KeeperAbra Felt like multi-POV'ing this one. The last chapter was pretty significant, after all. Enjoy~
The King of Lyrica gripped his fists. “You may leave,” he said. The shadow, her head still bowed, slinked away before the doors to the royal chamber opened.
His royal guard captain stopped in front of him and knelt. Armor covered her from head to toe, articulating everywhere—even her skirt was plates of steel, sliding away for her knee to bend. Her capelet hung off one shoulder, gilded in gold, embroidered with a crest of herald-angels of the Throne of Lyrica.
“Stand,” the king said. Armor plates made no sound as they slid back down, wrapping the captain’s legs in an iron cocoon.
“You called, Your Majesty?” she said.
“We move to Harmony at once.”
The captain sighed. “You should let her move around more.”
“But that’s my daughter! She and a commoner—”
A red glare shone out of the captain’s eye slits. The king winced and straightened his back against his throne.
The captain removed her helmet, letting her golden hair drape over her shoulders like a rich silk. “Our daughter.”
“Right.”
“And so…what would you like to do, Your Majesty?”
Amelia Thronekeeper stared down Thorn Selisie. His throne couldn’t be any lower. Things like being made of solid gold, adorned of swords and trumpets, raised upon a ten-foot pyramid of silver steps, and rendered aglow by the Blessings of goddesses—mattered little in front of the Sentinel of the Throne of Lyrica.
“…I just want to check on her.”
“I see.” She rewarded him with a slight smile, but not too bright. He’d have to work hard if he wanted to see something brighter. “She has duties there. You have duties here. My duty is the Throne right there.”
“Indeed.”
“So you’ll stay right there, won’t you?”
“As a matter of course.”
“Even if I have a cold and take a few days off?”
“Of…course.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Then”—she bowed—“I bid my leave, Your Majesty.”
As soon as her back left the door, King Selisie let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t know whether to thank or curse the woman held both his heart and his life in her hands.
But…really? A commoner? Wasn’t there someone there of more repute? Even that jester Shal-yen would have been more acceptable!
He almost ripped out his hair just from thinking about all the legal troubles this would bring.
***
In a certain room of the employees’ dormitory of the Research Guild,
Cressian Irulia—‘Cresh’ for the affable—had met an interesting man the other day. Well, that man was just looking around, really, but he was decent conversation, and he was curious about a few things, but, the most striking thing was that he was already a dad. He was pretty sure Kalender’s System age was 17—a dad at 17, what a concept! Back in Icasius, that was the shortest route to an economic death sentence.
Lyrica’s insane. The people here were just popping out babies whenever they so pleased like it was nothing. The mortality rate wasn’t even any different from Icasius-Artemia, so what gives!
He sighed. He wasn’t old—he was just 27—but it sure as hell felt that way when even his younger work colleagues all had a full-fledged, multi-matriarch family.
Putting those thoughts aside, being a low-rank receptionist for the Research Guild wasn’t his real job.
He was a Republic spy.
His life was on the brink every single day. No, seriously, the Inquisition’s agents were scary.
The RIA behind him was finagling with magic items of suspicious reliablity, trying all they could to mask their agents’ Occupations, but in reality, they could never do it well, and certainly not for long.
The Inquisition never had to deal with this problem. None of their agents’ Occupations ever gave them away.
You wanna know how? To the shadows of the Inquisition, espionage was just a side gig.
If your mind’s not into it, then of course it wouldn’t show up as your Occupation!
What’re the RIA eggheads even playing around with magic tools for! Why don’t we all just pick this up as a side gig, huh?
The economic realities of the Republic have caught up with them once again. If one didn’t specialize in that economy, they would fail miserably. Specializing in espionage, however, would result in one becoming something like a Spy, Analyst, or Informant, defeating the whole purpose of it.
Right now, he was one of the few RIA assets who had an Occupation that just borderline passed as mundane. He was a Daytime Receptionist—begging the question of what he did at night. As long as no one asked, it was all fine.
Incidentally, he had been granted leave earlier today, so he didn’t have anything to do during the daylight hours. On one hand, he really wanted the break. On the other hand, he had to appear normal, and taking a break was considered normal, so, win-win, he thought.
That was when he offhandedly decided to visit the Company’s arena. People with weird fighting styles showed up there sometimes, and it didn’t hurt to diversify his options if it came to a fight.
Well, he could only watch, but that was enough. He activated his Hide Skill, just in case someone here was acquainted with someone’s cousin who worked with the Inquisition.
The Company was putting the new applicants through the wringer, apparently. Nothing he’d never seen before, though.
…up until Kalender showed up.
Hey. Wait.
Kalender gunned down the invisible target.
Wait, wait.
Kalender blinded the arena with his laser. Cresh had his own countermeasures, so he wasn’t blinded…for too long.
Huh?!
Then Kalender took down Zee in a hail of gunfire.
Lyrica? Guns? How?!
Then he fought the Princess Knight, the Top Two on the Absolute Battlefield Threats list.
…and lost.
Thank the goddesses, he didn’t win. Even if that was the case…why did it feel like the Princess Knight lost in a different sense? Wait, why was she clasping his hand in hers?
Cresh looked around. He was seated somewhere secluded, pushing his Hide Skill as far as he could. From the applicants’ perspective, they weren’t able to see that momentary gesture.
The Princess…favored this guy. Cresh wasn’t sure what to make of it. Kalender was now a potential source of valuable intel about the Princess Knight’s capabilities, but beyond that…yeah, let’s not think about this on my own. Thinking was an Analyst’s job. He just had to survive.
Later that night, he tapped away on a telegraph, relaying the introduction of a new factor to RIA HQ.
***
Page and Jyn glanced at each other before looking back to the scene. They had never really shared a look like this before, but it was warranted now, especially since Kalender was publicly befriending Lyrican royalty, right in their faces!
Neither they, nor the applicants, nor the examiners, were ignorant of the significance of that exchange just now. Only Kalender’s in-group had the most accurate impression, while the rest only saw Kalender doing some sort of button-pushing.
They figured he’d be dead within the next hour. Heck, they were surprised he wasn’t executed on the spot. Maybe the Princess Knight had an unexpected soft spot.
She has the strength of steel, and a heart of gold! Once again, Lyrican royalty had proven that they were not the same as everyone else.
Still, the guy was definitely gonna be dead by dawn. She’d literally just shot him in the chest at point-blank!
Page and Jyn, meanwhile, had conflicted expressions—Jyn the more conflicted between them.
“I believe Her Highness has somehow, with that final shot, sworn Kalender into friendship, here and unto death,” Jyn said. She felt a well of pride bubble up, because Yes! That’s Kalender! That’s my friend!…but along with that, certain monopolistic feelings.
Kalender had a Knight, after all, and the service of a Knight was a mark of honor—and she was that Knight.
There was just something about being the mark of honor. She would have felt more accepting if Arpeggio were just a Princess, and not a Princess Knight, but no, she just had to be both. Whatever happened to specialization of roles?
There’s also that: she was a Knight, and Arpeggio was a Princess. How could they walk down the same street together?…though, given Arpeggio’s reputation, and her own tea talk with Her Highness, they would likely fight exceptionally well together on the frontlines, with Arpeggio leading the charge, cutting down whatever would stop Kalender’s mission.
That was the thing, though. Arpeggio would be in front, and she would be behind. Wouldn’t it be somehow the same when it came to Kalender? Arpeggio’s more-aggressive personality would easily knock her out of the way.
“Y-yeah, I think that’s what just happened,” Page said with a wry smile. She’d already experienced Arpeggio’s casual side—or whatever counted as casual for the Princess—so she wasn’t as concerned as Jyn about whatever Knightly matters she was concerned about. Her Highness was exceptionally tolerant of others, practically to the point of casting away her royal status, so Jyn shouldn’t have to worry so much.
She looked to the Knight. In Page’s eyes, she was glowing greener than grass. “Don’t worry so much.”
Jyn looked to Page. “Those are the kindest eyes you have ever offered me.”
Page chuckled. “That so?” She looked back to Kalender and Arpeggio. Kalender was lightly bowing, likely as a show for the rest of the audience, and Arpeggio walked away with a satisfied smile, leaving impressions in the sand behind her, deeper around her toes.
“I don’t think you have to worry,” she said once more.
KeeperAbra Felt like multi-POV'ing this one. The last chapter was pretty significant, after all. Enjoy~
The King of Lyrica gripped his fists. “You may leave,” he said. The shadow, her head still bowed, slinked away before the doors to the royal chamber opened.
His royal guard captain stopped in front of him and knelt. Armor covered her from head to toe, articulating everywhere—even her skirt was plates of steel, sliding away for her knee to bend. Her capelet hung off one shoulder, gilded in gold, embroidered with a crest of herald-angels of the Throne of Lyrica.
“Stand,” the king said. Armor plates made no sound as they slid back down, wrapping the captain’s legs in an iron cocoon.
“You called, Your Majesty?” she said.
“We move to Harmony at once.”
The captain sighed. “You should let her move around more.”
“But that’s my daughter! She and a commoner—”
A red glare shone out of the captain’s eye slits. The king winced and straightened his back against his throne.
The captain removed her helmet, letting her golden hair drape over her shoulders like a rich silk. “Our daughter.”
“Right.”
“And so…what would you like to do, Your Majesty?”
Amelia Thronekeeper stared down Thorn Selisie. His throne couldn’t be any lower. Things like being made of solid gold, adorned of swords and trumpets, raised upon a ten-foot pyramid of silver steps, and rendered aglow by the Blessings of goddesses—mattered little in front of the Sentinel of the Throne of Lyrica.
“…I just want to check on her.”
“I see.” She rewarded him with a slight smile, but not too bright. He’d have to work hard if he wanted to see something brighter. “She has duties there. You have duties here. My duty is the Throne right there.”
“Indeed.”
“So you’ll stay right there, won’t you?”
“As a matter of course.”
“Even if I have a cold and take a few days off?”
“Of…course.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Then”—she bowed—“I bid my leave, Your Majesty.”
As soon as her back left the door, King Selisie let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t know whether to thank or curse the woman held both his heart and his life in her hands.
But…really? A commoner? Wasn’t there someone there of more repute? Even that jester Shal-yen would have been more acceptable!
He almost ripped out his hair just from thinking about all the legal troubles this would bring.
***
In a certain room of the employees’ dormitory of the Research Guild,
Cressian Irulia—‘Cresh’ for the affable—had met an interesting man the other day. Well, that man was just looking around, really, but he was decent conversation, and he was curious about a few things, but, the most striking thing was that he was already a dad. He was pretty sure Kalender’s System age was 17—a dad at 17, what a concept! Back in Icasius, that was the shortest route to an economic death sentence.
Lyrica’s insane. The people here were just popping out babies whenever they so pleased like it was nothing. The mortality rate wasn’t even any different from Icasius-Artemia, so what gives!
He sighed. He wasn’t old—he was just 27—but it sure as hell felt that way when even his younger work colleagues all had a full-fledged, multi-matriarch family.
Putting those thoughts aside, being a low-rank receptionist for the Research Guild wasn’t his real job.
He was a Republic spy.
His life was on the brink every single day. No, seriously, the Inquisition’s agents were scary.
The RIA behind him was finagling with magic items of suspicious reliablity, trying all they could to mask their agents’ Occupations, but in reality, they could never do it well, and certainly not for long.
The Inquisition never had to deal with this problem. None of their agents’ Occupations ever gave them away.
You wanna know how? To the shadows of the Inquisition, espionage was just a side gig.
If your mind’s not into it, then of course it wouldn’t show up as your Occupation!
What’re the RIA eggheads even playing around with magic tools for! Why don’t we all just pick this up as a side gig, huh?
The economic realities of the Republic have caught up with them once again. If one didn’t specialize in that economy, they would fail miserably. Specializing in espionage, however, would result in one becoming something like a Spy, Analyst, or Informant, defeating the whole purpose of it.
Right now, he was one of the few RIA assets who had an Occupation that just borderline passed as mundane. He was a Daytime Receptionist—begging the question of what he did at night. As long as no one asked, it was all fine.
Incidentally, he had been granted leave earlier today, so he didn’t have anything to do during the daylight hours. On one hand, he really wanted the break. On the other hand, he had to appear normal, and taking a break was considered normal, so, win-win, he thought.
That was when he offhandedly decided to visit the Company’s arena. People with weird fighting styles showed up there sometimes, and it didn’t hurt to diversify his options if it came to a fight.
Well, he could only watch, but that was enough. He activated his Hide Skill, just in case someone here was acquainted with someone’s cousin who worked with the Inquisition.
The Company was putting the new applicants through the wringer, apparently. Nothing he’d never seen before, though.
…up until Kalender showed up.
Hey. Wait.
Kalender gunned down the invisible target.
Wait, wait.
Kalender blinded the arena with his laser. Cresh had his own countermeasures, so he wasn’t blinded…for too long.
Huh?!
Then Kalender took down Zee in a hail of gunfire.
Lyrica? Guns? How?!
Then he fought the Princess Knight, the Top Two on the Absolute Battlefield Threats list.
…and lost.
Thank the goddesses, he didn’t win. Even if that was the case…why did it feel like the Princess Knight lost in a different sense? Wait, why was she clasping his hand in hers?
Cresh looked around. He was seated somewhere secluded, pushing his Hide Skill as far as he could. From the applicants’ perspective, they weren’t able to see that momentary gesture.
The Princess…favored this guy. Cresh wasn’t sure what to make of it. Kalender was now a potential source of valuable intel about the Princess Knight’s capabilities, but beyond that…yeah, let’s not think about this on my own. Thinking was an Analyst’s job. He just had to survive.
Later that night, he tapped away on a telegraph, relaying the introduction of a new factor to RIA HQ.
***
Page and Jyn glanced at each other before looking back to the scene. They had never really shared a look like this before, but it was warranted now, especially since Kalender was publicly befriending Lyrican royalty, right in their faces!
Neither they, nor the applicants, nor the examiners, were ignorant of the significance of that exchange just now. Only Kalender’s in-group had the most accurate impression, while the rest only saw Kalender doing some sort of button-pushing.
They figured he’d be dead within the next hour. Heck, they were surprised he wasn’t executed on the spot. Maybe the Princess Knight had an unexpected soft spot.
She has the strength of steel, and a heart of gold! Once again, Lyrican royalty had proven that they were not the same as everyone else.
Still, the guy was definitely gonna be dead by dawn. She’d literally just shot him in the chest at point-blank!
Page and Jyn, meanwhile, had conflicted expressions—Jyn the more conflicted between them.
“I believe Her Highness has somehow, with that final shot, sworn Kalender into friendship, here and unto death,” Jyn said. She felt a well of pride bubble up, because Yes! That’s Kalender! That’s my friend!…but along with that, certain monopolistic feelings.
Kalender had a Knight, after all, and the service of a Knight was a mark of honor—and she was that Knight.
There was just something about being the mark of honor. She would have felt more accepting if Arpeggio were just a Princess, and not a Princess Knight, but no, she just had to be both. Whatever happened to specialization of roles?
There’s also that: she was a Knight, and Arpeggio was a Princess. How could they walk down the same street together?…though, given Arpeggio’s reputation, and her own tea talk with Her Highness, they would likely fight exceptionally well together on the frontlines, with Arpeggio leading the charge, cutting down whatever would stop Kalender’s mission.
That was the thing, though. Arpeggio would be in front, and she would be behind. Wouldn’t it be somehow the same when it came to Kalender? Arpeggio’s more-aggressive personality would easily knock her out of the way.
“Y-yeah, I think that’s what just happened,” Page said with a wry smile. She’d already experienced Arpeggio’s casual side—or whatever counted as casual for the Princess—so she wasn’t as concerned as Jyn about whatever Knightly matters she was concerned about. Her Highness was exceptionally tolerant of others, practically to the point of casting away her royal status, so Jyn shouldn’t have to worry so much.
She looked to the Knight. In Page’s eyes, she was glowing greener than grass. “Don’t worry so much.”
Jyn looked to Page. “Those are the kindest eyes you have ever offered me.”
Page chuckled. “That so?” She looked back to Kalender and Arpeggio. Kalender was lightly bowing, likely as a show for the rest of the audience, and Arpeggio walked away with a satisfied smile, leaving impressions in the sand behind her, deeper around her toes.
“I don’t think you have to worry,” she said once more.
