fredryck's chin, prompting his face to meet hers. Writing had been one of his most treasured hobbies in his free time, his chosen craft poetry. He placed his quill down on the parchment and found himself lost in her crystalline blues.
"What experiences are you craving?" Crystal asked in a way that seemed seductive to him. His own light blue eyes fell back on the poem he was writing, and he felt himself at a loss for words. Crystal tended to have that effect on him.
"Oh, come now, don't be shy. What are you writing about?"
Fredryck understood, much to his dismay, that she was merely being her friendly, flirtatious self.
"Well, many things, princess. Of course, you know of the struggle my people have endured in the past twenty-five years or so…to have to watch them wallow in their loss, not knowing how to rectify or move away from…the actions of Alexandria…'tis heartbreaking, you see," He answered resolutely, absent-mindedly dabbing his quill into its inkpot. "Never an easy subject."
The princess eyed his scrawling. "Will you read what you have written to me?"
The Burmecian prince's face immediately turned a bright shade of maroon, and snatched his paper away before she could take it away from him without permission. He had read her mind.
"It can't possibly be that bad!" Crystal moaned, thrusting herself forward to try and rip the paper out of his hands, but he was too quick and too much taller than her. "Why be like this?"
"Because what I write about is none of your business!" Fredryck huffed, sitting back down in his chair. "Besides, it is not yet finished! Shouldn't you be busying yourself with some of that light reading that you so much adore?"
Crystal loudly smashed her palms down on the wood of the library table. This action elicited many motions of dissent from the other library inhabitants.
"So be it. I was simply interested in what is going on in that head of yours," Crystal said, looking around at all the angry faces of the scholars around her.
"It hardly matters. You would not be able to appreciate the writings anyway—they contain Burmecian folklore and symbolism, which I assume is beyond your grasp."
The raven-haired princess dropped her head onto her hand and started to leaf through the pages of her book once more. "I've already read this one three times over. I don't know why I continue to pick it up. I think there is something in here that I have missed, some piece of information that is imperative to learn…I can just feel it…"
Fredryck continued on with his own work, scanning the lines he had already created and made tangible.
Please, oh brethren, make yourselves well
to do and recognize as I have recognized—
perfidious tenderness in the most unfounded
of domiciles, thousands of inky streaks trickling,
never white or grey like they say, only black—
"God forbid she should ever see this…" he cautioned himself. He could have kicked himself in horror and embarrassment, had she gotten her hands on this poem. He could not help but write about her when she was around. She had possessed a grace and delicacy that he had always found both intolerable and irresistible. The romantic sensations he had possessed for her were, on the whole, absolutely unacceptable, not only because of his race, but also because of his position in life. He would never be caught dead loving an Alexandrian woman. He took notice of Crystal taking in information intently from the text, admiring her ability to concentrate despite the many things always going on around her at all times. She had her pointer finger pressed to one of the lines, and dragged it across the page, following the line with her eyes. Her brow was thoroughly crinkled in her concentration, waves of skin overlapping on her forehead—a trait Fredryck simply adored.
"Hey now, what do we have here?"
All of his fears for the day had suddenly come to a head. A large, brown-gloved hand reached over his head and so roughly grabbed his poem that the side of the page ripped in his attempt to stop it from being lifted away. He whipped around in his chair to witness Bentley waving the sheet above his head, like the bully he knew that he was. After a moment of the sheer horror that was written all over his face, he steeled up to take the young man head on.
"Really mature of you Bentley!" Fredryck exclaimed, his maroon undertones becoming more prominent as Bentley scoffed at him, continuing to wave the page around. "But what did I expect from a dirty Alexandrian scoundrel as yourself?"
Bentley's face went into mock-grimace mode, before peering over at Crystal, who was half smiling, half disapproving him. "Hey babe, have you read this yet? I can already see it's a good one."
"Bentley, give it back to him. He doesn't want anyone reading it." Crystal demanded unconvincingly. At this, Bentley cleared his throat and held up the piece of writing.
"Ahem," he began, prompting Fredryck to shoot up from his chair in an attempt to grab the poem back. Bentley kept jumping backwardsin evasion, a skill he had learned from years of thieving.
"Why, you!" Fredryck shouted, clearly as out of breath as he was vexed by the end of the chase. Bentley was just getting started, throwing a fist up at a librarian who shushed him and order him out of the library.
"Bentley!" Crystal scolded, but this only enticed the young thief more. He opened his mouth to recite the poem, every excruciating word falling on Fredryck's ears, his free verse laced with heavy, sopping emotion viable and apparent to anyone listening. The vulnerability was too much for him to bear, and he crumpled to the floor. Bentley finished what he had written so far, and threw the piece of writing at him mercilessly, the parchment falling to the floor in slow waves before finally landing at Fredryck's feet.
"Sensitive git, we all know you have a crush on the princess. Well let it be known—it ain't gonna happen, so better just give up now!"
Crystal got up from her chair and stomped over to him, pushing him on the chest and pointing a finger in his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a Knight of Pluto become roused at the action.
"You're a real jerk, you know that? How could you be so cruel to him? He has never done anything to insult or harm you!" Their faces were almost nose to nose, her fruity, floral perfume climbing through his sense of smell. Gardenia and jasmine, he mused. He took a deep breath to savor it.
"I can see it from a mile away, infringing upon my woman. And you know, I don't very well enjoy it, Crystal."
"I am not your woman," Crystal corrected, acknowledging that she felt both flattered and insulted by his behavior. Everyone knew that they were dated, and nobody approved of it, save Blank and Zidane. "And what do you suppose, hm? That I would cheat on you with him? Do you not trust me more than this?"
"Of course I trust you," Bentley repeated, placing both hands on her face and drawing her even closer for a small peck. Fredryck's stomach turned at the sight, and he started to get up off the floor to walk out of the library. Bentley caught him on the way out. "You leave her alone, you hear? Alone!"
Laudo marched up to Bentley and grabbed his forearm.
"Alright, enough of you, out! Out!" He demanded, pulling on his bicep.
"Yeah, alright, get off me would ya? I've got to tell her something important."
Laudo glared at him fiercely, then nodded at Crystal before backing away a few steps.
"What is it then?" She asked.
"Your father, he is up to date on the happenings in the town. Everyone knows just about everything-but I haven't told them of our plans, so don't worry so much about that."
Crystal contemplated his words. "So they know about the plans to destroy Brahne's resting place. I so wish that I could have been there to help you all stop the treachery…"
Bentley shook his head in protest, and kissed her once more.
"Crystal, I really don't know if it's the best idea for you to get involved. What if you get hurt? I can only teach you so many ways to defend yourself from such physical attacks-
"Shhh!" Crystal replied, looking over her shoulder, expecting anyone to be listening in. "My parents, nor any of the knights can know about my plans to join the resistance. They all expect me to just stay safe in the castle. My mother, such a hypocrite…doing to me what they had done to her…"
"She just wants to protect you. Imagine the agony any of us would have to go through if we had lost you…" Bentley trailed off, sulking to the floor.
"Do be serious, Bentley. I am a fighter all on my own, with high skills in my magic."
"But is magic enough? I tell you, the sheer power and will of these fighters, Crystal. You cannot begin to understand unless you've been there."
"So you will let me be there, straightaway," Crystal countered, deep cerulean eyes glinting in the light of the library candles. Laudo was beginning to get suspicious of transpiring.
"Ok, you've had enough time with the princess. You are to leave the premises at once, do you understand?" Laudo said from behind Bentley. The young thief placed one last kiss on his girlfriend's head before turning to Laudo.
"You are not to speak of anything you just saw or heard today, am I clear?"
The knight gulped as Bentley grew closer, knife in hand, aimed at his jugular. He glanced over at Crystal, who nodded in agreement with Bentley, before he strolled cooly out of the library.
Though generally frowned upon, it was not entirely unusual for Lilia and her troupe to spar with Zerrick.
"Ya gotta be faster than that, Zaz!" Agatha challenged Zerrick, stabbing in the direction of his torso, a blow he barely missed. "Zaz" had been an affectionate nickname of his youth, created for him by Lilia, and much like in his youth, he became accustomed to dodging attacks from women.
Lilia had always been a little too wild for him. She never held back in a good match. He found himself struck by a half-hearted blow on the back by her sword's hilt, tumbling to the grass of the grounds. The pain from the impact radiated through his backside, arching it away from the ground to better deal with the slight agony. Lilia looked down on him, her troupe circling him like prey. He grinned up at her look of triumph, haloed by the sunlight above her.
"It's not so bad, now, the pain you endure. You know you cannot win, I don't know why you'd even try."
This was a joke between them, of course, and she offered him a hand. He took it, jumping into the air and landing in his signature victory pose.
"Yeah, yeah, not when it's four against one! You ladies really give me a run for my money, I must say…"
Zerrick brushed the dirt off of his jeans as Lilia commanded her squadron to cease and desist.
"Ok, training has commenced for the day. You may all go eat dinner and rest."
"But Lils! We aren't finished with him yet! We've not yet gone over how to perform the hip-side short thrust!" Deirdre complained, relieving an itch she found underneath her helmet.
"Nor have we touched today's backflip evasion training!" Agatha added.
Lilia shook her head. "It is not only my job to instruct on these matters. Your training session with Alexya tomorrow will cover more than enough in one day. Hurry, then, before you miss your dinner!"
Charlene's deep dimples caved in her expression, denoting disdain for Lilia.
"Yeah. Our dinner, in the barracks. A dinner you should be participating in nightly but never do, because you get to eat with the royals."
A low, guttural noise emanated from Lilia's throat. Agatha audibly snickered, quickly coming to a halt when Lilia threw her a salty expression before defending herself.
"I…that…that is not fair, you know that….I..."
For what seemed like the first time ever, she did not know quite what to say. She knew that she was quite clearly guilty of what they were accusing her of. Still, she didn't wish to be seen as weak or inferior in any light. She looked around at each of the four faces surrounding her, not one willing to look her in the eye. Even Zerrick, who was usually her biggest fan and supporter, failed to meet her gaze. He absent-mindedly kicked a small rock in the grass.
"Ridiculous!" Lilia finally shouted at her consorts, throwing her broadsword to the ground in a fit. "This is no way to speak to your superiors! All of you are dismissed immediately!"
The flush overpowering her cheeks made her look like a very ripe variety of Gyshal Beet. The three soldiers were frozen staring—it was quite a sight to behold to each of them, though they were quite used to Lilia's frequent temper tantrums.
"YOU HEARD ME!" Lilia screamed, and her squad scrambled out of her sight towards the barracks. Lilia stood huffing, overseeing their leave. Her entire body was filled with uncontrollable trembling.
"A-Absurd! Zerrick, what do they know? Eh?"
She eventually turned to face him and caught him with a sorry grimace, seemingly devoid of any opinion whatsoever.
"What is this? Don't tell me you're siding with them…"
Zerrick's mouth curled into another questionable position. Lilia could do nothing but stand there, her own mouth agape, her thick eyebrows furrowed.
"Well…many people have been questioning it for a long time…and…perhaps you should join them," he started sheepishly, finding another rock to kick. He finally found the courage to meet her gaze, and quickly looked back to the ground, shuddering at her ferocity. "At least, until you become General, which I suspect, ehm…that…haha, it shouldn't be long from now. Lilia, come on!"
By this point, she was having none of his garble and began to plod proudly towards the castle, long, dark hair fluttering behind her, leaving her sword in the lawn of the training grounds.
"Come on, Lilia! I was only making a suggestion! These things will make everyone a lot happier, including yourself! The kinship inherent in this type of—
"Don't you tell me what would make me happy!" Lilia scolded as she stopped and turned to him, blood rushing ever more quickly to her face. "You know nothing of life in the army, prince. You know not what my soldiers desire and what would make them happy."
He became relentless in his pursuit. "Just hear me out! I have eavesdropped on so many conversations, Lilia, and believe me, most of these girls aren't happy! It's because they don't feel kinship with you! They find you to be privileged, insufferably so! Lilia, listen to me!"
He finally caught up with her and placed an earnest hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop in her cross storm.
"Get off me," Lilia mumbled, trying to continue her procession away from the training grounds. Zerrick refused, using sheer force to turn her around.
"You know it's true. You wouldn't be so fucking angry, otherwise," he told her, admiring the resolve in her clear, green eyes, but also sensing some much unwanted tears coming along the red lines apparent in the whites of her eyes. "I'm not trying to upset you, or make you feel bad. I want to help make your life easier."
Lilia bit her lip to keep herself from revealing her emotional stance. She swallowed hard, and focused in on the ground.
"It's…it's all I've ever known, Zaz."
Being the most tender of men, his own oceanic eyes spared concern for her, and he pulled her in to a tight hug, one of which she attempted to resist, but simply melted into once feeling his intense warmth. Only he could have such power over her.
"I hate this."
"I know, I know…" Zerrick attempted to comfort her in stroking her hair, something she had always loved as a child. "And nobody wants to hurt or upset you. We all just want what is best for you. Besides, I think I overheard that your parents are trying to have a conversation about that, so be prepared."
Lilia stepped back.
"My parents?! What could they possibly have to say?"
"I don't know, honestly. Maybe they're beginning to think you need to put on your big girl breeches now. You know, consenting with the silent majority."
The pit of her stomach was trying itself into knots. "I feel like a villain in my own home, Zaz. It just feels as though…everyone is…turning against me…or acting different somehow. I don't know. Perhaps it is I who has changed."
"I wouldn't dwell on it," Zerrick advised, shrugging. "Thinking of the big picture, maybe a change of scenery will have a positive impact on your life."
The young knight made it clear that she did not believe this for a second, and sighed with dread as they stared wistfully into the reflection of the auburn sunset, glinting off the sword-like surface of the castle.
Author notes: I placed little elements of one of my favorite television shows in this chapter, let's see if any of you can guess what it is! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Chapter 4 is also ready, but I will hold off on posting it for a bit. R&R.