Seliph's small company had taken to making use of an abandoned shop in Tirnanog. It wasn't outstanding, but they'd needed a space separate from the abbey where they could train and talk strategy. It happened to fit the bill, which was as much as they could ask for.
Shanan stretched lazily, reaching his arms back above his chair. "If you need anything else before I head to Phinora, now's your chance."
Ulster peered at his cousin briefly, then returned to his reading.
He heard Larcei pause in her practice, before approaching the Isaachian prince. "Cousin, do you mind telling me a bit more about Ayra?"
The swordsman rarely laughed, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Again, Larcei? What else is there to tell?"
She scowled at him. "Fine, then. Off with you to Phinora. Just don't get yourself killed, Shanan. Isaach needs you, remember?"
His face grew reminiscent and his gaze far-off. "She was a lot like you, Larcei. A fierce warrior, quite beautiful, too. Sometimes I think she wished she'd been born a man." He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. "Yes, I remember... she and Prince Jamka met in Genoa. He once called her a fair warrior. I thought she was going to kill him right there. Luckily, she didn't. But really, she didn't know how to be a woman. I suppose no one ever taught her. Besides, she spent so much time providing for me in father's place."
"She eventually figured it out, though. Otherwise Ulster and I wouldn't be here," Larcei pointed out.
"Right," Shanan agreed. "She and Jamka had liked each other for a while. They both had to come to terms with it, though. To be honest, it was somewhat difficult to watch at times. But like you said, they managed to figure it out."
Larcei nodded quietly, absorbing her cousin's words.
"She and Jamka really were similar," he mused quietly. "Families taken by the war, and neither of them really wanted to fight. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we'd come back to Isaach as a family. If the Belhalla Massacre had never happened."
His cousin sighed painfully. "Sorry, Shanan. It was selfish of me to ask again..."
The prince shook his head. "Don't worry about it, cousin. Compared to what we've been through since then, those were halcyon days. And dwelling on the past doesn't accomplish much, but without what happened I might not be here with all of you."
Ulster, who had been rereading the same sentence for a while, finally closed his book. Although he wouldn't admit it, he cared as much for Shanan's stories of Ayra as Larcei did. He definitely had his doubts about whether he and Larcei would ever find their parents, yet he couldn't help but sympathize with them. While Ayra and Jamka hadn't grown up as orphans, they had lived in the same bitterly fractured world. Seliph always spoke about how one day they'd be able to fix Jugdral, and begin to make it whole again. Honestly, Ulster didn't know what to make of it. That was a very big if, after all. The liberation of an entire continent from the vast Grannvalian empire—it was the stuff of legends.
"Ulster," Shanan said, peering at his cousin. "You care to spar a bit before I head out?"
He shook his head in response. "No, I'm good. You sure you'll be fine traveling by yourself, though? I could go with you."
The swordsman frowned. "I'll be fine, believe me. One person won't attract attention, especially if I stay out of trouble. You might be surprised at how well I can avoid suspicion."
Ulster shrugged helplessly. "Just make sure to come back, Shanan. We need you. Isaach, too."
"Of course," Shanan said, taking to his feet. He glanced between his two cousins. "Make sure to keep Prince Seliph out of danger for me, alright? At least until I get back." After gathering up his supplies, he left.
"You really think he'll be okay?" Larcei asked, turning to her brother.
He bit his lip, thinking for a brief moment. "Shanan's been around the block a few times more than we have. Really, I think he's right. Once he's back to us with Balmung in hand, we'll be able to finally liberate Isaach. I don't know what other option we have."
Larcei's face turned sour at his words. "I just feel stupid sitting here doing nothing. There must be something else we can help with."
Ulster shook his head. "If lolling around and training all day in Tirnanog keeps Seliph safe, then I guess that's what we do."
"Dammit," his sister spat bitterly. "I'm going for a walk," she said, leaving.
The lone myrmidon reopened his book and continued where he'd left off.
The past few weeks had been a whirlwind. The empire had located the rebel army, but against all odds Seliph and his crew had managed to liberate Isaach and bring down Dannan. Their next move was to march on Alster, backing up Lenster's Prince Leif. First, however, they had a few critical days to rest and regather themselves.
Ulster was relaxing in one of Rivough castle's studies, enjoying the serenity in the wake of the their taxing campaign. A knocking from the doorway caused the myrmidon to look up from his book. It was Johan, one of Dannan's sons.
"Do you have a minute?" the axe knight asked hopefully.
The swordsman closed his book and put it aside. "Sure. Is there something wrong?"
Johan crossed the room, seating himself in a chair facing the other warrior. "Ulster, I'd like permission to marry your sister."
Ulster blinked owlishly at that, unsure whether the knight was joking. "You realize if she knew you asked me that, she'd kill us both."
The knight's brow furrowed in dismay. "But of course. If your father was still alive, I would be asking him."
Ulster quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, she'd kill you for that, too."
Johan heaved an awkward sigh. "Well, what else am I supposed to do?"
"That's easy," the myrmidon explained. "She's her own woman. Talk to her about it."
He frowned in response. "Every time I put word to my feelings, she responds with naught but scorn."
"Uh..." Ulster didn't know where to begin. "She's not really the lovey-dovey type. Maybe try telling her how you feel without the flowery language."
One of Shanan's stories bubbled to the surface of Ulster's memory. House Dozel's Lex had at one point courted Ayra, though nothing had come of it.
"Maybe offer her a gift?" Ulster suggested helpfully.
The axe knight's face brightened immediately. "Ah, but what gift can properly show her the depths of my adoration? Would that I could give her the very stars in the sky, or the virgin snow from Isaach's mountains."
Ulster was beginning to feel awkward with his guest, but managed to voice his thoughts. "What you said earlier, Johan?"
"Yes?"
"I obviously wouldn't be giving you any advice if I didn't think you weren't," the myrmidon paused briefly, searching for the right word, "an okay guy. But if we make it through all this... please, make up for what House Dozel has done."
Johan's face grew stern. "Of course, dear brother. Every night, I'm grieved by the atrocities committed by my own kin—atrocities committed against the very woman I love, upon her friends. I cannot rest until they've been made right."
The myrmidon felt his eyes widen reflexively. "Johan, we're not brothers yet, okay? And I'm pretty sure Larcei would have gutted you for that whole spiel, too."
"Would that a suppliant were not reviled for merely lending shape to his heart's address," the knight grieved. "It scathes me so, my friend, to be misunderstood by Larcei, the radiant star of my heart's delight."
Ulster tried not to make a grotesque face. "You know, I've heard a bit about your uncle from Prince Shanan," he said, changing the subject.
"Oh?"
The myrmidon nodded. "I imagine you're a lot like him. Except for the speech thing. But I remember Shanan saying he was a bit of a romantic in his time."
Johan's face grew dour. "Ah, but my uncle Lex perished alone. Would that I succeed where he failed, should the fates allow."
Ulster shrugged helplessly. "Anyway, it was good talking to you, Johan. Was there anything else you needed?"
The axe knight beamed in response. "Not a single thing, my friend. You truly have been an inspiration to me. With renewed vigor shall I seek the lovely Larcei's affections, becoming a knight who may one day truly deserve her."
"Well," the myrmidon managed, "good luck with that."
Taking to his feet, the axe knight offered a graceful bow before excusing himself.
Ulster wasn't sure what Seliph's policy on infighting was, but they might be finding out soon. The warrior took a weary breath and returned to his book.