- Pronouns
- He/They
[X] … towards the city of Water, near the northern sea, Siren's Call.
Mostly voting because Suicune's my personal favorite Legendary Beast.
Mostly voting because Suicune's my personal favorite Legendary Beast.
Nobody in the villager quarter makes a comment about Sophia moving in with you. In the end it happens so quickly you don't even have time to really process the idea that there is a person who has sworn to follow you.
You do have time to establish boundaries, however. You do establish, quite clearly, that you're not interested in being idolized. In the same vein, the relationship between you and Sophia is not that of a lady and her knight, but of two friends who have, at this junction, decided to walk their future path together.
It does not help, however, to see the joy in her eyes at your gift. You didn't think too much when you bought it, but somehow it seems to have invigorated her. The necklace you gave her hangs around her neck, shining in the sunlight reflected on top of the omnipresent snow. The one you bought for Capella hangs around your neck, until it's time to meet again.
You do not feel guilt anymore over the joy that you have when Sophia is with you.
Today you're trying to take it slow. Sophia and you have found yourself in a park, sitting and watching some of the children play in the snow, making sure nobody gets lost.
She looks much better already, though you can still see the way her hand crawls to her belly whenever she thinks you're not watching, her breath growing shallow whenever the thought of her injury and near-death returns.
It's the first time you truly feel like you can relax, though the dinner at the pastry restaurant was already a solid step in the right direction. Unwinding always feels like a bad idea, hoping for a better time is usually met with some form of approaching conflict.
Let it come, you say.
You will not cower from adversary.
The big ball of snow that Lisa is holding in her hands though, you might cower a bit from that.
"Do not," you say, trying to sound stern. Unfortunately she does not seem willing to listen, as whatever authority you have is challenged by the desire to throw frozen water. "Lisa, you will regret this."
She smiles so wide it might as well split her face in half. "Regrets are for old people!"
You don't have time to wonder where a girl this young learned to say something like this, because the ball of snow was thrown with all the power of a small child on a mission. Fortunately, Sophia steps between you and the vicious attack.
Unfortunately there was an attack from the back! One of the boys had his own snowball ready and hit your back, causing you to jump up and forward, slamming into Sophia and falling on top of her into the snow.
Now you're both freezing.
"Well," you say, slamming both fists into the ground and shoving off it, righting yourself up. You grab Sophia's arm, helping her up, and give the children a stare.
Some of them do notice that they have gone too far. Some don't. One of them throws another snowball, which you slap out of the air with your palm, then bend down to gather your own weapon. The girl that threw the ball looks a little concerned before trying to run.
You don't let her, your snowball thrown with all the precision of a true knight. It hits her square in the back, shattering into dust and sending her face first into the snow.
The war is on.
What happens next is not something one can put into words. Battles fought over the border could not compare to the viciousness of two trained knights having a fight with a dozen children in the snow, the sheer destruction wrought inside Wallburg is akin to the scars left by Drake's own destruction of Kael's Stand.
Unfortunately, it was treachery that did you in. Sophia, realizing that there is no worthy adversary among the children, decided to challenge you instead.
You lost in five seconds flat when she grabbed you from behind and threw you into the snow.
It ends up with laughter and joy. Everyone is soaked and shivering, but that is nothing a warm bath will not be able to fix. Sophia, the only one that has taken very few actual hits, ends up joining you in the snow by lying down next to you.
The children go their own ways back home, and you decide to take a minute to catch your breath before joining them.
"Why did you want to become a knight?" Sophia asks. Her injury forgotten, the girl next to you is badly out of breath and clearly unable to stand up by herself.
"I don't know anymore," you answer, your breath visible in the air as you sigh. "At first it was so I could make Drake proud, then to stand side by side with Capella, my best friend. Then… then I wanted to stand side by side with my other friends, too, with the captains that helped and taught me."
"You no longer want that?"
"I do," you say, shaking your head. "But I don't know if I want it in the way the Glastrier Order wanted it from me. Now that Drake is dead, it feels like I've lost my home. Even with my friends there, I don't want to dedicate my life in service of the Duke to be with them, I want our friendship to go beyond such borders."
"It's admirable," Sophia says. You notice your eyes, your stupid, stupid eyes, losing focus again as they start stinging. They blur because of the winter air and nothing else, you tell yourself. "I understand why you are full of hurt being apart from them, it'd be lovely to meet them one day."
"You'd get along with them for sure," you say. Well, maybe not Capella. But then again, that girl doesn't get along with anyone that isn't you.
"What about you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why did you become a knight?"
She looks a bit lost at the question, not in the way someone without a proper answer does, but in a way that someone who is unsure just what the answer is. The conflict in her eyes makes you hesitant to continue, but before you find the courage to tell her that it's fine, she does give you an answer.
"Money," she says, her voice a bit low. "To be honest with you, it was always money."
She looks embarrassed of all things. Sophia's face is slightly red from the cold, and the way her eyes move away from yours you know for sure she is ashamed. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you can't help but laugh.
When she starts pouting, you laugh even harder.
"It's not very noble, I know!" she says. "But my family grew up poor, and I wanted to have something for myself in the future. The knights pay better than anyone else!"
"It's not that," you say, your shoulders still shaking in joyful laughter. "With how you hesitated I thought it'd be something weird, but money's probably the least weird thing there is."
"Whenever I told anyone else, they mocked me," she admits, her hands balling into fists in her lap. "They said without a proper reason, I could not be a proper knight."
"Well screw them," you say, putting an arm around her shoulders. She goes rigid, but does not push you away. "There's no such thing as a wrong way to be a knight, if there's one thing I learned over the years with the Glastrier Order is that as long as your actions speak for themselves, nobody may criticize you."
You stand up again, once more reaching out to Sophia to help her up. You pull her from the snow and give her a smile.
"You still helped people," you say. "Your reasons for doing so are your own, but the effect you've had on others will remain the same."
One cannot eat honor, or live on fame alone. Your own reason to join the patrol was money, and in the end you've succeeded in not just earning that coin, but also saving a life.
And then she looks at you, and you see in her eyes those were words she clearly never heard before but always wanted to hear.
"Now let's get ourselves warmed up," you say at the same time as she makes a noise to speak. She does not continue, her mouth closing. She just nods, holding your hand on the way back to the villager quarter.
"What are your reasons," Lissy asks, polite enough not to speak with a full mouth. "You don't really talk much with anyone that's not Pelly, so nobody knows what you're about."
There's no doubt in your mind as to your answer: "I want to repay the debt I owe Commander Drake."
"Well, that is kinda boring," Lissy says. Ruby nods for a moment before shaking their head way too fast. "What, without ambition, you're just going through the motions? Drake's not gonna live forever—"
"Lissy!" Ruby shouts.
"So when is that debt repaid? Are you going to live for someone else the entire time?"
You draw your lips into a thin line. Again, your image of Lissy begins to shift a little. She's not quite the dumb brute that Capella presents her as, but short bursts of insights don't make a genius yet.
Nevertheless, the question is completely valid.
"I don't know," you admit. "When he brought me here, I had given up on a lot of things. I didn't expect to get this far."
"Everyone got their own reasons," Lissy says, shrugging, "but those got to be your reasons. Did the commander ever say he expects you to follow in his footsteps?"
You shake your head. "It is my reason, but I don't disagree. I know that there's much more out there than the Order. I want to see more of Gildera. I want to keep staying with Skiddle and winning fights. I want to make a name for myself. All of these are me."
Lissy hits the table with her fist. She smiles at you. "Well, until you find something big, that's more than enough, ain't that right, Ruby?"
"Y-yes!" Ruby says, shouting to meet Lissy's cadence. "We're g-going to protect people soon, that's one step of many!"
The three partners shout in agreement. You don't raise your voice, but you find your heart beats louder.
If you stand for nothing, Aria, what will you fall for?
It is Leif that ends up breaking your routine at the quarter. He appears like usual, in full armor and on top of his Rapidash, though this time he looks slightly less upbeat than usual. You know that the past few days, he's been taking more and more responsibility on. Sophia is getting her affairs in order, so you're alone when he asks to meet you.
"Hop on," he says, without much of an option to say no. While you're the last person to just accept a demand, you know that this man has helped you more than enough to get the benefit of the doubt. You take his hand and he swings you upward, letting you settle down behind him on the Rapidash.
Rapidash says something that you can't quite make out, and he laughs as if his Pokemon just told a joke. "I guess it's a bit late for introductions, but what's his name?"
Leif hums. "Right, I knew there was something I forgot. This is Bernard, softest mount in all of Gildera."
You can't disagree. Though the saddle under you is somewhat solid, there's a feeling of lightness that surrounds you.
"So where are we going?"
He tilts his head toward the castle. You frown.
"We're not visiting the Marquess, right?" you say. You have the letter on you at all times, but there's no way you have enough clout with them to actually meet the nobility that governs these lands and this city. Especially not during such a difficult time, in a harsh winter, while there's conflicts at the border.
"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "The Knight's Quarters. You're invited to a meal today, our treat."
Well, you can't say no to a good meal. While you love the villagers' foods and ingredients, they don't have much in terms of variety. After seven kinds of bean soup, you do feel like you could eat something else today.
The rest of the trip is quite quick and quiet. You don't see much that you haven't seen before, passing by the first watchtower and then toward the main road that leads up all the way to the castle itself, built into the mountains. Calling it a castle feels wrong when you're this close, staring up at it. A fortress, maybe. A Wall.
The knight's quarters aren't inside the castle itself, but to the right of the gate and further towards the end of the edge of the city. It does look similar to what you're used to, at least. You can immediately tell where the barracks are, what places are there for Pokemon, and what places are there for feeding the poor and downtrodden aspirants ready to prove themselves.
You dismount next to the dining hall, and Leif gives Bernard a nod, sending him off toward the stalls instead of using his Pokeball. You enter mostly unseen, finding yourself staring back at a few curious knights who are clearly wondering about the civilian that just came with one of their knights.
It's still a mystery to you just what rank Leif actually has. While ranks in the Glastrier Order are depicted by stripes and symbols, the Spectrier Knights have their armor in lieu of a uniform. You can tell the difference in some armors, but Leif is wearing the same that Sophia wore. He's wearing different ones from the lightly armored young men and women who must be aspirants, so—
"You're Sofia, right?" he asks. You almost speak the truth, suppressing the reflex at the last second as your lips part. Your teeth slam together with a loud click, and you nod instead of speaking. "I am Leif, Knight of the Spectrier Guard. I lead this evacuation effort."
"You do?"
That's not the right tone, is it? You open your mouth to apologize, but the man just shrugs.
"I know I'm too young for it, but age matters little here," he says, laughing it off. "I used to grow up in a village, so I know the people and the paths better than some knights who've been around longer."
"That's… fair," you say. Experience can be useful, but the different kinds of experience are often difficult to weigh against each other.
Three knights are there with you, led by Leif. You're not the only one who's decided to join the patrol, however. Two other villagers with their own Pokemon, as well as five unknowns make a total of eight with you included. All of them are quite young, with the oldest maybe in his mid twenties.
"A criminal has been sighted near the city," he says. You purse your lips. The situation has been making you too nervous so you've stopped reacting, at this point you can't change anything. If the Glastrier Knights decide to report your alleged misdeeds, they'll do it. Until then, you can relax. Kind of. Maybe. Possibly. "He's not too much of a threat, but the last group that went out to look for him hasn't returned so we're assembling this group to find them. Four knights are missing."
This does raise your nervousness somewhat. The Spectrier Border Guard are not pushovers, and none of their knights should be threatened by some petty criminal. This either means something else is out there, or that petty criminal has more tricks up his sleeves.
"This is important, so listen up," he says loudly. The others in the group turn to him, while you stand up straight, squaring your shoulders. He gives you an appreciative nod, and you wonder just how many faux passes you'll make before the day is over. "Wilhelm is a petty thief and possibly still out there, but he's not our priority. If you find him, do not engage unless you have no other choice. If you find any of the knights, you use these."
He hands everyone strange sticks. They brim with energy, warm to the touch and strangely enticing to look at.
"You point them at the sky and pull on that string," he says, pointing at the string at the top. "Once it's drawn all the way down it'll release a flare up into the sky, we'll be able to find you then. So do not move until we arrive, is that understood?"
"Leif says you came here with the villagers from Traviolle," she says when she finds her voice again. "Though you're from further away, right? That sword of yours couldn't have been forged in the Marquisate."
"No," you say, avoiding her gaze. "It's from… from the Duchy. I—"
"You don't need to explain yourself," Sophia says quickly. You blink. "You've got your reasons, so just talk about it when you feel like it. I owe you that much. If Leif lets you enter the city, you belong here either way. No way he'd have given you one of the Spectrier Pokeballs if that wasn't the case."
What a simple way to make decisions. No doubts that even Leif could make the wrong choice, or that you're a deserter of some sort.
[ ] … not really your cup of tea. Your second hand is for a shield. The other wields a short blade that makes up for its lack in range with speed and dexterity. Capella was carrying these back when you traveled together to the Caer.
You don't have time to ask any questions before you're seated. The hall itself is quite warm and cozy, the candles everywhere give a warm red glow to your surroundings.
"Wait here," he says, moving toward the kitchen window. You don't need to be told twice, sitting down on a bench. The table is empty, while the hall itself is filled with a good two dozen knights and aspirants, as well as some older men and women in the back, there's enough space so you don't have to share or meet anyone new.
That's good, you're not really in the mood to meet anyone new.
Leif returns with two plates full of grub, balanced on his forearms, and two mugs full of… well, something. You're not sure what he gave you, but whatever he has is alcoholic for sure. The plates on the table, he sits down across from you, the bench under him creaking. It really can't be comfortable to always walk around in that armor, but considering Corviknight flies with it, it can't be that heavy either.
It's hard to miss once you spot it, but you can certainly tell the Marquess is proud of his order by the massive painting of him in the hall. The man is sitting, fully armored, in a rather simple chair. Next to him is the Marchioness, a woman with pale blue hair and deep purple eyes, dressed in such a simple dress it would be easy to forget she once was a princess.
If not for her smile. You don't know why it feels so familiar to you, but though her appearance is royal and dignified, the way she smiles just feels warm and welcoming for some reason.
"Comparing it to your old place?" he asks. You roll your eyes.
Zack, Aria's Champion
Marchioness von Reichert, Once-Heir to the Throne
Some quick drawings for the final dawn of the vote. There's a tie, this better not be there when the vote closes tomorrow
THIS IS SO FUNNY."A bit," you say. "You know we had something good here, right? I pretend to be some villager girl and you don't reveal my darkest secrets? Whatever happened to that?"
"Well, you happened," he says, his hand reaching up to his hair. He loosens the string around his ponytail, clearly bothered by how it pulls on his hair as he raises his glass with the other hand. "It's easy to play pretend until you start swinging around Skarmory steel weapons and declaring your name in front of poor Sophia."
You groan, your fingers tracing over the hard wooden table. "You knew from the very start, you don't need to pretend."
"This is this and that is that," he says, shrugging his shoulders again. You bite into the… cob of sorts. You don't actually know what it is, but it does taste sweet. Perhaps not knowing is better considering it looks like it came from a very questionable plant. "I'm sorry to tell you, but you're the worst actress I have ever seen. Hell the way you talk already tells me you've had some noble upbringing."
You try to resist the urge to flinch at the abrupt reminder of your past and succeed in part only by hiding your face in the giant mug of— apple juice? Does this man think you're a toddler?
"I don't know what you mean," you lie with the grace of a child caught with its hand stealing sweets from the pantry.
Her eyes narrow further. "You're a good liar, but not good enough. Spill it."
"You… Can you tell?" you ask, your voice quivering slightly. Wait, if he can tell… did people in the Caer know? Were you always this obvious?
"Little bits," he says, smiling softly. "It's some stuff you just pick up after a while, you know? People usually prefer one leg or another when they stand, but nobles are used to standing straight so they use both feet. Sometimes you use words I know a villager would never use, even knights would be hard pressed to add them to their vocabulary."
"And the fact that you probably know most villagers if you lead the evacuation efforts," you say.
"In part that's courtesy, Old Bea isn't someone you really try to challenge when she's made a choice. I let you go, then observed, and realized you're not a threat. If anything, I'm glad that you've joined up with the patrol. Sophia would be dead if it wasn't for you."
"The fact that Sophia could just leave makes me wonder," you say. He tilts his head. "About loyalty, about duty. A knight whose heart is not in it surely does deserve no place, but one whose heart bleeds with her people, would you not try to keep her with you?"
"The Marchioness Reichert has a good heart," Leif says, nodding at the painting in the hall. "'Knights are not pawns,' she once said in an argument with some other nobility. 'If one is forced to fight when their heart is no longer in it, surely the time arguing about right and wrong can be spent better by refitting their armor on someone else.'"
"Nobles and pragmatism," you murmur. "I suppose it's better than the alternative."
"Well, I do know that your former order thinks differently," Leif says. You sigh, of course they do, to him there was power in numbers, after all. "What we grant you in the Marquisate is not quite amnesty, of course if you were truly guilty of a crime against the crown, then we'd have to arrest you. The joys of borders between landed nobility is that jurisdictions become more complicated."
"Do the Marquess and Marchioness know I am here?"
"Not in detail," he says, shrugging. "In essence you're just a number on a list of refugees, with the special note on it that you're a former knight. Where you came from, what you do, it's largely irrelevant as long as you behave appropriately and don't cause trouble for our people."
"Knights and pragmatism," you say, slightly louder. "Thank you, Leif. For giving me the benefit of the doubt."
"It's my privilege to aid a lost child," he says. You purse your lips. You're practically an adult, there's no need to make fun of your size. "I'd like for you to tell me your story one day, but I'm not really so curious I'd force you to. If nothing else, that benefit of the doubt has extended into unconditional trust."
"I've spoken with Sophia about it, and the more I think on it the less sense it makes for me to really hide it," you say. In the end, the more people know your story, the more people will help you if you're still charged for that crime. "Commander Drake's death, I was the one who… who found him. The guards thought I did it."
"Oh," he says, and you do see the way he tries to process the information by drinking more of that beverage. It gives him time to think, for sure, and in the end his response is as short as you expect from him. "That's messed up."
Well, the second worst day of your life being summarized in three words might be slightly less than stellar, but it's not wrong. It is messed up.
"Typhon, that's Drake's Dragonite, got me away," you explain further. "Then I traveled, nearly froze to death, and the villagers saved my life."
Leif is uncharacteristically silent for a good minute, and you wonder for a moment if your decision to share your situation is wrong.
Then you give him the benefit of the doubt, and wait for that extra minute he takes to formulate his own response.
"They've not sent out information about the assailant, and there is no bounty with your description," he says. You nod. The recruitment center was devoid of anything that could lead to you. "This means they either have the true assassin, or you have people who don't want this information to leak."
That's about where you are, yes. You nod again, happy that someone else has come to the same conclusion.
"The trust between me and them, it's not going to be restored so easily. There's no way I can return to where I was, even if I miss my friends. I know I will meet them again, just not now, or maybe not even for a long while."
"I suppose your approach here also has a purpose," he says. You hesitate for a moment before you nod. Though you can give him the benefit of the doubt, that letter is something you cannot share with anyone. Even Sophia, as much as you can trust a girl who seems even worse at lying than you, cannot know. "I won't pry, as I said. If you are willing to share, I will be here to listen."
He takes another swig.
"So as for this dinner here, it's obviously not only about food," he says. You nod, the cob forgotten on the plate. Without any appetite, it's hard to swallow.
"Is it about the thief?"
"Okay, then let me explain," he says. "Wilhelm used to be an entertainer. He traveled through the continent, earning money with his shows, but somewhere along the way something happened. Wherever he had a show, things went missing. Minor trinkets at first, then major treasures."
"What happened? That just sounds like a long con."
"No, it's more than that," Leif says, shaking his head. "At the same time we had reports of some strange happenings, initially thought unrelated. A magician who appeared in towns where kidnappings happened, a priestess who healed people who got sicker after she left. While we still don't know how they connect, we know that they're all part of one group."
"Do they have a name?" you ask. Information like this no doubt has reached the ears of the Duke, so why weren't the knights of the Glastrier order involved? Why did nobody know about these happenings?
"No, and worst of all is that every time we capture one of them, they find their way out of prison," he says, shrugging his shoulders as he takes another swig of his drink. "Wilhelm broke out four times, though the fifth will be hard considering what you did to him."
You open your mouth to defend yourself, but somehow it feels childish to argue about how badly you injured a thief and would-be murderer. "And none of them have been killed either?"
"We don't try to kill on our lands. That is not justice. Executions may only happen after the approval of the Marquess, and for those who haven't really committed crimes that warrant such, the prison is all we truly have to deter them."
You suppose that is the way of fairness, and though you do wish that some could be dealt with easier, as someone who has already felt the blade on the neck for a crime, true or false, it is not hard to approach this situation with the idea that even criminal life is sacred until their acts grow beyond the pale.
It's strange how much easier this seems compared to the poacher. Perhaps that is what Leif meant. He's a petty thief, he makes for good theater and little else, though his ambush against the knights using the flute and the Tauros does point to a slightly more intelligent criminal.
"Now I know that after whatever happened at the Glastrier order, you won't join up with us, no matter how much we would want you to," Leif begins again, changing topics with only a slight bit of hesitation in his voice. "But right now the situation in the city is quite challenging, and you've been such a great help that the upper ranks want me to ask anyway."
"No," you say, not hesitating in the slightest. "I've realized that there's no life for me in the hierarchy of knights, I'm sorry, Leif."
"Ah, to be so young and know what one wants," he says, leaning back into his chair. "You're truly one of a kind, Aria of Rivenhold. What a life you must have lived."
"Not one I can recommend, Leif," you say, "but one I do not dare regret."
"Aye, what a good attitude!" His voice echoes over the hall. He stands up, the bench under him falling over as he raises his glass. You can see he's barely drunken anything, so either he's playing the fool or is a lightweight. "Hear me, Spectrier Knights!"
The people pay attention. You can even see some of their captains, people with much more imposing armor and aged faces, turn to you.
"The world of knights is too small for this one, but in her I see a good friend!" His words are met with cheers. You try to make yourself small, but there's nowhere to hide here. "So it is my honor, in service to Wallburg and the Marquess, to offer this!"
He pulls something out of his pocket. It's… an emblem, of sorts. It looks like the Spectrier emblem, but in the middle there is a small gemstone embedded.
"Where the Spectrier Order walks, you will never need to fear solitude, Aria," he says, handing you the emblem. "From this day onward, as approved by our Commander, you are an honorary knight."
"I can't accept this," you whisper. He grins at you, forcing your hands closed around the emblem.
You know the meaning, the presentation, the importance. You know that the Glastrier Order itself has only five honorary knights in its history, only one walking around right now. While the Spectrier Order is slightly more liberal with these, you also understand that the privilege of holding this emblem comes with certain conditions.
Catching one thief, saving one life, that's not— wait.
"The flute," you say. That bastard's grin widens.
"For securing the Marchioness' beloved flute, gifted to her by the late princess Isabella!" he calls out. "Thank you, Honorary Knight Aria. The Spectrier Order will forever be in your debt."
"You bastard," you whisper, your grip around the emblem tightening. You can't say no anymore, not when your entire plan to meet the Marchioness is tied to your good standing in Wallburg and the Order. Not when he drags you across the city to make the award a public matter in front of dozens of knights.
While this isn't enough to ask for an audience, it's essentially a free pass through the Marquisate and a promise to help you if you're troubled as long as it's within their jurisdiction.
It can be taken away if you abuse it, but Leif knows you're not the kind of person to do it.
The crowd around you cheers so loudly, you go deaf.
The bulk of that warm bread you were just holding rolls over the ground, trampled by the heavy crowd that surrounds you as your entire body coils like a spring. You're ready to maul that man in front of you in broad daylight, but you're uncertain just how much collateral damage you could bear.
The name he called you by is known to only three people, including you. Your hand is twitching toward the sword on your hip, your eyes narrowing at the bastard across you.
The man stands out, yet people seem to ignore him as they pass him by. His stature is not very tall, but the air around him makes the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. He is not a noble, the way he leans and the way he gestures have none of that grace you've started to look for after Leif mentioned it to you. Though he's very close to it. Someone who stands with nobility, whose very presence commands respect.
He stands like Drake.
"Aria, Deserter of the Glastrier Order," the man says, as if using your chosen name is meant to calm you down. If anything, it makes you even more willing to risk everything to drive that sword into his throat and stop him from speaking. "Your sentence has been deferred. I am not here to take you in."
This does not calm you any. You already knew something was wrong when no word of Drake's alleged assassin had reached the border, but to hear it spoken out loud just makes your suspicion even greater.
"The men who framed me are dead," you say, frowning. "Are you responsible?"
"We are not executioners, all our deeds are in the name of the Duke van Kesteren," he says. His voice does not rise at all, and though there is a sizable distance between you his every word is so clear it might as well be a whisper next to your ear. "Our lord requires your presence at his castle. You are invited to attend."
"And if I say no?" you ask. Inana is angry, wiggling around in her ball at your hip. Despite that strong emotion she does not come out, knowing that it would just make this situation worse. The man himself has six Pokeballs at his hip, not that you'd risk a battle in the busy street.
"Then we will have to aid your way."
The threat hangs in the air.
It is four weeks now since you've entered Wallburg. Since you joined the patrol, since you saved Sophia and captured Wilhelm the Fool. Leif mentions that the man had accomplices, that in Gildera there's a group of people causing chaos everywhere, each stronger and more capable than Wilhelm himself.
While the Border Guard is occupied keeping the peace in the buffer zone between Sol and Gildera, these people have started to spread their influence across the kingdom, and now that you're aware, your ears are honed to listen and react to rumors about them. Fortunately it seems Wilhlem's injuries remain too severe for him to break out or receive help from his allies.
"How much time do I have?"
"Little," he says. He does not sound like someone who bluffs. "One week from now, we will receive you at the gates. If you're not there, we will find you."
Your hand moves toward the emblem in your pocket. For one moment, you think about calling for Leif. To tell him what happened, to ask him for protection. But the way he says your name, the certainty in his voice, the ridiculous way he holds himself.
"If you think about calling your new allies, I will have to move earlier," he says. "And though I find it beneath me, you will see that in the name of the Duke, even these borders will not protect you, or those people who have taken you in, Sofia of Traviole."
The noise that comes from your throat is nowhere near human. As the crowd starts to become even more busy, he vanishes between them, simply walking away.
Your fist lets go of the sword hilt.
The threat of the Glastrier Order hangs over you like the Sword of Damocles. You are not someone to run from your troubles, but you are also not someone who would ever bend the knee to someone for no reason other than their title.
For some reason the Duke van Kesteren wants to see you. He sent an operative so skilled, he managed to sneak into the city without anyone raising any flags, so if he truly wanted to take you by force he wouldn't have taken the time to introduce himself.
In the end, the choice is yours. You…
[ ] … follow the Glastrier Knight back to the Duchy.
There is no world in which you will entertain the idea of service under that man's banner again. Not until you know who killed Drake, and even then, that newfound freedom will never be easy to let go of.
[ ] … ask Leif for help.
The Spectrier Order is stretched thin. Whatever the Duke's men have planned, it'll become worse when you involve the knights that are currently fighting at the border. Wilhelm alone was almost too much, you can't imagine what they could do.
[X] … you refuse to kneel.
You shake your head.
What a foolish notion. While your feet moved away from the Caer due to the accusations, now that you've seen the world outside you cannot simply forget just what happened. You cannot forgive the Order that could not protect your father, and whose inability to choose proper aspirants has led to those conspirators pointing their fingers at you.
And now that you know just what the state of the rest of the country is, how can you truly believe that you can make such a difference in the service of a lord like van Kesteren?
No.
You are not going to be anyone's knight anymore. You're going to be a knight of the people.
You have to go where the Duke can't reach you. Where your mere presence will not cause conflict in Gildera.
You have to go to Sol.
Oh you anguished traveler.
The way east is treacherous, and where the snow starts to melt, the sun will be harsher than you've ever felt.
But this is the path you have chosen, rebellious dame.
Toward Sol there are three cities, built in the faith of three loyal beasts. Your status as Honorary Knight means nothing to the people of Sol, but your deeds reach across the continent. If you become someone whose name is in everyone's mouth, whose deeds aid those downtrodden and too powerless to aid themselves, then even the Duke cannot touch you.
The cities you can reach just across the border are named after the types of Pokemon that surround them.
You go…
[ ] … towards the city of Fire, past Kael's Stand, Mallus.
[ ] … towards the city of Water, near the northern sea, Siren's Call.
[ ] … towards the city of Lightning, southbound near the mountains, Olympia.
"Drake was doing his duty when he was murdered," the Duke says. He is holding something. Capella recognizes the Arcanine seal on it. "Protecting one of my house, the future Duchess. My son's fiancée—"
He opens the scroll, and though it is not large the words 'marriage' are clear and bold and red and so loathsome.
Capella's body tenses up to such a degree, a Tauros could not move her from the spot.
Skiddle's bahs fill me with happiness.'She didn't,' Skiddle says, bah'ing her words. 'She's going to come back.'
I miss Skiddle and I'm glad we got to see them again. Real trooper, best companion a trainer can have if they're willing and able to listen.But she does know that Aria will be sad if something happens to Capella. So Skiddle will protect her.
Well. Welly well well then. That certainly casts an interesting light on things."— the girl who was once of the Flamberg Marquisate is to be wed to my son, Noah. She is not a common criminal, or a murderer. When she is found, she is to be treated with the utmost respect."
Attached to the scroll is a picture, a small portrait of Aria, ten years old, looking so joyful in that dress. So different to how Drake and Capella found her.
The rivals seem united in (if maybe for different reasons) making sure the Duchy doesn't lay its hand on Aria. Capella because she's madly in love with her. Lissy because she knows something of what horrible price Aria paid to escape her noble life.A hand comes down on Capella's shoulder, gripping so tightly there was no way to move away. Her head turns slowly to the person stopping her from bringing that bastard to justice, but something in Lissy's eyes makes her feel at ease. The sheer fury and disdain that must be visible on her face is mirrored in the woman who claims to be a future legend.
"Not now," Lissy whispers, looking around at the knights around, many who are doubtlessly just as confused at the strange twist that the assassination of Drake is taking. "You have to stay calm."
Capella does, even when it's the hardest thing she's ever done.
"Drake was doing his duty when he was murdered," the Duke says. He is holding something. Capella recognizes the Arcanine seal on it. "Protecting one of my house, the future Duchess. My son's fiancée—"
He opens the scroll, and though it is not large the words 'marriage' are clear and bold and red and so loathsome.
Capella's body tenses up to such a degree, a Tauros could not move her from the spot.
"— the girl who was once of the Flamberg Marquisate is to be wed to my son, Noah. She is not a common criminal, or a murderer. When she is found, she is to be treated with the utmost respect."
I'm not sure if that's the case, because there are some alternate possibilities, but if so, I think Noah isn't in on the conspiracy, and his father is basically setting him up for... something. Which, if true, opens a hilarious possibility of Noah having a wildly inaccurate understanding of the situation in general and Aria's character and circumstances in particular. But maybe it's just me being a sucker for characters whose arc is "delusional romantic nonsense in their head collides with harsh reality".Huh, so was the Duke in on the murder, then? That's kind of the vibe I'm getting. Like, "Bring me the girl. Alive!"
He's a capable and well trained knight, the Duke loves his son but wouldn't leave an idiot in charge of his knight order.Elpis, is Noah actually a knight? How pure is the nepotism here for him to be put in charge