This bit didn't make much sense: "maybe Magenta isn't an evil deceiver and just want to use a method where more people die and is also a condescending imperialist"
The thesis aimed one way and then the listed evidence aimed the opposite
Aside from the typos inverting the evidence - the evil Empire they're currently fighting is nakedly, cartoonishly evil (literally, given the cartoon tropes this world runs on).
Magenta, however, would be the type of imperialist who actually believes that the genocide she wants to inflict is just a distasteful but necessary reality of what is still an ultimately benevolent intervention for the sake of the locals, and that the ignorant natives of this world should be thankful for it.
When the truth would've been revealed, she wouldn't cackle in glee like a cartoon villain and exult in her deception - she'd sigh and condescendingly explain why all this is For The Best, Actually. Her evil is so banal that she doesn't consider herself a deceiver or villain in the slightest.
thanks for making edits Alivaril! if the new version's in line with what you were originally intending that'd probably be way less confusing for new people
I suspect there may be some narrative causality going on. They can't curse, the magical girls have plot armor, the villains are hammy, bumbling and goofy. It's possible that Sunflower was right and there isn't anybody funding the rebellion, and Magentism just has money because she needs to have money for the plot to go forward.
this last bit would be a little odd if Megnetism's had her assets seized and nothing made sense, but it could also be the magical "resources from thin air" shenanigans throwing incompetent investigators off now i think about it
well, they only mentioned that in regards to this specific occurence so others aren't *too* relevant
(though one possibility is it could be a passive effect of their magic? maybe some of them are swear-adverse and are suppressing it without even realising lol)
if there's anything the magical girl genre and its subversions has taught me, it's that proper branding is *essential*
Violetnce is already the edgy orphan sixth ranger who was originally with antagonists, it'd be terrible for their popularity if she clashed with their existing setup. this might seem like no big deal, but imagine if someone who's lost all their teammates and even gotten a powerup from the event wanted to join your magical girl team, they'd make things absolutely awkward for everyone else.
Magenta might also view potential casualties from abrupt curse ending as a mixed blessing since it'll soften the continent up for invasion and reduce the chance of casualties in the invading force.
if she wants them dead/weak it's a win-win to strip them of adaptations both removing an asset and causing them danger, though that's definitely not an argument in her favour for crimson to say
...I wonder why Magenta would've told them about a Violet at all? Maybe she only expects it to come up after they 'win.'
Aside from the typos inverting the evidence - the evil Empire they're currently fighting is nakedly, cartoonishly evil (literally, given the cartoon tropes this world runs on).
Magenta, however, would be the type of imperialist who actually believes that the genocide she wants to inflict is just a distasteful but necessary reality of what is still an ultimately benevolent intervention for the sake of the locals, and that the ignorant natives of this world should be thankful for it.
When the truth would've been revealed, she wouldn't cackle in glee like a cartoon villain and exult in her deception - she'd sigh and condescendingly explain why all this is For The Best, Actually. Her evil is so banal that she doesn't consider herself a deceiver or villain in the slightest.
first off, i could totally see that being Magenta's archetype so good prediction there :)
second, do we know Magenta brought a Violet up in the first place? could just be something the Rainbow team figured out on their own by remembering what the Colours of a rainbow are/Violentce acting enough like a protagonist :P
I don't think she did. The mid battle detailing of motivations and concluding that Violence-to-Violet wouldn't be the most tortured color word among them meant they realized that they weren't a group of seven magical girls. They were six magical girls and a mentor, and Versatile Violence is the seventh.
this last bit would be a little odd if Megnetism's had her assets seized and nothing made sense, but it could also be the magical "resources from thin air" shenanigans throwing incompetent investigators off now i think about it
I definitely don't think it's likely. The forces of narrative causality seem to prefer the plausible, such as a prank from a friend or a highly place subordinate with an aversion to foul language. But the broader notion of narrative causality potentially being a force acting on an even higher level than Magentism is concerningly plausible.
A thought: Did Versatile Violence -> Violet actually get confirmed anywhere in those two chapters? Because if so I missed it.
Cuz yeah, the first morally complicated 'villain' having a name that easily puns into a rainbow magical girl name does make for an easy assumption - but if an assumption is all it is then the magical girls could still be wrong about that, and that would be kind of hilarious.
No one? I'll say it then:
Magenta is part of the CMYK subtractive color formula, for pigmentation and painting and printing. As Dark Souls and Elden Ring have taught us, this is fundamentally a Dark-based paradigm to creating color, as a directly complementing mirror to the additive-color formula of the Light-based paradigm.
I fully expect to see C(omething) Cyan* and Y(omething)* Yellow* to spring up out of the woodwork as fellow servants of K(omething) Key*, Avatar to the Gateway of the Primordial Black*.
A thought: Did Versatile Violence -> Violet actually get confirmed anywhere in those two chapters? Because if so I missed it.
Cuz yeah, the first morally complicated 'villain' having a name that easily puns into a rainbow magical girl name does make for an easy assumption - but if an assumption is all it is then the magical girls could still be wrong about that, and that would be kind of hilarious.
I mean Violence isn't the first villain they encountered. Topaz was thinking about the other alliterative named villains they'd fought. Sure Violence definitely has the best reason for fighting them we've heard so far, but that doesn't mean there aren't others who've fought them for good reasons as well.
Besides in the fight they were trying to turn Violence to their side, so something that seems to fit their genre makes them feel more confident in their assumptions.
Aside from the typos inverting the evidence - the evil Empire they're currently fighting is nakedly, cartoonishly evil (literally, given the cartoon tropes this world runs on).
I suppose they could be mistaken on if versatile violence is supposed to be in their 'group'...however, if they succeed in recruiting versatile violence through the power of friendship, I sincerely doubt anyone could argue they're wrong at that point. They'd be an magical girl regardless of whatever nebulous destiny/fate has to say about it.
Also, versatile violence was envious of their dresses, so, another point in the 'probably meant to be a magical girl' box.
The rest of the Umbral Servants also pose and monologue.
I say the reason for her own hesitancy to pose and monologue has to do with having 2 seperate instincts conflicting, a Umbral instinct of "mwahahaha you fools" monologue/pose is being interfered with by a Magical Girl instinct of "for the love of my friends" monologue/pose, which results in a very conflicted×hyper-self-aware head-space.
The rest of the Umbral Servants also pose and monologue.
I say the reason for her own hesitancy to pose and monologue has to do with having 2 seperate instincts conflicting, a Umbral instinct of "mwahahaha you fools" monologue/pose is being interfered with by a Magical Girl instinct of "for the love of my friends" monologue/pose, which results in a very conflicted×hyper-self-aware head-space.
The rest of her platoon attacked from stealth. Not great evidence that they do in general pose and monologue. The previous Imperial Captains might have, but V focuses on them rushing after retreating opponents and getting themselves killed, and doesn't bring it up.
The rest of the Umbral Servants also pose and monologue.
I say the reason for her own hesitancy to pose and monologue has to do with having 2 seperate instincts conflicting, a Umbral instinct of "mwahahaha you fools" monologue/pose is being interfered with by a Magical Girl instinct of "for the love of my friends" monologue/pose, which results in a very conflicted×hyper-self-aware head-space.
Hm. Thinking back on chapter 2, i noticed that nobody ever called on Topaz to speak. Oh sure, no-ones omniscient, chances are they might not even have noticed that she was uncomfortable or confused, but thinking back on it i noticed that they never asked anyone else for their opinion. People simply kept chiming in and moving the conversation along. A perfectly normal way to hold a conversation, but we saw in the chapter how often Topaz simply did not say things that could have been important to the conversation. Who's to say the other Rainbows didn't do the same?
Hardly further proof that they're evil or something, but further proof that they are teenagers who aren't used to including others and making sure people are heard. They're a team that can prevail against any odds! ...But there are cracks in that foundation, and the most obvious one is Topaz's different background. I mean, did she even know what a magical girl was before she got dragged into this? She's clearly very sheltered compared to the rest and she seems very keen to not have others dwell on that. Sure, they probably know, but it seems she wants to be a member more than she wants to be an individual so to speak.
Hm. Thinking back on chapter 2, i noticed that nobody ever called on Topaz to speak. Oh sure, no-ones omniscient, chances are they might not even have noticed that she was uncomfortable or confused, but thinking back on it i noticed that they never asked anyone else for their opinion. People simply kept chiming in and moving the conversation along. A perfectly normal way to hold a conversation, but we saw in the chapter how often Topaz simply did not say things that could have been important to the conversation. Who's to say the other Rainbows didn't do the same?
Hardly further proof that they're evil or something, but further proof that they are teenagers who aren't used to including others and making sure people are heard. They're a team that can prevail against any odds! ...But there are cracks in that foundation, and the most obvious one is Topaz's different background. I mean, did she even know what a magical girl was before she got dragged into this? She's clearly very sheltered compared to the rest and she seems very keen to not have others dwell on that. Sure, they probably know, but it seems she wants to be a member more than she wants to be an individual so to speak.
In my experience, if you keep asking people who aren't saying anything about what they think, you don't often get useful input. Mostly it's just some variant of "I agree with what you said". And it can be intensely uncomfortable too. Frankly, there's no really good option except time for her to grow into the willingness to speak. She knows she can, she just doesn't believe it.
This is also true, of course. It's a skill like any other. But i think what i was trying to get to is that... well, the Rainbows aren't asking eachother questions. A part of that is probably just a lack of characterisation, but part of it is also that they're not expecting eachother to know something they don't. Have a different perspective, sure, but not differing knowledge. They never say 'You worked the most with the orphans, did they say anything?'.
I feel like you can infer a bit about how Magentism leads from this chapter and on reflection i don't think she asks very many questions either.
AN: Probably the last chapter before this gets its own thread, although I might first acquire a 1-chapter backlog just to be sure. I could've chopped this chapter in half, but I think it works better as one big chunk.
If there was one benefit to being an Umbral Elite Captain, it was the housing arrangements. Typically, only nobility were granted the position; I'd only been promoted so far by virtue of being one of the last officers living and loyal. Regulations had long since been adjusted accordingly: I often ended up sleeping undisturbed in a noble's guest rooms, one or two guards resting nearby, while the bulk of my subordinates had to stay at inns, tents, barracks, or in structures forfeited to the throne when their former owners were found guilty of treason.
(And those would stay the options. Even if the law allowed it, common citizens already possessed too little for us to demand quartering as well.)
I sighed and burrowed deeper into the unreasonably plush blankets, squishy mattress, and poofy pillows of my current bed. The Rainbow revolution wouldn't be half as wearying if my sleeping arrangements were always this unreasonably lavish. Alas, even an officer commission wasn't able to conjure a noble's bedding while we were on the road.
…Or, well. Plenty of my predecessors had forced their subordinates to carry oversized palanquins on the march. The one time I'd been ordered to carry one by Umbral Captain Callous Countess, Joy had been so thoroughly incandescent with rage that the world around us had noticeably brightened. Fortunately for everyone, the Callous Countess took the oddly bright world as a sign that the Rainbows were nearer than reported and was reluctant to risk her precious bedding. When no foes manifested by nightfall, Callous Countess had not been pleased, but her petty tantrum and demands were preferable to having Joy finally snap and abandon all restraint.
I might feel guilty about not sharing the same sleeping arrangements as my troops, but Joy had — I couldn't say 'put her foot down,' because we still weren't sure she actually had any, but the sentiment stood. She'd decreed that I was not to refuse what 'few' luxuries the Empire deigned to grant me, and had threatened to start chewing on chainmail if I refused.
Really, Joy was a terrible influence in general. As far as she was concerned, I was meant to be the Crown Princess; no matter what luxuries or privileges I was granted, they would still be lesser than what she thought I 'deserved.'
'Because they are,' Joy complained. 'You should be able to wear whatever you want, whenever you want, and eat to your heart's content. You shouldn't need to work, or toil, or worry, or fight. You're mine, and it's infuriating that you should have to hide that; the Shaded Empire was founded specifically to serve avatars.'
It was an old argument between us, but one that had long since exhausted all possibility of venom. Joy hadn't started with any inherent respect for mortal lives, and initially only cared about me; she'd refrained from risking massive collateral damage and loss of life because I'd asked her not to. In the years that we'd grown up together, seeing other mortals suffer alongside me did help her — or perhaps both of us — develop a sense of empathy, although she was still quick to condemn those who displeased her.
A ponderous, heavy knock at the door signaled the conclusion of my break, and I grumbled under my breath. I was much too comfortable for this nonsense, and although I'd had trouble learning to rise with the Sun instead of the stars, I thought I'd had a pretty good grasp on the Sun's timing by now. It shouldn't be up just yet.
Still, Gray wouldn't bother me if it wasn't important, so I reluctantly started pushing away enveloping blankets that almost seemed to fight against my efforts. 'Come back to sleep,' they seemed to beg. 'Whatever that is, it can wait a few more hours. Gray is better at organization anyway.'
Unfortunately for those silken sirens, officers in my position tended to be quite good at ignoring begging. I slid out of bed and staggered toward the door, rubbing fatigue from my eyes and hoping that Gray carried good news for once.
'I would offer to eat the messenger if this was for something frivolous, but Gray isn't bad enough for that,' Joy halfheartedly complained.
As expected, Gray stood on the other side of the door, his usual smile replaced with apparent indifference. That was never a good sign. Even more ominous was how his gaze remained firmly fixed on my face despite how I remained in nightclothes. When Gray was in a good mood and relaxed, his gaze would usually drift at least a little before he caught himself.
"Captain," Gray said, saluting and offering me an unfortunately familiar black envelope.
Traitor-Problem, signaled a shadow hidden by the high collar of his uniform.
I grimaced and took the missive from the Crown. Both a visual inspection and umbral pulse confirmed that the purple seal was genuine. I reluctantly formed a letter knife from the shadow cast by my middle finger, broke the seal, and withdrew the umbra-saturated parchment within. As always, the relative lack of contrast between purple ink and black parchment would have made reading my orders an exercise in frustration if I didn't first enhance my eyes with a trickle of umbra.
To Umbral Elite Captain Versatile Violence of the First Umbral Platoon, Knight of Nacht by virtue of academic excellence, known at birth as the orphan Eskarne:
By the grace of Her Imperial Majesty, Dark Empress Adalgund II, Ruler of the Endless Night, Defender of the Shaded Realm, Bulwark of the Ancient Curtain of Nacht, etc.,
You are hereby ordered to report to the Shaded Palace as quickly as troop movements permit. Further instructions will be provided upon your arrival in the Spired City.
'The letter wasn't written recently,' Joy murmured, and my forehead further furrowed.
Past turnaround times on recalls made me suspect that the Shaded Palace had the Dark Empress's most infamous spies, Wraiths, planted either in the platoon itself or as part of our support staff. I'd hoped to never receive confirmation of pre-written orders, though, and I couldn't understand the underlying reasoning. We'd succeeded yesterday. Unless the problem was that the platoon had killed Magentism under Gray's command, while we'd only repelled the Rainbows under my own? Surely it couldn't be that; we'd succeeded in our objective of protecting the umbralla for the time being.
If we were very, very lucky, the Crown would finally open the Royal Vaults of Nacht and grant me the use of at least one of those masterpieces. In particular, I thought that the rod of Dark Empress Hafdís II, if released to me, might finally let me prevail against the Rainbows. Changing my weapon's form tended to consume the bulk of my umbra in any given fight, to say nothing of how I remained constrained by the shape of real weapons. Minimizing that consumption would open a whole new world of options for letting me properly close the distance and harry my foes.
I really doubted that was the plan, though. I'd long subscribed to the belief that the contents of the Royal Vaults had long since broken. Seals were supposed to perfectly preserve the contents of the vaults, but how likely was it that someone over the centuries had decided to embezzle funds from enchantments that nobody in their lifetime would require or check?
Even on the off chance that I would be praised for doing the best of anyone fighting the Rainbows to date, my absence from the front would still pose problems. Gray possessed the supernatural sturdiness typical of all gargoyles, and he could fly for short stints of time. That didn't change the fact that mobility was necessary to counter them; any mortal attempting a contest of power would lose. For nacht's sake, the Rainbows had somehow managed to overpower the Abyssal Drake, and that infamous behemoth had been known for scouring inconvenient towns clean in one bladed breath.
Lieutenant Gray continued the unblinking, breathless vigil of a nervous gargoyle. I pinched the bridge of my nose with one hand, still holding my problematic summons with the other.
"At ease," I sighed. "I'm guessing that you already received and read your own orders?"
Gray grimaced and nodded, relaxing from his stiff salute.
"I've been ordered to assume control of the Elites in your absence," Gray confirmed. "Listen, Captain—you're far from the most imposing combatant, but we all know that the situation would, will become, much worse without you harrying the Rainbows at every turn."
Gray bit his own lip to the unpleasant grating of grinding stone. It still amazed me that biting himself wasn't actually painful for him; it certainly sounded awful enough. After several seconds of hesitation, he slowly reached inside his coat and produced a leather pouch dyed the same shade of gray as his own skin.
I started to tilt my head quizzically; I didn't see how giving or requesting a bribe from me would help matters right now. Before I could even finish the motion, however, he thrust the pouch toward me with one shaking arm.
"Take it, please," he hissed through gritted teeth.
I hurriedly accepted the pouch from his hands, trusting that it wasn't some manner of cursed object, and found my arm plummeting in the moment before I properly compensated for its unexpectedly heavy weight. The conspicuous, cloth-muffled jingling of coins sounded through the empty hall.
My brain promptly tried to figure out just how much gold might be inside the pouch Gray handed me, and came up woefully short. More than everything I'd earned prior to becoming an Umbral Captain, I was sure. Possibly less than the unreasonable sums I would have earned since my promotion if the bureaucracy wasn't being difficult about releasing such large sums to a commoner; they kept claiming that I would need to provide written, signed, and sealed permission from the head of my noble house in order to access my own moon-damned accounts. At this point, I was fairly certain that someone out there was hoping I'd die and they could abscond with everything.
Lieutenant Gray Onyx wasn't a noble himself, but members of his clan were embedded as assistants to a significant portion of the aristocracy. Gray previously assured me that their influence was highly limited, and that it was merely traditional to lavishly award assistants who loyally protected one from assassins even when it was not their official job to do so. Considering how slow Gray's handwriting was, and how most gargoyles were similarly sluggish, I could read between the lines: the Onyx clan made quite a bit of money by being unofficial bodyguards to the rich and powerful.
'I bet they'd be happy to keep an avatar safe,' Joy muttered.
Which would be nice if we could afford them, but as we cannot, the point is moot.
At any rate, I doubted Gray had ever received any such rewards himself. Acquiring so much money would require him to stick his neck out and convince his clan that I was worth a rather sizable investment. From what I understood of families, this could get him killed if he guessed wrong.
"While I would never presume to speak for Her Dark Majesty," Gray said carefully, "the Crown—usually elects to let the subjects of summons cool their heels for several weeks after their arrival in the Capital. That should be enough time for you to commission suitable court attire. It would not do for our Captain to be seen as anything other than properly respectful of both our beloved Dark Empress and venerable members of the Shaded Court of Dusk."
I found my eyes repeatedly flicking between Gray and his gift. He wasn't smiling, wasn't bothering to try to reassure me. He was risking himself for a chance that his aid might help me survive the Imperial Court. Perhaps he assumed that he'd be brainwashed via 'purification' after my departure, but I'd never known him to be that pessimistic; he'd seek to ensure his own survival until the very end.
Honestly. What kind of a coward would I have to be, to ignore such loyalty? What kind of friend would let Gray's leap of faith end with him shattered on the ground?
Joy, you said that the letter wasn't new. How well can you sense it, exactly?
'Between all the alchemical tweaks and being flooded with umbra, I think it's pretty distinctive?'
Joy paused and followed my trail of thought.
'Oh, I like this plan,' Joy purred. 'I really like this plan.'
"You know," I said aloud. "Just yesterday, Studious Sunflower went and called me the second-greatest obstacle to their ultimate victory, second only to the Empress. Before that, Adorable Aquamarine said I was harder to deal with than the Abyssal Drake. With all due respect to our excellent Platoon, I'm inclined to believe the Rainbows' analysis and that the front would collapse quite quickly in my absence."
Gray winced and glanced away.
"Orders are orders, Captain," he said uncomfortably.
"If legitimate," I agreed, and let the inconvenient evidence fall from my hands.
Go ahead.
Giddy cackling echoed through my head, and the world around us suddenly seemed both darker and smaller. The umbra-infused missive and envelope did not so much disappear as disintegrate over the course of a scant second, parchment and umbra both seeming to tear themselves to increasingly minuscule shreds before vanishing from three-dimensional existence altogether. The odd feeling of being too large for my skin disappeared alongside them, but light was slow to return and reality continued to tremble.
Poor thing. The world didn't have to be so scared; Joy wouldn't hurt it. Much, or often.
"C-Captain," Gray stuttered, wide eyes staring in horror at the patch of still-settling space where an imperial missive had once been. "What in the abyss have you done?"
I clapped Gray on the shoulder and gave him the bright smile of one who should be thoroughly doomed, but knew that the abyss was both on her side and the best partner I could ever ask for. My palm didn't even sting from slapping solid stone, and that, too, was Joy's doing.
'Aww, I love you, too!'
Really, I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this relentlessly happy. We'd just committed high treason, and I felt quite confident that we would get away with it. It was, after all, entirely plausible that embezzlement of alchemical supplies had resulted in parchment that would dissolve after being fed too much umbra rather than releasing the excess like it was supposed to. I didn't even have to feel guilty about possibly dooming whoever was in charge of that process! It was managed by the Duchess of Stolen Solstices, and she was a horrible person!
"Me? I did nothing," I said cheerfully, pushing the gifted bag of gold back into his unresisting hands. "The only magical acts I performed were to test the alleged summons with umbra, as per protocol. Oh, and to enhance my eyes with umbra, for ease of reading and detection of possible forgeries, of course. That the letter dissolved soon afterward is, I think, indicative of a convincing forgery, but one that nonetheless did not pass muster. The forgery was quite old, too; they've clearly been waiting for quite a while."
Gray unconsciously licked his lips even though I was ninety percent sure he didn't produce any saliva to speak of.
"T-They'll–" Gray stuttered, rattled. "Standard procedure is for missives to be filed in triplicate! There are still copies!"
"'Not anymore,'" Joy and I said in sync, and it was so.
Gray squeaked like his stone skin had been slathered in soap, staring at Us with wide eyes. We, on the other hand, belatedly realized that Our voice hadn't been solely inside Our head that time. We should probably be worried about that, in all honesty, but We didn't expect Gray to betray Us and any other eavesdroppers wouldn't be reporting back any time soon.
We hesitated, and after a moment of thought, belatedly remembered that We were supposed to be myself and I. Thought became action, and I blinked back to awareness. Gray continued to stare fixedly at a point above my head, a nervous gulp the only visible motion across his entire body. Glancing up didn't reveal anything above me, so I mentally shrugged and dismissed it as an attempt to avoid eye contact without risking accusations of ogling.
"Sorry," I brazenly lied, reestablishing eye contact. "Had to use umbra to soothe a dry throat. At any rate, I should recommend double-checking your own alleged orders—oh, good."
I hadn't even finished my sentence before Gray was reaching inside his own coat and, apparently, failing to find whatever orders had once existed there. He didn't even bother with a thorough search of all pockets before withdrawing his hand, face stony.
The gargoyle closed his eyes and appeared to take a long, deep breath despite how he needed no air, and indeed, had no heartbeat to speak of. By the time he opened his eyes again, much of his usual good mood seemed to have been restored. I thought it more likely that he was largely pretending. I wouldn't be so rude as to point it out; masks were an essential survival skill for those in the Shaded Empire.
"I suppose," Gray said dryly, only the slightest lingering tremble in his voice, "that the next item of business is to find the traitor who dared to forge orders from Her Dark Majesty?"
"Oh, I wouldn't bother," I dismissed. "I'm sure that if there's a real Wraith who happens to have legitimate orders for us, they'll be sure to make their opinions known in short order. In the meantime, I do believe that I should go get changed."
I unceremoniously shut the door in Gray's face and spun to put word to deed.
As an Umbral Elite Captain, it was expected that I would break my fast with the Baroness of Little Shade. Once the 1st Umbral Elite were garrisoned in Little Shade, she'd even switched from a sensible nocturnal schedule to a diurnal one solely so that she could harass me.
After going through and destroying official orders from the Shaded Palace, though, I was in far too good of a mood to let the Baroness' whinging and sniping ruin it. I strode away from the doors of her manor with a simple murkey sandwich hastily assembled by the kitchen staff. However, actually eating the waxpaper-wrapped package's contents could wait until I'd reached the military mess hall. I somehow suspected that I wouldn't be allowed to finish, and I would hate to let flies steal my meal while I was busy.
A heavy thud heralded Gray landing beside me, the gargoyle seamlessly transitioning from flight to loping along on both clawed feet and one arm. His spare arm held a bag that I knew from experience would be filled with a variety of stone chunks, or powder if he was eating in a hurry.
"Captain!" a thin, reedy voice called from behind us.
Speak of the Archon and they shall come.
My refusal to slow down forced Quartermaster Edmund to hurry and match our pace, huffing and puffing from the exertion. It truly was obvious that he usually rode with the supplies rather than marching alongside us. Really, imagine someone in the imperial army managing to put on bulk during a campaign. He didn't even have the resources of a viscount to rely on; he'd long since been disowned. Something about inexcusable drunken indiscretions, if I recalled correctly.
"Ah, captain," he gasped out. "Your wagon is — is behind the Countess' manor. You're going the — the wrong way."
Gray pretended that his bark of laughter was merely him choking on his food. Or maybe he actually was choking, but since he didn't need to breathe, I didn't spare more than a moment of worry for him.
Well, that had been even easier than anticipated. I'd assumed that enemy action would at least try to gather backup first.
Unless I was very much mistaken, Edmund was the Wraith monitor responsible for sending so many of my fellow soldiers to be executed for their 'failures.' True, many of those soldiers hadn't been exemplary, but they were at least adequate, and could have served the Empire quite well in a lesser unit. Edmund should have come to me, not indirectly murdered my people.
I settled for raising an imperious eyebrow rather than the snarl that wanted to break free from my throat. Joy was doing more than enough growling for the both of us even if Edmund couldn't hear it. Gray, for his part, pretended to be more interested in popping chunks of stone into his mouth rather than the discussion at hand.
"Why, whatever are you talking about?" I asked innocently, granting a smile that should have sent alarm bells ringing in the head of any competent Wraith.
I suddenly wondered if their terrifying reputation was less born of competence and more from frequent internal purges. That Edmund's face was starting to redden with aggravation seemed to support my latest guess.
"Your return orders, Captain," he snapped. "I know that I received orders to expedite your recall, and can't imagine that the Wraiths would be so negligent as to put off delivering their mirror to you."
"Ah, yes," I stalled as we approached the oversized double doors of the Elites' mess hall. "The umbra-infused message in a black envelope that I received this morning. Tell me, quartermaster, you are capable of at least rudimentary use of umbra, are you not?"
"Of course I am!" he hissed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
I pushed open the mess hall's doors rather than answering, striding into the loud hubbub of gossiping Elites. As expected of the empire's best, a good half-dozen of those facing me were quick to abandon their meals and start climbing free of the benches. Others followed their example without even seeing me, only the urgency in their comrades' movements.
"Don't bother to rise, and feel free to keep eating," I called into the spreading silence. "I would apologize for interrupting your meals, but I'm afraid that treason isn't something that can afford to wait."
What few whispers remained were rather neatly snuffed out, and nobody took my offer to resume their meals. A few did sit back down, but they were a distinct minority. Gray, realizing my intent, wordlessly shifted to stand between Edmund and the street.
"Treason?" Edmund asked blankly.
I let my smile drop in favor of the scorn I felt, shifting to place one hand on my rapier. Killing him would cause all sorts of problems, but it was expected that I should remind him of the option.
"Quartermaster Edmund here," I said evenly, "seems to have decided that it would be a fine idea to forge orders from the Shaded Palace."
Much of my platoon obligingly produced scandalized and/or horrified gasps. Edmund, for his part, was gaping at me as though I'd grown an extra head.
'I like it in here too much.'
I forced down a smile that would be completely inappropriate for the situation at hand. I'd worked hard to avoid the reputation for sadism shared by so many umbral officers.
And I'm very happy to share, but please don't make me grin right now.
"Recall orders, specifically," I continued. "And, credit to the Rainbow Rebellion's forgers, it did look legitimate — which I suppose shouldn't be surprising, given their familiarity with blatant lies. Where the forgery failed was in its ability to hold umbra; the missive disintegrated soon after I utilized more power than strictly required by protocol, just to be certain."
The outraged red in Edmund's face soon fled in favor of a pale pallor, and his gaze flicked to my sheathed rapier. I couldn't stop an amused twitch of my lips. I'd been trying to cover my bases, not convince him that I intended a public execution.
"There is a copy back in my quarters!" Edmund said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "If you would let me fetch that so that it can be tested with witnesses…?"
I snorted.
"The Rainbows take pride in never leaving anyone behind," I drawled. "And you want me to trust you, a possible spy for their cause, to fetch your evidence? How stupid do you think we are? Your quarters will be searched, of course, and I'll even be so generous as to let you pick two Elites to oversee the effort. But I am not letting you retrieve some holdout weapon, or worse, signal for extraction."
Edmund huffed, seemingly forgetting his terror in favor of fresh aggravation. His arm started to move toward a satchel at his waist, apparently forgetting how such a movement could be interpreted by soldiers. Gray lunged forward and caught a flinching Edmund's arm before he could even release the satchel's clasp. Edmund yelped and continued to struggle for the better part of two seconds before seeming to realize why Gray had stopped him.
"Oh, for Her Majesty's sake," Edmund spat. "I'm retrieving my damnable badge. Try to dismiss that, why don't you?"
I mentally revised my estimate of his intelligence ever lower. Emergency identity verification was considered essential for a Wraith, true, but to keep it on him? Good grief. It would serve him right if some pickpocket or cutpurse claimed it.
"By all means," I allowed, waving Gray away. "But I do hope you remember my position. Think twice before attempting anything you shouldn't."
Edmund huffed and resumed moving, this time with exaggerated slowness. Before the eyes of most of my platoon, he flipped his satchel open and withdrew a jagged-edged silver badge of office from the smallest pocket. An iridescent drop of adamantine, so small that it could barely even cover the head of a needle, sat proudly in its center and served as one of the most effective anti-forging methods known to the Empire.
Edmund triumphantly held the badge aloft, slowly tilting its surface so that the platoon could see the shining droplet, before doing something that almost got him killed on the spot. Apparently, he was actually dumb enough to throw the badge toward the troops. Reflexes alone had me flooding my body with umbra and rushing to intercept, batting the possible explosive toward an empty corner of the hall. Edmund's badge hit the far wall with a solid thunk and unceremoniously dropped to the floor.
The platoon collectively waited with bated breath for several seconds before turning our unimpressed gazes on the red-faced idiot beside me.
"Are you trying to get us to kill you, or are you just that stupid?" I demanded before shaking my head. "Don't answer that. Someone test the damn thing, would you? Preferably from a distance, we still can't be sure that it's not set to trigger some curse or another."
"Hendrick first," Edmund demanded, probably outing a fellow Wraith without a second thought.
The Elite in question directed an especially aggrieved look in Edmund's direction, but obligingly drew a throwing knife and flooded the steel with enough umbra to make it appear as a solid orb of darkness. Rather than an underhand toss, Edmund melodramatically reared back before throwing the overcharged weapon with more than enough force to warp the silver plate housing the adamantine bead even if the adamantine itself would remain intact.
Or would stay intact if we weren't cheating, anyway. Hendrick's dagger struck tip-first, instantly funneling umbra into its target and, as designed, turning the abruptly-airborne badge pitch-black. What was not intended was how the entire badge twisted in on itself, an easily overlooked trail of shaking space left in its wake, before obligingly bursting apart with a flare of inky darkness. Metal shards pinged off the nearest wall, skittered across the floor, and even plopped into more than one half-finished drink.
Clearly, adamantine's claim to 'indestructibility' was made by someone who'd never let a goddess bite their creation.
'Chomp,' Joy intoned solemnly.
Surprise kept me from suppressing my bark of laughter. At least I had an alibi this time.
"Well, would you look at that," I said, still snickering. "Another forgery. Did you truly think we wouldn't bother to check? You should have cut your losses rather than doubling down after the first forgery failed."
I shook my head and turned to address the rest of my platoon.
"The Imperial Palace is not filled with complete imbeciles!" I barked, lying through my teeth. "If I was to be recalled, where is my replacement? Effectively delaying the Rainbows requires levels of endurance and mobility possessed by very few, and while Gray is a fine officer, he is not among their number!"
I turned the full force of my unimpressed glare on the moronic man who'd almost decimated what little chance of victory the Shaded Empire still possessed.
"As there is still a minuscule chance that you truly are a loyal agent intended to take the fall for another," I bit out, "you will, of course, be sent to the Spired City on the next scheduled prisoner transport."
Edmund swallowed heavily and tore his gaze from the shattered remnants of his badge. It took him another few seconds to comprehend my words, and longer still for him to muster speech.
"The Rainbows are fanatic about refusing to let anyone take prisoners," Edmund said slowly. "There aren't any transports scheduled."
"Holding any captured Rainbows is quite difficult, isn't it?" I pointedly agreed. "I'm afraid you might be waiting a while until we find enough traitors to justify sending you off. Perhaps the wait will make you more amenable to confessing your crimes."
Caution once again gave way to anger, and I was forced to wonder how the ex-quartermaster survived this long. Then again, he was the disowned son of a viscount; Edmund arguably hadn't so much 'survived' as delayed his downfall by virtue of having a title to lose before his head.
"It matters not. You're too late, Violet," he spat, rounding on me. "I don't know when you replaced my badge, but I've already reported your true identity to the Spired City. Let's see you talk your way out of that."
I blinked and tried to make sense of his words. It took me a moment to remember the epiphany the Rainbows seemed to have yesterday, and another second to chop apart my darkname until Edmund's words made sense. That was why Edmund decided to utilize pre-written recall orders? Seriously? Not because of my performance, but because of a quirk of language?
"Are you an idiot?" I felt compelled to ask.
Edmund spluttered, and I cast my gaze toward the crowd of bemused soldiers. A good half of them had even retaken their seats and resumed eating, wariness thoroughly obliterated by seeing Edmund's 'forgery' break apart. Now the situation was simply free entertainment.
"Jenkins!" I barked.
A brown-haired human jumped to attention from the closest bench. Somehow, Jenkins' leathers managed to look shiny and new rather than appropriately worn by extensive use.
"Ma'am!"
My lips twitched. Somehow, there was always a different Jenkins in every unit I'd ever joined, academy classes included. I would assume that it was an Intel pseudonym if not for their clear familial relations. As it stood, I could only conclude that the entire family tumbled like drabbits, a hypothesis strongly supported by (this) Corporal Jenkins' occasional whinging about sending money back home and tendency to flirt with every receptive barmaid he could find.
"At ease," I ordered. "Do share with this utter imbecile why I'm called 'Versatile Violence.'"
Jenkins relaxed and turned an unimpressed gaze on our former quartermaster.
"Umbral Captain Versatile Violence, then Cadet Eskarne," Jenkins stressed, "was bestowed her darkname after being erroneously denied an imbued weapon for use during her Pre-Graduation Gauntlet. After a single victory unarmed, and a second using the sand of the arena, Cadet Eskarne made a point of freehand forming a different umbral weapon for each of her eleven remaining matches, winning each and every one."
"Seven of those matches," I corrected. "The other four combatants conceded, pleading preexisting injuries."
"Cowards," I heard someone mumble.
I tried not to wince. Those four had, in all honesty, been the smartest of the bunch. Endurance gauntlets were ludicrously lopsided in my favor; Joy couldn't feed me more than a trickle of umbra without noticeably affecting reality, but even that much was enough to make a difference over the course of multiple hours. Her discreet healing of subsurface injuries made the situation even more unfair. Really, given my advantages, force-feeding sand to Heir Salamander until he finally choked out a forfeit had been a bit excessive.
'Nostalgia is making you misremember,' Joy deadpanned. 'Full healing of all but the most blatant injuries was standard for the noble kiddies, and the stupid lizard had been threatening to maim you for months.'
Ah, right. The cheating little sh–
"In conclusion," Jenkins said, drawing me from aggravated reminiscence, "it's patently absurd to attempt to claim that the Captain is secretly some eighth member of the Rainbow Rebels. She did not pick her name, and her birth name isn't related to any color whatsoever, let alone some shade of purple."
"Thank you, Corporal," I said briskly. "And might I add that the Rainbows all share certain color-coded traits that I very much do not?"
I pointedly tugged at my own black hair before waving to emphasize my equally common yellow eyes.
"Honestly," I huffed. "I can't believe I was pulled from bed over this nonsense. Lieutenant Gray, do make sure that the prisoner's ledgers are thoroughly checked and quarters searched for any secret versions. Given what he just tried to pull, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd been indulging in longer-term sabotage via theft of Imperial property."
I already knew the answer, of course. Mild embezzlement was considered to be an unofficial job perk of imperial quartermasters; one of the instructors had even brought it up as a reason that I should change tracks, claiming that it would be a shame to let me waste away in a common infantry position that wouldn't even offer me a pension. Embezzlement was viewed as technically illegal, but very much expected, and the 'important' part was being able to pass casual inspection.
I would be shocked if my platoon's spite-motivated search would be anything approaching casual. We were a scant week's march away from the capital, and couldn't afford to yield much more ground lest we risk vital imperial infrastructure. Losing even a single one of the Spired City's umbrallas would be devastating beyond words, especially with winter rapidly approaching.
"Captain," Gray acknowledged, saluting.
I whirled on one foot, intending to stomp away and start actually eating. Instead, I was just in time to see a sweating scout slide down a drainpipe and sprint toward me. I glanced mournfully at my still-wrapped sandwich, fully aware of what it meant when a scout appeared at a dead run.
"Captain!" Specialist Lukas gasped out. "All six–"
A chorus of dropped utensils clattered behind me.
"–Rainbows are approaching with a black flag!"
The sounds of hasty movement ceased. I looked to Gray and saw my incredulity mirrored in his own expression. What, exactly, possessed the Rainbows to try again after each and every attempt was met with an ambush in accordance with imperial policy? It wasn't like the Rainbows would return the favor; they were too full of themselves to attempt a false parley, and the Shaded Empire would burn before it granted even the smallest of concessions.
"You know," I mused aloud, "standard imperial policy is that the Rainbow Rebellion is comprised entirely of honorless curs who don't deserve parley. At the same time, however, we just rooted out a probable Rainbow spy–"
I nodded toward a silently seething, tight-fisted Edmund.
"–and the timing is quite suspect. If we hadn't caught the forgeries, I would be on my way to the capital by now."
I clapped my hands and smiled at my subordinates.
"So, why don't we go see what the Rainbows think they're up to, and why they wanted to get rid of me now rather than at any other time over the last several months? On your feet, ladies; I encourage you to bring your food with you, but I still want lookouts along the sunlit rift just in case their followers try something. Lieutenant Gray, I'll let you work out the specifics as usual."
I spun on one heel and stalked toward the town plaza, fighting the urge to skip as I went. Who knows, maybe the Rainbows realized they were doing more harm than good and wanted a ceasefire while they figured things out. Unlikely, to be sure, but without Magenta present to whisper poison in their ears, I was at least willing to acknowledge it as possible.
'You, um,' Joy said slowly. 'You really don't remember, do you?'
I turned a corner and finally unwrapped my food. It was tempting to hold off and eat during the meeting solely as a show of disrespect, but down that path laid fighting on an empty stomach.
Remember what? I absentmindedly asked, happily biting into my breakfast.
'Before we agreed to change them to avoid unwanted attention, you did have violet hair and eyes.'
VV genuinely forgot she was in fact once full violet. The chaos of that revelation is going to be Extra chaotic shortly, what with the girls about totryand pretend they have an avatar.
The sheer insanity about to happen has me quivering with excitement.
You, um,' Joy said slowly. 'You really don't remember, do you?'
I turned a corner and finally unwrapped my food. It was tempting to hold off and eat during the meeting solely as a show of disrespect, but down that path laid fighting on an empty stomach.
Remember what? I absentmindedly asked, happily biting into my breakfast.
'Before we agreed to change them to avoid unwanted attention, you did have violet hair and eyes.'
A brown-haired human jumped to attention from the closest bench. Somehow, Jenkins' leathers managed to look shiny and new rather than appropriately worn by extensive use.
Huh, that's interesting. When it was brought up that the population of the Shaded Empire of Dusk was cursed into being non-human I thought that meant the entire population. Yet here we have Jenkins.
VV genuinely forgot she was in fact once full violet. The chaos of that revelation is going to be Extra chaotic shortly, what with the girls about totryand pretend they have an avatar.
The sheer insanity about to happen has me quivering with excitement.
Thus has VV managed to gaslight herself into genuinely believing that her being the last Rainbow was preposterously ridiculous right up until the worst possible moment... whilst simultaneously setting up poor Edmund for a mental breakdown wondering if he really is secretly a traitor working for the Rainbow Rebellion.
Wait... doesn't that mean he's working for his captain? That's... That's normal, right? But then why did he report her? Oh no, the Shaded Empire must have tried to brainwash him! It's a good thing VV's whole platoon is so loyal as only a true Rainbow could manage! Phew, she really saved him there, and even came up with a perfectly legitimate-sounding excuse to indefinitely delay sending him back to the capital for reconditioning. What a wonderful miracle-worker, that girl!
