Alright, end of arc 1/book 1.
Fortissax, or, Fort as he more and more thinks of himself these days, merely offers a smile and a short bow of his head to the gasping mortal residents of this fair city before he continues on his way.
The smile hiding the pain still gnawing at his bones. His flesh, the visible part of it at least has mended, but the deeper hurt still lingers. And he suspects it'll linger for some time still.
After all, his friend, like he himself, and the very city around Fort which too is in the process of mending, if the clack of hammers and the shouts of masons are any indication…alongside the cheers and the sounds of merriment from more distant parts.
Godwyn too remains weakened, after…whatever it is he did near the end, after Fort had failed his friend and unconsciousness claimed him.
Weak enough that he can't yet utilize his mending miracles.
…or at least, so he claims.
Fort might not have had occasion to interact with the Lady Goddess much but, the way his friend's eyes flitter hither and fro, and how Godwyn glanced with trepidation at the Lady Lucia who stared at his friend like a hawk, looking for a sign, a hint of his friend trying to do just that. And bandaged as the woman was from head to toe, she somewhat resembled some of the specimens Fort had the luck to observe over the years...
He very much suspects his friend could help them all mend faster but, his Lady Mother has put a moratorium on that. At least for a few more days still. The woman's love for Fort's friend obvious. As is her worry.
Love and worry which, despite the harsh words exchanged between mother and son alongside his friend's choice, Fort doubts either the love or the worry have abated.
As he approaches the temple his sister has apparently decided to call home , or, the framework for one at least, the clack of hammers and the shouts and yelps filling his ears, Fort immediately suppresses the momentarily longing. Why couldn't he and…heh, Lansy, have received such love from—
He squashes the thought.
But he can't help but wince as once again the memory of his friend arguing with the Lady Goddess springs to mind.
The feeling of discomfort stemming from many a source, but, chiefly from the fact that Fort has never been the most…social of beings. And thus, to be forced to have a throne front and center…
Well, if his mind refuses to yield, a distraction will do. And what better distraction than—
"Sister!"
His shout as he enters the temple and its yet open roof, causes Lansy to startle, and him to grin. For he'll tease her for this for a long, long time.
"Eh, Fortie?" the smile is replaced with a frown. "What are you doing here?" she asks as she turns away from the middle-aged mortal knight, Gaive, he believes was his name? "It is time yet? Surely not? I thought you weren't set to depart for—"
"No you hay-brained drake," he says with a groan as he steps closer and the knight bows and leaves them to their peace. "We're not leaving yet, I merely came to see how you're doing."
Well, part of the reason at least.
"Oh~"
But his words could have been chosen better, for his sister's whole face lights up, a worrying grin spreading across her lips as she all but lifts off the ground.
"Is lil Fortie worried about his big sister~ Ohhh I knew you cared!"
"I'm the older one and you know it! And…somewhat, yes."
"E-eh?!"
His frank admission causes the hay-head's eyes to widen.
Good, it seems he can still make her stumble.
"Be that as it may, how are you fairing, Lansy?"
"Don't call me that!" she says with a pout before sighing and nodding. "Well enough, all things considered."
"That so…and apologies, but are you sure you wish to remain in Leyndell? Father's corpse…"
The panicked shudder and his sister's face growing pallid, those cannot be faked.
"I-it's alright!" she says, with forced cheer and a fake smile. "H-he is dead! Killed by my prince."
No Fort. Today is not the time to rehash that argument. Maybe one day she'll realize what exactly a princess is…
"And one of us has to stay behind, right? That's the role of an ambassador! Is it not?"
Fort nods, even if on the inside he feels, as his friend once put it, like a right heel.
Forgive me sister, but I had to be certain.
He knows his friend had nothing to do with it. After all Godwyn had never expressed much interest in communion, only interested on the mechanics and the theory behind it, like a scholar. Not that Fort could help him much with that. That would be more his mother's area of expertise. Florissax had played a key role in the invention of the art after all.
And, even though he can't know for certain. Fort has little reason to believe the Lady Goddess would be interested either.
While the forces of the Golden Order are even more unlikely to know about it, or be allowed to approach the corpse to begin with.
Thus, the only other possible culprit…
Is clearly innocent and he regrets causing her such distress.
But then.
That clearly means…
He fights back the urge to look past his sister and glance through the Temple's scaffolding towards where Gransax's body slowly turning to stone, no doubt set to become a part and fixture of the city.
So like his father, he supposes. Even in death, not asking for permission and doing as he pleases.
Only…
He doesn't look, but his thoughts continue to remain to where Fort stabbed Gransax's own lance through his sire's chest. And where…
But no, perhaps he's wrong. Gransax is…was a freak after all. Who knows how his internals worked.
"You are right, of course. But I think I might pray to the Lady Goddess, and wouldn't that be a first. But her poor subjects will need all the help and blessings they can get, if you are set to be their teacher in all things Dragonic."
Lansy gasps, and her barely concealed fear vanishes, to be replaced with narrowed eyes and, with a growl…
She kicks him in the shin.
Making him hiss but his smile remains even as his sister starts to berate him.
He earned that.
As for the other matter…
He might yet be wrong. Time will tell.
But speaking of time.
"Lansy," he asks, avoiding another kick and, grabbing her in a headlock proceeds to vigorously rub her hair, making her cry and plant an elbow in his ribs.
"Cut that out!" she cries before breaking free and with a sigh, fix her dress and stare at him. "What is it?"
"You'll be there tonight, yes?"
And like magic, that does the trick, the fear and the anger both vanish entirely as his sister's head bobs up and down fast enough he fears it might fly loose.
"Of course! Godwyn will be there, will he not?!"
Should have known…
"Yes, sister, I very much suspect he will…"
What his friend's sees in the brat he will never understand. But, perhaps it is better this way and it's not like he minds. The two clearly enjoy their time together and wonder of wonders, Lansy has started actually showing signs of having a brain from time to time!
To anyone else, the footsteps would be silent.
Tiche shows no sign she heard them.
Continuing instead to examine the knife in her palm before, with calm, controlled movements setting it beside the rest of its kin and then picking up a few throwing daggers.
A shadow falls over her sitting form.
"Since when."
"Nice to see you too, mother," she can't help but spit the word at the end there, not bothering to lift her head from her examination.
"You didn't answer my question."
"And I don't intend to."
Even as appears nonchalant, Tiche prepares to fight if necessary. On the mend she still might be but now, Alecto will no longer find her such an easy target. And unlike before, she suspects her Lord will not take Alecto's 'lessons' in stride any longer.
For a few instants, silence reigns before—
"Heh."
The mirthful snort leaving her mother's lips, that she did not expect.
Nor the small sealing pouch landing in between her legs.
"What's the meaning of this?" she asks, raising her head at last only to find Alecto rolling her eyes.
"A failure and a traitor you might be, but while you play at being a blushing maiden to your lord." For a moment Tiche's heart almost stops but then she realizes that it's simply Alecto being Alecto. Using words as a dagger as often as she wont. "Do try to remember in between spreading your legs that you are still one of the Goddess', the Golden Order's knives. And, even if I doubt it on some days, my daughter too. So, I expect you to represent us adequately out there and this…"
Her mother kicks the leather bag laying yet empty next to Tiche, sniffing with disdain as she does.
"This won't do. Thus, yet again it falls upon me to rectify your mistakes."
Tiche can do but one thing in response to that. Answer in but a single way.
"As you say." She offers a tiny nod. One given to an equal, no longer a deeper, more subservient one.
Friends, they might never be. Comrades…time will tell. But if nothing else Alecto does care in her own way, and she is still family. And more honest words of gratitude she would have scoffed at.
"Don't disappoint me further yet, girl," Alecto says with a scoff and turns around and no further words are exchanged.
Tiche goes back to examining and gathering provisions before pausing, hesitating. Her eyes fall on the leather bag and then the sealing pouch.
She picks the sealing pouch and returns to work.
"Come on you lout! Break open another cask! I'm dying of thirst here!"
"More like you are making sure everyone else does you mutt!"
Smiling, Mohg just sits there, and takes it all in. Watching the nearby crowds of small folk making merry, hearing the pleasant tunes and voices mixing together as the people, like the days past, celebrate being alive.
And not even his presence and appearance is enough to pout a dint in the people's excitement. Granted, whispers and pointing are without end, but—
"Here you go, brother." A mug of golden honeyed ale finds its way in front of him, and Mohg picks it up, the mug relatively tiny, and nods his head towards Godwyn, with a brilliant smile.
"My thanks, brother!" he says, and means it before taking a sip, a small slow sip. For the…repercussions of consuming a cask all by himself a few days prior, after getting his first taste of the liquid goodness won't soon leave his mind.
But as he does, a young child slips by their table, which out of consideration, they'd picked one near the edge of the party, and starts sniffling as she grasps her knee.
"There, there, little one," his brother says, letting go of his mug and kneeling by the little one's side before Mohg can even start to rise.
Not that he knows enough to help to begin with.
But recent events have shown him the errors of his ways and so, like his brothers he too must learn and acquire the power to mend.
Still, Mohg tenses.
"Brother…"
Only for Godwyn to smile at him and wink. "Tis no matter, brother, I can do that much," he says and indeed, with but a brief frown, rays of Gold fly out of his brother's hand and the little one's sniffling stops.
"T-thank you my Lord!"
Making them both smile.
"Go on and enjoy the festivities," Godwyn says and the little one needs not be told twice, rushing into the heart of the crowd and towards the flames near the center where the smell of roast and pots and the music and the dancing is thickest.
"Brother…" he tries again and again Godwyn winks at him.
"Fret not, as I said I'm more than up to something like—Mohg, why are you pointing behind me…Oh…"
Mohg picks up his mug and stares at the sky and the brilliant stars above. Stars which remain a wonder.
"L-Lucia, I-I can explain!"
"Oh? Explain what my Lord? Surely you didn't break the promise to your Lady Mother, did you?"
"Lucia…"
"Thankfully the glare from the fires temporarily blinded me…just this once."
"Thank you…"
Mohg wisely keeps quiet. The matter does not concern him, it is between his whipped brother and the Lady Knight and, the Lady Goddess.
Besides.
Lady Lucia has been…miffed these last few days, and if he risks interjecting and pointing out the fact that his brother acted in a noble manner, the woman is likely to skewer him and slowly roast him over the fire.
And he's seen her strength firsthand. While her late sister was stronger still and Lady Lucia seems unwilling to reveal her true strength again, at least if his brother's few words on the matter and the tiny diamond on her brow are any indication…
Mohg still wishes not to risk it.
He wants to see more of the outside world after all.
And to do that, he needs to live long enough to do so!
Sorry, brother, just this once, you are on your own!
And speaking of brothers…
The heavy clanking of metal draws everyone's eyes as a figure almost as tall as himself approaches their table.
Oh brother…
Watching my brother approach, my heart can't help but be filled with a feeling most bittersweet.
For it is indeed gladdening to be reunited with my kin. If for a short while.
And yet, in contrast to Mogh, whom sits proud and with a simple robe.
Morgott.
Morgott…
My brother is covered from head to toe in heavy clothing and what bits of plate Hewg could re-purpose in so short a while.
The ol' smith's tongue hurting me almost worse than my now departed old friend's and Gransax's best attempts combined.
I suspect it'll be best if I space my interactions with the smith until we depart suffice to say.
But the sight of my brother hiding his visage so, remains distressing, for it's not like by choosing to do so he hides his curse. Anyone who but chances to look at him will know the truth in an instant. The robes and the hastily put together armor, or, I suppose metal suit, follow the grooves of his horns for the most part. Only the mask and hood concealing his face could be said to somewhat adequately hide the curse.
Distressing.
Irritating.
But not something I can fix anytime soon.
So, much as I don't like it, Morgott's issues will have to be dealt with at a later date.
"Welcome brother!" I say, forcing a smile on my lips as I rush to meet and, more importantly, embrace Morgott. For as I've quickly learned if given the chance, the time to prepare, my brother is quick to ward of attempts at physical affection. Even if, as he does now, the moment contact is made he reluctantly accepts them. "What kept you?" I ask as I let go, taking a step back.
"Fair tidings to you as well, brother," he says and after a few seconds of hesitance, joins us at the table, and at my signal, Lucia rushes to bring an extra mug. "My apologies but I was engrossed in a discussion most interesting with some of the scholars on the matter of the Order."
Both me and Mohg sigh, even as Morgott accepts the mug proffered by my knight a few moments after with some reluctance.
"Only you brother, only you," Mohg says with a shake of his head. "We've earned our freedom. We survived the impossible and you go back to studying."
"We've earned nothing," Morgott says, eyes growing stormy. "Only by the grace of the Goddess and our brother's sacrifice are we affronted this chance. This chance to earn our freedom and prove our worth in true. You best remember that while out there, Mohg."
"Yes, yes, brother, as you say," Mohg says with an eyeroll something which cause Morgott to bristle.
"You…" before the massive man's shoulders seem to slump and a tired sigh escapes his mask, which he promptly removes and, after a brief sip and some hesitance he meets my eyes. "Brother, pray forgive me, but…"
"Yes?"
"Are you truly certain of this? Your choice I mean, it is not too late to change your mind and—"
"I'm certain, brother," I say with a smile. "And my words remain no less true today, 'if there's room for but one son of Godfrey in Leyndell then let it be Morgott.'"
At that, he squirms.
"But, I…"
Reaching across the table I gently squeeze his shoulder's plate for a moment.
"Brother, peace. It's not like I'm exiled." Unlike another brother, and the process of having his Grace stripped of him…Harrowing. "Merely, as you said, me and Mohg will have to earn you both your freedom in truth and besides." I smile. "We'll visit and I've had my fill of Leyndell and Mohg longs to explore, no?"
"That's right!"
I nod. "See? All's well. I've had my fill whereas you? You are merely taking your first steps, discovering the wonders of our fair city and the Order. So, make the best of your time here." With a grin I pull back and wag my finger. "But do take good care of my holdings, yes?"
Only for my joke to fall flat and Morgott to give me a serious nod.
"I will, brother. You have my word," and both me and Mohg sigh making the man blink before we relax and enjoy the presence of friends and kin.
The number of which increases soon as Fort and my princess join us.
The pleasure of their good company easing the ache still suffusing my bones. The ache that seems reluctant to part with me.
My sister's, Melina's boon, might have granted me temporary strength beyond compare, and the hunger, the need as well as the means to extinguish the infernal light and take care most of the foes infesting my fair city. But, the cost…
The cost… as I came to a stop at the end by my mother's form, collapsing, spent, with her arms quick to catch me.
Pushing my body so, while I'd only just harnessed the power of my goddess for the first time…
Ill advised to say the least.
And thus, why I suspect my mother won't let me stretch my muscles, so to speak, until my Uncle arrives at the earliest. For soon after I…we'll depart and then it'll be out of her hands.
"Ehehehe~"
Speak of the gremlin.
"My prince~"
What is it? I sent as my knife arrives. And Tiche's arrival reminds me of one of our stops in this upcoming trip. Somehow, I need to make my way to the Eternal Cities, for they hold a knife which is of special interest to me.
"You made me a promise~"
On the one hand, it is good to see my gremlin's spirits restored to normalcy, on the other. My muscles tense and my smile dims some, even if I hope, not enough for anyone to notice.
I'd made a pact with two goddesses after all…
And I take it you want it fulfilled right now? Very well, what—
"No!"
Pardon?
"I want you to kiss me!"
"Godwyn?"
"My Lord?"
"My Lord?"
I wave away the worried cries from my three ladies.
Putting aside the…challenges with what you ask. You're sure you—
The goddess' eyeroll, the certainty of the act slams into me like an almost physical sensation.
"Not right now you dummy! And leave the how to me! Just make sure you practice. Lots and lots~ of practice for when the time comes, I want you to steal my breath away and make my toes curl! Got it mister!?"
What can I say to that?
But of course my goddess.
"E-eh?!" as the gremlin turns into a squealing mess its nice to see some things remain unchanged. Like the fact my gremlin remains weak to direct attacks.
As for her 'pact'?
Less onerous than I expected, than I feared, and, one I'll be happy to fulfill when the time comes.
Less onerous than what Melina has tasked me with at any rate.
And I suspect I'll find the means to fulfill both out there.
But for now.
For tonight?
The world can wait as we celebrate our victory and continued survival. And as my eyes fall on my women I can be forgiven if my grin turns a tad…lecherous and the girls blush under my gaze.
Who to choose, who to choose…
But why settle?
The three of them shall be mine, tonight.
And so will the world and mother both.
In time.