Chapter Uploaded: 06-07-23.
CHAPTER XXVI
Oearaiþ
(Mournful Fate)
XXIII • CMI Bæþdæg of Ærra Geola. Aþ Niht
(The 23rd Day Preceding Yuletide, Bath Day, 901)
Oath Night
After finding a bilingual rider to send word to Florence, Natsuki had finally found free time. This however, does not mean she is wasting it, for she is busy within the smithy.
Testing the hammer against the cold anvil, she watches with interest as the tool bounces freely. She can vaguely remember being told that cold metal behaves like this. Meanwhile, when heated… She turns around towards the forge: Within the smouldering embers is a glowing shaft of iron.
Lying the hammer against the anvil, she reaches for a set of tongs. These are propped against the forge's brickwork for easy accessibility.
It has taken weeks for her to figure out what she should make Viola. Speaking with Rila yesterday must have triggered something. After all, hours later she would be spending the Night of the Ancestors with Viola. The jewellery those effigies donned had linked with the stargazing. Before Natsuki knew it, her legs had unconsciously brought her to the blacksmith.
But… Natsuki grumbles under her breath as she attentively latches the iron into the tongs. Bringing the blazing shaft to the anvil, she keeps hold of the tongs within her left hand. Indeed, her right hand is weakened, so she feels safer this way keeping the iron secure.
So through sheer will and determination, Natsuki pieces together everything she has learned thus far.
She is attempting to make a bracelet adorned with a crescent moon. For sanity's sake, Natsuki's going to make a larger scale version first. Though… How does she start in the first place?
Beside her on the table is a hefty, dog-eared book. It is essentially a holy writ for blacksmiths. 'I should ask for this to be copied…' She eyes a particular method she is trying to copy: This practice involves hammering metal against the anvil's horn to create a curve.
Natsuki senses this is the first stage in forming a crescent. Though, whatever comes after this she has no idea: Hence, her reasoning in creating a larger piece first. If smaller, it would in theory be painstaking. Besides, if this fails, can it be repurposed for something else?
After what feels like aeons, Natsuki pounds the heated iron until it looks like a horseshoe. Lifting the metal skywards, she studies it and releases a defeated breath. What on Earl is she doing?
Maybe… she needs to keep hitting it? Propping the chilled end against the anvil, she hesitantly hammers against the white-hot side. Its tip starts freely bending until eventually, it forms into a concave. Raising her work again, Natsuki examines it with mild confidence.
It still needs more work.
Determination renewed, the Wælcyrge sets forth once more. Minutes fly by till finally her desired shape is styled. It now looks like a graceful letter C—it is exactly like she imagined! Releasing a tense breath of relief, Natsuki carefully returns it to the anvil.
Now, it is an unpredictable stage. She had thought that perhaps she could create small clips either end for a strap. However, searching throughout this book, the more apparent it becomes, it is an intricate task.
'Maybe I can make an indent around each end then pin rings to them…?' She muses, stretching towards the book to read a section. Here it says that a strip must be cold-hammered before it is heated and manipulated. During the latter phase, it can then be twisted around something cylindrical… That's all well and fine, but couldn't this book have pictures at least?!
The Wælcyrge can only shake her head, supposing she has no choice.
More time is spent; so much so Natsuki has just realised it is nightfall.
Dipping the intricate—now complete—piece into the bucket beside her, sizzling bubbles swarm to the water's surface. Tiredly she watches, keeping the tongs submerged for the time being.
She is exhausted and her arm throbs.
Propping the tongs within the bucket, she steps away to inspect her left limb. She brushes her fingertips along the now conspicuous scar. Well, she swallows, pushing back the annoying itching within her throat. Natsuki just needs to fasten the leather strips then it is finished.
For now, she takes a much needed break, and heads for the crown-glass window. Opening it, she leans against the sill to peer towards the Wall. Tonight Viola is heading the battlements, though she is unsure whether she can spot her. Everyone is wearing armour which conceals their identities well indeed.
To Saint Monica's Street she views, following the descent from the Cathedral towards the lower section. Along the cobblestone footway, residences have dumped barrels—of what contents, Natsuki has not a clue. Scrunching her face with disgust, she thinks back to the discussion she had with Viola earlier.
'Wind is one of our oldest establishments. As such, there are areas under disrepair—residential housing is one of those things. Peasants are expected to live in close quarters amongst animalstock. As you can imagine, hygiene is a heavy concern and seldom understood.'
There didn't seem to be a sewage system either. Due to this, the peasantry is located on the lower levels. Liquid flows downhill, so the stink and disease amalgamates into the slums. The same can especially be said for the Shambles, Wind's meat market. Rodents and other pests are rampant in those streets.
Apart from the technology and people, hygiene is something Natsuki desperately misses.
Comparatively, in her previous existence, her society followed chivalric practices, but that is nothing compared to this. There are so many rules set in stone that have been strictly followed for centuries.
The Otome had been… what? Just over three centuries old?
Oh, how insignificant she feels here, even if she is deemed "important". She is assumed paramount in Windbloom's hierarchy merely because she had been Viola's Ánhere. It is nonsensical to her that she has risen the ranks because of Queen Mashiro's demise.
But… If she is to survive here, she has no choice in this matter.
With nightfall as well—it is Lover's Night.
Natsuki's gaze drifts skywards into the dark horizon. Here the Moon is full in all its battered glory.
'Lover's Night…'
A baffling mixture of emotions rouse within Natsuki with a steadfast anxiety.
Viola hadn't mentioned it to her; rather, it had been the Knight-Commander. She had so joyfully declared it, as if expecting something would happen between Natsuki and the Arcewælcyrge. She… does Natsuki want anything to happen?
Actually… to the bucket Natsuki strides and grasps the tongs steadily. Lifting the crescent from the water, she gingerly taps it with the back of her fingers. It is cool to the touch.
All she needs to do now is attach the leather strips. She could easily give this to Viola soon, but does she truly want to? 'Are we considered lovers…? The sun has set so it's the day already.' Releasing an exhausted breath, Natsuki shook her head.
Why is she always stuck in her head like this?
Unlatching the crescent from the tongs, Natsuki set the tool horizontally upon the bucket's rim. Bringing the incomplete bracelet to her own wrist, she experiments with its positioning. 'Her wrists are a similar size to mine, so…' She muses, placing it down atop the anvil. '...I should try making the strips adjustable, just in case.'
Henceforth, the Wælcyrge makes the finishing touches to the bracelet, albeit tired.
ᚦᚢ ᛋᛚᛇᛈ ᛠᛚᛚᛖ ᛒᛁᚾᚩᛘ
You are utterly deprived of sleep.
XXIV • CMI Sunnandæg of Ærra Geola. Lufiendas Niht
(The 24th Day Preceding Yuletide, Sun's Day, 901)
Lover's Night
"Natsuki, are you awake?"
Just a few minutes ago, Viola's post on the Wall had ended.
Heading inside their shared quarters silently, the floorboards creak softly beneath Viola's armoured boot. Helmless, she keeps her armet looped within her arm as she peers across the dark room.
It is indeed the case that Natsuki's not awake, for she sees her within the bed.
Approaching the table, she sets down her helmet and starts removing her armour.
It has been a long night.
The Slaves have become but a trickle, but their arrival is always unpredictable. Sometimes it is a mere straggler, whilst at other times, it is an assemblage. It is though unprecedented for how many bodies are within the Catacombs. Wind has never conducted an official listing. Due to this, the Wall itself has been making note.
It is unfortunate that they are having to burn the corpses because of disease. A few of these undead have been recognised as famous historical figures. What is worse, is that the Corpse Road is still brimming to breaking point.
It will only be a matter of time until they can no longer cope.
Removing a vambrace, Viola stares listlessly in the dimness as she places it onto the table.
'What will I order when that time comes?' She reflects, gaze pulling from the table to the bed as she hears movement. Within it, she sees Natsuki roll onto her other side—her back now facing Viola. 'I am spending less time with Natsuki, as well.'
Does she regret it? She… Viola is anxious to ask Natsuki.
Once ready and washed, the Arcewælcyrge crawls into bed behind Natsuki. For a while her night-adjusted eyes sweep along Natsuki's back, brooding.
Actually, it is rather strange, isn't it? They share a bed and have exchanged sparked moments together that she would deem lustful. But… nothing really happens, no? 'It is peculiar. In my past life I was deeply attracted to various women.'
She can now keenly remember when she had first met Natsuki and Mai in Garderobe. She had felt initial captivation for both underclasswomen. It now makes sense that she had married Mai after Natsuki had died.
Mulling over these fragmented memories, Viola's brow tautens with strain. It isn't until Natsuki again furls around that this halts Viola's trailing mind.
The former Ánhere is inches from her own face.
Sucking in a breath, Viola's heart skips a harsh beat and her eyes widen.
She's—really, Natsuki is so unfair.
Prising her arms around her, Viola brings Natsuki into an embrace. Huddling under the woman's jaw, this causes Natsuki to mumble incoherently.
"Shizuru…" Natsuki rumbled after another moment, the silence heavy within the room. "What are you doing?"
"Is it not obvious?" Easing back, Viola continued: "I could not help myself, Natsuki. You were so close when you rolled over."
"Hmf…" Natsuki weakly responded. She is so tired! Pressing her hand to Viola's breastbone, she pushes her back slowly. Natsuki's other palm then reaches for her face, smearing it down her face to wane her fatigue. "When did you get back?"
"Only sometime ago." The Arcewælcyrge captures the hand against her breastbone, entangling their fingers together. "You look more exhausted than I, Natsuki. What were you doing?"
"Hm… practising blacksmithing." Natsuki keeps it vague and surprisingly Viola does not prod for more clarity. Instead, they remain quiet within each other's company.
Natsuki, who inches forward again, rests her chin against Viola's head, musing: 'Right… It's Lover's Night. Does she know?' Her gaze shifts towards the crown-glass window which reflects triangular light off its angled surface. Is the Moon that bright tonight, or is it the braziers from the Wall?
Now that she thinks further about tonight, Natsuki's tempted to give Viola the bracelet now. Should she?
"Natsuki?" Viola asks in confusion as her fellow Wælcyrge props herself upwards to lean over her. She holds her breath upon Natsuki's scent invading her nostrils. Bark…? Rosemary…? Clearly Natsuki has only recently bathed.
"I have something for you." The younger woman says sheepishly as she opens the nightstand's drawer. "But I… huh…" Natsuki's linen shirt brushes against Viola's face as she pauses. "I'm embarrassed." She chuckles.
'Oh good Gods'.' Viola nearly crumbles beneath her former Ánhere. Her scent, presence—everything! "W-what is it?" Viola pushes herself up from the mattress, looking to the nightstand in attempts to distract herself. 'Ignore it. You are stronger than that.'
"It's huh… It's Lover's Night, so…" Scarlet moves zenith to greet viridian within the darkness. "I huh… I… I figured I'd—" Before she can take the handcrafted bracelet from the drawer, Viola interrupts her. "Ah?" Natsuki is quickly drawn on top of the Arcewælcyrge; Viola's arms looping around her back.
"Natsuki, you are adorable. I have something for you as well, but it is stored away…"
Upon those words and Viola's action, Natsuki thumbles with her words. "That's—ah, well… huh." Shyly she peers away from the woman beneath her. 'She got something for me?' Natsuki can scarcely believe her ears! She had started assuming that Viola is somehow unaware of what today is. "I'm not cute." She mumbles, throwing Viola a nervous look.
"Oh, but you are? Natsuki, you are so jumpy suddenly!"
"O-Of course I am!" Natsuki retorts. "I made you that thing myself!"
The Arcewælcyrge pauses, swiftly adding one and two together before she smiles. "Did you smith something for me?"
"Huh, mh… maybe."
Oh, this woman. Viola shakes her head fondly at Natsuki. She does not deserve her, does she? "But come; let us sleep before dawn fast approaches us?" As she lures Natsuki closer, her heart flutters as Natsuki stalls, disallowing their bodies to press together. "Natsuki?"
"I—ah… good night, Shizuru."
What might have been a confession, has been swiftly shoved aside at the last moment.
Now with Natsuki's body covering hers, Viola stares over Natsuki's shoulder to the rafters above. It has happened again, hasn't it? Their hesitation and fear to make the plunge together has killed the flame before it even sparked. Squeezing her eyes shut, Viola vainly tries to ignore the growing frustration growing within herself.
It is infuriating, but she cannot blame Natsuki, for she has the same issue.
Minutes cross them tensely till Natsuki's hot breath hits Viola's throat.
"I'm sorry…" Natsuki rises so she's hovering over Viola. "I used to be like this before. I'd feel the vaguest things then the moment something would start, I'd just…"
Viola listens to her former Ánhere, mulling over her words quietly.
"...Close up. Even when I was making that thing for you earlier, I was questioning myself whether I should reveal it tonight. I don't know whether I'm coming or going: Half the time I think something's wrong with me—"
Natsuki covers Viola's mouth before she can intervene. "—Shizuru, let me finish… People just… disinterest me, you know? But you? Maybe Mai?"
Natsuki shakes her head unsurely. "Even with you, I found—find—it hard to identify my feelings. It's… it's like I have boxes with me. Inside them are my feelings. Sometimes they will open but I can't see what's inside them. So… so I'm aware they're there, but I don't know what they are."
Yet here they are, sharing a brittle and sobering connection. It is one of such numerous consequences and fateful proceedings. Perhaps… Natsuki should… what?
That sounds familiar indeed. Viola nods mutely, thoughts churning around inside her psyche. For herself, she does not experience empathy nor jealousy whatsoever. If by chance someone is injured—even Natsuki—she is unable to process it. She feels… nothing. All Viola can do is help to make the wounding stop.
Coincidentally this includes the apparent rage one experiences from jealousy.
Why would it anger her that someone has something she does not? Why can she not share what that thing is with that person?
Or is it that she does? Is possessive nature considered jealousy?
Viola has the desire to make Natsuki hers; to have her as solely her own.
But if Natsuki chooses another, then…
What?
"Shizuru?"
"I was attracted to various people—all women." Viola confesses. "Here it has been different. I was not attracted to Tomoe at all." The guilt still lances Viola's heart. Tomoe did not deserve any of this to happen to her.
It is still a mystery why Tomoe even appeared in the Black Valley.
Whilst meanwhile, Anh and Natsuki…? "I loved Anh greatly." Reaching beneath the blanket, Viola pulled some cyan fabric from her pocket, offering it to Natsuki. "Through this she has always been with me." Viola forces a smile up at Natsuki who carefully takes it.
So at last Viola admits it; she had loved Anh. Natsuki examines the thick cloth, noticing blemishes—even within the darkness—is this blood? Oh, Gods', Viola had taken this from Anh's corpse, hadn't she?
"She said I would understand what she felt once I became the Arcewælcyrge." Viola imparts, touching along the fabric listlessly. "That multiple things would just slot into place and start making sense."
"Was… was she right?" Natsuki apprehensively returns the cyan fabric to Viola.
"She was."
Stillness encompasses them.
As unfathomable as it may seem to Natsuki, this causes her to spill more confessions. Hands flanking Viola's shoulders, they twist into the blanket as Natsuki's head lulls downwards. Hair now concealing her face, she struggles with her next sentence. "I've… huh… I want to know more about Lover's Night."
An erratic thrashing of Natsuki's heart alerts her to the fact Viola isn't moving. Has she not heard her—
"Natsuki, do you realise what you are asking of me? Are you fully aware of what a lover is—"
"—O-of course I do!" Natsuki retorts, her head shooting up to stare at her aghast. A-a lover is—"
Oh, she's precious. Viola gazes at her former Ánhere stumbling with her words adoringly. Still… Viola squeezes her eyes shut momentarily, pushing the temptation aside as best she can. "Lover's Night is a translation from the Old Tongue: Lufiendas Niht. The section"fiendas" in our Modern Tongue, means "friends". In recent history, this ceremony now involves drinking. That is because another noun for "fīendas" is "winas", or, for its singular noun, "wine".
A multitude of expressions cross Natsuki's face as she absorbs this information. However, the next paragraph makes her truly shy indeed.
"The ceremony celebrates the innocence of friendship to the aftermath of lovers' temptation. As such, many people are born within Hāligmōnaþ and Winterfylleth." The Arcewælcyrge pauses, a speck unsure whether to continue or not. Seeing Natsuki's face though, she cannot help her impulsive nature: "There is a lot of drink, Natsuki. Far more than the Feast of Community. It is used in ways which I will not describe."
Because Viola will not unveil those happenings, Natsuki's mind runs wild with potential scenarios. So extreme, that she launches herself away from Viola in humiliation. Nearly falling from the bed backwards, the Arcewælcyrge grapples her wrist so she is partially suspended.
"Natsuki?" Viola asks of her, lips twitching in amusement. She is trying not to, but she's on the verge of laughing.
"W-why does a ceremony like that even exist?!" Natsuki practically squawks, her voice cracking from rising so high. Still hanging and on her knees, her back faces towards the floor perilously. Their positioning does not aid her twanging nerves whatsoever. "I-I—s-stop looking at me like that." She accuses Viola weakly.
"Like what?" The Arcewælcyrge grins, heaving Natsuki who yelps. With her former Ánhere now sprawled within her lap, Viola languidly curls her arms around Natsuki into an embrace. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Natsuki. I would not force you into such a situation if you are uncomfortable with it."
"I-It's not that—"
But Natsuki does not conclude her response.
Silence again bites down into them, making Viola muse. 'There is clearly something on her mind. Is she…' Deciding to ask the latter segment directly, she quizzes: "Are you still thinking about the Feathered Ceremony?"
"M-mh…"
She is, Viola confirms it, her fingertips stroking along dark tresses gently. "Well, as I said before, it is an understandable mistake. You did not know. Besides—" She latches her hands to Natsuki's shoulders, guiding her back so their eyes meet. "—It is I who should be embarrassed, Natsuki. I failed to make you aware of it."
"That doesn't—" An index sealed her lips, making Natsuki stare deadpanned in reply.
"It does help, Natsuki. Remember; the Wælcyrge Cranic is an old book which speaks of both truths and lies. It is unknown whether the Feathered Ceremony was ever performed."
"Then why keep the lies?"
Viola shrugs faintly, smiling at her. "Though there may be lies, they are still possibilities."
Herewith, their nightly conversation died, exhaustion finally taking them.
Upon awakening, Natsuki finds herself spread atop the Arcewælcyrge; light glaring into her eyes from the window. Grumbling irrationally, she hoists herself upwards. Preceding the daylight comes smashing down on her like a rushing bull, making her go rigid.
Everything earlier had happened, hadn't it? She did not dream any of that, did she?
Evidently not, because here she is on top of… Natsuki realises her mistake, frantically moving away. Now seated on the mattress' edge, she leans her forearms into her thighs. What is wrong with her? She's so—'What? I'm what?' A flash of anger distorts Natsuki's reasoning, now smearing her hands against her face in frustration.
Even if she has slept wonders, it does not help to calm what they had shared earlier. The former Ánhere glares at the floorboard, a dejected sigh releasing from her moments later.
Gods' though... Natsuki adjusts herself to partially face the slumbering woman beside her.
She still cannot deny it though; Viola's beautiful—especially when asleep. Brushing the back of her digits across Viola's cheek, she mulls idly: 'Do I deserve you?'
In actuality, is it that they get comeuppance from one another? Did they earn due punishment through past miscalculations? Henceforth, does Fate demand that they are tied together for eternity? Or is it purposeful that they continue meeting in newfangled lifetimes? Mayhaps this will be their final reality?
Perhaps.
Pulling away from Viola, Natsuki discreetly stands up and heads for the window. Opening it, she peers down at the streets below.
A small battalion of soldiers are marching up Saint Monica's Street. At their front row is an unarmoured man being dragged towards the Wall.
"You can't take me back there!" He screams at them, kicking and digging into the slushed snowfallen pathway.
Leaning partially out of the window, Natsuki watches them slip inside the communal building off to the side. What on Earl had that been?
"Hm, Natsuki?" The Arcewælcyrge is starting to stir; likely disturbed from the racket outside.
"Sorry, some guy was getting dragged towards the Wall in the street."
"That must be one of the men from earlier." Viola comes to her side, looking outside as well.
Cloud-cover is already cloaking the heavens, pushing the Sun's dazzling rays out of sight. A snowy breeze hits their skin, making Natsuki step back.
"It will probably rain again." Viola advances for the door, her hand grasping the knob. "I am going to bathe, would you like to—" Natsuki quickly turns her back on her, making her laugh. "—I see! Apparently not, then. Anyhow, remember that today you shall join me on the Wall."
ᚢᚾᚳᛖᚱ ᛋᛖᚳᚷᚪᚾ ᚹᛁᛚᛚᛖ ᛋᚩᚱᚷ ᛒᛁᚦ ᚷᛖᚾᛁᚹᚪᛞ
They both shall declare that their sorrow is renewed.
"Recently we have not needed to use the Shieldwall." Viola briefs Natsuki as they climb the Wall's palisade battlements. As such, they are the first here tonight, so they are charged with lighting the braziers. "This is the mechanical crossbow I mentioned that you will be learning to use."
Directing Natsuki towards it, the miniature siege weapon is fastened to a rotating axle.
Approaching it together, Natsuki—armoured like Viola—hangs her sallet on a nearby stake. Viola does the same with her armet, and together they stoop over the wooden engine.
This thing looks like it could impale solid stone, Natsuki inspects it awe-inspiringly. Collectively, it has three limbs; each strung tightly to the latch. It must be incredibly powerful because it has a crannequin seated atop, covering the final iron catch.
Meanwhile, the bolts are monstrous…
"This—" Viola leans down to take a bolt from the iron-wrought cage beside the weapon. "—is a specially made bolt for this mechanical crossbow."
It looks closer to a ballista bolt than anything else. "Isn't that just for a ballista?" Natsuki asks.
"You are partially correct. These are indeed from ballistae, though their blueprint was adjusted so they can remain airborne."
Helene had taught her some of the basics regarding siege engines months ago, Natsuki remembers. But, with this recollection, Natsuki goes silent.
"Natsuki?"
"Ah, I was thinking about the Palace." Natsuki quickly brushes it aside as Viola demonstrates how to load the crossbow.
"If you are sure?"
The crannequin is whirled—the procedure looking tougher than expected—until the bolt locks to the final catch.
"Try aiming towards that rat over there." Viola points out the rodent scurrying within the Square's far corner. Receiving an astounded look, she remains firm: "Those are diseased rats, Natsuki. Upkeeping hygiene is a priority."
That is true, but still. Natsuki winces either way, getting a feel for how the mechanical weapon turns. "There's no sight on this thing, how do I aim it?"
The Arcewælcyrge gestures towards the thin flags flying on the Wall. Here they are visibly ripping rightwards.
Thus, Natsuki painstakingly aims the crossbow towards the rat, but angles it to the left.
"Lift it up a little. You will hit the floor feet away. Once you think you can hit the rat, pull that lever on the side. It will release the catch and send the bolt flying."
A tension prevails in the air as silence reigns.
Then, Natsuki releases the catch, sending the bolt soaring. The rodent unfortunately senses it coming and darts away. The bolt bounces from a cobblestone and then ricochets against the Cathedral wall harmlessly.
"It was a good first attempt." Viola encourages her, the former Ánhere appearing both frustrated and relieved. "Come, it is getting too dark, we must light the braziers in the Square."
After this is completed, they're greeted by the slinged Knight-Commander by the gatehouse. "Arcewælcyrge, over here!"
"What is it?" Viola drenches her torch into the water bucket outside the palisade Wall.
"It's bad; the disordered man from the last shift has persuaded others to strike."
Natsuki, who has just finished lighting the last brazier, looks to Chie conversing with Viola quietly. Is something wrong?
"Then warn them that if this Wall falls, so shall the Capital. We are Wind's last line of defence. Any soldier of mine who suffers mentally will be cared for. The same cannot be said for those attempting to dismantle my army from within."
Natsuki hears this as she approaches, catching Chie's eye who then gravely nods to Viola.
"If they continue this frivolous drivel, I shall personally have them publicly shamed in the stocks." Thus, word of their betrayal will swarm Wind within hours. "Bring me writing materials, I will pen this proof so nonsense cannot form." The Wælcyrge can only sigh at the idiocy of it all.
As Chie departs, Natsuki wanders closer. "Why would they abandon their posts like that?"
"Who knows? The intelligence and loyalty of humanity can be a fickle thing. If they are treasonous, they will not be tolerated."
Acts of treason were aplenty and were surprisingly easy to commit. Simply stealing a taxhouse's horse could land you in those waters. How these acts were dealt with—well, it isn't always execution, but it isn't uncommon either.
"How do you deal with treason in an army, anyway?" Natsuki muses aloud, dumping her torch into the bucket with Viola's.
"Depending on the severity, there are usually heavy fines. For bad behaviour amongst soldiers?" Viola gestures for Natsuki to follow her back up the palisade battlements. "Flogging is a rigorous key factor. Our situation here, however? It is either they are scared into submission or beheaded as a traitor. There are no exceptions."
Has Viola issued executions before? Natsuki watches her from the corner of her eye as they stop within the battlement's centre. The confident stance Viola portrays is far too strong for Natsuki to read through her. Therefore, Natsuki simply questions her.
"Have you executed someone before?"
They exchange a silent look before Viola casts her attention to the Cathedral. "Some months after Anh died and before Tomoe was yet to appear, there was an incident. A lesser nobleman barged into His Majesty's Court. He declared that he was the outcome of an affair between the King's father and Wælcyrge Hazakura."
Natsuki's eyebrows lift faintly as she leans against a palisade stake.
"I asked him his age. He said he was fourteen." Viola turns to her, smiling wryly. "Wælcyrge Hazakura disappeared eighteen years ago at the time and hated the late King."
"So just a stupid child? But still, that's—"
"Power hungry nobility were behind his farce, Natsuki. He tried overthrowing the Weaver House with civil war. We had only recently recovered from a plague outbreak and war with Florence."
"Do you regret having to execute a child?"
"That child was not innocent." It would seem their morality is clashing. Viola crosses her arms loosely over her breastplate. Drumming her fingertips across her elbow's couter, she muses: 'How do I make Natsuki see sense…?' Weren't the Otome of their previous life trained as young as thirteen? Decades once ago, their students parlayed in war like their soldiers of the Wall. "Did you ever order a student to war?"
Natsuki goes stone-faced, shooting a glare at the Arcewælcyrge. "Don't you dare twist this, Sh—"
"—It is exactly the same, Natsuki, and you know it."
"I tried to protect them by limiting the Otome numbers." Natsuki mutters, taking green thread from her wrist to tie her hair back. With this, she takes her sallet still hanging from the stake and sets it atop her head. Now her face is partially hidden to Viola, thus she turns from her.
Evidently Natsuki does not wish to speak with her. Viola sighs, adjusting her focus to the makeshift steps as her Hauscarlas climb up.
"Arcewælcyrge, have there been any new sightings yet?" Carla is the first to speak, equipping her cushioned, open-faced sallet.
"Surprisingly not. It has been remarkably quiet today. Have you brought the map as discussed?"
A table, weights and parchment rolls are brought up the wooden steps by the other Hauscarlas. Everything is positioned at the far end of the Wall.
"Yesterday we managed to partially seal the Catacomb entrance within the undercroft." Viola says as Yuuichi lifts a lantern so they can better see the map. "Here—" Viola points out the location on a separate parchment; this being the Cathedral blueprints. "—the stonemasons confirmed that a block can be used to seal the undead underground. However, it means we must transport this block which weighs five hundredweight."
Natsuki, who has been eavesdropping from the mechanical crossbow, peers towards them apprehensively. Are they planning to move a gigantic slab of stone into the Cathedral during a Slave invasion?
"The draught horses have already been prepared." Takeda reports, signalling towards a group of incoming soldiers.
This team is transporting armour, weapons, ammunition and other equipment within a horse-drawn waggon. The horses pulling this vehicle meanwhile, are huge. These are the draughts. In size comparison, a tall man reaches only the withers of these hulking beasts.
How are these horses going to fit through the Wall? Natsuki stares after the horses who are parked some yards outside the gatehouse. Natsuki herself is rather tall, and she has difficulty fitting through the gatehouse. Those draughts have no chance.
"I suggest we wait to tear down the palisades at sunrise. That's aways when their numbers are dying off." Carla recommends. "My team can manage the Shieldwall if something happens."
"Natsuki."
Said Wælcyrge turns her attention to Viola slowly who is stepping towards her.
"This is the reason why I wanted you to be at the Wall tonight. With any luck, we will seal shut the infestation tonight."
"Isn't there more entrances, though?"
"Yes, which is why this is only the first stage of the plan."
Natsuki eyes the woman through her sallet before returning her attention to the Square below. "Isn't there someone better who can use this crossbow?"
What is this, suddenly? Viola hesitates to reply instantly. Is she feeling conflicted because of the execution, or is this her Imposter Syndrome rising up?
"It's just… I know you're trying to include me and help me get experience, but—"
"—You will never learn underneath me if you are not allowed to explore your horizons."
"That's… that is true." Natsuki admits it, she's just going in circles again. But this woman is—what, she is what?! "Agh!" She yells, capturing the Hauscarlas' attention as well. "...I get it, I get it. I am sorry." A hand planting to her armoured shoulder has her exchange a look with Viola.
"It is fine, I understand." Viola smiles, though freezes as paranormal gargling reverates from the Cathedral. "Soldiers, ready your positions!" She lifts her voice for all to hear as the army starts scrambling up the battlements.
Whirling around, she starts issuing orders down to the Knights still on the street. "Knight-Captain, notify the siege engineers of the situation! You, there!" She points to a lone Knight. "Report to the Royal Commander in the communal buildings! I must have a scouting party!"
This is reminiscent of the Battle of Guadeloupe, isn't it?
Natsuki huddles to the mechanical crossbow as soldiers rush to and fro. But there's an issue here—she only learned how to use this thing minutes ago! Apparently she has no choice.
The first and second storey windows overviewing the Wall burst open, revealing Rila's archers. In the space of mere moments, they have nocked arrows; aim dead-set upon the Square below.
This is fine. Natsuki has the support of an entire army.
A rush of Slaves lumber from the Cathedral entrance, stumbling and thrashing against one another. Many collapse under the volley of arrows, while others are downed by crossbow bolts.
Natsuki, quickly jumping into action, loads the siege engine as she was instructed. The procedure is painstaking at best and condensed with error. Has she armed the bolt incorrectly…? She looks around her, spying a nearby Arles Guard slotting a bolt. He slams his hand against the bolt until a click registers.
Is that how it works? She warily looks at her own mechanical crossbow, noticing that it hasn't clipped within the catch. That's why! Slamming her hand much the same as the Guard, the bolt falls into place neatly.
Triumphantly she then whirls the crannequin, ignoring the ache of her limbs. Eventually, the bolt clacks upon reaching its maximum tension within the crossbow.
"Where is our supply of pitch oil?!" Viola's voice calls above the chaos.
Wait, is she planning to set fire to the entire Square? Natsuki astoundedly looks into Viola's direction, the Wælcyrge imposing more orders. Not having the time to listen further, Natsuki aims the fully loaded siege engine towards an injured Slave.
Several arrows and bolts are already gorged within its body, innards hanging from its stomach uselessly.
Ugh, that is disgusting. Natsuki grimaces at the sight, setting off the crossbow. The bolt soars across the Square, and miraculously, it meets its target.
The shambling carcass careens then gets stabbed by a multitude of arrows, sending it tumbling rearwards. Stretching over the mechanical weapon to see, Natsuki hits her fist against its side. She did it! Confidence greater, she begins the process all over again.
From Viola's station, she had seen the whole thing.
Proud indeed of her former Ánhere, she raises her hand to signal the army. "Halt!" She orders as the last Slave is cut down. The thunderous roar of conflict slowly ebbs into serenity, only the chilly breeze sounding. Here they await any more stragglers bursting from the entrance.
It does not seem likely they will be engaged by their undead adversary. Thus, Viola summons a Knight over with the waft of her fingers. "Head into the communal building and ask for pitch oil. The stockpilers seem to have misplaced it."
The Knight straightens and nods, dismissing himself swiftly.
"Hauscarle Bellini, I want you and the Arles Guard inside the Cathedral. The nave and chancel must be clear if we are to push forward."
Like the Knight, Carla too nods and issues commands to the Arles Guard within the battlements. "Arles Guard, to me!"
That was quick, Natsuki blinked, observing as multiple people entered the barriered Square.
Each Guard is swiftly handed a shield and they move into formation, creating a Shieldwall. As their numbers increase, they edge closer to the grand doors.
It is not until the entire Arles Guard is within the Square that Carla heads the Shieldwall.
From here, Natsuki watches the pig-tailed Hauscarle cautiously spy around a door, her shield raised protectively.
Costively, the Arles Guard disappears into the Cathedral and out of sight.
Within, Carla motions the soldiers closer with her hand. In the nave's centre, they coil until they form a circular formation. Nothing but shadows pierce these hallowed grounds; the moonlight from stained glass giving the illusion of movement.
The holy building is horrifically quiet.
Far too barren for her liking.
Should she check the undercroft? Carla's gaze sweeps to the chancel where the altar is. It is encapsulated by a twenty feet wall: This stonemasonry is bedazzled with arched tracery and twisting corinthian pillars. Behind that wall is Saint Monica's Shrine.
It would be a shame if the undead have corrupted it.
Through the dimness, they travel towards the undercroft. Here the steps are incredibly worn—hundreds of thousands of footfalls having reshaped them over centuries. The Arles Guard and Huascarle descend with caution; a terrifying foreboding being exhumed around them.
As they continue their journey to hell, they are abruptly stopped within their tracks.
The iron-wrought gate defending them from the Catacombs has been ripped asunder. Debris lies scattered everyplace and King Bruce II's holy fount has been destroyed. Meanwhile… creeping out of the once sealed trap door is where infeasibility reigns supreme.
Glimmering within the faint candlelight, are golden chains which jingle, twine and glide. They stretch across the walls, slithering into stonemasonry like lustrous serpents. Like moths to a flame, they ostensibly bolt towards the shocked Arles Guard.
Like colossal waves splitting a ship, the Fateful chains plunge towards the iron-wrought gate, making purchase.
Above their heads, the undercroft rumbles; rubble and dust cascading over them.
T-they need to—"Get out!" Carla yells above the incomprehensible madness.
At the Wall, the stationed army exchange distressed looks, having heard an ear-piercing collapse.
What was that? Natsuki's mind whirled with absurd possibilities.
It is then that the Arles Guard and Hauscarle stagger out of the Cathedral. Cloaked in debris, they fumble towards the gatehouse—some injured, others getting dragged.
"W-what happened?!" Viola calls over to Carla from the battlements, horrified.
"T-the Catacombs… the Catacombs are—" She stumbles to the floor, eyes bolted to the gatehouse shakily.
"Bring the surgeons." Viola commands the nearest soldier, brushing past him and everyone on the battlements. Next is Natsuki who makes room, her gaze chasing after her.
"What has happened, Carla?" Viola kneels down beside Hauscarle, hoisting her upwards. The action is difficult, for she is being deadweighted. Whatever was down there, has evidently traumatised her Hauscarle and Arles Guard.
Soon the victims are rounded up by the surgeons; medics and commissioned soldiers tripping over corpses alike. A stale and dreadful reaction pains the atmosphere, materialising a disquiet augur amongst the Wall.
Eventually, after a sombre interval, one of the Arles Guard's reveals what had happened.
"Golden chains?" One of the Knights close to Natsuki rumbled. "Are they mad?"
But… are they? Natsuki contemplates it for herself. 'Of madness chained in gold… you shall fall into impossibility.' For what has been described, matches the whispers and dreams in full. 'The soothsayer was right.' Thumbling with her mechanical crossbow, Natsuki does not know how to respond. Should she tell the army? No… 'No… that would cause chaos.'
What they have here is unprecedented like the ungoverned Keys.
What or who are the golden chains?
ᛋᛖ ᚠᚩᚱᛚᛖᛏᚩᚾ ᛖᚩᚱᛚᚪ ᚷᛖᛋᛏᚱᛖᚩᚾ ᛖᚩᚱᚦᚪᚾ ᚻᛠᛚᛞᚪᚾ
They allow the ancestral treasure to be taken by the ground.
XXVII • CMI Hidesdæg of Ærra Geola. Pæþ of Wisdom
(The 27th Day Preceding Yuletide, Worker's Day, 901)
The Path of Wisdom
"Via further investigation, it has been confirmed that the route into the Catacombs is completely sealed." Viola says, pushing the parchment discussing these findings to Chie who sits beside her. "The Arles Guard has been dismissed from service temporarily. Essentially, this means we can no longer defend Wind alone."
It is just before noon and the Palace Officials are alone within the communal meeting room.
"I suggest that we cancel Yuletide altogether." Haruka folds her arms, fingers drumming along a rerebrace. "The Lists and Wind Tournament should instead become a national event. Through that we should be able to get fresh recruits."
Leaning her jaw into her hand, Viola muses. It makes sense to do this. "Though I agree, it will take too long. We need those recruits now." If only transportation was faster, she laments. "Captain, how feasible would it be to draft the nobility?"
By the early afternoon, the meeting concludes.
"The soothsayer was right, you know." Natsuki murmurs to Viola as they depart from the building and into the snowfall. "It's similar to what the voices said too—of madness chained in gold, you shall fall into impossibility."
Viola cannot debunk what Natsuki is saying as unfound.
It makes their mysterious circumstances all the more dangerous.
Though the Catacombs are now blocked, something inexplicable safeguards that subterranean hellscape. Stranger yet, their Slave infestation has seemingly vanished. Nonetheless, leaving themselves defenceless is a death wish.
"Do you have any idea what that chained entity might be, Natsuki?" Viola directs them towards the door leading to their quarters.
"No… not at all. Maybe Shiro knows something?"
Thus, they make a sharp turn, heading for the Royal Scholar's room instead.
"There are only speculations I can make." Shiro speaks, leaning against his desk with a heavy exhaustion. "It reminds me of the velificatio from Remus… a floating cloth that suspends the Gods. Or perhaps…"
He twists in his chair, reaching for a haphazard pile of books. Retrieving a dusty old tome, he heaves it to the table. "... the Gold of Ur is a possibility. That is where the first goldsmiths derive. There are thousands of beliefs across the world relating to gold, so maybe—just maybe—I can find something within the Wælcyrge Cranic."
Wælcyrgan and gold are closely associated, there's always the chance.
But luck has been terrible for them lately.
"This is awful." Viola sighs, rubbing her knuckles against her brow in a semblance of soothing an oncoming migraine. "The Slaves may finally be gone, but now we have to contend with a…—thing—made of gold." She laughs at the irony of it all, making Natsuki and Shiro look at her oddly. "Ha, how interesting!"
'Interesting, she says…' Natsuki mulls, wondering whether Viola is actually starting to lose it mentally. This would not surprise her, considering how nightmare-inducing it has been ever since Guadeloupe fell.
No, in fact, since perhaps Kagutsuchi's assault.
"Shizuru." Natsuki begins, grabbing both of their attention. She fidgets within her chair, cursing beneath her breath. "Look… are you planning anything?"
"You think of me as deceitful during this time?" The Arcewælcyrge jabs, though she smiles fondly at her former Ánhere. "Honestly, I have no idea what to do."
Miyú likely knows something, but having council with the Grimmsyll Sage is another matter within itself. Viola falls silent; leg crossed atop the other with her arms folded. Staring at the parchment-covered desk, a vague idea materialises. "...Miyú needs Leylines in order to appear before us. The safest is positioned beneath Guadeloupe. However… hm…"
"Shizuru?" Shiro asks, trying to indirectly encourage the Arcewælcyrge to speak her mind.
"I am unsure how possible this is." Viola warns. "I require Yukino's expertise."
Shiro partially stands, lifting his hand towards her. "But what—"
Natsuki gives the Royal Scholar a look of caution as Viola suddenly raises and leaves the room. "Do not get in her way when she's like this."
"...Ah, quite right." The Scholar adjusts his collar nervously, wondering whether he has stepped out of line. "What do you think of all of this, Natsuki?"
"I don't know…"
Meanwhile, Viola is striding through the snowfall towards Yukino's quarters which she shares with Tomoe.
'The stronger the Leylines, the more powerful my Ardour is. She warned that there is also a Leyline in Wind C—' Halting in her tracks, Viola's gaze sweeps zenith to the cloudy horizon. 'Are those golden chains feeding off the Ardour in the Catacombs?'
Kicking into action, Viola speeds up her pace.
She needs Yukino's advice now.
There is also the situation regarding the bandits who had somehow detected Yukino's sealing wards.
Storming into the building, Viola passes confused soldiers and climbs the stairs. Reaching the Witch's door, she knocks against it urgently.
"Who is it?" Upon the relentless knocking, the footfalls quicken. "Alright, alright, I'm com—"
The door opens and they exchange a silent look.
Something has happened, hasn't it? Yukino warily scopes out the corridor, before motioning the Arcewælcyrge inside. "Has something occurred?"
"What has not occurred?" Viola chuckles without humour, noticing that Tomoe is not here. "Where is Tomoe?"
"She has gone to the market to track down some materials for me. The army understandably does not have those items. More importantly, what has happened?"
"I will be frank." Viola turns to the open window, discreetly closing it shut. "Earlier the Catacombs were sealed—but not by ourselves. There is something inexplicable down there—a being of golden chains. Do you have any idea what it might be?"
'A being of golden chains?' Yukino echoes, her mind quickly drifting to stories of yore. Ah, if only she had access to her library. She stresses a defeated smile at Viola. "I am sorry Shizuru, without my tomes I am not of much use. Have you discussed this with Shiro yet?"
"Yes. He was unable to reveal much, only that there are vague similarities within Remus."
"But nothing about chains specifically?" The Witch receives a nod. "There are some stories I know of, but they are only partially intact due to age." Guiding Viola towards the inconspicuous table, Yukino sits herself down and drags over writing material.
Curiously Viola watches as Yukino begins sketching what appears to be a snake: It twists in on itself, creating a mangled mess until eventually devouring its own tail. Another is then drawn, however with its head splitting into three with each coiling tightly together.
"These are worms which appeared widely on goldware before the Heavenly Abandonment. As time passed, these slowly transformed into the modern draca—dragons. This triple swirl meanwhile—" She points to the second image. "—is called a Triskelion. These form naturally in the world and have been used as religious symbols for millennia. Do you know whether those golden chains look like these?"
"I have no idea, honestly. I will show the Arles Guard and see what they think." Viola presses the conversation further. "You have mentioned before that a major Leyline rests within the Wind Catacombs. Is it possible to contact Miyú?"
What is the Arcewælcyrge thinking…? "Shizuru?"
"I am sorry, I do not think I am being direct enough: Is it possible for you to contact Grimmsyll's Sage, Miyú? There is the potential she may be able to identify these golden chains."
"Oh, I understand now! But no, unfortunately not. I can't without a spirit mirror."
"That is most unfortunate." Viola does not know what to do. 'What can I possibly do now? None of us have any idea what that entity is.' Unless she physically takes the army into the Catacombs, they shall remain oblivious.
This is of course out of the question.
"Well." Viola eases from the chair. "Nonetheless, thank you, Yukino." She forces a smile, offering her hand to the Witch.
"I'm sorry I'm of no help."
Thus, another dead end is discovered and Viola can only show the Arles Guard these sketches. Unfortunately this also does not bear fruit, for the golden chains do not match these drawn descriptions.
"I am at a loss, Natsuki." Seated at the table within their quarters, Viola draws their shared bowl closer to herself. Inside are freshly sliced apple and pear pieces which were only brought to them minutes prior. "What should I do?"
"You're asking me?" Natsuki's eyes pull up from the book she is reading, her leg crossed atop the other. "I've never seen a thing like it before. Not even in my past life did I see anything like that, I think."
It's rather maddening, in fact, considering how ordinary her previous realm was. She is confident magic did not exist there. However the world Viola originated from? It's hard to say, isn't it?
This book as well… Natsuki's brow furrows, having reread the same paragraph several times over. It is the one which Tomoe had found in the Garderobe Ruins. Somehow Nao had managed to find it during the Battle of Guadeloupe.
Thing is…
"Our Lady's Strife…" She mumbles distantly, now remembering enough to recognise what this is. "I don't know what the golden chains are, but I know what this book is about."
"You do?"
"Hm…" Natsuki turns a delicate, dog-eared page, the paper having yellowed with age. "Essentially it's a prayerbook and jotter." Upon turning this page, a scrawl of messy handwriting is covering it with many sentences highlighted. "This student's writing is atrocious!" She repulses, flicking through half the book until she reaches the prayers.
"Have you identified who owned it?" Viola brings her chair to Natsuki's side, now examining the book together.
"No… I can hardly even read their chicken-scratch excuse for writing." Natsuki shakes her head while pointing to a list. "This is a lineup for the rules we followed.
Unlike the indecipherable script, this list is printed in fine ink:
An Otome…
Will not betray Garderobe, else she has deceived her honour.
Must place the utmost care to safeguard innocence.
Will follow the path of justice.
In times of war, must adhere to Our Lady's judgement.
Has the full responsibility to protect her chastity.
"We had the Five Laws; one each for every Column. The Envoy—honour, the Headmeister—innocence, the Archmeister—justice, the Informer—judgement, and the Deputy—chastity…"
"Why are the Column titles different for the Envoy, Informer and Deputy?" Viola asks, still remembering very little about this lifetime.
"Those titles came after the founding of Garderobe by some decades, so…" Natsuki freezes in thought, suddenly moving them to the start of the book.
"Natsuki?" Viola mildly watches her with concern, her former Ánhere haphazardly searching the initial pages of the book. "Is something the matter?"
"...I had a sudden thought. I'm trying to find out when this was printed."
Thereupon the first page Natsuki finds the date. "In the year of Our Lady, three-two-five." She murmurs quietly, now pushing back to the first half.
Why is this handwriting giving her déjà vu?
"This belonged to someone in my year…"
What? She is certain of that? Viola slips a finger beneath a page, turning it to scan more script.
There are spelling mistakes everywhere, all crossed out messily. Beside these scribbles, are neat kanji, katakana and hiragana. Hang on, Japanese? "Why is this language so hard?" She reads some of it unconsciously, causing Natsuki to eye her with surprise. "I was at the top of my class in Zipang, why is the Wind language so different to Aries?!"
"Zipang?" Natsuki frantically returns to the start yet again. "S-Shizuru, do you see a symbol for… huh… oh, what did Mai's name mean… fire? Dragon? Dance?"
The Wælcyrge directs her to four distinct and complicated kanji. "Tokiha Mai."
"H…ha, really?" Natsuki stares at a loss for words, until a humourless laugh escapes her. "Ha! Haha! What nonsense is this? How did Tomoe manage to Anchor this of all things?"
Though this produces an interesting question.
"But Shizuru, how can you read Zipangese?"
"It is Japanese, though looking at it now, I feel unfamiliar." Why is that? This has happened with the Wælcyrge Cranic in the past as well. "The same has occurred to you with the Old Tongue."
"That is true." Oh! Natsuki remembers now! "Mai struggled a lot in our Coral year. With the writing, at least. She was better at speaking Wind than me, I swear." She mumbles the latter half, shaking her head.
But still, still! Something surely is looking out for them to have found Mai's book of all things.
"Shizuru, can I keep this?"
"Ah, well, certainly. You need not ask, Natsuki."
Natsuki smiled faintly, brushing her fingers along the aged book.
Nevertheless, Natsuki's getting ahead of herself. Closing the book, she set it onto the table and headed towards the bed. "Here is that thing I made you."
Retrieving the crescent bracelet from the drawer, Natsuki hesitates at the nightstand. Now that she is about to offer Viola the gift, she is beginning to second-guess herself again. What if Viola dislikes it?
"T-this is what I—"
Viola is behind her, her hands covering Natsuki's. "Calm down, Natsuki. It is fine. Do you want to give it to me?" She encourages her with a smile.
Natsuki shifts between looking into scarlet eyes then to their hands a few times. "I, huh… Yeah." She presents the handcrafted jewellery to Viola; hands enveloping it from total sight.
The Arcewælcyrge takes it, falling mute as she examines Natsuki's artistry. The leather bands twine together creatively while their ends knot through the crescent's loops. There is no way to adjust its tightness, but as she fits it, she realises something: "Natsuki, did you measure my wrists when I was sleeping?"
By the apparent shy look thrown her way, Viola smiles. Seems it is the case indeed. "Do not be embarrassed, I do not mind. Though I am surprised you did not wake me."
"I think I nearly did." Natsuki shrugs off the comment, watching Viola curiously who is stroking the iron crescent. Does she like it? "I didn't really know what I was doing, so…"
"It is beautiful, Natsuki. You have a natural talent for blacksmithing, do I need to keep telling you this?"
"Thanks. I tried to make it look de—" The look Viola casts her silences Natsuki for a moment. "...I made sure to make it look good?" She forces a smile helplessly.
"Better." The Arcewælcyrge praises as she dips closer. This makes Natsuki self-conscious, and Viola cannot help but shake her head. "You are a funny one, Natsuki." Slipping an index and middle finger into her former Ánhere's shirt, she eases her near.
Before Natsuki can comprehend what is happening, Viola kisses her lightly against the lips. Remaining frozen for a moment afterwards, she speechlessly stares at her.
"Am I not allowed to thank you?" Viola laughs, straightening to then examine the crescent bracelet. Natsuki truly does underappreciate her own talents, doesn't she? "How long did this take you to make?"
Blinking, Natsuki shakes herself out of it. "S-six or so hours?"
Oh, look at her! Viola watches her adoringly. Natsuki looks like a deer who has been caught within torchlight! Unable to help herself, she scoops Natsuki up into an embrace, hushing into her ear: "Have more confidence in yourself, Natsuki. You are talented with your hands and are shaping into a formidable warrior."
A beautiful one at that.
Sliding her palms down Natsuki's arms, Viola takes Natsuki's hands and leads her backwards. "I have had something commissioned for you. It is in this cupboard." Said oaken furniture is behind them. "Shall I retrieve it for you?"
"Sure." Honestly, Natsuki is still dazed that Viola had just kissed her! That had been so abrupt she is now unsure how to respond. Nevertheless, she is excited to see what Viola has for her.
Releasing Natsuki's hands, Viola turns around to address the cupboard. Within is a sack which she takes and hands over.
Pulling out a leather loop, Natsuki instantly recognises it as a sword knot. In comparison to Viola's golden knot, this one is black. Its end looks like a pine cone that hasn't sprouted outwards too. Fascinated, Natsuki asks: "What is this pattern called?"
"A black ribbon. Would you like me to show you how to dress your sabre?"
Natsuki keeps the sack, handing the Arcewælcyrge the sword knot.
Stretching out the sword knot, Viola loops the cone within the two straps. "Like this you can tighten the knot around your sabre's handguard." She then unsheaths her own sword, angling it to present Natsuki with her sword knot. This one coils downwards until its cone hands loosely. "During combat, you can loosen the knot enough to slip your hand between the straps like this."
The Arcewælcyrge grips the hilt and the sword knot, her hold now more secure.
So like that? Natsuki draws her sword and takes the black leather. "Is this because of my hand?"
"Yes. Though your grip has improved, I feel it is safer this way."
She isn't wrong.
"Thank you, it's beautiful." Natsuki's heart pounds as she declares this, making her wonder for a moment as to why. Then she realises it, for Viola is examining her every moment contently. Nervous, she ponders how she should next respond. Viola had kissed her in thanks—slowly, she goes red.
Why is she behaving so juvenile now?!
"Natsuki." Viola sheaths her sword, lips threatening to twitch into a smirk. "Are you forgetting something?"
"I—I don't know what you're talking about." Natsuki immediately denies, sliding her sabre back into its scabbard. The sword knot distracts her instead, feeling the acorn against her thigh. What's—oh.
There's a growing tension encompassing both Wælcyrgan as Viola steps forward expectantly.
"Natsuki, do not make me repeat myself." Viola warns, ploy within her eyes as she cups Natsuki's cheeks. "You do not like me when I am angry."
"Quit it—" Natsuki forces her face away, but goes rigid as her back touches the wall. "—y-you're messing with me."
"Am I?"
From those words and forearms skirting her shoulders, Natsuki's nostrils flare. "Are you?" Receiving a confused blink of surprise, Natsuki slings the Arcewælcyrge a smug grin. "You can't get—"
Alas—or rather, satisfyingly, perhaps—Viola's lips seize hers. The building tension plunges inside Natsuki like craving abandon, forcing her mind to haze over. 'What's… what is she doing…?'
As swiftly as it started, the kiss finalises. Pushing away, Viola looks into dazed eyes and understands what she has caused. However, upon a knock at their door, she hushes into her former Ánhere's ear. "Not now." Viola then presses a delicate kiss against her lobe. "Somebody is at the door."
The rush flees from Natsuki's body, leaving her disappointed and exhausted.
"Arcewælcyrge Viola, here is the letter from Joseph Greer." The hooded agent slips out rolled parchment from his robe, offering it to Viola. "It should detail all the proceedings that are to follow with the agreement."
"Ah, thank you. Was anything else mentioned?"
"No."
Natsuki lumbers to the table, sitting herself down heavily as the agent departs. Releasing a strained breath, Natsuki then smears a palm down her face.
This is too much.
"Natsuki, we may have some good news at last." Viola declares as she reads through the letter. "Joseph Greer has agreed to become our Occult Informer. He has already placed talisams within the Cathedral undercroft to identify those golden chains."
As surprising as it may be, Natsuki grunts in response. Shifting her legs beneath the table with unease, Natsuki cannot help herself. She is far too frustrated and hates how easily Viola managed to brush this off. They had just had one of their passionate moments again…! 'Just why—'—"—do you always do this…" The final portion of her thoughts are spoken aloud, making Viola look up from the letter.
"Natsuki?"
"We're always like this!" Natsuki's hands twist into fists at the table, glaring at the wooden surface. "The moment we're about to… to… to do that something happens! I can't take it, Shizuru!"
The desperation cast along Natsuki's face floors Viola into silence. Guilt rips at the Arcewælcyrge who places the parchment upon the table and rounds the furniture. "Natsuki—"
"—No, no, no, no." Natsuki shakes her head and jumps from her chair. "I'm not having another moment ruined because of you, me or another disaster."
As though the tides of Fate had heard, an onslaught of yells and screams ricochet outside. In response, Natsuki's demeanour plummets into anger. These interruptions—she is done with them.
Before Viola can stop her, Natsuki storms out of the room, leaving her.
What has just happened?
Making chase, Viola enters the corridor which is now populated by confused soldiers. "Where is the Royal Commander?" She speaks over the emphatic shouting and bickering. Nevermind Rila, where is Natsuki? She must have shot down the corridor before everyone got here.
"Arcewælcyrge!" Chie Hallard pushes through just barely. "It's the undead, they have re—"
"—Again?!" Viola this time commandeers the noisy crowd, shocking them into speechlessness. "You will all be silenced this instance for I cannot concentrate!" A coldness billows across the corridor as Viola breathes through her nostrils. "All of you, out!"
The astounded soldiers obey, apprehensively leaving both Viola and Chie alone.
"Now…" Viola rubs her brow in semblance of calming herself down. "...Where have the Slaves come from? Surely it is not the Catacombs?"
"It's worse than that, Shizuru. They have broken out of the earth itself."
ᚦᚢᛋ ᚹᛇᛚᚳᛁᚱᚷᛖ ᚹᛇᛋ ᚾᛖ ᛘᛠᚻᛏᛖ ᚦᚱᛁᛋᛏᛖ ᚷᛖᚦᛖᚾᚳᚪᚾ
Thus, the Wælcyrge was not thinking resolutely.
A/N: This final scene was an absolute pain to type up. I needed to thread it to the next chapter's scene smoothly but I already hit 10k. As such, I decided to leave it on this convenient cliffhanger. I'm unsure when Chapter XXVII: Orlegsceaft (Sacrificial Sphere) will be ready (I'm currently 3k in). All I will reveal is that I'm excited for the next chapter. This is because it's been planned for a year now!
Review
Guest — Nunca te disculpes por no usar el inglés si no te sientes cómodo con él. DeepL ha traducido a la perfección tu reseña. Tanto que parece un inglés fluido.
Varios lectores ya me han dicho que Cyne Wælcyrge les resulta confuso, pero no me han explicado por qué. Creo que puede ser algo más profundo que no tener el inglés como primera lengua. Esta es una de las razones por las que he renovado la historia recientemente, ya que espero haber eliminado la confusión. ¿Puedo preguntarle cuándo dejó de resultarle confuso?
Me alegro de que te haya gustado la tensión y espero que sigas haciéndolo, ya que la estoy desarrollando más.