I got something of an infection on my eye and a messed up wrist so I can't draw atm ;-;
[X] Ruby and Redwood. You try not to think about how ironic the combination is, but the Mountain Villager and the Red Bear make for quite a pair. Ruby's trial is set before yours, so this might be the last chance to see them for a while.
[X] …your love.
###
Deep winter is fast approaching at the Caer, the fifth season in between 'early' and 'late' winter finds itself knocking with the fury of your order's namesake.
You stand on the tower again, staring down at the point in front of the gates where you saw the young knight aspirant and her new partner take on their trial just a few weeks ago. Just last week you saw her again, standing proud with one stripe less, and one radiant smile.
She is a junior now. And soon, you will be too. While Drake's summary of how 'easy' your trial should be does sound strange, it does not dissuade you from the knowledge that there is going to be an opportunity soon that will take you even further among the Order.
Skiddle is at your side like usual. She hasn't been staying in her Pokeball very often in the last few days, instead keeping to your side and helping you walk. Whenever you thank her, she smiles at you. Whenever you rely on her, she glows so radiant.
In hindsight, it all changed with her. You know that some scholars have observed the empathy of Gogoats, their ability to read minds with their horns despite their lack of other psychic abilities. Perhaps that kind of power, no matter how dormant, bleeds over into you. Pokemon are, as one of the ancient texts once said, the best of us. Though humans have the intelligence and ability to build civilizations like no other, invent tools to conquer nature, and wage war that can change the face of continents, there is nothing that can truly surpass the ability to empathize and cooperate with nature that claims so much more space in the world than you.
Not two months ago you might have found fault in that kind of affection and empathy. You miss her, that Growlithe you used to call your own, and yet somehow you can't recall her name. You interacted so little with her in the end, you tried your best to raise her in between your mother's attempts to stop frivolities. It was your mother that taught you to fear affection.
It is such a difficult concept to put into words to the point where you don't even attempt to do it. To feel affection for someone who has done you nothing but harm, to want their lack of affection to mean something.
To think that it is your mistake, even though years later, you realize that perhaps it is the way they were raised and they don't truly know how to express themselves—
You shake your head. No. The Flambergs were a different kind of beast. Even among nobility, as much as you dislike the concept, they are so much worse.
One day, you know you will come to face them again. But now, you have the cold wind at your back—you who is without a doubt the strongest version of yourself. You are Aria, and behind you there is no symphony. All you truly need is your own voice, and the melody of the winter winds in between the Gilderan pines.
"Skiddle," you say, your voice as soft as it was when you spoke to the flowers in your grandmother's garden; full of color and affection that you dig out of your heart—the soil which has given birth to the worst and the best of you. Skiddle looks up, meh-ing. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
Skiddle tilts her head. You smile, your hand touching her head. She's grown so much already, reaching above your waist. With a proper saddle, you should be able to ride her soon. She leans into your hand, warmth spreading across your body as she nods.
Capella's anger is understandable, and so is your own dissatisfaction. You can't say she's like a sister to you, there is—or was—only one sibling in your life. Capella is so much more, and somehow less. You don't know what word you can use, because those were not words ever taught to you.
"I'm not so sure myself," you admit. Skiddle bah's. "No, I mean, I think it was something I had to say."
Skiddle bah's again, shaking her head.
"Let me rephrase," you say, bending down to meet Skiddle's gaze. "If you are injured, would you be happy if I was upset at you? Blamed myself for it?"
Skiddle thinks. You can see those beautiful, intelligent eyes—that reflect your own in such a way it makes you wonder just how people see you—and you can see the connections forming. You can see the internal dialogue that must be happening, and you can see her realize that just because she seems to be quite capable at reading people's emotions, there's no way to truly understand what is happening inside another person.
Skiddle bah's.
You bah back.
Skiddle baah's. You think before you respond, then shrug your shoulders.
"This is this," you say, "and that is that."
Skiddle gives you a look. You don't like it, but after a moment she just shrugs her own shoulders, as much as she can, considering most of those are hidden under thick brush of green and blue.
"I don't think it's wrong to be upset when people you like get hurt, Skiddle," you say, once again patting her head. "I think that in the circumstance I found myself in, as an aspirant and you, too, as a Pokemon partner of an aspirant—do you not think, for a moment, that it's just… normal? Are we supposed to never get hurt in the line of duty?"
'I think if we become powerful enough, nothing will hurt us,' Skiddle's eyes seem to say, 'and if nothing can hurt us, then we can be upset at each other for being hurt.'.
"Nobody is invincible," you murmur. Your hand reaches for her horn, your fingers tracing over the feather. "Not even us two. Maybe Lissy is. She's thick enough in the head that she probably can't get hurt."
'Maybe you should learn from her.'
"I am not going to trade what intelligence I have left for a constitution like hers," you say, crossing your arms. "After all, we're going to be fighting together next time."
Next time. It's such a strange emotion that wells up in you as you say it. There will be a next time, after all. You are going to be fighting again. You will be strong, and carry on even if you don't truly want to hurt anyone.
Skiddle dances around you, bah'ing happily. You smile, your worries almost forgotten.
###
It is once again the kitchen that becomes Ruby's place to meet up with you. This time, however, they're aided by Captain Redwood, who is wearing an apron and cloth over his hair. The kitchens are huge, ready to be filled with dozens of cooks at once to serve the nearly one thousand knights that call the Caer home.
This also makes it big enough for Redwood's own partner to make her appearance. The Ursaluna which shares its fur color with Redwood's own hair wears a small crown on her head that looks like it must have been made for a Tediursa.
How apt the name of Princess is for her. You've never been a fan of royalty, so the apprehension at the term is not something that you can blame the Captain for, so you swallow the discomfort when it rises up like bile in your throat.
"Ruby speaks highly of you, Aria," Redwood says, shoving what looks like an entire roast into the oven. You start at the sudden attention, your eyes moving from the three Pokemon to the captain's face. "Though it seems you have some issues with your performance."
You frown. You know Ruby wouldn't share your worries with him so easily. "Did Drake tell you?"
"The commander entrusted me with keeping an eye on you while he was gone," he says, laughing. "Though I admit you surprised me in the classes, your attitude always seems very blasé but you're quite an earnest student."
Your frown melts away. Sure, earnest. Maybe you have had some previous lessons on the politics of the kingdom, but he surely wouldn't think that considering your circumstances.
Ruby does give you a knowing look, though. You stick your tongue out at them.
"Do you truly think that war is inevitable?" you ask. Redwood pauses, the question itself is not so easily answered but the way his eyes widen makes you wonder if there's more to it. Skiddle bah's, riding on top of Princess while Opal rides on her. Opal is holding… a Carrier-Pidgey? It looks slightly irritated but also not annoyed enough to actively fight back. It is not holding a letter, at least, so it must be off duty.
"No," Redwood answers eventually, shaking his head. "I think that war is the most avoidable thing we humans have control over."
"But you still believe there will be one within our lifetime," you say, tensing up. Redwood nods, not taking as long to think. "For specific reasons, or because there has not been a period this long without one?"
"The second verse is the same as the first," Redwood summarizes. For a man who is usually so jolly, the grave expression on his face makes for a grim reminder that he, too, is a man who has fought in war. Captain Redwood is one of the people who was on the frontlines during the last Solian-Gilderan war before the princess' marriage united the continent. A war hero, for all that is worth. "It is human nature to want what one does not."
"But you said it is avoidable," Ruby says, joining the conversation after finishing their own task at the stove. "So why is it going to happen?"
"Because to defy that nature takes a strong character," Redwood says. You nod along. There's no such thing as a strong character among those craven nobles who have never seen the bloodshed with their own eyes. While men like Duke van Kesteren have fought and bled alongside their own knights, the capital nobles who most benefit from war do not even have to send their sons.
It is begrudging respect, but respect nonetheless, for those who have fought and bled for crown and country. While the world is a place you cannot change with your own two hands, those who are born to circumstances like these can only strive to make the best of it. You have not joined the Order out of a sense of naivete, after all, you knew that one day you would fight.
The throbbing in your leg and that crutch leaning against the table are not rewards for lying around and doing nothing.
"Ah," Redwood says, raising his finger to his cheek. "The lesson that was planned for the week of your trip with Silvia. It would have been next week instead, but your trials are at that time, right?"
"Yes," you say. He whistles low and Princess stands up, reaching into the giant bag that sits around her waist and pulls out a large piece of parchment. He takes it from her, laying it on the table and spreading it out. A map. "A map of the continent?"
Ancient Elysium it used to be called. Nowadays it is the Imperial Continent. Though beyond it exist many other nations and cultures, often with conflicts of their own, here only four nations truly find their home. Sol to the east, Gildera landlocked between it and two nations beyond the mountains. While they call themselves the 'Twin Kingdoms', their royal families hate each other more than any Solian noble could ever hate the Gilderans themselves.
Fortunately, due to the rather problematic wall between them and you, and some remnants of the ancestral people that live on those mountains, they are too busy with each other to make any real attempt to invade across the mountains.
They say the ancestors of the Gilderans hail from there, Girallia and Titania— where the Union once formed to take over the continent a thousand years ago.
You wonder what they're like, the people and the Pokemon there.
"Three duchies that defend the crown," Redwood says, lifting his finger. "The Kesteren Duchy I won't need to explain, it is the biggest of the three by territory, though the population is quite spread out. The other two…"
He looks at the map, then puts his finger on the capital in central Gildera.
"Duke Lambert rules no territory at all. Bound to the crown, his family occupies the seat of the prime minister, first advisor to the king. Though individuals of that family own land here and there, they delegate most of the tasks to lower ranking nobles and spend most of their time in high society."
You purse your lips. You know at least one of those families the prime minister has delegated tasks to, and you do not wish to see the capital anytime soon.
It is Ruby who speaks up next, their own finger touching the western part of the map. "Duke Tristan is responsible for the western border. The previous Duke was a dangerously unstable individual, prone to outbursts. His knights often came to harass us even though the king had been tightening the leash."
You nod. The three great families which protect the crown, spread across the map in such a way to avoid ever meeting if it isn't necessary. It is in the history of Gildera that unification may prove dangerous, and it is under the decree of the Skywrath Throne that these families may not marry among each other.
"The current Duke is kind," Ruby continues. You can see it in their eyes, how much it pains them to say something kind about the man. "Though he can't give back some things that have been taken, he has tried to uphold the king's edict. He does not travel to Regis' Pass, none of his knights are to come near it closer than half a day's travel on foot. The Calyrex Guard is still filled with loyalists of the late Duke Tristan, but none defy him right now."
The Calyrex Guard.
While the western border is protected by steep and dangerous mountains, and thus requires no real presence, the kingdom as a whole requires a policing force. The Royal Knights protect only the capital and the royal family, and so the rest of the country that is not under the protection of the Glastrier Order or the Spectrier Border Guard, has to deal with the joyful faces of those blackguards.
The kind of people who would look at a bloodied pair of children and try to take them back to their family when they beg for help.
Perhaps there's more to your kinship with Ruby than you initially thought.
"Why is it that things in Gildera always come in threes," you ask, leaning back into the chair and staring up at the ceiling. "The king had three children, three great duchies, three knight orders. Why not two? Why not four?"
"Well, if it were something like a meeting, where everyone held the same authority," Redwood says, mirroring you, though he smiles rather than staring into nothing. "Two or four could disagree and never come to a consensus, in a binary choice means two can outvote the third."
"And five would be too much authority going around," you surmise. He nods, though whether it is truly the only reason you can't say. Gildera and Sol are intrinsically tied together, their histories occupy the same span of time.
But that can't truly be it, can it? The king himself sits on the throne because he was the only heir of the previous queen. The previous queen had a sister, who became a holy woman. These are all history lessons you're intimately familiar with.
"So everything else," you say, tapping the table, "is mostly a coincidence?"
"Either that or fate," Redwood says, his smile betraying his joy at getting to teach one last time before your trials. "And to be honest with you, Aria, I don't believe in fate."
Yeah, you think to yourself, me neither.
"The king is too old, the crown prince too young," Ruby says, pressing their lips together in thought before shaking their head. They speak up again, their eyes reflecting the candle light. "If the king passes before the prince is old enough, the prime minister will become regent. The other dukes will not accept this so easily."
"Though there is little one can do to truly understand the mind of men, the young Duke Tristan and the Duke van Kesteren are both not people who would challenge the authority of the crown to strengthen their own." Redwood's voice betrays some doubt, though what exactly you can't tell. When his brow furrows and his shoulders tense, he does not just look like a physical wall; you cannot give him any kind of read either. "It is more likely that the Solian emperor will decide that we are weak enough to attack, but the presence of Marquess Reichert stays his hand. There are so many moving parts, Ruby, I could not name them all in one lifetime."
"Duke van Kesteren wanted the throne," you say. Redwood's fist slams on the table, and Ruby jumps out of their chair with such force that the chair flies over. The trio of partners look over, Skiddle so tense you can see her horns shake toward Redwood. You blink, then tilt your head. "I'm sorry, I just… remembered something from an earlier lesson. He was engaged to Crown Princess Isabella, I guessed that…"
"You should be very careful with guesses," Redwood says. Though his reaction was violent for a moment, his demeanor is not changing from the usual kind scholar, nor does his voice sound tense and annoyed at your disrespect toward his liege. "Listen up, lass, while I do not teach aspirants before they receive a partner, I do know that none of the knights in our Order would mention that engagement. Regardless of where you've heard it, do not repeat it outside of this room."
You nod, and watch as Ruby raises their chair up and tries to sit down again, though their hands are still shaking at the sudden scare. You wave at Skiddle, and she calms down, sitting next to Princess but continuing to observe Redwood.
"I know curiosity, and I know that it will not be the end of it," he continues, "so let me explain quickly. The Duke was not the heir at the time, he stepped down to marry the woman he loved."
"Did she love him?" you and Ruby ask at the same time. Redwood closes his eyes, breathing out of his nose.
"I don't know, but what I do know is that when she married the Crown Prince Aurelius, she did not respond to any of his letters. Though the Duke has moved on since then, one does not forget their first love."
And so there's another moving part in the whole equation. The political situation becomes much, much more complicated once human emotions outside of greed and hatred become part of it.
"So the Emperor's love for his late wife stays his hand at the border, because her sister reigns there—" you try to summarize everything, though it still eludes you just how ridiculous this situation must've become in a mere sixteen years since the assassination of the Empress. "While the Kingdom raises a young child born to replace two much more qualified candidates as heir and leaves the administration to three men who together wield as much power as the crown regardless?"
"Just so," Redwood says. You nod, your fist clenching over the map. "War is inevitable, I know this in my bones. Love, greed, revenge, vanity…"
"Politics," you spit. Ruby starts again, though not as badly. The poison in your voice even gives Redwood reason to pause. "Formality and etiquette."
"That is the burden we have chosen to bear," he says. "Just as ancient Atlas, who still today carries the sins of the stars on his shoulders to protect us, we are sworn to protect our country, and our master, whether the war is fought for good or bad reasons."
"And if those reasons are truly that bad?" Ruby asks. They realize, of course, that knighthood is not a walk in the park. And yet, doubts are normal. You cannot fault them. You have your own doubts to wrestle.
Redwood smiles, his hand reaching out to Ruby's hair and patting them. "Then you must sit on the Skywrath Throne or the Sunbound One to truly change the faces of these nations, child."
You grit your teeth. If human nature could change as easily as a royal decree, perhaps the life you've lived could have been different.
The dinner is set in silence. Ruby does not look very happy with the news, however certain you are that they know military success in a war is the fastest way to be granted a noble title.
The meal tastes like ashes and autumn rain.
###
The wind bites through cloth and fur, carving glaciers into your blood and bone. Snow sits on your eyelash, blurring your vision as you try to look at the too-clear sky. Once, that sky felt like the ceiling in a prison you were born into, now you can see the freedom that it promises.
Though the sun is already rising the distance, some stars are still visible, glaring down at you from far above.
You no longer need the crutch to walk. Unfortunately, Skiddle's saddle will not be ready for the trial, but you know you can walk any distance with her at your side. She remains at your side throughout the morning, watching as you prepare, as you grab your weapon from requisition—
You laugh when you remember her bah'ing at the woman who handed you the sword. 'Give me something too,' she demanded. She got a berry for her troubles, which satisfied her enough to continue the routine.
It is Ruby and Lissy who see you off.
"First light's not far," Ruby says, holding up a bag with supplies. You blink, unsure if you can take it. "It's fine, Redwood prepared one for each of us, it's not that I'm giving you anything I need."
You smile at them, your hand reaching out gently to take the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It smells of home-cooked food, preserving spices, and something familiar you can't quite name.
"Thank you, Ruby," you say. Lissy scoffs, though she also holds something in her hands. You can't say a word before she shoves it into your chest, forcing you to raise your hands to catch it. It's… a book? "You can read?"
Lissy scowls, punching your arm. You laugh, though the punch definitely hurts. Her face tightens up, and it feels so strange to get such a goodbye from her. You won't be gone long, after all. Next month, you'll all be knights worthy of the name.
"It's my good luck charm," she says. You hold it up, reading the cover. Ancient Elysian Legends. A children's book that looks both used and taken care of with such a meticulous hand. "I don't need it where I'm going, so I thought you should have it."
"I…" you begin. You aren't sure what to say to that, it might be the most meaningful thing anyone has ever given you. Something so precious the weight feels like holding a Geodude all of the sudden. "I don't know if I can, Lissy. What if it gets wet? Or it is torn?"
"It's a book," she says, her hands pushing your own back as you try to give it back. "If it's torn, it's torn. If you need it for a fire, burn it. I got everything of value out of it. But… when you come back, and you still don't want it, you can give it back to me."
You swallow, your shaking hands holding the book up to your chin. Your tears sting in the cold air, and for once you make no effort to wipe them away.
"Thank you." You hunch over, half bowing and half trying to hide your face. Drops of water hit the ground and freeze to ice in the snow under your feet. "I'll be sure to bring it back, Lissy! We can read it together, then!"
"Yeah yeah," she says, her own cheeks turning red. "Just stop crying, will you? It's really not that big of a deal."
Ruby laughs, and laughs, and laughs. After a moment, they start to hold their belly, the laughter growing louder and louder. You can't help but smile at them, and Lissy herself finds it hard to stop herself from joining. You raise your head again, pocketing the book into the bag that Drake gave you last month.
"Ruby, Lissy!" you say, your voice cracking only slightly. "I'll be off! See you soon!"
Lissy raises her fist toward you. Ruby joins in, and you smile brightly as you follow suit. Your fists come together—to new friendships forged, to future comrades to stand by your side.
A is for Atlas—who protects us from the stars.
B is for Bellerophon—
###
It is time. You walk out of the gate, greeting the guards with a bright smile on your face. Your breath becomes visible in the morning light as the sun illuminates the Caer in beautiful blue rays. The stars are gone now, replaced by the endless blue.
Skiddle and you make your way toward the small shed. It is often used for naps by the guards, you know, but never this early in the morning. It sits in between a few trees, the roof is pure white with snow, the door slightly ajar.
You knock on the door, but there is no answer, so you walk in. It is dark, the windows barred shut with planks of wood. Something smells… wrong. Skiddle suddenly lets out a strange screech, a sound you've never heard from her before. You tense up, one hand on your sword, the other reaching into your bag. Small pieces of fire stones—a short crush and they make for an excellent light source in the dark. They light the shed up like the sun itself.
The sight in front of you is a nightmare, yet despite your best efforts to wake up there it does not work.
Drake is sitting there, his back against the wall, his sword sticking through his chest. The amount of blood is ridiculous, it pools under him and has already started to freeze at the edges from the cold winter air. You try to reach out, wave your arms in front of you to dispel the illusion, but Skiddle's deafening voice kicks you straight back to reality.
She baaah's and your feet catapult you forward, giving out as you're about to reach him and skidding across the floor, blood drenching your trousers and hands.
But life is not like those stories your grandmother used to tell you. There is no heroic last stand, no final words of wisdom or encouragement. No hope to heal a wound such as this and powering through to a happy ending.
Drake is dead.
And the blood on your hands feels both like fire and fresh snow. Your voiceless cries become heaves, your shoulders shaking as you try to find something wrong with the scene. Something that can prove you're just not seeing right.
You can see cages around the Pokeballs on his waist, a trusted and tried method to avoid accidentally releasing them in places that would rather not have an 8 foot tall dragon stomping around. Would his Pokemon have saved him if that weren't the case? Did he seal them for a purpose?
A prank, a strange trick, maybe this is a test—
Something sticks out of his pocket. A letter, almost untouched by the blood. Whoever killed the man was not after any correspondence, or they would have looked for this. You reach out, inching ever closer with your fingers until you find it within your grasp, pulling slowly because you can't trust your grip.
To Marchioness Reichert it is penned, sealed with wax and the emblem of the Arcanine. Though you know little of what that family looks like now, you would recognize your grandmother's handwriting anywhere.
The world under you collapses. Drake knew all along, didn't he? You sob, your bloodied hands drenching the letter and leaving streaks of red all over the damn seal as you contemplate ripping it open to read the stupid thing.
But you can't.
It was his request, it was his trial to you, it was—
Easy, he said. Whoever killed him must've been someone he trusted. The attack came fast, faster than even his own Pokemon would've reacted.
"Drake," you say, your voice does not travel far. Skiddle is behind you, her horns poking into your back, her teeth grabbing your coat and trying to pull you away from the shed. "Drake, what am I supposed to do?"
You should call for help. You should run into the Caer, and scream about this murder. You should find any captain and beg them to find the person responsible—
Skiddle bah's into your ear with such a force you lose your train of thought once more. There are too many moving parts, there are so many unknowns, and once again your hands are full of the blood of someone you loved.
So here are the details you do know. With all that wisdom you have honed to this point, the image in front of you becomes clear:
Someone knew Drake would be here to meet you today. They were not just willing, but capable of killing the man, which narrows the amount of people in the Caer to the Captains if someone from the Caer was responsible at all. The man was old, sure, but he was still one of the strongest knights of Gildera.
And now you're drenched in his blood. Now you are holding that letter he felt was too important to entrust to anyone but you.
Now you can hear the door behind you open up as Skiddle stands in defense of you, bah'ing at the person entering—
You turn your head, your eyes wide as you stare up at the face of a guardsman. He doesn't look surprised at all. His eyes do not deceive his intentions, entirely focused on your bloodied appearance rather than Drake's corpse.
So he does not shout anything, or accuse you of anything. He does not point or try to call for backup. Instead, the man lunges at you with all the confidence of a trained and experienced knight. If he kills you, he won't have to argue about your guilt. Dead women tell no tales, after all.
You roll out of the way only for him to grab his Pokeball.
The man summons his own Pokemon, the Dodrio immediately moving towards you before Skiddle blocks it.
"Skiddle, attack!"
Skiddle's horns grab one of Dodrio's heads in between them. She jumps, twisting her body in the air and slamming the taller Pokemon into the ground. It might have worked, were it weaker, but Dodrio recovers swiftly and slams Skiddle into the ground in return. The guardsman approaches with his own blade drawn, and you can't do nothing.
You draw your own sword.
"You'll be hanged for this, girl," he says. "The poor orphan, killing her own mentor!"
You don't even try to deny it, because you know it will not work. He already has a narrative ready, and if you lose this fight that will be your end. He swings his sword, you block with your own. Skiddle jumps at the wall and off it to slam Dodrio away.
Well, at the very least you know one thing as your grief is washed away by adrenaline and anger. A man who swings his sword so sloppily could never have hurt Drake. You clench your teeth, pushing him away, readying another swing right at his neck.
But a noise behind you stops you both. A click, a whirr. A metal cage opens up around Drake's Pokeballs, one of them loosening from his belt. It shakes violently, cracking slowly. The mechanism of the cage struggles to hold it inside as the lock breaks down.
The Pokeball opens up, and out of it comes Typhon, the Dragonite that fought with Drake for the entirety of his career. It looks old, for sure, almost human in the way the age shows as lines on its face, scars on its body, and pale antennae. His eyes are out of focus, and in his frenzy he does not even listen to Skiddle who is trying to communicate. The sight of Drake's corpse makes him roar with a ferocity that paralyzes you and the guardsman both. Dodrio runs out of the door and away from the shed. Skiddle does not. Skiddle takes slow steps toward Typhon and bah's, but Typhon is not listening.
He roars again, wind whipped up around his body. It becomes visible to the naked eye, streaks of white and blue forming a furious storm. You shield your eyes, but when your feet leave the ground you realize there is nothing you can do. The ceiling of the shed blows up and away, and suddenly that beautiful clear sky feels like a cage once again.
You try to hold onto Skiddle, but the hurricane separates you with such a force—
Typhon grabs hold of you and drags you into the sky. This is it, you think. This must be where it ends.
But it's not. Typhon spins around, more and more wind whipping up as you can feel your body lighten up and begin to float. It glares at you, roaring loudly, and yet you can hear it. The voice in its heart. That last bit of soul-wrenching sanity aware that decades spent with the man he called his best friend are now over. You can see Skiddle on the ground, calling out to you. You can see three more men who have secured the perimeter, likely there to back up the treacherous guardsman.
They all wear those blue and white uniforms, they are all knights who have passed their trials, who grew up with the Order.
Typhon's grip tightens around your arm, forcing you to look at him.
He says something. And then—
—you black out for a moment. A streak of green fills your vision—
You are Aria.
A traitor to your Order, in the eyes of those who used to call you comrade just a day ago.
Run.
###
You who is filled with wisdom, awareness and love—
The way ahead of you is full of treachery and peril.
So choose your path.
[ ] You are Aria, Unyielding.
You have lost too much. You will not lose anything again. If you want to protect what is precious to you, you must stand against the most powerful and hold your ground. No one is invincible, but you can become close to it.
[ ] You are Aria, Revolutionary.
The world will continue to take from you unless you change it. Ideas are powerful, but unless they become reality they remain only ideas. You must root out what is wrong, and you must fight to set it right.
[ ] You are Aria, Pathstriding.
The Order was never your home. Drake and Capella were, Lissy and Ruby were. The world is larger, more complicated than a single Duchy. To find the truth that hides in the winds of war, your feet must touch unknown ground.
The man who took you in. A bald Commander whose name makes many tremble in fear. To you, he's your savior and mentor. His trusty Partner is a Dragonite as scarred as him.
