A/N: Another long update. As you can see, this isn't the prologue anymore—which was a taste of the adventure to come—but the real beginning to a 'very' long story. The first chapter is called Old World, and it deals mainly with the first of the two protagonists. It has a companion chapter right after it called New World that deals with the other, so stay tuned.
Disclaimer - Who really cares about who really owns the rights to what? Oh, and if you don't like yuri related themes, you're probably not going to appreciate this story.
Chapter 1: The Old World
Twelve.
Ten now.
The ninth was good, but we're better.
Only eight left.
Finally the seventh is down, but it cost us.
They're reorganizing.
"Damn Belkans." They were making this a hard fight. The enemy leader was good. "We need to press in groups!" Chrono knew their element of surprise was over now. The real fight had just begun.
A fellow rider swiftly passed over and signaled to him—he was dressed in the same silver armor and trench coat used by all Ecclesian knights. Chrono quickly signaled for the man and his mount to fall in behind. Even if they outnumbered the enemy three-to-one, it was still an even match. Those Belkans only fielded the finest of the Sun Brood, and their gold dragons could easily take on three of their own Browns.
"Form up!" he yelled from atop Durandal. The proud Brown he rode was riddled with scars, but those were from previous fights. So far it avoided any damage from this engagement, and he wanted to keep it that way. "Don't let them break out." His flight formed a cantabrian circle around the Golds; any Belkan who tried to move out from its center would be swarmed instantly. It was best to use their superior numbers to defeat them.
"By your will, Captain," came the varied acknowledgments of his subordinates. Their voices, amazingly enough, carried in from the wind. That was all Durandal's doing, the Brown had tuned his senses to pick up on of his fellow Ecclesians.
The formation held for a time before one cocky Belkan tried to break out. The enemy knight, adorned in the obsidian plate armor of the Empire, pulled the Gold up to scatter two of his men near the mouth of the formation. The Belkan went for the Ecclesian dragoon on the right first. In a solid arch, the claws of the huge Gold raked a long gash through the neck of the smaller reptile. It disoriented the Brown but his fellow dragoon came to his aid; a snap hiss, issued from the dragon's maw, preceded a stream of fire that shot towards the Gold's rider. At the last second the wings of the larger beast flew up and batted the flames away—the best move since the Sun dragons were virtually immune to fire.
Angered, the Gold countered by latching on to the smaller Brown; its huge wings then pulled them both higher while its head swept around to catch the rider. The Belkan was trying to use the easiest way to take an enemy out of the fight. Dragons could fight for hours before they succumbed to their wounds and fell from the skies, but riders, on the hand, could be dropped by a single bite. The pact formed by dragoons was a double edged sword. When a rider died, so did their dragon.
In the nick of time the Brown kicked the larger beast away to protect its master. Undeterred, the Gold went forward again, its large tail knocking the second Brown away so it could focus on the primary target.
"Foolish Belkan," Chrono said aloud, Durandal grunting in agreement. The dragon being overpowered only appeared to be in trouble, it purposely allowed the large Gold to go after the rider. The knight, he couldn't remember the man's name, was pulling off the perfect feint.
The very moment the Gold reached its head around to strike, was the very moment it was trapped by the Brown's foreleg. The Ecclesian wasted no time shoving his lance into the soft underneck of the Gold. Not only did it pierce the most vulnerable part of the dragon, it effectively threw the enemy back in a spasm of pain.
In perfect unison, two other Browns swept in and bellowed the purest stream of fire from their maws. The Belkan, who was unable to control his thrashing mount, could only watch as two flames washed over and incinerated him.
Six left.
The battle was theirs for the taking, and to show it, Durandal and the rest of the Browns roared in unison. All the dragoons knew it was time to end this.
Chrono pulled up on the reins to signal a dive; he would break the Belkans in this next assault for sure. "Aim for the leader, Durandal." He could only catch glimpses here and there, but there was definitely something strange about the enemy leader. That man didn't wear the normal Belkan colors, instead the rider wore silver and reds. Something about that triggered caution in the back of Chrono's mind, but he chose to ignore it.
As one, the Browns banked left and headed for the center. They didn't catch the Belkans unprepared this time, because the sky instantly lit up with a screen of fire—there were only six Golds left, but they shot twice the amount of fireballs as the Browns were throwing back.
He was impressed, but Durandal wasn't. "Prepare yourself!" the brown dragon roared as he waded through the rivers of flame with ease. Sadly, some of Chrono's other men weren't so lucky; five were driven off and two more riders were downed.
In seconds the two sides finally collided. No more formations, no more ranged bombardments, and no more strategies, the entire host had dissolved into a chaotic melee: snapping maws, raking claws, streams of fire, and the most effective of them all, precision attacks from the riding dragoons.
The Belkan captain suddenly pulled away from the other dragoons and headed right towards him; it seemed his strategy was being mirrored. "Halt." He pulled Durandal up to a hover, it would have been foolish to charge the larger Gold straight on. In an unspoken agreement, the enemy leader approached and squared off with him. The man, or woman now that he got a good look at her, only hovered a few meters away with her mount ready to strike. "An old fashioned duel then." Both side's fellow dragoons recognized it for what it was, so they kept their distance. They had their own battles to worry about.
The enemy leader fielded a Gold that was a third bigger than Durandal. From the look in that beast's golden eyes, it was an old one not easily tricked. Its riding dragoon didn't seem to be a stranger to combat either.
"This should be good." Chrono clapped the saddle's stirrup and Durandal surged forward. His Brown attempted to disrupt the Belkan by shooting a fireball, but the Gold didn't even flinch as it rose up and took the flames directly in the chest, harmlessly. "Pull back!" he yelled, not a moment too soon. The Gold whipped its tail around in a move that would have crippled Durandal's left wing had he not reared away.
Chrono thought he had a second to recover, but something shot forward heading straight for his head. If the sun hadn't reflected off the metal he would have missed it, so maybe god was looking out for him. He just managed to dodge the arrow as it clipped his helmet. "Damn!" Growling in rage, he tore the damaged headpiece from his face. Looking over at the enemy leader, he saw she was holding a bow with both hands—it took an incredible amount of balance to use a bow during flight, but the Belkan did it effortlessly. "You're good!" He didn't think the female knight could hear him, but she suddenly nodded back.
"You as well." said the smooth voice of a woman. "I never miss. Your reflexes are good for a human."
It was an interesting statement coming from a Belkan, and that's when it hit him. Silver and red armor, flawless riding technique, ambidextrous control, this dragoon wasn't a Belkan at all, she was a Wolkenritter—a clan of Elva who served the Empire as dragon handlers. They were the Empire's loyalist subjects, the Elva's most hated traitors, but more importantly they were the finest dragoons in the entire world. He suddenly swallowed hard, this was the first time he felt unsure of himself since the battle started.
"Lets have at it," the Wolkenritter announced.
With a nod, Chrono pressed forward. This time he tilted Durandal so he could use his lance as they rode pass, it was his mount's job to keep from getting snagged in the process. Time moved slowly when they finally came into contact.
He watched as the maw of the Gold swung around to catch him, but Durandal's hind leg slammed it away in the nick of time. This finally brought him into striking distance of the Wolkenritter. Chrono pushed out with his lance, hoping to god it would take the enemy leader by surprise. He had no so such luck. A flash of steel and a broadsword—a strange weapon for a dragon rider—flew out and batted his lance away. It hit so hard that his spear flew out of his hand and tumbled away into the sky. He knew he was in trouble then.
The girl's sword changed its route to strike at him directly this time, and it would have decapitated him too, had Durandal not saved his life by pushing the gold dragon away. Again, he circled around and came to a hover.
"You fight well," the Wolkenritter said in respect. She finally took off her helmet and let it fall away. Shaking her head, it caused a stream of pink hair to ripple in the wind. It was then the rider's blue eyes met his. "Captain Opel, Forty-Ninth Imperial Dragoons." The girl brought the sword to her face in salute.
Chrono's suspicion had proven correct, the enemy leader was an Elva. "Captain Harlaown, Eighteenth Federation Dragoons." He brought a hand to his chest and returned the sign of respect. For better or worst, he only had one last run left. "I might die here, but so will you." He motioned to the fight around them. It was all but over now; out of the last six Belkans, only three remained. Two of those were being swarmed by the remainder of his men.
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"I'm always prepared to die for the Empire," Signum retorted calmly, her every word laced with steel. She readied her weapon and turned her mount forward. The Ecclesian had fought well, the best fight she had in a long while, but it was time to end it. Two Browns were already coming to aid their captain. "Come, Laevatein, let us show this pup what a real fight is." She could sense her Gold agree wholeheartedly.
In a single minute the momentum of the entire battle shifted. It wasn't the Ecclesians, who had numerical superiority, that gained the upper hand, nor was it Signum's valiant efforts that altered the outcome. A new player had arrived on the field.
A terrifying roar, loud enough to completely halt all the fighting, sounded from above. Both she and the Ecclesian captain had to tear their eyes off each other to look upward. What they saw made them gasp in surprise. It was large, easily twice as big as Laevatein, and the outline briefly blotted out the sun when it passed through the clouds.
Signum smiled when she caught a glimpse of the obsidian colored scales. Only one side, or more specifically one family, rode atop the Imperial dragon. "Seems you're outmatched now." She urged her mount to continue the charge, and it gladly did so with a roar that shook the saddle.
In took a mere second before Laevatein slammed against the enemy dragoon. It was supposed to be a glancing attack, but the Brown latched on and a vicious melee broke out. To the smaller dragon's credit, he kept his master from getting into range of Signum's weapon. That only cost the beast more punishment as Laevatein tore into its more vulnerable spots. While they were stuck in their aerial deadlock, she glanced in the direction of the approaching Browns. It was then a large shadow fell over them.
The silver knights atop the Browns weren't fools. They knew what was coming for them and they scattered to get away, but the Imperial was faster. The great beast had already fallen on the first one, snagged it with its large claws, and tore the wings right off the Brown's back. In one swift motion the Imperial discarded the crippled dragon, and soared over to catch the second Brown unawares. This time the black dragon started to inhale deeply. She knew what was going to happen next—only the fire from an Imperial could harm a Sun Brood. Sure enough, the entire Brown was soon shrouded in a flame that could melt stone. Signum turned away from the sight, she had her own battle to deal with.
"Now," She commanded. She heard her dragon grunt before it kick the Brown away. No more than a few meters away, Laevatein unleashed a blast of fire. The ball soared through the air and hit its mark, catching the Brown by surprise. Laevatein took the opportunity to dive under Durandal. With their backs now facing each other, Signum could finally strike directly at the rider.
With a flick her wrist, her blade lashed out and caught the man in the shoulder, splashing blood on her face in the process—she regretted discarding her helmet now. Signum was ready to strike again, but Laevatein suddenly flipped over to grab the Brown's neck in his maw, effectively pinning the smaller beast under him.
"Good, now hold him!" Sliding to her right, she peered down at the Ecclesian, blue eyes meeting blue as the man returned her gaze. "God be with you," she said firmly. Her thumb unlocked the sword and turned it into a long chain of blades. Whipping it back, Signum prepared for the final blow.
"Stop!" said a voice from above. It was a familiar voice laced with command.
She froze, her eyes never once leaving the Ecclesian's. "You owe her your life." The man was terrified and for good reason. "Fall back, Laevatein."
The large dragon growled and bit down hard enough to knock out the smaller Brown. He then released it and let it tumble from the sky with its rider in tow. Signum scowled, but her expression faded as she watched what happened next.
The obsidian dragon quickly dived passed them and grabbed the falling Brown with one hand, while the other claw reached out and captured the rider. With both of them secure, the Imperial flew off in the direction of the Belkan's forward base.
"…Captain Opel."
She shook her head and turned to her left, hovering there was the last surviving member of her Wing. His armor was badly burned, and his dragon near death, but at least he was still alive. "Report?" The word came out of her mouth automatically.
The man brought a shaky hand to his chest. "It's just us, Captain. That Imperial drove off the other Ecclesians."
She retracted her sword and slid it back into the sheath. "Return to base then." She watched as the other knight left. When he was finally out of sight, she looked down towards the surface. Dragons, men, and burned foliage littered the ground everywhere. It was a horrifying sight to witness, and Signum knew she caused a fair share of it, but that was her job. "What the hell is the princess doing out here?"
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Why must this madness continue?
Killing shouldn't have bothered her after all these years, but it still did.
Even our enemies don't deserve this.
A groan drew her attention to the brown dragon grasped in one of Bardiche's claws. The winged reptile was starting to regain consciousness. "Lets leave it." She directed her mount to the nearby hill. With a gust of wind, her large companion hovered to stop.
"We should destroy it, Sir." Bardiche unceremoniously dumped the smaller dragon on the hillside. "Why let it live?"
Fate patted the side of her mount, a creature almost as big as the hill it hovered against. "How can we get this Ecclesian to cooperate if we destroy his pact?" Her question was self-explanatory, Bardiche knew full well what killing the mount of a dragon rider would do to the man's psyche.
Bardiche grunted and moved a claw up to show her. Inside was the Ecclesian knight they spared and an officer from the looks of him. He had lost enough blood to render him unconscious. "He might be unusable either way." The Ecclesian's pact with his Brown was healing the wounds, but the injury had come from Signum's blade. He was lucky to still have an arm.
Fate sighed. "He'll live." She pulled up on Bardiche's rein and together they continued on.
I hope.
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It was late in the evening by the time she reached the encampment. Signum's unit had crafted a well hidden base two days ride from the Ecclesian capital of Mid-Childa, right under their enemy's noses. It was an impressive feat to pull off in the heart of Federation territory.
Fate waited patiently while Bardiche let out a series of calls that signaled she was a fellow Belkan, if riding a black dragon wasn't already enough. When a horn finally sounded back, she circled around for a landing. The base camp was easy to make out despite the setting sun. There were rows of torch light aligned by each different area; the large tents for officers and knights, multi-sectioned tents for regular personnel, and her target, the brightly lit holding pens near the southern part of the base. It was disheartening to see all of them were empty save for one.
If I had only come sooner...
Her heart went out to Signum, she had lost a lot of good dragoons on this assignment. Maybe her decision to come here would do something to stop all this needless killing.
Fate leaned over and patted her dragon's side. "How is he?"
Bardiche held up a closed hand to check his cargo "Alive for the moment, but I can't say he'll stay that way."
"What do you mean?"
"It's his blood." The black dragon growled in contempt. "He's human…but not quite."
"A mixed blood?" She wasn't too surprised. Amalgams—the rare half-breeds between humans and non-humans—were not uncommon among the Ecclesians. Their people had strange practices in general, and it was partly the reason for the war. "Well…it doesn't matter. " Already there were soldiers on the ground preparing for her arrival. "We needed an Ecclesian and we have one."
I just hope this amalgam can be reasoned with, Fate thought apprehensively.
She jerked on the reins and brought Bardiche to the ground in a single dive. Her landing, as always, was perfect, but that didn't prevent the Belkan soldiers from backing away in alarm. They probably never saw an Imperial dragon up close before.
Bardiche capitalized on their fear and reared back to growl. It effectively made all the ground personnel jump back even more.
"Must you always do that?" She knew her mount enjoyed the terrified looks from the surrounding men. With the exception of herself, her apprentice, and her former master, the dragon treated everyone else with undisguised contempt.
The veteran Belkans quickly recovered from their embarrassing display and circled the great beast. "Your Highness!" one of the soldiers shouted. He, like the others, was wearing a cloth uniform devoid of armor and weapons—a normal sight on support personnel. "Thank the one true god you returned!" All of them crossed a fist over their chests, and kneeled.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even after nineteen years as a princess, she never really got used to all the protocol. "I am well." She clapped a fist over her armored chest. "Praise be the Empress!"
"Praise be the Empress!" retorted every soldier automatically as they stood from the ground—it was a common phrase used when Belkans would meet and depart from one another.
Fate let go of the dragon's rein and unbuckled the leg straps securing her to the saddle. "Fetch a medic and have guards prepared. I have a prisoner that needs tending." At her direction, the large dragon opened his palm and laid the Ecclesian on the ground.
Two soldiers immediately rushed over to check on the man. One of the Belkans, an officer, let out a growl that bordered on pure hatred.
"What is it?" She narrowed her eyes at the man, they weren't going to make this easy.
"He's…not human, Your Highness." The officer kneeled and pushed aside some of the Ecclesian's hair, what he said was true, the enemy dragoon had pointed ears. Not as long as an Elva's, but he definitely possessed their blood. "Let me have the honor of dealing with him myself." The officer pulled a knife and pressed it to the man's throat.
That was the reaction she'd expected. Imperial orders had decreed all non-humans were to be killed on sight with the exception of Wolkenritters. Even Fate's authority as a princess couldn't supersede that, at least not for another year and a half. "Stand down," she said firmly. "Abide by my command."
"But…" The officer, like his fellow Belkans around the clearing, gave her a shocked expression. "He's impure! We should kill him right no…" The man's objection was suddenly cut off when a dagger was pressed under his throat. Stealthily, a pigtailed redhead stepped out from behind him.
"Any man disobeying the imperial family is considered treason, whether she holds the throne or not." The redhead pulled the man's head back, earning a yelp from the officer. "You know the punishment for treason don't you?" Her voice was cold and without mercy.
"I-I-I'm sorry. Forgive my impudence."
Fate shook her head, this wasn't the best way to resolve the situation. The Forty-Ninth Dragoons had been through enough without needing to deal with this as well. "Enough, Teana. Let him go."
Unlike the officer, Teana knew how to follow orders. "Aye, Master." The girl released the man and kicked him forward. All the other Belkans turned away when her apprentice swept a gaze through the crowd. "Well?" The encampment abruptly came to life. Everybody had their jobs to do, including the two men who picked up the Ecclesian and took him away.
"That was uncalled for, Teana." Fate climbed off the saddle, walked across Bardiche's shoulder, and leapt gracefully to the ground. Her red eyes soon rested on blue. "Try to show some restraint."
"He was being disrespectful." The redhead crossed her arms and glared at the support personnel helping Bardiche out of his saddle. They were careful they didn't accidentally touch the great beast, because doing so would have cost them their lives.
"He was just following orders and overreacted a bit. It's to be expected." She knew that Teana was just venting her anger from what happened earlier. It wasn't easy for an apprentice to be left out of a sortie, god knows she experienced her fair share of that when she was in other girl's shoes.
"You're right, Master." Teana bowed. "Still, I can't believe he questioned your orders?"
"Like you never have?" Fate meant it as a joke, but her monotone voice didn't carry the humor across.
Teana's head flipped up, her face full of shock. "I…err…"
"Never mind." She waved it off and turned back to the obsidian dragon. "And you, Bardiche, how are feeling after your first battle over Ecclesia?"
Yellow eyes turned to her. "Hungry."
"You never change." Fate brushed some hair out of her eyes and shook her head. "You're probably starving after carrying that Brown half the way."
"Huh?" Teana spoke up suddenly. "A Brown?"
"Long story, Teana." She turned and started off into the camp. "Make sure the handlers feed you adequately, Bardiche. We need you at full strength."
"Aye, Sir." A rumble shook the earth as the large dragon rested its head on the floor, wings and tail tucked firmly against his body.
"What are my orders, Master?" Teana asked as she followed behind her.
Fate didn't answer right away, she was too busy rubbing her right shoulder. During the battle a Brown's tail had clipped it painfully.
"Just ask, anything at all." Teana's voice sounded hopeful, no doubt she was still feeling guilty about being left behind. "Please."
Fate stopped and turned, startling the redhead in the process. "Prepare a bath. Nothing would please me more right now."
Blushing bright red, Teana immediately bowed. "By your will, Master."
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It took longer than she expected to make it back; her proud mount had taken quite a beating during the battle. "You did well." She cast a look back at Laevatein one last time before entering the camp. Signum felt sorry for the old Gold. After a grueling battle he had to share a pen adjacent to Bardiche of all dragons. That Imperial could snore loud enough to wake the dead. If that wasn't bad enough, Mirage was also nearby. When the young Bronze was around Laevatein, the older dragon couldn't help but pick on him.
"Humph." Putting that out of her mind, she had a certain Imperial Highness she needed to talk to. A single soldier promptly saluted her as she passed him. Aside from the pen handlers she met upon landing, that was the first Belkan she saw along the way. They were making themselves scarce, and it probably had something to do with the visiting princess. No one wanted to be responsible for offending a Rossa.
What is she doing here? Signum thought for the hundredth time.
Her unit had been on skirmish duty for six months in the very heart of Ecclesia. The constant fighting around the clock had taken its toll on the Forty-Ninth Dragoons. Out of a full Wing of fifty to start with, they were now down to four. The only dragon that could actually still fly, albeit barely, was Signum's own.
As much good that will do.
Today was their last sortie; with their current roster as it was, it would be impossible to continue on. Soon they were going to be recalled back to Belka or absorbed into a larger Wing on the main front to the north. That's what bugged her. This assignment was dead, so why was the princess even here?
She had to find Lady Testarossa to get those answers, and all she had to do was look for the largest tent. It wasn't that Fate was a pretentious person, far from it, but the base personnel would have insisted on it. Sure enough, a large four sectioned tent was exactly where she found her, or Fate's apprentice to be more precise.
Humans sure do grow up fast.
Teana Lanster had grown considerably since the last time she'd seen her. It had only been three years, but it was long enough to make it hard to recognize the girl. "Long time no see."
The redhead didn't respond, in fact she appeared to be in a daze.
Signum leaned over and waved a hand in front of the girl's face. "Teana." Still no response, so she decided to shift tactics. There was a noticeable increase of bars on the rank crest over Teana's left spaulder. "Major!"
The redhead let out a startled yelp and jumped back. She only realized now that she wasn't alone. "Announce yourself before you…" Whatever Teana wanted to say died on the girl's lips. "…Master Opel?"
"That would be Captain Opel now." Smirking, she gave the redhead a salute. "Major Lanster."
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"If you don't mind I would prefer calling you Master Opel." It didn't matter that she was higher in rank now; as a child Teana practically worshipped the other knight.
"I would prefer that you didn't. You only have one master now and she deserves all of your respect."
"Aye, Captain." Teana bowed humbly, it was truly an honor just to be in the Elva's presence. It was said there no finer dragoon in all of Belka, at least until recently. A new rising star had taken Signum's title as the best of the best, and it was a human Teana was proud to call Master. "I'm glad you finally returned. I heard you made it through the battle unscathed."
"Unharmed, but not unscathed. No battle leaves you without a mark." The pink-haired knight crossed her arms. "But enough of that, where is Lady Testarossa? I need to talk to her."
A blush worked its way on her cheeks. "Busy," she answered evasively.
"Hmm." The Wolkenritter raised an eyebrow. A splashing sound from behind Teana made Signum's brow raise even more. It was the sound of sliding flesh, dripping water, and the occasional relaxed sigh. "I see. You can take the princess out of the palace, but you can't take the palace out of the princess."
She avoided meeting the other knight's gaze. "As I said, the Imperial Highness is otherwise busy. My apologies, Captain."
Signum looked about ready to laugh. "I wouldn't want to disturb you…I mean her."
"W-what do you mean by that?" Teana couldn't help but shift nervously in embarrassment.
"It's just that you have my sympathy." Signum shrugged and gave her a knowing smile. "You're at that age, and it can't be easy serving a Belkan princess. The Rossa bloodline is renowned for its attraction to the fairer sex."
Teana suddenly felt a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead. She wondered if her former idol was a psychic. "That's an old myth, and even if it's not, I assure you it has no effect on me."
This time the pink-haired knight did laugh. "Sure sure. An all female ruling family for three and a half thousand years, and it's still called a myth?" Signum waved at her and turned to leave, laughing even harder. "How else do you think imperial heirs are born if a Rossa can't bear children?"
"I think you have the wrong idea. Only magi could pull off something so…unnatural." She grunted and crossed her arms, Signum was just mocking her. Everyone knew that a noble woman was chosen by the church to be the Queen Mother. From there, by divine providence, the Queen Mother is then blessed with the next generation of Rossa. It had nothing to do with sex. That was just a myth deviant female commoners made up to justify their deviant behaviors. "Hey, where are you going?"
"To check on some things." Signum stopped briefly and met her eyes. "Just make sure no one else peeks."
"W-what you do you mean by 'else'?" Teana called out after the Elva. The dragoon ignored her and walked off into the night. "Humph, that was uncalled for." She let out a sigh and resumed her guard duties.
Everybody always gets the wrong idea. So what if she's a Rossa?
Several minutes went by, several long minutes of her listening to Master bathe.
I'm not like that.
A blush worked its way on her cheeks, and her blue eyes slowly crept over to the tent's flap. It started with a slight shuffle, then a full sidestep, but eventually she reached out and touched the cover.
I'm not…
When she was positive no one was around, her hand began to slide it open.
"Oh I forgot to ask."
"Ahh!" Teana yelped as she jumped back and fell on her rear. She was taken so completely by surprise; no sound, no movement, no sign whatsoever that someone was around. "Huh?" Looking up, Signum was standing over her with another one of those annoying smirks. "I um…errr…"
"Save your elegant speeches for the court." Signum bent down lower to meet her at eye level. "Lady Testarossa took an Ecclesian with her during the battle. Would you happen to know what became of him?"
Blushing furiously, she pointed a shaky finger to the eastern side of the encampment. "O-over in the medical ward. He was unconscious when Master brought him back, so they took him there."
Still smirking, Signum brought a fist to her chest in salute. "My thanks, Major. I'll be back when Her Highness is finished." With that said, the Elva silently disappeared from her view.
Teana quickly got off the floor and looked around. She didn't see a trace of the pink-haired knight anywhere. "How do they do that?"
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Fate lathered her aching shoulder with gentle strokes; it was feeling much better with each passing moment. Bardiche played a large part in that, but the bath helped immensely. In no time at all it would be back to normal.
Four.
She sighed and leaned her back against the tub in thought. Four was the number of Ecclesians she slew today. The very thought of it pained her deeply. She made a promise with herself that she'd never forget what it meant to take a life, lest she turn into another agent of Belka. Soldiers who wantonly killed without remorse. "May the Light forgive me."
She noticed that Signum and Teana had finally stopped bantering outside. She was glad to hear Signum made it back safely, but she did her best to ignore their conversation. Too bad Teana didn't make that easy with her loud voice. "Some things are better off not knowing." She had learned a long time ago the value of not eavesdropping.
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The five year old Fate opened the large marble doors slowly, and her red eyes quickly scanned the room for any sign of the servants. They shouldn't have been anywhere near here, and sure enough, it was empty. Smiling, she went inside and shut the door behind her. "Wow!" The spacious chamber, more a cavern than an indoor room, was simply amazing.
The first thing that drew Fate's attention was the high ceiling. From one side of the room to the other, it was painted with pictures of knights and pointy-eared people fighting. It was very detailed; it had men in armor, dragons soaring through the sky, and even sinister witches using magic. It was nothing like the happy pictures covered on the ceiling at church.
"I wonder if Mama painted it." She knew her mama liked to paint, but she usually drew pretty things. Like the flower gardens in the east palace arboretum, or scenes of Fate and her sister playing in the courtyard.
Walking further in, she noticed there were more pictures carved into the stone walls as well. Down by the door the mural showed families living in tiny houses made of mud, but by the time they reached the back of the room, near the towering windows, the people in the pictures were living in tall brick houses like the ones outside the palace. Every intricately drawn person was happy; they were building, laughing, and praying.
Fate let out a sudden gasp when she caught sight of the view in the immense windows. She quickly ran around the large wooden desk and peered outside. It was the most amazing view of the Al-Hazard she had ever witnessed, snow covered the sea of buildings as far as the eye could see. It made the city look like it was made of crystal. "So pretty." She had laughed the first time Mama told her that Al-Hazard meant 'Sun's throne' in an old language. The sun was supposed to be warm, but it snowed in the city all year.
Tearing her attention away from the Imperial City, she approached the large wooden desk. It was as big as the servant's kitchen table. There were a half dozen seats on one side, and a giant gold-lined chair on the other. Giggling, she crawled onto the gold one. "Humph." It was heavily cushioned, but she couldn't see over the top of the desk. When she was taller, she wanted to come back and pretend to be Mother. It would probably make Mama laugh.
A creaking sound echoed throughout the large room; someone had just opened the marble doors. "Eeh!" Fate leapt under the desk to hide. If the servants found her they'd take her back to the schoolroom for sure. It wasn't fair that Alicia got to go with Mother while she was stuck with those stuffy, gray-haired tutors.
"She did well today," said a man's voice. It was the kind of voice belonging to a man who never took anything seriously.
Fate pressed her face against the floor and looked through the small opening at the bottom of the desk. All she could see were people's shoes. One belonged to a man, one belonged to a woman, and one belonged to a little girl the same size as her.
"I would expect nothing less from my daughter, Jail." said the voice of a cultured woman. She had known that voice by heart. It was the voice of discipline and order, not just for her, but for the entire Empire. It was the voice of the reigning Empress of Belka, a woman conceived by the light, revered by all, and more importantly, it was her mother.
"Come now, Your Highness," Jail's voice retorted playfully. "I have the fullest confidence in our little heir here, but I just don't trust that creature. Nothing good can come from their kind."
"We have no choice," the empress said with a note of finality. "We have exhausted our resources and he is the only ones who possess the key to unlocking the blood."
"I wish you'd let me deal with this myself, Cousin,"
"With your precious science?" the empress said mockingly. "Do you honestly think it will succeed in place of my own abilities?" No answer came from the man. "So I thought, you're the reason why pureborn Rossa are the only ones who inherit the gift, men are way too superstitious. Isn't that right, My Precious Alicia?"
It was then Fate heard another voice she recognized right away, mainly because it sounded identical to her own. "Aye, Mother," a girl answered demurely.
"You shouldn't look so down, Alicia." The empress's voice was warm and loving, a tone she never used when talking to her. "You will make me proud someday."
"Mother," Alicia asked softly, "May I go back to the schoolroom. I want to show Fate what I learned today."
"Listen to me," the empress said sternly. "You will not tell anyone about our learning sessions; not Fate, not Mama, not anyone."
"But the pointy-eared person said…"
"No one!" the empress snapped.
"Aye, Mother," Alicia said quietly. A moment of silence, and then the marble doors opened and closed again.
Fate pressed her face to the floor and saw that only two sets of shoes remained.
"She has already shown more progress than I expected." Jail let out a sigh. "This doesn't feel right."
"Why?" retorted the empress. "She's a Rossa, her abilities should come naturally."
"Only this time it hasn't; her birth tampered with the ethereal soul. Even if Alicia was lucky to get the vast majority of it, her body isn't even set up to levitate a small pencil, let alone the stuff she's being trained for."
"Dealing with her body was well within my power. The problem was her spirit, luckily that's were the specialist comes into play."
"So I noticed, but whatever that creature did to her shouldn't be possible. Mana manipulation is only a myth. It must be doing something else."
"And since when did you become an expert on spellcraft?" Silenced filled the room, it was louder than when the two were talking. Finally the empress began speaking again, "I see, you're disappointed aren't you. For the first time an heir was born that was no better than the rest of humanity. You could smirk, and laugh, and say that finally the Star of Rossa has fallen." The empress let out a laugh. "But you forget we aren't normal."
"That much is obvious. All I'm saying is that magic wasn't the answer to achieve the results you wanted." A note of anger fell into his voice when he spoke those words.
"You're just a jealous and superstitious little man. What would you know?"
"More than you give me credit for, Cousin. Mark my words, science will overcome spellcraft in the end. There is a reason why humans inherited the world."
"Last time I checked," the empress said mockingly, "a single magi controls the most powerful human nation in the world."
"That may be so." The man's shoes started to tap in agitation. "And I won't deny that Alicia has been molded into an adequate heir, but what would an Elva have to gain by helping us? It will only aid the purge against its kind when the heir takes the throne."
"Let's just say it has no qualms about what befalls its kind."
"And you believe it?"
Again the empress laughed. "If you knew what it requested as payment you wouldn't be so quick to question that."
"I don't want to know," the man retorted. "and I don't think we should leave our subject in its care."
"Tampering with Alicia's spiritual link may cause…instability. There is still a need for his expertise. Besides, he knows better than to cross me."
"I believe it's a 'she'."
"Does it matter?" The empress paused. "And that 'subject' is the future empress you're talking about."
"Pardon my poorly chosen words, Cousin." Jail's voice held none of the remorse the words intended. "But if something happens to Alicia…"
"Tsh, you lack faith."
"No, I'm being practical. The other heir is worthless. She's no better than that commoner who gave birth to her."
The empress groaned. "I agree it was a poor decision of my youth, but the church was satisfied enough to make that woman the Queen Mother. She gave birth to an heir didn't she?"
"Two," Jail reminded her.
"Humph, I'll admit having twins was…unfortunate."
"More than unfortunate, that worthless commoner almost destroyed the throne."
"But she didn't."
"It was an unnecessary risk. I did my research, twin blood runs in her family. It made the chances of conflicting with the dominant gene too high."
"Enough, I swear you whine more than a senator." The empress let out a sigh. "Why do I put up with your insolence?"
"Because I keep your naughty little secrets, Cousin," the man stressed the familiar word. He was perhaps the only man in Belka who dared speak to the empress like that.
"Then keep those secrets like the dead." The empress walked over and opened the marble doors. "I grow tired of this. The senate requires my ruling this afternoon, and I have to prepare."
"Very well, Praise be Your Highness." The man walked passed the empress, but was stopped before he left. "Cousin?"
"Keep watching our guest, as you said, I don't trust her."
"I would have done that anyway." With that said, the man left. A moment later the empress followed his exit out of the room.
When the coast was finally clear, Fate slowly crawled out from behind desk; she was feeling very sleepy. Mama had told her never to listen on other people's conversations, and she finally understand why. It just gave you a headache.
00
Her childhood memories were full of moments laden with meaning. At the time she was perhaps the only one who had an inkling as to what was happening, but sadly, in those days she didn't understand enough about the world to do anything about it.
"It was right in front of my eyes the whole time." Fate ran a hand through her extremely long hair and let out a sigh; it was an inconvenience at times, but something in her refused to do away with it. She figured it was part of her vanity that made her keep it. Maintaining appearances was actually a common lesson her Mama emphasized often.
00
"Get out." said a six year old Fate.
"No, it's mine now."
"But I made it." She puffed her cheeks out in frustration. It took her over four hours to make the little snow house, and wasn't just any snow house either, it was an ice palace. It was made from fresh snow she carted all the way from the marble balconies—clean snow devoid of mud and gunk. When her sister Alicia grew up she got to inherit everything, but at least this place was hers and hers alone, or so she thought. She had only been gone long enough to return the tools to the storage room, but when she returned her twin had already taken the one thing that belonged to her. "Please get out."
"And I said no!" A head peeked out from the tiny entrance to the snow house. It was like looking into a mirror. The only thing that could tell her and the girl apart was the way they wore their hair. Hers was short cropped and barely fell over her ears, but Alicia preferred to keep her long hair in twin pigtails. "What are you going to do about it, Fate?"
She looked away from her sister. Mother would punish her in a second if she laid a single finger on Alicia. It wasn't fair. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought," Alicia said with a smirk.
Her sister was being stupid again. "That's not why I want you to get out, it's because I haven't finished packing the inner walls yet. It could collapse on you."
The older of the two laughed and crawled back inside. "Liar!"
That comment upset her even more, but she didn't show it. Fate never lied, Mama said it made you a bad person. "I'm telling you the truth." She wasn't exaggerating. The snow house was rather large and extremely heavy. If it caved in while her sister was still inside, she doubted Alicia was strong enough to push her way out. "It's dangerous in there."
"I'm never coming out, n-e-v-e-r." The taunting voice of her sister started to get muffled as the pigtailed blonde began pushing snow out to block the entrance.
"Wait." Fate leapt to the ground and started pushing the snow back in. "Don't move it. That's the packed snow that forms the wall base."
"Whatever, you always think you're so smart. If you knew how strong I really was you'd be sorry."
"I don't care, you can have the snow house." She noticed the top of the dome was beginning to sag. "Just stop pushing already."
"N-e-v…" Alicia suddenly trailed off.
"Sister?" Fate peeked inside the tiny opening still left.
"Get me out of here!" Alicia began to wail.
This time the older girl was trying to dig her way out, and she did her best to help. She knew perfectly well why her sister sounded so alarmed, the entire dome was starting to shake. A part of her was angry that Alicia had ruined her hard work, but a bigger part of her was worried about her sister. "Don't move around so much, it only makes it worse. I'll get you out."
"Hurry!"
"I'm going as fast as I can." It would have gone faster if Fate still had the digging tools, but she made do with her bare hands. After a minute of frantic digging it started to pay off. "Almost there." Alicia finally pushed her arms through the opening, but that was the moment things took a turn for the worst.
"Ahh!" screamed the older girl. The dome had shook one last time before it completely collapsed on the pigtailed blonde. The muffled screaming soon died away and the courtyard fell into silence.
"…Alicia?" She stared on in shock. One moment she was staring directly in her sister's red eyes, and the next there was nothing but a white mound of snow. Fate's frozen state only lasted a split second before instinct took over. She quickly dived forward and started digging like a crazed gopher. The snow had mixed in with the mud and it wasn't making the task any easier. Mama would scold her for getting dirty, but all that mattered right now was helping her trapped sister. "No!" she said in frustration. No matter how hard she dug with her hands, it wasn't fast enough. She finally pulled back and stood. "I'll go get help!" Two steps and she whipped around on dead run to the servants quarter. That was the moment something exploded and threw her across the ground.
Fate didn't know how long she lay there in the mud, but it wasn't long enough. The ground was cool and soothing, unlike the heated air that surrounded the courtyard. "Ehh…" She groaned and rolled over onto her back. The aches and pains would normally be her first concern, but she suddenly remembered her trapped sister. She quickly bolted up and looked in the direction of the ice palace, or former ice palace. There in the center of the courtyard, where it once stood, was now a blackened circle of scorched earth. At the epicenter rested her sister, and a glowing pattern of red light that circled her form. Her sister's eyes were closed, but she appeared conscious. "Alicia!"
Her voice had finally registered, and Alicia slowly cracked open her eyes. "…Fate," the girl whispered tiredly. Alicia made an effort to stand, only to collapse on the ground a moment later.
"Alicia!" She rushed to her sister's side, but the moment she got there a flash of light made her jump back, shielding her eyes in the process. When she opened them again her sister was gone, vanished, like the girl was never there at all. Fate abruptly choked out a sob that reared in her throat.
"Calm yourself!" said a stern voice from behind her.
She whipped around and saw her mother standing at the other end of the courtyard, a translucent red circle fading from around her.
Her mother was a tall, statuesque Belkan with long violet hair and an impressive figure, but that wasn't her most noteworthy feature. Empress Precia Testarossa possessed the one feature that made her recognizable throughout the Western world, she had a pair of crimson colored red eyes. It was a genetic trait only passed down by a single family, a family that ruled the Empire for over three thousand years.
"Mother…" She was looking at the one person she wasn't expecting to see. Make the two people she hadn't expected to see. Behind the empress was man wearing an Imperial Army uniform. He, like his cousin, had purple hair, a tall build, and dark red eyes. The thing that made them seem worlds apart was their expressions. Mother rarely smiled, and those times were only reserved for Alicia, but Lieutenant General Jail Scaglietti, on the other hand, always smiled and never pleasantly.
"Wipe that stupid look off your face." Precia walked over to where she stood, Jail following close behind. "Your sister is safe. I took her some place to rest."
Fate looked away from the empress, her mother had never addressed her so directly before—normally she would ignore her presence altogether. She looked back at the scorched ground, and her childlike mind tried to wrap around what just happened. The tutors always preached that everything could be explained logically, but at the moment nothing worked. "H-how…"
"That doesn't concern you," Precia said harshly, looking down at her while she stood in the mud.
"But it looked like magic." Fate had definitely said the wrong thing, because her mother grabbed her face and glared at her.
"Listen because I'll only tell you this once. If you value your worthless life, just forget about what you saw."
A chill worked its way down Fate's spine. It wasn't just from her mother's words, because people said mean things out of anger all the time, it was the fact that her mother had meant them. All she could do was nod her head.
"Good." Precia cocked her head to the side. "What were you doing out here?"
"…"
The empress narrowed her eyes. "Speak!"
"I was building a snow h-house," She managed to say, albeit quietly. Her mother suddenly squeezed her cheeks painfully.
"And why would you do that?" There was no warmth in the woman's voice when she spoke
"To play."
"Do you wish to shame us by behaving like some commoner?"
"N-no." Despite the cold, Fate began to sweat. "Alicia snuck into the snow house and…"
Precia cut her off by digging fingernails into her face. The empress pressed so hard it drew blood.
"Don't you dare blame Alicia for your own stupidity?" Her mother quickly ran a finger down her cheek. When the empress pulled back there was a trace amount of dirt on it. "Look at this, you're absolutely filthy." Her red eyes regarded her with disgust.
"I-I'm s-sorry," Fate said fearfully. "It won't happen aga…" She stopped when her mother released her. She thought maybe she was forgiven, but a sharp clap and a sting of pain erased that. Grasping her swelling cheek, she looked up at her mother. It was odd how tears refused to flow, even though she wanted to cry more than anything right now.
"I refuse to have a daughter walking around looking like some filthy peasant." Precia kneeled lower and stared point blank into her scared eyes. "Do you know what a Testarossa is?"
She nodded cautiously. "Our H-House."
"Wrong." The empress slapped her other cheek. "We are the thirty-eighth ruling family to sit on the imperial throne." Again she grabbed her swollen cheeks. "We are the 'true' retainers of Rossa blood." The empress cast a glance at the man standing behind her. "Unlike some branch family mongrels." Her mother suddenly pushed her away and stood back. "Do you understand, Fate?"
She really didn't, but she was too scared to say otherwise. "A-aye."
"Don't lie to me you worthless…"
"Leave her alone, Precia." called out a soft voice, effectively interrupting her mother. All three of them turned to see a woman standing in the snow. The lady was around the same age as the empress and dressed in similar finery. She had a long golden mane that reached all the way to her heels—in a fashion that seemed more like a cape than hair—and her face was flawlessly beautiful with high cheek bones, dark green eyes, and full painted lips. She would have the been beauty personified, had it not been for her sunken, tired eyes and deathly pale skin.
"Shouldn't you be in bed." The empress glared at the blonde, her face wasn't any friendlier than it was before.
The blonde never once made eye contact with the red-eyed noble, instead she looked over at Fate's swollen cheeks and cringed. "I came to check on Fate…and Alicia." When the her sister's name left the woman's mouth, the blonde looked even more tired than she appeared before.
"You knew they were here?" The empress raised an eyebrow.
The blonde nodded. "I can always find Fate or Alicia no matter where they go."
"You should teach me that trick." The empress smirked. "It almost sounds like magic."
"Only the kind of magic that come from the closest of bonds." The pail, sickly woman walked over to scoop her up, and Fate immediately wrapped her cold arms around the woman's neck. "I take it you've already seen to Alicia."
"I always look after my daughter."
The blonde regarded Fate sadly before giving Precia a sideways glance that spoke of disgust. Shaking her head sadly, the lady turned and started to walk back into the palace.
"How are you feeling, Vivia?" the empress called out.
Without turning around, the blonde answered, "I'm managing."
"It will only get worst you know."
The blonde woman hugged her even tighter. "…will it?"
"Verily so." Amusement slipped into the empress's voice. "Consider it god's punishment for the unfaithful."
"I didn't…"
The empress cut her off, "Save it. I don't need to hear excuses from the weak." Precia let a smirk appear on her visage. "You suffer more out of ignorance than indiscretion."
"I want to go now, Mama." Fate said against the blonde's chest.
"So do I. It's cold out here." Ignoring the empress, Vivia Testarossa left the courtyard and entered the palace. When they were finally in the warm confines of the halls, the blonde pulled Fate back and looked her in the eyes. "Always remember to keep up your appearances, Fate. If you wear the perfect mask, and don't open yourself up, then people can't find an excuse to hurt you."
"Aye, Mama."
00
Fate splashed water on her face and tried to rid herself of the memory. Her childhood was never something she cared to reminisce about, but at least it taught her a few lessons that made life bearable.
"Teana!" Fate called out. She had spent enough time in her bath and there were things to do. Stepping out of the steaming water, she reached for a towel sitting on the nearby counter.
The flap to the tent opened and Teana strode in, quickly stopped, yelped, and walked back out. "E-excuse me!"
She turned and raised an eyebrow, her apprentice had been acting strange recently. Shrugging, she wrapped the towel around her naked form. "Can you fetch my armor and effects?" She had sent her armor ahead to the quartermaster to get repaired, and it was probably done by now.
The redhead's voice returned from the other side of the tent flap, "Is your uniform no good?"
Fate shook her head even though Teana couldn't see her. She never liked the cloth uniform, it felt misplaced on her somehow.
00
The somber music finally receded and the entire attendance in the cathedral took their seats. The music was somber, but it was a somber occasion. The Queen Mother of the Belkan Empire had passed away.
An eight year old Fate sat in the front row wearing a simple black dress. Even during the saddest day of her life she couldn't shed a tear; Mother told her it was a sign of weakness. "Mama," she whispered sadly to herself, she missed her so much. Her beloved Mama was the only person in the entire world who truly cared for her.
Looking up, she spotted her mother and sister standing near the other leaders of Belka. There was Regius Gaiz, High Marshal of the Imperial Army; Dorian Lanster, Praetor of the Senate; and even Vance Gracia, Archon of the Light's Church. Along with the Precia Testarossa, Empress of the Belkan Empire, the entire ruling body of over two hundred million people stood in a tight nit group talking politics.
It made her stomach turn. Feeling true anger was foreign to her—the servants once said she inherited her mama's silken temperament—but right now she was furious. Not at her mother's uncaring attitude but at her sister's.
Her twin no longer wore her hair in pigtails, instead she fastened those golden locks into a tight bun. Along with the girl's obsidian army uniform, Alicia looked to be a tiny, blonde-haired version of the empress. Her face was blank, her manner precise, and she even held her conversation with the nation's leaders. It was as if the girl was at another state assembly instead of standing in front of her mama's coffin.
Fate bit her lip to hold back the growl threatening to bubble from her throat; she couldn't afford to let her mask drop, not here of all places. When she finally tasted the copper tang of blood, she was promptly reminded of where she was. Crossing her hands in her lap, she began a silent prayer. That was until she saw Alicia turn slightly and look in her direction. She wasn't looking at her, nor was she looking at the crowd, Alicia's eyes were pointed high. Fate quickly followed her gaze to the stain glass windows near the roof. That's when her eyes widened in surprise. Standing at one of the windows was a cloaked person; black hair poking out from the hood, eyes as white as the moon, but most shockingly of all, skin tinted with a shade of blue. She only managed to catch a glimpse before the person disappeared from sight—he or she didn't move away, the person simply faded into nothingness. Her head shot around to stare at her sister, but when she did the girl was already back to talking with Archon Gracia. The twin acted like nothing had happened.
Fate calmed herself and sat through the dismissing of the crowd. It was a lengthy task about an hour long, but she hardly noticed. She was too busy thinking about what she had saw. Who was that person? She had seen all manner of creature in her life; the Elva Wolkenritter of Hochland, the hand sized Fairen from the woodlands of Cy-Darrow, Fate had even come face-to-face with a five meter tall Lizardman of the Angoya Plains. That strange, white-eyed humanoid was a new first and it unsettled her. Unlike most Belkans she didn't possess a burning hatred for non-humans, but seeing one at her mama's funeral didn't sit well with her. The fact that Alicia didn't acknowledge it made it worst.
"Shouldn't you be leaving?"
Fate looked up and met her sister's crimson gaze. They were supposed to be identical, but she hoped her eyes weren't so cold looking. "Alicia…" She noticed they were the only ones around in earshot. The leaders were still busy having a lengthy conversation with the empress.
"Leave," Alicia said, her voice tinged with a note of command.
The other girl had started talking like that ever since enrolling at the Al-Hazard Military Academy—the youngest cadet to join in history. She didn't know why her sister decided to do it, Mama begged both of them to pursue non-military careers. "I still need to pay my respects to Mama."
"Why?" The blonde wearing the officer uniform raised an eyebrow. "She's dead, move on."
Fate started to tremble with rage. She would have hit Alicia right then and there if they weren't currently at church. "Do you feel nothing?"
"Irritated." Alicia shrugged. "I had to come back from field training for this." The blonde brushed her uniform for any errant lint. "At least I didn't have to change. I like these uniforms, Mother says they make me look older."
Hearing that made her go numb. "I…have to go." She stood up and walked passed her sister, she couldn't look at her right now.
"Auf Wiederschauen," Alicia called out in ancient Belkan—those words were intended for goodbyes. The heir said them in a connotation laced with humor.
Fate came to a stop, not bothering to turn around. "You…"
"I what?"
"…never mind."
00
Teana placed the bundle on the table by the bathtub. "Here you go, Master."
Fate shook off her thoughts. "Thank you." She went over to inspect the armor.
The redhead made a mood to leave. "Do you need help dressing?" Teana fidgeted nervously by the exit.
Armor was a time consuming feat when you had to put it on yourself, but she needed that time to prepare. "I'll be fine." She watched as Teana nodded and left.
Fate turned back to her armor and ran a hand over the imperial crest resting on the left spaulder. It was comprised of three symbols. The right symbol of the crest was a sun rising over a plain of snow, the crest of authority, it represented the glory of the Rossa that shines on Belka. To the left of the sun symbol sat a dragon with spread wings, that was the crest of duty, that represented the military that solidified the strength of the Empire. The final symbol in the middle, and the largest, was a golden cross, the was the crest of faith, it represented the Holy Light and the sacrifice paid by humanity in its service.
"Authority, duty, and faith." She had been sworn to those tenets the day she decided to wear the uniform.
00
A twelve year old Fate crossed her two sabers and intercepted the overhead slash of the cadet dueling her. He was slow, and it was easy for her to break away with a spin. The boy let out growl of frustration, but that instantly turned into a sigh of defeat when she pressed in and jabbed him on the chest with a thrust. "Call."
The boy backed away and bowed. "Out."
She aligned her right saber vertically to her face in salute. After that she turned to the instructor. "Match six called."
"You are truly a Rossa," a balding man said with a nod. He was dressed in the black uniform of the Imperial Army with a golden crest over his neck. The lightning marks on the sides of the national symbol represented his rank, a Field Marshal—a rank just under their highest of High Marshal. It would have seemed excessive that a man of his status would supervise her training, but at the academy they spared no expense when it came to the princess. "Has this become too easy for you, Your Highness?"
The man was jesting, but in truth, it had. After winning the Melee Konkurrenz—an annual tournament held in honor of martial prowess—training sessions at the academy were nothing. "It keeps me sharp."
"Indeed." The Field Marshal narrowed his eyes at the cadet that dueled her. "You didn't hold back did you?"
The boy, four years older than she was, straightened and grimaced. The instructor must have insulted him. "Never," he said firmly. "The moment we crossed swords we became adversaries. I gave it my all."
"As it should be." The balding man turned back to her and nodded his approval. "You make the academy proud. Soon you may even match the prestige your sister earned."
That was the story of Fate's life. Everything she did, her sister had done it better. When it came to academics at the Cathedral Acadium, Alicia blew past it a year faster than she did. When it came to the Military Academy, the older twin had already graduated as the youngest cadet in history at the age of ten—eight years before the normal age group of graduates—and took away record after record; tactics, application, and even fighting. She may have held the championship this year for the Melee Konkurrenz, but it was only because Alicia chose not to attend. "I try to make my namesake proud."
"As it should be." the balding Marshal said again. "You should be done for now, Your Highness. Retire for an hour and then meet class eight on the mustering field. We need to continue your mount exercises."
She internally cringed, but she didn't show any of that reservation on her face. "Aye, Sir." She hated mount training, and she especially despised horses. They never seemed to like her either, because even the most trained and seasoned beast had a tendency to bite her. Mounts in general were infuriating. She never knew why any knight would purposely choose a path that put their faith into an animal. She personally vowed never to trust any creature bigger than a puppy.
Fate sheathed her blades and headed out of the training center. Her steps started to falter the moment she neared the large doors. It was the same time her vision became afflicted with vertigo. "Eeh…" She swayed slightly before she closed her eyes to regain her balance. Taking a deep, steadying breath she opened them again. That was when she let out a gasp and looked around. One minute she was at the academy, the next she was standing in a snow laden courtyard. She recognized this area as the palace, but that was impossible. Her former home was clear on the other side of the city.
"I see it worked."
She spun and stared at a familiar sight. Red eyes, black uniform, and bright blonde hair done in a bun; Alicia was still an oppressive presence since Mama passed away. "How…"
"Forget about the how." Alicia smirked, a very Precia-like expression that she inherited. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about insubordination. I'm your superior after all."
She went rigid and brought a fist to her chest in salute. "Forgive me…Colonel." It was safer just to play her sister's game. For years now she'd known Alicia possessed certain abilities, abilities that went by many different names, like heresy.
Alicia haphazardly returned the salute. "Good to see the academy did you some good. You're finally showing me the proper respect." The older girl crossed her arms behind her back and stepped closer, looking Fate over with a scrutinizing eye. "That uniform looks good on you."
It was the first time Alicia had seen her in it. The two hadn't met face-to-since since she joined the academy two years ago. "It's no different from what you see when looking into a mirror."
"Not true." Alicia motioned to Fate's hair. It was long now, reaching all the way to the small of her back, and was tied off at the end with a black ribbon. "That can't be regulation."
"It was allowed."
"I'm sure it was," Alicia said with a smile. "I like it. It kind of makes you resemble Mama with that style."
"Don't talk about her." She stepped away from her sister. "You don't deserve that right."
"And you do? I seem to recall her forbidding the both of us from joining the military. Yet, here you are."
That comment struck deep to the bone. It was true that her current path was opposed by the Queen Mother, but after her death she was left with little choice. Leaving for the academy was the only way to escape from the palace's nightly disturbances; like unexplained deaths among the servant staff, or even the strange presence that always followed her around. She was only standing in the palace courtyard, yet she could still feel it even now, like a second set of eyes were on her. "Why have you brought me here?"
"Would you buy that I just wanted to say hi?"
"No."
"Tsh, you're no fun." Alicia stopped and turned. "Heh, the truth is I just brought you here to see if I could do it."
"Do what?" She didn't like her sister's tone of voice. It sounded so empty.
Alicia smirked. "Kill you."
Fate backed away in alarm. "Kill me?" At first she thought it was some kind of sick joke, but Alicia's red eyes didn't bat an eyelash. She came to an abrupt halt, an unseen force had suddenly seized her and bound her limbs. The temperature of the courtyard was cold, but the icy grip that wrapped around her was below arctic. "W-what did you do to me?" She couldn't move a muscle.
"Nothing yet." Alicia pulled out a knife from her the long officer coat and approached Fate.
It was unlike any blade she had ever seen. Her first thought was that it was made of crystal, but that notion faded the moment Alicia placed it against her throat. It was cold enough to chill her to the bone. "Ice…" This wasn't the first time she experienced magic, Fate had caught glimpses of it from time to time in the palace, but this was the first time she felt true revulsion against it. Her years of church teachings and military training made her want to lash out on instinct. Sadly, with her immobile state, that was impossible.
"Isn't it grand?" retorted the older of the two. Moving the ice blade higher, it earned an involuntary yelp from her. "Don't act so surprised. You can't be so blind that you haven't noticed what I am."
Fate had noticed, but she spent her time running away from that horrible truth. Humans were a species devoid of magic; they could see it, touch it, sense it, but they couldn't mold it to their will. It was an infallible fact of the world. "I know the truth." The truth was that her sister—a descendant from an ancient line that swore to abolish magic—was granted the same heretical power she was sworn to destroy. She knew that it had something to do with their mother, because the violet-haired empress was obviously a magi herself. "You'll burn one day for betraying the Light."
"Heh, are you threatening me, Sister?" Alicia smiled and released the dagger. The thing remained against her neck as it suspended in midair. "I wouldn't move if I were you."
"If the people knew…"
"Who would believe such a farfetched accusation?" The older twin let out a snicker. "It's preposterous!"
She turned away from Alicia's mocking red eyes; the movement caused the ice blade to dig into her skin. "Verily so."
"Now now, at least holier-than-thou Fate had enough sense to keep it to herself."
"That's not why I remained silent."
"Oh?"
She debated whether or not the other girl would appreciate a thing called loyalty. "I said nothing out of consideration for the family."
"For the family?" Alicia seemed genuinely surprised. "You're kidding me?"
"Don't mock me. I wouldn't lie."
"But we're not even your family, Fate. Haven't we made that clear all these years?"
"We shared the same womb." She looked hard at her twin. "Blood is blood. That is enough for me."
"Poor, Fate. Blood is nothing but a tool to house the soul." Alicia shook her head. "Want to know a secret, one that Mother isn't even aware of?" The older blonde stepped closer and leaned forward. "Did you know there is only one Rossa soul?"
"What are you talking about?"
Alicia ignored her and continued, "A true Rossa is a single soul divided into two, the mother and the heir. When it's my time I shall inherit it all and begin the cycle anew—it's a practice that has kept us alive for a very long time." Alicia shrugged. "Mother is mother, and I am the heir." The girl paused and then pointed at her. "So what are you?"
"Confused."
"I bet." Alicia shook her head and snickered. "But I'll tell you what you are, you're the mistake that has held me back, the one who has limited my potential." All humor drained from the older girl's face. "You're the reason I'm a failure."
Fate couldn't believe her sister had accused her of that. No matter what she did in her life there was no way she could outshine the beloved successor. Alicia Testarossa was better than her at everything and the people recognized the girl for it, especially Mother. "I didn't do anything."
Alicia's hand shot out and slapped her hard. "You stole a piece of my soul you pathetic leech!" A grimace formed on the older girl's twelve year old face. "It was all your fault that I was robbed of my whole. Too bad Mother didn't have the heart to deal with you at the time. Instead, I was the one who was fixed. All that trouble…" Alicia's eyes narrowed. "…and all that pain!"
Fate was beginning to think her sister had finally lost grip on reality. "You're not making any sense, just calm down." The blade against her throat pressed harder, but instead of drawing blood, it turned the touching skin into ice. "Ahh!"
"You have no idea how much I've suffered because of you, but don't worry. I'll pay you back with interest." The older girl stepped back and extended an arm forward. With a wave of that hand a red symbol formed in the air between them. Alicia placed her free arm through the symbol and it disappeared from sight.
She gasped.
"Save it," Alicia retorted. "The best is yet to come."
The older girl dragged the arm from the symbol and it slowly reappeared, but rather than being empty, a dagger was clenched in her hand. The air around the two girls instantly heated to the point where the snow on the ground began to melt. Mainly because the blade clenched in Alicia's hand was made of an unnatural fire—its heat was intense, but it neither harmed nor bothered the girl holding it. The dagger looked similar to the one made of ice, but this fire one emulated the design of a typical double-edged Belkan blade. The ice dagger, although magical, was curved with a single sharpened side.
"Pretty isn't it?" Alicia ran a finger harmlessly along the fire blade. "The wonders of magic…do you know why humans aren't able to use it?"
Come think of it, no one ever mentioned the why, just the fact that humans couldn't. "No," she answered honestly.
Alicia beamed. "Because of the soul. A being who was created from the primal weave of mana, like the Elva, can use magic because their souls exist within weave. It's like a fish being born with the ability to breath underwater." She pointed her fire dagger at Fate. "But humans are creatures spawned from the world, like animals. No one created you with intelligent design, and do you know what that means?"
"…"
"Cat got your tongue, Sister?" Alicia giggled. "I'll tell you what it means. Humans don't have souls, without them, they can't touch the weave like magi can."
"May the Light help you," Fate said in a near whisper. "Is there no end to your heresy?"
"Funny how humans call the truth heresy."
"Funny how you keep saying 'humans' as if you aren't one."
"I'm not." Alicia twirled the fire dagger around. "I have a soul."
She had heard enough of this. If Fate was able to, she would have pulled her sabers and struck her sister down. "Release your spell, Magi. Enough of these games."
"Games!" Alicia sneered. "Do you have any idea what you being alive has done to me?" Those identical red eyes suddenly shifted to somewhere over Fate's shoulder to the empty courtyard. "No, I will not calm down!" she called out, even though Fate had said nothing. Again she carried on as if someone was talking to her, "You can't stop me. I'll do what Mother was too soft to do, maybe then the pain will stop."
"Alicia…" It had finally gotten worst. Growing up she noticed that Alicia had a penchant for talking to herself when she thought no one was around. On several occasions she caught Alicia saying the weirdest things to empty rooms. As a child she chalked it up to an imaginary friend, but the odd behavior persisted well into their early teens.
"She's the reason…she stole my soul…" The older girl's grip on the fire dagger tightened.
Fate's eyes widened, she recognized the subtle shift in her sister's posture. The girl was ready to strike and there was nothing she could do to stop her. Curse the magic that bound her, it was truly the power of darkness the scriptures spoke of. "Don't."
Shaking her head, Alicia lunged forward.
Fate was ready to close her eyes and accept the inevitable, but something unexpected happened. The ice dagger, still at her neck, quickly flipped around and parried Alicia's fire blade at the last second. It momentarily dazed the older girl, and before she could recover, an invisible force slammed Alicia to the ground. As the blonde tumbled, the dagger in her hand flew out and rolled across the ground, making a long scorched line in its wake.
Alicia quickly flipped her head around in shock, a feeling that was mirrored by her own eyes. "How dare you!" screamed the older girl.
Before Fate could utter a sound, the force that bound her limbs vanished. "Eh…" She fell to her knees in gasp. Fate was no novice to combat, in fact she was one of the most deadliest swordswomen in Al-Hazard. She didn't waste pointless time pondering her good fortune, instead she drew her two sabers and leapt atop of her downed sister. In an instant the two swords were crossed against the other girl's throat. "Flinch and I'll do the same. Trust me, if I do that it won't be pretty."
Alicia barely uttered a breadth, lest she tempt her. "You won't do it."
"I don't have a soul, remember, so why should I care?" She thought that turning the tables on the other girl would feel good, but instead it made her sick to her stomach. There was something really wrong with her sister, aside from the fact she wielded heretical powers, and her first instinct was to get Alicia some help. "Just…don't move."
"I won't." The older girl smirked.
Fate was ready to retort, but the blades in her hand started to shake. Before her very eyes, from the hilt to the tips, her prized sabers crumbled to dust. "What the…" Something hard slammed into the back of her head and knocked her to the side. With a skid, she landed face up in the snow.
"I would thank you, but why did you stop me in the first place?" She heard Alicia say while her eyes were closed in pain. Instead of no answer, like she had expected, a new voice retorted, "Because I waz hired toe make you strongra, notoe helpa you make murdra." The voice was thickly accented Common, and almost hard to make out. It was neither the voice of a woman, nor a man.
Fate painfully opened her eyes. When the light hit them, it made her already aching head throb even more. As her vision finally cleared, she was met with an eerily familiar sight. A blue skinned figure stood in the snow holding the ice dagger from earlier. A brown hood was pulled over the face, but she was positive the person had white colored eyes.
Alicia slowly turned and regarded her. "I should do it…I should finally reclaim what's mine."
The robed figure shook its head. "Ita no giva whatoe you think it will."
"But…"
"No," the blue-skinned person said firmly, sliding the ice dagger into the brown robes it wore. "You Mothra saya so."
"Humph, Praise be the Empress." The eleven year old heir ground her teeth together and stood over Fate. "I will only tell you this once, Dear Sister. If you value your worthless life…"
A sense of déjà vu struck her and she realized just how similar Alicia was to their mother. Maybe there was something to that whole 'Rossa having one soul' comment.
"…stay away from the palace." The older girl shook her head. "No, that won't be good enough. Get away from Al-Hazard and never come back." Alicia reached out a hand and a symbol flashed to life.
The vertigo instantly returned. One minute she was laying in the snow, the next she was laying a hardwood floor, her vision filled uniformed cadets.
"Your Highness!" one of the boys said in alarm. It was the one she sparred with before being brought to the courtyard.
"She's injured!" called out a second cadet. "Someone get a medic..."
00
Fate looked in the mirror and nodded to herself. Her draped cloak was fastened snugly, the imperial crested claymore was firmly secured on her back, and her obsidian armor was set to perfection. She was grateful she wasn't born a male because the process would have taken far longer. Men used armor almost twice as thick and heavy as the ones given to females, but it must have been some cruel joke. When the designers crafted the female sets, they blatantly did so to accentuate the feminine assets. Yes it was attractive to the eyes, but the maker probably never intended them for actual combat. Only noble women were allowed into the Imperial Army, and those were usually assigned to cushy positions due to that fact. Fate wasn't like most nobles, and her position among the dragoons wasn't for show either.
00
"Remember the code! You are soldiers, you are officers, but more importantly you are Knights of the Empire!"
A cheer suddenly bellowed out from the crowd and it jarred the fourteen year old Fate from her daydreaming. Remembering herself, she joined in even though her soft voice was easily swallowed by the crowd's baritone.
"Good, this class has some spirit after all," said the voice of High Marshal Regius Gaiz.
She was listening to his speech, same was everyone else, but she couldn't even see the man talking from her vantage point. She was completely dwarfed by the cadets around her, cadets that were all male, four years older, and much taller than she was. It made her stick out like a sore thumb but she didn't mind. At least they obliged her request and allowed her to attend with the rest of the cadets. For once it didn't feel like she received special treatment.
"Remember that spirit in the trials ahead," the man said proudly. "You all have your assignments. Some of you will move on to join the millions in the army. Whether you are sent to guard our interests against the mongrels of Ecclesia, or even sent to aid in the western purge, never forget your training."
Fate wasn't surprised to see the largest majority of cadets bellow a cheer. There was no army in the entire world mightier than that of the Empire's, and it needed the most knights to maintain it.
"For others," Gaiz said once the crowd died down, "you may find yourself taking to the sea. In recent years the Imperial Navy has been ridiculed by the Ecclesians for being inferior, so it will be your job to show them how misplaced that notion is."
Again a portion of the crowd cheered, a much smaller one this time. Belka was mainly a landlocked nation between the western forests and the eastern steppes. To the south lay the Elestrian Sea and the tiny southern continent of Ecclesia. Trying to maintain a large navy in that region was challenging when their southern neighbor's economy was based on maritime trade.
"For those few of you who are left…"
Fate stood a little straighter this time.
"…you will be sent to the elite of elites, the pride of Belka, and the symbol of our power throughout the world." The high marshal let a deep respect slip into his voice. "You will be sent to Hochland where you will be trained as Dragoons!"
This time only a mere handful let out a cheer, and she was proudly among them. Fate was granted the rarest honor of becoming a dragon knight and it was only done by earning it, regardless of nobility—even Alicia had failed to become a dragoon, and her twin had always been better at everything else.
"Well then." The high marshal cleared his throat. "Dismissed cadets, Praise be the Empress!"
"Praise be the Empress!" The entire assembly cheered as a whole one last time. After the excitement finally died down, the cadets started to file out of the assembly hall. The three different braches orderly formed into separate groups and went to their assigned areas. Fate, and a few others, had to go to the mustering field to meet their new superiors. Of course the other cadets gave her a wide space. Even with the same uniform and rank, it still didn't change the fact she was a Rossa.
"She's really coming with us," whispered a boy to the front of the group.
"Shush, she can hear you," retorted another boy.
She decided to ignore them like she always did. Today was her last day as a cadet, and she could finally say goodbye to Al-Hazard and the imperial family once and for all. Fate lived her life each day in an attempt to put the past behind her, but this was the first time she could do it literally. Hochland—the location of the Sky Citadel—was as far from Al-Hazard as she could get in Belka.
By the time their little group entered the east hallway, they ran into a woman adorned in silver and red armor leaning against a window. Everyone stopped, the woman was not only dressed in foreign colors, but she was blatantly non-human.
One of the boys to the front growled in his throat. "What are you doing here, Elva!?"
The pink-haired knight calmly turned her head and cocked it sideways. "That's Captain to you," she said calmly.
The boys shared a laugh, but Fate stood at the back and didn't utter a sound. Her fellow cadets were making a big mistake out of ignorance; she had seen those colors before. The female knight wasn't just an Elva, she was a Wolkenritter.
The pink-haired knight didn't seem bothered by the mocking of the eighteen year old boys, instead the Elva's attention was firmly fixed on her. "I wish I knew what was so funny." The Wolkenritter leaned off the window and turned to face the group fully.
Laughter completely died off to be replaced by shock. There, on the now uncovered left spaulder, was the rank crest of the Imperial Dragoons. "Captain!" The entire group, Fate included, immediately snapped to attention and saluted the woman.
The boy, who initially spoke, bowed deeply. "My apologies! I didn't know you were a…"
"Forget it," interrupted the Wolkenritter. She still seemed unfazed by the whole ordeal. "Everyone report to the muster field, the other dragoons are waiting for you. Everyone but Lady Testarossa."
The other boys turned to Fate in nervousness. It was a taboo in the academy to acknowledge anyone by their social status. They weren't supposed to be nobles or commoners here, they were supposed to be knights in training.
"Well?" The pink-haired girl raised an eyebrow. "Go!"
The boys tore their eyes from Fate and took off down the hall; they didn't need to be told twice. Eventually it was just her and the Wolkenritter in the hallway.
"So you're the second daughter." The Wolkenritter walked around Fate and appraised her.
"Captain," she said quietly. "Your orders?"
The pink-haired knight laughed. "I can't give you orders, Lady Testarossa. No one but Her Imperial Highness can do that."
"But…"
"Forget about your time at the academy. You can spout the code all day if you want, but outside is the real world. Even if you're a lowly cadet, the princess still outranks a high marshal." The pink-haired girl leaned over and looked her in the eyes. "You're a Rossa. Never forget that because no one else will."
"Aye, Captain," Fate said neutrally.
"Okay then." The Wolkenritter righted herself and walked a bit always. "From here on I'll be your master and you'll be my apprentice. Only in role, not in rank. If anyone suggests otherwise I'll kill them myself."
"Aye…Master." She looked up and saluted. The duty of regular knights fell under the chain of command, but dragoons, on the other hand, were separately trained as apprentices to masters. It was the only real way to learn how to use the abilities gained from the dragon's pact.
"Captain Signum of House Opel, Seventh Family in the Wolkenritter Kin, First Daughter of Bishop Opel of the Holy Church." The pinked-haired knight smirked. "Just call me Signum."
She couldn't possibly use a superior's first name. "But…"
"If you call me 'Master,' I would have inadvertently disrespected you." Signum shrugged. "I not looking forward to killing myself, so just call me Signum."
It still seemed way too personal, but she relented out of courtesy. "Very well, Lady Signum."
"Just Signum."
"But..." Her new master glared at her. "Aye, Signum."
"Good." Despite the pink-haired knight's whole speech about their social place, Signum reached over and patted her on the head. "Now come, Lady Testarossa. We have someone special to meet."
Her master started to walk off down the hall in the opposite direction of the mustering field. "Don't we have to join the others?"
"Those knights are headed for the Sun Hatcheries. I'm sure they'll receive fine mounts that will be the pride of the Empire." Signum looked over at her. "But you're a Rossa. Making a pact with a Sun is beneath you."
Fate blinked. "Then…where are we going?"
"You'll see."
00
Fate checked herself one last time in the mirror to make sure she was presentable. Her weapons was secure, her long blonde hair was tied off at the end with a black ribbon, and even her armor shined with a glossy finish. She was finally ready to go meet her enemy and make a deal with the devil.
There was just one little item that she needed to get first. Walking back to the counter, she leaned over and grabbed a shoebox sized case from the pile of effects Teana had brought in. Inside was a trinket she picked up on the day the war started.
00
"That light is unnatural," Bardiche said flatly. They were quickly approaching a glow on the horizon. It was clearly noticeable in the pitch black night.
A sixteen year old Fate had to agree. "Definitely magic, and lots of it. I could smell it a kilometer away."
When forming a pact with a dragon there were many abilities gained in the contract. One such skill was the bane of magi, a dragoon's magic nullifying ability. It was a rare skill to cultivate, and only a handful could actually pull it off—a tremendous amount of focus and training were required to use even its basic forms. Fate was a prodigy in that sense. Over the years, spellbreaking was the one ability she excelled out beyond all other, so much so that she was nationally credited as the Empire's premier spellbreaker. That was why she was among those hastily recalled back to the capital during their nation's greatest catastrophe.
All around Fate flew several Wings of dragoons; hundreds of Golds, a few dozen Bronze, and her own single Imperial. They were all headed in the same direction. "Ride harder, Bardiche. We are almost at Al-Hazard," she said calmly despite the gravity of the situation.
It didn't take long for the aerial armada to reach the outskirts of the city. "By the Light!" said a Gold rider to the right. She agreed with the man's assessment, this wasn't just a small fire, the capital was completely ablaze.
"We take our leave, Your Highness!" called out several captains that were flying in her formation. They all banked and took command of their specific Wings. This wasn't what they all trained for, but there was only one logical thing to do, put out the fires before they consumed more of their precious bastion.
Fate watched as the majority headed off to Lake Ministra. There they could find a source of water that could be airlifted back to the city. The army should already be waiting for them before they arrived. "Head to the center," she ordered Bardiche as they swept over the largest city in the Western world.
The epicenter of the catastrophe, as she feared, turned out be the Palace District. It appeared to be completely engulfed in a raging inferno. While there were fires spreading throughout the entire city, the next major devastated area was the surrounding Political District. The Belkan Senate, the Grand Cathedral, and even Reich Citadel was in flames. "How could this happen?" She could spot moving shapes down below, and when she narrowed her vision, she could see they were people. Hundreds, if not thousands of the people were running about down there doing their best to slow the flames.
"Futile," Bardiche grunted.
She hated that he was right; this wasn't a normal fire that could be put out with water. "We have to destroy the source of the spell." She had a terrifying suspicion of were that might be. In truth, her prowess as a spellbreaker wasn't just talent, she religiously trained for a day, like now, when she'd need it the most.
As they neared the epicenter, there were already a dozen forms circling around the nonexistent palace. It was the rarest sight she had ever seen. Black dragons, some ancient, some no older than Bardiche, all were flying together above her childhood home. "I can't believe it…"The imperial family was out in the open. They were the most elusive of citizens, and all of them came from the branch families of the Rossa bloodline. Traditionally they bickered and schemed, hated one another with a passion, and never showed their faces unless it served to increase their prestige, but here they were for the first time ever uniting for a common goal. It heartened Fate's resolve to see some of her fellow red-eyed nobles swoop down and pour water over the blazes, or even use their mighty beasts to bat the flames away with their sweeping dives. "They choose now of all times to get along."
One of the larger Imperials broke off and headed for her position. Quickly it fell into formation beside her. "Princess!" the rider called out.
It was the first time that man had ever addressed her so formally. "Lord Scaglietti, what's happened here?"
Things must have truly gone to hell. He wasn't smiling. "A needless question for a dragoon, can't you sense it?" His infuriated voice easily carried over the wind thanks to her dragon enhanced hearing.
"What has she done?" she abruptly shouted back without thinking, her main focus was looking down at the swirling inferno on the ground.
"Her?" a cautious Jail retorted.
"The time for playing games are over." She looked over at the man and watched him narrow his eyes in contemplation. "I'm not a fool. There is a good reason the center of this whole mess is the palace. Now out with it."
Jail swept closer and his dragon was wing to wing with Bardiche. "It happened an hour ago while your mother was addressing the senate. One minute she was speaking, the next she collapsed on the floor."
Fate's eyes widened. "The senate…" Her eyes looked over to the Political District. There wasn't much left of the ancient building.
The man caught on to her line of thought. "She's safe, though her condition is still unknown. We moved her to the Financial District before the fires hit." The man paused, sneering in hatred. "As you can see, the fires originated here at the palace. The first reports from the guards told us they were under attack."
"We were attacked?" She was convinced this had something to do with her sister. An unstable magi in the heart of the capital was the only logical conclusion. "Who?"
"Who else?" Jail retorted. "Elva magi from Ecclesia."
That didn't make sense. She had met with many Ecclesian diplomats over the years, and they always seemed to be a peaceful people. "Are you sure?" This wasn't a trivial accusation. If the Ecclesians were truly responsible for this it could easily mean war.
For the first time since she arrived, the man smiled. "Of course I'm sure. They were Graycloaks."
Fate's jaw tightened. "Then it's true then." It was a terrifying thought to think she'd be pitched against her own blood, but this was entirely different. Belka, her Belka, was attacked by a foreign power. There could be no mistaking it if Graycloaks were involved. "What of my sister?"
Jailed held out an arm and motioned to the central inferno. "Down there. She had to be their target."
There were too many questions buzzing around in her mind, but there was a time and place for answers, and it wasn't now. "What should I do then?"
It was the worst possible question to ask the man. "You want me to tell you what to do?" He let out a mocking laugh. "Silly girl. Your mother is incapacitated, your sister's whereabouts are unknown, and the majority of the senators are burnt to a tiny crisp. The only one with the authority to be barking orders is you." He smirked. "Maybe I should be asking 'you' what 'I' need to do?"
A chill worked its way down Fate's spine. It never once crossed her mind that she, or all people, would be in charge. Mother had made it painfully clear that the throne would never be hers. "I…" She was on the verge of panic now. She didn't know what to do. How could the weight of responsibility fall onto her shoulders? She was only sixteen.
Again the violet-haired man let out a mocking laugh. "Calm yourself, Princess. God has granted you a reprieve."
"What do you mean?"
Jail shrugged. "Imperial law withholds all official power from heirs until they reach the age of twenty-one. In that time the rule of Belka falls to the Praetor of the Senate. Since that seems impossible for the time being, it then falls to the Imperial Steward." Red eyes met red. "Me."
"Stop toying with me, especially at a time like this!" A growl of anger worked it's way through Fate's throat. "Do you have no respect for the lives that were lost tonight?"
"Oh I do, Princess. Certainty I do." Jail smiled again, and not a warm one either. "I'll compensate the people ten fold for the insult of this night." He motioned at the chaos below. "But first things first, as my first order to you as ruler, respectfully of course, I ask that you enter that inferno and put a stop to this before we lose more of the city."
She looked at the man as if he was crazy.
"It's not what you think." Jail let out another laugh, an action he was way too fond of. "I've already analyzed it. As you can probably tell it's magic based. As the esteemed spellbreaker, I'm sure you're the only one qualified to deal with it."
"There are limits," she reminded him. Spellbreaking was a tiny barrier, not a blanket of protection.
"Relax, Princess. I wouldn't want anything to happen to our precious heir. The spell works like a tornado that periodically pulses outwards. The eye of the storm is no doubt calm, or it would have already destroyed the caster that created it."
"If what you say is true…" Fate instantly banked and headed for the center of the inferno. "Delaying will only cost more lives."
She heard Jail call out from behind her, "God speed, Princess." He laughed one last time before turning off in the opposite direction, probably going to gather the scattered Belkan leaders.
Fate had a clear shot straight to the ground. The other dragons in the sky were nowhere near the epicenter where the flames were the hottest. Fortunately, a little heat and fire was nothing to Bardiche. Thanks to their pact, she was able to handle the heat as well. The only thing left was a leap of faith—a gigantic leap since she was trusting a man that despised her. "Praise be the Light he's telling the truth!"
"We'll find out soon enough, Sir," Bardiche said the moment the they hit the firestorm.
00
Fate removed the three locks on the tiny case and opened it. Inside was the closely guarded item she kept with her ever since she found it. "This is the only clue to what happened that night."
00
Bardiche crashed into the stone walls. It was a rough landing, but they expected it to be. The great beast groaned and reached out with his claws to grab a footing. After leveling an entire section of the palace, he finally came to a painful stop.
"Are you okay?" She quickly unbuckled herself from the saddle and crawled over to the dragon's neck. "Bardiche?" Her dragon had positioned his body to take the brunt of the landing and it had cost him. He was still too young. The Imperial had not fully developed the hardened scales found in older dragons.
"I'll live, Sir." Bardiche made a small rumble in his throat when Fate stroked his head gently. He had been doing that ever since he was a hatching. Bardiche might be the same size as an adult Gold, but for Imperials he was still a baby.
"Sorry." She looked around and noted that Jail had been correct in his assumption. The entire area was swallowed by a spinning wall of fire, but the center appeared calm. All that was left of the palace was a small section not caved in by Bardiche's landing. "At least we made it." She slid down the side of the dragon and landed in the standing hallway. "Please wait here."
"Aye, Sir." Bardiche grunted and tightened his hold on the stone.
Fate quickly drew the two sabers attached to her hip and proceeded inside. Signum had tried to train her away from her weapons of choice, since they were useless for dragoons, but going into this she trusted nothing else. She could moderately wield a lance, but years of training without enhanced strength had made that too awkward for her. It seemed, oddly enough, that the only dragoon weapon she had a penchant for was the famed Zweihander Schlaeger—a two handed claymore wielded only by specialized Wolkenritter.
After a few steps she recognized this part of the palace; it led to her mother's study. She was a little girl the last time she was here, and if she remembered correctly, it was because she was hiding from the servants that day. "Eeh!" Fate groaned when a wall section fell over and slammed against her right leg. It left a nasty gash and it made her regret not brining her armor—not that it do much good in a fight against a magi. She was wearing her black Imperial Army uniform instead.
As she limped over to the large marble doors, her experienced eye picked up the signs of a fight. Pockmarked holes, scorched walls, and other telltale signs of forced entry. Fate leaned her shoulder against one of the doors and pushed it open slowly. She wouldn't be caught off guard; her senses were open to anything.
Anything but what she saw. "What…" She trailed off as she stepped into the room fully. There were bodies everywhere. Men, and a few women, all clad in gray uniforms covered with long gray cloaks.
Jail had been right again. There was no mistaking Graycloaks—the elite magi deployed by the Ecclesian Federation. Dragoons were the main bulwark of the Empire's power—when it came to the skies, and pure strength, Belka had a supreme advantage over their smaller southern neighbor. That's why the Graycloaks were the Ecclesian's balancing force. Since the human nations of the Federation didn't share Belka's aversion to non-humans, they protected the Elva who supplied them with magi in return. Those spell casters signified themselves by donning gray colored robes over their army uniforms, hence the term Graycloaks were born.
Fate couldn't believe what she was seeing; Ecclesia really did send their elites. She limped over to one of the prone forms on the floor. Using her boot, she slid back the hood on the cloak. It just confirmed the obvious, the dead man had long tapered ears. It was strange how it still surprised her even though she'd seen a similar sight on her master for years. "Elva."
Shaking her head, she quickly scanned the entire room. All the Graycloaks appeared to be dead, but none of them seemed to have any obvious wounds. It was hard to use her abilities to determine how they died; there was just so much magic swirling around that it made her senses go haywire.
"Ehh." The groan was soft, but it echoed in the quiet room.
Fate whipped her head around to the large desk. Limping as fast as she could, she walked around the corner to follow the source of the noise. She soon stopped cold. "Alicia…" She had pictured this scene many times in her head. She resigned herself to one day facing her sister ever since that incident in the courtyard years ago, but she suddenly realized her preparations were in vain. Someone had already done the job for her.
Fate looked away and fought the urge to gag. She could still remember a time, before Alicia changed, when they were as thick as thieves. "Happier times…" she said with a deep sense of loss. She gathered up her will and turned back to her twin. Her boots made a sickening sound as she stepped into the large pool of blood that gathered around the other girl's body. Alicia was wearing a teal evening dress, but most of that was now stained in red. The cause had to be the dagger currently lodged in her sister's heart.
Fate gently kneeled down and checked her twin's pulse. When her fingers touched the skin she instantly recoiled. Alicia was cold, but not in the morbid sense, she was as cold as a block of ice. Red eyes widened in realization, her sister's blood was frozen in the veins.
Her eyes quickly shot to the dagger. The thing had looked familiar, and she finally knew why. "Forgive me, Alicia." She slid her right saber back into its sheath, and with the same hand, she reached over and grabbed the blade. Closing her eyes, she yanked it free. Cold air suddenly surrounded her and Fate opened her eyes; a single edged ice blade was currently clenched in her hand.
"Keep it as a…howa you say, a souvenir?"
Fate stood and whipped around in alarm. Standing in the doorway was a blue-skinned man, or woman now that she got a good look at the person without a cloak covering the face. She let out a gasp, the strange woman had ears similar to an Elva. It probably explained why magic seemed to pour off the being. "Who are you!?"
The blue-skinned Elva smiled. "A relic."
Fate dropped the ice dagger and drew her right sword again; she was going to get answers out of the strange woman, one way or another. "Answer me." Now that her home was burning, the empress incapacitated, and her sister dead, she couldn't help but feel that this creature had something to do with all of it. "I'll only tell you this once. If you value your life…" She stopped and narrowed her eyes. She could see that the blue-skinned Elva was already injured. Her right shoulder was deformed badly and there was blood pouring from the wound onto the floor. It was a light color blood that matched the shade on her sister's dress and the surrounding floor. "You…"
"Mey?" The woman cocked her head, giving her a quizzical look.
Fate put two and two together. The dead Graycloaks, the blood covering her sister, and the ice dagger; it all pointed to one thing. "It was you, wasn't it?" She limped forward, rage building inside her. "You were the one that killed Alicia."
"I not wanta toe." The blue-skinned Elva motioned to the Graycloaks and smiled. "Buta playtime isa over."
Ignoring the pain in her leg, Fate leapt over the desk and charged the woman. Her right arm arched when she came into range, but her blade only hit air. The Elva had already disappeared, a smile on its face was the last thing she saw before there was nothing but an empty hallway.
"Damn it!" Sighing, she fell to her knees.
"Ehh."
Fate's leg protested, but she slowly stood again. "Who's there?" It was that sound again coming from the other side of the desk. Walking back over, she looked around. For a fleeting second she thought maybe her sister was still alive, but the girl still lay there with her red eyes staring at nothingness.
"Over…here."
Fate looked to the bottom of the gold chair. Leaning against it was a Graycloak that was still alive, albeit barely. His breaths were raspy and his eyes were unfocused. In anger, she pressed a blade under the man's throat. "Why have you come here, Ecclesian?"
"We…were…too…late." The Elva didn't seem to take notice of her blade. "Kai…stronger than…we thought."
"Kai?"
"Ancient…all dead…so we…thought." The man's head leaned back and his blue eyes met Fate. "Sorry, My Queen…we failed you."
Sympathy, even for her enemy, filled her chest. "Try to make sense. Why did you attack us, why even attack Belka?" She pulled back her sword and kneeled down to the man.
The man shook his head. "Not Belka…never…no. Here…to…protect the…Queen."
He began to drift off slowly and she shook him gently. "Answer me, why are you here?"
"Kai," groaned the man. "Stop…the…we were too late. She…killed you, My Queen. Unleashed…your soul…the sun…burns."
"The fire was the blue-skinned woman's fault?"
"No…soul."
He wasn't making any sense to her. Maybe Jail could decipher it, but she lacked too much knowledge in the arcane to figure it out herself. "How do I stop it?" Helping her people took priority. From the view through the large windows, she saw that the inferno still raged outside. "Tell me how to stop the fires," Fate demanded. She didn't receive an answer. "Please tell me. You're a magi, right?"
"…"
"People's lives are at stake!"
The Graycloak finally nodded, an act that took considerable effort. "Silence…the sun."
"How?"
The Elva slowly raised a hand and pointed to the body of her sister. "Remove…"
"What?" She shook him as he began to nod off. "Remove what?"
The Graycloak used the last of his energy to point to his own chest. That was the last thing he did before his consciousness was claimed by oblivion.
Fate swallowed hard and stood. "By the Light!" May god forgive her for what she was about to do.
00
That's when it all started. The Belkan capital was saved from complete destruction that night, but their nation had embarked on a three year campaign to destroy the ones they thought were responsible. Fate couldn't say for sure that the Ecclesians didn't start it, but she was running out of time to find out for sure. At this rate the Ecclesians wouldn't last till winter, and if her people occupied their lands, there wouldn't be any magi left to answer her other questions.
Fate reached into the case and removed the ice dagger. It chilled her hand just to hold the thing, but she focused her aura on lowering its ambiance. When she was satisfied that it was cooled, or warmed enough, she placed it inside a specially made sheath attached to the small of her back.
00
A nineteen year old Fate looked down at her mother. "She seems so peaceful." It was hard to believe this was the same woman who made growing up a living hell. The violet-haired noble was laid out in a large bed resting by a towering set of windows, as if the first sight Precia would see upon waking up was her beloved Al-Hazard. It wasn't a sight in vain, the city had done a remarkable job of rebuilding to its former glory in the short three years the empress had been encased in her unnatural sleep. "Mother." She reached over and gently stroked the sleeping woman's long hair. She had meant what she said to Alicia all those years ago, blood was blood. It didn't matter what kind of sins this woman committed in the past, Precia Testarossa had given life to her. Even now she was determined to do right by her.
"I'm surprised to see you back in the capital, Princess. Those filthy creatures in Cy-Darrow don't kill themselves you know."
It was inevitable that he'd eventually find her. "Our feud was supposed to be against the Ecclesians." Fate let out a sigh. "You've taken this too far, Jail." She turned and saw the Steward of Belka standing there in all his glory. The man was dressed for the part; long trench coat, military uniform, medals the noble probably created just for himself. Jail Scaglietti had savored every bit of power he controlled during his three year reign—which was the first time in history a man had controlled the Empire.
"You're mistaken, Your Highness. Belka is at war with all the unclean, and what better place to start than our own backyard." The steward walked over and stood beside her. "Your assignment was prestigious, yet safe. Do you honestly think I could send the future empress to the frontlines? What if you were killed?"
She seriously doubted the man would shed a single tear. If she died, Jail would become the first official male ruler of Belka since its founding three thousand years ago. "If I was out of the way this war would continue indefinitely." Jail was well aware of her stance on ending this conflict as soon as possible. In a years time she would be crowned empress should her mother not reclaim the throne, and that, without a doubt, didn't sit well with her cousin once removed. Jail fanatically opposed any resolution that stopped close of complete annihilation of all non-humans. It wasn't just a boastful whim of hatred on his part, the atrocities already committed by her people were proof positive that he was dead serious.
"Mid-Childa is ripe for the taking. With all due respect, the war is almost concluded. After it falls, all the Federation kingdoms will fold like a house of cards."
"I hear reports that we've been slowed."
"Only because we needed to readjust our tactics a bit."
Fate grimaced, he was talking about their initial vanguard. The steward purposely used the entire contingent of Wolkenritter to be the tip of the spear; no rest, no reinforcement, just a never ending push until they were all eventually destroyed. "Your plan to annihilate the non-humans don't stop with our enemies does it?" Thinking about how he abused their loyalist of citizens made her sick. Her former master was among those redeployed on the vanguard, though Signum was currently leading an all human Wing. "Just because they are Elva…"
"Makes them expendable," Jail interrupted. "The Wolkenritter accept this, and so do I." The steward met her with a stare. "The only person who seems to have a problem with that is you."
"Because it isn't right."
"No no." Jail wagged a finger at her. "To quote your mother, building a better future isn't about doing what's right, it's about doing what's necessary."
Needless to say she couldn't have disagreed more. "I'll keep that in mind." Fate leaned over and took her mother's hand. Although the woman was peacefully sleeping, she was beginning to waste away with time. It was a medical feat just keeping Mother alive. "Tell me, has there been any changes?"
Jail shrugged. "No one seems to know what's wrong with her, but just between you and me…" The steward smiled. "I'm betting it had something to do with your sister's untimely death."
She knew the man had known more about it than just that, but try as she might, Fate could never get him to divulge that information. "I wouldn't doubt it." She had told him about everything that happened that night; the blue-skinned Elva, the death of the princess, and even the part about the Ecclesian survivor. The newly appointed steward had chosen to ignore everything; instead he went ahead with war preparations. Jail was no fool, he had purposely spun everything to make it look like an enemy assassination plot. He even made her out to be the hero that saved the city. That was plain laughable. If the people really knew what she'd done to stop the fires, they might have thought otherwise.
Jail snickered at something he was thinking about. "You know it's funny that the only people who could save the empress are the same people we're trying to destroy."
Her brow twitched in anger. "Can we not call a truce and ask them for aid in helping Mother?"
The steward shrugged. "And why would I want to do something like that?"
"Why else?" She didn't think it was necessary to answer that, but she did anyway, "To save our empress and put a stop to this war."
Red eyes turned to meet hers. "And why would I want to do something like that?"
00
Fate opened the flap to the tent and stepped outside. "Teana."
The redhead immediately came to her side. "Master?"
"I take it Signum is back safely."
"Aye, Master. Captain Opel already went on ahead to check on the prisoner."
Fate had wanted to meet with her former master before she met with the Ecclesian. She was hoping to inform Signum about her plans to see where the other woman stood on it. "I see. Has Bardiche been fed yet?"
Teana nodded. "I just came from the pens. As always, he eats like a pig. That Imperial already consumed six times the rations Mirage eats!"
She swiftly turned and made her way towards the pen area. "Mirage is still growing. Someday he'll eat enough to keep up with the older ones."
"Still…"
She wanted to smirk, yet the expression didn't want to surface on her face. Fate doubted she had truly smiled since her Mama died. "I'll admit that Bardiche likes to eat more out of enjoyment than necessity."
They both entered the pen area and came face-to-face with the three immense forms. One was the gargantuan Bardiche. At the moment the Imperial was attempting to get some rest, but it was made nearly impossible by the snapping of the other two beasts. It was like a draconian version of a sparring session. The adult one was none other than Laevatein, an ancient dragon who still acted like a hatchling. The younger one was a rare sight among Belkan dragoons, due to the fact that bronze colored dragons tended to be smaller and possessed weaker stamina than the other Suns—knights tended to select from the more hearty Golds.
"Can you calm down for a single second!" Teana took off towards the pen. One moment she was jogging, the next minute she was rolling on the floor. Mirage's tail had suddenly landed in her path. "Mirage!"
The Bronze froze when he heard his master call out, at the same time Laevatein guiltily turned away and rested his head on the ground.
"You almost killed me you stupid lizard!"
Turning his head slightly, Mirage looked down at the scowling redhead, an apologetic whine erupting from his maw.
"Don't give me that." Teana stood, walked over, and kicked the Bronze in the leg. "I can't believe I chose such a hyperactive troublemaker for my pact."
Fate shook her head and patted Bardiche on the muzzle. "Be nice, Teana. He's still only three." Most dragons needed a good five years to fully mature. For the most part they stopped growing, but it was said they started growing again once they reached two thousand years of age.
Bardiche opened his golden eyes briefly before closing them again.
"Humph." The redhead glared at Mirage until the Bronze laid its head on the ground to get some sleep. "I wonder if Bardiche was as bad when he was younger."
"Worst," Fate said.
A plume of steam erupted from the Imperial, it was the draconian version of a grunt.
"You're kidding?" Teana looked at her in surprise.
"I wish I was." She spun and headed away from the pen area; they had delayed long enough. "You can stay here, Teana." Even if the captured officer was useless, she was already pass the point of no return. No sense dragging her apprentice down with her.
Teana followed regardless. "No."
"What if I made it an order?"
"I'd still say no." The redhead caught up and walked by her side. "I know what you're planning to do, Master."
"Then you should be as far away from me as possible."
"But you're my master. Where you go I go."
Teana had to choose now of all times to be stubborn. "Think of your father. You may have a reckless sense of loyalty, but your actions reflect on him."
The redhead appeared unsettled by that, but she kept following anyway. "That may be true, and I'm sorry for any trouble that I might cause him, but I'm with you in this." Teana looked away sadly. "You're not the only one who wants to put a stop to this war."
She came to halt, stopping her apprentice in the process. "You may regret this later if you walk any further, I'm warning you one last time."
"I have given you my complete faith. Believe me when I tell you that isn't something frivolous." Teana brought a fist to her chest. "All I'm asking is that you give me the same and never doubt my resolve again."
Her apprentice had changed from a spoiled noble to a fine knight in three short years. "I will, Teana." She brought a hand to her own chest and returned the gesture. "I will."
00000000
"Halt." The man's eyes widened the moment he recognized her. "Your Highness!"
Fate held out a hand to stop the eventual groveling. "Please, just let me inside."
The guard quickly saluted. He and four other soldiers stepped aside to let her and Teana through.
When she finally entered the medical ward she had to hold back a shiver. Fate would take this secret to the grave, but she had a phobia against hospitals. When she was a child her mother had frequently sent her to one after special punishments. If that wasn't bad enough, she spent another period of her life watching her beloved Mama slowly die in one of these places. Thankfully, this hospital was empty aside from Signum and the now awake Ecclesian officer. His pact must have been a strong one, because he made a complete recovery. He demonstrated this newfound health by standing toe-to-toe with the pink-haired knight. If the man had the power to slay a person by glaring at them, Signum would be dead by now.
Her former master broke away from the stare fest and saluted her. "Glad you could show up." She jerked a thumb at the Ecclesian. "Mister broody over here refuses to speak with me."
"I refused to speak with a drai," the enemy knight said without taking his eyes off of Signum.
Fate raised an eyebrow.
"Means traitor in Elva." Signum shrugged. "I'm sure he'll talk to you though."
"Oh will I?" The man shook his head and turned to her for the first time. He looked ready to say another biting remark but his eyes finally met hers. "You…" The Ecclesian was stunned speechless.
Teana stepped between them. "She's not a 'you'. Show the proper respect, Ecclesian. You're addressing the…"
"Teana, please." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and stood beside her. "Let me formally introduce myself." She brought a fist to her chest as a sign of respect. "I am Sky Marshal Fate of House Testarossa, Thirty-Eighth Line of Rossa, Second Daughter of Empress Testarossa of Belka."
The man visually swallowed and straitened, even her name carried weight in Ecclesia. "I am Captain Chrono of House Harlaown, Eighteenth Federation Dragoons, First Son of Admiral Harlaown. "
Fate motioned to her apprentice.
At first Teana only glared at the man, but she finally relented under her urging. "Major Teana of House Lanster, Lady Testarossa's Apprentice, First Daughter of Praetor Lanster of the Belkan Imperial Senate."
She finally motioned to her former master.
Signum only cocked an eyebrow. "He doesn't want to hear it."
Fate was undeterred. For any formal greeting a person had to introduce their rank, name, house, position, and family's highest status, in that order. I refuse to continue unless all ranking officers are recognized, animosity aside, this is my request."
Chrono nodded in acceptance. "Very well." He looked over at the pink-haired knight expectantly.
Sighing, Signum bowed. "Captain Signum of House Opel, Forty-Ninth Imperial Dragoons, First Daughter to Bishop Opel of the Holy Church."
"Your father is a Bishop?"
"Aye."
The Ecclesian was ready to retort, but his eyes widened in surprise. "Wait!" He turned to Teana. "And did you say Praetor Lanster?"
The redhead crossed her arms and glared at the man even harder. "Aye."
Finally Chrono's eyes rested on Fate. "And…you." Sighing, the man sat in a chair resting near a table by the medical cot. "Never in a million years did I ever think I'd meet a Rossa. What I have done to deserve such an esteemed audience?"
"I want to know that myself," Signum said with a glance in her direction.
"I needed to find an Ecclesian representative." Fate was, as always, honest. "And you happen to be in the wrong place at the right time." Reaching behind her back, she drew the ice bladed dagger.
