A Hero's Quest: Eye of the Demon Emperor
- Thread starter Birdsie
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
Chapter 3: Days of Glory - Part 24: Roland Is On Fire
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
"If you want, how about a spar outside, in the garden?"
"Right now?" he asks, laying down the goblet of wine on the floor.
"Yes, why not?"
"Hm," Sinclair ponders. After a moment, he gives you his answer. "Okay."
You fall on your back. "Yeowch."
Your hands are sore from absorbing all of the hits with them. Your wooden training blade falls out of your hand. Since the two of you are at a banquet, it'd speak tomes poorly about you dressing up in armor and flailing swords around at each other. Spar or not.
"You okay?" Marius gives you a hand. You stand up with his help.
"Yeah. You're powerful for an old sod."
"Powerful? Nah," Marius lays down the training blade on the table so thoughtfully provided by your benefactors. "I just have keen reflexes."
The two of you are in the garden, in a small yard from stone, with several benches and a long wooden table. The sun is slowly setting beyond the horizon, with streaks of orange and purple light streaming from beyond. All praise to the great fireball in the sky.
"Keen reflexes? You have more than that. What you have borders on precognition, sir."
"Maybe."
It's an assumption at best, but you guess that Sinclair has fought with so many duellists his mind eventually accustomed to the idea of one-on-one combat. He just reads the body language of the opponent, their facial expression, and every movement they make to predict what they do next and connect his sword at the right time. This has plenty of evidence to support it, as he has beaten you twenty-three to six. And even in the times you won, you barely managed it.
"One more?" you ask.
"I think this is enough." He seems less bitter now. It seems you cheered up the old general with a little bit of combat. In a way, that makes you pity him. He's fought so much in his life he no longer knows many pleasures other than the taste of victory, and even this kind of pleasure seems to be hollow for him.
"Thank you, general." You bow your head politely.
"No need for formalities. Outside the battlefield, we are not superior and subordinate. Outside the battlefield, we are friends."
"Thanks." The old man is cool.
Trying to sustain the conversation, you decide to breathe some life into it by starting a new topic. "You like swords, don't you?"
"I do," he replies with a proud smirk. "They are among the best armaments. Precise, flexible, and versatile. You can use them for thrusting or cutting, in some cases even deal blunt damage with them in the right circumstances. Of course, they're not as good against armored opponents, but there's nothing mithril can't fix."
You know all of that. But it's good to talk with a friend. "What about morningstars?"
"They are less versatile, but the power they offer is exceptional. I haven't met many men, in armor or not, who can survive being hit by a large, metallic club wielded by a giant. I prefer lighter weapons, but I won't shun using one if time demands it."
"Any weapon you don't like?"
"Javelins. I'm not a good thrower."
You chuckle. "Same here."
A soldier comes up to the two of you and requests the general to come with him. A colonel needs something from him.
"Alright, catch you later, kid," Marius effused. He gave you a pat on the head and followed after the guard.
You return inside after a short walk in the garden, hoping no one missed you too much. Like so, you walk around, talk with a few people, drink some wine, and try to enjoy yourself. You're not much of an extrovert, but you're just trying to fit in. Make contact with other noble children, who all seem either stoked about the fact you are a Baragar, or very envious. Regardless, they are impressed.
You are approached by Roland, whose face seems to be stuck in the past. He just stares into the blank space in front of him, expressionless.
"What happened?" you ask. Maybe he's feeling some stress after the war? It's natural, especially that both of you are still young. "Roland? Roland!" you call more loudly.
He snaps out of it and looks at you. With a low voice, he mumbles.
"What?" you ask, not hearing him.
"I'v... iss... irl..." he squeaks noiselessly.
"What? What are you saying?" you ask again.
Now, that you take a good look, his cheeks have a rosy tint on them. "I've got kissed by a girl."
"Wait, what?!" you exclaim. This is both amazing and scary. The amazing part is that - wow, your baby brother is getting it on! The scary part is that he's doing it first, and you're one and a half years older than him. Actually, he should be freshly thirteen right about now. "Really?"
"Y-yes..." he confirms.
"Pfft, it's not such a big deal," you pout, trying not to look impressed. Normally, a girl like yourself would be jealous of other girls getting action, but this is an exception. Roland is your brother. Your sisterly instincts push you to sibling rivalry with him. They push you to prove you are the alpha sibling. As such, him getting romantic interest and you not getting romantic interest is an issue for your pride, as it makes it evident he is better at something than you.
"Who's the lucky girl?"
He seems too embarrassed to say her name. Roland lays his hand on your head and turns you to face into another direction. You see a noble girl, with a pink frilly dress, blonde hair, and a huge smile plastered on her face. She looks cutesy daisy. In her hands, she is holding a fluffy, but lazy cat. You never knew this kind of girl was Roland's type.
"What did you do to earn this?"
"I helped her find her cat..." Roland's cheeks turn even redder. He becomes absent again, but this time with a smile instead of being expressionless. "She called me a hero..."
Wait a moment... you're a girl. It's not like you can't just pick someone and do it. You're the one who's supposed to allow a kiss to happen. Wait, why are you thinking about this all of the sudden? You were never interested in romance before. This is what mother was blabbing about earlier. These 'hormones' or whatever.
But why doesn't anyone seem interested, save for, maybe the prince? It's not like he has a shot anyway, so it doesn't count, but it's still a question perplexing you.
...
Hold up.
...
You look down.
...
That explains it!
[] Use a little enhancement on your assets then try flirting with someone. Let's see how many boys fall for this.
[] Do not use magical enhancers, however, still attempt flirting. You doubt you'll find the love of your life in this room, but at least you won't be the beta sibling when it comes to romance.
[] Don't succumb to teenage fantasies. (Just so you know, you can pick a specific topic to talk about.)
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
--[] Speak with Alonso specifically.
--[] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
Time: Evening
Calendar: 1006-08-25
"Right now?" he asks, laying down the goblet of wine on the floor.
"Yes, why not?"
"Hm," Sinclair ponders. After a moment, he gives you his answer. "Okay."
***
You fall on your back. "Yeowch."
Your hands are sore from absorbing all of the hits with them. Your wooden training blade falls out of your hand. Since the two of you are at a banquet, it'd speak tomes poorly about you dressing up in armor and flailing swords around at each other. Spar or not.
"You okay?" Marius gives you a hand. You stand up with his help.
"Yeah. You're powerful for an old sod."
"Powerful? Nah," Marius lays down the training blade on the table so thoughtfully provided by your benefactors. "I just have keen reflexes."
The two of you are in the garden, in a small yard from stone, with several benches and a long wooden table. The sun is slowly setting beyond the horizon, with streaks of orange and purple light streaming from beyond. All praise to the great fireball in the sky.
"Keen reflexes? You have more than that. What you have borders on precognition, sir."
"Maybe."
It's an assumption at best, but you guess that Sinclair has fought with so many duellists his mind eventually accustomed to the idea of one-on-one combat. He just reads the body language of the opponent, their facial expression, and every movement they make to predict what they do next and connect his sword at the right time. This has plenty of evidence to support it, as he has beaten you twenty-three to six. And even in the times you won, you barely managed it.
"One more?" you ask.
"I think this is enough." He seems less bitter now. It seems you cheered up the old general with a little bit of combat. In a way, that makes you pity him. He's fought so much in his life he no longer knows many pleasures other than the taste of victory, and even this kind of pleasure seems to be hollow for him.
"Thank you, general." You bow your head politely.
"No need for formalities. Outside the battlefield, we are not superior and subordinate. Outside the battlefield, we are friends."
"Thanks." The old man is cool.
Trying to sustain the conversation, you decide to breathe some life into it by starting a new topic. "You like swords, don't you?"
"I do," he replies with a proud smirk. "They are among the best armaments. Precise, flexible, and versatile. You can use them for thrusting or cutting, in some cases even deal blunt damage with them in the right circumstances. Of course, they're not as good against armored opponents, but there's nothing mithril can't fix."
You know all of that. But it's good to talk with a friend. "What about morningstars?"
"They are less versatile, but the power they offer is exceptional. I haven't met many men, in armor or not, who can survive being hit by a large, metallic club wielded by a giant. I prefer lighter weapons, but I won't shun using one if time demands it."
"Any weapon you don't like?"
"Javelins. I'm not a good thrower."
You chuckle. "Same here."
A soldier comes up to the two of you and requests the general to come with him. A colonel needs something from him.
"Alright, catch you later, kid," Marius effused. He gave you a pat on the head and followed after the guard.
You return inside after a short walk in the garden, hoping no one missed you too much. Like so, you walk around, talk with a few people, drink some wine, and try to enjoy yourself. You're not much of an extrovert, but you're just trying to fit in. Make contact with other noble children, who all seem either stoked about the fact you are a Baragar, or very envious. Regardless, they are impressed.
You are approached by Roland, whose face seems to be stuck in the past. He just stares into the blank space in front of him, expressionless.
"What happened?" you ask. Maybe he's feeling some stress after the war? It's natural, especially that both of you are still young. "Roland? Roland!" you call more loudly.
He snaps out of it and looks at you. With a low voice, he mumbles.
"What?" you ask, not hearing him.
"I'v... iss... irl..." he squeaks noiselessly.
"What? What are you saying?" you ask again.
Now, that you take a good look, his cheeks have a rosy tint on them. "I've got kissed by a girl."
"Wait, what?!" you exclaim. This is both amazing and scary. The amazing part is that - wow, your baby brother is getting it on! The scary part is that he's doing it first, and you're one and a half years older than him. Actually, he should be freshly thirteen right about now. "Really?"
"Y-yes..." he confirms.
"Pfft, it's not such a big deal," you pout, trying not to look impressed. Normally, a girl like yourself would be jealous of other girls getting action, but this is an exception. Roland is your brother. Your sisterly instincts push you to sibling rivalry with him. They push you to prove you are the alpha sibling. As such, him getting romantic interest and you not getting romantic interest is an issue for your pride, as it makes it evident he is better at something than you.
"Who's the lucky girl?"
He seems too embarrassed to say her name. Roland lays his hand on your head and turns you to face into another direction. You see a noble girl, with a pink frilly dress, blonde hair, and a huge smile plastered on her face. She looks cutesy daisy. In her hands, she is holding a fluffy, but lazy cat. You never knew this kind of girl was Roland's type.
"What did you do to earn this?"
"I helped her find her cat..." Roland's cheeks turn even redder. He becomes absent again, but this time with a smile instead of being expressionless. "She called me a hero..."
Wait a moment... you're a girl. It's not like you can't just pick someone and do it. You're the one who's supposed to allow a kiss to happen. Wait, why are you thinking about this all of the sudden? You were never interested in romance before. This is what mother was blabbing about earlier. These 'hormones' or whatever.
But why doesn't anyone seem interested, save for, maybe the prince? It's not like he has a shot anyway, so it doesn't count, but it's still a question perplexing you.
...
Hold up.
...
You look down.
...
That explains it!
[] Use a little enhancement on your assets then try flirting with someone. Let's see how many boys fall for this.
[] Do not use magical enhancers, however, still attempt flirting. You doubt you'll find the love of your life in this room, but at least you won't be the beta sibling when it comes to romance.
[] Don't succumb to teenage fantasies. (Just so you know, you can pick a specific topic to talk about.)
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
--[] Speak with Alonso specifically.
--[] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
Time: Evening
Calendar: 1006-08-25
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
-[X] Speak with Alonso.
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
Chapter 1 Part 5.
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
Chapter 1 Part 5.
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- They/Them
What else did you think she was training enhancement for? It's where all the progress has gone!
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
That said, if Artoria levels up enough, she'll probably be able to control her enhancements more, to the point of making them subjective.
-[X] Speak with Alonso.
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family
They're probably durable enough to bounce bullets off now.
It's called breastplate
-[X] Speak with Alonso.
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family
- Location
- Canada
-[X] Speak with Alonso.
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family
--[X] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family
Chapter 3: Days of Glory - Part 25: Royal Secret?...
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
You sigh. Why must nature punish you so?
You look at Roland and pat him on the shoulder. "You win... ...this time."
He looks back at you. "Win what?"
You walk past him, without answering.
You look around for Alonso. It's easy to find him in the ballroom, even despite the crowd. There's only one person as obnoxious as to flex in front of noblewomen anywhere from three, maybe seven years older than him. Seriously, this guy is the future king? You approach him.
"How are you enjoying the party?" you ask, giving cold glares to the women surrounding the prince. You fold your arms for extra effect.
He looks at you, recomposing his posture. "I'm good. Ladies... leave us."
You hear several female cries, followed by a series of disappointed footsteps.
"How can I be of aid, m'lady?" He leans back on a table casually, only to find that his elbows drag the white tablecloth down, along with some pots of wine and food. He manages to catch both plates that were about to hit the ground and balances a cup of wine on his head. Despite the fact it was his social insecurity that caused this, his body balance is stunningly impressive.
You clap, just slightly. You don't want to over-feed his ego, but not doing so would make the situation awkward.
"Hehehe," he chuckles satisfactorily. "Thank you. Thank you."
He slowly, carefully lays down the porcelain back on its place and adjusts the cloth a little, before turning back to you with a sheepish grin.
"I was wondering if you could introduce me to the family."
"H-hh-holy heavens!" Alonso panics.
"What?" you ask, befuddled.
"I didn't know we progressed."
...
...
Your cheeks turn red. You frown. "Don't get the wrong idea, idiot."
Wait.
Gods.
Did you just call the prince an idiot? Shit. This will have conseque–––
"Yeah... I am..." Did he just admit to it? He becomes gloomy and sullen as if showing a face of depression under his confident mask.
Is he really that susceptible to criticism and insult? Or maybe he's insecure? Or really self-conscious?... or maybe he just has low self-esteem.
You can get away with it. You decide to continue. You continue in a tsundere tone, to keep up the facade. "It's just that you introduced me to your father, so I was wondering what the rest of your family is like!"
"Vivian, Frederic; Artoria. Artoria, Vivian and Frederic."
"Nice to meet you," Vivian says politely with a calm, emotionless look.
"Big brother finally has a girlfriend?" Frederic mused, putting a finger up to his chin.
"I'm not his girlfriend, fiancee, future wife, or any combination of the above!" you scoff, stepping forward.
"S-sorry!" Frederic smiles.
The siblings look rather similar to each other, save for Vivian. Much like his big brother, Frederic has light brown hair. Vivian is unique in that her hair is almost grayish, ashen. Her eyes are also of a much more alive, lighter shade of color. From what you know on the Magical Theory, mutations on the metaphysical Body like this are often a side-effect of an irregularity in the Soul, which may also be present in the Mind.
In other words, Vivian is either a mage, has some kind of magical talents, or has the potential to be a mage, even if small.
"Is it true you killed Pyndwyn?" Vivian asks, her eyes raising to look at your face - she stares. She keeps on her absent, aloof aura, but shows curiosity.
"Yes, but I needed the help of Beronica; a witch, Cervitou; a black mage, and my mother."
"I don't get it," she shakes her head, still staring at you. "You were alone in the ca–ooh!––––"
"WHOOOOOP," Alonso literally runs at Vivian and bumps her away with his hips. This causes her to recoil and stop speaking. This was intended. You suspect something, but you don't know what you suspect yet. Vivian almost slipped something important. "Hey, Artoria, did I tell you how GREAT this wine is? You should try it!"
Alonso hands you a glass of wine. You take it, take a sip, and look at him with deadly serious eyes. "What was that Vivian was about to say?"
Vivian looks at Alonso, then at you. "I was about to say––––"
Alonso interrupts. "That you were alone in the courtyard! That's right!" his voice seems nervous. "Silly, silly Vivian! She didn't notice General Sinclair sparring with you!"
Frederic scratches his head in confusion.
Alonso looks at you, pointing his finger up with a happy grin and narrow eyes. "Excuse us for a moment!" He turns to Frederic. "Keep the guest entertained."
Alonso takes Vivian's hand and runs past one of the doors, to the inner parts of the castle.
Frederic shrugs, then looks at you. He's no older than eight and seems not to know how to act around women. "Wanna check out my magical bug collection?"
[] "... Sure?"
[] "No, thanks. I've had enough weirdness for one night."
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
--[] Speak with Alonso specifically.
--[] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
Time: Evening
Calendar: 1006-08-25
You look at Roland and pat him on the shoulder. "You win... ...this time."
He looks back at you. "Win what?"
You walk past him, without answering.
You look around for Alonso. It's easy to find him in the ballroom, even despite the crowd. There's only one person as obnoxious as to flex in front of noblewomen anywhere from three, maybe seven years older than him. Seriously, this guy is the future king? You approach him.
"How are you enjoying the party?" you ask, giving cold glares to the women surrounding the prince. You fold your arms for extra effect.
He looks at you, recomposing his posture. "I'm good. Ladies... leave us."
You hear several female cries, followed by a series of disappointed footsteps.
"How can I be of aid, m'lady?" He leans back on a table casually, only to find that his elbows drag the white tablecloth down, along with some pots of wine and food. He manages to catch both plates that were about to hit the ground and balances a cup of wine on his head. Despite the fact it was his social insecurity that caused this, his body balance is stunningly impressive.
You clap, just slightly. You don't want to over-feed his ego, but not doing so would make the situation awkward.
"Hehehe," he chuckles satisfactorily. "Thank you. Thank you."
He slowly, carefully lays down the porcelain back on its place and adjusts the cloth a little, before turning back to you with a sheepish grin.
"I was wondering if you could introduce me to the family."
"H-hh-holy heavens!" Alonso panics.
"What?" you ask, befuddled.
"I didn't know we progressed."
...
...
Your cheeks turn red. You frown. "Don't get the wrong idea, idiot."
Wait.
Gods.
Did you just call the prince an idiot? Shit. This will have conseque–––
"Yeah... I am..." Did he just admit to it? He becomes gloomy and sullen as if showing a face of depression under his confident mask.
Is he really that susceptible to criticism and insult? Or maybe he's insecure? Or really self-conscious?... or maybe he just has low self-esteem.
You can get away with it. You decide to continue. You continue in a tsundere tone, to keep up the facade. "It's just that you introduced me to your father, so I was wondering what the rest of your family is like!"
***
"Vivian, Frederic; Artoria. Artoria, Vivian and Frederic."
"Nice to meet you," Vivian says politely with a calm, emotionless look.
"Big brother finally has a girlfriend?" Frederic mused, putting a finger up to his chin.
"I'm not his girlfriend, fiancee, future wife, or any combination of the above!" you scoff, stepping forward.
"S-sorry!" Frederic smiles.
The siblings look rather similar to each other, save for Vivian. Much like his big brother, Frederic has light brown hair. Vivian is unique in that her hair is almost grayish, ashen. Her eyes are also of a much more alive, lighter shade of color. From what you know on the Magical Theory, mutations on the metaphysical Body like this are often a side-effect of an irregularity in the Soul, which may also be present in the Mind.
In other words, Vivian is either a mage, has some kind of magical talents, or has the potential to be a mage, even if small.
"Is it true you killed Pyndwyn?" Vivian asks, her eyes raising to look at your face - she stares. She keeps on her absent, aloof aura, but shows curiosity.
"Yes, but I needed the help of Beronica; a witch, Cervitou; a black mage, and my mother."
"I don't get it," she shakes her head, still staring at you. "You were alone in the ca–ooh!––––"
"WHOOOOOP," Alonso literally runs at Vivian and bumps her away with his hips. This causes her to recoil and stop speaking. This was intended. You suspect something, but you don't know what you suspect yet. Vivian almost slipped something important. "Hey, Artoria, did I tell you how GREAT this wine is? You should try it!"
Alonso hands you a glass of wine. You take it, take a sip, and look at him with deadly serious eyes. "What was that Vivian was about to say?"
Vivian looks at Alonso, then at you. "I was about to say––––"
Alonso interrupts. "That you were alone in the courtyard! That's right!" his voice seems nervous. "Silly, silly Vivian! She didn't notice General Sinclair sparring with you!"
Frederic scratches his head in confusion.
Alonso looks at you, pointing his finger up with a happy grin and narrow eyes. "Excuse us for a moment!" He turns to Frederic. "Keep the guest entertained."
Alonso takes Vivian's hand and runs past one of the doors, to the inner parts of the castle.
Frederic shrugs, then looks at you. He's no older than eight and seems not to know how to act around women. "Wanna check out my magical bug collection?"
[] "... Sure?"
[] "No, thanks. I've had enough weirdness for one night."
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
--[] Speak with Alonso specifically.
--[] Ask him if he can introduce you to the rest of the family.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
Time: Evening
Calendar: 1006-08-25
Last edited:
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
You figured it out quickly. Congratulations.
What can I say? Not all people are perfect, not the prince, nor Cervitou, nor anyone else.
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Aw, was kinda hoping I was wrong. He came across as a douche, then sorta endearing but he's swung right around to douche again. Hopefully we can just befriend the rest of his family instead. Also have to wonder how long Vivian's been watching us or if it was just because we were in danger or something...
- Location
- St. Petersburg
Missed the vote, otherwise I'd try to stuff Ria on a tree and demand the prince to save her right that instant.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
You can still do that. The party has only begun. With the end of the Ball, the Chapter will end as well.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
I'll be honest with you. He's not as much a douche, as he is a complete loser. It goes to the point where he thinks it must have been a mistake by the Gods that he was born into the royal family of Albion, as the prince no less. That's why he has such low self-esteem, insecurity problems, self-image issues, so much susceptibility to criticism and insults, and crippling depression.
I'm telling you this because it's already very easy to read. He puts on the mask of a confident 'jock' but underneath he's a pile of absolute messy trash jury-rigged together with duct tape and kept together only by his wavering sense of self.
Chapter 3: days of Glory - Part 26: Cheeky Bastard
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
"... Sure?"
"Yay!" Frederic takes your hand and rushes you upstairs.
"This is a Flame Snail."
You look at the glass box. Inside of it is a small snail, with a crimson shell. Its slime is red and warm, even through the glass. "When threatened, this species of slimes can use fire spells. Isn't that cool?"
The two of you are in the young royal child's bedroom, supervised only by guards outside. The two of you are on the carpet, on your knees. Frederic is handing you different, transparent boxes full of magical animals. So far, you've seen a lizard that turns invisible, a snake that hypnotizes people with a gaze (for obvious reasons, the glass was coated with anti-magic,) a frog that can craft primitive magical items when given the materials, and the fire snail.
"Yeah. It's cool," you answer, rolling your eyes. "Hey, any idea what Vivian was about to say?"
Frederic smiles. "Oh, um, yeah! She was about to say you were alone in the cave, I think."
"How does she know that?" you turn to Frederic.
"I dunno, she's psychic or somethin' I guess," he babbles, then shrugs.
"Really? And why did Alonso want to conceal that so much?"
"He has a crush on you. When he came along with you, I thought–––"
"You thought wrong," you interrupt.
"Anyway, a few years ago, you were apparently here with your mom. She was here to speak with my dad about something."
Oh. Right. It's true. There's been a dragon back then that ruined the farmlands. Not Pyndwyn - just a different, lesser, random dragon. But it became a huge problem for the capital, because what it did translated to a rise in food prices and a lot of peasants losing their houses and jobs. So you stopped the dragon at the king's behest. Or rather, your mother did. You just stood at a safe distance, yelling warm encouragement at her.
"So... Alonso saw you. And he asked Vivian 'who's that girl,' and..."
"And what?"
"He fell heels-over-whatever-it-was for you," Frederic states. He chuckles.
"So... lemme get this straight. The prince of Albion is in love... and his object of affection is me?"
"Yuuup."
That's kind of charming, actually.
"Of course, he gave up when Vivian told him what you do for a living. Believe it or not, but when he heard you'll be at the banquet, he - no joke - stared at the mirror in his room for an hour straight, talking to himself."
"Talking to himself?"
"He gave himself advice and encouragement. Just to muster up enough courage to talk to you."
"He didn't seem very afraid."
"That's because his self-conversation failed," Frederic chuckles, like as if he was saying 'here's the best part.' He looks at you, then smirks. "He asked a mage to cast a spell on him to give himself immunity to the emotion of fear. Straight up removed it from his mind. When it wore off, he came to us, literally crying and panicking, saying you hate his guts. He mentioned he made too many horrible mistakes, especially something about lying he can fight with a sword."
That cheeky bastard.
"And saying he'd be embarrassed to fight with a woman."
"That cheeky bastard!" you slip, standing up in rage and clenching your fists. Frederic stares then blinks twice. Soon enough, you realize you are still in the presence of royalty. You sit down, clear your throat, recompose yourself and adjust your breathing, then say, "continue."
"So, ever since then, Vivian has been telling him about the more exciting of your adventures."
That means she's a scryer and diviner. Maybe even a prophet? A prophet in the royal family is kind of amazingly rare, but not weird all things considered. The previous king - the one before King Advan, was pretty much an archmage. One would figure that the children would inherit something from their grandfather.
"I see. So he's madly in love with me, basically?"
"Yeah, basically," Frederic affirms, nodding with a friendly smile.
"But he's too much of a loser to say it out loud?"
"Mhm!" Frederic nods again.
What are you going to do?
[] Get Ria here, then make it so that she's stuck on a tree. Tell Frederic to call Alonso down to the garden, then act helpless and ask the prince to 'save your pet' like a damsel in distress. Put him to the test like they did in old mythology, to see what's stronger inside of him; his love, or his fear?
[] Screw Alonso; not literally, though. Go back to the Ballroom.
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
-[] Speak with Vivian.
-[] Speak with Frederic.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
QM's Note: Two social interactions left until story progression.
"Yay!" Frederic takes your hand and rushes you upstairs.
***
"This is a Flame Snail."
You look at the glass box. Inside of it is a small snail, with a crimson shell. Its slime is red and warm, even through the glass. "When threatened, this species of slimes can use fire spells. Isn't that cool?"
The two of you are in the young royal child's bedroom, supervised only by guards outside. The two of you are on the carpet, on your knees. Frederic is handing you different, transparent boxes full of magical animals. So far, you've seen a lizard that turns invisible, a snake that hypnotizes people with a gaze (for obvious reasons, the glass was coated with anti-magic,) a frog that can craft primitive magical items when given the materials, and the fire snail.
"Yeah. It's cool," you answer, rolling your eyes. "Hey, any idea what Vivian was about to say?"
Frederic smiles. "Oh, um, yeah! She was about to say you were alone in the cave, I think."
"How does she know that?" you turn to Frederic.
"I dunno, she's psychic or somethin' I guess," he babbles, then shrugs.
"Really? And why did Alonso want to conceal that so much?"
"He has a crush on you. When he came along with you, I thought–––"
"You thought wrong," you interrupt.
"Anyway, a few years ago, you were apparently here with your mom. She was here to speak with my dad about something."
Oh. Right. It's true. There's been a dragon back then that ruined the farmlands. Not Pyndwyn - just a different, lesser, random dragon. But it became a huge problem for the capital, because what it did translated to a rise in food prices and a lot of peasants losing their houses and jobs. So you stopped the dragon at the king's behest. Or rather, your mother did. You just stood at a safe distance, yelling warm encouragement at her.
"So... Alonso saw you. And he asked Vivian 'who's that girl,' and..."
"And what?"
"He fell heels-over-whatever-it-was for you," Frederic states. He chuckles.
"So... lemme get this straight. The prince of Albion is in love... and his object of affection is me?"
"Yuuup."
That's kind of charming, actually.
"Of course, he gave up when Vivian told him what you do for a living. Believe it or not, but when he heard you'll be at the banquet, he - no joke - stared at the mirror in his room for an hour straight, talking to himself."
"Talking to himself?"
"He gave himself advice and encouragement. Just to muster up enough courage to talk to you."
"He didn't seem very afraid."
"That's because his self-conversation failed," Frederic chuckles, like as if he was saying 'here's the best part.' He looks at you, then smirks. "He asked a mage to cast a spell on him to give himself immunity to the emotion of fear. Straight up removed it from his mind. When it wore off, he came to us, literally crying and panicking, saying you hate his guts. He mentioned he made too many horrible mistakes, especially something about lying he can fight with a sword."
That cheeky bastard.
"And saying he'd be embarrassed to fight with a woman."
"That cheeky bastard!" you slip, standing up in rage and clenching your fists. Frederic stares then blinks twice. Soon enough, you realize you are still in the presence of royalty. You sit down, clear your throat, recompose yourself and adjust your breathing, then say, "continue."
"So, ever since then, Vivian has been telling him about the more exciting of your adventures."
That means she's a scryer and diviner. Maybe even a prophet? A prophet in the royal family is kind of amazingly rare, but not weird all things considered. The previous king - the one before King Advan, was pretty much an archmage. One would figure that the children would inherit something from their grandfather.
"I see. So he's madly in love with me, basically?"
"Yeah, basically," Frederic affirms, nodding with a friendly smile.
"But he's too much of a loser to say it out loud?"
"Mhm!" Frederic nods again.
What are you going to do?
[] Get Ria here, then make it so that she's stuck on a tree. Tell Frederic to call Alonso down to the garden, then act helpless and ask the prince to 'save your pet' like a damsel in distress. Put him to the test like they did in old mythology, to see what's stronger inside of him; his love, or his fear?
[] Screw Alonso; not literally, though. Go back to the Ballroom.
-[] Speak with Leona.
-[] Speak with Roderick.
-[] Speak with Roland.
-[] Speak with Aegis again.
-[] Speak with the king, once he's no longer busy.
-[] Speak with Alonso.
-[] Speak with Vivian.
-[] Speak with Frederic.
-[] Write-in.
[] Write-in.
QM's Note: Two social interactions left until story progression.
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Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
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When I put my mind to it, he's similar to Jaune from RWBY, except Jaune can actually, like, y'know; form decent strategies, cheer people up, block attacks with a shield, and even more. All that Alonso can do is ask for help or shiver in fear. Of course, I'm exaggerating, but you know what I mean by that.
It's kind of a reversal of the roles. Where normally it's the strong, dominant knight saving the princess, here's the strong, dominant woman saving the hopeless prince.
Bird Corp™
"Because we like our tropes in reverse."